A bedroom that is clean and clutter-free is often something that leads to other areas of your life becoming just as clean and free of clutter. As someone who often struggles with this myself, this is a list of ways to keep your bedroom looking like it was just cleaned.
Make your bed as soon as you get out of it.
I know this seems pretty stupid, but making your bed is a fast and simple way to make your entire room look cleaner. Wake up five minutes earlier if you have to, but making your bed sets a productive tone for the day and let’s be real, getting into a freshly made bed is so satisfying.
Take care of dust as soon as you see it.
This is one that seems obvious, but you know you’re guilty of looking at collecting dust and thinking, Wow, I should take care of that soon. The next time you see some starting to arrive just take a sock and wipe it up. You can throw the sock right in the laundry and be through with it.
Make sure ‘the chair’ is cleared off.
You know the chair. I know you know the chair, because I know the chair. Everyone knows the chair. Piled up laundry and crumpled up homework litter it, and you might not eve remember the way it looks under all of it. Clean the chair off, do the laundry, throw out the homework, and put a cute lil pillow on it.
Clean the windowsill.
This one seems trivial, I know. But bare with me. Take down the curtains and wash them. While they’re on the spin cycle, vacuum the blinds and clean your windows. Then de-clutter the windowsill itself. Now it won’t look so gross when you try to open up for a little natural light.
Stop stockpiling dishes.
This one might just be me, but I often find my room littered with empty tea mugs and bowls. Usually I’m collecting them on my bedside table. Instead of holding onto it, bring them to the kitchen as soon as you’re finished and you’ll find that it looks a lot neater. Also, don’t just leave them in the sink. Wash them now and get it over and done with.
Lastly, you have to be proactive. Instead of looking at the candy wrapper on your desk and thinking, Oh I’ll get it later, get it now. Don’t put it off. Personally, I clean my room every Sunday after any friends have gone home and I’m about to start a new week. Nothing in your routine will change unless you keep on top of it.
How do I show what my main character looks like if I'm using first person but I don't want to use the overused mirror description? Thank you so much!
Well, the first thing I’m going to ask is … how much does it matter what your character looks like?
I know! I know!
Your character is cool and beautiful and has great hair and interesting eyes and … who cares?
I’m not being facetious or trying to be rude or belittling here, that is a serious question: Who cares what your character looks like? Because answering that will get you well on your way to figuring out how you’re going to describe them.
You’re writing in the first person, which means that unless your character habitually hangs about mooning over their own appearance, it’s going to be pretty weird for them to just offer, unprompted, a description of themselves.
Think about what might prompt your character to think about their own personal appearance:
Are they self-conscious? Do they catch glimpses of their own reflection from the corner of their eyes and cringe and think oh no, I really should fix my hair, and is that sauce on my chin? I think I can feel a booger in my nose – what if people can see it!?
Are they around people who care what they look like? Is their mother going to bail them up and tell them off for not brushing their hair, ask if they’ve cleaned their teeth – and just how long have you been wearing that shirt? Take it off! Put something clean on right now! Or does their best friend comment something like gosh, I wish my hair was nice and curly like yours, or ugh, you’re so stuck up just because you think you’re pretty!
Generally, I would suggest focussing less on what the character looks like and more on how they feel about how they look. If your character is generally confident and doesn’t really think about their appearance, we might only get generalisations of what they look like when they interact with something in the environment:
I’m sticking out like crazy, stuck in the middle of the grey moors with my flaming red hair. I’m so busy trying to stuff it under my wooly cap that I almost don’t see the figure creeping along the ridge.
Or, if they’re more self conscious, think about what they’re worried about and why – a character might focus on their crooked teeth and totally fail to make a big deal about their hair colour or eye colour!
Think about your character, think about the things that they’re proud of about their appearance, and think about when they might take the time to ensure those aspects of their personal presentation are the focus of attention. Likewise, think about what they dislike about their appearance, and how their relationship to those parts of themselves might colour their self perception, or how they believe others are perceiving them.
Another thing to consider is whether the character has any features that might cause them to experience micro-aggressions, or which might mean that they experience mistreatment from others. Are they dark-skinned, disabled, do they have scars or birthmarks, are they gender non-conforming, do they look different to the majority of people around them in some way?
