#as soon as i post this people are probably going to look it up

[oceansssblue]

If you're still taking clone requests, I would LOVE to see something cute and domestic! A couple ideas I've been rotating in my head lately:

-Fives and reader messing around in the kitchen together, making dinner, dancing to stupid music and teasing each other's cooking skills, which inevitably ends in a huge mess (and dinner probably being forgotten about...)

-Wrecker getting sick and being forced into bed despite trying to keep working. It's totally against his will at first, but soon he starts to enjoy the chance to be soft and gentle. The reader finally convinces him to let them take care of him for once, assuring him that he doesn't always have to be the strong one

-Echo and the reader discussing starting a family, Echo expressing his doubts about what kind of father he would be and the reader reassuring him, telling him how much they love watching him with Omega and how good a father he'd be. The more they talk about it the more excited Echo gets at the idea

Hope these sparked something for you! Have a great day :)

Okay okay! Decided to do the two bottom ones as I've already done a kitchen fluffy one with fives and got a few for him requested as well (one of which I'll be working on next).

They're short, since I wanted to do both of then in the same post under the cut. Hope you like them, enjoy!

"BED REST"

TBB REQUESTS– WRECKER/GN READER 📩💖

WARNINGS: none

Somehow, inherently with being a big, strong person, Wrecker was used to helping people. Maybe it was just Wrecker's personality on itself; the way he felt truly happy when taking care of someone, being part of the solution to someone's problem. Wether it be physicall help or kind words, it made him feel warm.

What Wrecker wasn't used to, however, was to be taken care of. Well, he had a very close relationship with his brothers, and they always had an eye out for each other; but it wasn't like that. It didn't soothe any deeper emotional part of him. It was more of a... physical safety check of sorts. Tech had actually suggested to integrate a monthly therapy session to talk about their respective feelings years ago; but it hadn't ended up being a reality, lost instead in his never ending line of hypothetical ideas.

Maybe that's the reason why Wrecker doesn't say anything about the way he's feeling himself. Maybe that's the reason why he puts up a big smile on his face and sits through the presentation of your project as if he's not feeling downright awful. He's so kind and sweet even in his state you don't even notice it until you're actually home with him; and you see him pulling up an uncomfortable expression when he watches you take out some pasta from your fridge.

"Wrecker?" You look at him confused and slightly worried. "Are you feeling okay, honey?"

Wrecker tries to smile again; but his expresion falls and he quickly takes a hand to his stomach, putting slight preasure to it.

You frown and close the fridge, abandoning the tupper back inside of it and aproaching him closely. You carefully place your hand on his wide shoulder.

"Sweetheart, are you feeling ill?" You guess.

Wrecker hesitates.

"Oh, it's nothing" he quickly answers, even with his face twisting in pain. "Just my stomach being whinny".

You smile and caress his shoulder. Poor Wrecker, trying to ignore himself to push through your presentation and make you happy. You can't have him suffering.

"Why don't you go lay down on bed for a bit? I'll make you some tea and be right there" you suggest.

Wrecker frowns in disagreement.

"Oh, no, love, there's no need. I'm fine, really. I'll probably be as good as new in a pair of hours".

You're a little confused as by why he's so reluctant to admit he's not doing good and let you help. You try to soothe him with another caress and a smile; gentle expression on your face.

"And you can rest til you do" you insist, softly but firm, leaving no space for him to evade you.

Wrecker glances to the side.

"Oh, uh... Love..." he suddenly exhales deeply, as if surrendering, and adds in an embarassed tone "I just don't want you to feel like you need to fuss over me. I can take care of myself".

You blink slowly. Ah. You might be starting to see the problem. Maybe it's related with the fact that he's a soldier; always the hero, the saviour, and not the damsel in distress. Maybe it's just that he's Wrecker; always strong and efficient. Well...

"You don't have to be strong with me all the time" you whisper to him, closing up the distance between each others faces and nuzzling your nose with his, affectionately. "I know you can take care of yourself, Wreck, but I want to take care of you too".

Wrecker sighs, and you know you've almost got him convinced, so you continue.

"You always take such good care of me, love. I want to take care of you now. Wanna make you feel loved and safe. Let me, please?"

Wrecker melts and finally nods. You give him a little smile and direct him to your bedroom. Your boyfriend slowly lays in bed, with his back against the wall, watching you hesitantly; you give him a peck on the cheek before returning to the kitchen and quickly putting up together the best of your teas. You think it might help to settle Wrecker's stomach.

You go back to your bedroom with it in your hand; and you carefully pass it to Wrecker, who inmediately gives it an exploratory sip. He humms in aproval; and you find a spot besides him, both of your thighs pressed together.

You patiently wait til Wrecker has finished his tea and has left the empty cup on your nightstand. Then, you slowly direct the clone to scooch downwards and place his head on your lap. You caress his head, then his shoulders and chest; soothing patterns with the sole purpose to comfort him.

Wrecker melts. This was better than what he had thought of at first. He thought it might be uncomfortable, relinquishing control to some other person, being the one in need; but oh, this is great, with your soft hands and your tender words. He might grow to even like it.

Your hands squeeze a sore spot on his shoulder and he groans.

Yeah. He will.

THE END.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"TO PLAN A FAMILY"

TBB REQUESTS – ECHO/F READER 📩💖

WARNINGS: Mentions of prosthetics and starting a family.

You first noticed it at the end of your first year dating Echo. The lingering glances, the way he seemed to grow lost in his thoughts, how he sighed deeply as if there was something pulling at his heart. You became observant throughout the first part of that second year together; and you reached your conclusion. It's always Hunter and Omega.

They're incredibly sweet, both of them. It's warming to see them interact together in their own special father and daughter relationship. Hunter's firm and always attentive; Omega in his teenager era trying to be more independent. Trying to show everyone she's capable, though you all know she is.

Inevitably, you start paying more attention to Echo's own interactions with the blond girl. For some reason, Omega has always saved a special spot on her heart for Echo; and since you returned with him to the Marauder after a last dangerous mission with Rex and the Rebellion, she has grown even closer to the man that holds your own heart.

It makes you melt, the way he takes care of her. How he teaches her and how he patiently waits for her to replicate his lesson; gentle hands redirecting her and a proud, small smile pulling on his lips when she achieves it. When things get hard, and Omega grows sad or restless, Echo talks her through it; voice soft but not masking reality, helping her understand and process that things can't always be as they want to, but that there's always a reason to keep trying. Your heart squeezes painfully in your chest when you think on how many times this wonderful man has said those same words to himself.

"Echo" you whisper his name one night when you can't keep holding it in. He slowly turns in bed towards you and hums sleeply. You brace yourself for any possible reaction of his. "Do you ever want to have kids?"

At first, Echo seems to freeze. Then he blinks twice, as if he is trying to move on from the fact that you've actually asked him this question out loud; and then he sighs quietly.

"I don't know if I should, to start with" he answers, voice barely audible in the silence of your bedroom.

You frown, lost.

"Why not?"

Echo mirrors your position in front of him; laying on one side of his body with his prosthetic knees slightly bent and head resting on his left bycep.

His eyes move away from yours, glancing down in that reserved way of his that indicate he's feeling a mix of contradicting emotions. You know him well by now.

"We're not living the safest of lifes, cyare. What kind of father would I be if I had to dissapear to help Rex here and there, or put my son through a constant runaway? Besides... They just might get scared of me".

You know the last statement refers to his appearance –you haven't met him before, so you've always seen this shape of his hot as fuck–; and you gently clasp his shoulder with your hand.

"Don't say that" you answer, softly. "They won't. They won't care if you have methalic legs or arms or a headset. They'd love you just the same, just like I do. It's what good families do".

Echo stays silent, thoughtfull. He shimmies forward in bed so that you're touching now; one of your thighs quickly moving over his hip and snuggling together, noses touching and nuzzling slowly.

"Would you?" He finally asks you. "Have kids?"

Your heart beats steadily inside your chest. You can't lie to him.

"Yes" you whisper, hand moving to caress his cheek delicately. You sigh, wishful, and you confess "I love watching you with Omega. You've just got the perfect ammount of gentleness, firmness, patience and honesty. I can't help but imagine you crouching down to explain something to a little Echo as well".

You kiss him sweetly and whisper in front of his lips "You'd be a great father, riduur".

Echo makes a sound with the back of his throat, pulling you tigther towards him. You close your eyes in the embrace.

Echo pictures it in his mind. A smaller version of himself and you, a perfect mix, running around and asking innocent questions to the both of you. How you'd look with him in your arms and how much you'd both love him. It's so beautiful in his mind it suddenly hurts for it not to be real.

Echo hums and conceeds.

"We can talk thorugh it seriously tomorrow" he agrees, pulling a radiant hopeful smile on your face "But right now it's late, and we both need to sleep".

