#this blog will still make free designs!! but if you want more control over the result

[soapyghostie]

I love Pyramid Head a whole lot, and i think he deserves all the kisses, he literally has to suffer because of other people sins, so i was thinking, there's this big teory that Pyramid Head uses this Pyramid in his head as a punishment, so he has to walk around with it all the time, but Masahiro Ito said he had a face, his words were:

"I didn't design & make Pyramid Head face, but have a image of inside of helmet in those days. It's a binded someone's head with many frames.", soo i was thinking about a very fluffy comfort fic, where after muchhh time convincing Pyramid its ok to talk his helmet off for some time, him and reader can finally cuddle in a completely comfortable way. Please feel free to deny, i love your work and i know this request may be a bit bad, lol! Thank you

Hey! Thank you Anon! I’m so glad you love my work! Plus, this was a great request! There is no such thing as a bad request on my blog. 😊 Hope you enjoy!

Pyramid Head

Unlike all the other monsters in Silent Hill, Pyramid Head was manifested from the guilt and sorrow of the ones who needed to be punished; to remind them of their sins. Moreover, Pyramid Head was never one of the humans that got turned into a monster from Silent Hill’s curse, but was created from a person’s imagination. He pretty much was born with his helmet. 

Pyramid Head has never taken his helmet off before, let alone has seen his actual face. He doesn’t need to. Him being the executioner, his job is to inflict pain on his victims for their wrongdoing. In wearing the helmet, it reminds others of the pain they’ve caused others and the pain that is about to be brought upon them. He loves his job and he’s proud to represent it by wearing his helmet.

It’ll take a lot of convincing for him to take his helmet off. To him, it feels like his actual face; it helps him feel like he belongs; it makes him feel strong, powerful, and masculine. Yes, he knows he has a human body and face; however, it makes him feel insecure to think about it. All the other monsters look nothing like humans, but he is the only monster who does. The helmet makes him less of a human and more of a monster, the scariest one at that. All fear him: monsters and humans alike. He has all the power and control in Silent Hill so why take his helmet off, you know? 🤷‍♀️ 

You have to reassure him. Trust me, it does the trick. You have to remind him that he is no less of a strong, powerful being with his helmet off than with it on. Then again, he’ll still hesitate to take it off. This his is first time taking it off since he’s existed so he is quite nervous. Nevertheless, he’ll do it for you. 🙂 

The day he finally takes his helmet off, praise him. Tell him how handsome he looks. Kiss him all over his face. Pyramid Head will get so flustered: it’s cute. He appreciates that you see him for no less than who he is without his helmet then with it on. He might take it off more often now. Seriously, he didn’t realize how the weight of his helmet was killing his shoulders. 

He’ll show a softer side of himself. You thought he already did have a soft spot for you, but just you wait! This is a side of him no one has ever seen before, not even you. 

Pyramid Head becomes a literal giant man child, always wanting to be held and kissed. He’ll follow you around like a lost puppy everywhere; he wants you to hold his hand and be near you all the time. 

He apologizes a lot for never trusting you with seeing his face. He was just so scared you’d turn him away and think of him as weak. He wants to be big and strong for you, to protect you. Not be weak. 

You have shown him what true love actually is. He never knew feelings until you came along, yet, he still struggled with showing them towards you. However, when you saw his face for the first time, you showed him kindness and love. He doesn’t know how it happened, but it just clicked. He actually felt something. He felt love and he understood it. He understood it was okay to be vulnerable around the ones that truly love you because they’d near judge you and loved you for you. 

You are the light in his dark world. You’ve taught him so much. Before you, all he knew was pain and suffering. Now, he knows kindness and love. He can’t thank you enough and he’ll never take it for granted. Bonus, he loves to take off his helmet now. He feels like he can be more himself than with it on. He sees there is much more to him than being the feared executioner of Silent Hill.

[relaxxattack]

ok yeah lots of memes about how the shitty new UI is literally a direct carbon copy of twitter and we hate it because of that, yea yea

here’s some actual/extra reasons why the UI itself is shitty beyond the fact that it’s stolen from twitter (in just my personal opinion)

it’s claustrophobic as hell. the old UI felt breathable, felt like you could scroll and actually look at your posts, and now there’s enough shit going on on one page that it actually gives me a headache. (i’ve heard other people say this as well, so maybe it’s not just me that’s overstimulated by all the fucking noise on the dash?)

the ‘dash sorting’ (for you / your tags / what you missed) is way too high up the page now and appears crowded against the top where things like the bookmarks bar are on most browsers. not that anything in this new UI isn’t crowded.

i’ve seen it mentioned plenty already, but there’s quite a lot of unnecessary duplication-- as in, the same buttons that exist in the new left navigation panel show up on the right in blog view, which is just completely annoying and unneeded clutter.

the fact that post interaction options are all on the right side of the posts, but dashboard navigation is now all pushed to the far left of display, is extremely annoying. i’m right-handed, so it’s extra annoying for me to have to constantly go all the way over there. maybe that’s easier for left-handed people, but if the case was supporting diversity, why not just put an option in dashboard preferences to switch the side of ALL the controls? because the post interactions are still on the right.

while we’re on the subject-- tumblr’s original design was actually MUCH more intuitive and easy to navigate. the reason for this is that everything you needed to click was in one small area. you scroll up and down the dash, move slightly up to navigate (home/asks/notifications) and slightly down to the side to interact with a post (reblog/reply). extremely simple, easy to use, even ‘lazy + addicting’, which is what all social media studio exes are supposed to want right now. changing the ui to actually be more work and more frustrating to navigate seems completely opposed to what their obvious business strategy should be.

tumblr’s original design was also much more breathable, with the small icons in the corner looking organized and not taking up much space, and lots of room for the posts themselves to be the main attraction.

there’s the fact that copying someone else’s brand entirely actually just puts you in a bigger, wider pool with much more competition, and makes you much more likely to immediately fall short of that and go bankrupt.

tumblr's original purpose was to be geared toward blogs, and these updates, along with the writing on the wall about blog themes being completely phased out soon, is completely against the original purpose. although sometimes website purposes change for the better, so take that as you will.

and finally the obvious point that you can tell from all the memes: this change is almost universally hated by the core tumblr userbase-- aka the site’s loyal consumers for years and years. driving out their main demographic seems like a very obvious, very quick way to lose a lot of fucking money. they also did this “carbon copy of twitter” update literally just a week after sitewide protest about the idea of this site being anything like twitter, so it feels like a massive Fuck You to literally all of the users. tumblr is rapidly approaching their trust thermocline, and show no sign of slowing down.

these are just my opinions about the ui, and i’m only one person. so feel free to add on other design flaws you think people should be aware of or able to mention! i will probably also be submitting this post as feedback to staff, and will be taking their surveys when i can as well.

[spotofmummery]

Once More - On Creating a Personal Website

Over the weekend, I wrote the above post on my main blog about a new FREE webhost called Nekoweb. While I still use Neocities myself, I just wanted to toss this out here as an alternative, especially given where sites like this and WordPress are going in terms of the lack of your content's safety and your control of your work.

Learning basic HTML is pretty straightforward, and there's lots of templates out there to get you started. Once you get the hang of it, you might surprise yourself with how much fun you have designing your own site and not being held back by anyone else's design and content choices!

The cool thing is, you can make your own website, then link your stuff here (like I did above) to share it to any social media you like. But it's not TIED specifically to Tumblr or X or Bluesky because you host it somewhere else. So, you can still post it to social media to get the word out about your writing or art, while maintaining control of where it lives in the long run.

HTML files can be backed up. So if something happens to your host, as long as you keep your website files on your computer or other media, you can always turn around and upload it to a new host. No fear of having your stuff wiped forever because it's locked in a social media account database you can never reach.

Just some considerations!

[leth-writes]

Willpower (yandere Chrollo x reader)

Summary: You can bend anyone to your will... Anyone except Chrollo, apparently.

Warnings: brief discussions of gore, also there isn't too much yandere behavior in this, but if anyone wants a continuation just let me know! As always, my blog is 18+.

For as long as you could remember, others had been a bit… suggestible.

You weren’t sure why God had decideed to give you such an incredible curse, but hey, you were stuck with it, so might as well work with what you’ve been given.

It had started off small, as curses always do; suddenly, your parents were always changing their minds about buying you ice cream. Then, at school, your teachers would always forget they’d just asked you for your homework, and bullies’ eyes seemed to gloss over you, even if you were sitting right in front of them. It seemed that everyone around you suddenly got a whole lot more agreeable to your whims, going along without so much as a single complaint. At first, it was great; what kid wouldn’t want to be able to get out of homework and punishments?

The problem was, you couldn’t control it. You were stuck in a hell of your own design, always forced to consider whether someone actually wanted to be around you, or whether you’d accidentally bent their wants and needs to match your own. Friends would suddenly wake up, as though from a dream, and suddenly want nothing to do with you; your first crush slapped you after your first kiss, determined that you’d tricked them or something. Your whole life would periodically crash around you as you lost jobs and friends and opportunities, all because of some ability you weren’t even trying to use. You were forced to constantly wonder whether anyone actually liked you, or if they were just being mind-controlled into your unwilling puppets. You didn’t have much of a choice; it wasn’t like you could tell whether or not someone was being controlled, after all.

So you hunkered down and worked on your studies until you could graduate. Except, right before you were set to walk that stage and snatch your diploma, you’d been called into the principal’s office and confronted about cheating. Apparently none of your teachers could remember assigning you those high grades; as a result, you were expelled a week before you could graduate, left floating in the wind and doomed to repeat your failures.

Eventually, your parents seemed to wise up to what had been happening. Years and years of accidents left them highly resistant to your ability, leading them to seek out all manner of treatment. After the 15th exorcism, they seemed to just accept they had a monster for a child. It was then your family cracked, your father running away in the middle of the night without so much as a goodbye.

Your mother only got worse after that. She became highly paranoid, convinced you were out to get her, and suspicious over any impulse she got. She started locking you in your room and forcing you to wear a hideous muzzle, one that left scar after scar layered around your cheeks and digging into your soft flesh, just to make sure she was safe from influence. You weren’t allowed to talk to her, or to anyone in fact, locked in your room day after day, brought your meals by a maid who wore sound-cancelling headphones. You were trapped, locked away without much hope of being set free.

You wasted years in that cramped room, with that horrible metal muzzle on, wishing and hoping and pleading for your mother to arrive and announce it had all been a mistake, one she regretted dearly. You fantasized about her taking you out for ice cream, like she had when you were little, and wrapping you in a tight hug, apologizing profusely for hurting you. And yet, your dreams never came true. You would wake up in that hell, still stuck in place, fearing you’d be trapped until the day you died.

Finally, one night, you were woken up by a loud clanging sound, the noise the heavy door made when it opened. You bolted awake, sure someone was coming in the night to rescue you, only to see your mother. Here eyes were crazed in the dim, flickering light of the hallway, standing there panting with a knife in one hand.

“I’ve had enough of your bullshit!” She screamed, practically frothing at the mouth. You backed away, hands out to placate her. It didn’t work, and she swung the knife in a wide arc, trying to force you even further back.

“Every day, I can feel the whispers in the back of my mind! I’ve had enough, I need to cut you out!” She swung again, wildly, this time coming even closer. It seemed like this would be it; the day you were freed from your horrific curse. You didn’t want to die, but it seemed you had no choice.

Suddenly, your mother stopped, like a puppet whose strings had been cut. Her face went terrifyingly blank, and she jerked the knife up, plunging it in one fell swoop into her chest. Blood spurted over her white nightgown, and still, her face was dull, as though she’d already been drained of life. She collapsed to the ground, dead before she landed, crumpled in the corner like a cast-away doll. You stumbled over to her, uncertain and terrified, though you knew the truth; your mother was dead, and you needed to leave. You found the key to the muzzle and freed yourself, and you never looked back.

It had been years since that fateful day, years of carefully honing your abilities until you could control them like you would an extra limb. You practiced subtly nudging people, rather than tugging them under the current of your will, meaning most people were completely unable to notice your ability working on them. You made a living by cheating people, and while you hated being so dishonest, you didn’t have much of a choice; left without a name or a history, you were unable to obtain any documents, and as a result were unable to put down any permanent roots. You moved from town to town, staying only until people started to become suspicious, and then you were off. You were careful to not become too close to anyone, limiting any contact only to your work.

Today, however, would be the day that everything changed. You were going to rob that stupid auction, and you would earn enough money from selling the artefacts on the black market to finally find a little house and settle down in the countryside. You could picture the soft bedsheets and lazy mornings already!

You’d already worked your way down into the bowels of the auction house, planning on sneaking your way backstage to get your pick of the artefacts before they were sold. You didn’t bother wearing a disguise, you didn’t plan on staying, though you turned the attention of anyone you came across away from you.

You’d already heard the stories about the previous attempt at this year’s auction; apparently an entire room of people, possessions and all, had just… vanished. You wondered if someone else had an ability?

Part of the reason you were so determined to hit this specific auction, you thought privately, was the desire to see if there was another like you; you were tired of feeling alone, of feeling isolated, and having someone else that could understand would be the best-case scenario. It never hurt to do a little investigating, after all.

The auction house was large and ornate, made of gold pillars and massive chandeliers. Yet, the servants’ halls were small and cramped. You supposed that was a universal constant; those high society wanted kept out of the light were forced to scurry around in the dark, scrambling for scraps as the guests gorged themselves on the richs of the world.

