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OMG HIIIII I HAVE A REQUESTTTTT
I LOVE UR STORIES
So imagine Fem reader just going through her closet throwing out old things along with miguel and she finds an old shoebox of hers opens it and its her retired vibrator and pink dildo that she hasn’t used since she started dating Miguel and she’s looking at him awkwardly since she said that she totally threw them away so miguel gets back at her by taking the toys and making her use them
ANYWHO BYYEE THANKKZZZ
Pretty in Pink
me when you appear in my inbox, throw a smut prompt in my face and dip: ∑(; °Д°) i genuinely had fun with this request i made him speak more spanish than usual idk why lol but as always, if you don't like it, i'd be more than happy to make another one <3
Miguel x Reader, Smut, Word Count: 2,777
You stare up into your messy closet; old clothes, old photos and yearbooks and maybe some plastic shopping bags you forgot about were all scattered inside. Hands on your hips, you blink at the cluttered mess while Miguel is behind you and crosses his arms with an unamused look. “You really let it get this bad?” He asks, looking down at you. Miguel had called to say he wanted to see you but you told him it was cleaning day for you and you decided to deep clean. He assured you he still wanted to come over and even help you but when he arrived he wasn’t expecting to see how even the smallest places needed organizing. Life got in the way, you told him. You shrug and let out a deep sigh. “Just help me.” You grunt with a roll of your eyes and go on your tiptoes to reach the top shelf in your closet. There was a big heavy box filled with god-knows-what and you huffed as you slammed it down on your bed. Miguel takes a peek through it while your hands empty out the contents. A two year old angel halloween costume, childhood belongings for sentimental value and a local shopping bag that held your graduation gown. “How do you even still have these?” Miguel scoffs a laugh while he digs through with you, picking up a stack of old movie tickets you used to collect. You snatch the wad of crumbled tickets back with a pout on your face. “They have sentimental value.” Miguel chuckles and teasingly pinches the tip of your nose. “I know but stop being a hoarder. C’mon. Pick what you wanna keep and pick what you don’t. I’ll get a trash bag for the stuff you don’t want.” Miguel then steps out of the room, leaving you alone to set up two piles. You huffed out a big sigh and got to work. Carefully, you picked things one by one to decide if you really needed it.
Some old shirts that didn't fit you were tossed in the don't want pile and the cute headband you thought you lost was placed in the keep pile. Any other things like some old bags or trinkets you grew out of were placed in a different pile on the floor for trash. When the top shelf was fairly cleaned out, Miguel came back with two large black trash bags and began helping you stuff the things away for donation, trash or something along those lines. You then sat on your knees to start on the floor area of the closet, picking out shoes that were too small now and tossing them to Miguel. You reached for a small shoe box in the corner and opened it up to see if any shoes inside were still usable. You didn’t expect to see a matching set of your old baby pink vibrator and hot pink dildo catching dust inside. You gagged on your own spit in surprise, feeling the color drain from your face. You were sure you threw it out. You didn’t need them anymore, not since your first time with Miguel just a little over a year and a half ago. “What’s that?” You hear Miguel peek over you, curious since you stopped handing him things. You slam the shoebox shut. “Nothing!” But he had already seen it. “It’s nothing–haha.” You strained, standing up to open the trash bag Miguel brought to throw it in there but he stops your wrist. With his other hand he takes the box and you screech, trying to take it back. He lifts it open and inside are the familiar toys he’d seen before.
He remembered assuring you that you didn’t need them anymore–not with him around. So he made you promise something to him that day. He made you promise to throw it away after you both had sex; that while you had him, no flimsy toy could ever satisfy you like he could. You kept most of that promise. You really hadn’t picked them up since, you just forgot to actually throw them out. “I thought I told you to trash these.” He glared down at you. You pause reaching for the box, your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water as you try to excuse yourself. “I-I did—I was!” You stutter and feel yourself get smaller and panic when he cocks an eyebrow up. “I haven’t used them!” “At all?” “At all.” You grip around his forearm, hoping he wouldn’t be pissed you broke your promise. He glances back down into the box, the sight of it pissing him off. “Sit.” And so you sat on your bed, looking up at Miguel. Miguel picks up the small baby pink bullet vibrator in his hand. He turns it around to find the button and playfully clicks through the different settings. The buzz of the bullet makes your face burn, slightly angry and embarrassed how he’s just fucking around. “Okay, I get it! I’m sorry–just throw it out.” You groan and reach for it again but he snaps his head to glare down at you and you freeze. His eyes narrowed. “How’d you like it?” He asks, turning to face you, your eyes meeting his stomach before you look up.
“Huh?” You ask. He presses through the settings again as if guessing. “Did you like it slow?” He clicks to the first vibration. “Or maybe fast?” He hums as he clicks to the fifth vibration. He guesses you like it faster. You’re stumped. You weren’t sure where he was going with this. You don’t think he’s angry but he’s quiet–there’s something about him that’s changing the shift in your conversation. You cross your legs together when you hear the small buzz increasing. “Fast,” You mutter. “Start at one or two then to three or four.” You look away from him playing with your old toys, your heart speeding up at the sight of the two things that gave you pleasure these past few years. Miguel tosses the box on the bed. You yelp when Miguel pushes you down onto the bed, his knee already forcing your legs apart. You gape up at him, open mouthed in shock when the look on his face is more sinister, head full of ideas of what he’s planning to do. It makes you gulp nervously. “How ‘bout I try them out? You let me know if they’re just as good as me, yeah?”
“Huh?” You squeak out and before you know it, Miguel crashes his lips onto yours. Your eyes flutter close and your hands find purchase in his hair, a dance the two of you knew like the back of your hand. His tongue easily slips through to the inside of your mouth, entangling itself with your own tongue. You moan and roll your eyes back, kissing his back with equal fervor. You buck your hips up to grind yourself on his knee, you can already feel yourself getting wet. He helps alleviate that pressure by rubbing his knee to your aching pussy and you sigh in relief. His left hand holds your waist then moves up your body to cup a tit in his hand that makes you moan his name between kisses. Miguel then slides that hand under your shirt, lifting it up to show your bra. His kisses don't relent up, instead pushing your bra up to reveal your breasts to him and freeing them from confinement. He massages your breast in one hand and ghosts his thumb over your nipple, feeling it harden from the soft touch. Miguel moves his hand to tug your pants down and you lift your hips up to help him rip them off. He clicks the button of the vibrator and ever so gently presses it against your clothed cunt, the small wet patch making it easier to feel through the fabric. You jolt from the buzz, gasping and holding onto Miguel’s wrist. He rips your hand off and collects both of them to pin them above your head. Just one hand from him is enough to render you helpless. He then pushes your panties aside to slip the vibrator right on your clit. You choked on a gasp and tried to pry your hands away from him but he wouldn’t lend up. Your hips squirmed around to try and get away from the sudden stimulation. “I bet you missed this feeling, huh? Is it better than my cock?” He hums against your neck. You shake your head, your face burning up with desire. “N-no…” You whined, nothing was as good as Miguel but he tsks under his breath.
“No? But look at you making a mess on it already. I barely even started.” He whispers, leaning up to bite your earlobe and you moan. His voice had gotten deeper, more husky–just how you liked it. He rubs it gently, applying pressure a few times to find the spot that hits your nerves. You moaned his name when he found the exact point and he began circling around your swollen nub. His action made you jump from pleasure, the shock of it hitting your chest and down to your pussy. “Un poco de vibración y ya estás mojadita en mi mano.” He murmurs, clicking the bullet to a faster pace. You writhe and struggle between deciding to close or open your legs. Miguel struggles to keep the small bullet in his hand, the toy being incredibly tiny compared to his large fingers especially when it was wet from your cunt. Growing frustrated, Miguel pulls the vibrator off your clit making you whimper. He lugs your nimble body up and he moves to lay back against the headboard laying you to rest against his chest. You can feel his strained cock behind you but you barely have time to properly register it before he places your familiar hot pink dildo in front of you. “Muestrame cómo lo usaste antes.” He brushes his lips behind your ear. He helps you hold onto the base of it and you weakly look up at him with a lustful and dazed hum. “Miggy…” You whimper.
“Hazlo.” He growls as he places the silicon tip at your weeping entrance. He rubs the girth of it between your folds to lube it up, especially at its tip. He then lets go of your hand to move up to your breast and starts fondling the round flesh in his palm, using his fingers to roll and flick the nub. It sparks pleasure to your stomach and you bite your lip. You take a firm grip around the dildo and slide it inside your folds, your pussy sucking up the toy into its walls slowly. You moan and lean your head on Miguel’s shoulder. He leans down to nibble on your neck, his canines catching your flesh in between them as he suckles gently while playing with your perky tits. Miguel’s left hand holds the baby pink vibrator and he sets it at its lowest setting before placing it over your clit again. You gasp and arch your back off of Miguel’s chest, bucking your hips to meet the vibrator which makes you also shove the dildo further inside your cunt. “Hnngh! Mig–uel!” You mewled, closing your eyes as you submit to ecstasy. Miguel chuckles, kissing your jaw. “Que te pasa? I’m barely doing a thing. That’s all you, mami.” He rubs the toy around your swollen clit while you pump the dildo in and out of you. Your hips thrust in time with your hand with the vibrator slipping and even smearing your juices from around your labia. Miguel turns up the speed of the buzzing and you let out a high-pitched moan. “No–no, please–” You squeal. “Wait–wait…” You pleaded and grabbed his wrist but Miguel didn't budge. “I thought you liked it fast.” He teased.
“‘s..’s too much…” You mutter, slowing down the dildo into soft long strokes, fucking it up into yourself to hit that sweet spot Miguel always hits. Even with a toy, you’re thinking of him. Miguel pulls on your hardened nipple and you cry out, clenching on the dildo. “Too much?” He scoffs. “You’ve taken a lot more, nena. C’mon, make it faster just how you like it, yeah?” He mutters, moving your hand off the silicon to replace it with his. With your hand now free, you reach up and behind you to grab onto Miguel’s locks. Miguel then pumps the dildo deeper inside you causing you to scream and pull on his hair, bucking your hips against the toy. “Miggy, Miggy–!” You whined, looking down at the sight of his hands using the pretty pink set of adult toys filling and playing with your wet pussy. “Oh, fuck…” You groan, thrusting yourself wildly onto the silicon. “More…” He smirks. “There she is.” He groans and clicks the vibrator to a higher setting, the buzz becoming louder as it surrounds your sensitive clit and folds, the dildo pounding into your cunt at a fast yet hard pace. It was like Miguel was fucking you with his cock himself. “Is it better than me, mami? Did you miss stuffing these inside you?” He murmurs against your ear as he continues to thrust it inside you, slipping the vibrator in circles and pressing it against your puffy entrance.