You nod enthusiastically. You know you won't be able to for at least another hour, too excited at the possibility of your recents dream becoming true; but you'll just close your eyes and listen to his steady heartbeat.

You give his lips a peck and glance downwards. You tap his prosthetics with your index.

"You gonna take this today, mesh'la?" You ask him casually.

Once thing you have learned is that Echo doesn't like his physical problems to be treated as if he were made of glass. He understands the empathy; but it makes him uncomfortable, sometimes. By now, after two years together, you've already perfectioned your ways; and the best one is to just be normal about it, not to avoid it or tone it down. Echo's dissabled, but not uncapable. There's an abism of a difference.

"Yeah" Echo answers, moving to search the joints and attachments to abandon his prosthetic legs to the side. "My hips hurt today".

You hum and patiently wait for him to pull them off, leaving them carefully on the floor, before he rolls back towards you and you instanctly welcome him back into your arms.

You kiss him again and yawn.

"We'll take a warm bath tomorrow and I'll give you a nice massage afterwards" you offer, growing sleepy.

Echo smiles.

"You're too good to me" he whispers, cuddling closer.

You hum in disagreement.

"I'm as good as you deserve".

That night, you both dream of your own little family.

THE END.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

taraaaa! Two in one love, u can't complain! Hahahaha. I hope you liked them, they ended up really fluffy and sweet on my opinion.

I'll be writing either a Fives or Tech request next, stay stunned!

Xx,

Sky.

Back to general masterlist here!

#wrecker tbb #echo tbb #echo x you #echo x reader #tbb wrecker #wrecker x you #wrecker x reader #tbb echo #bad batch echo #arc trooper echo #echo #clone trooper wrecker #wrecker bad batch #star wars #clones #fanfic #tbb #hunter tbb #tech tbb #clone wars #fics #omega tbb #fluff #one shot #comfort #the bad batch #clone force 99 #the clone wars #bad batch #hunter bad batch

[reblogs-and-writings]

Inspired by @chaifootsteps

Everyone's sending in their Hazbin character rewrites, and that looked fun so I want to toss my own hat into the ring. Sorry for the long post. What really bothers me most about Hazin Hotel is that it claims to be a show about redemption, but it seems to be a show about lack of consequence. The reasons why the characters are in hell are never really explained. There are things you can infer about certain people: Alastor's murder, Husk's gambling, Angel's drug use, etc. However, the show never explains why those behaviors are wrong and how they can improve. More often than not, those behaviors are used as jokes. It's funny to have a cannibal town. Angel Dust's name is a pun on the drug that killed him. It's just tonally very wierd to purport that anyone can be redeemed, ANYONE, even people in HELL, can be redeemed and then not continue that very messy and difficult ethical conversation.

Nifty is boy-crazy. Taken to its extreme, what can that mean? What causes attraction so vile it sends you to hell? Was she was one of those "Boy Moms" who excuses his son's horrid actions at the expense of women's safety? Did she cover up a rape her child committed, because Mother's special little boy couldn't possible do something so vile! Or maybe she didn't love her children enough. Maybe her obsession with "bad boys" comes from being forced into an extremely suffocating and unhappy marriage. Maybe she ran off with some 50s biker. Maybe she abandoned her children because she was too obsessed with being loved herself that she couldn't love her children if it meant not having a man's attention. Maybe her boy craziness evolved into a raving jealousy if she didn't get her feelings reciprocated. She's a maid, right? She wants things clean and tidy. Did she murder a man? Did she spend hours scrubbing the floor so none of his blood would remain? Then maybe her arc could be about loving herself and not needing a man to define her identity. Maybe it could be unpacking internalized misogyny and coming to terms with the real pain she caused other women.

Mimzy is opportunistic. She only comes around when she needs a favor. She has no loyalty and only uses Alastor to get her out of problems. Why is she like that? Who taught her that relationships were transactional instead of committal? Maybe she was once a naive young girl who got 'used' for something, and it soured her opinion on other people. I mean, she's plus-sized during the FLAPPER era, where thin was like 1990s level of in. But there's a lot of plus-sized women who talk about being some guy's sneaky link, because he wants to prey on her insecurity and get her into bed, but then never be seen with her, because she's not a socially acceptable dating option. Did Mimzy get her heart broken, and now she doesn't trust anyone? Now she just uses people for what they're good for, because hurt people hurt people, and she's continuing a cycle she herself was a victim to? Maybe Mimzy's redemption could be about letting people in, about not letting trauma turn her into a bad person.

Husk is an alcoholic and a gambling addict. Most people don't just pick up those hobbies for the fun of it. Husk is a miserable little man, and he was probably driven to drink because of his own unhappiness. He was pansexual in the 1970s, right? Maybe he couldn't accept himself or he was forced to not accept himself. Maybe he was forced into a loveless marriage, and he started to go out to the casino to get away from the wife and family he never wanted. But more and more and more he spends time over there, because he doesn't want to go home. And soon he becomes dependent on booze and gambling because it gives him a little joy in his miserable life. But addiction doesn't hurt just the addicted person. It hurts everyone around him. He starts skipping work to gamble. He loses his job. He steals money from his wife. He bets the car. Then the house. He leaves his family destitute, and he's convinced he's the victim because he never wanted to be a husband and father in the first place. When he dies of alcohol poisoning, his family doesn't even claim his body. His redemption could be about how when your own life sucks, it's not an excuse to hurt others. You have to find better ways to cope with a bad hand.

Angel Dust is too many things. He's a prostitute and a porn star and a gay man in the 30s and a gangster and a drug-addict. But if we were gonna try and make all of that make sense, Angel Dust is very family-oriented. He grew up in a mob family. Loyalty is EVERYTHING. So in his mind, killing people was a lesser sin than "betraying" his family by not getting rid of their enemies. His family is everything to him. So he can't be gay. He can't. He can't. He's SO repressed. He refuses to acknowledge it. He spends his entire, short life, trying to fit the mold of a perfect, loyal son. But… he did kill a LOT of people… So when he dies in some shoot out, he goes to hell, and he snaps. He did EVERYTHING he thought was right. He did everything his family told him to do. He was the perfect son, and when he dies he gets sent to hell. He immediately loses all inhibition. He's still a sex/drug addict, but only after he winds up in hell. He's going to spend eternity giving into every single base desire he denied himself while alive. It's destroying him. He's selling himself to men, but deep down he's still ashamed and wondering what his family would think. He drowns out those thoughts with more sex and drugs. Angel's redemption arc is about balance. Yes, he should have been able to be true to himself while alive, but complete indulgence is just as hurtful to him as complete denial.

Sir Pentious… why is he even in hell? I mean, he's a little annoying, and in the pilot he was involved in a gang war, but what did he do in life to justify being sent to hell? Well, he was a Victorian Englishman, so I'm gonna say racism! Horrible racism and colonialsim. He was raised in a time where those were the dominant thought patterns, and he did not analyze them one bit. Conflict can come when black-coded characters like Alastor and Husk expect to be treated like human beings. And Charlie has to face the difficulty of believing a person can change, but how to deal with the current harm they're causing the people she cares about. Maybe Sir Pentious isn't a recorring cast member. Maybe he came to the hotel because he thinks he should be in Heaven. He brought glory to the British empire. He was a kind gentleman. He donated to charities. But he leaves the hotel because he doesn't think "those people" are good enough for Heaven. He refuses to acknowledge his behavior as needing to be changed, but Charlie tells him there is a spot at the hotel when he's ready to change. His character is about how you can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink. He can be offered all the chances in the world to be better, but until he can come to terms with his own capacity for evil, he can't be redeemed.

Cherry Bomb doesn't exist, because she's a superfluous character that doesn't fit in my rewrite. Sir Pentious doesn't get a love interest, and Angel Dust's friend is now Vaggie.

No fallen angel crud. Vaggie was a prostitute that got murdered like Viv originally planned for her to be like 10 years ago. I think Vaggie shows some really codependent traits in the show. Charlie seems to be her entire world. She sings about being her armor. She's willing to put herself in harm's way to defend her, even die for her. She doesn't seem to care much about the other patron's of the hotel apart from them being facet's of Charlie's dream. Maybe Vaggie was one of those poor women who gets trafficked by their boyfriend (or maybe girlfriend in her case). A single person becomes her whole entire world, and she's willing to do ANYTHING for them. Even put herself in dangerous situations that lead to her death… But she did it for love! <3 She hurts herself for love.. for approval. And maybe the show can get into a conversation about what sin really is. So many people define sin as harmed caused to others, but what about harm caused to yourself? Viv originally stated that Vaggie's feelings for Charlie were one-sided, and I think that detail would be even more poignant in this interpretation of her character. She's trying so hard to be noticed and to be loved, and Charlie's become a goddess in her eyes. She puts her on such a pedastal she has no room for her own worth. Her arc is maybe a bit too similiar to Nifty's depending on how we choose to interpret her character, but it's also about finding identity outside of others and being able to set boundaries. Because loving someone and wanting to help them and wanting to protect them are not bad impulses, but like anything else, when taken to extremes it becomes something bad. Dependency can twist love into obession.