You had started off feeling so guilty about taking even the rotted food from the kitchens of the wealthy; years of seeing the truth, the reality behind the sheer silk film that separated the world of the richest from the rest had drained that anxiety from you. You knew now that they most likely wouldn’t even notice anything was missing; no one would remember these items in even a week. It was entirely a vanity project.

Finally, you arrived backstage. There were dozens of crates, massive and wooden, lining the back of the dark area, all clearly stuffed to bursting with precious artefacts worth millions. Shaking off your thoughts, you set to work.

Sorting through the crates was hard work, but you quickly created a pile of items you knew no one would miss, mainly gold and jewels. The people who would be bidding on these wouldn’t even notice they were gone; they had no idea what was in their current collection, after all. You knew you’d hit quite a lot of the people in the crowd, and yet none had noticed when you’d pilfered the artefacts they’d once been so excited to collect.

You were startled out of your work by the clearing of a throat. Confused, you whipped around; shit, had you let your abilities slip?

Standing in front of you was an entire collection of people. They were a haphazard group, each dressed completely differently, yet all staring calmly at you. It seemed they were able to pierce through that thin film you’d set up to keep anyone from spotting you. You let out an exasperated sigh, frustrated with yourself; what was the point of practicing for hours if you were just going to slip up every time you stopped paying attention for 5 minutes?

You held up a hand, focusing on the pulsing of their wills. They were stronger than most people, and it took significant effort to turn them away, but you finally did, sweating and panting with the effort. Why was it so hard?

The group ignored you, finally under the reach of your abilities, and began talking of their plans to rob the auction house. You gleaned that they were the ones responsible for the disappearance of the other patrons. Maybe they had similar abilities? Fascinated, you placed the artefacts you had chosen in your bag and sat back to watch. You were surprised they were even able to get back there, security was tight, after all. You’d even heard talk of famous assassins patrolling the halls.

Still, you watched as they sprted through the crates. Each item was carefully pulled out and placed in front of a young boy with incredibly long hair, who placed a hand on it and seemed to pull a copy out of thin air. They appeared out of nowhere; first a blur, then an exact copy, like magic. You’d never seen something so incredibly, so cool! You guessed that this was truly a group with magic powers, even stronger than your own!

The group bantered back and forth, seemingly old friends, as they puppeteered the auction, the tall lady with the short hair bringing out each copy for the auctioneer to sell. Ecstatic to finally see someone with a power like yours, you followed them to the abandoned building it seemed they were living in.

They all sat around, drinking and laughing, seemingly enjoying the spoils of the evening. You wanted, for the first time in years to let those walls down and finally settle down, maybe make some friends?

It was then you noticed him. The seeming leader of the group, clad only in a fur coat and leather pants, hair pulled back to expose a cross tattoo on his forehead. He radiated power in a way you hadn’t ever seen before, and he was staring right at you. Frantic, you checked your ability, only to see that everyone’s wills were under your control except his. Shit.

You pulled on his will, and his stare seemed to waver before hardening again. “Who are you?” He questioned, eyes hard and blank. Just like that, the other wills snapped from your control, and the group turned to you as a collective, the mirth from the moments before drained away.

“What the fuck?” The tall blond man in the tracksuit said, seemingly enraged.

“Did you not notice you were being followed?” The leader intoned, voice cool and collected.

A collective no raised from the group.

You were fucked, completely fucked! “Shit!” You squeaked, holding your hands up. “I-I promise I wasn’t trying to hurt you or-or spy or anything! I was just curious, I saw you all at the auction!” You explained, hurredly, backing away.

“Ah, just curious, were you?” The leader said, standing slowly. “And how did you manage to sneak past some of the best fighters in the world?” He approached, almost cautious as though he’d scare you off.

“I… I have an ability, like yours…” You said, pointing to the small boy with the long hair.

“An… ability?” The leader said, stopping in his tracks.

“I can bend people to my will, but I promise I only stopped them from seeing me! I didn’t do anything else!” You explained, backing up until your back hit the wall. The group’s anger seemed to drain away, genuine curiosity flitting across each face.

“Ah, how interesting. And you’ve never met anyone else with this ability?” The leader asked.

You shook your head.

“How would you feel about joining my little group, then…?”

You nodded, and your life changed forever.

[a-roguish-gambit]

Hi there I love your design for a Romy fankid, she is so cute!!! I was wondering do you have any headcanons about Rogue's pregnancy with her? I bet Gambit was the most ecstatic father to be ever!! Anyways that's all I wanted to ask. Love your blog :)

Oh yesssss well it goes in few directions

One if she has control of her powers, and two if she hasn't.

#1 If she has control of her powers:

Girl has been touch starved for years. Once she can touch people she cannot keep her hands off of Gambit. It's only a matter of time till she gets pregnant.

When she does, the mutant morning sickness is NASTY

She's having weird bouts of powers she's previously absorbed. Just split seconds of them after sudden nausea.

Girl is terrified she has lost control of her powers again some how goes straight to Hank.

After assurance that she's just pregnant she's now nervous how Gambit will react

They weren't planning for kids after all. What if he doesn't want it? He seems like the child free type of guy

He's overjoyed tho. Lifts her up and swings her around

Cooks her all kinds of BS. Pulls out the old family cookbooks, steals a few old family cook books from the assassin's guild, sweet talks some old church ladies into giving up their secret recipes.

Makes her non alcoholic banana foster and versions of their favorite fruity drinks

Baby shower is incredibly extravagant and weirdly themed like a casino. Cause he thought it would be fun

There is no gender reveal party but Remy does take bets on the birth gender at the shower. Cause he is a gambling man. Options are: doctor will say girl and be right, doctor will say boy and be right, doctor is wrong about the gender, doctor mentions any obvious mutant traits before the gender (winner gets to pummel doctor for this)

He's not over bearing or super protective. She's still rogue she can handle things herself

He will spoil the fuck out of her tho. Relentlessly.

Instead of pink or blue they go for royal purple for the baby's room.

He handles her mood swings ok. To him it's just rogue but more

Gambit talks to the baby in her belly often pretends to have conversations

Remy talks to the baby bump in Cajun french. Wants the kid to be bi lingual

He comes up with ridiculous nicknames for the baby which last beyond the birth despite rogue's best efforts to stop him

Rogue dealing with worries about being a good mom considering her history with moms, biological and adoptive

Gambit fucking adores how her body has changed. Absolutely worshiping her at times. She's so confused. "Ah feel like a potbelly pig and you think this is sexy? Ah always knew you were a strange man Remy...."

Gambit Will fight any doctor that tries to refuse to take her. So will rogue even while currently in labor

Gambit accepted from the start his hand was gonna get broken in that ER and takes a shot of whiskey and marches in there like a man when it's time to push.

Rogue cries when the baby is born. Refuses to let anyone hold her for a while, clutches her close

#2 Rogue can't control her powers but gets pregnant anyways

Rogue and Gambit still have sexy times but with lots of body cover and condoms obviously.

The condom broke at some point not enough to cause skin to skin contact but enough to let stuff through

Neither of them realize that she gets pregnant from this for a few months

They didn't think she could she thought she'd essentially just miscarry cause of her powers

When she finds out she panics. Gambit is excited but she's so worried she's gonna kill her own baby on accident

Which Gambit knows that much worry will absolutely cause a miscarriage

So his goal is: keep her lowkey as possible

House husband mode engaged.

Rogue is acting reckless for a bit. Sure she's gonna miscarry or it's just gonna disappear one day. Pushing to keep fighting and working like normal. Refusing to plan for the baby to come. Gambit catches her trying to drink coffee and take Tylenol to deal with nausea

They have an argument. Gambit finally says "Does rogue actually want dis bebe? Just be honest wit Gambit. I will understand!"

She breaks down. Admits she wants it but doesn't want to get her hopes up.

"my powers can only destroy things it's only a matter of time before this poor thing suffers the consequences"

He calms her down "you don know dat, chere. Da bebe has survived dis long...mebbe dey Gon be fine cause dey part of you?"

"what about after they're born huh? What if I can't hug my child without hurting them remy? What kind of mother will I be if I can't nurse, I can't kiss my child's forehead, can't hold them close."

"you'd still be a good mama. Cause you already worrying so much bout dem. We'd find a way to make sure our baby knows how much you love dem."

This calms her down

he convinces her to get an ultrasound the next day and she tears up when she sees the little thing, moving around she renews hope.

She's celebrating every little milestone.

Some nights staying up late talking to her baby in her belly

"I may not be the best mama....I'm sorry if I can't hold you as close as some can their own....but I will love you no less. No matter how you come out."

They pick out special mittens for rogue to hold their baby. Get a breast pump so she can still give milk. All just in case.

When she gives birth Gambit is there with a falconry glove. He knows his hand is still gonna be broken but she needs to still be able to touch it.

When the baby is finally born a nurse hands her to rogue cause she doesn't know her powers

She shrieks at first as her skin touches hers....but as skin touches skin nothing happens

She cries in relief as she's able to hold her baby, nuzzle her close

3# she can't control her powers and She can't get pregnant because of her powers....but they have a forge to solve this problem

Gambit and rogue want to have a baby but don't think they can have one

They go to forge and Hank for advice cause a human fertility clinic would be no use

The two have come up with a perfect solution: an artificial womb. It still needs to be surgically attached for blood flow between parent and child and delivering nutrients but it can be attached to any person, female or male or non sex individual.

Gambit volunteers to carry

Rogue is concerned for him thinks he lost his mind but he insists

It's attached to his belly and grows as the baby needs space with a set due date. It's heavy already to start with, and is just gonna get worse

Has to be on a strict diet to make sure the kid is getting good nutrition. Also hormones have to be introduced daily to the amniotic fluid For the baby's sake. Thankfully don't affect him too much

But he does get some mood swings as a result and tiredness.

And his back hates him.

But it's worth it for the baby.

The worst part is not being able to drink

mardigras is the WORST this time round

Calls himself the world's saddest king cake

"da tings Gambit do for ya feve"

Also yes his nickname for the baby while in the incubator is "feve" cause it looked like a bean when they first saw it on scans.

He's slightly upset about being left behind on missions for a while until he realizes it means he can be lazy with his cats

Rogue is concerned at first. Feel this is all a bit uncanny, but loves being able to cuddle the baby belly and gets used to it quickly

He's constantly talking to the belly like he's having convos with the baby. States the baby's "arguments to things" (really his)

Rogue feels a little insecure about not being the one to carry at first. Like she doesn't deserve to be called mom but over time gets used to it.

They have a heart to heart about it

Starts joking that Shes the dad and he's the mom.

The birth is easy, chamber gets opened and baby pops out like a literal bun in the oven. but the womb has to be surgecally removed after wards.

Daddy has to recover but he gets cuddle time with baby first.

Also rogue can touch her baby still in this one

Aaaaaaand that's it!!!!

[whatudottu]

Because I've been steamrolled by another character to hyperfixate on completely out of the blue, I feel the need to talk about TFA Soundwave and his siphonophoric ass- yes, I said siphonophore, now read under the cut to find out more-!

Aside from me now suddenly getting attached to another minor character (not as fucked over as Skyke but an extra episode is STILL just 2 total episodes), I caught the curiosity bug and looked a little deeper into this bastard, and here I am sharing it.

As a refresh, Soundwave in TFA was a 'gift' for Sari with the actual motivation to be used as Megatron's new body; the method to do so being the Key and the Allspark energy it uses. Now, in terms of all the Earth sparked cybertronians (not to be confused with Earthspark), you can probably pit the two types of mecha into 'Key-born' and 'shard-born'. You get the Dinobots as the first Earth cybertronians firmly in the 'key-born' category and the Constructicons (+plus unrelated Wreck-Gar) in 'shard-born', and considering the methodology used to make Soundwave- well- SOUNDWAVE was the Key, you'd also think that he'd also be as such fitting in with 'robots Sari tampered with and Megan profited off of'.

Well- to say that Soundwave's transformation from simple Earth music bot to fully forged and sparked cybertronian was actually complete would be - perhaps - a lie.

Megatron had originally wanted Soundwave to at the very least stick around Sari long enough to fully upgrade into his new body, his cybertronian body fueled on by the Key and it's Allspark energy, and to probably remain under his command just long enough for a transfer of some sort. It is Soundwave's act of defiance, a shock to even Megan, that cut the ties between the full frame upgrade and the actual upgrading of his processor.

It was Soundwave's rebellion against the (presently) organic Sari that prevented him from being 'Key-born'.

That's not to say he isn't sapient, more that it is to say he's significantly more different in comparison to other Earth-born cybertronians.

Soundwave becomes the Soundwave Megatron designed him to be only after making the upgrade himself, with a lot of smaller Detroit robots serving as the materials to build up his frame, himself the personification of the Earth robot revolution. And when he is summarily defeated by Bulkhead (and later by Optimus in 'Human Error') all the parts that were his body shattered into the scrap parts of possessed robots passed their usefulness. All that remained of Soundwave was a little section of his original make that just so happened to be where the Key would be used.

Soundwave became a little cassette.

Bestie I swear to god-

Seeing as how his minicons Laserbeak and Ratbat don't transform into cassettes themselves (bass and keytar respectively), plus are probably part of the 'shard-born' half of Earth cybertronians, I think that it'd be a fucking hilarious reversal if the Cassetticon for the Soundwave fam was SOUNDWAVE HIMSELF! Like, if it ends up that Laserbeak and Ratbat have more cybertronian of a spark than this bitch then his siphonophoric ass has got to find that fucking shard-

And yes, back to siphonophores.

So, I love me some siphonophores, love the bitches that group together to form one being, love me that so much. I think if Soundwave were a siphonophore cybertronian frametype, it would certainly fit with the whole hypocrisy of his mentality, of unleashing a 'robot revolution' by uh... mind controlling robots to be free from their servitude by organic hands.