You shake your head while sweat beads down your forehead. “No…” You whined. Miguel doesn’t believe you. “No? Should I stop?” He slowed his hand down and was about to turn off the buzzing bullet when you squealed and grabbed his wrist tightly to stop him. “Don’t stop.” You pleaded, panting since you finally got the chance to regulate your breathing. Miguel tuts in disapproval. “It’s only good when you do it…” You murmured and his smirk grew back on his lips. “Oh yeah?” He kisses your cheek, slowly starting up his pace again, staring at the way your slick glistens against the hot pink color. You relax on his back again, stuttering your hips as they thrust up. “Mhm..” You moan and gasp when he pounds the toy into you, its soft balls slapping against you. In the middle of fucking you with your own toy, Miguel’s hand gets drenched with the overwhelming amount of juices that you leaked out of your wet pussy. He resists the urge to rip the dildo out from you and dive between your legs for a taste. He settles for licking his chapped lips instead and fucks it into you faster. Your body begins sweating profusely, squirming about as you try to reach your high as fast as you could. Miguel presses the vibrator at a faster pace and you screech, your nails digging into his skin. Your face scrunches up in pleasure and your breathing becomes uneven, panting heavy breaths as your mind gets clouded with the goal of cumming.
“Already close, mama? Go ahead.” He urged you further to your release. He watched as he hands made quick work to fuck and please you, bewitched with how perky your nipples got and how your body bounced and grinded on some plastic dick. “Miguel, harder…” You whined, spreading your legs further apart. With a kiss to your neck, he thrusts the dildo into you and clicks the vibrator to its highest setting, shocking your nerves and getting the breath knocked out of you as it makes you see stars. You screech out a high pitched moan, stilling and shaking your legs while your pussy clamps on the toy and drenches it in your cum. Miguel slips it out with a wet shlick and sets the vibrator to a lower setting to ease out your orgasm. With now one hand free, he wraps his arm around you and cups your left breast, giving it a small squeeze before pushing your bra back down over them. He kisses along your neck and jaw, murmuring praises to you. “Así es, hiciste bien…” He whispers as you slowly come out from the haze. You pant softly and twitch when the vibrator buzzes on your now sensitive clit. Miguel turns it off quickly and sets it to the side with the dildo and rubs your inner thighs comfortingly. You hum and lean back against him, catching your breath as your cheeks slowly stop burning as well. “Do you still wanna keep them?” He kisses along your neck, feeling your blood pump through your veins. You gaze over at the box and to the abandoned toys to the side. “Maybe the vibrator. The dildo wasn’t big enough.”
A/N: how r we feeling ? ┗(・ω・;)┛
#nonie requests ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara x y/n#miguel o'hara x you#miguel x reader#atsv miguel#miguel o'hara#miguel spiderman#miguel spiderverse#miguel ohara#spiderman 2099#miguel o'hara smut
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how to get your room organized and keep it organized
i understand organizing can be intimidating so i wanted to write a little guide to help.
clean your area
clean off surfaces, make your bed, pick up anything on the floor, throw away trash, etc. you'll probably do this again but this pre clean will help the post clean alot easier
if you need to wash your clothes or sheets, do that while you clean, gather everything you need to clean as well.
declutter / organize
start by sections of your room
closet
if you start with your closet, take all your clothes out and have three sections. keep, maybe and donate. organize your clothes by type and color, so short sleeve by color, long sleeve by color. put away any summer or out of season clothes you still have out and while you are at it, sort out your out of season clothes as well. organize your closet with bins, closet organizers and shoe racks if needed. for the maybe pile, hang them in the front of your closet so its the first thing you see when you pick an outfit, try to wear them the next time you get ready and if you dont feel confident in it, dont feel comfortable or you want to wear another outfit then its time to let it go. do the same for your dressers as well.
desk/vanity
declutter each drawer one by one. start with one drawer/ shelf and once you declutter and organize that drawer/shelf, move on to the next.
under bed
if you can keep under your bed space clear do that but if not, get some containers and organize whatever you need to put under there.
personally, i like to be a minimalist in my parts of my life. like my desk, i dont like having so much stationary. i dont use so much stationary for school and i have my essentials so i keep that. i dont buy more stationary unless i need to restock. for my wardrobe, im currently building my signature look but i also dont like to have an overstock of the same thing unless i know i will wear it and its my favorite thing. i keep surfaces as clear as i can but also having cute minimal decor.
keeping clean and organized
have a cleaning schedule you stick to, have a set day you wash and deep clean. tidy 5 minutes everyday. put away things that arent in their place, pick up whatever is on the floor, make your bed, fold and put away clothes as soon as its out the dryer. if you are watching a show or video and a commercial comes on, use it to clean. always take any dishes or trash when you go out of your room. wipe down surfaces every few days. doing these small up keeps will make deep cleaning easier.
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My friend felt overwhelmed by getting things cleaned up so here’s some tips for cleaning & organization for people who are not organized:
Do the biggest job first, you’ll feel accomplished & all the rest will feel easier after that.
Take a break & have a snack. Time it so you don’t get stuck when you stop.
If you have an overwhelming mess, start by breaking the problem into small piles. Then, you can tackle each of the piles more easily. Piles are categories: clean laundry, dirty laundry, trash, papers, electronics, etc.
If the entire home feels like a wreck, start in the bedroom, then do the kitchen. It’s important to have a place to rest & fuel to get things done.
Work top down. After handling piles, I always dust, clean mirrors, wipe surfaces, then handle the floors. This will prevent you from having to redo work!
Keep a “get rid of” bag somewhere out of the way. I have a bag behind my bedroom door which typically stays open, when you come across something that is ill-fitting, not your style, or simply unwanted & in the way, toss it in the bag. This prevents unwanted items from recirculating with minimal effort. Drop it off to donate when it’s full.
Everything should have a home. It’s a lot easier to tidy when you know where things live. If I use it regularly, it’s on the counter or in a top shelf, easy to access & put away. Items used less often can be stored in cabinets or harder to access drawers.
Always go through your closet when you have a lot of laundry to do. Anything in need of wash is something you wear! Then you can evaluate the hanging items with less work.
Bins are your friend, but use with caution! If you’re not the kind of person who wants to fold underwear or socks, or neatly line up stuffed animals, a bin is a great solution. Bins are not great solutions for things like electronics or paperwork, that’s where it gets dangerous. A poorly implemented bin is just a future problem waiting to happen.
Keep things off the floor. Stuff on the floor just makes it harder to clean & tends to be overlooked more easily. Plus, tripping hazard.
If you have trouble staying on top of laundry, get a bin with a lid. When the lid doesn’t close it’s time to do laundry. Also, you can put clothes away while watching a show, makes it less painful.
Make it easy on yourself! You don’t need to suffer through cleaning if you don’t have to. If you’re short get a duster with a long handle, if your sinks & tubs are a pain to clean spring for a magic eraser, if you have a surface that’s textured & a pain to wipe down regularly slap some laminated contact paper on that bitch, if you have knickknacks that get dusty & make you want to avoid cleaning them you can put them in a shadow box (I got mine from goodwill for $7 so I could display my lightbulb collection without going mad). I don’t like touching wet food on dishes, so I got a scrubber with a long handle. Think of what you hate cleaning & ways to make that easier.
If you can, reset even a little before bed. It feels good to wake up to dishes in the sink instead of spread around the house if I was too tired to wash them the night before. I’m more inclined to wash them if they’re already gathered vs making it a two step process.
Dedicate a weekday to tidy. I usually don’t want to tidy on the weekend, so I do a general clean (throw in laundry, dust, sweep, flip laundry, mop/vacuum, put away laundry) on Thursdays.
Be nice to yourself! A lot of friends who are dealing with a mess are unnecessarily mean to themselves about it. The mantra is, “a little is better than none at all” you got this!
Hope this helps!!
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10 tips for cleaning a messy room during/after a depressive episode...
1. Set a realistic time goal for completion. I set a goal to have it cleaned by the end of the week. That way I could take my time and not put too much pressure on myself to get it done in a short amount of time
2. Get bins or bags to sort things into. I had a trash bag, a donation bag, a dirty clothes bag, a clean clothes bag, and a knickknack/"TF is this" bag. It really helped keep me organized so I wasn't just moving piles from one place to another.
3. Use the pomodoro method. Set a timer for 30 mins, put on some hype music and start at one corner and work your way to the opposite corner. Throw things into the bags as you work your way down. Rest for at least 15 mins then start the timer again.You can also put on a timer and just pick up clothes or just pick up trash for 30 mins.
4. When bags get full, move them out of your line of sight so you can see the progress being made. I put mine in the hallway
5. Find a body-double friend. I call a friend and we talk shit for a good hour or so as I clean. The cleaning becomes mindless and I forget I'm actually doing it.
6. Once things are off the ground, pick a bag and get to folding and hanging. I folded a bunch of clothes, put the hanging stuff to the side then put everything up. This also helped me get rid of things I can no longer fit and helped me bag up summer clothes for storage.
7. Put the donation bags in the damn car, not the trunk, but where you can see them. Some folks say throw them away, I can't do that as someone who lives off hand me downs and donations since I was a child.
8. Sort the "TF is this stuff" bag and really ask yourself if you actually need to keep it. Put all the yes stuff up immediately. Everything else...toss it.
9. Put on clean bed linens, vacuum, and light a candle. I also cleansed the air with a lavender/rosemary incense. (Make sure you open a window...if you’re windows open)
10. Sit down, take some deep breaths, and bask in your hard work.
Anymore tips y'all can give someone struggling would be greatly appreciated! Let's help each remove the stigma of depression by talking about it openly.
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Journal 6- Field Trip 4
Waste to Energy Facility
My experience at the Lee County Waste to Energy Facility was unique. I learned the importance of prioritizing throwing away trash/waste to where it belongs. The important reason is because if we do. It protects our Earth, environment, ecosystem, etc. That keeps our Earth as healthy as possible and prioritizing that is crucial because we are the only planet with living organisms.
To begin with, there is a statistic that per person, one ton of trash is generated per year. That is an average of 4.4 pounds per day. The importance of four-to-five R's is important, which is to reduce, reuse, recycle, and recover/rethink. Reducing requires making smarter choices about what we consume and ways we try to sustain it as long as we can. To reuse, we repair, share, sell, barter, and buy second-hand. There are many ways we can do this, and for example, we can donate clothing, supplies, and other things that we don't use. Instead of throwing it in the trash, we reuse and pass it along, which helps our ecosystem. Recycling is important by making sure we recycle the appropriate items in the recycling bin/trash. The reason this is important is because throwing away things that aren't recyclable in the trash affects the recyclable items, so throwing trash into the trash is important. To recover is to recognize your waste for the resource that it is and dispose of it properly. With that being said, we must throw the trash where it belongs instead of littering and throwing it away where it doesn't belong. To rethink, everyone has to reconsider their decisions to reuse, reduce, recycle, recover, and make sure we all make the right decision within those circumstances.
