#from the vault (aka the drafts folder)

[thebeautifulfantastic]

y’know what. i actually think dana katherine scully might mean everything to me

#i rewatched beyond the sea today and boy i’m in my feels for her #she means a lot to me #dana scully #the x files #from the vault (aka the drafts folder) #update -- she still means everything to me #belle speaks

[thesokovianaccords]

8. After working for six hours straight + 6. “Do I love you? Yes. Do I like you? That’s still up for debate.” for Steggy please :)

8. After working for six(teen) hours straight + 6. “Do I love you? Yes. Do I like you? That’s still up for debate.” 

(Justine please let's forget that this has been in my drafts for almost two years...have a follow up to this ficlet where I slightly changed the prompt)

“If you’re not my Chinese takeaway, you can bugger right off.”

Steve huffed out a laugh, dropping the carrier bags on the desk with a flourish. “Good news - I intercepted the delivery guy in the lobby, so I am in fact your takeaway and also your ‘staying-in.’”

“You’re not as funny as you think you are, Rogers, but I’ll let it slide because you have my egg rolls in your very capable hands.”

“Thank you…I think.” Steve dropped the cartons filled with Peggy’s favourites in front of her and backed away slowly, as if she were a bomb that needed disarming. A fair comparison, as that was what they had spent their afternoon doing.

“You know, you have awful luck on the job—” Steve scoffed over Peggy’s assertion, an old argument between them, “but you have the best radar for good Chinese food that I’ve ever encountered. How on earth do you find these places, even in the depths of wherever we are today?”

Steve swiped a bite of fried rice, narrowly dodging a hangry Peggy’s lightning-quick chopstick assault. “We’re in Argentina, and what I have can’t be taught, Peg.” 

Her glare over the carton was undermined by the smirk tilting at the corner of her lips. “So you say. I can’t imagine you were taught any manners either.”

He falls back in his chair, clutching his chest dramatically. “Direct hit, Peg, ouch. And after I disarmed a bomb for you and brought you Szechuan beef.”

“While I disarmed three others,” she huffed, tossing a piece of the aforementioned beef in her mouth. 

“Oh, I’m sorry - next time I won’t hack into the network to get those files we were there for in the first place.”

Peggy tossed a soy sauce packet at Steve’s face, snickering to herself as he catches it on his nose like a seal. “You’re incorrigible.”

“Only ‘cause you incorrige me.” Sixteen hours on the job for the fourth day in the row and he still hadn’t run out of quips.

“Steve.”

“You know you love me. Imagine how boring your missions would be if you were still working solo.”

“Do I love you? Yes. Do I like you? That’s still up for debate.” She pointed her chopsticks at him menacingly. “You’re on thin ice.” But rather than banter back, as he always did, as she could count on him to do, he just stared, his cheekbones staining a darker and darker pink by the second.

The silence was starting to become awkward now, and Peggy wracked her brain to try and figure out what she’d said that had set Steve so off-kilter. But before she could complete the thought, she was falling backward onto the couch, her carton of hard-earned spicy beef flying away without a care as Steve’s arms bracketed her head and his hips pinned hers to the cushions. 

His thumb swept over her brow tenderly as he stared down at her, his own furrowed in thought. “Did you mean it?”

Peggy gaped at him. “Mean what?” And then it hit her. “Oh—well, yes of course I did. I don’t just go around saying things I don’t mean, now do I?”

Their intimate position did nothing to stop Steve’s ironic smirk. “Peggy, you’re a spy. Of course you do.”

She jutted her chin out in defiance. “Haven’t you been listening, Steve? I’ve been telling you the truth for years. Why do you think we always have such bad luck—”

Steve cut her off, but Peggy had no inclination to complain. After all, things with Steve were finally according to plan. 

#steggy #steggy fic #steggy au #beautifulwhensarcastic #from the vault (aka the drafts folder) #anyway steve and peggy roast each other mercilessly that's how they show love send tweet #in any universe - including one where they're CIA and MI6 and have terrible luck on missions #surprise?