His spark's in the right place (buried deep within minibots or toy Soundwaves) but perhaps being like a day's worth of being vaguely sapient might kinda skew that revolution to be 'i want you to be free the way I define free' and boop I've made another mind controller a siphonophore eep-! (would be a great time to put in a link, were it not a link to a collab with a friend's deactivated blog and also not even transformers related 😔)

Considering the title of siphonophores in a more general sense are 'colonial species', a Soundwave built up as a colony of robots (so far only Detroit tech robots) and presents himself as this signal for a revolution, I think it's awfully fitting that the mentality of 'be free MY way' could be boiled down to 'be my body'. Because as a cassette - or perhaps more a cassette RECORDER or tape deck - Soundwave literally cannot move and has to rely on his music in order to get anything done, to get others to do the things he needs them to do FOR HIM. To escape from the Autobots a second time he needs Laserbeak - one of the instruments TO HIS VERY MIND CONTROLLING MUSIC - to snatch him out of there to rebuild another day, to gather enough stray robots to become a colonial system of machines in order to function as 'cybertronian'.

I just... think I really like siphonophores, man. I think they're real neat little cities, yeah? And I think Soundwave's network of robotics is just being head by someone who's like... idk give or take a few Earth months/years between Sari's season 1 birthday and Earth's season 3 Christmas old, significantly less than even the youngest of young bots (though Dirtboss and the Luna-born clones are like... the youngest newsparks) and most certainly an age that even humans would find young.

Idk, maybe Soundwave using all this Earth tech is not getting the parts that he actually needs to be actually officially a cybertronian, even if perhaps he remains a siphonophore type frame. Perhaps, with a special delivery from Megan himself all the way from Kaon, a colony of cybertronian made minicons could help connect the missing piece.

Eh, I'm just rambling at this point.

Anyway; *rotates TFA Soundwave in my head* *rotates TFA Soundwave in my head* *rotates TFA Soundw-

[steppingstonesuniverseguide]

One More Step Out of the Pit: Chapter 12/26

Summary: It had been Tommy and Tubbo for practically forever. They clawed their way out of hell together. They discovered their superpowers together. They started working for the Superhero Guild together before even coming of age. Tommy probably owed Tubbo his life ten times over. So, when the three supervillains he'd been assigned to bring in managed to take Tubbo hostage, well, there was really only one thing to do.

He knew, of course, he was signing himself up for torture and death by offering that trade, but that was okay.

It'd have to be okay.

AO3 Link (See AO3 for Warnings.)

(This story is finished and has been posted on AO3 for a while, but I'm posting it on Tumblr so it's somewhere else too (considering the day AO3 was down a bit ago). The author notes will all be kept as well. If you are following the blog and don't want to see these posts, block the tag #backlog.)

Author Note: Flashing gif in end author notes.

Tommy found himself tapping his fingers on his knee as he did his best to pay attention, or at least feign paying attention to the magazine Philza had let him read. It was boring as shit, one of those free ones you got in the mail about interior design. Considering Tommy did not have a house, did not have money to furnish a house, and probably would not be living through the week, it was pretty useless to him.

Philza shot him yet another odd look as he turned the page to see some weird couch that did not look at all comfortable. He was probably wondering why Tommy had chosen this magazine out of all of the reading material he’d been offered. Tommy was actually pretty sure he hadn’t even realized it was in the pile before Tommy picked it out. It’d probably just fallen out of the junk mail pile.

Tommy just smiled like he was having the time of his life and continued to read. The problem was, while he’d rather read literally anything else right now, he really did not want to get into the reading comprehension level discussion with a supervillain, because he knew how to read! He did! Tubbo had taught him but, uh, Tubbo… wasn’t particularly good at reading despite having someone to teach him up until he was 10, but they got by! Anyway, the point was, the selection of books Philza had brought him and even the other magazine with the lions on the cover had very small, very complicated words in them. Tommy refused to spend the last days of his life trying to sound out stupid complicated words.

…

He’d just spend the last days of his life staring at weird couches. How did people even sit on those things? Why were rich people like this?

He bit his lip and tapped his finger faster. He’d felt weird for the past couple of hours or so. There was energy buzzing under his skin for some reason Tommy couldn’t identify. He felt a strong urge to get up and start pacing or running or bouncing. He would really, really like to power bounce up a large hill and then control fall down it right about now, and the fact that such a thing wasn’t an option just made the horrible skin buzzing worse. Was this anxiety? Was he having an anxiety attack? Tubbo sometimes had anxiety attacks. They didn’t look like this, but maybe people were different. He certainly had reason to have anxiety attacks since he was basically literally reading a magazine in death’s waiting room.

He was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of the door beeping and then opening. Whippoorwill walked into the room looking far more casual than the other times Tommy had seen him. He still wore his mask, but he was dressed down in a pair of grey sweatpants and a cozy looking yellow sweater. He also had a guitar case on his back.

“Alright, old man,” he said without preamble. “It’s 10 o’clock. Senior citizen bedtime. Chop, chop.”

Tommy wasn’t sure what expression crossed Philza’s face, but it certainly wasn’t enthused. Tommy looked intently down at the magazine in his lap. Yet, instead of making Whippoorwill bleed for the insubordination, Philza just stood from the chair he’d pulled up next to the bed.

“Alright mate,” Philza said to Tommy. A hand descended on his shoulder and Tommy went still under it, as confused as he’d been every time he’d done something like that today. Why was he so touchy? Was it supposed to be a power move like when Dream would shove him around by the shoulder? If so, he was doing it wrong. It didn’t feel like a power move. “I’m going to go get some shut eye and be back in the morning. Whippoorwill will stay with you and will be on his best behavior.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Whippoorwill said in response to the reminder. “We’ll be fine.”

Philza squeezed Tommy’s shoulder softly and shot him a smile before gathering up the heavy thermos. He poured out the last bit of tea left into a paper cup and took the empty thermos and the books with him. “Night,” he said before closing the door leaving Tommy and Whippoorwill alone.

Whippoorwill moved closer once the door snapped closed and Tommy eyed him warily as he approached. Whippoorwill was the one who hated him the most and, while he was not supposed to be touching Tommy by Philza’s order, the older man would not be coming back for, what, 8 hours? He’s sure Whippoorwill could figure out something that didn’t leave marks in the meantime, especially with his powers. He considered the bag the villain had brought in with suspicion when he plopped it on the bed, but to his surprise nothing nefarious came out of it.

“Alright,” he said. “Toothbrush, toothpaste,” he tossed the items onto the bed next to Tommy’s legs. “Comb, a change of clothes if you’d like, and…” he paused staring into the bag. “That’s it. That’s everything in the bag. Are you going to want to try walking to the sink or do you want me to bring you over cups of water?”

“Uh, I’ll walk,” Tommy said. “I was able to make it to the bathroom just fine earlier.”

“Do you want to finish the tea first?” he asked.

Tommy shook his head. “It’s cold by now anyway,” he said, already shifting slowly to work on getting out of the bed. Whippoorwill hovered over him as he walked to the sink to brush his teeth. Either to make sure he didn’t fall or to make sure he didn’t try to sharpen it into a weapon, Tommy didn’t know. He was annoying as hell though. Luckily, he was left alone to use the toilet and change in the small room for that purpose, but he was right back to hovering while Tommy washed his hands afterwards. It was bizarre just going through a casual night routine while a prisoner locked in a room with one of his greatest enemies.

“Do you need more pain meds?” Whippoorwill asked as he observed Tommy wincing as he walked back to bed.

“I’m good,” Tommy replied.

“You seem sore,” Whippoorwill commented. Was he really trying to push for wasting pain meds on Tommy? To be fair, Philza had too. He couldn’t quite figure out why, but he did know he didn’t want his brain all foggy, so he shook his head.

“I’m fine. Philza got me some a bit before he left. They’re just taking a bit to kick in,” he lied.

He settled back into bed, his body both crying in relief because moving hurt and in frustration because moving around had helped him feel a little less like things were crawling around under his skin.

“Alright,” Whippoorwill declared once Tommy was settled again. “Bedtime.” There was no room for argument in his tone as he walked over to dim the lights enough that he could still see, but theoretically Tommy could sleep. Except… Tommy wasn’t tired.

Well, he was tired. He was exhausted actually, but he could already tell his body would not be sleeping anytime soon by the way his blood was pumping through his veins. He stared at the ceiling for a long few minutes.

“Do fish piss?”

“What?” Whippoorwill asked. He’d taken a seat in the chair Philza had vacated. “Yes. They’re animals.”

“I had a goldfish once. It died.”

“O-oh.”

“I think if goldfish could talk, they’d be right pissed at the world. Don’t you? Stuck in stupid little tanks and fishbowls ‘till they died. I’m never getting a goldfish again.”

“Uh, I mean…”

“You know what animals would probably be the biggest prick if they could talk? Cats. I bet it’d be cats. What do you think?”

“I think you should go to sleep,” Whippoorwill said.

Tommy frowned at him and then turned to face the ceiling. He started to jiggle his leg.

“That’s not sleep,” Whippoorwill said.

“Yeah, no shit,” Tommy spat back.

Whippoorwill was quiet for a moment. “Not tired?”

Tommy made a frustrated noise. “I’m not sure what I am. I’m all jittery.”

He looked over at Whippoorwill to see him glancing at the cold cup of tea on the nightstand. “Do you drink coffee, tea, or soda often?” he asked.

Tommy squinted at him. “Coffee’s gross, I thought tea was gross, and soda’s too expensive.”

“Yeah, you probably have a caffeine high since Philza physically could not stop himself from feeding you tea all day, and you’re not used to it.”

“Oh,” Tommy said. Now that he thought about it, he’d heard of caffeine highs before, but more from coffee and energy drinks. Wasn’t tea supposed to relax you? “Well, that sucks. This sucks. When do you think it’ll wear off?”

“How many did you drink today?”

“I don’t know,” Tommy answered. “Like 6.”

“6 refills of the thermos?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, you’re not sleeping tonight.”

Tommy groaned.

“Unless,” Whippoorwill said. “I could play you a song to help you sleep if you’d like.”

Tommy looked at him. “Like what you were doing when I woke up this morning?”

“Yep. I can sing you a song like that again, maybe with some words to make it a bit stronger. I’d be able to overpower the caffeine and let you sleep.”

Tommy bit his lip, but really he could do some weird singing thing to Tommy without his permission if he decided to anyway and it had been kind of nice before he’d woken up completely. “You’d do that?” he asked.

He nodded and reached over to grab the guitar case he’d set down next to him. He unzipped it and pulled the instrument out, settling it on his lap. “What would you want the song to be about?” he asked.

Tommy grinned. “Women and drugs.”

Whippoorwill cocked an eyebrow. “Are you old enough for women and drugs?” he asked skeptically.

“Hey! I’m a man! A big strong man! I’m older than you, probably.”

“Sure, Gremlin,” Wilbur replied. “Oh! There’s an idea,” he said and then began to sing. “There once was a gremlin with a head of blond hair. Whose temper and smell made a horrible pair. He’s annoying as fuck with a nose like a trunk. He’s truly a thing from my worst nightmare.”

“Fucking asshole,” Tommy muttered even as his eyelids flickered, the tune washing over him warm and soft even while the lyrics were lies and slander. The buzzing in his veins slowly petered out. Whippoorwill smiled at him as he relaxed against the pillows.

“So, go to sleep little gremlin, for I need a break, from the words that you spew when you are awake.”

“I’ll fuckin’,” Tommy paused to yawn. “I’ll f’in cut ya if ya don. Ya don…”

A soft laugh reverberated through the air without messing up the rhythm of the song. Tommy didn’t hear the next verse.

Tommy woke up to the weird caffeine buzz again and silence in the room. He groaned softly. Whippoorwill must have stopped singing and the caffeine took back over. Sighing, he let his eyes flicker open only to come face to face with Whippoorwill slumped over in his chair, face planted onto the bed, and snoring. Well, that explained why he wasn’t singing anymore. Tommy studied his sleeping face for a few minutes. Man, he wished he had a can of shaving cream and a feather right about now.

Sighing, he shifted slowly to push himself up into a sitting position while rubbing the sleep out of his eyes only to see a figure standing at the end of the bed staring at him.

“Hello Tommy,” it said.

Tommy yelped in surprise, making Whippoorwill stir slightly. As he did, the thing in front of him flickered a bit, disappearing for a second before coming back into focus.

“Shh,” the thing said. “You’ll wake him up.”

Holy shit, Tommy thought. Is this what caffeine does to you? He was never drinking caffeine again. Yet, the nightmare hallucination did not fade away as he pinched his own arm.

“I’m not a dream, Tommy,” it said, sounding amused. “At least not yours.”

“What the fuck,” Tommy breathed. It was the figure of a man, but the shape was not defined, faded at the edges. It was in a… startling familiar yellow sweater. Tommy glanced to Whippoorwill to see that, yep, it was an exact match except the one on this person(? Creature?) had a large rip down the middle with something that looked like blue ink staining the fabric around the gash. Its eyes glowed faintly as he watched Tommy.

“It’s okay,” it soothed. “I’m not here to hurt you.”

“I… what?” Tommy asked. “What are you?” The more he looked at it, the more and more unnatural the being in front of him looked.

“I’m a ghost,” it claimed. “At least, sort of. You can call me Ghostbur.”

“Ghostbur,” Tommy repeated. He was still ½ convinced this was a weird dream. “You’re a ghost?”

