#found tons of them in a box

[rubydoobles]

doodled on some cassette tapes :)

[nostalgicfun]

Grand Champions Micro Minis 💙

[kurozu501]

had a lot of fun at day 1 of our yearly anime con here but DANG did i forget how tiring cons can be. im gonna be exhausted by sunday night but im having a great time.

[cryptic-forge]

it's natural materials o'clock again & i made a stone golem.

a while ago, my partner's mother was moving and getting rid of some things, including a collection of rocks. i love a good rock, and when presented with a large wooden box of them, wanted to make a creature. i flirted with the idea of making something a little less stoney and a little more posable, but ended up deciding on this non-articulated sculpture. it has a metal wire skeleton, some tinfoil padding, and then just A Ton Of Rocks glued onto the frame. the face is a lake rock i found and painted some years ago, but didn't end up doing anything with until now.

[bunny-jpeg]

sibling situation

simon 'ghost' riley

cw: smut & plot, mactavish!reader, size kink/difference, missionary sex, unprotected sex, marriage & babies (at the end), romance, simon's found family

this rabbit runs on reblogs & comments! feed the rabbit!

simon knew that johnny had a sister. you had been brought up in conversation tons of times. after the death of your parents, you and johnny were really all each other had. but johnny left for the military right before turning eighteen and you struggled to put yourself through university. it wasn't the easiest life and simon could understand, he had his own scars of his childhood.

"so, why are you dragging me out here again, johnny?"

"get ya out of that shoe box flat. got a little more leg room where i am."

johnny had driven the car all the way to edinburgh with a promise that a little time away would do wonders for the other man. simon had his ear talked off about how london was just too big, and while edinburgh was a city. it would be a break from the intense metropolitan of london. if need be the two of them and you could go on a getaway to the countryside.

"this better be good, johnny."

"ah, don't worry! i promise, you'll have the time of your life!" johnny reached over and slapped his friend on the back, "plus, you have to meet my sister."

the flat that you shared with johnny was well kept. of course it was, your brother was out most of the year with an automatic deposit for rent and when he was home, it was so ingrained with the military that things were kept tidy. and you on the other hand enjoyed tidiness as well.

even if cleaning the place in his absence felt a bit much sometimes, you still at least picked up your socks off the floor, put the clean dishes in the cupboard and washed out the carafe of the coffee maker. but you had worked over time to make sure everything was perfect, not for your brother (he could clean himself), but rather the mysterious guest that he was bringing.

you didn't want his lieutenant to think you lived like animals!

when the knock on the front door came, you happily welcomed them. your gaze was captured away from your grinning brother and rather the larger man beside him. he wore a black medical face mark, but you could see the tiredness in his eyes. the mop of blond hair and a slight scar over his eyebrow.

"oh, kid, this simon. simon riley, my lt." johnny smiled, patting his fellow solider on the arm.

you shot him a glance, "i'm almost thirty, johnny. i'm far from a kid." you were a bite fiery, simon liked that.

johnny beamed back at you, "but you'll always be my little sister. gotten into trouble while i was gone?"

you let both men in and replied, "well except for yelling at those stupid kids from the secondary school about smoking in front of my window. nothing else really happened."

johnny dropped his bags on the hardwood floor and kicked off his boots. he put them correctly by the door before he stretched his arms over his head, "where's that guy you were seein'. teddy or somethin'?"

simon stood a little straighter. of course you had a boyfriend, look at you!

you waved your hand, "oh, he's long gone. i guess cousin nikki's words are true." you looked at your brother, "never date a man in finance. turns out he had more than one bonnie in his pocket."

johnny dropped his shoulders and remarked, "never liked the guy anyway. seemed a little uptight, would never survive a gathering of the mactavish's." he laughed.

simon felt odd in the space. seeing the siblings interacting. he thought of his own brother for a moment. instead he just followed suit and took off his heavy boots as well.

you looked at simon, "i hope it's okay that you take the couch. this place is only two bedrooms. the couch." you gestured to it, "does pull out so hopefully you'll have enough room. but, if you don't, tomorrow my lovely brother can give up his room."

"my room!" johnny replied loudly, "i've still got sand in my crack for the mission and you're givin' my room!"

you shot your brother a glance which johnny coward from. no words had to be said. johnny knew that it would be the right thing to do. after all, simon was his guest.

the afternoon went by slowly, and you and johnny moved through the small kitchen like a team. johnny was good at dicing and you were good at keeping an eye on the sauteeing vegetables.

"simon." you said which made simon look up from his spot at the small dining table. your eyes met and you pushed some hair out of your face, "two things. one, there should be a headband on the table it's soft and used for make-up. i need to get this hair out of my eyes. secondly, johnny never said that you had any dietary issues. is there anything i should avoid? i just sort of got our normal grocery order."

simon perked a little bit more, "oh i don't have any allergies or anything, ma'am." he gave a small nod, "i could eat anythin'."

you nodded, "okay, excellent!"

the blond found in endearing. it was almost hypnotic watching you put together the vegetables with the hearty pasta sauce. you worked a stove top like no other. the only problem was that your brother kept getting in the way of his sight of you.

been a while since a woman cooked him a meal.

simon got up quickly and gave you the headband. it was soft and pink colour with two sewn on cat ears made of the same material. you put it on and simon's heart skipped a beat. you were just so beautiful.

dinner of pasta, toasted buns and salad were served with a bottle of grocery store wine. the three of you drank, ate and chatted. you and johnny had most of the conversation while simon enjoyed listening.

he figured out that he could listen to you talk forever.

"well, i'm tired." johnny said as he rubbed his eyes. he finished the rest of his wine before he got up. he patted you on the top of the head, "i'll do the dishes in the mornin'. thanks for dinner, kid."

you rolled your eyes, pouring yourself another glass, "i'm not a kid."

johnny chuckled then looked to simon, "she'll get ya comfortable for the evenin'. i'll see ya tomorrow." before his tired steps headed towards the bedroom. soon the door closed and the sound of his body hitting the bed could be softly heard.

you leaned back in the kitchen chair, one leg draped over the other with your arms crossed. you admitted, "it must be hard to date. finding someone who understands your world."

simon stretched out a little more in his chair. he eyed the empty wine glass in front of him, "i try not to think about it so hard."

"i've heard stories about you. the terrifying ghost. there one moment, gone the next." you then reached across the table to drag a finger down the inside of simon's wrist, "i wonder if i had you in my bed tonight, if you'd be gone by morning."

your admission made simon's dark eyes grow a little wider. he said, "well, i have nowhere else to go."

you smiled a little, "must be lonely. i know it's lonely for me. to feel close to someone."

simon asked, "do you want to sleep with me miss mactavish?"

you chuckled lowly, as to not awake your brother in his room. you leaned back a little once more and gazed at him. you were definitely johnny's brother. the look in your eye said it all. you tilted your head a little to the side and asked, "is it that obvious, mister riley?"

the sound of wooden chairs against the floor as the two of you made your way to the bedroom. you took simon by his tattooed wrist and got him into your room. the door was shut a little louder than you hoped. you turned on the light and simon was already working the belt of his jeans.

you were quick to get your t-shirt off and you saw simon's hungry gaze on you as you became free of your clothes. his eyes raked the exposed skin and thought you looked like a dream.

"like what you see, simon?"

he nodded, "more beautiful than the photos, ma'am."

you covered your mouth while you giggled, "no need for the formalities. if my brother is underranked by you, then i'm sure as hell as a civilian."

simon got a hold of your waist, "you deserve a little more respect than your brother." then pulled you in for a soft kiss. even with his scars that you had seen over dinner. you thought he was beautiful.

it made you warm all over as you pulled the dark t-shirt on his shoulders. he helped you get out of it. and your hands pressed against his chest. you admired the scars, the tattoos, the overall beauty of him.

"i wish my brother had said his lt was hot prior. i would've tried to get with you sooner."

simon picked you up by the waist, your legs wrapped around his waist as he brought you to the bed and sat you down. he then started to work at the button of your jeans. once they were off, he cupped the bulge in his pants.

you slipped out of your simple purple panties and the white bra you wore. you then laid out on your bed with your hands behind your head and you giggled softly.

simon was absolutely smitten by you. he had come to the conclusion that when they were talking about the beauties in scotland. they meant you. and only you. once you were both naked, he got onto the bed.

the bed was a bit smaller than he had hoped, but you two could fit into it thankfully. he was worried that his large, bulkier frame would inch you off of the mattress. but it was a lot easier when he got between your legs. his achy erection, bright red at the tip, begged for attention.

you swallowed a little, "i wonder if it'll fit."

"then you tell me if it does. got it? you mactavish's have a habit of not showing pain." simon gave you a pointed gaze.

you covered your face for a minute, "okay. talk about my brother ends here. i don't want to hear about him while you're balls deep inside of me."

simon chuckled lightly and leaned in for another kiss. he said softly, close to your lips, "if it's anything, love. you're much more a looker than he is."

you held onto his blond locks and pulled him in for a hot kiss. you made a small noise when he shifted your hips up against him. to get a better angle of his cock inside of you.

"simon."

he said softly, his voice still gravely, "beautiful, beautiful girl. i don't know what that last boyfriend of yours was thinkin'. why want another when he could have you. but, i guess that means more for me."

your cheeks grew hot and simon pressed his cock up against you wet slit. you felt your heartbeat race at the anticipation of what was to come. you tensed up at the feeling of his cock being pushed into it.

"i got ya, i got ya. you feel so good there, love."

you nodded, "it's been a while. sorry if i'm too.. tight."

simon loomed over you like a comforting shadow. he gazed down at you, but there was a softness to his tired eyes. you didn't realize how pretty his eyes were. a deep dark brown, that lured you in while in the soft lighting of your bedroom.

he started to move against you and you let out a small moan. the bed squeaked a little bit. thankfully the frame didn't hit the wall. you two had to be somewhat quiet. even if your brother could be heard snoring in the room next to yours.

the sex between you two was quick, but not rough. the idea of bruising such a beauty made simon feel disgusted. you were meant to be cherished. he wanted to know everything about you.

"you are quite handsome, simon."

"thank you, love." he said softly as he held onto your thighs and moved against you. even in missionary you looked beautiful. the slight bounce of your breasts in time with his movements. he wanted to kiss all your soft parts throughout his visit in your sweet home.

he could get used to a warm meal and a warm cunt to bury himself into every night. maybe johnny was right, staying with you was better than being in london.

maybe he could get used to scotland.

he knew he could fit easily into the chaos of the mactavish family. if he could handle johnny, then he could handle you. at least he could fuck one of you quiet.

you felt your heart hammering at the feeling of it all. your noises were so sweet that it made simon need to bury himself deeper inside of you. he needed to feel all you could offer.

call him a sick puppy, but his brain was now wired to need you. you were a hit of a feeling that simon was so painfully unfamiliar with that it almost scared him. but as he admired the sight of you under him.

those soft lips partially opened, your eyes closed. you looked like an angel, and he swore he found heaven.

"beautiful." he said softly, his rugged voice made you feel like honey. gooey and warm, filling.

you came with your hands in his shaggy blond hair. your back arched as you felt the heat through you. you moaned a little louder than you hoped for as he continued to thrust up into you.

panting breaths between heavy thrusts as you laid spread out on the bed, letting simon move quicken his pace to reach his climax. he could feel it on the tip of his tongue. and with a few more heavy thrusts, he finished inside of you. his cheeks flushed and his mouth hung open in a heavy pant.

"fuck, simon."

"beautiful." he said absently. not able to think of much else besides your beauty. you were the kind of woman that simon was into.

he pulled out of you and rested down beside you on bed. you chuckled softly, your head still a little full of post orgasmic bliss. you got the covers on top of you and cuddled him naked.

clothed would be a worry in the morning.

when morning came, simon tried to slink back to the couch before johnny woke up. but when he exited your room and entered the main living space. he found johnny sitting there at the kitchen table. he was leaned back into his seat. simon caught sight of the pistol on the worn wooden table.