In these cases, while the character may like, or dislike, or be ambivalent about their own features, they will probably be aware of and braced for some kind of negative reaction to varying degrees. These are important elements of characterisation to consider, but they are somewhat outside of the scope of this blog, and if you have any questions about them I would encourage you to seek out other members of the script family, and other specialised writing advice blogs that can help you with these more experiential kinds of aspects of characterisation.
I hope that helps!
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Metamorphosis (4/10) | Once upon a time, Dan Howell and Phil Lester were best friends. They did everything together, from hanging out at each other’s house, to sitting next to each other at school - but one day, Dan was torn away from Phil by none other than Phil himself. Five years on, and Dan still doesn’t know why his best friend threw Dan away. Was it the fault of the bullies who relentlessly picked on Phil, or was it Dan himself? Dan just didn’t know. So when a chance to protect Phil and get his best friend back arises, Dan jumps on it in a heartbeat, and uses his own confidence to boost Phil’s just enough to make the bullies back away. | Phan | Teen and Up | High School AU, Bullying, Getting Together, Make Over Fic, Kissing Booth, Kissing Lessons | 3,323 Words this chapter
Disclaimer: In no way do I pretend that this is real or cast aspersions on Dan or Phil.
Thanks again to my beta etoilesdephan for her wonderful help editing this fic <33
Deadpool thumbed through his cell phone as he stood in the middle of Peter’s apartment like he had been invited in. He had not.
Peter’s fingers itched to pull out his own phone and call the police; however, he hadn’t been able to pay his phone bill for the last two months, so the phone was currently tucked under the mattress of Peter’s bed and dead.
“Ah-ha!” Deadpool punched the air victoriously. His head swiveled around the austere studio apartment. Crumbs speckled the decade-old carpet, and a plate squatted on the only table Peter owned. The blankets on the bed were strewn in every direction, and a couple shirts and a pair of socks lay discarded on the floor.
Peter internally chastised himself for putting off cleaning for the last few days. He then chastised himself again for worrying about the state of his apartment when he had much bigger things to worry about.
“Now I understand the bachelor pad,” Deadpool stated with glee. He put one hand on hip as he posed proudly. “So I was lying earlier when I said I had done my research.”
“No.” Peter feigned being aghast. “Really?”
Oblivious or willfully ignorant, Deadpool did not notice Peter’s sarcasm. “I know, I know. It’s a terrible way to start a relationship, but to be fair, I thought you had lied first.”
Peter gestured to the space around him. “When? We literally just met.”
“When you acted like you weren’t Spider-Man. Duh.” Deadpool shook his head. “You really aren’t the brightest of the Peters, are you?”
A quip danced on the tip of Peter’s tongue, but he bit it back. He really would be stupid if he kept sassing the mercenary with two katana on his back and an unknown amount of guns on his person.
“Anyway, I forgive you.”
For what? Peter wanted to ask.
“Looks like you had it rough in this universe, buddy. It’s pretty common for your parents to die when you’re young in every universe, but Uncle Ben and Aunt May too? Of course, Uncle Ben had to go, but usually you’re a teenager when it happens. Them going before your parents?” Deadpool whistled. “That’s real bad luck. But hey! At least you got emancipation when you were sixteen.” Deadpool gave Peter a thumbs up. “That’s amazing, Baby Boy! Getting emancipation is no easy feat.”
Anger and hurt seethed through Peter. His fists clenched and shook at his sides. Acerbic words curled in Peter’s throat, but he was unable to give them voice unless he wanted to risk Deadpool beheading him out of false self-righteous ire.
Deadpool though… Deadpool had just so casually and callously laid out some of the most heartbreaking parts of Peter’s past like he was reading them out of a novel.
Deadpool clasped his hands together and raised them to his cheek. Singing off-key, Deadpool belted, “Singing my life with his words. Killing me softly with his song, killing me softly~”
The non sequitur came at Peter like a truck T-boning him in the intersection. “What?”
“Sorry, I was just getting this weird vibe from you. The song seemed appropriate.” Deadpool smiled. “I do that sometimes.”
Peter nodded slowly. “Are you always this chipper?”
Deadpool scoffed. “Fuck no. In fact, I find this fucking annoying.” Somehow, Deadpool’s mask managed to convey that he was glaring. “I came all this way to start what should be a beautiful and meaningful relationship with you, and you’re not you.” Deadpool gestured at Peter. “Obviously, you are you, but you’re not Spider-Man you, and that would be like me not being Deadpool. Sure, I’m still me, but I’m missing out on a very important and awesome part of my character. You get me?”
“Not really,” Peter admitted.