[space-writes]

seeing you post about obsidian is making me curious about it. What plugins do you recommend for it? Also, how do you organize your vaults? I'm very intrigued by it, but idk if it's worth switching all my information over for the 3rd or 4th time...

hi anon!

i've actually got a rough draft of a plugins rec post in the works, but off the top of my head some of my favourites are:

dataview for the ability to pull information from metadata and create auto lists/tables

hover editor for being able to have 'hovering' popups, thus adding to the amount of windows and tabs you can have open at any one time to edit in

omnisearch is my fave replacement for core search, since it searches better through your files

outliner if you like making lists and want to be able to reorganise them quickly

smart typography changes quotes to curly quotes, dashes to em dashes and periods to ellipses

tag wrangler if you're using tags for organisation (makes it easy to edit them)

workspaces plus + Advanced URI for setting up multiple workspaces for different projects and ease of switching between them. this is my gamechanger, this is how i run all my obsidian. workspaces are king

as for vault organisation - it's really really down to how you best deal with information. I use folders for categories, and then i use what a lot of obsidian folks would call 'too many' folders to subcategorise.

cut for length & screenshots:

my main vault categories look like this:

'meta' is where images, technical info, templates and stuff go, and i have a folder like that in all three of my vaults (main, Valloroth, and D&D)

then i have larger buckets for areas of my life, and everything goes in a bucket, unless i don't know what i'm doing with it, then it goes in Primordial Ooze (and gets ignored until i remember that folder exists TT_TT)

the Valloroth (aka renegade prince) vault looks like this:

(the numbers are from the novel wordcount plugin, which puts total wordcount next to files and folders. i'm test driving it, not sure how much i like it yet)

so again, my main strategy is to have the largest possible 'bucket' as a top level folder, and then subcategorise within that. so for example, in 'world' I have this:

I based my categories on similar ones I was using in a different worldbuilding app, but I've seen people do varying ways of managing it.

really there are as many ways to organise as there are people. Some obsidian folk use no folders, and just link everything, some people use systems like PARA, or Zettelkasten, or Linking Your Thinking, or mish-mashes of multiple things. Mine is a bastardised take on Johnny Decimal, that i've made work for me, and use across vaults and also to organise my non-obsidian files.

i was also moving my notes for the umpteenth time when I switched, and the main things that sold me are really all the things I listed in my post. the thing of it is, if you move and you don't like it, all your notes are in plaintext. easy to extract, and access, and (depending on program) move to somewhere else.

obsidian does have a bit of a learning curve, not gonna lie. but every friend i've convinced to try it has been delighted by what they can do with it. i'd recommend trawling through the discord and youtube communties, and the resources on the hub. make a test vault, put a little bit of info in it to play with. don't try and do everything at once - take it in pieces or it gets overwhelming.

i hope this was helpful! feel free to ask for clarification or ask more questions, i am (as is evident) always down to talk about obsidian.

#obsidian md #obsidian.md #writeblr #it really depends how your brain works #the idea with mine is that everything should have one obvious place where it goes #so i'm never sitting with a piece of information going 'what do i do with this'

[hanrinz]

— TUMBLR USER FALLESSUN AKA ROSIE AKA MY DRAFTS FOLDER AKA MY VIP AKA THE ONLY TUMBLR USER EVER TO ME <333

greetings :3

tumblr user yuquinzel aka hana aka my vip..(hey i was first🤨) my crazy ideas holder aka the only person who has the keys to my vault :> i highly doubt that i'm the only one,, don't lie hana😒

but omg so sorry i took so long to reply to this :// i was in jail (someone was keeping me away from tumblr</3) anyways !! hellooooo i'm back & you still haven't added me on hsr D: ADD ME !!

#◝(ᵔ◦ᵔ)◜mail! #ੈ♡‧₊˚moots : hana #i totally didn't forget to log in or anything !!!!!

[thebeautifulfantastic]

i will actually never get enough of Peggy Carter as the Winter Soldier AU fics. idk man, something about that concept in all its variations really scratches my brain

#from the vault (aka the drafts folder) #that or fics where peggy is captured/recruited by hydra and we have a little exploration of ptsd/memory/double agent stuff #it all started with this one GORGEOUS fic called 'avalanche' by fyre that changed by life #it was so angsty and sad and good #so now i'm just obsessed with this concept #if i was fic writer i would make my own #peggy carter #belle speaks #inspo tag

[thebeautifulfantastic]

i really wish i could ask greta gerwig how she feels knowing that she has single-handedly caused mass outrage among conservatives by making a movie about a doll