"so, si." johnny said, looking away from his paper to look at his fellow solider, "what are yer intentions with my sister?"

it had been a very long time since simon felt the stone of dread in his stomach. he tried not to show it across his scarred face. simon could instantly recall every military statistic that johnny had. there could be a million and one ways that the scottish solider could kill simon. and it wasn't like simon could do anything, he couldn't kill your brother.

there was a brief moment of silence between the two of them. neither made a motion or noise. simon wondered what was to come next. no amount of training could've prepared him for this.

but johnny broke the silence with laughter, "i'm just messin' with ya! the gun's not even loaded. just wanted to scare ya." he leaned forward in his seat. he looked at simon, "i don't care how my sister sees, but i have to be a little bit intimidating, don't ya think so, si?"

simon chuckled nervously.

johnny's suddenly expression dropped and he put down his paper in favour of the unloaded pistol. he pointed the front of it to simon, one eye closed as if he was going to shoot the blond in front of him. he said, "but if you break her heart there, simon. i won't be so forgiving."

the doorway to your bedroom opened with a loud creak and your voice rang through the apartment the three of you were in, "I swear to god! john michael mactavish! you better not be intimidating him!"

-

"you're seriously crying?" you asked your brother as you watched him gently take a hold of your newborn. your brother was a military man for christ's sake. he was weeping like a baby.

simon loomed over his colleague, protective over his newborn. his stern brown gaze read simply, "don't fuck it up, soap." he was ready to jump in if johnny fucked it up.

you were resting back in the hospital room, you just had your child with simon. you two had been married for a little over three years. it became habit for simon to come with johnny post-missions. the drive up to the city and you waiting for them.

a hug for your brother, a kiss for your lover.

now you were watching your brother cry at the sight of his nephew. the chubby little boy bundled up in a blanket. unaware of his weepy uncle. you looked at him with a slightyl stunned expression.

you probably cried less when you finally pushed him out. you didn't want to tell him the news because you thought he was going to cry more. while your son's first name was oliver, his middle name was john. after the crying mactavish in the hospital room.

"he really takes after us." john remarked when his cries died down.

you chuckled, "he sure does, johnny. now hand him over before you drop him." <3

[formulaonecrumbs]

https://www.tumblr.com/formulaonecrumbs/781576571110801408/little-bean

omg you have to continue more of this!!

maybe she is the second oldest and she loves all her siblings but lando has always been her been and just more growing up where she is landos favorite like he clings to her the most

just another one of the gazillion ♾️

Lando Norris x older sister!reader x norris!siblings

summary: a chaotic day at home with the norris’

warnings: they’re silly and cutesy

A/N: i’ve been feeling SO nostalgic recently and i just wish i had a fuck ton of home videos of me and my sibling, cousins, friends. all of them. also i wanna be apart of the norris family BYE. enjooyyyyy 🫶🫶

༻ ❤︎︎ ༺

home film #6 (out of a gazillion) – found in a cardboard box labelled ‘memories’

(recorded: norris family home, living room, bristol)

timestamp: 3:42 pm 10-04-2010

the film starts slow, steady. there’s the soft hum of the camcorder kicking in, followed by the warm, familiar voice of cisca behind the camera.

“okay, everyone say hiiii to future us.”

the shot settles on the living room—bathed in golden sunlight. it’s one of those quiet, easy spring afternoons. the windows are open. the curtains flutter. everything feels soft and lived-in.

ollie (16) is cross-legged on the rug, building some sort of ambitious blanket fort with couch cushions and old bedsheets. flo (8) is handing him pegs and trying to direct him like a tiny, very bossy architect.

you (14) are settled nearby with lando (soon to be 11) practically stuck to your side. he’s got his chin resting on your shoulder while you braid little bits of his hair with playful concentration.

“mum, are you filming this?” you asks, not looking up. “i swear if you’re zooming in on my face—“

“i’m just catching the moment,” cisca says calmly. “this is what you’ll miss when you’re all grown up.”

lando grins at the camera but doesn’t move from where he’s leaning on you. he’s totally relaxed, like there’s nowhere else he’d ever want to be.

“we’re building a fort big enough for all of us,” ollie says, lifting a sheet like he’s presenting a masterpiece. “but only if some people stop kicking over the pegs.”

“i didn’t mean to,” cisca (5) says from somewhere offscreen, sounding deeply offended. a moment later, she toddles into frame with a stuffed bear in one hand and her curls flying everywhere. she plops herself down beside you and lando like it’s the most natural thing.

you glance over and gently smooth cisca’s hair with one hand, still braiding with the other.

“you’re next, love,” you says softly.

“what about me?” flo pipes up from across the room. “i want my hair done like yours too!”

“get in line,” lando says, leaning a little closer into your side, clearly not planning on giving up his spot.

“lando’s been attached to your hip all day,” ollie teases, a smile in his voice. “if you ever move out, we’ll have to peel him off the walls.”

you smile and say nothing, just keep braiding gently. lando doesn’t argue. he wraps an arm around your waist and closes his eyes for a second, like he could stay there forever.

“he used to cry every time she left the room,” cisca says fondly from behind the camera. “even when he was three.”

you laugh, low and warm. “you act like he’s stopped.”

lando lets out a soft, dramatic sigh. “you’re just comfy.”

“he means emotionally,” flo says with mock seriousness.

ollie bursts out laughing, tossing a pillow at her.

the camera cuts and starts recording again a few moments later: the fort is finally done. the camcorder pans across it slowly, catching everyone inside—you’re lying on your side with cisca curled up against your chest, flo giggling in a corner, ollie eating crisps like he built a whole castle, and lando curled under the blanket with just his head peeking out beside reader.

“what’s this fort called?” cisca asks from behind the lens.

“camp chaos,” flo says.

“fort norris,” you counter.

“lando-topia,” lando offers sleepily, eyes already starting to close.

you reach down and brush his hair back gently, fingers soft through the braid you made earlier.

“we’re not calling it that,” you whisper with a smile, and he just shrugs.

“we could...”

“we won’t.” ollie chimes in.

the camera lingers a little longer on the pile of siblings in the warm light. there’s quiet music playing in the background now—something soft, something old that cisca must’ve put on.

the fort, the kids, the comfort. it’s one of those afternoons that felt ordinary at the time—but somehow, it stayed.

oh, and mum was right.

this would be one of those things you miss when you’re all grown up.

fade to black.

THE END :>

[ms-demeanor]

Can you offer any advice for avoiding hoarding when part of the problem is that trying to deal with the clutter and garbage and dirt causes paralyzing anxiety? I want my house to be clean and cluttered because it's stuff I like, but instead it's full of trash and stuff that had a place but doesn't seem to fit back in it after being used.

I can absolutely offer advice about that.

Short TL;DR:

Select the room you want to clean and make a map of it.

Divide the room into small segments like "top of desk" or "cabinet under sink" or even "half of junk drawer." SMALL segments.

Designate bags "trash," "donate," and "consider later."

Schedule a time to work on cleaning each segment, don't just assume "i'll do it next week." Write down an assigned day for each area.

Go into your target area and sort things into those bags.

Optionally, create a bag for memento items to put into a specific memento box/book.

Take bags out of the space when they are full to make more room to work and to see progress.

Do the section for the day and stop. Don't get overwhelmed by a ton of stuff, stop when you've done what you planned for the day (unless you've got good momentum built up and continuing will energize you.)

Long TL;DR:

Go someplace where you are not looking at the mess. You want to draw a map of the room, but you do not want to be in the room. Work one room at a time.

Divide the area you want to clean into very small spaces. You aren't cleaning an entire desk, you are cleaning one drawer of a desk.

Take three containers with you for each section: one trash bag, one donation bag, and one bag of stuff to consider later.

Plan out time to work on the space. Don't say "I'll do the whole thing this weekend" or "I'll get to it after the holidays," sit down and write out a schedule. There's a version of this called 40 bags in 40 days that people do for lent (that was the version of this i first found and followed the first time i did it), but you could do it in ten days, or a hundred, just try to stick to working on each segment on the day it's scheduled.

In each space, keep the stuff that's obviously meant to go there in that space, so if you're cleaning a desk drawer and it has a stapler in it, the stapler can stay there but if the staples and paper clips and rubber bands are a mess put that stuff into the "consider later" bin. Same thing with papers; if you've got a bunch of papers and you may need to keep some and may need to trash some, put them in the "consider later"

THERE IS AN OPTIONAL BIN FOR PEOPLE WHO WANT TO HANG ON TO A MILLION MEMENTOS AND CONCERT TICKETS AND SUCH. I make them by getting gallon freezer bags and filling them up with business cards and concert programs and scraps of wrapping paper and birthday cards. This isn't quite "consider later" because it's probably stuff you know you want to keep, this is "I don't have a home for this thing right now but it's not trash" so this is a temporary home for that category.

Remove stuff from the space as you work. As you fill up a bag of trash or consider later or donate, take it out of the space so you aren't looking at it and you can see the progress you're making on the space.

Do each section as you come to it on your schedule and then call it quits. If you cleaned out the counter next to the sink and that was your area for the day, you don't have to worry about the area under the sink unless you have the energy and enthusiasm for it.

Philosophical musing about why this works

The reason this kind of plan works (for me) is by pre-managing several things. You know you're working with a limited area, you know what you're going to do with the stuff you find in that area (put it in one of your bags or leave it where it is if it belongs in that area), you're working on a limited time so this can't stretch out forever it's just a little chunk, you're thinking about the space as you build your plan so you're visualizing the anxiety inducing thing outside of the space that actually gives you the anxiety which hopefully allows you to detach slightly from the anxiety, and you're getting your steps lined up ahead of time so there's no muddle of "what do i do now, how do I get started" - you get started by grabbing your bags and you go to that day's scheduled section.

The whole thing is constructed to prevent you from getting overwhelmed.

I used to try to clean my room as a kid and I would find something that needed to get put away but I didn't know where it went so I'd spend a bunch of time trying to make a space for it and I'd end up getting lost in the weeds of imagining how I'd use the item and if the new place for it was accessible, and oh look at the items that I found in this other place where I was going to put this item and this method cuts off all of that. Where I am putting the item is in the bag, where it is going is the "consider later" pile and when I've cleared out most of the space I can consider where things go when I've gathered all the uncertain things into one place instead of continually unearthing them and disrupting the process of going through stuff.

What it means to Consider Later

The reason you're working room by room is because you should be isolating the consider later pile by room. If you're cleaning out the bedroom you may end up with stuff that belongs in the kitchen or the office, but you'll end up with a lot of stuff that belongs in the bedroom. When you've worked through all your segments, you can sort the consider later pile and now that you have all the objects together, you can consider whether some of them belong together in a space in the room.

For instance, when I first did this there were a lot of books that needed to go on bookshelves, but my bookshelves weren't accessible in the early parts of the process. So books from the floor and the bed and the nightstand went into the consider later pile and after the whole floor was clear and there was no trash on my desk and all the books I was donating had been pulled from my bookshelves, I was able to organize all of my books at once instead of stumbling across a book every four minutes and trying to shelve it.

That's what spawned the memento bags for me; there was a ton of stuff in my consider later bags that didn't precisely have a place but weren't trash and needed a place made for them. If I'd struggled to find where each item went as I cleaned it would have completely stalled me out.

I kept finding yarn as I went but I didn't have a dedicated yarn spot, so I just put yarn in the consider later pile and at the end I found a basket for it and put it on a shelf in the closet that had been cleared out when I'd donated old clothes. If I had tried to find a spot for the yarn before donating the clothes, I would have had to move it once the better spot opened up, so saving all the consider later stuff for later saved me from having to move stuff several times.

If you're in a small space or if you're living with people and you can't make a pile of stuff in another room for two weeks, at the very least remove the trash and donation bags as you go and designate an area for your consider later pile; maybe a laundry basket or something similar so that you can keep it mobile as you clean.

It's kind of like moving in to a new space. When you move in to an empty room, you have all your stuff in boxes and you need to figure out where it goes and that can take a while, but it's sometimes easier to find a place to put things in a new environment than it is to put things back "where they belong" because maybe you've added a dozen skeins to your collection and they don't belong in the little yarn bag anymore.

What to trash, what to donate, and what to consider later

Trash should be immediately obvious as trash. Anything that is trash goes in the trash bag right away.

If you find yourself thinking "but I might use this plastic fork that came with my value meal," or "this receipt may be important," put it in the consider later pile and don't think about it right now.

