#by tidy up i mean put my dirty clothes into a hamper and my clean clothes onto the floor so i can reclaim my bed

[nudibutch]

i was finally able to have the house to myself for a bit today... brought all my dirty dishes out of my room and was able to tidy up a little bit without feeling weird

[skarabrae-stone]

Adding to this (all great advice), I've found the book How to Keep House While Drowning by KC Davis to be very helpful. It's got a lot of good advice on how to prioritize cleaning tasks, which is something I tend to struggle with-- I look at a mess and get overwhelmed because I don't know where to start, and then I don't end up cleaning anything. Davis breaks down cleaning tasks into areas of priority, which was immensely helpful for me. She also talks about how to work through the shame and stigma attached to messiness, which I think is something many of us with ADHD struggle with.

I also recently read a book on organizing with ADHD which I hesitate to recommend because some of it was pretty unhelpful (the author does not have ADHD and it shows), but one tip that I thought WAS helpful is that your organizational system should prioritize efficiency in putting things away. Essentially, most of the time an ADHD person will have enough motivation to get something out if they need it, but if it's hard to put away (and hard can literally be one extra step), it won't get put away. Same for if the place where something is supposed to go is too far from where it gets used.

Some examples are things like:

If you use your coat every time you go out, it is more efficient to drape it over a chair near the door than to hang it up in a closet, so it will likely end up on the chair. A solution to this could be putting some hooks or a coat tree next to the door, or just designating a "coat chair" so the mess is contained to one spot.

If you stack bowls on top of plates in the cupboard, that means you have to lift up the bowls every time you want to put away a plate, and the plates probably will just not get put away. A solution would be storing the plates on their sides next to the bowls, so it's easy to put away both.

If the tea is kept across the room from the kettle, you will probably end up just leaving the tea next to the kettle, because that's where you actually use it. A solution would be moving either the kettle or the tea so it's all in one place.

If your partner is willing to work with you on re-organizing some things, it might help for both of you to think through how, where, and by whom stuff gets used, and what the barriers are to keeping that stuff organized/put away.

For example, say your partner leaves his clothes on the floor all the time. After thinking it through, he might realize that:

the hamper has a lid, and it's too much effort to open it to put the clothes in

the hamper is not near where he gets undressed

Some of his clothes have been worn but aren't dirty, or are dirty but are going to be worn again (say, for an ongoing project), and he doesn't have a place for clothes that aren't ready to be laundered but shouldn't be mixed in with the clean clothes

Sweaters, flannel shirts, and the like are hard to put away, and he's going to wear them again the next day anyway

These are all problems that used to cause me to leave my clothes on the floor. My solutions were:

use an open laundry basket for a clothes hamper

put another basket/hamper or hooks in the "undressing" area

designate a separate spot for worn clothes (I've used both a set of hooks over the back of my door and an empty shelf in my closet for this, but you could also use a milk crate or something.)

use open-front storage (such as a shelf or basket) for items that are worn frequently without being washed. I keep all my sweaters in open-fronted bins on my closet shelves for this reason.

It can be exhausting to identify these types of barriers and solutions, so don't try to do too much at one time. Just remember that your partner is going to need to take the lead on figuring out what his barriers are, and what might make cleaning/tidying easier for him-- if you try to come up with solutions for him, it's very likely that he won't end up using them.

You posted about adhd and I was hoping to follow up to clarify something. I’ve explained to my partner a million times about how the borderline-hoarding mess of his space is very mentally draining to me, and he understands but we’ve both essentially accepted he won’t clean his mess because he can’t because of his adhd. You’re saying he’s actually being a shit head?

This isn't necessarily an issue of him being a shithead, but it also isn't a sustainable situation. It's not good for you and there's a level of clutter that's probably not good for him either.

Large bastard is a lot more clutter-y than I am. The solution we've come to is trying to keep our messes at least isolated from one another; he can have his messes and I can have mine, but he can have those messes in his spaces, not all over the place. Sometimes those messes migrate, and that's when it's important for him to make the effort to rein them in rather than trying and failing to make a daily effort to keep our entire shared space tidy.

I think when you say "we've both essentially accepted he won't clean his mess" what I'm hearing is resignation; you're not happy about this but you don't know what to do so you've thrown up your hands and he feels helpless and unsure of what to do to improve the situation. This is the kind of "it's fine" that isn't really fine.

I think it would be worthwhile for you to each separately think about the mess and talk about it together. Are there areas that YOU *need* to have not-messy? Both for utility and your mental health? Are there areas where you can tolerate more mess than otherwise? Are there areas that are going to be harder for him to keep the mess out of than others? Are there things he doesn't *know* about cleaning up the mess?

I'm obviously a big "communication communication communication" person so I'm going to recommend a lot of talking about stuff, which is probably going to mean a lot of thinking about and interrogating stuff. I'm going to say "talk to him about why the mess bothers you" which means you also have to really articulate to yourself why the mess bothers you (for instance I'm not actually *bothered* by a messy kitchen, but I know it's going to reflect badly on us - and me specifically b/c of presumed gender roles - if someone pops by and the kitchen is a disaster, AND a messy kitchen is going to be harder to use). Genuinely, sometimes knowing *why* something is a problem might make it easier for someone with ADHD to do something. And it's not that he doesn't care that it upsets you, it's just that "Oh if I don't wash my breakfast dishes Anon won't have clear counterspace to make lunch" might be stickier in his brain (and less hard to look at emotionally) than "this thing I forget to do upsets my partner so I should do it."