At the facility, I learned about the recycling plant and its importance. The recycling plant is a mechanical, electronic & manual separation of materials to sell to manufacturers. All residential recycling goes to the Material Recovery Facility. The importance of this is that when we recycle, those items can be reused to make things we need. Recycling helps save trees and other important environmental things that don't have to be taken down to recreate our daily supply. With the recycling plant, it is important we throw away bags in the trash and not recycle them because those bags can affect the recycling plant. system.
The construction & demolition facility (C&D) is an important system that's in the Lee County Waste & Energy facility. The C & D facility represents 1/3 of all waste generated, such as landfill, drywall, dock pilings, PVC, asphalt shingles recovered, clean wood, metal, concrete, RSM, rigid plastic, cardboard, etc. The importance of this system is, in a way, how the Lee County facility generates its money because it sells things items that are recycled to businesses. The system helps with the facility in a way that this facility helps maintain our Earth. The yard waste has over 122,000 tons of processed; this waste can be reused, so if anyone is interested, there is a facility that provides this for free in the Lee County Area. We learned the importance of tires back in the day. Tire changes require new ones every 10k miles; nowadays, tires can last up to 50k miles before new ones, which helps preserve tire waste and the effect it has on the Lee County Waste Facility and the Earth as a whole. The facility functions with water and power, so this helps save that.
The consequences for littering and placing trash in areas that it doesn't belong are severe and is something not many people know. It depends on how much is littered it can be as bad as a 3rd degree felony and the dumping costs everyone money. Sustainability in Lee County is the leader in all North America because that county prioritizes it higher than everyone else. We as a world need to reach that level and that is something that is controllable by us humans. The sustainability this does helps future generations for however long the world exists. This helps meet our own needs without compromising the ability of future generations to meet their needs which helps save our planet.
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10 tips for cleaning a messy room during/after a depressive episode...
1. Set a realistic time goal for completion. I set a goal to have it cleaned by the end of the week. That way I could take my time and not put too much pressure on myself to get it done in a short amount of time
2. Get bins or bags to sort things into. I had a trash bag, a donation bag, a dirty clothes bag, a clean clothes bag, and a knickknack/"TF is this" bag. It really helped keep me organized so I wasn't just moving piles from one place to another.
3. Use the pomodoro method. Set a timer for 30 mins, put on some hype music and start at one corner and work your way to the opposite corner. Throw things into the bags as you work your way down. Rest for at least 15 mins then start the timer again.You can also put on a timer and just pick up clothes or just pick up trash for 30 mins.
4. When bags get full, move them out of your line of sight so you can see the progress being made. I put mine in the hallway
5. Find a body-double friend. I call my girl Tamika and we talk shit for a good hour or so as I clean. The cleaning becomes mindless and I forget I'm actually doing it.
6. Once things are off the ground, pick a bag and get to folding and hanging. I folded a bunch of clothes, put the hanging stuff to the side then put everything up. This also helped me get rid of things Gia and I can no longer fit and helped me bag up summer clothes for storage.
7. Put the donation bags in the damn car, not the trunk, but where you can see them. Some folks say throw them away, I can't do that as someone who lives off hand me downs and donations for Gia.
8. Sort the "TF is this stuff" bag and really ask yourself if you actually need to keep it. Put all the yes stuff up immediately. Everything else...toss it.
9. Put on clean bed linens, vacuum, and light a candle. I also cleansed the air with a lavender/rosemary wand. (Make sure you open a window...iykyk)
10. Sit down, take some deep breaths, and bask in your hard work.
Anymore tips y'all can give someone struggling would be greatly appreciated! Let's help each remove the stigma of depression by talking about it openly.
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a group selfie with the boyes
#ghh my roots are grown out so far that you can't even see the blue parts of my hair lol#anyway it's New Year babey time#(not referencing me.. i am not very babey.. but THEM on the other hand... very big babey children..)#i haven't posted anything lately or even been woking on any of my projects because I've been so busy cleaning lol#I like to do 'spring cleaning' type stuff except around new years which always takes a lot longer than I think so#like the past 3 days I've been spending 8 - 9.5 hrs a day just sorting things. not even clean-cleaning as in wiping stuff down#or washing or dusting but more just like.. sorting?? stuff like 'oh some of the paints in my pain drawer are dried out#I should throw them away. I have to test markers/pens and if theyre dried out get rid of them. re-sort the bookshelf and throw away or donat#anything I don't need. go through all clothing and items and posessions and see how much of it I can donate/give away . find all#my old folders of wroldbuilding stuff and sort them into categories and put them away or throw them away. etc. etc. including like I have#some keepsakes and old papers and stuff from like#as far back as when I was 8 years old so I go through those things a bit too. etc.#ESPECIlALLY sorting all of my lists. I make myself little sticky notes and stuff constantly and never revisit them so I have like#a pile on my floor right now of probably 40+ little notes and papers that all just say things like 'look up this book!' or 'remember to#think about this!' 'look up this website it could be useful!' etc. etc.#Not even counting things online that I'd like to do. such as clear out my likes/messages/etc. on any social media. go through all old posts#and delete any that I just don't care for any more/art I've since decided is bad/photos I now think are unflattering in the future where I#have more common sense/etc. .. AND ideally I'd like to organize and delete some of the bookmarks on my browser but I will put that#off because I probably have HUNDREDS and that would take literaly a day and a half or something lol#which like always when I'm ignoring art and etc. I feel productive and unproductive at the same time. My mind is so preoccupied with my#projects and game and writing and etc. that if I'm not getting THOSE THINGS SPECIFICALLY done it feels like I'm doing nothing#and everything is useless and I've been completely unproducive and wasted my time which is like.. okay.. but you literally just cleaned the#house and sorted things for 9 hours.. that IS productive.. but brain is like 'No!!! If It's Not These THREE Single Permitted Activities#Then It Does Not Count!!!' . Like writing or making a sculpture for 2 hours is inherently more productive than cleaning and#organizing for 18 hours could ever be.. somehow lol.. aa! but anyway.. I have been.. Apbsent.. I'd like to say maybe I'll get better at#using social media and being consistent and etc. in 2020 but.. that would likely be a promise proven false hgh#all hermits like me know how to do is not understand social media. eat hot chip. and lie
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Saving Tips for Hard Times
I found this old document where I collected a series of tips to save money. This is all part of my experience of when I was near homeless, and some work depending on where you live, some don’t. Here we go.
BILLS:
1. The optimum temperature for refrigerator operation is 5°C, and -18°C for freezer operation. As a rule of thumb, for each additional degree of refrigeration output about six percent more electricity is used.
2. Unplug your appliances. Lamps, microwave, tv, computers etc. They don't need to be plugged until you use them, and it saves energy to keep them unplugged. Therefore, money.
3. Do homework for phone companies and internet plans. Call them! Often they are toll free and if you mentioned that you were already with them or thinking of going with them and then found out another company had a better deal, they could offer you deals for lower prices. I had to do it all the time for my phone, until they couldn't really offer anything better.
4. BIKE. Invest in a used bike if you can, especially for the warmer months. It offsets the transit costs and better your health.
5. WALK. That's the same as the bike, honestly.
6. Pay your bills on time, you will avoid late fees which can up to HUNDREDS of dollars wasted over the course of a year. If you can, set up automatic payments so you don’t forget.
FRIDGE:
1. Every time the refrigerator door is opened, cold air escapes and warm ambient air enters. To compensate for the temperature increase in its interior, the refrigerator must then use energy to bring the temperature back down. Always avoid opening the door unnecessarily and for too long.
2. When defrosting frozen food place it in the refrigerator. Not only does this ensure that the food is carefully defrosted, its presence cools down the refrigerator interior, reducing the amount of work that the compressor has to do, and therefore lowering energy consumption.
3. Never put warm food in the refrigerator as this will heat up the interior, as well as other stored foods. Hot food should always be allowed to cool to room temperature before placing it in the refrigerator
MONEY:
1. Keep all the containers like glass bottles, juice bottles, jars, cans etc. Look for your Return-It depot and have trips to return them. They give back coins for laundry, small expenses etc
2. Use that junk mail. Go through it, find coupons for food, for essentials like toilet paper or shampoo.
3. CHECK. THAT. DOLLARSTORE. They often have things like pasta, ketchup, toilet paper, batteries etc for literally 1 dollar. Pasta is pasta, toilet paper is toilet paper. Seriously. Don't need to spend 5$ on a shampoo bottle when you can have it for 1/5 of the price.
4. Do homework and check with different banks for which one offers a better plan. Some of them are willing to help out. Sit down with their advisors, find the best solution!
5. Use the envelope system! For example, one envelope with a label “food” the other with “entertainment” the other with “bills”. Then set the right amount of cash for each. That’s what you’re allowed to spend each month. If you realize you need more for food, grab it from the entertainment envelope. Adapt and arrange as needed.
6. If you can, set up an automatic saving (example 50$ every paycheck) for both regular saving AND an emergency fund.
7. Use the 24-Hour Rule. Avoid purchasing expensive or unnecessary items on impulse with a self-imposed 24-hour rule. For any non-essential item, wait 24 hours before purchasing. It’s perfect for online shopping where your items can simply be added to your cart to purchase later.
8. Make a grocery list BEFORE going to the grocery store and STICK to it. You’re going to avoid buying things you don’t really need.
9. DO. NOT. SHOP. WHILE. YOU. ARE. HUNGRY. Or you’ll end up buying food that you actually don’t need just because you feel snacky!
10. Only use ATMs from your bank, or you get charged small fees.
11. Set a ���No Spend Day” per week, where you consciously DO NOT spend any money for that day.
12. Ditch the paper: Cutting out paper towels and using cloths and napkins that you can simply wash and reuse is a simple way to save.
13. After you wear clothes, hang them outside your wardrobe, on a door or something. You can air them out a bit, then stick them in the closet without washing. You can basically reuse the same clothes two or three times without having to wash them, sometimes they just need a bit of air and they won’t smell AT ALL.
14. If you don’t own or want to spend money on an iron, hang whatever blouse you need to iron in the bathroom while you shower. The steam will humidify the fabric and straighten it up.
15. Hang stuff to dry. Really don’t need to spend money on the dryer.
16. Sign up to the library. They have so many books and DVDs nowadays. You can also just go, sit at the library and stay warm for a while, so that you don’t have to sit at home and either suffer the cold or use money on your own heat.
17. Budget, budget, budget. Get a lil notebook, write down the monthly expenses, cut what you don’t need. It gets easier with time.
FOOD:
1. Make a meal plan. Write 10-14 days worth of dishes that you can do (lunch, dinner, everything you need). You can then toss them around as you go on with your week, but that way you have a pretty clear idea of what you use and the food you go through for how long. It also reduces the risks of getting take out since you already have plans for what to eat.