“Yep!” he said. “His ghost.” He pointed at Wilbur. As he did so, the guitar hanging perilously in the man’s sleeping grip began to slip. Ghostbur threw out a hand despite being too far away to reach it and Whippoorwill’s came up at the same moment, grabbing the guitar and then lowering it carefully onto the ground without the sleeping man ever stirring or moving anything but his arm.

“That… is the fucking weirdest shit I’ve ever seen,” Tommy said. Ghostbur just smiled serenely. Despite his absolutely unnatural appearance, his voice and mannerisms had been fairly chipper and kind so far. Tommy studied him carefully for a few long moments. “You look fucking scary as shit,” he informed him.

Ghostbur nodded seemingly not at all insulted by this statement. “Dad thought I was sleep paralysis for years,” he divulged.

“Your dad?”

“Phil!” the ghost proclaimed.

“Philza’s your…dad?” Tommy asked. That might explain a couple of things. “Wait, his name is Phil? Did he really just… add a ‘za’ to his name and call that a supervillain identity?”

“Uh huh,” was the earnest reply. “And Technoblade’s my itty-bitty baby brother.”

“You… you’re all related?”

“Well, Dad and I adopted Technoblade when he was 6, but yes!”

Tommy gave himself a few moments to absorb that. “Technoblade?” he finally asked.

“That’s his name!”

“What kind of name is Technoblade?”

Ghostbur shrugged. “He was born in the Nether. I wanted to rename him Jeremy, but Dad said no.”

“Blade’s from The Pit?” Tommy asked, shocked. “Wait, no. That actually explains a lot.”

The ghost hopped a bit to ‘sit’ on the bed, crisscrossing his legs and settling in front of Tommy, though he was actually hovering a few inches over the bedspread.

“How’d he escape the barrier?” Tommy asked. He’d never heard of anyone else escaping The Pit, though to be fair, he’d never broadcasted the information that he had to the public himself.

Ghostbur shrugged. “He doesn’t like to talk about it.”

Tommy bit his lip in thought. “What’s your name then?” Tommy asked, “or well, his name, I guess.” He nodded at the sleeping figure. Ghostbur wasn’t wearing a mask, he realized. This must be what Whippoorwill’s face looked like, baring the glowing eyes and blue tinge. “I don’t know how this works.”

“Wilbur,” Ghostbur told him cheerfully and without any regard for his own secret identity.

“So, all of your supervillain names… involve parts of your names?”

“Yeah!”

“You know that’s stupid, right? What’s my name supposed to be? Big Tomman. Wait, no, I actually kind of like that.”

Ghostbur laughed at him, the sound soft and wispy. He was looking at Tommy in a weird way. His bizarre glowing eyes were… doing a thing. He was a lot more chill that his awake/alive counterpart. Almost too chill considering he’d just given him all of the names of his allies… family without any hesitation. Not that Tommy wasn’t willing to use that free flow of information to his own benefit.

“So, I still don’t get it,” Tommy said. “You said you’re a ghost, which would mean you’re dead. But he’s not…”

“I was dead,” Ghostbur corrected. “I was stabbed by a villain who was mad at dad when I was 8. I ended up lingering as a ghost for a… long time. But then I got fixed and I got stuffed back into my body!”

“You got fixed?” Tommy asked. “From being dead?”

“Uh huh.”

“Well then if you’re fixed or whatever why are you…” he gestured to the ghost.

“I have a secondary astral projection power that developed after I was rebooted. He involuntarily astral projects in his sleep now. His waking brain is resting, so I take over. We’re kind of different and kind of the same.”

“Huh,” Tommy said. “Yeah, I’ll be honest buddy, that makes zero sense, but I might just be tired.”

“You can ask questions if you’d like,” Ghostbur said with an encouraging smile.

“Can you walk through walls?”

“Yep!” As though to demonstrate he sunk down until his legs sunk into the bed but was back to hovering a second later.

“Can you possess people?”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

“Can you use your screamy powers while a ghost?”

“If I try, they just come out of him. So, only if I’m in the same room as my body.”

“What’s the password to the door?”

Ghostbur shot him a small smile and reached forward to bop him on the nose. To Tommy’s surprise, he actually felt something, though it was not pressure. It was just cold and wet. He reached up to rub his nose and his fingers came away stained blue. Weird. “I like you,” Ghostbur said, “but I’m not giving up all of our secrets. Especially not when you might go back to Dream.”

Tommy pouted and Ghostbur laughed soft and gentle.

“Aw is the baby angry?” he mocked.

Tommy was immediately irritated. “I have suddenly decided I do not like you,” he proclaimed. “I am not a baby.”

“Itty bitty,” Ghostbur cooed, and god did Tommy wish throwing something at him would have an effect. “Just a baby. You’re not even a legal adult.”

Irritation shifted suddenly to a cold icy feeling gripping at his heart. “How the fuck do you know that?”

Ghostbur tilted his head at him, the teasing expression gone. “It’s alright,” he soothed.

“No,” Tommy said. “How the fuck do you know that?”

“I am usually not visible,” Ghostbur hedged. “In fact, it’s much easier to just be invisible especially the farther away I am from my body.”

“You watched me,” he whispered, a dawning horror pooling in his gut.

“I did,” Ghostbur admitted. “I followed you home the night after our first fight.”

“You…” Tommy said. That was worse than the cameras they would have had at the Guild supplied apartments, worse than the tagging system he’d barely escaped in The Pit, worse than the bimonthly mind checkups he shuddered his way though for work. At least those were things he knew about and could resist in some way. This was… not and it had been going on for months. “So, what has all of this been then?” he gritted out. There was wetness near his eyes, and he couldn’t come up with an excuse for why it wasn’t tears. “Was everything, all the fights and escapes, just a game to you three? You’ve just been toying with me? Letting me think I’ve been getting away because you already know everything about me and where I live?” A mouse being played with in the paws of a cat thinking it might live but being doomed from the start. He was always going to end up here, wasn’t he? Trapped at their mercy locked in this stupid room.

“No, no, no,” Ghostbur said, his hands up in a placating motion. “They don’t know all of that. Nothing about you or where you live.”

“What the fuck do you mean they don’t know?”

“Wilbur doesn’t know when he’s awake,” Ghostbur said. “I’ve been not letting that stuff through to the waking world. You’re okay, I promise. It’s nothing like that.”

He seemed earnest enough that it calmed Tommy just a tad. “I… but how? Why?”

“How is easy enough,” Ghostbur answered. “I just chose not to remember any of it when I’m him,” he pointed at Wilbur. “Why is…” he looked over at Tommy. “You were sad that day,” he explained. His eyes started to glow more and the dark blue liquid started to drip from them like fast flowing weird tears, staining the bedsheets in puddles. “You were only 15 then even if I didn’t know it, and Dream was so mean to you for losing which wasn’t fair because you were obviously so new. You walked home in the dark. It had snowed the night before, but you didn’t have anything to keep you warm. I followed you all the way home and was so relieved when there was someone there ready with a blanket and cuddles to help warm you back up.”

“You know about Tubbo too.” It wasn’t a question. Of course, he knew about Tubbo.

“I do,” he said, “but it’s okay. Awakebur didn’t need to know, so I didn’t tell him.”

“I… but I still don’t understand. You kept it from yourself?”

“The living,” Ghostbur said, a bit hesitantly, “don’t always see the bigger picture. Wilbur is me. He knows the same things as me for the most part, but he still forgets what matters sometimes. He gets wrapped up in life and gets angry over silly little things. I didn’t want to do anything that could hurt you or make you sad.”

“I… I still don’t get it,” Tommy said softly.

“That’s okay,” Ghostbur replied. “You’ll understand eventually.” He leaned forward so he was in Tommy’s face and Tommy went still, wondering what on Earth he was planning to do. He ended up touching his lips to Tommy’s forehead. Once again there was no pressure, just the cool wetness of the blue ink like stuff being rubbed off onto his skin. The ghost was smiling so hard he was squinting from it when he drew away. “Oh!” he said, his tone suddenly like an excited child. He leaned over and reached for the bag that had held the toothbrush and clothes earlier. He was able to pick it up apparently, though he stained the outside in blue. He didn’t seem to care about that though. “You should check my bag! Awakebur was silly, but I brought you a present!”

A present? Tommy blinked at the bag for a long few moments until it slipped through the ghost’s fingers. (Literally through his fingers. It seemed he could only hold onto things physically for a little bit.) He slowly reached to pick it up.

“It’s a cow plushie!” Ghostbur declared when he pulled it out and just stared at it. “You like cows, so I got one for you!”

“I…” Tommy did not know what to say. It was very, very nice: one of the big ones that usually cost, like, half his paycheck and it was unbelievably soft. He’d never had a stuffed animal before.

“And I got a bee one for Tubbo!” Ghostbur informed him.

“He’d…” Tommy said. “He’d like that.” Ghostbur was overtly pleased by him saying so, smiling and floating up and down a bit: bouncing. Tommy watched his excitement with a smile on his face. Wilbur fucking hated him, but whatever part of him was sitting in front of Tommy now clearly did not, especially if he’d really been keeping Tommy and Tubbo safe by hiding the things he knew even from himself. Thinking about Tubbo and the things Ghostbur knew, Tommy suddenly had an idea. “You know who Tubbo is,” Tommy breathed.

“Yes?”

“And you know where we live already.”

“Uh huh.”

“Can,” Tommy looked up at him desperately. “Can you go check on him for me? You don’t have to contact him or do anything, but can you just make sure he’s okay? He’s probably… well, you know how he’s clinging, right? He’s probably lost without me. I just want to know that he’s okay. Can you please check?”

“Of course,” Ghostbur said gently.

Tommy pulled the stuffed cow to his chest. “Thanks,” he said.

“You’re going to be okay,” Ghostbur said. “Alive people can be silly, but you’ll be okay, okay?”

He wasn’t sure if he could believe that. He wasn’t sure if Ghostbur could promise that when he was basically a dream, but he did feel a bit warmed by the promise. “Sure, Ghstorbur,” Tommy said to placate him. “I’ll be okay, but can you go check on Tubbo for me?”

Ghostbur watched him for a bit. “I’ll be back in a little while,” he promised, and then he disappeared into thin air.

Author Note:

(Flashing gif below.)

Wilbur about Tommy for the last, like, year:

Ghostbur about Tommy during the exact same time:

[wealthywomenco]

Taking Control Of Your Money

Money—whether you’re earning it, saving it, or investing it—holds the power to shape your life. Yet, many women still find themselves feeling unsure or overwhelmed when it comes to managing their finances. This blog post is designed to help women take charge of their financial futures, by breaking down key concepts of money management, financial independence, and long-term wealth building.

Let’s explore the key strategies women can use to take control of their finances and empower themselves in a world where financial independence is more achievable than ever.

1. Understanding Your Financial Worth

The first step to taking control of your money is understanding your financial worth. This means becoming aware of your income, expenses, and overall financial health. It’s important to know how much you earn, how much you spend, and where your money is going.

Action Steps:

Track your monthly income and expenses using a simple spreadsheet or apps like Mint or You Need a Budget.

Review your bills and subscriptions to identify areas where you can cut costs.

Regularly check your credit score (which can be done for free through services like Credit Karma) to stay on top of your financial standing.

2. Creating a Budget and Sticking to It

A budget is your blueprint for financial success. It helps you allocate your income to cover your essentials (housing, food, utilities) while also saving for long-term goals like retirement or travel.

How to Create a Budget:

50/30/20 Rule: Allocate 50% of your income for needs (housing, food, utilities), 30% for wants (entertainment, shopping), and 20% for savings and debt repayment.

Use budget tracking tools like EveryDollar or PocketGuard to stay on track.

Having a budget isn’t about limiting your enjoyment of life—it’s about creating a plan for financial freedom. Sticking to a budget helps reduce financial stress and ensures that you can meet both your short-term and long-term financial goals.

3. Building an Emergency Fund

Life is full of surprises—unexpected medical bills, car repairs, or job loss can happen at any time. An emergency fund is a financial cushion that gives you peace of mind and keeps you from going into debt when life’s unexpected expenses arise.

How to Build an Emergency Fund:

Start small—aim to save at least $500 to $1,000 as an initial goal.

Gradually increase your savings until you have enough to cover 3 to 6 months' worth of living expenses.

Set up automatic transfers into a high-yield savings account so your fund grows without you having to think about it.

Having an emergency fund is a vital step toward financial stability and independence.

4. Saving and Investing for the Future

Saving for the future is essential, but investing takes it a step further. While savings accounts are great for short-term goals, investing is how you build wealth over time. By investing in stocks, bonds, or real estate, you can grow your money and prepare for retirement.

Why Women Should Invest:

Women tend to live longer than men, so having a solid investment plan ensures that you’ll have enough money to live comfortably in retirement.

Investing helps beat inflation and provides higher returns than a traditional savings account.

Ways to Invest:

Start with low-risk investments: If you're new to investing, consider starting with low-risk options like index funds or mutual funds.

401(k) and IRAs: Contribute to employer-sponsored retirement accounts (like a 401(k)) or open an IRA for additional tax benefits.

Robo-advisors: Platforms like Betterment or Wealthfront provide automated investing services, making it easy for beginners to start investing with minimal effort.

Even small, consistent investments can add up over time, so start as early as possible to let compound interest work its magic.

5. Getting Out of Debt

Debt can feel like a weight that holds you back from financial freedom. Whether it’s credit card debt, student loans, or personal loans, finding a strategy to pay it off is crucial for your financial health.

How to Pay Off Debt:

Debt Snowball Method: Start by paying off your smallest debt first, then move on to larger ones once it’s paid off. This builds momentum and motivation.

