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#and tidy my room
myfriendtheghost · 1 year
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good morning dearest
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deku-verde · 2 years
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UA!Bkg x Fantasy!Deku
How things are playing out on the other side!
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yanderespamton78 · 4 months
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I MADE A THING
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SCREAMING IM SO HAPPY WITH HOW IT TURNED OUT
OKOKOK time to talk you guys through the process because ive nothing better to do B)
so. i was sitting in a pile of newspapers trying to find some cool shit to stick on my wall. as you do. and i found this page. this WHOLE page was covered in advertisements top to bottom. AND the main colour used to contrast the greys was RED!! BIG SHOT SPAMTON REFERENCE!! so i made this B)
I actually decided to go a lil bit experimental with the colours. i normally just do neat colouring but here its kinda scribbly. the windings in the top right corner reads "WAS IT WORTH IT?"
then right when i was editing the post i realised the newspaper had my town name on it multiple times. and also various brands and phone numbers. SO I SCRIBBLED THEM OUT HAHA NOT GETTING DOXXED TODAY NICE TRY
still very nervous about posting it alaksjflakjs i dont trust the internet
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emirrart · 2 months
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you treat basic self care and maintenance as a reward?
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lizardthelizard · 5 months
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so, does anyone else feel sick about the fact that, in the books, Rimmer spends as much of his free time as possible in stasis (he literally spends a year's worth of time in stasis, over the course of five years), and that, officially, stasis booths are only ever used for penal reasons? does anyone else feel sick about the implications that Rimmer has been voluntarily punishing himself for five years straight?
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unmerrymagdalene · 3 months
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I’ve unfortunately entered the cycle of “Sydney keeps the library organized, so that means his room is most likely neat and tidy, but he also works himself to death and would not have enough time to clean his room at all (so it’s most likely messy) but he’s such a clean freak, so-”
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moldylesbianism · 3 months
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stan uris tbh. like tee bee aych. that’s his whole thing. he doesn’t want to get dirty. he wants to be clean. oh lord
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wreckrinho · 3 months
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Normally I hate my room, however...it is my personality. Really.
Have you ever heard this phrase? That your room is a reflection of your brain and personality? well, my room is full of clutter, dirty clothes and...
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the most comfortable place I know.
...I need to put more tawog and Monsters Inc stuff in my room :v
I have a lot of products, but they are all dirty or in boxes... ^_^
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pumpkster · 1 year
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headmates
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youmegravity · 25 days
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I just thoroughly cleaned my desk after not really having done so for a whole year and cleaned some dishes, I think everyone should praise me now 🥺
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amygdalae · 1 year
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I'm going to kill my coworker with a hammer
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johnslittlespoon · 5 months
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Losing my mind over the “such a good little pup, aren’t you?” smut dialogue BUT- with CurtBuck >:)
Also “one more! Please!” from Curt bc I love a good needy Curt soooo much (and I can’t get over what you said the other day about Curt being whiny and needy compared to John’s feral and growly)
post life affirming sex, they all made it back from Algeria and John’s passed tf out from their previous fucking already and Curt’s so tired and already fucked out but he still has this current of energy running under his skin that he can’t help but squirm around until Gale questions him and he just lets out the sweetest little noise before begging and whining into Gale’s neck and Gale just manhandles Curt around so he can slide into him again, shushing him softly when he whimpers from the overstim of being fucked again but he needs it so bad
Anyway I’m actually insane and I desperately needed to entertain some CurtBuck thoughts soooo bad I just love the chemistry of those two together. John may be his partner in crime, but Gale is the steadying and grounding balance he needs too
- @mangokittokatsu
prompts | omg i'm so excited, i haven't written curtbuck outside of the throuple yet but i love them and they are so underrated, i'm so keen to explore their dynamic more <3 thank you for giving me an excuse to!! ~1k words of nsfw drabble below >:) edit: turned this into a full oneshot and posted it to ao3 :-)
Curt shifts on the sex–ruffled, sweat–damp bed sheets, heart rate slowly returning to a normal pace but still antsy from the buzz rippling up and down his spine, rumbling uncomfortably just below the surface of his skin.
John’s snoring quietly behind him, one long leg tangled with Curt’s, always finding a way to stay connected even in rest. Gale’s still awake, fingers combing through his hair in a way that only serves to stoke the flames lapping at his insides rather than settle them down to warm embers the way the gentle touch usually does.
Curt turns his face further into the gap between him and Gale, pressing his forehead against his warm chest, pulling himself closer with the arm draped over Gale’s waist and crowding into his space. He’s so tired that it feels like a herculean effort just to bridge the few inches, and yet he can’t help but squirm when Gale’s other hand flattens itself against his back, his palm feeling like a branding iron against his too–hot, too–restless body.