Lucifer is the Devil! He's evil! No sad-man, Dad-trying-his-best nonsense! He's evil! The big twist of Hazbin Hotel is that they're not in Hell! They're in Purgatory. There are no sins that cannot be forgiven, but sin can also not enter the Kingdom of Heaven. Purgatory is a place where your sins are burned away so that eventually you can join God in heaven. In Purgatorio, Dante depicts Purgatory as a place of effort. People are in constantly motion striving to get closer to heaven. Purgatory in Hazbin could be a place where people get a second chance to work on their vices. If they couldn't be a good person in life, then they have all of eternity to try again. But Lucifer, the prince of LIES, has convinced everyone they're in Hell. There is no redemption. There is no getting better. He causes the sinners to fall into a great despair. Why try getting better if there is no hope? So when people learn they're in hell, they dig in their heels. They lean even further into vice. They cannot experience love or laughter or joy again. So they settle for booze and sex and violence, anything to numb the pain of knowing they're trapped forever. But is a hell of their own making, little do they know. By tricking generations of sinners, not a single soul has redeemed itself and gotten to heaven in centuries. That's why no one believes it's possible. That's why when Charlie suggests it, he's furiously disapproving of her. He doesn't want people to get better. He doesn't want to improve. He wants everyone to be as miserable as he is, because misery loves company. But he can't tip his hat too much or the older souls might get suspicious. He is the Prince of Lies. His power comes not from strength but from manipulation. The greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn't exist. In Hazin, the greatest trick he ever pulled was convincing people there's no hope for themselves. I was once told that Judas's great sin was not betraying Jesus, but his own suicide after falling into despair. How glorious it would have been to go to a church named after Judas the Repentent. But alas, it is not so. The greatest sin you can commit against yourself is thinking you're too far gone.

And that's why I think Alastor is the central sinner to the narrative. Because he shares Lucifer's viewpoint. People can't get better. Nothing ever gets better. People are bad or people are good, and you can't be both. And who could blame him for having that idea? Let's just pretend that Alastor's lack of visual black-coding is because he is a VERY white-passing creole man. And because of that, he was treated so differently than his mother. And he was treated differently when people found out about his heritage. He became a big radio host. He was popular. He was famous. But he wasn't seen as an equal human being. He was a performer to be enjoyed, but never a person to be respected. He was "one of the good ones" at BEST. And he believed in the good of people. His mother was such a kind soul. She instilled in him that everyone has good inside of them. So he waited to see it. He waited and he waited, and he only saw increasing racism and violence towards his people. One day he just snaps and kills someone, and he considers it a justice. People like that are never going to change. The world is better without them. So he just keeps murdering racists until he gets shot in the head. And when he finds himself in hell, he believes even LESS in the good of people or God or heaven or whatever. If killing racists sent him to hell, then God is evil, and the idea of objective morality in and of itself is perposterous. Positioning Alastor as a vigilante killer would also make some of his comic depictions make more sense. Like he's a really nice guy to Rosie and other women, but he's also a violent murderous man. It's because he thinks people are good or bad, and if you're bad it justifies whatever he does to you. The cannibalism might also be like a power thing. Alastor's arc is about believing in Charlie's mission, genuinely. Eventually, it's not about watching people stumble and fall, because there's a cosmic humor to the cruelty of the universe. He starts to genuinely see people improve, but he fights against the idea, because his life was defined by static, perpetual, instituional evil. Maybe a soul gets redeemed before his very eyes, and he still doesn't believe it. Because to admit a human's capacity for moral growth is to completely restructure his entire understanding of the world, and that's scary.

Finally, Charlie. Princess of Hell. I've always been rather fond of Tolkien's sentiment that evil cannot create, only corrupt. So I don't think Lucifer is her real father. I think Charlie was like… a baby angel. And when Lucifer was leading his rebellion he stole children and forced them to fall to hell with him. It was just another way to bring misery, forcing the innocent to share the burden of his punishment. I think he got a sick pleasure from raising her. He "loved" her, or at least she thought he did. He was very, very good as playing Father. Prince of Lies and all that. He gets a chuckle knowing she's so happy here rotting in hell and has no idea what she's missing from her true destiny in Heaven. But that goodness inside of her can't be extinguished. She's an angel. She has a natural instinct to help human souls and fight evil. But because she was raised in Hell, she doesn't understand the complexities of sin that the elder angels would have informed her about. She's naive, and she certainly has to learn how to help guide people towards a brighter path, but she doesn't change her stance. So many times characters who believe in the good of people end stories with some pessimistic maturity where they realize that some people can't be helped. But Charlie doesn't change. Charlie stands firm at the end of the series believing that EVERYONE can be redeemed. It won't be easy, and you could argue it's not even fair, but she believes it. Lucifer chastises her, saying it'll take an eternity to change a sinner's mind, but she just smiles. Because an eternity is what she has, and she'll spend it helping people.

Also Chalastor is canon.

#hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel critique #hazin hotel rewrite #adam and lute don't exist because heaven is actually good in this rewrite #also the vees might exist but definitely not in the form they do now #the extermination is done by lucifer and the other demons #they get their kicks watching sinners scream and run and beg for their afterlives #it also causes a false sense of scarcity which makes them act even worse to each other

[jellipuff]

Goddd big sub mingyu in a pretty pink gown. Imagine him calling you daddy and probably agreeing on a day when you can free use him whenever you want and just fuck him full of your cum until he's all dumb and begging to get filled and be pregnant 😭

…

…

ANON?! Omgg shut upppp because why are you in my head??

Oversharing moment here but i like to be called many things but something about ME being called daddy makes me feel like i'm glitching. Add that to this scenario you gave me and i will DIE.

I love that you love big sub!mingyu in a pretty pink gown because he’s such a lovely prince that he loves it even more! :(( cutie mingyu has the prettiest gowns and daintiest lingerie because he’s your baby whose only job around you is to be happy and fucked full until the mess leaking beneath you both is too much. He’s such an angel knowing just how much Daddy needs him, knows how much you love using him. 

He knows you miss him so much and he misses you even more! it’s not fair that your job keeps you from him when he craves you this intensely. Even if his hole is still puffy from where he begged and pleaded last night for more. More strength, more kisses, more cum, more of Daddy! :< 

Mingyu thinks the people at your job need a reason to let you come home earlier, a reason to give you more days off, and mingyu knows one he can give them. 

so when you step in the door late one night a bit tired yet overjoyed at finally being home, you are surprised that your night is full of mingyu in your favorite pink nightgown of his as he begs for you to knock him. Pushing his hips back as your hands grip them harder; telling you how good it feels. He can't help but keep whining about how messy Daddy’s cum is but not once does he stop asking for it. Even as you pull out, leaving him empty he think it’s the fullest he’s ever been. Panting heavily as drool escapes his mouth; he gazes at you through lidded eyes before smiling. “Hole is s’messy Daddy, thank you.” 

Mingyu knows he won’t get pregnant but with the way you still look so hungry for him despite filling him up multiple times, he also knows you’re going to call in sick tomorrow. So he’ll take his win and maybe if he wakes you up in the morning with his hole and lashes fluttering, you’ll give him another round of whatever he wants, whenever you want. 

( btw i’m sorry for answering this so late!! I saw your ask a bit ago but wasn’t feeling motivated to write and was having a bit of anxiety around writing. I do want to say thank you so so much for sending an ask because I love gushing about things and talking to you all. I also wrote a whole fic around this ask soooo that’ll be out soon hehe! I just need to figure out how to post on here without getting got by the labels (╥_╥). )

#svt imagines #svt smut #svt drabbles #svt x reader #svt x dom!reader #sub!svt #mingyu x reader #sub!mingyu #mingyu smut #mingyu scenarios #sub!idol #mingyu imagines #nico answers #svt asks

[skitskatdacat63]

I wish AI images didn't make me so intensely upset. Just the existence of them bothers me a lot, because it's just clutter without meaning or emotion or any genuineness. But recently something happened that made me very upset, and I feel so irrational saying this, but it really gave me this sick, heart-wrenching feeling, and I wish it would stop. My mom was looking through Facebook, and showed me this image of birds that to me was so obviously AI. But she wasn't 100% sure it was fake, only telling me after I had told her it was definitely AI, that she had been a bit unsure about it.

I hate how intense my feelings are about it, bcs it made me want to irrationally almost infantalize her without meaning to. It just made me overwhelmingly sad that this is state of things. That people are being fed this imitation, this trash, and aren't familiar enough to recognize it all the time. Every time I think about it, it hurts my chest.