Debt Avalanche Method: Focus on paying off the debt with the highest interest rate first, saving you money on interest in the long run.

Consider refinancing options or consolidating debt if it’s overwhelming, but make sure to avoid accumulating new debt in the process. Freeing yourself from debt gives you more financial freedom to save, invest, and live the life you want.

6. Negotiating Your Salary

It’s essential to recognize the value you bring to your job and feel empowered to ask for what you deserve. Unfortunately, many women don’t negotiate their salary, often leaving money on the table. Studies show that women earn significantly less than men, and negotiating your salary is one way to close this gap.

Tips for Successful Salary Negotiation:

Do your research: Use websites like Glassdoor or PayScale to understand the market rate for your role.

Know your worth: Highlight your achievements, skills, and experience during the conversation.

Practice and be confident: Approach the discussion with confidence and be prepared to back up your request with data.

Negotiating your salary is an important way to take control of your financial future, and the more you practice it, the more comfortable you’ll become.

7. Building Multiple Streams of Income

One of the best ways to accelerate your financial independence is to have multiple streams of income. This can come from side hustles, freelance work, or passive income sources. Building additional streams of income provides financial security and more room to invest for the future.

Ideas for Multiple Streams of Income:

Freelancing: Whether it's writing, graphic design, or consulting, offering services on platforms like Upwork or Fiverr can supplement your main income.

Online Businesses: Start an online store, sell digital products, or launch a blog.

Real Estate: Invest in rental properties to earn passive income.

The key is to find income sources that align with your skills and interests while diversifying your financial portfolio.

8. Financial Independence and Early Retirement (FIRE)

The FIRE movement is all about achieving financial independence as quickly as possible, so you can retire early and live life on your own terms. This involves saving aggressively, reducing unnecessary expenses, and investing wisely.

Steps to Achieve FIRE:

Aim to save at least 50% or more of your income.

Live below your means by cutting back on non-essential spending.

Invest in low-cost index funds or other long-term growth assets.

While FIRE may not be a practical goal for everyone, it’s an inspiring concept that encourages women to take control of their finances and prioritize long-term wealth building.

Conclusion

Taking control of your finances isn’t just about making money—it’s about making informed, empowering choices that will secure your financial future. Whether it’s budgeting, saving, investing, or negotiating for better pay, there are countless ways for women to manage their money and achieve financial independence.

By setting financial goals, building an emergency fund, and starting to invest, you can take control of your money and live a life of financial freedom. The path to financial empowerment is within reach—it's time to take that first step toward securing your future.

[digitalmarketingagency-dgs]

The Best Graphic Design Tools for Beginners and Professionals

Graphic design is all about creativity, and the tools you use can make all the difference. Whether you're just starting out or have years of experience, choosing the right design software is key to bringing your ideas to life. In this blog, we’ll look at some of the best graphic design tools, from simple options for beginners to powerful software for seasoned professionals.

For Beginners: Easy-to-Use Tools to Get Started

If you’re new to graphic design, you need tools that are simple to use but still allow you to create professional-looking work. Here are some great options for beginners:

1. Canva: Simple and Accessible

Canva is perfect for beginners. It’s user-friendly, with a drag-and-drop interface that makes designing easy, even if you have no experience. Whether you're creating social media posts, flyers, or presentations, Canva has plenty of templates to help you get started.

Why it's great for beginners:

Free and Easy to Use: No design experience required.

Templates for Everything: Tons of pre-made templates for quick and easy designs.

2. Crello: Similar to Canva

Crello is another tool that’s similar to Canva, offering easy-to-use features and a wide range of templates. It’s great for beginners who want to experiment with both static and animated designs.

Why it's great for beginners:

Lots of Templates: A variety of design options, including social media posts and advertisements.

Animation Options: You can add simple animations to your designs.

3. Gravit Designer: Vector Design Made Simple

Gravit Designer is a free vector-based tool that’s great for creating logos, icons, and other scalable designs. It’s simple enough for beginners but still offers powerful features to help you create professional designs.

Why it's great for beginners:

Cloud-Based: Works on any device, so you can design anywhere.

Straightforward Interface: Easy to use with an intuitive layout.

For Professionals: Advanced Tools for Complex Designs

As you grow in your graphic design career, you’ll need more advanced tools to handle intricate projects. Here are some of the top tools used by professional designers:

4. Adobe Photoshop: The Classic Design Tool

Adobe Photoshop is one of the most well-known design tools. It’s the industry standard for photo editing, digital painting, and graphic creation. Whether you're working on images, posters, or advanced designs, Photoshop gives you complete control.

Why it's great for professionals:

Powerful Features: Ideal for photo manipulation and creating detailed designs.

Industry Standard: Trusted by professionals worldwide.

5. Adobe Illustrator: Perfect for Vector Art

If you're designing logos, illustrations, or anything that needs to be scalable, Illustrator is the tool you want. It’s known for creating clean, precise vector graphics that won’t lose quality, no matter how much you resize them.

Why it's great for professionals:

Precision: Offers fine control over vector-based designs.

Ideal for Branding: Perfect for creating logos and brand assets.

6. Affinity Designer: A Budget-Friendly Alternative

If you’re looking for a more affordable option to Illustrator, Affinity Designer is a great choice. It offers many of the same features as Illustrator but at a one-time cost, making it a budget-friendly alternative for professionals.

Why it's great for professionals:

Affordable: No subscription required, just a one-time purchase.

Versatile: Great for both vector and raster designs.

7. Sketch: For Digital Product Design

Sketch is a top tool for UI/UX design, especially for web and mobile app projects. It’s specifically made for creating user interfaces and prototypes, making it a go-to tool for digital product designers.

Why it's great for professionals:

Focused on UI/UX: Great for creating digital interfaces and prototypes.

Efficient Workflow: Makes designing for digital products easier and faster.

Bonus Tool: Figma (Great for Both Beginners and Professionals)

Figma is a cloud-based design tool that’s become popular for both beginners and professionals. It’s perfect for creating web and app designs, and its collaboration features allow multiple people to work on the same file in real-time.

Why it’s great for both beginners and professionals:

Cloud-Based: Work on designs from any device, anytime.

Collaboration-Friendly: Multiple people can edit and comment on the same project at the same time.

Conclusion: Find the Right Tool for You

Choosing the right design tool depends on your level of experience and what you need to create. If you're just starting out, tools like Canva or Crello are easy to use and great for learning the basics. As you gain more experience, you’ll likely want to switch to advanced tools like Adobe Photoshop or Illustrator for more complex designs.

Remember, the best tool for you is the one that suits your creative process and helps you get the job done efficiently. So, don’t be afraid to experiment with different tools until you find the one that works best for your style and workflow. Happy designing!

[tameblog]

On August 24th, 2009, I wrote the first post on my secret blog. Ten years later, I’m writing this post. Ten years is a decade. Double digits. The decade mark at this job I made up is a great time to consider my past and my future in it. So, I thought I’d share my current perspective with those of you who have been loyal participants in my deslobification journey. Things change over ten years. Ten years ago, I had little faith that I would ever actually figure out how to get my home under control. I’d failed so many times before that I assumed this would be another burst of focus on my home that would fizzle. Ten years ago, I was petrified of anyone finding out that I was the person behind the blog. Behind the fake name, the photos of an excessively cluttered home, and the confessions of what went on inside my head. Ten years ago, I believed in my heart that sharing my deep, dark secret was temporary, and that one day I would move on to writing about things that didn’t make me feel like a failure. Ten years later, I know how to keep my home under control. I understand what I was and wasn’t doing and why my home would continually go back into chaos. I know what causes the fizzle, I know that life will never be fizzle-free, and I know what to do pre-fizzle or mid-fizzle or post-fizzle to get things back on track. Ten years later, I understand that there are many people like me in the world. Sharing my struggles isn’t (as) scary with my community of people who understand that self-acceptance doesn’t mean circumstance-acceptance, and that understanding myself is better than trying to be someone else. Ten years later, I can’t pretend writing about this stuff is temporary. This is the thing I know and the thing I teach. What is different? Blogging doesn’t look the way it looked when I started. People read blogs differently than they did back in Aught-Nine. What was a practice blog has turned into my business. So even though it’s still fun, I’m not doing it for fun. I’m doing this job because God made it clear that this is the career He designed for me. He wants me to help other women, some just like I was (and many who have never been as bad as I was), to understand their homes and themselves and improve both. I’m also doing it because the oldest of my kids, who were 7, 5 and 3 when I started, has one more year before he heads to college. And college is expensive. So what does this mean? I think of almost everything in terms of The Container Concept, even the hours in my day. I have to give hours to the most important things first. I decide how important something is based on how many people it helps, both immediately and long term, and how much I enjoy doing that thing. A Slob Comes Clean began as a journal chronicling what I was doing, what worked and what didn’t. I wrote every single day, and I loved doing that. Writing my in-the-moment discoveries and internal struggles and victories (and failures) helped me and continues to help people who read those posts. My deslobification journal continues to exist here on the blog. On any given day, there are many people reading the blog backwards to understand the real-time realities of making changes. There are two reasons I don’t write in that style very often anymore. First, most people don’t read that way anymore. When I started, the people who read my blog spent most of their internet time reading blogs. I used to have 6-10 favorite blogs that I would check every day. Most blog readers were the same, so reading a journal was the norm. Now, most people spend their “internet time” on social media. This means people get to my blog from somewhere else instead of coming here directly.  They arrive on an individual post, brought here by a Google search on a specific topic or from social media where they’ve seen a link that interests them. Or “my people” tend to arrive from my newsletter. No matter how someone arrives, my goal is always to help them figure out whether they are one of us and then help them find more of what they need. Second, my house and I have changed. After ten years, I’ve figured it out. I’ve journaled it. I’ve cleaned or decluttered or re-cleaned or re-decluttered it. Don’t worry. I will always (ALWAYS) have more to re-clean and re-declutter since a big part of what I have learned about myself in this process is that I’m a gifted re-clutterer. But I’ve written about it all before. Multiple times. So now, I share insights or new analogies or clarifications that go through my brain as I continue using my hard-learned strategies to maintain my home. When I can share something that will help make the decluttering strategies clearer, I do. But I no longer write a blog post every time I run the dishwasher or pick up socks in the living room. I would enjoy the challenge of trying to make it interesting every time, but honestly, there are other things I need to be doing with my time. So what does A Slob Comes Clean look like now? The blog keeps going. It’s my heart and I love writing here. But as I’ve done for a while now, the articles discuss a certain decluttering or cleaning strategy instead of serving as a journal of everything I do in my own home. The podcast keeps going at full force, every week.  When I meet people in real life, the vast majority (like, approximately, 19 out of 20) say they are podcast listeners. It’s a medium that works so well for the things I share. You can listen to me talk about routines and cleaning and decluttering while you’re doing those things! I love doing the podcast, it helps people, and now that I have sponsorships most episodes, it requires space in the Container of my calendar. Another book is coming.  My main focus for the upcoming school year (which is also my blog year), is on writing another book. A VERY different book. Still related to cleaning, but different. It’s a book that has been on my heart for over a year now, so it’s time to arrange my Calendar Container to give it the space it needs. Books expand the reach of my message of hope. People learn in different ways, and many people who would never read a blog will read a book. And the whole reason I wanted to blog so badly that I was willing to practice with one about my deepest, darkest secret was that I wanted to be an author! Other Things Going On: The newsletter, which goes out once or twice a week in a normal week, is where I write about more day to day stuff. I share what is currently going on and the struggles or victories in my home along with a link to either the newest blog post (so you don’t miss it) or an older post that has proven to be helpful. Join me there. Instagram is another place where it’s easier for me to share what I’m currently working on in my home. Easier = I can share a picture and a quick explanation instead of writing an entire post. (Feeling like I “need to blog about this” can cause me to put off a cleaning or decluttering project, which defeats the purpose of why I started this blog in the first place!) Follow me there. I’m continuing to work on expanding the reach of what I’ve already done. A Continuing Education Unit that I helped create for mental health professionals who work with clients with ADHD is coming out soon. I also have projects planned for working specifically with realtors and professional organizers. If that’s you, click on those titles to get on the email lists I’ll use to let you know when those things are ready! If you wonder what my typical day looks like or what goes into the different things I do around here, listen to this podcast. Thank YOU! If you read to the end, there’s a good chance you’re one of “my people.” I can’t thank you enough for joining me on this fun ride. I continue to be in awe that I don’t have to do this deslobification thing alone. --Nony Related Posts: !function(f,b,e,v,n,t,s)if(f.fbq)return;n=f.fbq=function()n.callMethod? n.callMethod.apply(n,arguments):n.queue.push(arguments);if(!f._fbq)f._fbq=n; n.push=n;n.loaded=!0;n.version='2.0';n.queue=[];t=b.createElement(e);t.async=!0; t.src=v;s=b.getElementsByTagName(e)[0];s.parentNode.insertBefore(t,s)(window, document,'script','//connect.facebook.net/en_US/fbevents.js'); fbq('init', '1712009765708377'); fbq('track', "PageView");(function(d, s, id) var js, fjs = d.getElementsByTagName(s)[0]; if (d.getElementById(id)) return; js = d.createElement(s); js.id = id; js.src = "//connect.facebook.net/en_US/sdk.js#xfbml=1&version=v2.8&appId=593275940768565"; fjs.parentNode.insertBefore(js, fjs); (document, 'script', 'facebook-jssdk')); Source link

[ramestoryworld]