The donate bag should be for stuff that will still be useful for someone, but won't be useful for you. Clothes that you don't like, books you hated and won't re-read, toys you don't want to keep, all of that goes in the donate pile. If you think you might want to keep a piece of clothing but you want to make sure it doesn't fit, don't stop to try it on now just put it in the consider later pile and you can sort it into the donate bag later.

"Consider later" is for anything that requires more than thirty seconds of thought or effort to handle. If you're looking at your desk and you've got a keyboard for your computer on your desk that keyboard is staying there and doesn't need to be considered. If there's an empty takeout cup on your desk, that cup is going in the trash and doesn't need to be considered. If there's a receipt for your computer sitting on your desk, you may want to save that for record-keeping purposes but may not have a place to put it, so that is what you consider later.

Some guidelines on what is or is not trash

You might look at a sturdy plastic cup from a gas station and say "that isn't trash, I could use that, that's still good" but unless you have a specific purpose in mind for it right now, that is trash. If you wouldn't put it in a donation box to be used for some ambiguous future purpose, you don't need to keep it.

If you have a specific purpose in mind, like using an old milk jug to make a watering pitcher for your plants, it may not be trash. But only ONE is not trash; more than that is trash.

If you wouldn't need to have a hard copy of a paper and you have an electronic copy, it is trash. This means receipts for most everyday purchases like groceries and fast food. Don't keep receipts for items past their return period, don't keep receipts for items that you have a digital copy of unless that item cost over $1000.

Nice cardboard boxes (or good glass jars, or sturdy plastic takeout boxes, or cleaned food containers) that you don't have a use for are trash (or recycling, depending on where you live, but still in the trash category).

If you know someone who is specifically looking for an item (like maybe the neighbor kids are asking for cardboard tubes for a science project, or you work with a meal delivery group that could use extra packets of takeout utensils, or you have a friend who is into canning and has asked for jars, or if you make your own soup stock and need containers to put it in, or if you have a friend who is moving and needs lots of good cardboard boxes) then these items don't *have* to be trash but if you are just keeping them in your space and not giving them to people who want them or putting them to use yourself, they are just trash in your space and you should throw them away.

Memory Books/Memento Bags

I make memory books out of the little items i collect into one gallon storage bags. They allow me to hang onto the stuff that I want to keep because it brings me good memories without having a pile of random junk and sometimes without having to keep the item, or having to keep the whole item.

If the thing I want to keep because it brings me good memories is bulky, perhaps I can take a put a picture of that item to put in the book. If it is a worn out shirt, perhaps I can cut a patch off the shirt to put it in the book. If it is a card, perhaps I can cut out just the front of the card, or I can almost certainly just throw away the envelope and put the card in the book.

If you have things that do *not* fit into the memory book, like costume jewelry or rocks or a weird toy you got out of a coin machine on a really fun family vacation, you can also make a memory box; I have some of these and they've got a bunch of truly random crap in them, but I *like* having the nametag from the four hours that I worked at Denny's, or the keychain from when my mom took me to the morgue training class. It's fine to like these things, and to keep many of them, but you want to keep them someplace that they won't stress you out; that might be a display case for nice things, but it also might be a pretty velvet bag that you periodically pull out of a drawer and sort through like a magpie, or a wooden box that you painted.

You can also be selective about this stuff. You don't need every piece of costume jewelry your grandmother owned; keep the pieces you really like or the ones you have strong memories of or the ones that are very nice or the ones that are in good shape. But look, my mom was a teacher and she had a wide variety of goofy holiday jewelry that she wore in the classroom and I don't need to hang onto that. I don't need the big plastic ghost earrings that won't fit in my plugs, but I'll hang onto the spider brooch. She collected cheap watches - I don't need all of her four dollar watches, I can keep the nice ones, or the one that she got for ten years at her job. Do the same thing with stuffed animals and baby clothes and magazines and children's books. You don't need to keep all of it, and keeping all of it isn't going to help you remember that time more, or remember that person better.

Do you really want to keep it or do you feel obligated?

Youtuber Caroline Winkler (who has some great videos about home organization that I like a lot, in particular "this is why your home is a mess" - with the caveat that she likes closed storage and my ADHD ass loves open storage) has a really great tip on getting rid of stuff that works a LOT better for me than the Marie Kondo "Does this spark joy?" question and it's the Red Wine Test. Instead of asking if an item sparks joy, you ask yourself "If a bottle of red wine spilled on this (or if it was in some other way damaged) how hard would I try to fix it?" If you wouldn't try very hard, or if you would be *relieved* then you can get rid of that item. If one of the Venom mugs I have on the shelf fell down and broke, I wouldn't try hard to fix it. If my cat stuffed animal from when I was a kid tore open, I would immediately be looking for my sewing kit.

.... I should recycle those cheap teal glasses, actually.

Some general tips that may help to get you started that work for me and my ADHD and may work for you and your anxiety:

Start a timer for a short time. You don't have to clean your whole house, you are just going to pick up for five minutes. Then you can stop, and you only have to face a *little* bit of the anxiety.

5-4-3-2-1-go. Don't overthink it, count down quickly and then get up and do something. Keep going in as long a spurt as you can manage without getting too upset, but cutting down on the time for pre-game fretting might help with the anxiety.

Do the smallest amount possible. You don't have to clean this room, you just have to take one dish to the sink. You don't have to do all the dishes, you can just unload part of the top tray of the dishwasher.

Some general tips on trying to keep a space clean:

First, encouragement: It is a lot easier to maintain a clean space than it is to create one.

If you're thinking that something needs to be done and it can take you under five minutes to do it and it's right in front of you, do it. I do this with my dishwasher. It turns out unloading the dishwasher is the main thing that stalls me on dishes and keeps my sink full, so now when I'm waiting for the kettle or letting my tea steep, I unload whatever I can get done in that time. If I have the vacuum out and I did my living room but the hall and the bedroom could use a quick pass too, I vacuum them while I've got the machine in my hand.

Set success traps. Success traps are things that let you fall into succeeding by front-loading the effort (or executive function) of cleaning with planning. Trash collects in your living space? Put a bunch of little trash cans everywhere. Cleaning your bathroom takes extra time because you have to go get glass cleaner and paper towels from another room? Keep a bottle of glass cleaner and a roll of paper towels under the sink. You never sweep because it is a pain in the ass to get the broom out of the broom closet? Hang the broom from a mount in the kitchen. It takes too long to clean the counter because you have to pick up a bunch of makeup brushes and bottles and soap? Put that shit on a tray and now you only have to move one thing to clean the counter.

And for your specific question, with "things never seem to quite fit back where they came from" sounds like you're playing storage tetris, which is when things have a place and it is a *very specific and exact* place that doesn't have a lot of room around it. You may need to think about downsizing for your space, or, more likely, think about more efficient storage. That Caroline Winkler video I linked has some tips on this ("don't store things in a way that will make you angry like putting your common use objects on an out of reach shelf or you'll never put things back because it's hard to put them back" and "maximize your weirdo spaces" speak to your situation, i think) that I've put into use, particularly in my kitchen. It was hard to keep the counter clear because it was hard to put my stand mixer away because the rack for the stand mixer had a wok and a bunch of cast iron pans and a panini press and a chafing dish on it; I put the panini press and the least-used cast iron and the chafing dish and the wok in a more out-of-the way cabinet (because i basically never use them but they're very useful when I need them) and now that shelf has a little grill, my more commonly used cast iron, and my stand mixer so putting away the stand mixer is a lot less effort so my counter stays clear. I wasn't using the top shelf of my dish cabinet for dishes because it's too high up for daily use, but it's perfect for the rice cooker, waffle maker, and food processor that I use less than my dishes but more than my george forman grill.

And anyway, the TL;DR for all of that:

Work a little bit at a time, be nice to yourself, don't keep things that aren't worth keeping, and configure your storage in a way that works for you (by keeping your lifestyle, the way you use things, and how easy it is to put away into account before deciding that's where something lives).

Good luck!

[genderqueerdykes]

hey, if you're poor, disabled, homeless or in any other type of disadvantage and need resources, i seriously recommend you check out your local library. i just found out that the library i can walk to does distributions from the food bank every friday, and they have tons of other programs as well. they can help you sign up for government benefits like food stamps and medicaid, and can help you access resources for homeless folk. my local library even has a free menstrual product drive where you can donate menstrual products for people to take for free in case they need them. it also has a safe sharps disposal.

i literally felt like crying when they told me i can pick up a food box every friday, that will literally save me so much money on food. there are so many other resources to utilize as well, such as cheap printing services and access to language learning courses and programs. hell, my local library literally hosts DnD sessions. public libraries offer so much more than i can possibly describe here, and utilizing their services is exactly what keeps them going, so please consider checking out your local library if you're in need of help, or just want to find out what's going on in your local community.

[joeyfranchise]

all tangled up in the moon

justin herbert x fem!reader

summary: you finally began feeling open to dating in your new home of sunny la, especially since your best friend didn’t love you back the way you loved him… unless he did? a telling double date begins unraveling feelings that you didn’t know were shared…

warnings: pining/mutual pining. expressions of feelings. a LOT of fluff. explicit sexual content, MDNI. 18+ only.

word count: 6.3k.

note: my first ever justin fic!! based on so many ideas from my bestie @joeyburrrow, also happy belated birthday btw 🫂 i’m sorry i didn’t get it posted yesterday! but, she and i have talked about so much of this and this fic truly is for her. ALSO— FOR THE PURPOSE OF THIS FIC ONLY— i made justin allergic to walnuts. idk if he is or not, but it’ll make sense when you get there. i hope you like this. love you all. 💗

the dating pool in los angeles was nothing short of horrible.

sure, there were tons of people, which meant tons of options… but that also lead to some problems. there was so much diversity around, which again, is great… but it often led to mismatched partners and having trouble finding someone with all of the same interests or morals or values as you.

that being said, while messing around on dating apps, you found yourself a date that ticked more of your boxes than anyone else had since you moved to the sunny city.

his name was damon, and he worked at a law firm that wasn’t too far from your own nine-to-five job. his profile said he was 6’2, in his pictures he displayed a beautiful smile, and his interests were similar enough to yours that you figured why not give it a chance?

when you swiped right he’d messaged you nearly immediately, which could’ve been a red flag, but he kept it sweet and professional. his personality shined through his messages and you found yourself genuinely laughing at some of his jokes, and that was always a good sign.

you ran into one little problem though. you didn’t really know anyone else in l.a. except for your best friend, therefore you didn’t have many people to trust. sure, you had coworkers and acquaintances in the office, but none of them were around you enough to be able to vet through suitors from your dating life to let you know who would work and who wouldn’t.

you were also afraid to go out with someone new alone, and you blamed that on being an introvert. you ultimately made the decision that either damon would have to be okay with your first date being a double date, or you just wouldn’t go. when damon agreed it was fine, you called justin worriedly - this was going to be the hard part.

he picked up after two rings.

“is this the krusty krab?” you asked teasingly, smiling as you heard him huff out a brief laugh. he lowered his voice before answering.

“no, this is patrick.”

“yeah, justin patrick,” you teased, “unless i called the wrong brother.” you chewed on your bottom lip as you heard him chuckle again.

“that’s my name! don’t wear it out.” he joked. you could practically see the dumb grin already etched across his face. you remained silent for a moment, the weight of the question weighing on you. when you didn’t respond, justin took the lead of the conversation again.

“hey, y/n? you okay? not that i mind you calling me, of course i don’t mind… but did you need something? is everything alright?” you appreciated his ability to talk you down in moments like this, it was like he could sense your nerves even from miles away, and over a phone call.

“i’m okay. but i have a tiny favor to ask. you know you’re my most favorite best friend in the wholeee world, right?” you laughed, trying to push past the anxiety of the question you needed to ask him. “i do. what’s the favor?”

“i have a date friday night and i’ve never met him before. i didn’t know anyone else to ask and.. i was hoping maybe you and chloe could come along? like a double date?”

justin and chloe had started seeing each other recently, and you liked her enough not to really worry about their relationship. sure, she was living your dream being with justin, but you practically knew he didn’t feel the same about you. while you were completely and utterly in love with him, he still saw you as his best friend, and you had learned to accept it.

when you first met chloe you knew she wasn’t his type, she was completely different from justin… but he seemed happy, and that’s all you ever wanted for him. she was excited to meet you too, and in the few times you’d seen her since she was always genuine and kind.