Deadpool huffed and seized Peter by the hand.
Peter yelped as Deadpool yanked him toward the window. “It’s okay. We’ll just go have a talk with Dr. Strange. Then you’ll understand what’s going on.”
Peter yanked his hand out from Deadpool’s. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
Deadpool nodded. He hummed in consideration as he stroked his chin. “I hear you, Baby Boy. This is probably pretty scary for you, especially since you don’t have your Spidey powers.” Deadpool dropped his hand from his chin and cocked his head. “However, there’s still one problem here.”
Peter stiffened in anticipation of Deadpool’s next move.
“You see,” Deadpool held his arms out and shrugged, “I’m not one of the good guys yet, and even when I am one, I’m more of an anti-hero.”
Deadpool lunged at Peter.
Peter yelped and threw a punch at Deadpool. The mercenary ducked and threw his arms around Peter’s waist.
One moment Peter’s world was right-side-up, and the next everything was upside-down. Literally.
Deadpool’s shoulder dug into Peter’s stomach as the mercenary carried Peter over his shoulder to the window. He rested one hand on Peter’s ass.
Peter kicked and punched Deadpool’s back. “Let me go.”
“As I said, Baby Boy,“ Deadpool opened the window. He didn’t even flinch from Peter’s blows, “I’m not a good guy.”
Imagine Harrison leaving you a message before returning to E-2.
You were tidying up the guest room when you found the note. Harry had only stayed in the spare room in your house a few times but you had put off cleaning out the remaining evidence of his stay. Stripping the sheets, emptying the wastebasket, dusting here and there as needed. There really wasn’t that much that needed to be done. He hadn’t left much behind. A small stack of books on the bedside table and a handful of stray pages filled with scrawling calculations were all he had really left behind.
At least, that was what you thought.
You found the note when you were putting the books back in your bookshelf. It slipped out from between the pages, fluttering to the floor. You frowned and picked it up, confused to see your name printed in Harry’s familiar writing. You carefully unfolded the note, unsure of what to expect.
A small smile curled your lips at the simple message scrawled across the scrap of paper.
Anonymous asked: to ana: are you taking writing ideas for dean? I think it would be really dramatic and angst (my favorite) for dean to find something of cas’s and completely break down in a post. it would def need talented writing to pull it off, and I think you’re the person. anyways, just an idea and I love your works :)
A/N: You’re request came at the most opportune time, my friend :) Been wanting to write this one for a while :)
I’ve put it off enough.
Every car in the garage has been cleaned twice since everything happened, all
except that junk pickup… He just showed up in it after I went to ground zero. I
thought it was better than the pimpmobile he had before but… It just looks like
a pile of scrap metal without someone to drive her. Sue me if I think about cars
But like I said, I’ve put
off cleaning the truck. I didn’t know what I was gonna find in there after all
the damn diapers.
The back of the truck was
empty after we got rid of the diapers, but the inside still had that busted up
piece of leather Cas called seats. The thing needs a fresh set of just about everything,
but Cas always did like to keep his cars as clean as he could given what he
had. The pimpmobile never had food or dirt in it, though in fairness Cas didn’t
eat and he had mojo to heal wounds back then…
The thing still looked
clean even if it hasn’t been driven in a while. I thought I could just get in
and give it a whirl to keep the engine up to speed and the oil from not sitting
in there. Didn’t even think about what else could be in there, or what was in
the cassette player.
The tracks are easy to
remember, probably because I spent a solid eighteen hours transferring each one
over a few years ago. Led Zeppelin was the soundtrack of my life. Still is. “Ramble
On” would go into “Traveling Riverside Blues,” “What is and What Should Never
Be” coming next right after. 13 tracks… All of them from times in my life, all
of them meaning something that hit home with me.
… I told him to keep it.
It made sense that it’s here… I remember giving him the damn thing, after he’d
asked who “Agents Clapton and Page” were based off of. The amount of hours I
spent trying to get the guy to see the point of Zepp’s music…
“Houses of the Holy” came
on and my brain jumped back. I couldn’t stop it. Suddenly I was back in the
bunker with Cas and I was trying to teach him how to use the Walkman that we
still had so he could listen to the cassettes without having to be in the Impala
(and so he didn’t take a joyride in Baby because he wanted to listen to the
music like he’d done once before). I could hear the music from the headphones
and time the beats to the lyrics in the song. “Ramble On” had been the first I
showed him, but “Houses of the Holy” is when he just got real serious and
tilted his head in that way he does. The first song talked about freedom, and
the second talked about an angel on your shoulder, in your hand a sword of
gold. He’d taken the words to heart from both songs, I guess, but next thing I
know every time he asked to borrow the tape he’d listen to just listen that those
two songs before any of the others. Didn’t matter that one was first and the
other was in the middle of the recording. Cas just listened, and as time got on
I’d find him in the bunker just listening to the whole tape after or the music
playing somewhere else, always those songs first.