On August 24th, 2009, I wrote the first post on my secret blog. Ten years later, I’m writing this post. Ten years is a decade. Double digits. The decade mark at this job I made up is a great time to consider my past and my future in it. So, I thought I’d share my current perspective with those of you who have been loyal participants in my deslobification journey. Things change over ten years. Ten years ago, I had little faith that I would ever actually figure out how to get my home under control. I’d failed so many times before that I assumed this would be another burst of focus on my home that would fizzle. Ten years ago, I was petrified of anyone finding out that I was the person behind the blog. Behind the fake name, the photos of an excessively cluttered home, and the confessions of what went on inside my head. Ten years ago, I believed in my heart that sharing my deep, dark secret was temporary, and that one day I would move on to writing about things that didn’t make me feel like a failure. Ten years later, I know how to keep my home under control. I understand what I was and wasn’t doing and why my home would continually go back into chaos. I know what causes the fizzle, I know that life will never be fizzle-free, and I know what to do pre-fizzle or mid-fizzle or post-fizzle to get things back on track. Ten years later, I understand that there are many people like me in the world. Sharing my struggles isn’t (as) scary with my community of people who understand that self-acceptance doesn’t mean circumstance-acceptance, and that understanding myself is better than trying to be someone else. Ten years later, I can’t pretend writing about this stuff is temporary. This is the thing I know and the thing I teach. What is different? Blogging doesn’t look the way it looked when I started. People read blogs differently than they did back in Aught-Nine. What was a practice blog has turned into my business. So even though it’s still fun, I’m not doing it for fun. I’m doing this job because God made it clear that this is the career He designed for me. He wants me to help other women, some just like I was (and many who have never been as bad as I was), to understand their homes and themselves and improve both. I’m also doing it because the oldest of my kids, who were 7, 5 and 3 when I started, has one more year before he heads to college. And college is expensive. So what does this mean? I think of almost everything in terms of The Container Concept, even the hours in my day. I have to give hours to the most important things first. I decide how important something is based on how many people it helps, both immediately and long term, and how much I enjoy doing that thing. A Slob Comes Clean began as a journal chronicling what I was doing, what worked and what didn’t. I wrote every single day, and I loved doing that. Writing my in-the-moment discoveries and internal struggles and victories (and failures) helped me and continues to help people who read those posts. My deslobification journal continues to exist here on the blog. On any given day, there are many people reading the blog backwards to understand the real-time realities of making changes. There are two reasons I don’t write in that style very often anymore. First, most people don’t read that way anymore. When I started, the people who read my blog spent most of their internet time reading blogs. I used to have 6-10 favorite blogs that I would check every day. Most blog readers were the same, so reading a journal was the norm. Now, most people spend their “internet time” on social media. This means people get to my blog from somewhere else instead of coming here directly.  They arrive on an individual post, brought here by a Google search on a specific topic or from social media where they’ve seen a link that interests them. Or “my people” tend to arrive from my newsletter. No matter how someone arrives, my goal is always to help them figure out whether they are one of us and then help them find more of what they need. Second, my house and I have changed. After ten years, I’ve figured it out. I’ve journaled it. I’ve cleaned or decluttered or re-cleaned or re-decluttered it. Don’t worry. I will always (ALWAYS) have more to re-clean and re-declutter since a big part of what I have learned about myself in this process is that I’m a gifted re-clutterer. But I’ve written about it all before. Multiple times. So now, I share insights or new analogies or clarifications that go through my brain as I continue using my hard-learned strategies to maintain my home. When I can share something that will help make the decluttering strategies clearer, I do. But I no longer write a blog post every time I run the dishwasher or pick up socks in the living room. I would enjoy the challenge of trying to make it interesting every time, but honestly, there are other things I need to be doing with my time. So what does A Slob Comes Clean look like now? The blog keeps going. It’s my heart and I love writing here. But as I’ve done for a while now, the articles discuss a certain decluttering or cleaning strategy instead of serving as a journal of everything I do in my own home. The podcast keeps going at full force, every week.  When I meet people in real life, the vast majority (like, approximately, 19 out of 20) say they are podcast listeners. It’s a medium that works so well for the things I share. You can listen to me talk about routines and cleaning and decluttering while you’re doing those things! I love doing the podcast, it helps people, and now that I have sponsorships most episodes, it requires space in the Container of my calendar. Another book is coming.  My main focus for the upcoming school year (which is also my blog year), is on writing another book. A VERY different book. Still related to cleaning, but different. It’s a book that has been on my heart for over a year now, so it’s time to arrange my Calendar Container to give it the space it needs. Books expand the reach of my message of hope. People learn in different ways, and many people who would never read a blog will read a book. And the whole reason I wanted to blog so badly that I was willing to practice with one about my deepest, darkest secret was that I wanted to be an author! Other Things Going On: The newsletter, which goes out once or twice a week in a normal week, is where I write about more day to day stuff. I share what is currently going on and the struggles or victories in my home along with a link to either the newest blog post (so you don’t miss it) or an older post that has proven to be helpful. Join me there. Instagram is another place where it’s easier for me to share what I’m currently working on in my home. Easier = I can share a picture and a quick explanation instead of writing an entire post. (Feeling like I “need to blog about this” can cause me to put off a cleaning or decluttering project, which defeats the purpose of why I started this blog in the first place!) Follow me there. I’m continuing to work on expanding the reach of what I’ve already done. A Continuing Education Unit that I helped create for mental health professionals who work with clients with ADHD is coming out soon. I also have projects planned for working specifically with realtors and professional organizers. If that’s you, click on those titles to get on the email lists I’ll use to let you know when those things are ready! If you wonder what my typical day looks like or what goes into the different things I do around here, listen to this podcast. Thank YOU! If you read to the end, there’s a good chance you’re one of “my people.” I can’t thank you enough for joining me on this fun ride. I continue to be in awe that I don’t have to do this deslobification thing alone. --Nony Related Posts: !function(f,b,e,v,n,t,s)if(f.fbq)return;n=f.fbq=function()n.callMethod? n.callMethod.apply(n,arguments):n.queue.push(arguments);if(!f._fbq)f._fbq=n; n.push=n;n.loaded=!0;n.version='2.0';n.queue=[];t=b.createElement(e);t.async=!0; t.src=v;s=b.getElementsByTagName(e)[0];s.parentNode.insertBefore(t,s)(window, document,'script','//connect.facebook.net/en_US/fbevents.js'); fbq('init', '1712009765708377'); fbq('track', "PageView");(function(d, s, id) var js, fjs = d.getElementsByTagName(s)[0]; if (d.getElementById(id)) return; js = d.createElement(s); js.id = id; js.src = "//connect.facebook.net/en_US/sdk.js#xfbml=1&version=v2.8&appId=593275940768565"; fjs.parentNode.insertBefore(js, fjs); (document, 'script', 'facebook-jssdk')); Source link

[alexha2210]

On August 24th, 2009, I wrote the first post on my secret blog. Ten years later, I’m writing this post. Ten years is a decade. Double digits. The decade mark at this job I made up is a great time to consider my past and my future in it. So, I thought I’d share my current perspective with those of you who have been loyal participants in my deslobification journey. Things change over ten years. Ten years ago, I had little faith that I would ever actually figure out how to get my home under control. I’d failed so many times before that I assumed this would be another burst of focus on my home that would fizzle. Ten years ago, I was petrified of anyone finding out that I was the person behind the blog. Behind the fake name, the photos of an excessively cluttered home, and the confessions of what went on inside my head. Ten years ago, I believed in my heart that sharing my deep, dark secret was temporary, and that one day I would move on to writing about things that didn’t make me feel like a failure. Ten years later, I know how to keep my home under control. I understand what I was and wasn’t doing and why my home would continually go back into chaos. I know what causes the fizzle, I know that life will never be fizzle-free, and I know what to do pre-fizzle or mid-fizzle or post-fizzle to get things back on track. Ten years later, I understand that there are many people like me in the world. Sharing my struggles isn’t (as) scary with my community of people who understand that self-acceptance doesn’t mean circumstance-acceptance, and that understanding myself is better than trying to be someone else. Ten years later, I can’t pretend writing about this stuff is temporary. This is the thing I know and the thing I teach. What is different? Blogging doesn’t look the way it looked when I started. People read blogs differently than they did back in Aught-Nine. What was a practice blog has turned into my business. So even though it’s still fun, I’m not doing it for fun. I’m doing this job because God made it clear that this is the career He designed for me. He wants me to help other women, some just like I was (and many who have never been as bad as I was), to understand their homes and themselves and improve both. I’m also doing it because the oldest of my kids, who were 7, 5 and 3 when I started, has one more year before he heads to college. And college is expensive. So what does this mean? I think of almost everything in terms of The Container Concept, even the hours in my day. I have to give hours to the most important things first. I decide how important something is based on how many people it helps, both immediately and long term, and how much I enjoy doing that thing. A Slob Comes Clean began as a journal chronicling what I was doing, what worked and what didn’t. I wrote every single day, and I loved doing that. Writing my in-the-moment discoveries and internal struggles and victories (and failures) helped me and continues to help people who read those posts. My deslobification journal continues to exist here on the blog. On any given day, there are many people reading the blog backwards to understand the real-time realities of making changes. There are two reasons I don’t write in that style very often anymore. First, most people don’t read that way anymore. When I started, the people who read my blog spent most of their internet time reading blogs. I used to have 6-10 favorite blogs that I would check every day. Most blog readers were the same, so reading a journal was the norm. Now, most people spend their “internet time” on social media. This means people get to my blog from somewhere else instead of coming here directly.  They arrive on an individual post, brought here by a Google search on a specific topic or from social media where they’ve seen a link that interests them. Or “my people” tend to arrive from my newsletter. No matter how someone arrives, my goal is always to help them figure out whether they are one of us and then help them find more of what they need. Second, my house and I have changed. After ten years, I’ve figured it out. I’ve journaled it. I’ve cleaned or decluttered or re-cleaned or re-decluttered it. Don’t worry. I will always (ALWAYS) have more to re-clean and re-declutter since a big part of what I have learned about myself in this process is that I’m a gifted re-clutterer. But I’ve written about it all before. Multiple times. So now, I share insights or new analogies or clarifications that go through my brain as I continue using my hard-learned strategies to maintain my home. When I can share something that will help make the decluttering strategies clearer, I do. But I no longer write a blog post every time I run the dishwasher or pick up socks in the living room. I would enjoy the challenge of trying to make it interesting every time, but honestly, there are other things I need to be doing with my time. So what does A Slob Comes Clean look like now? The blog keeps going. It’s my heart and I love writing here. But as I’ve done for a while now, the articles discuss a certain decluttering or cleaning strategy instead of serving as a journal of everything I do in my own home. The podcast keeps going at full force, every week.  When I meet people in real life, the vast majority (like, approximately, 19 out of 20) say they are podcast listeners. It’s a medium that works so well for the things I share. You can listen to me talk about routines and cleaning and decluttering while you’re doing those things! I love doing the podcast, it helps people, and now that I have sponsorships most episodes, it requires space in the Container of my calendar. Another book is coming.  My main focus for the upcoming school year (which is also my blog year), is on writing another book. A VERY different book. Still related to cleaning, but different. It’s a book that has been on my heart for over a year now, so it’s time to arrange my Calendar Container to give it the space it needs. Books expand the reach of my message of hope. People learn in different ways, and many people who would never read a blog will read a book. And the whole reason I wanted to blog so badly that I was willing to practice with one about my deepest, darkest secret was that I wanted to be an author! Other Things Going On: The newsletter, which goes out once or twice a week in a normal week, is where I write about more day to day stuff. I share what is currently going on and the struggles or victories in my home along with a link to either the newest blog post (so you don’t miss it) or an older post that has proven to be helpful. Join me there. Instagram is another place where it’s easier for me to share what I’m currently working on in my home. Easier = I can share a picture and a quick explanation instead of writing an entire post. (Feeling like I “need to blog about this” can cause me to put off a cleaning or decluttering project, which defeats the purpose of why I started this blog in the first place!) Follow me there. I’m continuing to work on expanding the reach of what I’ve already done. A Continuing Education Unit that I helped create for mental health professionals who work with clients with ADHD is coming out soon. I also have projects planned for working specifically with realtors and professional organizers. If that’s you, click on those titles to get on the email lists I’ll use to let you know when those things are ready! If you wonder what my typical day looks like or what goes into the different things I do around here, listen to this podcast. Thank YOU! If you read to the end, there’s a good chance you’re one of “my people.” I can’t thank you enough for joining me on this fun ride. I continue to be in awe that I don’t have to do this deslobification thing alone. --Nony Related Posts: !function(f,b,e,v,n,t,s)if(f.fbq)return;n=f.fbq=function()n.callMethod? n.callMethod.apply(n,arguments):n.queue.push(arguments);if(!f._fbq)f._fbq=n; n.push=n;n.loaded=!0;n.version='2.0';n.queue=[];t=b.createElement(e);t.async=!0; t.src=v;s=b.getElementsByTagName(e)[0];s.parentNode.insertBefore(t,s)(window, document,'script','//connect.facebook.net/en_US/fbevents.js'); fbq('init', '1712009765708377'); fbq('track', "PageView");(function(d, s, id) var js, fjs = d.getElementsByTagName(s)[0]; if (d.getElementById(id)) return; js = d.createElement(s); js.id = id; js.src = "//connect.facebook.net/en_US/sdk.js#xfbml=1&version=v2.8&appId=593275940768565"; fjs.parentNode.insertBefore(js, fjs); (document, 'script', 'facebook-jssdk')); Source link

[angusstory]