“i think we can make that work, i should be out of practice in time. i’ll let chloe know and then we can figure out where to go. there’s a new restaurant downtown she and i went to a few weeks ago, you’d love it. they have really good raspberry cheesecake!” he said.

“oooh my favorite!” you cheered, already daydreaming of the delicious confection.

“i know.” he agreed. you smiled on the other end of the line, the way he knew you from cover to cover made your heart ache. you only hoped damon - and if not him, then whoever was destined for you - could be such a wonderful lover to you. someone who truly cared to learn everything there was to know about you, just like you and justin did with each other, even if only as friends.

you and justin talked for a bit longer over menial things before you ended the call, bidding him a goodnight. you made sure to text damon about your plans, letting him know you’d get back to him about a time as soon as you could.

he was excited for your date, and also excited to meet justin. you learned damon was a big fan of sports, and even though he wasn’t a chargers fan, he still really liked justin and thought he was a great player. he didn’t believe you when you first told him justin was your best friend, you had to provide him with photo evidence. the whole ordeal made you laugh. after chatting briefly with damon you put your phone on your bedside table before rolling over and getting cozy under your blankets.

you went to bed with a smile on your face that night, excited for your date with damon and also excited for him to meet your best friend.

꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧

you sailed through the week on a high, and when friday night came you were still feeling ecstatic. you were still a little anxious about going out and meeting damon in person for the first time, but getting to know him through the week had helped you warm up a little and let your guard down.

you decided on wearing a simple black dress, classy yet not too-fancy. you curled your hair and applied a light layer of makeup before slipping on a pair of strappy black heels.

you planned on meeting justin and chloe at the restaurant at seven, giving everyone enough time to get ready and allowing justin to shower and freshen up after practice.

damon picked you up at six-thirty. he met you at your door with flowers which you graciously accepted, and you excused yourself to bring them inside and put them in water before locking up and going with damon to his car.

he opened your door for you and you slid in, buckling your seatbelt as you waited for him to get in and start the engine. it was a bit chilly out and you were grateful when damon turned up the heat before backing out of your driveway and heading to the restaurant.

you chatted with him on the drive and it was pretty pleasant, you were thankful that the conversation between you both flowed easily. you learned that his favorite football team was the los angeles rams, and you joked with him that he’d need to let you out of the car immediately because you wouldn’t stand for that nonsense.

he laughed heartily at your joke. he talked to you more about his job, you learned he was a paralegal and that he’d been in the profession for nearly four years. you told him about your experience working in human resources and you related over shared experiences.

when you arrived to the restaurant damon parked and came around to open your door, and you were quickly met by justin and chloe. damon and justin shook hands and introduced themselves to each other as you greeted chloe.

“i love your dress!” she smiled, you thanked her. “you look incredible too, chloe!”

she wore a light blue dress that came down mid-thigh and had long sleeves. she wore black heels as well, and you loved the glittery eyeshadow she had put on.

the four of you walked into the restaurant and justin spoke to the host about reservations he had so graciously called in - which you thanked him immensely for. the host led your party to a table toward the back of the restaurant and you all sat. damon made sure to pull out your chair, and justin did the same for chloe.

the waitress came by shortly after for your drink orders, you and justin both got water. chloe ordered a riesling and damon ordered a cabernet, which you found amusing. you didn’t say anything about it, though.

the waitress brought your drinks quickly and she also brought a basket of bread for the table, with little cups of cinnamon butter. you indulged in one as you listened to justin and damon begin chatting about football.

you and chloe began to chime in at times, and the atmosphere was nice. you and damon also engaged in your own quiet conversation every now and then, and you were starting to like it every time he’d flash you his award winning smile… until justin would smile at you from across the table. in those moments, you knew who your heart truly belonged to.

a few times during dinner the conversations would ebb off, or the input from chloe and damon would stop, leaving only you and justin talking to each other.

the waitress brought your food and you all began dining, while still chatting here and there about work and sports and things of that nature. the waitress came back around a bit later to take plates and your dessert orders. the men continued to talk while you and chloe ordered, with you asking for cheesecake and chloe ordering a fudgy brownie.

something damon said reminded justin of something he needed to tell you, and he turned his attention toward you quickly.

“y/n, i was meaning to tell you that my uncle had some students interested in trying to make a car run on vegetable oil.” you laughed at his statement before giving your input.

“so what, they want to install a second fuel tank i’m assuming? so the vehicle can run on diesel til it’s hot enough and then they’ll switch to the oil?” you ask. “yeah exactly. i thought it sounded pretty cool.” justin smiles. “sounds like a waste of time to me.” you say amusedly. justin tilts his head and gives you a questioning glance.

“it’s totally not a waste of time. if they can figure out how to do it, it’ll be pretty sick.” he disagrees. damon glances between you before chiming in. “i think it’d be pretty cool too!” he agrees with justin.

“do you know how many times they’d have to filter the oil before they could even use it? and they’d have to make sure to install a solenoid valve to switch between two fuel tanks. too much work.” you say, crossing your arms and looking back and forth between both men. chloe says nothing, you assume she has no idea what any of you are talking about.

you noticed damon checking the time on his phone before sliding it back into his pocket and rejoining your conversation, but mostly listening to you and justin bicker.

“it totally reminded me of that 70s show though, you know? when hyde says ‘there’s this car…. and it runs on water, man!’” justin laughs, doing a pretty decent impression of the character.

“i just feel like making modifications to your car so it could run off vegetable oil is a waste of time.” you say, leaning back slightly in your chair. justin’s girlfriend looks between the two of you with an odd look on her face, only breaking focus when she sees the waitress approaching again.

“here’s the double chocolate brownie with vanilla ice cream,” she says, placing the plate in front of chloe, “and here are the slices of raspberry cheesecake.”

she places the plate in front of you and damon is quick to grab it, sliding his piece of cheesecake onto one of the extra serving plates. chloe picks her fork up excitedly, slicing into the brownie and taking a small bite. her eyes roll as she tastes it, the richness of the chocolate has to be delectable. you watch as she cuts another small bite, this time more toward the center of the brownie where you can see it has small pieces of walnut in it.

she reaches over to cup justin’s jaw, squeezing a bit to get him to open his mouth so she can feed it to him. you ignore the slightly jealous feeling bubbling in your stomach as she brings it closer to his mouth, but you can’t get your words out. justin looks at her with a puzzled expression. he hadn’t been paying attention to her or what she ordered, so he has no idea what she’s about to feed him.

as if on instinct, your hand shot across the table and closed around her wrist, stopping her from feeding him. “s-sorry.. uh, justin is allergic to walnuts.” you say, lowering your gaze so you don’t make eye contact with her. she lets go of his jaw and he shrugs sheepishly.

“sorry baby.” she tells him, eating the bite for herself. “it’s okay.” justin replies. his eyes find yours for a fleeting moment, nervous energy is shared between you. damon watches the entire ordeal silently, passing glances between the three of you as he eats his dessert.

you pick up your fork and take a bite too, and the tartness of the raspberry dances across your tongue in a pleasant way. justin was right with his recommendation, this restaurant truly is amazing. damon and justin begin conversing again, and you stay quiet as you eat, listening attentively.

chloe chimes in a few times, earning laughs from both men with her unintentional humor. you slide the last bite of cheesecake on your fork and bring it to your lips, ready to enjoy it, when suddenly your fork is plucked from your hand. you look up to find justin eating the last bite straight off of your fork. yours.

while you’re on a double date. with other people.

your gaze quickly flips from justin to chloe and then to damon as you try to gauge their expressions. damon doesn’t seem to notice or care as he continues talking about football, and justin nods along with what damon is saying as if this ordeal was the most normal thing that has ever happened.

sure, you and justin are close enough to eat off each others forks and sometimes even drink from the same cup or can, but the fact that he did it on a double date baffled you. neither of the men at the table seemed to be giving it a second thought, but when your gaze shifts to chloe you can tell she’s perturbed in some way. her eyes are slightly squinted as she looks you up and and down, and then her gaze shifts to justin as she does the same to him.

you continue to sit quietly at the table, listening to the men talk. chloe stays quiet, too. the tension between the two of you feels almost palpable.

you would never want to come between her and justin, even if you did have feelings for him throughout all these years.

the rest of the time spent in the restaurant went by in a blur. eventually damon and justin stopped talking, realizing that you and chloe hadn’t shared a word, and they mutually decided that dinner should be over.

damon and justin split the checks and pay before each of you stand from the table to leave. when you make it outside you suck in a deep breath of the fresh air, you’ve felt like you were suffocating for the last fifteen minutes. all of you say goodbye to each other before you get into damon’s car, and chloe into justin’s.

the drive back to your house is quiet. you’re anxious, your throat feels tight and you know your cheeks must be incredibly pink. damon hasn’t even glanced at you and you’re afraid to say a word because if you do you’ll start crying.

he finally pulls into your drive and parks the car before looking at you for the first time since you left the restaurant. you wring your hands together before looking back at him, expecting the worst.

“that was fun, justin is a really nice guy.” his voice is genuine as he speaks to you, but you’re prepared for where this is going. “he loves you, y/n.”

you look at him with bewilderment as he continues speaking. you want to say something, but he holds up a finger to tell you to wait. “before you start with the whole ‘he doesn’t feel that way about me’ spiel, he does. i saw how you looked at each other all night. he doesn’t look at her like that.”

tears are pricking at the corners of your eyes as he speaks, and you turn your gaze from his so he won’t see. “you love each other, y/n. it’s okay. i had fun, i’m glad i met you.” he says, reaching over the console to grab your hand. he gives it a gentle squeeze and you look back up at him as he smiles at you. “i would like to be your friend, if that’s okay.”

“yeah, we can stay friends, of course.” you tell him. he lets go of your hand and gets out of the car, circling around to get your door and walk you up the front steps. before you can walk up damon pulls you in for a hug, which you reluctantly accept.

“it was nice meeting and going out with you, y/n. don’t be a stranger!” he says, and then he lets you go and gets back into his car, driving off down the street.

you let yourself in the house and lock the door behind you before collapsing on the couch. you don’t have the energy to move, to take off your shoes, or to even be worried about your makeup.

you just sit there, and you cry. you cry for all the lost time, if it is true and he does love you. and if damon’s wrong, and you do take the time to tell justin how you feel and he rejects you… well, you should go ahead and cry for that too. you cry for the only boy you’ve ever loved.

꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧

justin buckles his seatbelt and holds his foot down on the brake before backing out of his parking spot at the restaurant, ready to get home and into more comfortable clothing. chloe sits beside him silent, like she did for most of the dinner.

he spares a glance her way and notices her posture is rigid, her lips are pressed into a tight, thin line. justin reaches over to grasp her hand but she flinches away from his touch.

“are you okay?” he asks her, his tone concerned. “i’m okay. can you take me to my house, please?” she asks. her voice sounds small, she sounds upset.

“of course.” justin agrees. they hadn’t been dating long enough to make the steps to move in together, but chloe frequented his house often as long as he was home. he thought it was a bit strange that she wanted to go home, but he waited to question it.

when he pulled in her driveway and parked she was quick to jump out of the car and make her way inside. justin turned the car off and pocketed the keys before following chloe inside.

“um, is everything okay?” he asked, stepping into the living room. “no. we need to talk.” chloe said, sitting down on the couch. justin sat next to her and place a reassuring hand on her knee as he waited for her to speak.

“i think we should break up.”

justin is taken aback by her confession, but he doesn’t speak. he waits to hear her out. “i really like you, justin. and i think you like me. but you don’t love me. and you never will, because you love someone else.”

“what?” he asks, his tone incredulous. “you love y/n, justin. you know it, i know it, everyone on the planet knows it… except for her. i think you’re both idiots.” chloe smiles softly.

justin looks around the room nervously, waiting for chloe to speak again. “you’re both idiots because what you’ve been looking for has been in front of you the whole time. it was obvious you two should have been on a date. you both carried the conversation, you were doing silly impressions to make her laugh… you look at her like she’s your most prized possession, justin.”

he takes a deep breath before looking at chloe and finally speaking. “i’m sorry.” is all he’s able to mutter out.