Wasn’t long after that I
found myself without the tape more times than I had it, so I gave it to him and
told him to keep it. He knew the words by heart even if he didn’t tell me. I’d
caught him more than once singing them out when Sam was out and we were driving
back from a case. He knew he was caught whenever I’d turn the volume down to
hear him. He’d sing a few words, realized what I did, then get quiet at first.
I’d laugh and then turn the music back up and that would be it. As the years
went on, though, he’d keep singing and I’d just listen to that while the tape
rolled. Sam would still be out and I’d feel like I was about to fall asleep
myself. It felt… I dunno, “peaceful” doesn’t sound like it means everything it’s
supposed to, but I used to love those moments. Made it feel like the world wasn’t
out to get us for even a few minutes… The last time we did that was probably
months ago now after everything that’s happened.
Never occurred to me when
he got his own cars that he’d put the tape in, that he’d even keep it on him to
transfer it over when he’d lost the other car. I didn’t think it’d even phase
me ‘cause I listen to the songs, too, when Cas wasn’t not around, but…
The music kept playing
while I was just sitting there in the truck. “Immigrant Song,” “The Song
Remains the Same,” “You Shook Me,” on and on. I couldn’t move. Flashback after
flashback came with each song after those two until they repeated, and then new
flashbacks would start. Without realizing it I found myself mouthing the words
and then turning the volume down to try to trick Cas into singing again until—
Then I’d realized what
happened. Realized all the crap that happened and how those moments may never
Sam found me like that,
had to get me out. Apparently, I wasn’t even responding to anything he said;
just went full mute like I did when I was a kid. I really had him freaked.
Could you do like a Wally west and reader imagine where he's stuck in the speed force and the reader is pregnant. While she's cleaning out Wallys stuff he comes back??
Hi! Hope this is alright with you! Do enjoy~
doorbell rang, you padded to the door, opening it. The smile on your face
widens just the tiniest bit when you see your best friend. You let him walk
through and he stops momentarily, looking around the place. “Nothing much has
change, huh?” He asks though there was something in his voice that you just
could not quite place. You ignore it in favour of closing the door.
You turn to
look at your friend. “Thank you for coming by, Dick.” You place a hand on his
arm and he looks down at you. “I honestly don’t think I could have done it
alone.” You explain and Dick gives you a small smile before placing his own
hand on top of yours. He grips it lightly before looking around the place.
It has been a
while now since the incident had happened. Suffice to say you haven’t had the
best of times ever since it happened, nightmares were a constant presence too
but one morning, you woke up and had an epiphany: you should not stop living
just because the love of your life did, especially not since he left you with
more than just a broken heart – a new life. You place your hand on your growing
belly – it has been five months now. You had not even known you were pregnant
by then – it made you think how Wally would have reacted if he knew you were,
would he have tried his hardest to come back to you?
alright?” Dick’s voice brought you out of your train of thoughts and you
immediately shove them to the very back of your mind. You nod your head.
Dick gives you an unconvinced look but you simply shrug it off – all of you
were hurting in different ways, some more than others but like you have
resolved, you are going to live for the life Wally has given you. “I have been putting
off cleaning any of Wally’s belongings just because…” You trail off as the two
of you begin walking to the bedroom you had shared with Wally. As a matter of
fact, you have put off from even stepping in to the place you shared with him
until a few days ago. “But I think I am ready now.”
quiet and simply follows you to the bedroom. It certainly looks like no one has
stepped in there since the last time it had been occupied. You maneuvered
around the place, picking up the shirts that were thrown about. “Wally is so
silly sometimes, you know.” You laugh as you stare at the couple shirt he had
bought for the two of you – seeing that shirt brought back all of the fond
memories from that particular night. “I honestly do not even know why I was so
surprised when he gave us this for our first year anniversary.” You turn to
show Dick the shirt.
before letting out a laugh as he takes the shirt from you. “Y/N, you have no
idea just how much thought and effort he put in to this: he was even fretting
about it, thinking about what he would do if you hated it.” Dick shakes his
head, recalling the memory.