On August 24th, 2009, I wrote the first post on my secret blog. Ten years later, I’m writing this post. Ten years is a decade. Double digits. The decade mark at this job I made up is a great time to consider my past and my future in it. So, I thought I’d share my current perspective with those of you who have been loyal participants in my deslobification journey. Things change over ten years. Ten years ago, I had little faith that I would ever actually figure out how to get my home under control. I’d failed so many times before that I assumed this would be another burst of focus on my home that would fizzle. Ten years ago, I was petrified of anyone finding out that I was the person behind the blog. Behind the fake name, the photos of an excessively cluttered home, and the confessions of what went on inside my head. Ten years ago, I believed in my heart that sharing my deep, dark secret was temporary, and that one day I would move on to writing about things that didn’t make me feel like a failure. Ten years later, I know how to keep my home under control. I understand what I was and wasn’t doing and why my home would continually go back into chaos. I know what causes the fizzle, I know that life will never be fizzle-free, and I know what to do pre-fizzle or mid-fizzle or post-fizzle to get things back on track. Ten years later, I understand that there are many people like me in the world. Sharing my struggles isn’t (as) scary with my community of people who understand that self-acceptance doesn’t mean circumstance-acceptance, and that understanding myself is better than trying to be someone else. Ten years later, I can’t pretend writing about this stuff is temporary. This is the thing I know and the thing I teach. What is different? Blogging doesn’t look the way it looked when I started. People read blogs differently than they did back in Aught-Nine. What was a practice blog has turned into my business. So even though it’s still fun, I’m not doing it for fun. I’m doing this job because God made it clear that this is the career He designed for me. He wants me to help other women, some just like I was (and many who have never been as bad as I was), to understand their homes and themselves and improve both. I’m also doing it because the oldest of my kids, who were 7, 5 and 3 when I started, has one more year before he heads to college. And college is expensive. So what does this mean? I think of almost everything in terms of The Container Concept, even the hours in my day. I have to give hours to the most important things first. I decide how important something is based on how many people it helps, both immediately and long term, and how much I enjoy doing that thing. A Slob Comes Clean began as a journal chronicling what I was doing, what worked and what didn’t. I wrote every single day, and I loved doing that. Writing my in-the-moment discoveries and internal struggles and victories (and failures) helped me and continues to help people who read those posts. My deslobification journal continues to exist here on the blog. On any given day, there are many people reading the blog backwards to understand the real-time realities of making changes. There are two reasons I don’t write in that style very often anymore. First, most people don’t read that way anymore. When I started, the people who read my blog spent most of their internet time reading blogs. I used to have 6-10 favorite blogs that I would check every day. Most blog readers were the same, so reading a journal was the norm. Now, most people spend their “internet time” on social media. This means people get to my blog from somewhere else instead of coming here directly.  They arrive on an individual post, brought here by a Google search on a specific topic or from social media where they’ve seen a link that interests them. Or “my people” tend to arrive from my newsletter. No matter how someone arrives, my goal is always to help them figure out whether they are one of us and then help them find more of what they need. Second, my house and I have changed. After ten years, I’ve figured it out. I’ve journaled it. I’ve cleaned or decluttered or re-cleaned or re-decluttered it. Don’t worry. I will always (ALWAYS) have more to re-clean and re-declutter since a big part of what I have learned about myself in this process is that I’m a gifted re-clutterer. But I’ve written about it all before. Multiple times. So now, I share insights or new analogies or clarifications that go through my brain as I continue using my hard-learned strategies to maintain my home. When I can share something that will help make the decluttering strategies clearer, I do. But I no longer write a blog post every time I run the dishwasher or pick up socks in the living room. I would enjoy the challenge of trying to make it interesting every time, but honestly, there are other things I need to be doing with my time. So what does A Slob Comes Clean look like now? The blog keeps going. It’s my heart and I love writing here. But as I’ve done for a while now, the articles discuss a certain decluttering or cleaning strategy instead of serving as a journal of everything I do in my own home. The podcast keeps going at full force, every week.  When I meet people in real life, the vast majority (like, approximately, 19 out of 20) say they are podcast listeners. It’s a medium that works so well for the things I share. You can listen to me talk about routines and cleaning and decluttering while you’re doing those things! I love doing the podcast, it helps people, and now that I have sponsorships most episodes, it requires space in the Container of my calendar. Another book is coming.  My main focus for the upcoming school year (which is also my blog year), is on writing another book. A VERY different book. Still related to cleaning, but different. It’s a book that has been on my heart for over a year now, so it’s time to arrange my Calendar Container to give it the space it needs. Books expand the reach of my message of hope. People learn in different ways, and many people who would never read a blog will read a book. And the whole reason I wanted to blog so badly that I was willing to practice with one about my deepest, darkest secret was that I wanted to be an author! Other Things Going On: The newsletter, which goes out once or twice a week in a normal week, is where I write about more day to day stuff. I share what is currently going on and the struggles or victories in my home along with a link to either the newest blog post (so you don’t miss it) or an older post that has proven to be helpful. Join me there. Instagram is another place where it’s easier for me to share what I’m currently working on in my home. Easier = I can share a picture and a quick explanation instead of writing an entire post. (Feeling like I “need to blog about this” can cause me to put off a cleaning or decluttering project, which defeats the purpose of why I started this blog in the first place!) Follow me there. I’m continuing to work on expanding the reach of what I’ve already done. A Continuing Education Unit that I helped create for mental health professionals who work with clients with ADHD is coming out soon. I also have projects planned for working specifically with realtors and professional organizers. If that’s you, click on those titles to get on the email lists I’ll use to let you know when those things are ready! If you wonder what my typical day looks like or what goes into the different things I do around here, listen to this podcast. Thank YOU! If you read to the end, there’s a good chance you’re one of “my people.” I can’t thank you enough for joining me on this fun ride. I continue to be in awe that I don’t have to do this deslobification thing alone. --Nony Related Posts: !function(f,b,e,v,n,t,s)if(f.fbq)return;n=f.fbq=function()n.callMethod? n.callMethod.apply(n,arguments):n.queue.push(arguments);if(!f._fbq)f._fbq=n; n.push=n;n.loaded=!0;n.version='2.0';n.queue=[];t=b.createElement(e);t.async=!0; t.src=v;s=b.getElementsByTagName(e)[0];s.parentNode.insertBefore(t,s)(window, document,'script','//connect.facebook.net/en_US/fbevents.js'); fbq('init', '1712009765708377'); fbq('track', "PageView");(function(d, s, id) var js, fjs = d.getElementsByTagName(s)[0]; if (d.getElementById(id)) return; js = d.createElement(s); js.id = id; js.src = "//connect.facebook.net/en_US/sdk.js#xfbml=1&version=v2.8&appId=593275940768565"; fjs.parentNode.insertBefore(js, fjs); (document, 'script', 'facebook-jssdk')); Source link

[tumibaba]

On August 24th, 2009, I wrote the first post on my secret blog. Ten years later, I’m writing this post. Ten years is a decade. Double digits. The decade mark at this job I made up is a great time to consider my past and my future in it. So, I thought I’d share my current perspective with those of you who have been loyal participants in my deslobification journey. Things change over ten years. Ten years ago, I had little faith that I would ever actually figure out how to get my home under control. I’d failed so many times before that I assumed this would be another burst of focus on my home that would fizzle. Ten years ago, I was petrified of anyone finding out that I was the person behind the blog. Behind the fake name, the photos of an excessively cluttered home, and the confessions of what went on inside my head. Ten years ago, I believed in my heart that sharing my deep, dark secret was temporary, and that one day I would move on to writing about things that didn’t make me feel like a failure. Ten years later, I know how to keep my home under control. I understand what I was and wasn’t doing and why my home would continually go back into chaos. I know what causes the fizzle, I know that life will never be fizzle-free, and I know what to do pre-fizzle or mid-fizzle or post-fizzle to get things back on track. Ten years later, I understand that there are many people like me in the world. Sharing my struggles isn’t (as) scary with my community of people who understand that self-acceptance doesn’t mean circumstance-acceptance, and that understanding myself is better than trying to be someone else. Ten years later, I can’t pretend writing about this stuff is temporary. This is the thing I know and the thing I teach. What is different? Blogging doesn’t look the way it looked when I started. People read blogs differently than they did back in Aught-Nine. What was a practice blog has turned into my business. So even though it’s still fun, I’m not doing it for fun. I’m doing this job because God made it clear that this is the career He designed for me. He wants me to help other women, some just like I was (and many who have never been as bad as I was), to understand their homes and themselves and improve both. I’m also doing it because the oldest of my kids, who were 7, 5 and 3 when I started, has one more year before he heads to college. And college is expensive. So what does this mean? I think of almost everything in terms of The Container Concept, even the hours in my day. I have to give hours to the most important things first. I decide how important something is based on how many people it helps, both immediately and long term, and how much I enjoy doing that thing. A Slob Comes Clean began as a journal chronicling what I was doing, what worked and what didn’t. I wrote every single day, and I loved doing that. Writing my in-the-moment discoveries and internal struggles and victories (and failures) helped me and continues to help people who read those posts. My deslobification journal continues to exist here on the blog. On any given day, there are many people reading the blog backwards to understand the real-time realities of making changes. There are two reasons I don’t write in that style very often anymore. First, most people don’t read that way anymore. When I started, the people who read my blog spent most of their internet time reading blogs. I used to have 6-10 favorite blogs that I would check every day. Most blog readers were the same, so reading a journal was the norm. Now, most people spend their “internet time” on social media. This means people get to my blog from somewhere else instead of coming here directly.  They arrive on an individual post, brought here by a Google search on a specific topic or from social media where they’ve seen a link that interests them. Or “my people” tend to arrive from my newsletter. No matter how someone arrives, my goal is always to help them figure out whether they are one of us and then help them find more of what they need. Second, my house and I have changed. After ten years, I’ve figured it out. I’ve journaled it. I’ve cleaned or decluttered or re-cleaned or re-decluttered it. Don’t worry. I will always (ALWAYS) have more to re-clean and re-declutter since a big part of what I have learned about myself in this process is that I’m a gifted re-clutterer. But I’ve written about it all before. Multiple times. So now, I share insights or new analogies or clarifications that go through my brain as I continue using my hard-learned strategies to maintain my home. When I can share something that will help make the decluttering strategies clearer, I do. But I no longer write a blog post every time I run the dishwasher or pick up socks in the living room. I would enjoy the challenge of trying to make it interesting every time, but honestly, there are other things I need to be doing with my time. So what does A Slob Comes Clean look like now? The blog keeps going. It’s my heart and I love writing here. But as I’ve done for a while now, the articles discuss a certain decluttering or cleaning strategy instead of serving as a journal of everything I do in my own home. The podcast keeps going at full force, every week.  When I meet people in real life, the vast majority (like, approximately, 19 out of 20) say they are podcast listeners. It’s a medium that works so well for the things I share. You can listen to me talk about routines and cleaning and decluttering while you’re doing those things! I love doing the podcast, it helps people, and now that I have sponsorships most episodes, it requires space in the Container of my calendar. Another book is coming.  My main focus for the upcoming school year (which is also my blog year), is on writing another book. A VERY different book. Still related to cleaning, but different. It’s a book that has been on my heart for over a year now, so it’s time to arrange my Calendar Container to give it the space it needs. Books expand the reach of my message of hope. People learn in different ways, and many people who would never read a blog will read a book. And the whole reason I wanted to blog so badly that I was willing to practice with one about my deepest, darkest secret was that I wanted to be an author! Other Things Going On: The newsletter, which goes out once or twice a week in a normal week, is where I write about more day to day stuff. I share what is currently going on and the struggles or victories in my home along with a link to either the newest blog post (so you don’t miss it) or an older post that has proven to be helpful. Join me there. Instagram is another place where it’s easier for me to share what I’m currently working on in my home. Easier = I can share a picture and a quick explanation instead of writing an entire post. (Feeling like I “need to blog about this” can cause me to put off a cleaning or decluttering project, which defeats the purpose of why I started this blog in the first place!) Follow me there. I’m continuing to work on expanding the reach of what I’ve already done. A Continuing Education Unit that I helped create for mental health professionals who work with clients with ADHD is coming out soon. I also have projects planned for working specifically with realtors and professional organizers. If that’s you, click on those titles to get on the email lists I’ll use to let you know when those things are ready! If you wonder what my typical day looks like or what goes into the different things I do around here, listen to this podcast. Thank YOU! If you read to the end, there’s a good chance you’re one of “my people.” I can’t thank you enough for joining me on this fun ride. I continue to be in awe that I don’t have to do this deslobification thing alone. --Nony Related Posts: !function(f,b,e,v,n,t,s)if(f.fbq)return;n=f.fbq=function()n.callMethod? n.callMethod.apply(n,arguments):n.queue.push(arguments);if(!f._fbq)f._fbq=n; n.push=n;n.loaded=!0;n.version='2.0';n.queue=[];t=b.createElement(e);t.async=!0; t.src=v;s=b.getElementsByTagName(e)[0];s.parentNode.insertBefore(t,s)(window, document,'script','//connect.facebook.net/en_US/fbevents.js'); fbq('init', '1712009765708377'); fbq('track', "PageView");(function(d, s, id) var js, fjs = d.getElementsByTagName(s)[0]; if (d.getElementById(id)) return; js = d.createElement(s); js.id = id; js.src = "//connect.facebook.net/en_US/sdk.js#xfbml=1&version=v2.8&appId=593275940768565"; fjs.parentNode.insertBefore(js, fjs); (document, 'script', 'facebook-jssdk')); Source link

[romaleen]