“you don’t need to apologize. i’ll admit, i was upset at first. but on the drive i thought about it, and i just want you to be happy. and i figured someone needed to tell you that girl loves you, because if the two of you have been friends this long and you haven’t figured it out, i’m afraid you never will.” she laughs. “and god, i didn’t even know you were allergic to walnuts.”

justin laughs too before reaching over and pulling chloe into him for a hug. “thank you for telling me all that… and i am sorry. i really am.”

“it’s okay, justin. just get the girl, okay?” she says, shooing him out the door. he waves goodbye before walking off to his car and heading home.

when he arrives home he sits in the driveway pondering… did you really love him back? and if you have, how long? and what was he going to do?

he thinks of all the time he’s lost out on if it’s true, and you do love him back. he’d supressed the feelings for as long as he could remember because he never knew he had a chance - he never thought he’d be the one for you. and if he wasn’t he knew it’d break him, but all he wanted was your happiness.

all he knew right now was that he loved you, that you were the only girl he’d ever loved.

꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧

you don’t talk to justin for a week.

you’re afraid to. usually, he’s the first person you run to about anything, but since the subject matter is him, you feel like you’re stuck between a rock and a hard place. you spend the entire week sad, crying into your coffee or whatever dinner you’ve chosen to eat after work (usually cereal), and watching lifetime movies that are guaranteed to make you feel worse - they make the longing in your chest burn.

justin finally texts you on friday night, and you’re afraid to open it. you let it sit unread for half an hour before your phone starts ringing on the end table. it’s justin, you know it is, but you’re afraid to answer. you pick up your phone slowly and slide your thumb across the screen to answer the call.

“hello?” you sniffle, picking up a tissue to wipe your nose. “hey y/n, you okay?” justin asks.

“yeah, lifetime movie, sorry. what’s up?”

“just wanted to see if you wanna come over and hangout? i haven’t heard from you all week, i miss you.” he says. you miss him too. but are you ready to see him after what happened?

against your better judgment, you agree to go over. after all, he is your best friend. if anyone can get you feeling better, it’s justin. you hang up the call and slide on your slippers before grabbing your keys and phone and heading over to his house.

you didn’t bother changing, you didn’t care what you looked like in front of him. he’d seen you sick as a dog before, he even held your hair when you puked a few times, so he could handle seeing you in an old ratty tshirt and sweatpants that were a few sizes too big.

there’s also no way he could ever judge you for having greasy hair.

you make the quick drive to his place and you almost panic and leave before calming yourself down and walking to the front door. it’s just justin. this is no big deal.

you knock twice but you know he already knows you’re there, and he swings the door open quickly before pulling you into a tight hug. physical affection is something you both enjoy, and you’ve missed him. you wrap your arms tightly around him and squeeze back.

justin laughs as he looks down at you. “sometimes i forget how small you are.”

“or maybe you’re sasquatch.” you say, giving him a shove. he lets go and steps aside so you can get in the door, and you waste no time in sliding your slippers off plopping down on his couch. you notice his house seems a little… different, but you can’t put your finger on it.

justin closes the door and makes his way over to you, acting like he’s going to sit on your lap. “don’t even think about it.” you tell him, bringing your legs up to your chest. he sits next to you and leans into your side.

“how was your week?” he asks you innocently. “it was horrible.” you reply. you share the most miniscule details with him when he tries pressing you further, because you’re too afraid to tell him what’s really wrong. justin listens intently either way, hoping to find something he can do to make you feel better.

“well how’s it been with damon?” he finally asks, and you freeze. justin moves so he can lay his head on your lap, and he straightens out your legs before doing so. your hand naturally finds its way into his hair, your nails raking along his scalp soothingly. he shudders.

“damon um… well. he didn’t wanna go on another date. it wasn’t because he didn’t like me, though. he just said… he could tell u didn’t like him.”

justin hums softly. “interesting.” he says.

“what’s interesting?” you ask him. “chloe broke up with me.”

“WHAT?” you shout, startling him a bit. “sorry… i mean, what? why? i thought you guys really liked each other?”

“well, she liked me a lot. and i liked her but… i don’t love her. she really helped me realize a lot of feelings i had that i’d been holding back.” he turns his head to look up at you and smiles and - oh. oh.

the look he’s giving you seems to be full of pure adoration, pure love. and you realize that he always looks at you like this.

tears start to form in your eyes again and justin sits up, this time pulling you into his lap. “you okay?” he asks, soothingly rubbing his hand over your back.

that’s why it seemed different - all her stuff was gone.

“i don’t know. what’s happening here?” you ask him, burying your face in his neck. “chloe helped me realize that i love you, y/n. i always knew it, deep down. but… i don’t know. i never really thought you felt the same.”

“damon said the same to me. that he could, um, tell we loved each other. are we just stupid?” you ask him, pulling away from his neck to look in his eyes.

“apparently two idiots in love.” he says. his hand finds the back of your hair and smooths over it softly before he pulls you into his neck again, crushing you in another hug.

“so where do we go from here?” you ask, enjoying his embrace. “i guess forward.” he jokes, poking at your sides. “together, of course, if you want that. as a couple.”

you can’t help the giddy feeling bubbling up inside you as he speaks. of course you want that, it’s all you’ve ever wanted. “i love you, justin.” you finally say, and being able to tell him to his face is like a dream come true. “i love you back.” he says softly. you meet his gaze once again and he looks nervous, but you aren’t sure why.

“what’s wrong?” you ask him sweetly. you softly touch his cheek, smoothing over it with your thumb. he doesn’t say another word, but he leans in and kisses you.

you feel dizzy, your heart is pounding incredibly hard against your chest. justin is over the moon too. your lips begin moving in sync, neither of you able to catch a decent breath as you devour each other hungrily. justin's hands find your waist and he pulls you into him further, and your arms circle around his neck.

he pulls away for a second before jumping right back in, awkwardly bumping his nose against yours. you both laugh before kissing again. this is truly what euphoria feels like. you don’t know how long you both sit there taking each other apart, whether it’s minutes, hours or days.

what matters is it’s happening. finally.

your hands trail down his biceps as he continues kissing you, leaving a trail from the corner of your mouth down to the exposed column of your throat. your breath hitches when his lips meet one of your most sensitive spots, right where your neck meets your shoulder. “you okay?” he says, sounding concerned.

“i’m nervous.” you whisper. his gaze is soft as he looks at you, half smile spreading across his face. “it’s okay,” he whispers back, “we don’t have to take this any further until you’re ready.”

you hug him again and kiss his cheek softly. “i want to. i’m just nervous.”

“there’s no reason to be afraid.” he assures you. “do you wanna…” he starts, cocking his head to the side and motioning toward the direction of his bedroom. you nod a simple yes.

he stands with you and leads you down the hall to his room, although you know very well where it is. you’ve spent countless nights here cuddled up with him.

he twists the knob slowly and pushes the door open before guiding you inside, and meeting your lips with his again. the kiss is soft and gentle, and he walks you back toward his bed without breaking contact. once you��ve reached the side of the bed he pulls away and reaches behind himself with one arm, grabbing his shirt and yanking it over his head in one swift motion.

uou hop up onto his bed and get cozy against the pillows as he crawls onto the bed too, leaning over you. you rake your nails over the planes of his chest as he presses a kiss to your forehead. his fingertips find the hem of your sweater and his gaze meets yours, waiting for your approval. you nod, and he slides both hands under it before lifting it over your head.

you’re wearing a simple white bra, but justin is looking at you like you’ve just descended down from heaven. you know he won’t ask you to take it off so you let what little bit of confidence you have flowing through your veins take over, and you quickly reach behind you to unclasp it.

justin sucks in a deep breath at the sight of you. you’re easily the most breathtaking woman he’s ever seen in his life, you have been since he first laid eyes on you… but seeing you like this… he feels like he’s died and made it to the afterlife.

you don’t hide your gawking either, his toned body has always been something you’ve enjoyed staring at whether he noticed it or not. “you’re so beautiful,” justin tells you, leaning in to capture your lips again. as he crawls over your body you can feel his length through his sweatpants, it lays hard and heavy over your leg. you shudder at the thought of it.

justin’s hands slide up your torso and he caresses your breasts softly before tweaking both of your nipples with his thumbs and forefingers. you arch upward into him and your body is covered in gooseflesh as you await his touch again.

you’ve never felt such pleasure and satisfaction in your life, and he’s only barely started. you’re sure that you’ve soaked through your panties and sweatpants at this point. he continues to grab at your chest as he kisses you and you moan out his name softly, causing him to rut against your leg. he needs you just as much as you need him, you can tell.

“justin, i’m ready. i want you.” you tell him, breaking away from his kiss to look into his eyes. he smiles down at you and raises his eyebrow, making sure one more time. “i’m ready.” you promise him. his hands grab the waistband of your sweatpants before pulling them down your legs quickly, along with your panties.

he pulls his off next and your mouth falls open, gawking at the sight in front of you. sure… justin was 6’6, everything about him was big… but holy shit. he is huge.

he smiles at you nervously before reassuring you, “it’ll be okay, i won’t hurt you. i swear.” you almost think you could faint at how cute and sexy he his. you tell him you don’t need any prep but he won’t allow it, and he uses the pad of his thumb to circle your clit quickly as he enters two fingers into you to work you open.

after a few minutes you’re ready, you can’t take anymore and you’re practically begging him to fuck you. he blushes at the sound of your moans, but his chest fills with pride knowing he’s making you feel so good. he pulls his fingers from your soaking heat slowly before wrapping his hand around his cock and giving it a few strokes. you let him situate your body how he needs to and he ends up with your ankles right at his shoulders as he prepares to push into you.

he’s lucky you’re flexible. his lips find yours again as he pushes in and your thankful because his kisses swallow your gasps. he moves slowly, inch by inch until he’s fully seated, and he waits a few minutes before moving so he doesn’t hurt you. when he finally pulls out and pushes back in, he moans loudly at how amazing you feel around him. you moan too, you’ve never felt so full in your life - and you’ve never felt so fulfilled either.

he moves to kiss you again and bumps his nose against yours again sweetly as his hands find yours and he tangles your fingers together. his movements are calculated, slow and methodical as he takes you apart, and unravels you in the very best way.

the room is filled with soft moans and labored breaths and the sounds of you kissing each other anywhere your lips can find. it doesn’t take long for you to reach your peak and tears prick at your eyes when you do. this is all you’ve ever wanted, and it’s beautiful, it’s magical. justin feels the same.

you warn him that you’re close and he tells you it’s okay, you can let go for him. “cum for me, it’s okay. i love you, y/n.” and that’s all it takes. his admission of love knocks you straight over the edge and into the thrashing waters, your orgasm taking over your whole body. he cums soon after, his body enjoying the feeling of you squeezing him as he rides out his high.

when he pulls out of you he stand quickly, running off to his bathroom to grab a warm wet towel to clean you both up. he didn’t bother asking if you were on the pill, he already knows every aspect of your life anyway.

justin cleans all your sensitive areas with the warm rag before wiping himself off and sliding back into bed with you, pulling the covers over your bodies.

“that was amazing.” you admit.

“yeah it was. you know how long we could’ve been doing that?” he laughs, and you giggle too. “i love you.” you tell him. “i love you too, so much. can i tell you something stupidly embarrassing, though?” he asks, and you roll over to face him. “oh god, what justin?”

“remember after we graduated, right after you turned eighteen and we had that pool party?”

“yeah, i remember.” you say. it was one of your fondest memories, actually. “that little yellow bikini you wore… i just thought i should admit to you now that i thought about you in that so much when i was jerking it that i thought my dick would fall off.”

both of you erupt in laughter, the admission funny and embarrassing, although endearing too. “that’s okay, remember right before we went to college and you were teaching me how to drive but you kept getting frustrated and yelling at me? i thought that was the hottest i’d ever seen you.” you say. he pulls you into his chest and kisses you softly.

“you’re getting me all worked up again, baby,” he laughs, kissing at your cheek toward your ear. “looks like we’re gonna have to go for round two.”

- - -

taglist: @slimshiesty @joeyburrrow @starsinthesky5 @joeyb1989

photos and dividers used are not mine, all cred to owners.

[physalian]

10 More Character Types the World Needs More of

Part 1 was specifically character dynamics, but I’m considering this a sequel anyway.

