#supportive bed

[maudiemoods]

If life is a never ending loop of dirty dishes and laundry then that means life is a never ending loop of home cooked meals and comfy clean clothes

[evyltalks]

happy pride month!! here’s a little treat 🤍

[foxika]

he's been trying to switch to space linux since his posting

[biscuitdolly]

౨ৎ ⁺ . my bedroom cleaning formula .ᐟ 🎀

📧 -> to get me motivated before cleaning, i like to imagine that I've invited a really hot person to my house and they're going to see my room. works like a charm.

this is a guide for people who struggle to get motivated when cleaning their room, or for people with ADHD like me who get side-tracked and easily bored!!

step O1 -> clean up any dishes 𝜗𝜚

you don't have to wash them right now, just get them out of your room!

step O2 -> throw out any visible food-related trash 𝜗𝜚

food packets, scraps etc.

step O3 -> pick up and put away anything red 𝜗𝜚

i get bored easily when cleaning, so i like to split things up by picking up colour-coded things too! this has helped me the most when keeping a tidy space.

step O4 -> throw away any makeup related trash 𝜗𝜚

make up wipes, q tips, makeup packaging, etc

step O5 -> pick up any makeup products 𝜗𝜚

put them back on your dresser / wherever you store them!

step O6 -> pick up anything orange 𝜗𝜚

step O7 -> pick up any paper, cardboard, etc 𝜗𝜚

loose sheets of paper, cardboard packaging, etc. put it in the recycling!

step O8 -> pick up any dirty washing 𝜗𝜚

you don't have to wash them right now, just put them in the washing basket!

step O9 -> pick up anything yellow 𝜗𝜚

step 1O -> pick up and put away any clean clothes 𝜗𝜚

make sure to fold them !!

step 11 -> pick up any craft materials / stationary 𝜗𝜚

pens, pencils, erasers, markers, etc

step 12 -> pick up anything green 𝜗𝜚

step 13 -> pick up any accessories 𝜗𝜚

jewelry, hair accessories, hats, scarves, etc

step 14 -> put away anything beauty related 𝜗𝜚

skincare, nail polish, hair brushes, perfume, etc

step 15 -> pick up anything blue or purple 𝜗𝜚

step 16 -> make your bed! 𝜗𝜚

a clean bed is a literal game changer. makes your whole room suddenly look neater.

step 17 -> put away any entertainment 𝜗𝜚

books, cds, toys, games, etc

step 18 -> pick up anything pink 𝜗𝜚

step 19 -> pick up anything monotone 𝜗𝜚

white, grey, and black !

step 2O -> rearrange things! 𝜗𝜚

neaten up your bookshelf, dressing table, desk, wardrobe, etc

Now you're basically done! things should (hopefully) seem a lot less stressful now that everything's where it should be. 🫧🧁

the last step is just to vacuum, dust, and wipe down any surfaces!

[midnight-soulless-system]

Sometimes being disabled means you can't go to college, can't get a job, have to live with your parents and that's ok. For a lot of us it means not being able to go outside most days, not being able to get up or move at all. It can mean needing someone to wash us or feed us or help us with the bathroom and that is ok. It doesn't mean that we're less than or that we aren't worth anything.

And it's valid for us to be mad about it. Even if we can overcome some of these things with accomodations we're allowed to be mad that we're in this situation, and wish that we weren't disabled because I sure as hell hate this shit.

[8irdies]

best friend puppy!

[pinkhairswagtourney]

help a disabled nonbinary lesbian get their life back together

hi everyone. i'm shroom and you've probably seen my posts before. my life is still a shitshow and nothing is coming together like it should. can't find a job, can't save up for a car, can't save up to escape this abusive household. bare necessities like food and medication and doctor's appointments take every last cent that i have. i'm also dealing with c0vid right now and it's kicking my ass completely; i've spent the better part of the last two weeks laying in my bed. i can't even complete commissions my energy is so low.

please help me. i'm hungry, and i'm tired, and i can't do this on my own. i don't have IRLs to help me like most people do. please send a few dollars my way or spread this post or commission me, anything so that i can move forward instead of sitting still and rotting away

commissions post p-yp-l c-sh-pp k-fi

[eatsurspleen]

everyday i get jealous of those people who write essays analyzing, picking apart, and overall appreciating their favorite character's dynamic with another, the character's personality, or backstory cause im usually left like this when i think about Marcille for too long

[scramratz]

If I don't get top surgery within the next 42 months I'm gonna kill myself

[tea-cat-arts]

Shen Yuan getting transported into pidw isn't "the system punishing him for being a lazy internet hater," but instead representative of "step 1 of the creative process: getting so mad at something you decide to go write your own fucking book" in this essay I will

[avocado62524]

[itsalliny0urhead]

Faster Than Fevers (Barry Allen x Reader)

You’re sick. Feverish. Miserable. Barry Allen is the most attentive boyfriend in existence.

barry allen x reader

You knew you were sick when Barry stopped teasing you.

No smug remarks. No playful eyebrows. Just soft eyes and the gentlest hands imaginable tucking you into bed like you might dissolve if he moved too fast.

Which was ironic, really.

Because Barry Allen always moved fast.

But not with you.

Not when you were like this—pale, weak, sweating through your pajamas and shivering under three blankets. Not when you could barely lift your head without groaning.

Not when he was scared.

He didn’t say it, of course.

He never did. Not the way most people would.

But you’d been together long enough to know what fear looked like on Barry Allen.

It wasn’t panic. It was quiet.

It was the way he slowed his steps when he walked into your bedroom. The way he held your tea like it was something fragile. The way he’d pressed a hand to your forehead and murmured, “You’re burning up,” and then didn’t let go for five whole minutes.

The way he never left your side without promising, “I’ll be right back.”