#im in a unrelated hyper emotional state at the moment #so i think thats obviously a factor as to why this is getting to me so much #BUT IT REALLY DOES MAKE ME SO INTENSELY UPSET #and i feel bad bcs i was definitely infantalizing her without meaning to #i didnt want to make her feel bad but god it just makes me so upset #this is the future of things???? #she just wanted to see cute animals pics :( #and an account posing as a legitimate photography account posts that fucking trash #it makes me so upset #sorry im probably being really over dramatic and irrational about this #but ir really does make my chest hurt every time i think about it and i wish it would stop #it just makes me so depressed with the state of the internet #like when i try to look up simple reference pictures #and a lot of the search result is blatantly obvious AI trash #and it makes me intensely sad that there's people out there that cant tell the difference as well #and are being fed trash and lies. it hurts so bad to me #i wish this would pass soon #i mean im still going to be upset about the state of things. but I'd like to stop feeling this wounded #needed to write this and put it out there in hopes it will absolve the weird sick feeling i have about it #catie.rambling.txt

[icewindandboringhorror]

Recent sky photos 

#still... I am not joking.. every time I post things like this it is so hard to narrow them down #I am almost as obsessed with the sky as I am with cats. I have a folder of just cloud pictures with like 650 photos in it right now #I don't post them all because I think it'd seem repetitive probably but just know... lol #that could be an entire blog or something.. hundreds and hundreds... #Like the same way that I cannot explain my obsession with cats or why they've imprinted into my brain so heavily - clouds are the same way #anyway.. .still have the costume photos and stuff like that I just havent edited and posted yet lol.. I will.. hoepfully have actual art #content and stuff thats not just random cat photos sometime soon. I'm just always so preoccupied at the beginning of the year with trying to #adjust to new goals and schedules.. plus.. still wokriong on that wretched little slideshow aaaaaaaaaaaa... it is going to take me... #a million yearbs..... #I just want the worldbuiling lore established so I can branch out and do other things.. aughhhh...... #also have to work on game videos and a few other vidoes.. still trying to keep up wiht the youtube a little.. I just havent been productive #like since new years as I've felt sicker with my stomach symptoms and stuff.. ToT ALSO I DID MAKE THAT ENTIRE interactive fiction game which #I still have no posted anywhere lol.. Because it was kind of to accompany something that I was doing on a game site (like imagine making a g #ame to go along with one of your neopets or something) but it works totally fine as a standalone thing as well like. so detached from the #lore of the game site in general that it'd be broadly understandable and is it's own thing of course (because I dont really like writing #other people's characters/in the confine's of other worlds so I made everything original as possible with just a loose tie in to the neopets #typw thing lol) - but I figured since it works on it's own I could post it publicly other places too like 'hey look I made something' since #that is...... kind of somehting that counts as like... being creatively productive lol? like I keep talking about getting nothing done while #also forgetting about the things I actually HAVE done. alas I continuously forget. Seriously I am so bad at social media. I am never exagger #ating for comedic effect or something. I am the type of person that could legit like. write and produce and direct and complete a movie #that will be million dollars shown in theaters or something and I would forget to mention it anywherte until like 5 months later and go 'oh #uh .. oh yeah.. i should post about that online somehwere probably.. oops' . Cursed with the 'forget about everything once it's complete' #trait. Like the way my brain works is just like. once I finish something I'm immediately like 'cool! onto the next thing!!' without processi #ng what i just did. I'm just always looking forward to the next thing. I'll finish sculptures and then throw them away or forget about them. #I take photos and they sit in the drafts for 6 months before I post them. Like to me the enjoyment comes from the PROCESS of making somehtin #g but I don't care as much about the end result so it just doesnt exist in my brain anymore once I'm done? idk.. anyway ghjbhj #SORRY.. trying to be more active. I want to make and sell sculptures again. sell all of my spare clothes too. stuff. things.. aaa.. ***

[ladyofpembroke]

Like, being interested in character dynamics and relationships is one thing but viewing Emmy award winning television through the lens of ships and ship wars like it’s a cw show is so strange to me, like there is so much else going on.

#did I find the t*mgr*g dynamic interesting the first three seasons of course but do I think that including less of their dynamic is some #major failing of writing? no #it’s the last season and there’s a lot going on #am I interested in the tomshiv dynamic? yes would I say I ‘shipped’ it? no i just enjoy seeing it play out #also it’s weird to me that people are complaining the very interesting scenes between them and saying they’re not necessary #because don’t you think it be much weirder if they didn’t explore what going through a divorce/your dad dying/having to work with your #probably soon to be ex husband #would look and feel like between two messed up individuals? #succession #very controversial take i know #at least actually posting it #also *complaining about

[ceilidhtransing]

It's so good to go through the Ace Week tag and read everyone's different experiences with asexuality and other ace-spectrum identities.

What's particularly interesting to me is when people talk about having had really long and difficult journeys realising they were ace - because for me, it was pretty much instant. As an adolescent I never paid much attention to my sexuality, passively assuming I was some kind of late bloomer, dreading the apparent inevitability that at some point I would have to have sex but rationalising that since everyone does it and everyone likes it then some day I'd feel the same (or at least have to put up with it, because what other option is there), until one day an acquaintance casually mentioned asexuality in conversation. From this first hearing of the word to me fully identifying as ace was about 1-2 days. It was like switching on a light. The fact that I'm ace was just so obvious and unavoidable, and as soon as I heard that what I already felt had A Word and was actually recognised as A Thing, that was it, I knew that was me. Seven and a half years later, that's still how I feel.

So I guess what I want to communicate - aside from just adding one more perspective and experience to the communal discussion that happens every October - is that it's entirely OK if the realisation of your sexuality comes not after a lengthy, agonising process of self-reflection, but rather very quickly after first hearing that a word exists. Your identity feeling so obvious and unquestionable that it required almost zero period of questioning doesn't make it any less real or valid or accurate than an identity reached after years of uncertainty and scrutiny. I think sometimes in the queer community we talk about long, slow realisations more than we talk about these lightbulb "oh, right, that's me" moments, but the latter definitely happen too (as does everything in between!) and you're absolutely valid no matter what journey you took to reach your identity.

#i think this kind of experience is probably particularly common among people of less well-known identities #because a lot of the time it's presented as either “i never had a 'moment of realisation'; i always knew i was gay”... #...or “it took me 10+ years to finally realise who i was” #it's very difficult for the likes of ace people to “always know we're ace” because it's an identity... #...so rarely talked about that a lot of us grow up just never even hearing it mentioned #and then sometimes as soon as we do hear it we go “oh right that's me that was relatively easy” #not that ace people never have long and winding roads to finding their identity! as i say plenty of people have that experience #and everyone's road is valid no matter what it looks like #so happy ace week everyone #ace #asexual #asexuality #acespec #ace week #asexuality awareness week #questioning #questioning ace #my posts

[silverislander]

fully intended and foreseen consequence of coping better with my anxiety is that this blog will at some point inevitably become More Cringe and that point is SO close on the horizon. if you get mad at me for posting things i like on my blog that is for me you clearly have more issues than i do for worrying abt that possibility for hours on end

#its tumblr were all cringe here. fucking grow up or leave genuinely #also i literally tag everything im into + trigger tags too. block tags or just unfollow me theres no hard feelings i prommy #anyway. ive been falling back into creepypasta which ive mentioned before i was super into as a teen! fun stuff #i love that the fandom is still alive and doing fun new stuff :') theres such good art out there!! and character interpretations!!!! #and ive also gotten really into league lore over the past few months actually. the arcane fixation has morphed #basically it went 'this character looks cool whats their deal. whats this region like. oh another neat character lets look into that' #and then suddenly i know too much™️ bc hyperfixations for me are about gathering information and stories like a raccoon #i have FEELINGS about it. post probably incoming soon abt that #and BRIAR!! shes a little gremlin i kind of love her already #levi.txt #will i delete this in the morning? lets see #but for real tho. im doing really good lately. things arent perfect but i feel like a person for once #i can talk to strangers without acting like a trapped prey animal! it turns out im fucking funny actually! people like my jokes #im SLEEPING again. regularly. that was an issue for nearly a year and im doing ok again (not perfect but hey! ~8hrs!!) #i can just. sit around in public now and not feel like im on a hidden camera show where everyone is judging the way i breathe #slowly switching from self deprecation 'i want to die' jokes to 'im literally gods favourite prince and the hottest bitch alive' #i still get really nervous but it doesnt feel like a personal flaw and it doesnt feel insurmountable anymore #so yeah naturally thats going to come with (hopefully) a lot less shame around things that i like #just asking kindly that people are normal abt it. this is me thriving i guess

[kimmkitsuragi]

i would like to thank my new obsession with kendall roy for remind me about this album and this song specifically. i mean i never forgot but i just didnt listen to it in years so

#im stilllll not finished with that playlist and im looking at other people's playlists for inspo ofc #and i keep seeing this and im like yes. but. it's too easy guys it's too easy #it's the bipolar girl anthem so ofc he's going up going down down down anything for the crown crown crown and such #it's so tempting to put it in my playlist too tho lmao #anyway. i will finalize and post these playlists hopefully soon. i mean probably no one cares but i still wanna #🗒 #mp3 #marina #Spotify

[mcmansionhell]

ode to a faux grecian urn

Howdy everyone,

Today's house, built in 2001, comes to you from, you guessed it, the Chicago suburbs. The house is a testimony to traditional craftsmanship and traditional values (having lots of money.) The cost of painting this house greige is approximately the GDP of Slovenia so the owners have decided to keep it period perfect (beige.) Anyway.