He presses his hips forward, raising his chin enough to mouth at the base of Gale’s neck, tasting the salt of summer heat that’s gathered there, whining quietly. The rumble against his lips when Gale chuckles low in his throat has his hips twitching, fingertips pressing into Gale’s back.
“What’s wrong, doll?” The gravelly voice does nothing to aid the frenzied feeling creeping beneath his skin, and he nips at Gale in retaliation, rocking forward into a firm thigh again when the hand in his hair tightens ever so slightly.
“Need more,” Curt huffs out a breath when Gale pulls his head back so he can get a good look at him, eyes bleary as he watches the corner of Gale’s mouth twitch with amusement and something akin to hunger.
“You can barely keep your eyes open, baby,” he coos, on the verge of teasing, and a whimper slips out before Curt can stop it.
“Just one more,” he breathes out, eyelashes fluttering as he rolls his hips, pretty certain that he can get himself off on Gale’s thigh if he keeps holding his hair tight like that. “Please, Gale.”
That’s enough to get Gale to move, always weak to his begging, hand firm on his hip as he rolls him over and pulls his back flush against his chest like it’s effortless. It makes Curt’s head spin, mumbling a dazed “fuck” as Gale manhandles him how he wants him, his eyes falling on John’s sleeping form.
“What a needy thing,” Gale hums next to his ear, fingers pressing into Curt’s mouth, and Curt dutifully wets them with a moan, though he’s not sure he could’ve stopped himself from drooling had he tried. Gale pulls his fingers out and reaches between them, taking himself into his hand, slicking himself back up before dragging the head of his cock in a teasing up and down over his hole, and Curt trembles, fingers twisting in the bed sheets.
“Please,” he whines again, pushing his hips back, and Gale takes pity on him, pressing a kiss to his shoulder before sliding back into where he’d filled Curt up no more than twenty minutes prior. Curt eyes snap shut, head tilting back, mouth falling open in a choked out cry, verging on the edge of too–sensitive but simultaneously feeling the restlessness be smothered.
Gale hushes him softly, moving his hand to flatten over Curt’s stomach as he pulls him close enough that he’s really only gently rocking his hips into him, a painfully slow back and forth of his cock, but so good and so full, pressing right up against where Curt’s still aching for it even after taking both of them until he had been shaking.
“Oh,” Curt sighs out, clenching around Gale’s cock and feeling his hips stutter forward into him, shuddering at the groan he receives. 
“This what you needed, baby?” Gale grazes his teeth just below his jaw, and Curt nods desperately, rocking back against him, whimpering. The hand on his stomach presses down, and hot tears jump to the corners of his eyes at the sharp–sweet pleasure the added pressure grants him, feeling each drag inside him so much more intensely.
“Gale,” he gasps, writhing against the warm body behind him, hands tightening in the sheets.
“Such a good little pup, aren’t you?” Gale murmurs against his neck, and that’s enough for Curt to reach down and take his own cock into his hand, hissing at the sensitivity but needing the friction so bad that he fights through it, feeling the pillow dampen against the side of his face as tears finally leak out.
Gale pulls back a little more to drive in harder each time, still keeping his movements slow and deep, making sure it’s not too much for him, lips soft where he mouths at the crook of his neck. He rumbles against Curt’s skin, chasing gentle nips with the press of his tongue and light enough suction to not leave lasting marks, panting quiet encouragement and praise when his thrusts start to get messy.
He feels Gale nudge at his hand, knocking it out of the way and replacing it with his own, and Curt moans at the way the heat engulfs him, rocking his hips up into Gale’s hand and back against his cock, over and over as the honey–hot feeling in his stomach builds. It doesn’t take long before all his muscles are tensing, burying his face in the pillow to muffle his strangled sob, shaking hard as he jerks between Gale’s hand and body, making a mess over his knuckles.
Curt nearly convulses when Gale pushes in deep and goes still, spilling into him once again, filling him with a heat that feels like it oozes through his entire body, melting his bones down to nothing and turning his brain to mush as he chants desperate whimpers of Gale’s name into the pillow.
Fresh tears well up from the almost painful friction when he slides out of him a minute later, and he whines in complaint, but Gale leans over him and kisses him better, slow and soft with a hand cupping his face to help him tilt it to the side.
“You’re unreal,” Gale murmurs against his lips, and Curt still flushes, even after everything else.