1. Fiercely independent character’s lesson isn’t to “trust people”

I’m not projecting. You’re projecting. There is a divide wide enough to fit the Grand Canyon between “trusting that someone isn’t lying” and “trusting someone to follow through on a promise”. Most dumpster fire attempts at these characters (almost exclusively women) rely solely on mocking them for the former because “not all men” or something.

Being consistently let down in life makes you hesitant to a) gain friends, b) pursue romantic interests, c) maintain familial relationships, d) get excited about any event that demands participation from someone who isn’t you. None of this is simply a bad attitude—it’s a trauma response. There is no lesson to be learned, and not even exposure therapy can help because it’s a real, legitimate, and common stunt people pull, whether they mean it or not.

So write one of these characters and legitimize their fears, give them someone who proves the exception to the rule, but do not let the lesson be “well they just haven’t found the right person yet”. Even the “right person” can let them down. It's about not becoming a self-fulfilling prophecy by sabotaging a good thing to prove it will inevitably go bad.

2. Conventionally attractive men who aren’t horndogs

I’m going to find every way I can to tell you to write more aces. This is to fight the stigma that attractive people must be attracted to people. Give me gorgeous aces and demi’s, men, women, enbys and everyone in between, who put a crap ton of effort into looking their best, and yet happen to not have a very loud libido. They look good for themselves, and not to impress anyone else.

Give me someone who could have anyone they wanted, gender regardless, and just simply has no interest. Or, they do actually have a significant other, but sex, how hot their partner is, or how horny they are, isn’t their internal monologue. I don’t even care if it’s unrealistic, it’s annoying to read.

And, you know, giving men male characters who aren’t thinking about sex all the time can be good, right? Right?

3. Manly warrior men who also write poetry

A.K.A Aragorn, Son of Arathorn. Just give me more Aragorns, period. This dude is either covered in filth, blood, guts, and the last 30 miles of rugged terrain, or singing in Elvish at his own coronation while pink flower petals fall. A man can be both, and still be straight.

A man can also drink Respect Women juice, you know? He ticks off all the boxes—he’s gentle when he needs to be, not afraid to hide his emotions, kind to those who are vulnerable and afraid and need a strong figure to look up to, resolute in his beliefs, skilled and knowledgeable in his abilities without being arrogant or smug, and the first boots on the battlefield, leading from the front.

4. Characters who are characters when no one is watching

This is less a specific type and more a scene that doesn’t get written enough. This whole point comes from Pixar’s Cars. I. Love. This. Movie. It’s not Pixar’s best, for sure, but this is my comfort movie. The best scene, one that’s so unique, is when Doc (aged living legend) thinks he’s alone when he rolls out onto the dirt race track and comes alive tearing around the oval.

This character’s unbridled, unabashed glee and euphoria at proving to himself that he’s still got it, when he’s completely unaware of his audience, is perfection. Not enough credence is given to characters to just… enjoy being themselves. He’s not doing it to prepare for the climactic race, he’s not doing it for the plot, he’s doing it just to do it, not even to prove Lightning wrong—just for himself.

Give your characters a “Doc Racing” scene. Whatever their skill is. Maybe they’re a dancer, a skater, a swimmer, a painter, sprinter. Just let your character love being alive.

5. Characters whose neurodivergence isn't “cute”

A.K.A. Lilo Pelekai from Lilo and Stitch. Really, her relationship with Nani is peak sibling writing. But Lilo herself is just so realistic with how she interacts with the world, how she interprets her relationships with her so-called friends, how she organizes her thoughts and rationalizes what she can’t quite understand, and how friggen smart she is for an… 11-year-old?

But she’s not “cute”. As in, she wasn’t written by generic Suits who were trying to cash in on the ND crowd by writing what they think will sell, but also making her juuust neurotypical enough to still be palatable by the rest of the audience. Lilo’s earnestness is what endears her to everybody. But also, she doesn’t get a free pass for her behavior, either. Her “friends” aren’t forced to accommodate her and Nani isn’t written as the cold-hearted villain for trying to discipline her.

6. Straight male characters with female friends

Am I double-dipping a bit here? Yes. While I completely understand how tempting it can be, this type of character is in dire need of exposure and representation to prove it’s possible. No weird tense moments, no double-glances when she isn’t looking, no contemplations about cheating on his girlfriend (and no insecure jealous girlfriend either). Just two characters who enjoy each other’s company and are able to coexist in a space and be in each other’s spaces without hormones getting in the way. Peak example? Po and Tigress from Kung Fu Panda.

Let these two rely on each other for emotional strength in times of need, let them share inside jokes, let them have a night alone together at a bar, at home, cooking dinner, getting takeout, talking on the patio in a porch swing… with zero “will they/won’t they.”

7. The likable bigot

I’m actually on the fence with this one but it’s something I also don’t see done often enough and I’m adding it for one reason: Bigots aren’t always obvious mustache-twirling villains and the little things they do might seem inconsequential to them, but are still hurtful. So showing these characters is like plopping a mirror down in front of these people and, I don’t know, maybe something will click. They don’t have to be MAGAs to be dangerous, and only writing the extremes convinces the moderates that they aren’t also the problem.

Example: I have a “friend” who recently said something along the lines of “I have lots of gay friends” followed up shortly by “I don’t think this country should keep gay marriage because it’s a slippery slope to legalizing pedophilia.” You know. The quiet part being that she *actually* thinks being gay is as morally abhorrent as being a pedo. But she totally has lots of gay friends. Including one who was driving her during that conversation. (It’s me. Hi. I’m apparently the problem, it’s me.)

She’s absolutely homophobic, but the second she stops announcing it, she’s a very bubbly person. She’s a ~likable~ bigot and thus thinks she can distance herself from the more violent ones.

8. The motherly single father

I say “motherly” merely as shorthand for the vibe I’m going for here. “Motherly” as in dads who aren’t scandalized by the growing pains of their daughters, and who don’t just parent their sons by saying “man up boys don’t cry”. Dads who play Barbie with their kids of either gender. Dads who go to the PTA meetings with all the other Karens and know as much if not more than they do about the school and their kids’ education.

Dads who comfort their crying kids, especially their sons. Dads that take interest in “feminine” activities like learning how to braid their daughter’s hair, learning different makeup brands, going on nail salon trips together. Dads who do not pull out the rifle on their daughter’s new boyfriend and treat her like property. Dads who have guy friends that don’t mock him and call him gay. Dad who does all this stuff anyway and is *actually* gay, too, but the emphasis is on overly sensitive straight men’s masculinity here.

Wholesome dads: a shocking amount of single-parents to female anime protagonists.

9. The parent isn’t dead, they’re just gone

Treasure Planet is an awesome movie in its own right, but what’s even better? This is a Disney movie where the parent isn’t dead, he’s just a deadbeat who abandoned his son and isn’t at all relevant to the plot beyond the hole he left behind for Jim to fill. The only deadbeat dads Disney allows are villains and those guys are very vigorously chasing an aspiration, that aspiration just doesn’t include quality fatherhood. Or motherhood. Disney has yet to write a deadbeat mom, I’m almost certain.

I just wrote a post about the necessity of the “dead parent” cliche, but what is perhaps more relatable because it’s more common, and what earns even more sympathy and underdog points for the protagonist? The hero with the parent who left. Then there’s a whole extra layer of angst and trauma available when your hero can now plague themselves with the question of if the parent leaving is their fault. Death is usually an accident. Choosing to abandon your kid is on purpose.

10. Victim who isn’t victim-blamed or told by their friends (and the narrative) to forgive their abuser

Izuku Midoriya lost so much support from me the moment he told his friend, bearing the consequences of domestic violence across half his face, that Midoriya thinks he’ll be ready soon to forgive his abomination of a father. I am firmly in the “Endeavor is a despicable human and hero” camp and no I’m not taking criticism. I audibly gasped when I heard this line and realized Deku was serious. Todoroki needs friends like the Gaang to remind him that he's allowed to hate the man who's actions caused the burn scar across his f*cking face.

I understand that the mangaka apparently didn’t anticipate the vitriolic backlash toward Endeavor during his debut and reveal of his parenting tactics but the tone-deafness of telling a fifteen year old with crippling emotional management issues and a horrible home life that his abusive dad in any way deserves and is entitled to forgiveness on the grounds of being related is disgusting.

Take it back further to a more famous Tumblr dad: John Winchester. Another despicable human who got retroactively forgiven by his sons after his death in a “he wasn’t so bad, he really did try” campaign. It’s one thing if the character believes it, it’s a whole different matter if the narrative is also pushing this message.

Katara is a perfect example: She lets go of her grudge for her own peace of mind and stops blaming Zuko for something he had no hand in, stops blaming him simply because he’s a firebender and he’s around to be her punching bag. She doesn’t forgive the man who killed her mother, because that man doesn’t deserve her forgiveness. Katara heals in spite of him, not because of him, and had she let him off the hook, she would have gotten an apology for getting caught, not for what he did (which is exactly what happened).

[21wanderer]

Buyer's remorse?

You froze when you saw the transaction on your bank account. It was ten times as much as you'd thought. Frantically you look through your mailbox looking for the invoice, but to your horror you discover, that the same ludicrous amount is written there. All you wanted was a good-quality Spiderman suit, just for a bit of escapism, but now you were almost broke. Looking over the invoice again you finally realise the mistake - it said Spiderman Suit Deluxe. You don't remember choosing a Deluxe, and now that little word had cost you a minor fortune.

Finally you calmed yourself, telling yourself it's going to be alright. You get the package, then just use the return label and get your money back. It took excruciatingly long for the package to arrive, the webshop had no phone number nor chat function, only an e-mail address, and though you wrote multiple mails explaining your situation and the obvious mistake, you received no answer. You feared that you had been duped.

Then finally three weeks later, the package arrived. Getting it home from the package shop was an ordeal, as the package was much bigger, heavier and unwieldy than you expected, and yet you still felt the concern of being scammed, the thought of the box containing some cheap - or in this case - expensive knock-off.

You carefully opened the box, being extremely cautious, trying to make sure that you didn't bruise or dent the box or its content the slightest. There it was the iconic red-and blue suit… the white-eyed mask, the intricate black web-pattern. It wasn't just a cheap knock-off, this could pass for the real thing. The fanboy in you really wanted to put it on, but your common sense said 'no' - any sign of use and the suit might be unreturnable.

There was no visible delivery note on top of the costume, so you carefully began to pick up the pieces and place them gently on the floor, making an internal note of which order they would have to be put back in. As you removed the components of the Deluxe-Spiderman suit looking for the delivery note, you began to wonder how this suit alone could justify such a big box, once you removed the suit itself from what you assumed was the last piece, you expected to find a ton of packaging peanuts filling half the box, but no, it was something else.

Your jaw dropped as a flesh-coloured mass revealed itself, at first you couldn't comprehend what you were looking at, but then you realised they were synthetic body pieces. There was a torso with arms, a pair of legs, feet, hands… and a face - Tom Holland's face. So this is what made the costume 'deluxe'.

As you picked up the pieces of the body, you forgot everything about the hefty price tag, this was way more than you have ever dreamed of. You could be the actual Spider-man, you could be the actual Tom Holland in the role of Spiderman. You found the delivery note at the bottom of the box, but that somehow seemed completely irrelevant now. You stretched one of the hands/gloves, it looked like skin, it felt like skin, it even smelled faintly human.

With an unparalleled eagerness and excitement you undressed, you held up the sculpted torso in front of you, still amazed at the detail, still beyond belief of how this could be real. You pushed your head through the opening at the neck, then pushed your arms through the sleeves, it was just like putting on a shirt, except this was something far more than that. You adjusted the shoulders and made sure they were in place, and marvelled at the result. You got Tom's tight pecs and athletic arms, you place a hand on your new stomach feeling the abs beneath the synthetic skin.

Having had a taste of what you could have only left you hungry for more - you felt insatiable and wanted it all. You slid on the legs like a pair of tight leggings, except padded with lean muscles, soon enough your lower half was covered with Tom's strong legs. Grinning you put on the hands like they were regular gloves. They slid right over your own hands and within moments they felt like they were. You stretched and flexed your new fingers, rubbing your face, your new pecs and abs. They felt real, looked real, right down to the fingerprints, which you imagined were identical to the real Tom's - everything else seemed to be.