This 5 bedroom, 7.5 bathroom house clocks in at a completely reasonable 12,700 square feet. If you like hulking masses and all-tile interiors, it could be all yours for the reasonable price of $2.65 million.

The problem with having a house that is 12,700 square feet is that they have to go somewhere. At least 500 of them were devoted to this foyer. Despite the size, I consider this a rather cold and lackluster welcome. Cold feet anyone?

The theme of this house is, vaguely, "old stuff." Kind of like if Chuck E Cheese did the sets for Spartacus. Why the dining room is on a platform is a good question. The answer: the American mind desires clearly demarcated space, which, sadly, is verboten in our culture.

The other problem with a 12,700 square foot house is that even huge furniture looks tiny in it.

Entering cheat codes in "Kitchen Building Sim 2000" because I spent my entire $70,000 budget on the island.

Of course, a second sitting room (without television) is warranted. Personally, speaking, I'm team Prince.

I wonder why rich people do this. Surely they must know it's tacky right? That it's giving Liberace? (Ask your parents, kids.) That it's giving Art.com 75% off sale if you enter the code ROMANEMPIRE.

Something about the bathroom really just says "You know what, I give up. Who cares?" But this is not even the worst part of the bathroom...

Not gonna lie, this activates my flight or fight response.

If you remember Raggedy Ann you should probably schedule your first colonoscopy.

Anyways, that does it for the interior. Let's take a nice peek at what's out back.

I love mowing in a line. I love monomaniacal tasks that are lethal to gophers.

Alright, that does it for this edition of McMansion Hell. Back to the book mines for me. Bonus posts up on Patreon soon.

If you like this post and want more like it, support McMansion Hell on Patreon for as little as $1/month for access to great bonus content including a discord server, extra posts, and livestreams.

Not into recurring payments? Try the tip jar! Student loans just started back up!

#architecture #design #mcmansion #mcmansions #ugly houses #interior design #bad architecture #mcmansion hell #illinois #2000s

[chirpingchorus]

chirp

(long and silly rant in tags so maybe don't open them if you're scrolling at a leisurely pace)

#chirp #the photos aren't enough... #i say with 25 queued... #inane and sudden desire to become a gifmaker has overtaken me :0 #would probably take a lot more time + effort than what i already do but i imagine most of these photos have been posted before... #so even if i've never seen them around i sometimes feel bad in posting them #i don't really watch many concerts though #whereas i read the interviews just to try and see what inspired the songs. good album recs from the band. so on so forth. #its worth it bc every few years they'll get an interviewer who's a total music theory nut #still love the guy who confronted thom about his use of pedal tones.... and geeked out about the creep progression. he gets me. #not to mention seeing all the people who interviewed them in their early days bring up stuff like pop is dead ten years later just because #and then there's the fun facts like nigel telling them they couldn't eat until they were done with 2 + 2 = 5. mad dog selway. #thom insisting 5 or 6 times so far that hail to the thief is a sexy record... why... but you get the idea #not sure why i'm saying any of this or what the Point of this set of tag ramblings is supposed to be uhh. #maybe i'll make gifs in the future but there are a lot more interviews to go... and lots of old ones i want to look at again... #and even more to chase down if they're not up on citizeninsane. so i might be all rh'd out (impossible) by then. #i'm also not reading the interviews For the photos or ''clout''... it's for the anecdotes. my doc for notes on them is literally the size o #a middle grade novel... Oops ! but yeah the photos are pretty recent. i've been at this since like december on and off. #and who knows maybe i will grow tired of the pictures or they will somehow cease to be entertaining! #or i will get a life and not spend hours a day reading interviews... it's not too bad an addiction. cause i'll be done soon.

[madnesscombatredacted]

I fucking goddam hate that I think 24/7 about Dad from Dadness Combat. He is an absolute affront to god and his design is mid compared to other face grunt fan characters I've seen. I would display all of his sins in a convenient poster, but images are not allowed for anons, so basically he "enlightens" things without asking, so yeah, super fucked up. But man I want to post about him so badly, but I have to actively repress it for the sake of my own reputation. Also I think he has a milf of a wife, but she also enlightens without asking so fuck her. Anyways if want to see Dadness Combat for context, I at least gotta warn about the physical harm of flashing lights. There also a lot of offensives things in there.

went to search for it and saw the first two lines of the wiki, never again

#[REDACTED] #i'm probably gonna watch it one day soon but damn that's one hell of a description #average madcom fan animation what do we expect #please do submit the poster though i'll gladly post it as anon #unless you don't want me to see you too in that case that's a whole other thing #i wanna know how tf people think of these ideas like how did you see hank pissing in public and go #“yeah gonna make a fan animation about an extremely disturbing subject” #only on newgrounds LMAO #watch me look stupid as fuck because i know nothing about this and this might not have been even posted to newgrounds #also me adding the [REDACTED] tag is up for question i'm not sure myself

[steddielations]

Steve acts on instinct.

There’s this guy in all black walking in front of him, he’s too busy looking down at his phone to notice, but Steve doesn’t trust that lamppost. He’s been going for daily runs, he likes to keep it simple during the off-season, and that post has been getting more rickety every day. Now it’s swaying dangerously in the wind and he knows it’s about to tumble.

There’s no time to call out to the guy, so Steve just plows forward and tackles him out of the way.

They fall in a messy heap and Steve unfortunately lands heavily on top.

“Holy shit! What the— ugh!” The guy heaves in pain and Steve hurries to scramble off of him.

“Sorry, that post was about to fall on you, man. You alright?”

Pieces of grass stick to the guy’s long hair as he takes stock of Steve and what happened. With a labored breath, he surprisingly jokes, “Guess I’m lucky the best football tackler alive happened to be right behind me.”

It’s sarcastic as shit but Steve smiles with a tug of amusement as he offers his hand. “Baseball, actually.”

“You’re in the wrong league, man,” he lets Steve pull him to his feet and groans on the way up. “Well, nice to meet you, Baseball, you pack a hell of a first impression. I’m Eddie.”

Steve would appreciate his ability to joke so soon after taking a hit, but people are starting to gather around. There’s already phones pointed at them that probably caught the whole thing on camera. Steve’s used to public attention by now, knows the press is going to have a field day with this and he hates causing a scene, but he wants to make sure Eddie is okay.

“Just Steve is good. You wanna…? This way,” he gestures toward the sidewalk and thankfully, Eddie seems just as eager to get out of there too, shuffling next to Steve as they round the corner.

He’s wearing so much metal jewelry, it’s like a costume, the jingle jangle of his every step accentuating how shaken up he seems. They get far enough behind a building and Steve stops to have a real look at him and… well he’s interesting to look at.

It’s like he hopped off the album cover of an 80s rock band, or one of Steve’s Bon Jovi posters that he hid under his bed in high school. Way too much leather and way too much hair for the California sun, all disheveled with grass and dirt.

“You sure you’re okay? Here, you got a little…” Steve’s hand hovers until Eddie nods that it’s okay from him to pluck the grass from his hair and lightly brush the dust from his shoulders. Eddie watches him the whole time, his eyes big and dark, an intensity in them that Steve can’t quite read but he can feel. “Didn’t hit your head or anything, did you?”

Steve lowers his hands, stepping back a little when he realizes how close they are. Eddie’s eyes follow him, a slight quirk to his lips that makes Steve feel the heat of the sun a little warmer on his face.

“I’m touched by your concern, sweetheart, but my brain has been through worse damage than a little bump.”

Steve frowns at the ladder, but the first bit definitely makes him feel the heat. He’s admittedly a bit out of practice but he can still recognize a come on. One that he definitely invited with all the touching and indulgent looks.

Then Eddie starts profusely thanking him for the whole ordeal, asking to treat him somewhere nearby for lunch. It’s not that Steve doesn’t want to, he’s very interested actually, and thankful that out of all the jewelry Eddie’s sporting, there’s no wedding ring. That’s why he’s reluctant because he’s all sweaty at the moment. Not to mention, he didn’t finish his run yet.