#from the vault (aka the drafts folder) #wrote this back in july when ben shapiro was going nuts and burning the poor barbies #like. MY GUY. CHILL #your fragile masculinity is not being threatened by this movie i can assure you #greta is not coming for you and neither are the rest of the girlbosses #belle speaks #barbie #greta gerwig

[thebeautifulfantastic]

unfortunately ever since I started shipping mulder and scully I realized that no other m/f ships can even compare and now no fictional romance will ever be the same

#their angst levels are unparalleled #<- and this sentence still hold true even though i drafted this post a couple months ago #however! i've now realized that i can always WRITE my own fictional pairings for the film i want to make someday and make it super angsty #(i have a really good wip right now that is going to be amazing when it's done... someday) #and there are plenty of other good ships #but still. mulder and scully are the OG's of shipping #the word 'ship' was literally invented FOR them #msr #the x files #belle speaks #from the vault (aka the drafts folder) #fandom culture

[thebeautifulfantastic]

Monica Reyes, empath extraordinaire

#from the vault (aka the drafts folder) #that's it. that's the post #honestly it looks like i was originally going to say more but i can't for the life of me remember WHAT #so i'm just going to leave it at that because it's kind of amusing #belle speaks #monica reyes #the x files

[thebeautifulfantastic]

the feminine urge to get a pixie cut

#belle speaks #i just have this URGE #imagine how freeing a pixie cut would feel #from the vault (aka the drafts folder) #update from my present self -- i DID get the pixie cut and it WAS so freeing #best decision ever and i actually need to get it cut again soon

[thebeautifulfantastic]

taylor swift is such an enigma right now. like who even knows where she is at any given moment? ever since the release of folklore & evermore i just picture her living in a house out in the woods with joe but for all i know she could be in a mansion in the same fucking state as me

#from the vault (aka the drafts folder) #i wrote this probably around the time that midnights was about to release #plot twist: things are far less quiet and mysterious now #eras tour happened. breakup happened. matty healy happened. now travis kelce is happening #she's out and about!!! #belle speaks

[thebeautifulfantastic]

apparently i’m in my “be queer and flirt with girls” era and i'm not complaining about it

#from the vault (aka the drafts folder) #this era lasted roughly january 2023 through september 2023 #and then BOY. #however! i am ready to re-enter this era at any time #tbf i'm still in my 'be queer' era because bisexuality does not go away even if i'm into a guy right now (and he know i'm Very Queer) #belle speaks #bisexual tag #lgbtq #queer tag

[thesokovianaccords]

12 + 34 for Steggy for the 2 part drabble game?

(...let's not talk about how long ago you sent me this prompt lol)

12 - Finally home after a hard day / 34 - “It’s 2am. Go back to sleep.”

The Carter siblings were…a lot. If Steve had to pick a phrase to describe them, it would be—well, it would be pure chaos.

The most hyper-competent people he’s ever met. 

But, still. Pure chaos.

Steve didn’t actually regret moving in with the Carters after his old roommate decided to abandon him to live with her boyfriend. Most days. 

But Michael and Peggy—well, Steve had a pretty good command of the English language (despite what they might say) but words failed to describe them. No matter how hard he tried.

He told Sam that they’re maddening, and yet disarmingly charming. Bucky heard a story or two about Michael’s one-man war with the MTA, and Peggy’s many international misadventures—the context of which Steve was honestly afraid to examine too closely. Natasha actually heard one of Peggy’s terrifying non-anecdotes about the time she and a friend were trapped on a mostly-deserted Mediterranean island, and she had to play a high-stakes game of blackjack to secure their freedom (he desperately wanted to follow up but was very afraid she’d actually answer his questions). Tony knew a lot of their stories already because he was there, was an accessory, or heard about their exploits through the grapevine—the dubious benefits the Starks and the Carters running in the same social circles. 

Steve had been called to find Michael after he ran away to a farm in rural Virginia—Peggy had been her usual inscrutable, unflappable self, but Steve was a quick learner (and slightly obsessed with discovering all of Peggy’s tells, a fact he was ruthlessly suppressing). He had been ferried—by Tony and Pepper—across the Atlantic and Indian Oceans to bring Peggy her passport as she fled to the British Embassy in Hong Kong, with Michael calling him every hour on the hour until she had it, and Steve had her, safe in hand. Both of them would go silent for weeks at a time and then pop up again in their shared fifth-floor walk-up with no warning at 4:00am, hungry and loud and full of stories that were high on hijinks and low on details.