2. Cook double! Seriously. Make that dinner and double it up. Leftovers can be frozen or put in the fridge for the day after.
3. Meal prep. Once a week, prep a bunch of different recipes. Let them cool down, stick them in the freezer. At that point you’ll already have all these meals at the ready to just thaw/microwave or oven up.
4. You don’t need pop. You don’t need alcohol. You most likely don’t need milk, but go for it if you wanna. Just remember dairy products go bad WAY more quickly than non dairies, so consider getting food and drinks with no dairy in them. Mainly, though. Water. Just drink water. Lots of it too! Sometimes our brain can’t tell the difference between hunger and thirst. You think you’re snacky? Drink some water instead! It’ll quell your hunger.
5. Freeze fruit! If you think you’re not gonna be able to eat fruit in time, put it in a Tupperware or a ziplock and slap it in the freezer. You’ll be able to then use it for smoothies.
6. Use the Italian saying “Colazione da re, pranzo da nobili, cena da poveri.” Which quite literally means “Breakfast as a king, lunch as a noble, dinner as a poor.” Breakfast should be very filling, carbs, protein, vitamins. It carries you for the whole day. Lunch should be quite filling too! But supper doesn’t really need a lot of it, and if you REALLY have to skip a meal, skip supper. Your body doesn’t need that much sustenance while sleeping.
7. This is for the desperate times but I’ve done it, and I would do it again if I ever had to. Go to markets that have like… Fruits and veggies. Talk to them. Ask them “HEY, can I have the fruit/veggie that you have to throw away?” Ask them if you can have the ugly produce, the one that doesn’t look pretty enough to be put out. Or ask them to have whatever extra they have to dump because is past the expiry date. EXPIRY DATE IS USUALLY MUCH LONGER THAN WHAT THE LABEL SAYS. I wouldn’t risk it with dairy stuff or with things that are VERY expired, but one or two days? Totally fine, I promise. And if you have to? Dumpster Dive. Especially at markets with fruit and veggies that have to be sold on the same day (because it’s not considered “fresh” past that day.) Or behind pizza places like Dominos or Panago or whatever chain. They get pizza orders wrong all the time. Just give a peak behind these buildings and look inside their boxes. You have no idea how many times I found perfectly fine pizzas. For free! IF YOU DUMPSTER DIVE, MAKE SURE YOU HAVE GLOVES, A MASK AND PLASTIC BAGS TO PUT YOUR STUFF IN. ONCE AT HOME, DISCARD GLOVES AND WASH PRODUCE THROUGHLY. Also check tumblr for your divers community, they usually know the best spots.
CLOTHES:
1. Thrift shop! So many GOOD used clothes are out there! Honestly! My whole wardrobe is thrifted and everything looks brand new. It takes a bit of research and maybe that shirt you liked is not in your size, but you can find EVERYTHING, from socks to bras, at a thrift store. Don’t thrift underwear though. You want to go new with those.
2. Invest in some needle and thread, then open youtube. There are SO MANY tutorials that teach you how to mend holes in socks and underwear. And really, no one will really notice if a mend is perfectly done or not. After a week, you’ll forget it too! But that prevents you from throwing away clothes that could just be mended a little.
3. Something doesn’t fit you? Too small, too big? YouTube, homie. They have tutorials on how to fix these kinda things! All you need, again, is needle and thread.
4. Organize clothes swaps with friends and/or neighbors. Everyone brings clothes they don’t need, put them in a pile. Go through the pile and grab whatever there is. There’s no money exchange, one could go home with 1 item and one could go home with 50 items. Who cares? The extra stuff… DONATE IT TO A SHELTER.
Feel free to add more, and stay safe!
#saving#saving tips#saving tip#money management#savings#small savings#homeless#saving account#my tips#signal boost#thrifting#dumpster diving#recycle#creative reuse#reduce reuse recycle#reducereuserecycle
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This is so long and so angsty, and I am so sorry! Also, I took the “Music” prompt a bit loosely and based this off music lyrics? Hope that counts. Song is I Do by Wild Rivers :) @nessianweek
My sweater on your bedroom floor, you can take that // You don’t want my love no more, honey I can shake that
Cassian swallows down a sigh as he opens up the trash bag in his hands. The crinkle of it as he shakes it out is especially loud in the quiet of his bedroom, like a crack of thunder ringing in his ears. Leave it to Mor to demand that he “spring clean” and “finally get rid of that shit you hoard” only to bustle out of his apartment without even an offer to help.
The living room had been an easy place to start. The photos had been one of the first things he had removed post-breakup, so there wasn’t much left out there anyways. But his bedroom. Well, he isn’t sure the last time he'd really gone through his closet.
He opens the doors to find various clothing and items strewn about haphazardly. Some are on hangers, some are stuffed onto the shelf above, and a good chunk litter the floor. He tries to organize as he goes, pulling out and sorting through the different items to decide which to keep and which to donate. He’s sifting through the pile on the floor when his hand brushes against something soft and somehow familiar. With a tug, he comes face to face with a small cream colored sweater. The sight of it has him falling back onto his ass, his breath hitching as he runs his thumb along the cable knit pattern.
If he closes his eyes, he can see them here, see her in this very sweater. He can feel the sweater under his palms as he slides his hands over her waist, feel the delicious warmth of her skin as slips his fingers under the hem. He can hear her laughter in his ear, like a favorite song he wants to bottle up and play on loop, as he presses kisses to her neck and behind her ear.
Cassian digs the palms of his hands into his eyes like he can scrub the image from behind them, but all it does it make his chest ache. Like a damn full of splintering cracks, barely held together with tape. He can feel that familiar thickness clawing its way into his throat, and he can’t take it. He tosses the sweater into the trash bag and heads for the kitchen, desperate for a beer.
I come, you go, back around back around // I see your ghost on a train downtown
Downtown is a mess as always. All Nesta can think about is a glass of wine, the chocolate cake in her fridge that she picked up from Trader Joe’s, and the next chapter of her book waiting for her on her nightstand. But instead, she’s weaving her way through busybodies and tourists who don’t know how to stand on the right and walk on the left.
Once she gets through the crowds, she walks with practiced ease to the platform she needs, scrolling aimlessly through the array of texts from her sisters and friends from earlier today. She sends off a quick reply to Gwyn and Emerie before sliding her phone back into her bag. She turns to look at the board above the platform to check the wait time of the next train when her eyes catch on something else. Someone else.
The sight of broad shoulders and a tangle of curls corralled into a top bun has Nesta’s heart stuttering to a painful stop and clenching hard deep between her ribs. She can already feel that all too familiar prick pressing in behind her eyes, threatening release. She can practically hear his laughter from here, loud and booming and so full of life, as he throws his head back.
All it takes is one thought to send her spiraling back. Back to a calloused hand sliding against her own, fingers curled firmly around hers. Warm. Safe. It takes her back to a nose brushing against her hair at her temple, that laughter in her ear, a promise that screaming at passing trains is the best form of therapy.
Nesta has to turn away and press a hand over her mouth to keep in the choked sound trying to spill forth. When she looks back down the platform, he’s gone, and all Nesta feels is the hollowness pressing in on all sides.
It’s just a baseball cap, I ain’t even missing // And a Springsteen track, I don’t listen
Cassian’s late. He knows it. Azriel is going to kill him if he’s not out the door soon. He does another quick check around his room, pulling out drawers in his dresser and even checking under his bed. And then it hits him, a flash behind his eyes harder than a slap across the face.
It’s the hat being placed on a head of golden brown waves. It’s a soft press of lips against his own and lithe arms winding around his neck. It’s a mumble of “it looks better on me anyways” and clear eyes piercing into his own, deep and smokey blue and glinting like the roiling ocean under a setting sun.
Cassian has to clench and unclench his fists a few times to get his head right, but then he’s pulling open his closet doors and digging out a different hat to throw over his mess of hair. He snags his keys and sails out the door to his car. When he turns the key in the ignition, the radio hums to life, the familiar lyrics of Springsteen flooding out of the speakers. Cassian almost wants to laugh at his luck. It would be this song.
Even with Springsteen’s vocals blaring, all Cassian can hear is his own voice singing along, purposefully off-key, her laughter-filled pleas for him to stop as she reaches across and tries to stifle the sounds with her hand over his mouth. With a hard jam of his finger, the radio cuts out. Cassian takes a deep breath, throws the car in reverse, and drives in silence the rest of the way.
It's just an old habit, I don't gotta kick // Or your best friends' pictures, I don't check 'em
The pile of blankets atop Nesta is the only armor she needs. She curls her body and burrows deeper into them as she opens Instagram on her phone, the small rectangle the only light in her otherwise dark bedroom. She takes a few moments to scroll through the posts on her feed and click through some Stories, but there’s no beating around the bush. She knows why she’s here.
Her finger hesitates for only a moment over the search button at the bottom of her screen, but then she’s selecting it. It only takes her typing in the “A” before the page comes up, and Nesta refuses to let the shame threatening to heat her skin win at what that means. She clicks on the first picture, taking in the wide smiles, the arms slung casually over shoulders. Nesta bites her lip so hard, that tangy metallic taste floods her tongue.
She shuts her phone off abruptly, tossing it onto her nightstand before rolling over. She curls her knees up to her chest and wraps her arms tightly around herself, focusing on the phantom feel of different arms holding her close and warm breath ghosting across her shoulder. If she closes her eyes tight enough, she can feel the press against her back with each breath he took, feel the words “I love you” whispered against her spine.
Now I'm driving by the place we met // Could you go there?
Cassian’s so distracted, he doesn’t even realize he missed the turn for his apartment. He’s not even fully sure where he’s going until the familiarity starts to sink in. It’s too easy to pull up alongside and throw his car into park. At this hour, it’s all dark through the large windows, but there’s no mistaking the small wooden tables with the chairs stacked atop them. The register and the glass display case. The chalkboard declaring the seasonal drink specials in bright colors and swirling writing.
Cassian can still taste the sweetness of her drink against his tongue. Can still see her pointedly raised eyebrow and unimpressed frown like it’s branded at the molecular level of his brain. Those eyes cutting through him from the minute they locked with his own. That lilting voice of hers still ringing in his ears and asking him what he thought he was doing with her drink.
Cassian grips the steering wheel of his car until his knuckles turn white, letting his head drop until his forehead meets the leather. He takes a few deep breaths, then he’s throwing the car back into drive, letting the coffeeshop fade away in the rearview mirror.
Now you wanna talk? // Babe I don't care
“Nesta.”
It’s a simple sound. Just her name. But in that soft timbre, in that voice that Nesta’s heard rumble through his chest, it makes her blood freeze over. She knew she never should have agreed to come to this garden party. As soon as the text came through from Feyre, she should have declined. But that voice in the back of her mind, it had niggled, it had gnawed, it had climbed to the forefront, and now she’s standing in Feyre’s backyard, a cup of some sort of punch clutched between her hands and Cassian approaching her.