“Surely saving my life was enough cardio,” Eddie jokes lightly and Steve snorts.

“I saved you from a minor concussion, maybe,” and okay he’s gotta accept now.

The place is small and unassuming, burgers and sodas type joint. Steve’s likely to be recognized there, which he doesn’t mind meeting fans in public just preferably not now, it might be jarring for Eddie.

He heads for the booth tucked in the back corner, the most private looking spot that Steve had his eyes on too. They get a round of sodas from the waitress and right away, Eddie starts thanking him again.

“I noticed that lamppost wobbling days ago,” Steve sparks a conversation instead of accepting any more thanks, “I was planning to let it fall on me so I could sue the shit out of the city.”

He’s pleasantly startled by the big cackle that gets out of Eddie, “Any chance to stick it to the man. I admire that.”

“‘Course I would’ve really stuck it to ‘em and donated it back to the community,” Steve adds.

“Giving the people’s money back to the people, imagine Big Brother’s horror. Noble guy.”

Eddie seems to bubble with contagious delight that doesn’t match his whole leather and chains thing at all, but it fits into the somewhat magic of him. It's a wonder to Steve.

“Do I know you from somewhere?” Eddie ventures, a glint of recognition in his eyes that Steve’s seen a thousand times. He doesn’t ping Eddie as much of a sports guy and he’s not vain enough to assume everyone knows who he is. Eddie’s probably seen him while flipping the channel past ESPN or something. Or maybe an ad for that Netflix thing he did documenting last year’s season.

“I think I’d definitely remember you.”

Steve didn’t mean it as a come-on, just that Eddie’s appearance really isn’t forgettable, but he can tell by the wicked little grin Eddie sports that it was taken as one. Steve likes that even better.

“Have you ever modeled, or anything? You’ve got the looks for it.”

Biting back a smile of his own, Steve shakes his head. “I bet you say that to everyone who saves your life.”

“None of them were half as good looking." That sounds concerning but Steve’s distracted by Eddie swirling his straw in his drink, regarding him with a long look. “Really though, I just feel like I’ve seen you before.”

Steve’s done a few covers of Sports Illustrated, but he doubts Eddie has ever picked up a copy of that, so he shrugs. “Must’ve been in your dreams.”

Eddie laughs softer this time. “You trying to sweep me off my feet or something?”

“Already did.” Steve leans back, enjoying the way Eddie’s eyes follow him.

Conversation sparks and it never really dies out. Eddie just grabs topics out of thin air, talking about the city and what they like to do and movies and his amazement that Steve knows all about D&D because he’s a nerd magnet. Eddie’s personality spills through everything he says like it can’t be contained. He’s talkative in a good way, not to a point where Steve can’t get a word in. He listens intently, has a way of putting all his attention onto Steve like he’s the most interesting person he’s ever spoken to.

It’s surprisingly easy to relax. Not because Eddie has a super calming presence or anything, his energy is just all-encompassing, it’s hard for Steve not to get sucked in and hang on to every word he says. It’s one of the rare times in public that he’s not hyper-aware of everyone around him and too paranoid of having a photo snapped and taken out of context to even enjoy himself.

That happens a lot, being one of the only professional athletes who’s open about his sexuality. The media is extremely invasive with his private life. If he’s seen with any guy friend, there’s a whole press storm about Steve Harrington’s “secret beau” within the hour. It’s ridiculous and he tries so hard to keep his lovelife under wraps that maybe he’s been neglecting it entirely, at least that’s what Robin says.

Of course, that’s when his phone lights up with a message from her. His heart sinks a little when he sees the title of the article she sent to him. He quickly shoots her a text and locks his phone without reading it.

“Everything alright?” Eddie notices the shift in Steve’s mood right away.

“Yeah just,” he sighs, bracing for the inevitable part when Eddie realizes Steve isn’t worth the hassle of all this, “Someone filmed us earlier and now it’s all over the press. I’m really sorry, I totally get it if—”

“Nah, don’t worry about it, it’s fine. I figured that would happen,” Eddie brushes it off, but Steve shakes his head.

“I don’t think you understand, it’s—”

“Wanna bet?” Eddie smirks for some reason, “I’m fine with it, I promise.”

He tosses a chip into his mouth and picks right back up with the story he was telling.

Steve is stunned for a moment, wary that maybe Eddie doesn’t fully grasp how deep this goes. But he stays there with Steve, seemingly thrilled to keep talking with him even when a family comes in and keeps staring their way, obviously building up the courage to come over and ask for a picture. Eddie’s acting like Steve’s the only person in the room and that’s enough to assure Steve that he’s really fine with it.

He’s so locked into Eddie, he barely registers when the older son from the family’s table finally wanders over and asks for a picture.

Steve is in the middle of wiping his face with a napkin, about to greet him when suddenly, Eddie pops up and asks Steve to excuse him for a minute.

“C’mon little man, let’s do it,” he says and much to Steve’s confusion, the teen excitedly goes with Eddie to his family’s table.

Steve watches, utterly baffled, as they start snapping photos and expressing what big fans they are and Eddie takes it with such bravado, laughing and chatting like he’s with a group of friends.

What the— Steve grabs his phone, opening the article Robin sent him at lightning speed.

At first, he wonders how the press was able to find out Eddie’s full name so quickly, then he sees the words "troubled rockstar" and "recovering star" so many times, it becomes abundantly clear.

Oh.

He’s not so worried about the troubled part, everyone has their shit and he doesn’t read into any of it. Those are Eddie’s stories to tell Steve if he chooses, not some tabloid. But the rockstar part connects a lot of dots that have come up in the last couple of hours since meeting Eddie and—

Yeah, just. Oh.

Part 2

#what if they’re both secretly famous and clueless about each other #this is called ‘Upstaged’ #part two soon #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie fic #stranger things #steddie ficlet #rockstar eddie munson #baseball player steve harrington #famous steve harrington #meet cute #saved your life trope #famous eddie munson #rueswriting

[ms-demeanor]

Due to some stuff brought up in recent posts I believe it is time to once again extol the virtues of Ms-Demeanor's Patented Where Did I Put That Fucking Paper Organizational Binder.

Hello! I am a disorganized adult! This is the system by which I manage my important shit like pink slips for my car and medical records and tax information.

You're going to need:

A 3-Ring Binder

Transparent Sheet Protectors

Notebook dividers (optional but VERY useful)

A backpack (optional)

So the way this system works is you put the sheet protectors into the binder. You can either use the dividers to divide the binder into sections or you can label some of the sheet protectors to make different sections but what you are generally going to do is make sections of the binder labeled things like "taxes" or "vet" or "doctor" and put a few sheet protectors in each section.

Then all of your papers with important information get crammed in that folder. You don't organize them, you don't sort them by date, you don't alphabetize. You put things vaguely relating to taxes into the sheet protectors in the taxes section. You put things relating to cars in the cars section. You don't even attempt to make this readable - you're not using sheet protectors so that you can read each page and keep it legible, you're using sheet protectors because it's a cheap plastic bag that will sit nicely in a binder.

You CAN put stuff into the individual sheet protectors when you get it, but let's be realistic you probably WON'T do that, so just tuck individual papers into the front of the binder until you get to a critical mass of paperwork then take an hour to sit down and sort into categories and put it in the binder once every six months to three years (depending on how frequently you get paperwork). Sometimes these sections will outgrow their original allotted space - since my spouse had a transplant surgery the medical section has had to become its own folder - and that's okay. If you end up with multiple folders just keep them together (this is why the backpack is an option, and one I strongly recommend).

Because yeah, if my organization system relies on opening up a drawer and putting something where it belongs as soon as I get the paper, I will simply not be organized. It's not going to happen. But I can handle a messy stack of paper that sits in one place and grows until it is time to shove it into a binder. I can't organize things for thirty seconds a day every day but I can organize things for an hour once every year or so (maybe two hours every five years when I sort out stuff I don't need like copies of warranties for parts on a car I don't own anymore).

When my mom died she had about fifty pounds of paper files in her office that were neatly organized in a system that didn't make any sense to my dad, my sister, and I. I ended up sorting through those files for twenty hours, tossing out copies of paid invoices from ten years ago and student handbooks from my junior high school. I reduced one filing cabinet, two desk file drawers, and a foot-high stack to a six inch binder that I gave to my dad. My mom died five years ago; two months ago my dad asked me about a medical document and I was able to tell him to go look for it in the medical section of the binder. It was there, because ALL IMPORTANT SHIT GOES IN THE BINDER.

Where is my birth certificate? In the binder. Where is my tax return from 2017? In the binder. Where is the record of my dog's last rabies shot? In the binder. Where are the records for my life insurance? In the binder.