Steve was ninety percent sure that the whole Carter family was involved in some form of espionage, but he had just enough self preservation to never, ever ask for details. Even when his journalistic instincts screamed at him to dig deeper, he knew it was a bad idea to know more than the bare minimum.

Not that any of that stopped him from orbiting closer and closer to Peggy, much to her brother’s amusement. Steve couldn’t help himself—her glossy hair (voluminous with secrets, of course) and her lips painted red and her killer sense of humour and her absolute confidence in herself were a potent drug, intoxicating and addictive. 

Maybe it was pathetic, how he knew all her favorite foods and always had a bottle of her whiskey on hand—created specifically for her by a distillery in Scotland she’d saved from some convoluted extortion scheme. How he started studying French when he saw a plane ticket to Morocco on their dining room table—just in case she needed a bailout. How he woke up sweating and tense—from dreams about her laugh and her perfume and that one time she took swinging trapeze classes—in a way that was extremely inappropriate for him to be dreaming about his roommate (whose brother was also his roommate). 

But on the other hand, Steve wasn’t about to rock the boat. He was content to admire from up close and from afar, but always on the outside looking in. Peggy wasn’t complaining, but she also never said anything to signal her own interest—and she had become too important to Steve to consider stepping outside the boundaries they’d established. She and Michael both had. They were family—chaotic and dysfunctional family, but whose wasn’t, at the end of the day?

So, Steve stayed within this equilibrium—enjoying her presence when they were home, worrying after her and her brother when they weren’t. He was used to it, and even when he’d come to expect chaos, the Carters still managed to surprise him once in a while.

It was in the wee hours of the morning when Steve returned home from covering a gruelling all-night Security Council meeting, exhausted and overworked and ready to collapse on the nearest soft surface for the three hours he had before returning to the UN for the next day of the General Assembly meetings. The last thing he was expecting to see when he opened the front door was warm lighting flooding the kitchen, soft brass instrumentals flowing through the apartment, and Peggy in the midst of what could only be described as culinary carnage. 

“Steve, darling! Welcome home!”

His exhaustion bled out of his limbs at the sound of her voice—cheerful, excited to see him, her familiar accent washing over him like a sense of relief. He dropped his shoulder bag by the door, shocked to see her in the flesh after three weeks of increasingly cryptic text messages and memes lighting up his phone at odd hours. He mouthed her name, unable to force the sound from his throat, but it didn’t matter, as she tugged him to the kitchen island, chattering all the way about how she had missed him, she’d brought him a souvenir but he mustn’t ask about its origin, Michael was in the city but she wasn’t sure where, she’d been gifted this divine new chocolate chip cookie recipe that was going to blow his mind.

Steve followed along gamely—he forgot, when she was away, exactly how enticing Hurricane Peggy could be up close. She manoeuvred him onto a stool, dropping a plate in front of him that was stacked precariously high with cookies that, admittedly, looked delicious. He took a tentative bite and sighed with relief at the gooey centre and melted chocolate—her past baking experiments had not been as successful as this one.

“So, there I was, dangling off the bridge over the river—mind, I’d already secured myself with a rope and was waiting for someone to pull me back in, so I was making a shopping list for when I got back in today, and I stopped by the bodega on my way home because I know you with your sweet tooth, we probably wouldn’t have any chocolate chips left, and—“ Peggy trailed off, taking in the way Steve was already half-off the stool, drifting away as she prattled on. “Steve, dear lord. I forgot about the time difference. Here I am, nattering on, and you look like you’re about to collapse. It’s 2am. Go to sleep.”

He straightened, shaking his head. “No, that’s okay, Pegs. I’m listening. I’m not that tired. You were dangling off a bridge.”

She laughed and grabbed the cookie that was falling to pieces in his hand. “Darling, go to bed. You’re clearly knackered.”

He shook his head. Stubborn to a fault. She clasped his newly-empty hand in hers, mindless of the chocolate residue. “My darling, I’ll still be here in the morning, I promise. Go to bed—Peggy’s orders. You have a busy day ahead and I can’t have you at less than your best because of me.”

He eyed her carefully. “You promise?”