You laugh. “Wally
is seriously a worry-wart but it is endearing.” You tell him before going to
the closet. You open the closet and begin sifting through the countless of
shirts and pants Wally had managed to unfold. “Sometimes I wonder why I even
stayed with him – he messes up all of the shirts I folded for him on a daily
basis!” You grumble as you begin to take them out, folding them one by one.
knowing despite your ‘complaints’, the two of you had been helplessly in love
with each other. It was almost sickening to watch the two of you whenever you
were together. Wally always had a love-struck look on his face whenever he
talked about you and whenever you were around, Wally’s eyes would always follow
“Where do you
want me to start, Y/N?” Dick asks.
“Can you help
me dismantle the bed? I think I might just give the entire thing away.” You
tell him, not looking up from folding Wally’s clothes. At that moment, you feel
sad, disappointed, unhappy and all the negative feelings you can possibly feel
but you knew, deep down, that you had to keep living your life. Even if it
means moving out of the place that shared much too many fond memories of Wally
This place of
yours had seen both the good and the bad of your relationship. It was also
where your little baby had been conceived too and honestly, you did not think
you would be able to handle living in the house for fear of having all of these
memories haunting you.
The two of
you had quietly set to work, occasionally starting conversations when you
remembered the silly things Wally did – like that time he went out of his way
to get you your favourite flowers because he had forgotten about your birthday
and promptly fell flat on his face when he didn’t forget about your birthday,
he had forgotten about his own! – and Dick would share stories with you about
when the two of them had been in the Young Justice team.
work is interrupted the moment you heard someone ringing the doorbell. You
glance at Dick who is currently putting all the clothes you have folded in to a
box and he stares at you.
expecting anyone?” He inquires and you shake your head.
“Not that I
know of.” You tell him but before you could even make the move to get up, Dick
stops you. You stare at him.
“I’ll go and
check it out.” Dick gets up and hands the box of half-filled box to you. “Just
in case.” You nod your head, grateful for having Dick around. As much as you
would love to kick some ass, it probably would not be good for your baby and
you. You had minded your own business ever since Dick left to answer the door
but when he called out your name, you frown.
of the room, you had the box with you and promptly stops in your tracks. The
box drops from your hand, causing the shirts to fall out unceremoniously to the
Wally gives you a shaky smile.
hitches and you can feel your chest starting to hurt.
one step towards you and you look away from him to look at Dick. He has a wide
smile on his face and you could see the tears in his eyes. That is when you
know that this man standing right in front of you is none other than your
stops in front of you, his eyes fall on your stomach and that is when the tears
start falling down his face. “Babe,” He resists the urge to wrap his arms
around you – as much as he wanted to, Wally is afraid of how you may react. “Babe!”
Though he might have spoken too soon because not long after that, you had
promptly fainted, falling forward. Luckily he had been close enough to catch
you in his arms.
to the both of you. “I think this has been a long day for all of us.” He steps
away when Wally cradles you carefully in his arms. “I guess seeing you in the
flesh might have been too much for her.” Wally lets out a shaky laugh, pressing
a kiss on your forehead.
something like telling me to go away – but not fainting, definitely not that.”
Wally stands up, still with you in his arms. “Can we crash at your place?”
moon has just entered virgo no wonder ! I started working & organizing things that I’ve been putting off, it’s time to clean everything up and bring order to daily chaos and the mess after “the party” (leo moon). also conjunct north node, its a good day to embrace growth and accept challenges for emotional development. saturn opp mars can make it difficult though, inertia of energy and enthusiasm and consequently, lethargy and concentration problems, but we see outlets through the sextiles of mars ::: moon sextile mars where emotions are expressed genuinely with ease, a feeling of independence and bravery; the needs and desires are aligned & mars sextile venus, relief will come through creative activities, and a warm affectionate attitude. the heart’s desire is pleasure & harmony so be sure to ~love yourself today.
Do you (INTP) also put off cleaning until you literally can't breathe or are stressed out, and then spend hours putting everything in its perfect spot and making sure everything is spotless.... Just to throw something on your floor/bed/chair not 30 minutes later because you're too lazy to put it up? Cause I do ✋
I actually tidy up pretty regularly because I don’t like mess but once I have tidied up there’s usually something in the wrong place within 10 minutes😂