A lot of what people consider "being organized" breaks down to whether or not you can find the specific things that you're looking for. Does my binder look nice? Is it aesthetic? Does it have color-coded tabs and papers all laid out neatly? Absolutely fucking not. But if you ask me where to find a paper I know that I can do so within about five minutes of shuffling through the pile of letter-folded sheets that I pulled out of the appropriate section of the binder.

I've discussed the Where Did I Put that Fucking Paper Binder before, but now it is time to expand that concept to the Backpack of Important Shit.

You likely have Important Shit that does not fit in a binder. Some of my Important Shit that does not fit in a binder is stuff like jewelry and the spare key for my car. Other stuff - the reason I decided to bring this up at all - includes my backup hard drive and packaging (including product key codes) for pretty much all of the software that I own. This is also where I store printed out copies of the recovery codes for most of the online accounts that I have.

There's a lot of weird fiddly shit that we have to have that we might not access all that often. This is the kind of stuff that might end up in junk drawers or under sinks or in disused laptop bags or kicking around under a bunch of papers in a desk drawer.

It doesn't matter so much when that weird fiddly shit is a set of hex keys or a utility knife or a protractor or a copy of a student handbook but it DOES matter when it's something that you might need to put your hands on in a hurry. If your computer crashes, you're not going to want to track down the software in the back of a filing cabinet and the backup drive from somewhere in the bowels of your desk. If you lock your keys in your car you are not going to want to figure out if your spare is in a junk drawer or the old purse where you keep semi-important stuff or the tin on your desk that has buttons and pins and headphone covers. Just put it in the Backpack of Important Shit and when you need it you know where to look.

So anyway, if you are a person who is a minor disaster who has trouble finding important things when you need them please don't think that you have to get your life together and have a nice organized filing cabinet or clear plastic bins full of documents or a neatly divided storage closet where everything from board games to backup drives has its own neatly labeled place. Just assign ONE LOCATION for important shit and start putting the important shit there. It doesn't matter if you have a filing cabinet where you keep old copies of homework and printouts of online orders and family history records - you do not need to keep everything that is file-able in one place and depending on what level of catastrophe you are it might be detrimental to you if you try to do that. It doesn't matter if you have a jewelry box where you keep your collection of gauges and wrist cuffs; if you are going to stress out about where grandma's ring is when you're digging through your collection of cheap earrings and silver pendants then *do not keep grandma's ring or any other Important, Vital, Cannot Be Lost jewelry in with your day-to-day wear*.

I live someplace that has fires. My binder got upgraded to my Backpack of Important Shit when the fires were getting uncomfortably close to the house I was living in and I wanted to have one bag to grab if we had to get out fast. Once I did that, I never took the binder out of the backpack and the backpack has now made three moves with me and has meant that I've had my birth certificate handy when I needed it in the middle of a move between two states, I was able to provide a history of my cholesterol panel going back six years to a visiting nurse, and I was able to give the exact names and contact info of my spouse's previous surgeon to the hospital when I had unexpectedly moved to a new state with three bags and my work computer at the beginning of the pandemic.

Get yourself a backpack of important shit and a folder of where the fuck did i put that paper. It is so much easier to search a backpack for important shit than to go through an entire house and it is so much easier to flip through a binder than it is to dig through a filing cabinet.

Anyway good luck and happy adulting.

[finelinefae]

tongue-tied

synopsis: y/n has a stutter and harry likes to hear her talk

word count: 3.1k

contains: fluff, highschool romance, harry's a football player, popular boy x shy girl, brief mentions of bullying

a/n: happy soft girl Sunday !! I wasn’t planning on posting just because I posted the second part of the aviator a little later than I was meant to but I could resist putting this one out <3

. . .

“E-excuse me!” Y/N weaved her way through the mass exodus of students heading in the opposite direction to the lunch hall. She had tried to leave class a few minutes before the lunch bell to avoid the large groups of people but she had been so invested in writing her essay, she’d lost complete track of time. 

She was running as fast as she possibly could to get to the library, knowing the person waiting for her wouldn’t get too impatient but she didn’t want to waste a second of their lunch break not being with him. Her bag slipped from her shoulder, her braids flying behind her and her knee-high socks falling down her calves. 

Y/N barely registered the people around her, wondering where she could be going in such a rush, until her face collided with soft, grey fabric. Before she could even get embarrassed and profusely have to apologise for bumping into them, long arms snaked around her, hands clasping behind her back. She caught a whiff of his woody cologne and the floral fragranced detergent his mum always used to wash his school uniform.

“There y’ are, Dove.” He murmured, “I was starting to get worried.”

Y/N looked up and settled on those familiar green eyes she loved so much. She relaxed into his embrace, “Harry,” She sighed. 

Harry and Y/N had been dating since they were fourteen. If it weren’t for the fact that their parents all worked together at the local hospital, they probably would never have met at all, although Harry liked to believe they were fated to be together so they would have ended up meeting each other some way or another. 

Harry had always been popular at school. For one, he was on the football team which instantly made him a name within their year group. He was also very handsome for his age. Girls would whisper and giggle whenever he passed by in the hallways even those from the lower years. Despite the fact they had just turned seventeen, Harry could honestly pass for an almost twenty-year-old with how tall and mature he was. 

Y/N was the complete opposite. When it came to her social life she was shy and not often one to make friends easily. She was part of the arithmetic club and had made a few friends there and in some of her other classes. She liked to keep to herself and struggled to talk in class not only because she was quiet but also because she had a particularly bad stutter. 

It had developed when she started High School. She had been to multiple speech therapists to help her get rid of it and although it wasn’t as bad as it used to be, it still never failed to make her life all the more difficult than it already was.

A lot of the other kids liked to pick on her for it too. Whenever teachers picked on her in class and she’d reply, the rest of the class would start snickering, whispering in each other’s ears. She wanted to be invisible to everyone but it was her stutter that made her stand out.

When Harry’s family would come over to Y/N’s house for dinner, her parents would often force them to go off together whilst the adults spoke in the dining room. She remembered the first time she invited him into her room and how embarrassed she was when he saw all her comic books lying on the floor that she had forgotten to put away. But it eventually became the seed of their relationship, the common ground that allowed them to bond. 

Soon Harry was inviting Y/N to his football games and up to his room every other weekend when she’d come over with her parents. They’d exchange comic books and talk about their favourite characters. Y/N was always apologising for her stutter whenever she’d ramble on for too long but Harry never cared, he loved hearing her talk. 

Their first kiss was on her bed whilst their parents were in the room below them. Harry was the one to initiate it and Y/N hadn’t been expecting it so it was slightly awkward at first but then she got used to it and eventually all she ever wanted to do was kiss him. Every weekend, whether at her place or his, all they did was sneak around and kiss each other, giggling and falling in love all at the same time. 

Now, three years later, things were still the same except they were older now and more in love than they were yesterday. 

Wherever you looked, Harry was there, and Y/N was never too far behind. Students had grown accustomed to their relationship, and the bullying Y/N endured wasn't as severe as it used to be. Even teachers couldn't help but be enamoured with their young love — how fortunate it was to find love at such a young age. 

Things were great, everything was great and Y/N had hoped she could finish her last year of High School on a high note. That was until she entered her English class on a Friday afternoon when the teacher announced it was time for their presentations which would go towards their final grade. 

“I can’t Harry!” Y/N cried into her pillow after school, Harry was sitting on the end of her bed with his back against the wall as he rubbed his hand up and down her back. 

“I know Dove,” He comforted her, already knowing the reason she was so upset over it.

“Everyone’s going to l-laugh at me,” She could already picture herself standing up in front of her class and everyone pointing and laughing at her. 

Harry sighed, “Dove,” He shook her gently, “Will y’ look at me?” 

Y/N hesitated before turning her head so her cheek lay against the pillow. Harry smiled and lay on his side in the spot next to her, their faces inches apart, “There’s m’ pretty girl,” He cooed, his heart hurting at the tears on her cheeks. He cupped her cheek in his big hand and wiped some of those tears away with his thumb. 

“I-It’s not fair,” She huffed, “Why’d I have to have this stupid stutter.” 

“Hey,” He frowned, “Enough of that hmm? Everything about you is beautiful, y’ know I love to hear y’ talk. Could sit here for hours and just listen.” 

“But you’re d-different,” She whined, shuffling closer to him so she could hide her face in his grey jumper. Her stutter was rarely ever that bad in front of Harry which was why he was the easiest person she could talk to. 

Harry laughed breathily, his hand going to her hair to play with the strands, “Would it help if I helped you a little?” 

“How?” Y/N asked, her words muffled by his jumper.

“We could practise in the library at lunch, y’ could read me a few things and it might help your stutter.”  He thought.

Y/N’s head looked up to his face where she could count every mole and freckle on his nose and cheeks. She couldn’t help but pucker her lips to kiss his jawline, “That’d be nice,” She murmured. 