You put the feet on like a pair of toe socks, pushing each toe into place and wiggling them as they stretched over your own. With the feet perfectly in place, you stand up to get a better look at your new body. You look astonished at yourself in the mirror, the face still your own, but the rest of your body unmistakably Tom's - athletic, smooth, lean and all yours. You pick up the Tom Holland mask, so incredibly life-like, from the lush hair to the soft cheeks and the strong chin, you almost lost yourself in thought, maybe you could just keep this on - permanently. Out of the corner of you eye, you notice a little tub at the bottom of box, you put down the Tom mask.

You read the label of the little container and opened it to reveal a bright pink substance, it was a sealant, to cover the seams of the suit, effectively fusing them together. Without hesitation you dipped your fingers into the thick pink goo and immediately applied it to your wrists and ankles, the bright colour faded soon after, the seems that before were near-invisible were now completely gone. With a delighted smile on your face, you apply the sealant to the seam at your waist. The bright colour faded again, taking a natural skin tone, and you felt the skin tighten, the seam was gone. With the replica Tom-body under your command and firmly attached, you slip on the mask.

The face snapped into place, and you stepped in front of the mirror. It was unmistakably Tom staring back at you, every facial feature flawless and indistinguishable from the real one . You lost track of time exploring every inch of your new body, and you've already decided, this was simply too good. You pulled on a pair of underpants, letting go of the elastic with a pleasing snap.

You put on the Spiderman suit, though it almost feels almost secondary now. You're already wearing a "Spiderman-suit" and this one, you are never taking off - however this is the true fanboy dream, you aren't just the character, but also the actor who brings it to life.

With expected ease you slip on the Spiderman-costume, it was tailored to perfectly fit Tom's/your body, and it did. You smiled at yourself in the mirror, brimming with confidence, looking like a hero, feeling like a hero, having the body of a hero.

Before you slipped on the second mask, completing your costume, you glanced over at the little tub of sealant on the table and chuckled, knowing there was still a handful left. You had a feeling, that in the very near future, you'd be applying it to your neck, making the fantasy complete.

And soon enough you did. The mask sealed in place. Tom's body and face were yours, and you're never going back.

[jinxxsims]

so much wonderful cc that i use daily in my game, and somehow i never hit a follow! i apologize for my hideous crime. you're amazing💖💖

I'm so glad you've found things here that are of use to your game! I don't think there's any greater compliment than that. Thank you for following, and if your honor, a follower's gift, since I just passed 1250!

These are conversions from a really gorgeous Sims 4 set called "Cozy Cabin" by ValiaSims. There are five slots on the end table. The slippers, hat box, makeup bag, and wicker box are deco and can be found in General > Dresser, while everything else can be found in the usual places.

There are a ton of recolors of everything here. I've included the recolor images so you can pick and choose what to keep. Remember to discard the images before adding the files to your download folder.

Files are compressorized.

Download Valia's 4t2 Cozy Cabin Followers Gift

Just a heads up, I currently have nine requests/messages to respond to, so if you're waiting on a response from me, please be patient. I will get to them all, I promise!

[leqonsluv3r]

leon!kennedy x bimbo!reader headcanons <3

an: my theme is gonna be just a smidge different now that i’m back. i’m also just going to be putting things out when im comfortable now. going to be putting less pressure on myself <3 anyways, this has been plaguing my brain lately so enjoy!!

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ leon had never dated anyone like you in his entire life. hell, he had never even met someone like you until you showed up into his life, all sparkles and pink. it was truly something special, he expected you to go away just like all the others but you didn’t. you were the complete opposite of him, maybe that’s what drew you into his orbit. he was never sure.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ leon always made sure you were comfortable with him touching you. he never wanted to make you uncomfortable. you didn’t really seem to get the things he said most of the time but he made it very clear that if you didn’t want him to touch you, he wouldn’t. he needed you to understand that.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ you knew that you weren’t like everyone else, you were very certain of that. your brain didn’t operate on the save wavelength as most people’s. leon was patient with you, even when simple things confused you. he never called you dumb or made you feel like crap. he was sweet, he wasn’t like other men. maybe that’s why you stuck around with him.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ even when you went on a shopping spree and bought a ton of things you didn’t really need, but wanted. leon payed for most of them, even when he didn’t have too. you had never had someone that wasn’t your parents offer such a thing. it made your heart all warm, made your belly erupt in butterflies. leon was not like the others.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ you would get stared at in public a lot too. you were used to it by now, but it seemed leon wasn’t. after all, you were a little more…luckier off then some girls. you had bigger boobs and a nice ass. it just seemed to attract a lot more attention when you were out. same with the stuff you wore, that didn’t really ever help much. leon almost wanted to wrap you in a paper bag so that none of the men would look your way when you guys went out. but even that wouldn’t work, he knew, you were going to attract attention either way. you were simply too beautiful.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ leon often had to explain simple things to you, he realized soon enough into the relationship that you were…not the brightest crayon in the box. but he found it adorable the way your mind worked sometimes. plus, he loved the way your face would scrunch up when you were the tiniest bit confused (and that was a lot). but he loved you for it anyways.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ leon loved helping you get dressed up for date nights too. he loved helping you put on whatever pink and flashy outfit you had wanted to wear. he loved watching you do your hair and your makeup, getting all dolled up for him. it made him feel underdressed (even though he wasn’t) and make him feel proud to call you his girlfriend.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ another thing leon loved more then anything was waking up next to you. the way your small snores would echo off the bedrooms paint, the way your eyelids would flutter when you were dreaming. it was like paradise to him. like he had suffered so much in his life just to make it to this point, have you sleeping next to him, all curled up in his sheets (or your sheets, depending on the day). he would never wake you up, he would try his hardest not too. just content with watching you sleep and dream like you didn’t have a care in the world.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ leon didn’t have to even try to get you to be affectionate with him. you did it all without fail. you weren’t clingy but you weren’t pawing at him like a wild animal either. you wouldn’t beg for his attention, he would willingly give it, because, how could he deny you? you were his perfect angel. you were everything he wasn’t. it would be like trying to deny himself air, simply impossible.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ leon loved having sex with you too. not for the obvious reasons…sure, you had a nice body. that was an added factor but you were so easy to read. he didn’t have to figure you out like some puzzle. you got so easily wound up and he could easily tell when you were aroused. he had it down to a science at this point.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ you would be sitting next to him on the couch, your thighs would be pushed together at some point. then you’d lean your head into his shoulder. he would catch her, open his arms a little more so you could snuggle into his side. he would notice all these things, see the way your eyes struggle to stay focused on whatever they were watching on tv. you would start squirming and then…

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ your lips would find his, whatever would be playing on the tv would be forgotten and you would end up either underneath him, straddling his lap or in some position. he would let you guys make out, let his hands wander up to your breasts or your ass. your moans would only spur him on more. pushing his strained erection in his pants to basically become painful as they would make out.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ eventually he would move you to the bedroom, lay you down on the sheets, he would pepper kisses all over your body. lay you bare and take his time with you. he would always prep you first, like he had all these things time in the world. stretch you open on his fingers or make you fall apart on his tongue. he always made sure you were ready. make sure you were enjoying yourself or else he wouldn’t enjoy himself.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ he loved you so much, especially when he would have sex with you. your moans and whimpers echoing off the bedroom walls while he thrusted into you. the way your claw at his skin with her manicured nails. the way your thighs would wrap around his hips, hold him close to you in anyway he could as if to draw him in, make sure he never left. he never would, not when you were gripping him like a vice every time.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ the way your breasts would move with every thrust, the way your mouth would part and each time he hit that spot inside of you, you’d release a loud moan. sometimes he made you bury your head in the pillow so the neighbors didn’t complain but most of the time he didn’t care. he wanted to hear how good he made you feel. how well he satisfied you, made you fall apart underneath his grasp.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ every time he’d make you fall apart with him, he never got tired of it. the way your face would contort into full pleasure or the way your breathing would labor, the moans and sounds that would leave your mouth. he never got sick of it. sex with you would never get boring it was just one of the many things that kept him in love with you.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ he would hold you close to him afterwards, clean you up. he loved holding you close afterwards, which you didn’t argue against. you loved cuddling close to him, feel his muscled arms wrap around you and hold you strongly. you felt safe and protected, loved. you didn’t ever want to let go of him. you felt like you had come home anytime you were in his arms. no judgement, no fear, no lies. just you and him as it always would be.

taglist: @elihii @heartsforvin @adollrable @spfoah @jmivenus @rcttendolly @shinigamigloss @sacredwarrior88 (if you want to be added to the taglist, just DM me!! they are open!!)

[seamstraw]

things I noticed on a rewatch of thunderbolts:

in the elevator shaft, when they realize that they don’t have a way to reach the door safely, bob mutters that he always makes things worse. ouch.

the first time yelena asks bob if he trusts her, he's sort of ambivalent/unwilling to respond. but this is pretty soon after bob just saw yelena's shame room, in which yelena gets anya killed. not her fault, of course, but not exactly a good first impression for trusting someone either.

valentina wears an american flag pin on her suit when sitting before congress (which I did notice on my first viewing), but this time I also noticed she takes it off when going to clear out the O.X.E. warehouse. nice touch.

bob is twitching like CRAZY as sentry—his eyes, his mouth—I’m impressed by the actor. I'm assuming this is meant to reflect a manic episode? he's also hella shaky in the vault, but that kinda checks out for anyone with three people pointing guns at you regardless of mental health status.

ava grabbing bucky's arm, and alexei and john working together to drag him into the elevator... my heart. also, everyone's faces when valentina orders bob to kill them? the way they get defensive of each other even though they know for certain he could obliterate them in an instant? my heart x2.

the first time I watched, I found alexei’s humor too forced. bad marvel humor at serious moments, like thor: love and thunder. but this time, I interpreted it more as him trying too hard to connect with yelena but not knowing how to do it in a serious way. as he says in their heart-to-heart, he’s not very good at this sort of thing.

I’ve seen people say that walker stops calling bob “bobby” after hearing his father call him that, but only yelena heard that. walker just hears “robert.” also, walker calls bob “bobby” in the lab too.

valentina's "bad guys and worse guys" speech is still great. but. mel. mel, mel, mel. cannot believe you're still asking valentina if she's trying to do good things. do you not remember her housewarming present. and the medical experiments that killed people. and the everything else valentina.

bucky is probably boggling inside of the shame rooms. I thought we were here to beat this guy up? but now we're defending him? getting beat up by his past self on meth? hugging the depression out of him? alright. going with the flow.

walker flipping the table is what pops open the storage box bob is in... kinda curious about what would've happened if bob never got released. I guess the other three would all die, either to each other or in the incinerator (since bob's sudden appearance stopped the fight), and then bob would wake up alone in the ashes? or maybe the other three would actually escape, except sans bob? but tbh even if they make it out of the incinerator, I suspect they die either with no way to get up the elevator or trying to drive away without a distraction.

ava doesn't have a whole ton of lines, but her body language in the background is great. props to the actor. even when she's not the focus of a scene, you can tell how she feels.

have seen claims in powerscaling reddit posts (yes, I know) that bob caught ava during the fight by anticipating where she was going to un-phase and using superspeed. but after he grabs her, she blurs in and out a few times and still can't escape. seems like sentry can manipulate molecules or some shit.

sentry’s outfit has grown on me a little. I actually like all the lines and stuff, the belt just throws me off because it’s so. big. and the logo is so. prominent. idk.

initially thought bob's memory loss extended all the way to the vault. am now thinking his memory loss probably starts after he gets shot? he knows who walker is, but he doesn't recognize valentina's face. would line up with activating his powers -> memory loss.

realized that valentina in the finale probably spots bob and is like "wtf. wtf. wtf." last time she saw this guy was floating in the sky going evil and then she got forced to relive her dad's murder twenty times. time before that was this guy pinning her against a wall and choking her to death. now he's in a fucking oversized sweater and clapping at the press conference.

the new avengerZ sponsored by tide. and like ten other companies. lmfao.

[meathunt]

Alien yan idea

This story has been brought to you all by inspo from Chaos's Arkuma oc and also the though of "Human spacecrafts are the equivalent of a cardboard box to aliens" Hope yall enjoy! ---

Your fist slammed against the control panel.