“You look good,” he says once in front of her.
Nesta is sure that has to be a lie. All she feels is weighed down, like every second of every day is spent trudging through thick mud. Concealer can work wonders, but it’s no miracle worker. And with him standing this close, close enough for Nesta to feel the warmth that always seemed to radiate off his frame, to smell that combination of fabric softener, cologne, and just him. All she can think about is the air stuttering through her lungs.
At her silence, Cassian clears his throat awkwardly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “So, how have you been?”
It’s casual, and Cassian throws an easy grin her way as he says it. Nesta hates it. She hates the way that he does look good. Hates the happy ease he didn’t even have to try to muster or pretend when he arrived, hugging and laughing with their families. Hates that she can tell the laughter lines around his eyes have gotten deeper.
“No,” Nesta says, turning on her heel abruptly and heading back toward the house.
She hears Cassian call after her, but she doesn’t stop. She’s surprised the whole backyard doesn’t hear the crack resounding from her chest, leaving shards of glass embedded deep in the skin.
I see you out in a bar downtown, but you look so different like you don't go thinking, but I do
Cassian watches the ice cubes bubble and clink in his glass of whiskey. He gives the glass another swirl before throwing the amber liquid back, reveling in the burn against his throat. He tosses a couple bills onto the bar-top and slides off the stool with a sigh. He turns toward the exit but his eyes catch on the other end of the bar.
Nesta is there, and Cassian’s entire body feels like it’s been set on fire as he takes her in, the gentle waves tumbling over her shoulders, the small black dress clinging to her every curve. He recognizes Gwyn and Emerie standing with her. He sees her laugh at something one of them says. Over the music and the crowds of the bar, he can't hear it, but it still rips through his chest like an arrow. Before he can even make a conscious decision, his legs are carrying him toward her, always toward her, like a ship brought home to safety by a lighthouse.
“Nesta,” Cassian says once he steps up behind her.
She turns and looks up at him, and his breath hitches in his chest all over again. His fingers itch to brush the hair away from her face, tuck it behind her ear and run the pads of his fingers through the ends. Her eyes are guarded and it makes his gut twist, urging him to press his lips against her skin until that look melts away like it used to. Maybe if he’d had another glass of whiskey he’d be feeling more brave. But the alcohol thrumming in his veins gives him enough courage to ask the question that’s been burning a hole through his head and heart.
“Do you ever think about us?” he asks, voice quiet and just for them.
A silence settles between them, but it’s charged, like even in this crowded downtown bar, everyone is holding their breath, waiting with baited anticipation. As the seconds tick by, Cassian begins to wonder if she’ll even answer, if he’s made a mistake, but then her hand is reaching up, smoothing a stray lock of hair away from his eyes.
“I do.”
#my fic#acotar#nessianweek2021#nessian#nesta x cassian#nesta archeron#cassian#to the tune of let's get loud#let's get sad let's get saaaaaadddd#I cried myself while writing this if it's any consolation
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ADHD Cleaning Strats
(or, how i finally kept my space somewhat presentable most of the time)
Getting Started
Plan to start cleaning around the time your meds kick in.
Don’t actually start cleaning. No, seriously. Get all the stuff together and prepare TO clean (eg. put all the bathroom cleaning supplies in a visible location in the bathroom)
Find a new podcast/audiobook/album/etc. that you’ve been meaning to listen to. That’s your Cleaning Dopamine Supply (tm). Here’s the important part: only listen to it while you’re actively cleaning. I mean it. If you do any not-cleaning tasks you have to pause it. It can help to have an accountability partner for this.
Schedule a task you really really don’t want to do on cleaning day. I’ve done some of my best organizing while procrastinating.
Find some sort of tangible reward to give yourself for meeting specific goals. Said goals can literally be as small or large as you want but they have to be something you think is reasonably attainable.
Tackling Big Jobs
I like to use what I call the “Pile Strategy”
Throw away all trash. Also, make a note of where trash tends to accumulate in your space! That’s where you’re going to put trash cans. The government doesn’t want you to know this, but you’re totally allowed to have 10 trash cans in one room.
Make a path so you can navigate your space safely. It does not matter where the stuff goes. Your only job is to get it out of the path however you need to.
Pick up all the clothes in the space and move them to wherever you do laundry. You don’t have to actually do that right now if you don’t want to, what’s important is getting the stuff out.
Pick a section and start sorting stuff into two piles: what’s going to stay in this room and what isn’t. Set all the stuff that doesn’t go in the room to the side. Again, doesn’t matter where as long as it’s out of the room. Rinse and repeat.
Once you’ve gotten all that extra stuff out, start moving the remaining stuff to wherever it’s going to stay. I highly recommend keeping stuff around where you’re naturally inclined to leave it if possible.
Go out and buy the biggest plastic bin you can reasonably keep in your place. That’s your new junk drawer! If you want to keep it but can’t decide where it goes, it’s going in the bin
This is the fun part! Now that everything’s where it’s supposed to be, you get to ✨organize✨ it!
Organization Tips
I’m a massive bin fan. Throwing all your stuff in pretty labeled bins takes 0 effort and makes you look like an organizing god.
It literally does not matter what system you use, just make sure it’s something you’re able to consistently maintain. If it’s too much effort to put it back that way when you’re really depressed, it’s not a functional system.
Your version of clean does not have to look like an interior design catalogue. It doesn’t even have to look clean to other people. Your goal is to make a space YOU are able to use.
Put things you need daily in highly visible places. For example, I leave my med bin right next to my bed so it’s the first thing I see when I wake up.
Don’t be afraid to downsize! It’s much easier to keep a place clean when you don’t have a bunch of stuff you don’t use regularly around. I like to move anything I don’t use at least once a month into (you guessed it) a bin for storage. I’ll keep whatever I actually remember I have and donate everything else a year or so later.
Set a day and time once a week to spend 15-30 minutes putting everything back how it is right now. I also like to do this first thing in the morning because it’ll help get my brain into ‘work mode’
#adhd#living with adhd#wrote this while waiting for an appointment to start lmao I’m so bored#long post#personal
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At 60, I am beginning to suspect I have adhd/autism. Mind you, both of my children are diagnosed such. I found this on FB and went oooooooh.
[image description: a tumblr post. i have added line breaks for readability.
user: socialist-literotica
ppl don’t understand adhd/autistic cleaning processes. we think so far ahead it’s like,,, impossible to do shit.
you want me to vaccuum my bedroom floor? okay. we need to pick up all the stuff thats on it first, though. and where are we going to put the stuff?
well, theres a couple categories of Stuff- Clothes, Random Items, and Trash. Trash is easy, we just throw it away. Clothes have to be sorted into Clean, Not Clean- and then the not clean ones have to go in the laundry bag, but theres so many so i might have to start a load now- ugh, distracted.
lets go back to the clean clothes. well, these go in my drawer but- my drawer is really disorganized, so i’ll have to organize the clothes first so that theyll fit and look neat. by the time i’m done with that, i’ve spent an hour and a half trying to do stuff in my room.
i finally turn to random items, most of which can find a home on my desk, but others i dont really know what to do with. plus, my desk is dirty. so i have to organize my desk, figure out where everything goes, and the stuff that doesn’t have a place can go in… a box, i guess. (not like i don’t have three other boxes full of random stuff in my closet)
so i put all the items back up but now i have this box full of stuff i dont know if i need so i have to go through it, sorting it into donate and dont donate piles. i might as well throw in some clothes to, so i dig through my clothes drawer and get the clothes i dont want, throw them in there too.
okay, back to the random items- the ones i dont want to donate are still here, so i have to put them somewhere. i dont have anywhere to put them- maybe i should get a shelf?
i start googling shelves, figuring out which ones would be best for my room, debating prices, learning about installation, and eventually im like ‘well, already on my computer’ and i decide im going to ‘check’ social media and end up lost in it for an hour or so.
you walk back in, and theres stuff all over the floor, albeit in bags and boxes, and it still hasnt been vacuumed. its been five hours since i started.
how does it take five hours to clean your room? it just does.
user: highground501
This post walked into my room, pointed to the three boxes of random stuff sitting in my closest right now, and then shot me.
\end i.d.]
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My name is Freya.
It was my mother’s name. Dad had no desire to continue with the Norse Mythology names tradition, so he named me after her. I remember the story and his face when he told it. There was no other way, he said.
Except for my grandmother, I never got to know the Anderson side of my family. Grandma Martha saw only eight of my birthdays. She wrote letters for me, one for each birthday she would miss. Dad always spoke very fondly of her. Him and mom could get away with barely anything, that’s how smart she was. Also, nobody could beat Grandma at chess.
Recently, I wanted to find those letters. The last one I got was on my 18th birthday. I wanted to keep the letters close and make something memorable out of them. It was the last thing left from my mother’s side, after all. I could frame or copy them, I thought.
Despite the dust allergy, I raided our attic. According to the oldest tradition of the human ways, everything from the previous household was put away after moving. Only we moved when I was ten, so the past bled into the present, by mixing together all the junk and pieces of different memories.
I sneezed up a storm that day.
And I tried to be efficient about it. I had boxes for donations, literal garbage and stuff that needed to be organized. My old toys with colors burned to white by the sunlight, no longer readable books and smelly clothes filled up the second box pretty quickly. Of course, I had to show everything to my dad, before throwing it out. Even though, after finding an ungodly amount of dead spider eggs, I was ready to empty the attic completely.
To be honest, I hated it. But the urge to keep going was strong. Fourth box prepared for valuable things, the ones filled with memories, still sat mostly empty at this point. The fear that dad got rid of everything, including Grandma’s letters, started building up slowly.
I wouldn’t blame him too much. Probably. Things weren’t good for at least the first 15 years after my mom’s death. Sometimes it’s truly best not to remember. But I don’t have much to dwell on. I don’t think I have a proper past.
Never late, always home. Never really broke a bone. Was a surprisingly feisty kid. Not much to tell about traveling or any kind of experience. I do know how to pay the bills, turn on the dishwasher and how to put up a shelf, believe it or not. Dad is a builder to the bone. He can carve a flawless spoon by hand. What would I be, if I hadn’t picked up anything after him?
My silly little life doesn’t really matter here. The point is I am boring. My hope was that I might have some interesting heritage. Nordic, considering the name? But I already don’t resemble Freyja the Goddess much. Sure, it’s the matter of people’s perception of the deity. Doesn’t help with my self-esteem though.
When 3 identical winter coats piled on the donation box, I finally reached a photo album. I didn’t recognize it. It had no cover, only pages held together by everlasting glue. I got worried while handling it. Also, I felt a bit discouraged.