“Yeah?” He smiled, kissing the top of her head in return, “I only want to help you so if you don’t enjoy it or you’d rather practise alone then y’ can tell me,” 

She shook her head, “N-No, I want to do that with you. I’d like it very much.” 

So it became a daily occurrence, five days a week during lunch hours when Harry didn’t have practice, they’d sit in the library and Harry would pick out a book for them to read. They started with simple YA books with less complicated words. 

“Good job, Dove!” Harry cheered every time Y/N finished a chapter. 

“Wait I’m not done,” She huffed and then said the last line just for Harry to cheer for her again just as proudly as the first time. 

Now that the day of her presentation was getting closer, they had finally made their way onto Classical novels which Y/N had come to despise. 

They walked with their hands intertwined to the library after Y/N had bumped into him in the hallway. It was natural as they stepped into the library and headed straight to their table in the corner hidden away by two tall bookshelves. 

Y/N placed her bag under the chair whilst Harry unzipped his to pull out the book they were currently reading. It was Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte, even looking at the front cover made Y/N’s stomach turn. 

“A-Are you sure we can’t go back to YA books?” Y/N huffed, taking the book and opening it up to the chapter they were last on. 

Harry laughed, “But you’re doing so well, Dovey.” 

“I-it’s hard though and the w-words are so tiny.” She pouts, Harry can’t help but lean forward and kiss her. 

“C’mon, jus’ a few pages and then I can show y’ something I got for you.” He tried to persuade her, knowing the surprise would be enough to win her over.

“Fine,” She sighs dramatically. 

She read for five pages, Harry listening intently to every word. His eyes focused on her lips as she spoke, stumbling over a few words here and there. He tried to hold back from smiling so much with how concentrated she was on each letter of every word. He thought it was adorable how her eyebrows creased and her hands gripped the book. 

Eventually, she had enough, placing the book down on the table and closing it shut. “Good job baby!” He cheered, pressing multiple kisses to her cheek, “M so proud of you.” 

Y/N giggled, “Thank you, Harry.” 

Harry smiled and reached into the pocket of his blazer for the surprise he had promised her. Y/N looked down and saw a small, black pouch in his hand. He gave it to her, her fingers carefully pulling on the ribbon before pulling out the small item inside. 

“It’s an anxiety ring,” Harry explained as she held the silver ring in the palm of her hand. He picked it up and slid it on his pinkie finger to show her, “Y’ can twist this band whenever you feel nervous, thought y’ could wear it on the day of your speech.” 

He passed it back to her, Y/N narrowing her eyes to look at the spinning band which had a small inscription written on it, ‘i love the way you speak almost as much as i love you, your harry.’ 

Y/N’s eyes watered, unable to come up with the right words to say how much she adored it as well as the boy sitting in front of her. Instead, she leapt forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, “Thank you,” She murmured, “I love it. I love you.” 

Harry softened even more from her embrace, “I love you more, Dove,” He whispered. 

Y/N pulled away enough to kiss his lips, she was thankful for the privacy they had in the back of the library since she was never that good with public displays of affection and all she wanted to do now was kiss him because she was so grateful for him being there all the time. 

It wasn’t long before the day of her presentation. After school, Y/N had been working on a short essay. She was going to speak to the class about her favourite comic books and why she loved them so much. She had recited the words out loud to herself and Harry and even her parents, that she could probably speak it off by heart. 

Harry and Y/N stood outside the school. Her English class wasn’t until the third period but she knew she wouldn’t be able to concentrate in her morning classes until the presentation was over. Harry was wearing his football uniform because he had a game against another school in the morning. Y/N had been with him after school as he practised for it, wearing his coat as she wrote out her speech on a notepad. 

They stood side by side facing the school building as if it was some kind of beast they had to tackle, “O-okay,” She huffed, “I can do this,” 

Harry looked down at her smiling and then reached for her hand, “You can do this,” He squeezed her fingers in encouragement. 

“Good l-luck with your game today,” She grinned, standing on her toes to kiss his cheek. 

“Thank you, baby,” He spoke softly, “Y’ can tell me all about your presentation and how well it went afterwards.”

“Okay Harry,” She nodded, completely determined despite how nervous she was. She had spent weeks preparing, she couldn’t let fear get the best of her. 

“Good luck kiss?” Harry grinned, cheekily. 

Y/N playfully rolled her eyes and craned her neck to kiss his lips. Harry held her face in his hands, unable to pull away from her even when she tried to, “I love you,” He murmured against her lips.

“I love you too.” She sighed, blissfully. 

When third period came around, Y/N stood outside her English classroom, counting to five in her head. She clutched onto the piece of paper where her speech was written out in gelled ink, spinning the ring Harry had gifted her on her finger. With a deep breath, she opened the door and stepped foot into her classroom. 

. . .

Harry could hardly concentrate during the football match but he was trying his best. His team were two points ahead and it wouldn’t be long before the game was over. Since it was the morning and the game was mostly practice for the two schools competing, there wasn’t a huge audience watching them. 

He was glancing down at his watch every few minutes when he was supposed to have his eye on the ball, checking to see whether third period was about to start. All he could think about was his little dove and how nervous she was when they stepped into school this morning. 

She had been working so hard on reading things out, even stopping in shops when they went to town together to read the labels on the backs of food containers. He fully believed in her and her ability to speak in front of the class even when she didn’t and it killed him not being able to watch her do it. 

So when the whistle finally blew marking the end of the game, Harry ignored the celebrations with his team after they won the match and ran across the field through the entrance of the school. He raced up the steps, his football boots clicking against the crowd. He knew he probably didn’t smell the best and his knees were muddy from falling over but he didn’t have much time to think about it as he searched for Y/N’s English classroom. 

“Y/N?” He heard the teacher’s voice call her name as he approached. 

“A-Already? O-Oh, O-okay.” He could hear her nerves just by listening to her speak. 

Harry was about to knock on the door but he hesitated, wondering if it would worsen her nerves if he was in the classroom watching her. He knew how much of a big deal this moment was for Y/N and he didn’t want to intervene or make a spectacle of the moment especially since he wasn’t in her class. 

He lowered his hand and instead pressed his ear up to the door. 

“H-Hello,” Y/N started, “My name is Y-Y/N and today I will be sharing with you m-my love for comic books,” Harry’s heart ached as her voice came out quietly. 

“C’mon Dove,” He whispered, wanting her to do well. 

Y/N cleared her throat and let out a shaky exhale, “A-As you can probably tell, I-I am not all that good at speaking. I s-stumble over letters and sometimes even have to replace words with o-others because my mouth t-turns into mash potato and I can’t seem to get t-the words out.” People chuckled and Harry’s heart began to beat against his chest, “T-That is why I love comic books so much because of the l-lack of words. Instead, there are pictures,” Y/N continued, her voice gaining strength the more that she spoke, “T-They tell stories without the need for p-perfect sentences or flawless speech.” 

Y/N continued her speech and Harry spent the entire presentation with his ear pressed up against the door. He ignored the looks of teachers and other students walking past as a huge grin spread across his cheeks the more Y/N spoke in front of the class. 

By the time she had finished, it fell silent before the class responded with a round of applause, “Brilliant work, Y/N,” Her teacher said. 

Y/N felt like she was floating on a cloud as she left her English classroom. Even if her speech wasn’t perfect, she had done it and gotten through it all in one piece. As she stepped out, two arms snaked around her waist and lifted her off the ground, “Harry!” Y/N giggled as he spun her around.

“M so proud of you, Dove.” He kissed her softly, lowering her to the ground but refusing to move his hands from her waist. 

“I-I can’t believe I did it, Harry!” Y/N almost squealed. 

“Heard every word, y’ did so good, M so proud of you.” He rambled, unable to cease his admiration for her. 

“You heard?” Y/N’s eyebrows creased, her lips pouting slightly. 

“I ran here as fast as I could and stood outside to listen to you,” Harry explained, “Y did perfect, honestly, the best speech I’ve ever heard.”

“You really ran h-here to listen?” Y/N asked, still in disbelief.

“I did,” Harry smiled, “It was all I could think about when I was on the field.”

“Did you win?” Y/N asked. 

Harry pulled her flush against him, “You already know I did baby,” He smirked, kissing her. Y/N smiled against his lips.

“Let’s go out tonight,” Harry murmured, “To celebrate.”

“And do w-what?” Y/N wondered, even though the idea of spending any time with Harry was always her favourite. 

“Maybe go to the bowling alley and get dinner after,” He shrugs.

“O-oh and maybe we can stop at the comic book store on the way home!” Y/N said, excitedly. 

“Course m’love,” Harry’s smile widened the more she spoke, “We can do whatever you want as long as I get to hear you talk.” 

Y/N grinned broadly as Harry interlaced his hands with hers, feeling the cool metal of her ring against his skin. Together, they walked hand in hand down the hallway, Y/N unable to stop talking the entire time, while Harry hung onto her every word.

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