(+ Curt wakes up in the morning to John working him open on his fingers because they all can’t get enough of each other as is, let alone after the scare that was Algeria, and he’s sore and tired but god does he ever need to be full of him again, so they take it slow and gentle and Gale wakes up to the sight of Curt absolutely enveloped by John’s broad body, and fuck, there they all go again.) (p.s. @mangokittokatsu i'm gonna be so real, i only have to see your @ to know i'm about to be knocked back in my chair by whatever words you decide to grace my inbox with LMAOO i hope this is a solid thanks for all the brainrot you share <3)
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tagged by: @ramonaflow 💛
This was so fun and cute I love my things
tagging: @senor-hoberto @raplinenthusiasts @cordiallyfuturedwight @longlegsnamjoon420 @epiphanytear @saraminia @betterknownas-immortalhd @cosmicdreamgrl 🫶
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nudibutch · 5 months
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i was finally able to have the house to myself for a bit today... brought all my dirty dishes out of my room and was able to tidy up a little bit without feeling weird
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running-in-the-dark · 3 months
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I have officially started painting the walls in the living room.
well, I've mixed/adjusted the paint and painted some swatches and put up masking tape and all that stuff. I'll be painting tomorrow. I'm so excited (to get started, but mostly that I'll finally be all done with evvvverything*)
*until I think of the next thing I want to do, and the next one after that, and -
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Steve loves a clean car. His BMW is always neat, in and out. He forces the kids to take all their garbage with them as they spill out of his car and looks for leftover crumbs after they ate, absolutely not caring when he begs them not to. He washes it thoroughly every Saturday morning, never skipping it. Everyone knows it's his busy morning, and don't bother him. Usually Robin comes over and makes herself at home, but she knows he won't even look at her until he's done.
"You don't think it's a bit much?" Eddie arrived a few minutes after Steve started cleaning one morning. It was a hot day and Steve was in his old short basketball pants, and wasn't wearing a shirt. He had music blasting from the car radio, and he ignored Eddie completely.
"Stevie," he tried again, walking closer to him, "come on..." He batted his eyelashes and smiled teasingly.
"Eddie, please," Steve said impatiently while scrubbing the back windshield. "I'm cleaning."
"I can see that, and that's why I'm asking, don't you think it's a bit much? you do it every week."
"No, I don't. It's important to me." He took a deep breath, not letting Eddie ruin this for him.
"I don't get it," Eddie shrugged, "it'll get dirty again the second all your munchkins get in tomorrow, so what's the point?" He leaned against the car with his hand, imprinting his palm on the window.
Steve was getting visibly angry now, trying to talk without raising his voice, "the point, Eddie, is that it's important to me, okay?" He threw the dirty rug into the soapy water bucket, crouching down to clean and reuse it, "please, make yourself busy, find something inside to eat, get in the pool, I don't care. just- please, let me finish."
Eddie shrugged again, "as you wish, Stevie boy, enjoy your pointless task." and he disappeared into the big house.
Steve pinched his nose bridge and took a deep breath, and then got back to his routine.
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Steve woke up spooning Eddie from the back. He took a short look at his watch to see it wasn't even 6am. It was a Tuesday, and both of them didn't have work until the afternoon, so technically he could just go back to sleep and enjoy a late morning, but a plot has started to write itself in his head.
He stayed there for a few more minutes, hearing Wayne coming in and going straight to his room after his shift, and then he slowly detached himself from Eddie, doing his very best not to wake him up. He successfully got out of bed and out of the room, and closed the door behind him.
He opened the cupboard under the kitchen sink, looking for cleaning supplies. He found a sponge, some rugs and a bucket, a window cleaning solution and dish soap. He sighed and took them all out, and then grabbed a few plastic bags and slowly got out of the trailer, trying not to drop anything.
When he placed everything on the gravel, the sun started to come out and birds were chirping. He took a deep breath in, he loved the morning air, before everyone woke up it felt cleaner, somehow.
He opened the hose and started filling up the bucket with water, and added the dish soap. He then threw in the sponges and rugs and let them soak.
He opened the front door of Eddie's van, prepared for a mess, but not that much of a mess. Actual food was all over the floor, which made Steve wonder how the pedals even work. The dashboard was sticky and empty snack packages were all over the place, but mostly stuck between the chairs. Steve couldn't blame it all on Eddie, because he knew the Corroded Coffin guys took the van sometimes too. He also couldn't remember when was the last time he actually was in the van. When they went out together they almost always took Steve's car, mostly because Eddie's driving made Steve fear for his life, but maybe also because he just didn't feel comfortable in Eddie's car? He couldn't tell.