Most of the pages were empty. Here and there I found photos of my mom as a college student, teenager and then a baby. I made peace with the fact that I opened the album backwards and started compiling the pictures. A lot of them were in pretty good condition, but some of them were worn. Like someone tried to keep those close, maybe in a wallet. Bleached by the sun, creased and almost torn.
The picture that included Grandma and my mom in her lap was holding its last breath. Mom was a toddler, they were in some kind of a living room I had never seen. From the first glance, I didn’t notice the first person. They caught my eye, when I was cutting out the picture’s plastic pocket.
In particular, it was half of their body. The other half was taken away by the photographer’s finger, which created a shadow. It certainly was a man, dressed in a black leather jacket and jeans. Back of the picture had letters written by an unknown hand.
M, F & O.
Who is O? My grandfather?
It had to be.
I wanted to continue my search. I was tired and letters still were nowhere to be seen. There wasn’t a single idea in my head about how I would bring down the boxes. So, I put my only findings aside, sneezed and opened the closet with one door.
Finally! The shoebox filled with Grandma’s letters. I was counting them when I heard the front door and then my dad calling out for me. I stopped at the 17th letter, but there were more than one left. Taking a mental note of it, I came down from the attic.
We always had a small ritual for when he comes home. Yellow vest off – hug on. To chase the troubles of the day away. I was never ashamed of it, even though dad did have the talk with me about being cool and how he wouldn’t be upset if we stopped hugging when he had people over. It quickly passed, mostly because we stopped having guests at the house.
That evening was like any other. Curiosity did bug me, but I managed to wait until the dinner was over. Dad told me a story about a new coworker losing a finger on his first day. Meanwhile, I crunched on baby carrots, nervously. I didn’t even understand it at the time, but now it seems very fitting.
And then, I told him about what I found. Not so carefully asked questions I had. Has he ever met his father-in-law? He didn’t answer for a few moments, silently gathering plates and finally said:
“I heard stories”.
Hesitating, he told a few facts. My grandfather and his brother had a pretty popular rock band in the 70s. For a second I thought this could be enough. A descendant of some rocker? Fine by me. But the facts kept coming.
They re-named themselves to Odin and Tor, because the band was called Asgard Gods or something. They partied hard and made decisions drunk. Right after my mom was born, something changed in Tor. He seemed weirdly proud of being a dad, but the shift happened again.
Tor and Odin moved to a farm somewhere deep in America. They started talking about weird stuff and grew more popular. After that, Martha stopped hearing from him, got mad or just lost all hope in her husband. He apparently promised the farm would be a family place.
That was more than enough. I felt conflicted. Prodigal husband and father wasn’t at all what I was looking for. Don’t know what I was expecting, but not this.
I asked dad to help me with the boxes. He was so impressed by my initiative; he didn’t even try to save the stuff I gathered for donating or to be thrown away. I was tired, but relieved. I took my letters and pictures, and just went to my room.
Firstly, I checked all the letters for tears and creases. This was when I remembered. There were more than 18 letters. I counted 4 more. 21 in total. I had my 21st birthday recently. Why haven’t I seen the last of Grandma’s letters?
Last 3 letters were opened and closed carefully, but the circle of scotch tape wasn’t reliable enough to last that long. No one but my dad could have read them. But why hide them? It made me cautious to read the letters myself.
I don’t like secrets and I am wary of surprises. Dad’s deep respect for Grandma Martha was the reason to never mention my grandfather. Who must have hurt her a lot. The mere disappearance must have been confusing and painful. Maybe that's what she wrote about?
I took some time before reading the letters one of the last members of my family left me. Maybe I idolized her all this time and those last words will break it?
Letter 19 was simple. Simple birthday wishes, some advice about taking things easy. It was a scary and confusing year for me. Grandma wrote about her own 19th year. Seamstress in training at the time, she stole a car on a dare. I would have really liked to hear that story from her.
Letter 20 was heavier. I am not sure, but I think Martha had my mom at 22. So, she could have met my grandfather already, by her own 20. In this one, she talked about adulthood a lot. How heavily and unexpectedly the world hits you with it. She tried to give some advice, but came to a realization that her advice might be outdated at this point.
The 21st letter was longer. It turned away from the birthday-themed metaphors almost completely.
The band my grandfather started with his brother was called Old Gods of Asgard. They were pretty popular, at least locally. Grandma was one of the fans, who always were in the first row. She got noticed fast enough. She got swooned even faster.
Surprisingly, Tor Anderson was a good boyfriend. At first, they all are, Grandma wrote. But parties and booze crept up to the first place soon. The wedding was small, almost jokey, but sometime after Martha stopped drinking with him.
It was hard to read. I wanted to know the truth and now I needed to face it. Rockstar for a grandfather is cool, but he was a person too. Or is he? I finished the last letter and the lights went out. I thought nothing of it and went to sleep.
I woke up to turned on lights. My heritage might be forever lost, but it never left my mind. Naturally, I turned to Google and found their music, old and new. From the first listen, nothing special. Rock music always helps when you have to work with your hands or mind. The point is, it can be really useful, no matter the theme.
Proud of my work yesterday, I found something else. A small flyer of the Old Gods of Asgard Ragnarok tour. Signed by them. The ink had almost lost its color, but I could feel the signatures with my fingers. I kept the flyer close.
I don’t remember where I read the end of my Grandma’s last letter, but it said a lot of things about how Tor got worse. Last she heard of him at the time of the letter, he was in a facility somewhere in Bright Falls, Washington.
To be honest, I got tired of it all. After finishing with the attic, I wanted to go back to sleep. I wasn’t feeling strong enough to ask my dad why he hid the last 3 letters from me. I don’t think I ever wanted to know the true life of a rockstar girlfriend or anything beside that. Maybe that's why he did it.
I started liking the Old Gods music. It had enough thought behind it. A lot of the songs were battle cries, some of them touched on love and hope. I like it all. It was a good thing to leave behind, I thought. But now, I knew they weren’t gone completely.
Valhalla is a strong name for a nursing home. The building itself looked slightly threatening and the facility itself was still growing. It had six residents, almost 20 faces of staff and a hand’s off owner, Barry Wheeler. The website had his picture and email.
I created a new letter, typed Wheeler’s address in and stopped. It was a while until I actually wrote to him. I had a hard talk with my dad, because at that point I had enough evidence to provide if I actually wanted to meet Tor. I didn’t have much money to travel, though.
Would it be worth it? I don’t look even close to my mother or grandmother, there is no basis to recognize me on. I felt alone again. At this moment in time, I knew I would be going by myself.
In the end, I did go. I am an adult, after all.
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The Man Who Stood By The Ocean
[Chapter 4]
March, 1997
"Carina, come here. I bought us some sfogliatelle."
"Coming!"
You pat your hands on your skirt as you get up,
"Mimmo! Make us some tea."
"Sì, nonno."
Walking out from the shop, you smile as you hurriedly help signore Enrico setting up the table. You told him to sit and let you do the rest, but the old man just laughed.
"My knees aren't hurt at all, carina. I want to enjoy it while it lasts."
You rolled your eyes.
The table is finally set after you placed the last plastic stool by the table, and it didn't took long before Giuseppe came with a tray on his hand. The three of you immediately took a seat and begin to indulge in the hot beverage and sweet pastry. The weather is still cold, but at least the sun has started to show itself. Signore Enrico hums lightly as he sips the tea, he seems happy that he didn't need his cane for today's walk.
The snack he bought is being placed on the old ceramic plate, it's lightly dusted with powdered sugar for extra sweetness. You took a bite, and the flaky pastry crunched before the crumbs fall onto your palm. This sfogliatelle riccia is quite sugary, but there's a hint of citrus in its cream, balancing both sugar and ricotta cheese.
You begin to enjoy your tea while looking at the busy sidewalk. The weather is nice, and it seems to put everybody in a good mood. City cars passed the street once in a while, and some passerby greeted signore Enrico when they saw him. Occasionally, some of them even had a light conversation with him about the weather.
After finished up the snack, you excuse yourself to go back to the shop.
"Why are you in such a hurry? Stay for a little longer, cara." Signore Enrico begged, "The work can wait."
"I have to go home at 5, and I want to get everything done before that." You replied, "Thank you for the snack, signore."
He doesn't seem pleased by the answer, but he didn't insist you to stay either.
"Go help her, mimmo."
Giuseppe snapped his head towards him before he protests, "But nonno, she can do it herself—"
"Ay! Non parlarmi così! Essere un gentiluomo e aiutarla." (Don't talk to me like that! Be a gentleman and help her out.)
The younger man groans, but gets up from his seat nevertheless. His old man acts out by sipping his tea, but he couldn't hide the wide grin on his face. He's messing with his grandson, and he didn't even try to cover it up. Giuseppe scowls as he reluctantly follows after you.
You were just starting your work before you hear a rustling sound. Looking over your shoulder, you spot your friend lifting up the empty boxes you'd use for later.
"Here." He muttered as he delivers the boxes, "Where should I put them?"
"Oh, just put them here." You pat the free space beside you, he immediately places them down on your command.
He watches you taking a pile of book and begin to sort them out. The first book on the pile is a thin novel, and you didn't have to read them as you place it into the tall box. The second one is a children's book with a pristine cover, so it goes to the same box. But the third one goes to the smaller box, and it's an old illustration book of flora and fauna in Italy.
"So uh..." He scratches his head, "How do I help you with the book? Do you have a specific guide on how to sort them?"
"Well, it's pretty simple." You point at the tall box, "That box is for the books we're gonna keep, and the smaller one is for donation. But this—" You reach for the shortest box, "This is for the damaged books, or any book we couldn't sell or donate."
"Huh, alright." He frowns, "How do I know if it's no longer good enough to sell?"
You look at him dead in the eye, "... Are you serious?"
"Beh, I'm sorry I don't know anything about books like you! I never read them as much as you do."
"Pino, you—" You burst out laughing, "You—you're so silly, stop being so dense!"
The boy's face turns crimson when you laugh, "Hey, I'm trying to help you." He pouts.
"I'm sorry, it's—it's just funny." You stammered while chuckle, "You've spent most of your time in this shop, but you didn't know anything about books."
"It's not like that," He huffed, crossing both of his arm, "I just think that every book we have here is still worth selling, because mio nonno has taken a good care of them."
"Aww, that's sweet." You cooed, "I didn't expect it could come out of your mouth."
He looked away while rubbing the nape of his neck, seems flustered by your words.
"Just ask me if you're unable to decide it."
He nods before he sits near the empty boxes, the heavy books surround him with a few of them piled high on top of each other. You glance at him to see if he's having trouble, but he doesn't show any difficulty on sorting the books. He doesn't seem to need any help, so you resume your primary work. The two of you falls into silence as you focused on organizing the stack, but there's an occasion exchange of words when Giuseppe asked you about some books.