His eyes were drooping, his cheeks rosy with exhaustion, but his look of determination and suspicion made Peggy feel, finally, like she was home. There were worse things than to have such a man as her anchor, her port in a storm, calling her back. “Yes, Steve. I promise. You won’t be able to get rid of me. I’ll be skulking around the United Nations for a couple days—we can grab a drink, as long as you don’t ask for any details.”

He tossed her a wry look as he stood, and she couldn’t help but reel him in for a hug. “You know I missed you terribly, right?”

He nuzzled his nose into her hair for a brief moment, roses briefly overtaking his senses. “You were having far too much fun for that.”

She smacked him on his back, playfully. “I never have half as much fun as when I’m with you. I’ll just have to drag you along with me next time—it’ll be the best of both worlds. Now, off to bed with you.”

He squeezed her tightly, then stepped back. “Welcome home, Peggy. I’m glad you’re here.” And with an irreverent salute, he vanished into his bedroom. Peggy turned back to the mess she’d made of the kitchen with a critical eye. The pastry chef behind the recipe had promised Peggy that these cookies were magic, capable of turning a man to mush, but clearly she’d forgotten an ingredient or two.

#steggy #steggy fic #steggy au #theawkwardterrier #surprise? #this is so old I dont even know where to find the prompt list lmaoooo #anyway this was originally going to be something much different but I sort of got it in my head #that if peggy and Michael had been reunited they would have been pure chaos #and I just rewatched schitts creek and then I was like...oh my god the two of them as David and Alexis?? gold #so...this happened #have peggy as an international woman of mystery and Steve holding her stuff as she storms an embassy #he's great at being an accessory to incomprehensible schemes #idk what this even is but hopefully its at least fun! #also I wrote this in like a stream of consciousness burst of inspiration so apologies if it’s nonsense ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ #from the vault (aka the drafts folder)

[thebeautifulfantastic]

i really need to find a new hobby that doesn't involve writing or speaking or singing or reading so that i can actually listen to all the podcast episodes i have saved on spotify so i'm considering going back to drawing... but when the fuck will i ever have time for that?

#i SO busy it's insane #but okay. at my part time job i listen to podcasts a lot #i'll just have one earbud in when there are no customers around and i'm just cleaning and i get my podcast fix that way #or if i'm organizing stuff at home or cooking #i would just like to have a consistent FUN thing that i can do where i listen to podcasts #because i'm a visual learner and i have adhd so if i just sit down and do nothing while listening to podcasts #i will NOT be able to pay attention #i have to be busy with something else so my brain can be stimulated enough to follow along with what they're saying #and i have so many good podcasts saved on spotify #ahh well i'll figure it out eventually #i'm not a GREAT artist but i was pretty good at certain things (namely horses) #and it would be cool to be able to draw again and maybe make some fanart #someday i swear i will get back to it because those were good time #belle speaks #from the vault (aka the drafts folder)

[thebeautifulfantastic]

hot take but maybe we all connect to fictional characters in different ways and that’s why we all have different favorites and maybe we should acknowledge that it's valid

#from the vault (aka the drafts folder) #i don't remember what fandom i originally wrote this about but it's pretty applicable to anything #my biggest gripe with fandom is the way a lot of people are very black and white about things #because we really do need to allow space for people to connect with media in their own unique ways #that doesn't mean we can't critique it objectively and acknowledge that bad content and good content exist #but there's always going to be a degree of subjectivity in analyzing art because we all come to it with a wealth of personal experiences #that definitely affect how we connect with the subject matter and the characters #belle speaks #about fandom #storytelling

[thebeautifulfantastic]

Y’ALL I THINK I JUST WROTE MY BEST SONG SO FAR

#from the vault (aka the drafts folder) #i'm chortling at this draft rn #like why did i never post this?? #i'm not totally sure what song i was referring to but i do have an idea and yes it is still one of my best songs #belle speaks

[thebeautifulfantastic]

a goal for myself this year is to be sillier

#from the vault (aka the drafts folder) #like yeah man!! i'm a little goofy and i want to express that side of me a more unabashedly in my everyday life #i feel like i've spent so long trying to come across as professional and mature that it's easy to default to acting serious #and i AM professional and serious. but also silly. they're not mutually exclusive #i want to be less afraid of looking stupid and being made fun of #and start having more of a 'fuck it this is FUN' attitude #i find a lot of humor in life so why not be unabashedly silly about it? #just because i didn't grow up being the class clown doesn't mean i am not actually a bit of a clown at heart #belle speaks #note to self