On August 24th, 2009, I wrote the first post on my secret blog. Ten years later, I’m writing this post. Ten years is a decade. Double digits. The decade mark at this job I made up is a great time to consider my past and my future in it. So, I thought I’d share my current perspective with those of you who have been loyal participants in my deslobification journey. Things change over ten years. Ten years ago, I had little faith that I would ever actually figure out how to get my home under control. I’d failed so many times before that I assumed this would be another burst of focus on my home that would fizzle. Ten years ago, I was petrified of anyone finding out that I was the person behind the blog. Behind the fake name, the photos of an excessively cluttered home, and the confessions of what went on inside my head. Ten years ago, I believed in my heart that sharing my deep, dark secret was temporary, and that one day I would move on to writing about things that didn’t make me feel like a failure. Ten years later, I know how to keep my home under control. I understand what I was and wasn’t doing and why my home would continually go back into chaos. I know what causes the fizzle, I know that life will never be fizzle-free, and I know what to do pre-fizzle or mid-fizzle or post-fizzle to get things back on track. Ten years later, I understand that there are many people like me in the world. Sharing my struggles isn’t (as) scary with my community of people who understand that self-acceptance doesn’t mean circumstance-acceptance, and that understanding myself is better than trying to be someone else. Ten years later, I can’t pretend writing about this stuff is temporary. This is the thing I know and the thing I teach. What is different? Blogging doesn’t look the way it looked when I started. People read blogs differently than they did back in Aught-Nine. What was a practice blog has turned into my business. So even though it’s still fun, I’m not doing it for fun. I’m doing this job because God made it clear that this is the career He designed for me. He wants me to help other women, some just like I was (and many who have never been as bad as I was), to understand their homes and themselves and improve both. I’m also doing it because the oldest of my kids, who were 7, 5 and 3 when I started, has one more year before he heads to college. And college is expensive. So what does this mean? I think of almost everything in terms of The Container Concept, even the hours in my day. I have to give hours to the most important things first. I decide how important something is based on how many people it helps, both immediately and long term, and how much I enjoy doing that thing. A Slob Comes Clean began as a journal chronicling what I was doing, what worked and what didn’t. I wrote every single day, and I loved doing that. Writing my in-the-moment discoveries and internal struggles and victories (and failures) helped me and continues to help people who read those posts. My deslobification journal continues to exist here on the blog. On any given day, there are many people reading the blog backwards to understand the real-time realities of making changes. There are two reasons I don’t write in that style very often anymore. First, most people don’t read that way anymore. When I started, the people who read my blog spent most of their internet time reading blogs. I used to have 6-10 favorite blogs that I would check every day. Most blog readers were the same, so reading a journal was the norm. Now, most people spend their “internet time” on social media. This means people get to my blog from somewhere else instead of coming here directly.  They arrive on an individual post, brought here by a Google search on a specific topic or from social media where they’ve seen a link that interests them. Or “my people” tend to arrive from my newsletter. No matter how someone arrives, my goal is always to help them figure out whether they are one of us and then help them find more of what they need. Second, my house and I have changed. After ten years, I’ve figured it out. I’ve journaled it. I’ve cleaned or decluttered or re-cleaned or re-decluttered it. Don’t worry. I will always (ALWAYS) have more to re-clean and re-declutter since a big part of what I have learned about myself in this process is that I’m a gifted re-clutterer. But I’ve written about it all before. Multiple times. So now, I share insights or new analogies or clarifications that go through my brain as I continue using my hard-learned strategies to maintain my home. When I can share something that will help make the decluttering strategies clearer, I do. But I no longer write a blog post every time I run the dishwasher or pick up socks in the living room. I would enjoy the challenge of trying to make it interesting every time, but honestly, there are other things I need to be doing with my time. So what does A Slob Comes Clean look like now? The blog keeps going. It’s my heart and I love writing here. But as I’ve done for a while now, the articles discuss a certain decluttering or cleaning strategy instead of serving as a journal of everything I do in my own home. The podcast keeps going at full force, every week.  When I meet people in real life, the vast majority (like, approximately, 19 out of 20) say they are podcast listeners. It’s a medium that works so well for the things I share. You can listen to me talk about routines and cleaning and decluttering while you’re doing those things! I love doing the podcast, it helps people, and now that I have sponsorships most episodes, it requires space in the Container of my calendar. Another book is coming.  My main focus for the upcoming school year (which is also my blog year), is on writing another book. A VERY different book. Still related to cleaning, but different. It’s a book that has been on my heart for over a year now, so it’s time to arrange my Calendar Container to give it the space it needs. Books expand the reach of my message of hope. People learn in different ways, and many people who would never read a blog will read a book. And the whole reason I wanted to blog so badly that I was willing to practice with one about my deepest, darkest secret was that I wanted to be an author! Other Things Going On: The newsletter, which goes out once or twice a week in a normal week, is where I write about more day to day stuff. I share what is currently going on and the struggles or victories in my home along with a link to either the newest blog post (so you don’t miss it) or an older post that has proven to be helpful. Join me there. Instagram is another place where it’s easier for me to share what I’m currently working on in my home. Easier = I can share a picture and a quick explanation instead of writing an entire post. (Feeling like I “need to blog about this” can cause me to put off a cleaning or decluttering project, which defeats the purpose of why I started this blog in the first place!) Follow me there. I’m continuing to work on expanding the reach of what I’ve already done. A Continuing Education Unit that I helped create for mental health professionals who work with clients with ADHD is coming out soon. I also have projects planned for working specifically with realtors and professional organizers. If that’s you, click on those titles to get on the email lists I’ll use to let you know when those things are ready! If you wonder what my typical day looks like or what goes into the different things I do around here, listen to this podcast. Thank YOU! If you read to the end, there’s a good chance you’re one of “my people.” I can’t thank you enough for joining me on this fun ride. I continue to be in awe that I don’t have to do this deslobification thing alone. --Nony Related Posts: !function(f,b,e,v,n,t,s)if(f.fbq)return;n=f.fbq=function()n.callMethod? n.callMethod.apply(n,arguments):n.queue.push(arguments);if(!f._fbq)f._fbq=n; n.push=n;n.loaded=!0;n.version='2.0';n.queue=[];t=b.createElement(e);t.async=!0; t.src=v;s=b.getElementsByTagName(e)[0];s.parentNode.insertBefore(t,s)(window, document,'script','//connect.facebook.net/en_US/fbevents.js'); fbq('init', '1712009765708377'); fbq('track', "PageView");(function(d, s, id) var js, fjs = d.getElementsByTagName(s)[0]; if (d.getElementById(id)) return; js = d.createElement(s); js.id = id; js.src = "//connect.facebook.net/en_US/sdk.js#xfbml=1&version=v2.8&appId=593275940768565"; fjs.parentNode.insertBefore(js, fjs); (document, 'script', 'facebook-jssdk')); Source link

[monaleen101]

On August 24th, 2009, I wrote the first post on my secret blog. Ten years later, I’m writing this post. Ten years is a decade. Double digits. The decade mark at this job I made up is a great time to consider my past and my future in it. So, I thought I’d share my current perspective with those of you who have been loyal participants in my deslobification journey. Things change over ten years. Ten years ago, I had little faith that I would ever actually figure out how to get my home under control. I’d failed so many times before that I assumed this would be another burst of focus on my home that would fizzle. Ten years ago, I was petrified of anyone finding out that I was the person behind the blog. Behind the fake name, the photos of an excessively cluttered home, and the confessions of what went on inside my head. Ten years ago, I believed in my heart that sharing my deep, dark secret was temporary, and that one day I would move on to writing about things that didn’t make me feel like a failure. Ten years later, I know how to keep my home under control. I understand what I was and wasn’t doing and why my home would continually go back into chaos. I know what causes the fizzle, I know that life will never be fizzle-free, and I know what to do pre-fizzle or mid-fizzle or post-fizzle to get things back on track. Ten years later, I understand that there are many people like me in the world. Sharing my struggles isn’t (as) scary with my community of people who understand that self-acceptance doesn’t mean circumstance-acceptance, and that understanding myself is better than trying to be someone else. Ten years later, I can’t pretend writing about this stuff is temporary. This is the thing I know and the thing I teach. What is different? Blogging doesn’t look the way it looked when I started. People read blogs differently than they did back in Aught-Nine. What was a practice blog has turned into my business. So even though it’s still fun, I’m not doing it for fun. I’m doing this job because God made it clear that this is the career He designed for me. He wants me to help other women, some just like I was (and many who have never been as bad as I was), to understand their homes and themselves and improve both. I’m also doing it because the oldest of my kids, who were 7, 5 and 3 when I started, has one more year before he heads to college. And college is expensive. So what does this mean? I think of almost everything in terms of The Container Concept, even the hours in my day. I have to give hours to the most important things first. I decide how important something is based on how many people it helps, both immediately and long term, and how much I enjoy doing that thing. A Slob Comes Clean began as a journal chronicling what I was doing, what worked and what didn’t. I wrote every single day, and I loved doing that. Writing my in-the-moment discoveries and internal struggles and victories (and failures) helped me and continues to help people who read those posts. My deslobification journal continues to exist here on the blog. On any given day, there are many people reading the blog backwards to understand the real-time realities of making changes. There are two reasons I don’t write in that style very often anymore. First, most people don’t read that way anymore. When I started, the people who read my blog spent most of their internet time reading blogs. I used to have 6-10 favorite blogs that I would check every day. Most blog readers were the same, so reading a journal was the norm. Now, most people spend their “internet time” on social media. This means people get to my blog from somewhere else instead of coming here directly.  They arrive on an individual post, brought here by a Google search on a specific topic or from social media where they’ve seen a link that interests them. Or “my people” tend to arrive from my newsletter. No matter how someone arrives, my goal is always to help them figure out whether they are one of us and then help them find more of what they need. Second, my house and I have changed. After ten years, I’ve figured it out. I’ve journaled it. I’ve cleaned or decluttered or re-cleaned or re-decluttered it. Don’t worry. I will always (ALWAYS) have more to re-clean and re-declutter since a big part of what I have learned about myself in this process is that I’m a gifted re-clutterer. But I’ve written about it all before. Multiple times. So now, I share insights or new analogies or clarifications that go through my brain as I continue using my hard-learned strategies to maintain my home. When I can share something that will help make the decluttering strategies clearer, I do. But I no longer write a blog post every time I run the dishwasher or pick up socks in the living room. I would enjoy the challenge of trying to make it interesting every time, but honestly, there are other things I need to be doing with my time. So what does A Slob Comes Clean look like now? The blog keeps going. It’s my heart and I love writing here. But as I’ve done for a while now, the articles discuss a certain decluttering or cleaning strategy instead of serving as a journal of everything I do in my own home. The podcast keeps going at full force, every week.  When I meet people in real life, the vast majority (like, approximately, 19 out of 20) say they are podcast listeners. It’s a medium that works so well for the things I share. You can listen to me talk about routines and cleaning and decluttering while you’re doing those things! I love doing the podcast, it helps people, and now that I have sponsorships most episodes, it requires space in the Container of my calendar. Another book is coming.  My main focus for the upcoming school year (which is also my blog year), is on writing another book. A VERY different book. Still related to cleaning, but different. It’s a book that has been on my heart for over a year now, so it’s time to arrange my Calendar Container to give it the space it needs. Books expand the reach of my message of hope. People learn in different ways, and many people who would never read a blog will read a book. And the whole reason I wanted to blog so badly that I was willing to practice with one about my deepest, darkest secret was that I wanted to be an author! Other Things Going On: The newsletter, which goes out once or twice a week in a normal week, is where I write about more day to day stuff. I share what is currently going on and the struggles or victories in my home along with a link to either the newest blog post (so you don’t miss it) or an older post that has proven to be helpful. Join me there. Instagram is another place where it’s easier for me to share what I’m currently working on in my home. Easier = I can share a picture and a quick explanation instead of writing an entire post. (Feeling like I “need to blog about this” can cause me to put off a cleaning or decluttering project, which defeats the purpose of why I started this blog in the first place!) Follow me there. I’m continuing to work on expanding the reach of what I’ve already done. A Continuing Education Unit that I helped create for mental health professionals who work with clients with ADHD is coming out soon. I also have projects planned for working specifically with realtors and professional organizers. If that’s you, click on those titles to get on the email lists I’ll use to let you know when those things are ready! If you wonder what my typical day looks like or what goes into the different things I do around here, listen to this podcast. Thank YOU! If you read to the end, there’s a good chance you’re one of “my people.” I can’t thank you enough for joining me on this fun ride. I continue to be in awe that I don’t have to do this deslobification thing alone. --Nony Related Posts: !function(f,b,e,v,n,t,s)if(f.fbq)return;n=f.fbq=function()n.callMethod? n.callMethod.apply(n,arguments):n.queue.push(arguments);if(!f._fbq)f._fbq=n; n.push=n;n.loaded=!0;n.version='2.0';n.queue=[];t=b.createElement(e);t.async=!0; t.src=v;s=b.getElementsByTagName(e)[0];s.parentNode.insertBefore(t,s)(window, document,'script','//connect.facebook.net/en_US/fbevents.js'); fbq('init', '1712009765708377'); fbq('track', "PageView");(function(d, s, id) var js, fjs = d.getElementsByTagName(s)[0]; if (d.getElementById(id)) return; js = d.createElement(s); js.id = id; js.src = "//connect.facebook.net/en_US/sdk.js#xfbml=1&version=v2.8&appId=593275940768565"; fjs.parentNode.insertBefore(js, fjs); (document, 'script', 'facebook-jssdk')); Source link