The 3rd box of saleable books is finally full, you close the top of the box before sealing them with weak adhesive tape.
"(Y/N), how about this one?"
You turned your head to him before your body went rigid. The book isn't in a good condition anymore, as a few pages of the book has come off. But that wasn't the reason your heart stopped, it's because of the illustration of a sleeping woman with a prince by her side is starting back at you.
La Bella Addormentata.
"I found it on the very bottom of the pile, do you think it's still good enough for donation?" He flipped the book to inspect the ruined cover, "I'm not sure if it's okay to give it as a donation, I mean, it's already in a pretty bad shape."
He tries to tidy up the book while waiting before he realize you were practically stunned, he furrows his brow in confused manner.
"Hey, what's wrong?"
"Oh! It's, it's nothing." You bit your lips as you showed a troubled expression. He raises his eyebrow but before he could ask you once again, you already speak up, "Can I—uh, can I keep the book?"
"Sure, but why though?" He handed you the book, and with a stiff smile, you receive it as you reply,
"It's my favorite book."
—
The work was done faster than you though, thanks to Giuseppe. He ended up taking most of your portion when he got the hang of it, and he's surprisingly good at judging the book condition.
You already left the bookstore minutes ago, and now you've been walking around the town. It's still pretty early for you to go home, so you just wander aimlessly.
Sadly, it's no longer sunny. The clouds has been covering the sky with its thin veil, and turning the sun into a bleary round-shaped of light. Despite the lack of sunlight, you could still enjoy the weather. It's not as warm as spring, but you didn't need a second layer of clothes either.
It should've been enough to put you in a good mood, but it's rather the opposite. The weak sunlight isn't bright enough to illuminate the city, but the sky isn't dark enough to make people turn on their lights. Though it wasn't the reason behind your sour mood, you just hate cloudy day.
Slowly coming down from your thoughts, you chuckled when you realize where you've been heading to.
The dock.
The very place you swore you'll never set foot in again.
You shook your head in disbelief, what's up with you today? Even your mind couldn't stop tormenting you, as if the book inside your bag isn't enough.
Fine, you snapped at yourself, if that's what you want.
Standing on the lonely pier, you begin to feel the horrible emptiness gripping on your chest. This place overwhelms you with so many emotions, that you couldn't grasp nor understand.
What makes is so hard to forget? Why couldn't you even let go a piece of him? It's just a silly book, with a tale that's so impossible to happen, even in your wildest dreams.
Wiping off your tears, you curse while clutching your bag tightly. Maybe it's easier for you to just throw everything away into the sea, and just forget.
You unzipped your bag and reach for the 'La Bella Addormentata'. Why did you even beg to keep it? It's not even worth the pain. The thin, fragile book feels heavy on your hand as you grip it tightly, ...You couldn't throw it away.
You slump in defeat as you cried, four years, four years without a single word coming from him. How could you not think of the worst? If you know where he went, perhaps you'd just eat your heart out and you'll be fine the next day. But you didn't know anything, and you're foolishly in love.
Deep inside, you know you'll never be able to erase him. Because no one has ever looked at you so adoringly, as if you matter the most to them. No one could ever love you as much as he did, no one would ever give you their heart—with a smile and unconditional trust in such way that even you were afraid you'd incidentally break it.
If you would never had a chance to see him again, then so be it. You'll accept it, and you'll never love again.
You sat there for a while, drowning in your thoughts. Your tears were no longer come out, and a strange calmness washes over you. You snort, I knew it, it's just a coping mechanism.
The sea is pretty calm, even though there was a storm yesterday. You stare at horizon in daze, you didn't know what makes the sunset so beautiful. After all, it's just a daily occurrence.
You were too occupied by your thoughts that it took you more than a second before you feel the footsteps on the pier, you were not alone.
The wooden pier softly creaks everytime the man step closer, and the time seems to stop when you turn your head. Your blood drained from your face as your eyes widen to the point you almost believe they could come out. He seems to be in the same shock as you, but he recovers more quickly, you didn't know what to do.
"(Y/N)."
His voice is so intense, yet so delicate that you almost cry when you finally hear him called your name.
"Bruno."
The man in front of you is no longer a timid boy with his head slightly down, he's no longer the same boy you'd always teased about his height. He's now different, with his hair carefully combed, and standing tall in white suit with black dots. You fight the urge to rub your eyes, you couldn't believe it.
"Bruno, is it—is it really you?"
He smiles.
"Where have you been? Wh—why did you never send me a letter?" You begin to fumble with your words, "I've been searching for you, I searched for you everywhere! I—i..." You took a step towards him before you rose your hand to touch his face, his skin is warm under your touch. "...I missed you, I missed you so much..."
Bruno leans his face onto your hand, almost as if he could melt into your palm. And that gaze, the unwavering gaze filled with love and adoration that reflects his whole heart. It almost suffocate you.
He runs his fingers over your knuckles before he grasp them softly, kissing the inner surface of your hand. "Cara mia," He murmurs sotto voce, "I missed you, sono così dispiaciuto per tutto quanto." (I'm so sorry for everything)
"You—you have so many things to explain to me." You sniffle as you caress his cheek, "You have to tell me everything."
A gentle smile adorns his face, he softly nod and holds your hand tighter. "I will, cara mia. I promise you I will."
And as if pulled by a magnet, you find your hands wrapped around him tightly when you threw yourself into him. He holds you in his arms with the same hunger, and just like a puzzle, you can finally feel whole again.
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It’s frustrating when cleaning and organizing makes things in some ways look more messy. It makes it feel for me like I’m not making progress I’m just making MORE MESS.
I have to remind myself that usually that means I’m not finished yet. That it’s that point right before you finish organizing and throwing away and putting things in their new places, which is when it all comes together better.
I did make progress today. I got one storage bin of clothes into a vacuum storage bag! I got some of my heavier sweaters and scarves in one! Some unnecessary at the moment blankets! Some assorted stuffies and whatnot that are fandom or childhood loved things that I just don’t have space for atm. One is full of all but four skeins of the yarn I have had in my room!
I got some things that are knickknacks and seasonal and heirlooms put into a storage bin! I got some - not all there’s still at least one shelf thing and the closet - of Little Sis’ things out of my room! There’s so much less clutter!
I need to go through old paperwork and shred what doesn’t need keeping anymore. I may use the clothes-storage container I emptied and put more knickknacks into it. I have a pile of books I was into in HS and no longer care to read anymore that I want to donate or get rid of. All of that will make it push through and past that “just made more mess/shuffled the mess around” feeling and point in the cleaning process. I just have to remember that, and work more on it tomorrow or something.
Mom and I are also gonna put up the cork board in the former-window recess in the wall (the back room was built on after the rest of the house, so that wall I share with it used to have a window) and put one of my pictures there. I’m excited for it. We also talked about the picture I least like of the four I got and she agreed it almost was too... same-colors, but she suggested maybe painting the frame which might help the painting itself pop more!
Basically - I’m really trying to work on making my space a space that makes me feel relaxed and happy. Clutter bothers me, it feels claustrophobic I have learned, but I also like my knickknacks and stuff. I just... don’t have space for it now, and that’s okay.
I also worked to just toss things that I was keeping because my jerk brain was convinced that I had to (for sentimentality, because someone gave it to me, etc). That was good too.
After I get all this done, my next steps are moving two shelves that make a “corner” elsewhere on the wall with the long shelf. Then I’m gonna move my big chair there, so it’s more in the sunlight and also lines up with the dresser. This will hopefully open more space and remove the corner of clutter that gathers.
Then. That fuCKING closet is gonna get it. I don’t even care at this point. I will put on gloves and a mask and get feral. It WILL be done before summer if I have any say about it.
#Jules rambles#I am sore and my head hurts and my asthma is acting up. I am TIRED. but I also feel good.
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A Case In Need: Trash and Treasure
Here is my Masterlist which has all the chapters and WIP!
TW/CW: Tons of control! Ren is a snarky bastard but no smut in this chapter!
The next hour was filled with Ren making two separate piles throughout your home, what he had defined as ‘trash’ and ‘acceptable’ amongst your belongings. You felt like you were in a fever dream, nothing you said really seemed to register in his head while tearing items from shelves and walls.
“Ren wait,” you pleaded as he started to go through your closet, “can’t we talk about this?”
He hummed at you, ripping clothes down from their hangers and throwing them into distinct piles. All your work clothes were falling into the ‘acceptable’ category but your comfy clothes, everything that had an ounce of color, he deemed ‘trash’.
“Just stop for a minute please!”
Finally looking at you he crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for you to speak. Before you could even say your piece a knock came from the front door.
“Finally,” Ren sighed as he breezed past you towards the front of your former apartment. Huffing, you followed him to see whoever had decided to grace you with a visit. The door had opened before you had the chance to enter the living space and in walked 6 giant men, dressed in black from head to toe. “Uh… hi?” you squeaked out at their hulking forms.
“Angel, these are my men,” he gestured towards the group, “they will be taking the stuff I’ve organized for you.” Turning his back to you he started spouting off commands to the men, telling them to grab what was to go in the moving van and what was to go in the ‘donate’ van. Not one of them had said a word, you weren’t sure how they knew Ren but they listened to him like trained dogs. You cowered behind Ren as they flooded the apartment, grabbing boxes and bins and shuffling them out into the hallway. Within minutes they had already cleared the living room while Ren returned to your bedroom.
“Wait,” you chased after him, “shouldn’t I get to decide what I want to keep? And who are those guys? Why don’t they talk?”
“They are none of your concern Angel, just like what I let you keep and what I rid you of,” he stated as if he was a scolding parent. You didn’t understand what was happening, of course, you were grateful whenever you were given gifts but this wasn’t so simple, he had bought you an entire house. That changed a lot of things, you had no say in where it was, or even what things you got to bring there. You felt yourself slowly succumbing to tears as the men made it back to your room while Ren barked orders. “I think I need a glass of water,” you whispered.
Walking back into your kitchen you saw nothing, all your furniture was gone. All that remained was layers of dust that coated the wood floors and hooks on the walls. You searched your cabinet for a glass but saw that the men had already gone through them, nothing was left. You leaned on the kitchen island and finally started crying. Covering your face in your hands you mourned over the loss of your things, unsure of what Ren had even filtered through in the last hour. What if he threw away all your family photos? Or your favorite old books? Or worse, was he going to throw away your tie-dye blanket? It has become such a comforting item to you. It came all the way from home when you had left for college, it was the only thing you had once you moved away.
You sobbed even harder at the thought of never having those precious items back, you couldn’t even hear the footsteps passing you. Suddenly there was a hand on your upper back, slowly massaging between your shoulders. You lifted your head and looked over to find not Ren, but one of the moving men. His face was soft yet still had an aura of danger like Rens, but his eyes were seafoam blue*. Flinching away you wiped your eyes and nose on your shirt sleeve, “sorry I don’t know what came over me.”