He started picking up trash into a plastic bag. In the beginning he went slowly, trying to touch as little as he can, but when his hand dipped in a brown thing he hoped was melted chocolate, he gave into it and grabbed piles of dirt, filling bag after bag.
When he was done with that, he started hitting the seats, making crumbs and sand and probably living things jump into the air. He then took out the car's carpets and shook them from all the crumbs he just dropped on them, banging them on the ground and giving them a wipe with a soaped up rug. He cleaned the air-conditioning vents, the windows from the inside and made sure the stirring wheel didn't glue to his hands.
He finished the interior of the car after 6:30am. He shut the doors and opened the hose again. He sprayed water all over the big van, getting it all wet. Then he took the soap, and squeezed the bottle, covering the car with green stripes.
He took one of the sponges out of the bucket and started scrubbing. He scrubbed every single inch on the van, the windows, the door handles, the bumper, the licensing plates, the wheel rims and even the exhaust. He knew it didn't make sense, but he did it anyway.
He opened the water again, washing the car from all the foam, and watched the dirt dripping down, exposing a shiny van, that smelled like clean dishes. He took a dry rug and went over the entire van, wiping away the excess water and leaving it nice and ready to go.
He got rid of the now dirty water bucket, washed all the rugs and sponges and threw away the ones that weren't usable anymore. He took everything back inside, put it in its place and hopped in the shower.
When he joined Eddie in bed, the latter mumbled in his sleep, "where did you go..?"
Steve kissed him on the cheek, "just the bathroom," and he fell asleep again with Eddie in his arms.
The two boys woke up around 10am, stumbled out of bed and walked into the kitchen to make breakfast. Steve was cooking eggs while Eddie made them both coffee when he gasped and ran out of the trailer. Steve looked through the window to see Eddie running and then standing in front of the van in shock, turned off the stove and ran out too.
He placed himself next to Eddie who slowly turned his head towards him, "what the fuck..." He whispered.
"What?" Steve asked, innocently.
"Did you do that..?" Eddie was still half whispering, and opened the driver's door, "Steve!" He sat in front of the wheel, "this entire car smells like you! you did this!"
Steve completely forgot he sprayed his aftershave in the car when he finished cleaning. He also couldn't tell from Eddie's tone whether or not he was happy about this whole thing, so he just said, "yeah..?"
Eddie jumped back out and hugged Steve tightly, and then gave him a wet kiss on the cheek, "thank you."
Steve, who was utterly confused, pushed Eddie away a bit, examining his face, "are you okay?"
Eddie beamed, "of course I'm okay! my van is clean and smells like you, and you did this all for me. I honestly don't deserve you, Stevie."
"What??" Steve threw his hands, "I thought it'd piss you off! I did that to piss you off! why aren't you pissed off??!"
Eddie was the one confused now, "why would I be pissed off? also, why would you even want to piss me off in the first place?" he crossed his arms and tapped his bare foot on the gravel, trying to erase the amused expression off his face.
"Because," Steve opened, "You always annoy me and tease me about how me cleaning my car every week is pointless, so I thought you just hate clean cars altogether, so I decided to clean yours. You're supposed to be pissed because you think clean cars are pointless." He finished and crossed his arms too, mirroring Eddie.
Eddie started laughing, loud and hard, and came to hug Steve again, "Gosh, Stevie, my sweetheart, I love your clean car. I love how you're so tidy, I love to see how the kids subconsciously copy you and clean after themselves, I love how you always put everything back in place, I love how there are never dirty dishes in your sink, and never piles of dirty clothes waiting to be washed. I love how you mindlessly pick up my stuff around my room and dust the record player, I love how you change my bedsheets. If anything, me picking on you for cleaning your car was out of pure jealousy. I wish I was a bit more like you. I know we never take my car because it's so messy, but I wish I could drive you some places without feeling bad about the way it smells," Steve made a face and Eddie giggled, "Okay, I don't have to drive, but thanks to you, we actually can take the van now. It's a lot more compatible for road trips and camping. We can do those things now." He smiled and Steve smiled too.
"I'm sorry I did it behind your back..." Steve said looking down and Eddie held his chin back up.
"No, it's for the best. I don't think I'd be able to handle the embarrassment, seeing the condition of this car," he made a disgusted face, "thank you for bringing it back to a normal state. I promise I'll try to keep it as clean as I can." He put a hand on his heart and Steve released a chuckle.
"Yeah, okay," He raised an eyebrow, "or you can just ask me to do that, I actually do enjoy it."
Eddie rolled his eyes and pushed Steve into the van, "I still don't believe that, Stevie boy."
He started the car and they drove off, with Steve holding onto his seat and begging Eddie to slow down.
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