Like you’d slip away while he wasn’t looking.

You’re half-asleep when he comes back this time—arms full, hair windblown, still dressed in sweats and a hoodie that definitely wasn’t his when you fell asleep (Cisco’s? Maybe? You’re too feverish to care).

He sets a tray down on your nightstand, all soft clinks and quiet care. You blink up at him, dazed.

“Soup,” he says gently. “Tea. Ginger chews. Two kinds of cough drops. And—” he leans closer, grinning, “a new thermometer. Because I know the old one lies to me.”

You huff a tired laugh. “You bought a new thermometer?”

He shrugs, clearly unrepentant. “I may have stolen it from STAR Labs.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m in love,” he replies, kneeling beside the bed. “It’s a terminal condition.”

You roll your eyes, but your heart squeezes.

Barry reaches up, brushing his knuckles along your cheek. You lean into his touch instinctively.

“How’s the fever?”

“Still awful.”

He hums, reading your face. “Headache?”

You nod.

“Sore throat?”

You nod again.

He kisses your forehead softly, then mumbles, “Don’t move.”

Before you can ask why, he’s gone.

Gone-gone. Speedster blur gone.

You blink. He’s back three seconds later holding—

“A cool rag,” he says proudly, tucking it behind your neck like he’s just performed a miracle. “Dampened to exactly 74°F.”

You squint at him.

“I used my watch,” he explains.

You sigh. “You’re gonna set the bar so high for other men it’s gonna mess with the timeline.”

He smirks. “Good. Let them fear me.”

You open your mouth to tease him again but dissolve into a coughing fit. It racks through your chest, makes your eyes water. Barry’s there instantly, hand rubbing slow, soothing circles between your shoulder blades, whispering the whole time:

“I’ve got you. Breathe. I’ve got you.”

And when you finally go still, exhausted and slumped against him, he whispers something even softer.

“I hate seeing you like this.”

You rest your cheek against his collarbone. “I hate feeling like this.”

“I know.”

His arms stay wrapped around you as you drift again, body warm but safe, heart fluttering slow under the press of his.

Barry sits behind you in bed, legs on either side of yours, your blanket-swaddled body resting against his chest like a human marshmallow. You’re tired, overheated, and grumpy, but he’s determined to get you to eat something before you pass out again.

So now? He’s got a spoon in one hand and your hair tucked behind your ear with the other.

“C’mon,” he coaxes gently, bringing the spoon to your lips. “Just one more bite.”

You groan. “No more. I’m a sick little sack of soup now. I’m done.”

“You’ve had, like, six spoonfuls.”

“Which is, like, five more than I wanted.”

He chuckles softly, pressing his nose into your hair. “You’re dramatic.”

“Says the man who sped across town for three brands of cough drops.”

He shrugs. “Your suffering makes me reckless.”

You laugh—quietly. It hurts your throat. But it’s real.

Once he’s finally convinced you to sip some tea, he sets everything aside and settles in again. His arms wrap around you automatically, blanket and all, his hands rubbing lazy circles over your ribs through the fabric.

“Feel a little better?” he asks.

You nod against his shoulder. “Warm. Full. Safe.”

He presses a kiss to the side of your head.

“That’s kinda my whole brand.”

You don’t mean to fall asleep.

You just sort of drift.

Your head tucked under his chin. His hands never leaving you. The sound of his heartbeat steady in your ear, rhythmic and grounding.

And in that hazy, half-conscious space between dreaming and waking, you murmur:

“I think I wanna marry you.”

It’s soft. So soft you almost don’t hear it yourself.

But Barry goes still.

You’re too far gone to notice—eyes closed, breath even, fever making the world heavy and slow.

But he hears it.

He feels it.

And god, he’s never been so in love with anything in his life.

He holds you a little tighter. Presses a kiss to your temple. And whispers, almost inaudibly:

“Yeah, babe. I think I wanna marry you too.”

[blakbonnet]

the thing is that i know something like this going to make fandom a meaner place to be in for a while. we'll be a bit suspicious of our poc friends and start wondering who else is lying and question the line between what constitutes "internet privacy" and what doesn't. while i can absolutely implore people not to do that (please!) to the people of colour they love, i know it's easier said than done, because a bunch of you were very close to atticus, some of you even had your fics sensitivity read by him, you donated money, you shared joys. i'm sure he was nice in return too and made you feel better when you were down.

i want you to remember that 99.99% of the people you meet are not lying to you about who they are at their core. most people are sane, and they don't go around stealing fics of friends and other authors, they don't go around pretending to be black, they don't go around using their fake race to be as racist as possible in their fics.

so while it seems hard to believe rn when everyone is reeling, this guy was an exception and should be treated as such. it's just a reminder that well, there are awful people on the internet. but you remaining kind and taking someone on their word is not a personal failure. okay? so chin up.

[cometblaster2070]

do you think ariana grande has zero fear of saying and doing whatever the fuck she wants during the wicked press tour like about glinda being gay and in love with elphaba and all because she knows that literally nothing will come close to the bad press she gets by simply being with ethan slater so she just goes fuck it, GELPHIE IS CANON EVERYONE GLINDA IS A FUCKING LESBIAN AND SHE'S GAY FOR THE WITCH.

[the-fyre-flie]

I feel like people don't consider where the batkids sleep in the manor enough. Like in WFA, it's clear that Duke has his own room, which implies the other full-time Wayne kids do too, but I wanna like... see them more often. I wanna know what kinda of posters and decorations Jason had before he died. I wanna see if Damian ever actually settled into his room. I wanna see evidence on if Dick used to sleep with stuffed animals or not. I wanna know if Tim has a Conspiracy Theory Board on the wall of his room. I want to know more about these characters, including their sleeping habits and decoration preferences.