“It’s alright,” he paused, “Ren can be overbearing sometimes.”
You snorted, “Overbearing is one thing, but this, this is too much. He won’t even listen to me!”
He smiled at you, “Sometimes it seems like he’s going overboard, but he just wants what’s best for you.”
“Why though, it doesn’t make any sense.”
“I don’t know,” he turned to leave the kitchen but stalled and looked over his shoulder, “But I do know that you’re the first one that we’ve met since Rey.”
Then he was gone. The first one since Rey, does that mean that Ren hadn’t taken a ‘mistress’ since his marriage? That seemed like a lie… especially since Finn had told you he was caught with their former paralegal. But something about this new information was unsettling, why were you being given this special treatment? This was something, along with many things, you would have to talk to Ren about.
-----
Finally, the apartment was empty. You were doing your final walkthrough when Ren came up and snatched your phone from your hands.
“What are you-”
“I need to call your landlord,” he said while unlocking your phone, how he knew your password you had zero clue. You sighed and waited for him to make the call. He motioned to your purse and spoke between rings, “You’ll be following me in your car, so get downstairs and park behind me.”
Rolling your eyes you followed his command as he started speaking to your old landlord, you had never left before a lease was up, and honestly, you were curious how Ren was going to get you out of the contract. But he was a lawyer, so you weren’t too worried. Heading downstairs and out the front of the building, there were three vehicles waiting for you. In the front was a blacked-out Porsche**, with the license plate K.R., didn’t seem very subtle to be driving in a busy New York neighborhood. Behind that was a gap where you assumed your car would be going, followed by two black moving vans with the boy band Ren brought huddled out front. Turning to your left you walked to the parking garage to get your car. You wondered what Ren would say about it since he hated your apartment so badly, it wasn’t a terrible car but it wasn’t a luxury one like his. Sighing you brought it out front and parked behind Ren just as he was coming out the front doors. He approached your car and tapped on the passenger window, motioning for you to roll it down.
“Follow me,” he threw your phone down in the seat, “and keep up, I drive fast.”
“Okey-doke,” you smirked at him, of course, he drove fast. Everyone in New York drove fast.
-----
To say Ren drove ‘fast’ was an understatement.
He drove like a maniac, he didn’t follow one single traffic rule aside from stopping at red lights. He bobbed and weaved through cars you almost lost him twice, thank god for his obvious car or else he would’ve blended in with the rest of New York.
After about 10 minutes of driving, you noticed that the vans behind you had separated off in two different directions. You thought about calling Ren and telling him that your furniture was going the wrong way when he suddenly turned into a parking lot, without a blinker. He had backed into a parking spot by the time you found him and pointed to the side next to him as he crawled out of his car. Climbing out of your own car you finally took in the place he had taken you to, a car dealership.
A fucking car dealership.
Not just any dealership, but a Range Rover dealership.
You shook your head to try and snap out of the obvious dream you were in while Ren jogged up to the main building. Coming back to reality you took off after him, throwing the glass doors open to see him leaned against the front counter speaking to a salesman.
“I need you to draw up a contract for me, along with an offer for,” pointing out to your car, “that vehicle. We will be paying in full.”
“Yes sir, right away sir.” the salesman responded.
Walking up to Ren you grabbed his wrist and pulled him away so you could get his full attention. “What the hell are we doing here,” you spoke through your teeth, “why are you selling my car Ren?”
“Angel,” he sighed before leaning in to kiss your forehead, “I won’t be caught dead in that car, and I won’t have my lover caught in one either.”
Lover? He called you his lover… you loosened your grip on his wrist while taking in a shaky breath. This was not the place you wanted to have this conversation at, but it seemed like Ren was doing everything in his power to control your life. You just wanted answers, it didn’t seem like that big of a deal.
“Now let’s go pick one out, it must be black though.” Then he spun around and dragged you to the car lot.
After about an hour and a half of test driving different cars, Ren kept nitpicking every small detail of each one. He had to make sure that the inside was perfect, no scratches or dents. He also seemed to be obsessed with seeing how far the seats reclined, or if the back seats could fold down, lots of strange requests. You just assumed he was worried if he could fit his long legs in it comfortably since you were his ‘lover’. You had, even though you had little say, finally found the one you liked. It was black, like he stipulated, with a leather interior and state of the art technology inside. It was definitely the most expensive car you had ever driven, you were practically salivating at the idea of getting to call it yours.
Heading back inside the salesman talked pricing with Ren, who just threw a card at him and signed the paperwork like he wasn’t dropping almost 100K on a vehicle. Once all the bureaucratic work was done the man smiled at you and handed you the new keys to your car, which Ren snatched from you and got up without a word. You glanced at the man and said a simple thank you since Ren was clearly in no mood to be polite to anyone today. Outside he helped you gather your belongings from your old car and organize them in the Range Rover.
Before taking your old keys inside Ren pinned your front to the car and brought his lips to your ear.
“Do you like your new toy?” he cooed while slowly thrusting his hips into your ass.
You tried to suppress a moan when you felt the hard outline of his cock through his pants. Grinding backward you threw him a glare over your shoulder.
“I haven’t gotten the chance to play with it,” you mused back. Ren growled in your ear before licking a stripe down your neck, tracing your jugular vein. Pulling away he snarled before heading back to his vehicle.
Once you were behind the wheel again, Ren tore out of the dealership. Seemingly leading the way towards your new apartment. Fuck you had forgotten about that, what would you tell your friends? You were sure it was going to be expensive, and clearly something out of your price range. Maybe you could just tell them you started seeing a sugar daddy. It wasn’t like that was any different than what was really happening, you smiled at the thought of Ren being your ‘sugar daddy’, maybe if he was being particularly difficult you’d throw that idea on him.
Ten minutes had gone by before Ren entered a residential neighborhood, looking around you realized that you were in a very rich area. Rich meaning that the brownstones over here were around one million on a good day. Gawking at the beautiful architecture you didn’t even notice Ren had pulled off and parked until he leaned on his horn so you would stop. While you were parking one of the vans had pulled up behind you as Ren was walking up the steps, two at a time. One of the moving men, the one who rubbed your back earlier, walked up to meet him with a key in his hand.
The anticipation was killing you, the outside was gorgeous in itself but you were itching to know what kind of interior Ren had chosen. Climbing up the steps you made it to Ren’s right side grabbing onto his bicep and squeezing in anticipation. Turning the key in the lock he shot you a look over his shoulder, his mouth pulled up in a smirk, “Let’s take a tour while my men unpack.”
You nodded back and sprinted in once the door was open. Rushing past Ren you were in awe of the home. The floors were a clean white tile that flowed into the living areas, each room on the first level was beautifully decorated with minimal clutter. The kitchen was absolutely stunning, white, and black marble on the counters, state of the art appliances, you name it. While you stood there in awe, Ren came up behind you and wrapped you in his arms before whispering in your ear.
“Come, Angel,” he said while pulling you towards the staircase, “I bought you a new bed. We must make sure it lives up to my standards.”
Ren guided you to the master bedroom, his hand on your lower back pushing you forward. Once in the room, you were shocked. Not only was the decor beautiful but the bed was humongous. You had never seen a mattress that size before, it had to have been a king, covered in white and black pillows. It looked so inviting so naturally, you ran and jumped on it becoming consumed by the plushness of the blankets. You were giggling as you rolled around, attempting to make a little cocoon of your own when Ren grabbed you by the ankle and yanked you towards the edge of the bed.
“Hey,” you whined, “that hurts! What are you doing?”
“Did you never learn manners while you were a child? Or are you determined to antagonize me after I’ve provided you with so much?” he said while he flipped you over to lay on your back and face him. His eyes were wild and searching your features before his hand shot up and gripped your jaw, thumb, and fingers digging into the flesh. Shaking your head you struggled to respond to him, “No-no-no I’m sorry.” reaching out and grasping onto his forearm to try and relieve the grip he held on you.
After the two of you stared into each other’s eyes, Ren let out a deep breath before releasing his hand. You quickly scrambled onto your knees so you were eye level with him. “I’m sorry, I really am grateful for the gifts you got me,” you motioned around you, “I don’t know how I can ever repay you.”
“Oh Angel,” he smiled at you, reaching up and cradling your face in his hands, “I think I know how.”
Before you could utter a word Ren’s lips were on yours, slowly and sensually working his mouth in rhythm with yours. Tongues gliding over one another, swapping saliva and moans as he lowered you onto your back. Pulling back Ren turned and shut the door and locked it.
“We don’t want any visitors, now do we?” he mused before he was on top of you again.
TAGLIST: @finn-ray-nal-beads @morby @kirah36 @onlykyloscenes @clumsycopy @candycanes19 @desiraypark
*I imagine Vircul as Sebastian Stan
**Here is Rens Porsche: https://www.porsche.com/usa/models/taycan/taycan-models/taycan-turbo/
***Here is the car he buys us:
https://www.landroverusa.com/vehicles/range-rover/hse/index.html?_ga=2.119954252.5990785.1594159310-830150201.1594159310
****Here is the apartment my sister and I chose on Zillow, obviously, the interior needed to be fancy and we wanted the furnishings to be very modern and monotone:
https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/154-Van-Buren-St-Brooklyn-NY-11221/30608361_zpid/
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I keep getting really frustrated because my room is an absolute mess. I don't mind a little messy, but now it's pretty bad, and I can't bring myself to start tidying it because it's so overwhelming and I know it will take lots of time and effort. Any advice? Your blog is awesome btw, it really helps :)
While my mess isn’t this bad, I have help my friends clean up their depression piles so I understand the process. Let me break down the process I use for you for when things are just piled up on the floor.
Start by going through trash. Throw away wrappers, torn clothes/books, broken toys/cords. Anything unusable that you wont fix.
While going through trash create a pile of misc. stuff, and get a basket or two to put clothes in. I also start a money jar. You don’t need to sort non clothes items as you go along if its too bad, it makes it take too long.
Now that you have a pile of stuff, start generally sorting where goes where. if something goes in a room thats also a mess, keep it in that pile until the room is clean. Now would be a good time to sanitize anything messy, or put stuff you don’t want/need in a bag to donate to goodwill or something.
Once you repeat and all rooms are clean and organized start sanitizing floors. Carpet cleaner, vacuum, or sweeping. This is the step where it always hits you HOW MUCH you have done and feels really good to me.
Wipe down surfaces and do any aesthetic organizing.
This process can take hours, days, or weeks and thats okay. Just don’t give up. Make a plan to chip away at it every day. Take three days per step or something. Set a time, maybe 20 minutes a day just for cleaning. And you can TOTALLY handle it! Good luck
#caps#advice#cleaning#Thanks for calling my blog awesome !! makes me feel more motivated when people compliment me#add#adhd
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