The escape pod that you were shoved in was malfunctioning, you bet that your luck is so great that the madman that decided that blowing up the main ship was their God given task was throughout enough that they most likely messed with the pods to ensure they took everyone down with them.

You were fortunate enough that when your boss decided to drag you into the pod he gave you a very generous emergency package, med kit, tools and both food and water rations that would suffice for months if you measured yourself.

The first weeks you were hopeful that you would receive some response to the distress signal you were sending, but as the time passed you hope slowly diminished. And when the alerts of malfunctions started to pop up you felt even more hopeless. You didn’t want to give up, for the people that were waiting for you, and for the people that helped you get out of the station you will survive. ---

Oyrehn was overlooking the work of his crew, checking up on the borders of their territory, and as one of the most renown captains of his organization he took pride on doing a flawless job.

That being said it still was mind numbing work, after all this part of the territory was most times completely unremarkable at best, it was a space dumpster if you will, filled mostly with space debris and the occasional smartass that thought could use it as a secret road only to end up needing help to get out of the occasional meteor rain.

So when he noticed an out of place shinny object he took the initiative on looking deeper into it. Setting the computer to analyze it, the results that the computer gave him took him by surprise.

A human? So far out on here?

Humans were a bit of a hot topic around the network, they were a new found species still a bit archaic in terms of technology, but their biology was the most interesting of all. No claws or fangs, no external carapace or protection, just squishy soft creatures that don't grow taller than most their hips. Their survival has been credited to their ingenuity and mostly straight up luck and chance.

Things that make them very interesting creatures, and in some cases sought out creatures. As they have been rumored to be living lucky charms.

He is one of the ton of interested aliens in humans, but not exactly because he believes in those rumors, but because he is enamored with how soft you all look, warm blooded beings that are moved by curiosity and motivation, how is he supposed to not gush over you all?

But the thing is that, you are in no level to be able to explore space safely, much less survive or thrive in this environment.

With that thought in mind he gave the order to catch and bring your ship aboard, and that he will deal with the issue at hand. ---

You felt the pod shake before being able to register that you were moving, indicating that something was very wrong.

The sudden movement waking you fully, you were going to check the system to see what the fuck went wrong now when you saw it.

A behemoth of a space ship that was slowly getting closer. You wanted to believe that somehow this was a rescue crew that came for you.

But you couldn’t trick yourself, you knew the team had nothing of this magnitude and the closer you got you could notice just how big it really was. No human could build something like that without it being public knowledge.

As you felt your ship touch ground and noise outside of the pod filled your ears your only thought was how did you end up here?

[materia-girl88]

Lesson (Not) Learned

18+, minors dni. bondage, oral, light slapping, use of a vibrator, unprotected p in v sex, and maybe some minor edging?

joel shows you what's up after you take teasing him a little too far ;)

my first joel fic is finally complete! pls lmk how you feel, love it or hate it, just be kind. i have been in love with joel miller since 2013 when the game first came out. i was 13 and obsessed lol.

i also didn't mention any ages so it can be left to however you want, but i myself imagine reader in her late 20's/early 30's

enjoy!!

You could only blame yourself for the current situation that you were in. You never should've teased Joel, never should've called him an "old man" when he groaned as he stood from his recliner.

You knew the age gap in your relationship didn't bother him anymore but you loved to rib him over it, especially once he started finding some gray hairs.

It was all in good fun and you always made it up to him after, usually on your knees and with his dick between your lips.

You pushed it too far this time, though.

"You better watch it, honey," Joel had huffed at your name calling, his brown eyes narrowing.

It really was like he was asking for it and you couldn't resist.

"Or what, old man? It's not like you can do anything about it," you had teased, coming face to face with him.

What you hadn't accounted for was him lifting you over his shoulder and carrying you up to your shared bedroom before tossing you on the bed.

"Don't you move," he'd warned, eyes lit up with determination, "I'm gonna show you just what this 'old man' can do."

He had gone to your beside drawer you gulped, knowing what he was going for, and all you could do was thank the heavens that Ellie had her own space out in the garage. You didn't want to traumatize the poor kid with the noises you'd surely be making.

And now here you were, tied up with your hands at the headboard and your ankles tied to each pole at the end of the bed so you were spread eagle, fully naked.

Joel stood at the end of the bed just observing, letting his eyes roam your naked body from your full breasts that rose and fell with each of your nervous breaths to the swell of your hips and down to your glistening pussy.

You were pretty much soaked by just having seen him get the soft fabric he always used to tie you up with. You knew you were in for it when he got them out.

"Now, I was plannin on waitin for our anniversary for this but you've forced my hand," he said, heading to the wardrobe in the corner where his gear was stored. Having a scavenger for a partner meant having tons of gear and so you both had gotten him a place to put the stuff he needed for his adventures away from the closet where both of you hung your everyday clothes. You never bothered his wardrobe, knowing he was meticulous with keeping it just how he liked it, so you had no idea what he had stored away.

You couldn't help the gasp you let out as he turned, a small box in one hand.

"I found this while goin through the old strip mall off the highway with Tommy. I know we talked about gettin one before but I could never find one still in the box. I got lucky in one of the stores. And I already charged it up," he said, voice husky as he opened up the box containing the vibrator.

It was nothing special, red in color and a couple of ridges along the length of it, but you were already squirming in anticipation.

"Please," you whimpered, "I want it."

A dark chuckle escaped him.

"Oh it's too late for that, darlin."

He took his time undressing and you shuddered at the sight of his torso. He wasn't overly muscled but you could see the definition of his strength in his body. It was strength gained by work and survival, not by exercise.

His cock was already hard from watching you and he groaned as it was released from the confines of his jeans and boxers.

"You're gonna take what I give ya when I say."

Your thighs were trying to clench together to get some relief from the ache your pussy felt but it was no use with your ankles tied down.

Joel have a dark chuckle as he watched your struggles before he came to kneel onto the edge of the bed. His large hands came to your knees and held them, preventing you from trying to close your legs.

He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your hip bone, his teeth biting into it enough to leave a mark causing you to gasp, your belly tightening with anticipation.

More kisses were left in a trail from your hip bone, to the crease of your thigh and to your wet pussy where he quickly laved his tongue against you.

"J-Joel," you whimpered out, eyes closing. You jumped as a sharp smack was left against your inner thigh, pulling a yelp from you as your eyes popped open.

"Watch me. Don't you dare look away darlin," Joel growled.

You whined as you struggled to keep your eyes on your husband as he worked, eating you out like you were the best meal he'd ever had (and in his opinion, you were).

You loved the sight of Joel's strong shoulders and back muscles shifting as he pleased you. He was so handsome, his biceps bulging as he held himself up between your thighs.

"Tell me how you're feelin, pretty girl," Joel murmured before sucking your hard clit between his lips.

"Ah! G-Good, so...so goo..goddammit," your voice was broken, tears beading in your eyes. He had begun to tease that spot with the tip of his tongue, the spot just to the right of your clit that had you fucked up every time.

Joel smiled against your arousal, pleased with himself, before pulling away much to your dismay, causing you to cry out for him.

"Are you gonna keep your teasing up when I tell you to stop?" he asked, sitting up and letting his warm palms run up and down your quivering thighs.

"N-No," you whined, taking deep breaths to calm yourself.

He pressed his thumb into a mark her left on your thigh, causing you to shiver.

"And are you gonna be good for me?" he asked you, dark brown eyes meeting your teary ones.

You nodded shakily, hips beginning to squirm, still entirely worked up as you let out a soft, "Yes."

Joel crawled up your body, landing to hold himself above you with one arm as the other came to grip your jaw, not tight enough to hurt, but so your gaze stayed locked with his as he spoke.

"Yes, what?" he asked.

And God help you, you must have a death wish because you couldn't help yourself.

"Yes, old man," you said, voice somehow firm.

Fire lit in Joel's eyes as he pulled away quickly.

He was pissed, chest heaving with angry breaths before he said, "You're in for it now, darlin."

You let out a yell as his hand brought another smack, not hard, just about the same he did to your thigh, onto your soaked pussy. His hand made an obscene sound against the wetness of your arousal and you nearly jumped from your skin at the feeling.

"Oh, god, please!" you cried, hips rolling up into the air.

He laughed darkly.

"God isn't here, baby."

He slid his hard cock between the soaked folds of your pussy, using your wetness as lube to slick himself up.

You whimpered each time the head of his cock passed over your needy little clit. Joel took delight in the sounds, continuing to grind against you, using his hand to hold his dick and control the pressure that it rubbed against you.

You were already close, a shaking mess from the teasing.

"Joel, I'm close. P-Please, I need to come," you begged, but it was useless.

Your husband back away again, cock dripping with your wetness as he tilted his head slightly, his gaze traveling over your body.

"Only good girls get to come. And you, honey, have been anythin but good." he said, pleased with himself.

You were a mess, cheeks flushed red, nipples perked, and your thighs covered in marks.

"Okay, okay, I-I'm sorry," you apologized, just absolutely needy for his cock. You were willing to do anything at this point as long as he fucked you.

Joel's jaw clenched as he watched you beg, his hand coming to grab your throat now. Not enough to harm or choke up, just to hold you in place and show you who's in charge.

"I'm gonna fuck you. And you're not gonna come until I say so, got that?" he asked.

You nodded, and jolted when he gave your cheek a bit of a love tap.

"I want words, baby. Yes what?"

You gulped, licking your lips before saying what he wanted to hear, what you loved to call him.

"Yes, sir."

With that, your husband positioned himself on his knees to kneel between your legs, thrusting into you in one fluid movement.

You yelled out while he moaned, his hips immediately setting a pace that you could tell was going to bring you close to orgasm quickly.

"Your pussy's so tight, darlin. So wet. I love bein inside you," he growled, his hands holding your hips now to keep you in place as he drove into you.

Soft moans punched out of your lungs with each crash of his hips to yours, your breasts bouncing.

The sounds in the room were downright pornographic, both of your moans mingling with the wet sounds of his cock plunging into you.

"Could an old man make you feel like this?" he asked breathily, teeth clenched.

The headboard was smacking the wall and it was a good thing Joel was a carpenter. It wouldn't be the first time he'd had to fix your bedroom wall because of your sex life and it surely wouldn't be the last.

His hand went over to the vibrator he had laid beside you, not turning it on yet as he brought it to your lips.

"Get it wet," he demanded and you listened immediately, lips wrapping around the toy. You soaked it with your saliva, cheeks hollowing around it as you gazed up at Joel.

He loved the sight, watching you suck off the toy with a lustful gaze.

"You have such pretty lips, baby. Should've had you suck me off too," he huffed.

After making you feel like this? He could live in your throat.

Once he made you come, of course.

When the toy was thoroughly soaked, he pulled it from your mouth, switching it on.

He let the vibrating toy train from your lips, down your chin, and between your breasts.

When it pressed it into one of your sensitive nipples you couldn't help the strangled noise that left you, back arching to push into the feeling.

He teased both of your nipples with the spit slicked toy, causing them to become wet and shiny, sensitive and red until the tears were finally streaming down your cheeks.

"Joel, please, please, baby. I need it so bad. I'll be good," you were sobbing out, gasps leaving you as his hips pounded away.

"Not yet. Wait for me," he huffed, bringing the toy down to your clit just above where you were connected.

You were surprised the neighbors didn't call Tommy to come check on you guys from the scream you let out, and you were grateful that the old house contained house well.

He rubbed the vibrating toy in circles against your clit until he was close, his balls drawing up with his impending orgasm.

"Let it go, baby, now," he groaned.

He didn't have to tell you twice, your pussy clenching tight around him as you came. Your vision blacked out for just a moment with the force of your orgasm, and you felt the warmth of Joel letting go as well, flooding your pussy with his release.

He kept the toy against your pussy as you came down, shaking through your aftershocks until you couldn't take it anymore.

Moments later, the vibrator was turned off and tossed onto the bedside table, your wrists and ankles released. You relaxed onto the bed as Joel collapsed beside you.

You curled up into him, his arms coming around you now to hold you to him.

"You're a little shit, you know that?" he asked, smiling down at you.

You couldn't help but smile sleepily up at him.

"Your little shit, though." you told him.

He kissed your forehead.

"Think you learned your lesson?" he asked, and you couldn't help but smirk.

"Not one but, old man."