For the record, I think that people with ADHD should read up on Demand Avoidance and see if it might explain some of the issues that they have in their day-to-day life; I've seen some really unfortunate situations with friends where trying to do things that their partner needed became the subject of demand avoidance. *I* have experienced negative outcomes of demand avoidance. The solution to that, however, isn't to stop making attempts to do the thing OR to simply try harder to do as they're asked/told (which reinforces the demand), it's to work on setting up a situation where the partners' needs are not interpreted as a demand. This is fuck-off difficult and requires a lot of patience and care and many attempts to succeed and will be different for each person and relationship.

(Also for the record demand avoidance isn't *super* strongly linked to ADHD and it's not a definitive symptom; like Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria, it is something that occurs in some number of people with ADHD and can be a useful lens through which to examine various behaviors; you don't need to have DA or RSD to have ADHD, and having DA or RSD also doesn't invalidate your diagnosis; they're symptoms. For me, DA often feels like "if I don't look at it, it can't get me" - If I ignore all the messages I've got they aren't real and don't have real consequences so I'll just ignore my texts. If I don't look at the vendor email about the order, the problem with the order isn't real and it won't get added to my task list. If I don't look at the requests in my inbox I can't let people down when I don't do them. It's a self-protective coping mechanism but it's *maladaptive* and I can't just ignore the vendor email or all my texts. I need to work on a way of doing the stuff that I'm avoiding in a way that makes it less stressful and doesn't hurt the people relying on me. That takes a lot of effort, personal insight, trial and error, and )

But before I dive into specifics I want to be really really clear about one thing: sometimes people are simply incompatible. Sometimes one person has such a low tolerance for "mess" and the other person has such a high threshold for "mess" that it can't be reconciled. It sucks that this can end up being a thing that people break up over, but it is MUCH better to acknowledge incompatibility as early as possible instead of spending years and years building resentment.

There used to be a great forum called MiL's Anonymous that I spent a lot of time on. It had a lot of people in a lot of difficult situations struggling to get by and hold their relationships together. The question that was used as a litmus test to approach each situation was simple: If you knew today that everything about living with this person would be the same in five years, would you stay?

Because you can't control your partner. You can't control the future. You can only control yourself and your proximity to situations that are harmful to you. If you knew, 100%, that things wouldn't get better in five years, would you be okay with staying in this relationship? If the answer is "no," then that's that. Don't worry about questions of whether or not your boyfriend is a shithead, start the process of ending the relationship because there's a good chance the situation is going to be exactly the same in five years.

If the answer is "yes," and you'd stay in the relationship regardless of whether or not things changed, then it's time to take actions to improve your life within the context of the relationship.

(No judgement on that yes or no, btw. If you would hate living like this for another five years, and you would feel like you'd wasted your time and hadn't done the things you wanted to with your life, get out. Bail. Go. It will be better for you and better for your partner if you split instead of spending half a decade building resentments and and problems that you'll have to spend another half a decade healing from.)

Also, a note: you describe your boyfriend's mess as borderline hoarding - is the issue *mess* or is the issue *clutter*? I have friends who are very tidy, but whose homes are very cluttered. They like things, they have many things, they keep many things around, but their houses are always clean and well-dusted and orderly, just with a tremendous amount of *stuff.* I am addressing all of this as though the issue is mess, not clutter. If your boyfriend's situation is clutter (the space is busy and packed with things but it is functional and clean) and your issue isn't with *mess* (things out of place, things not having a place, things that need to be cleaned up gathering in stacks, falling behind on regular chores like laundry and dishes and taking out the trash) then you definitely need to assess whether or not you are compatible.

For instance here's a room that is messy but not cluttered compared to a room that is cluttered but not messy:

That first room is a *mess* but it would be very easy to clean up in under an hour. The second room is fairly tidy, but would take significant effort to pare down and declutter. BOTH of these can be difficult to live with but the second one is not dangerous or threatening to anyone's health. (The second one is QUITE cluttered and if every room in a house looks like this it can be overwhelming to live with; this is actually harder to deal with in a relationship than the first one in a lot of ways. I don't have a lot of advice for what to do if your partner is a high degree of tidy-but-cluttered because I don't actually think it's a problem or wrong to have thousands of books or bins full of lego or a million kitchen appliances as long as you have the space and can keep it safe and well-maintained; this is a really significant compatibility issue)

Okay, all that out of the way, here's the hard work.

Talk about this shit

Talk to your partner and define "mess." Make sure you are on the same page about what you mean when you're talking about what a messy room looks like versus what a tidy room looks like. Gather reference pictures. DRAW reference pictures.

Explain not just that the mess upsets you, but *why* and *how* it upsets you. In this context don't think of it as your boyfriend's mess, think of it as an unpleasant roommate. Discuss this using "I-statements". "When I have to pick up laundry all over the apartment, I feel like a parent more than a partner." "When there are piles of miniatures all over the table, I feel like I don't have anywhere to do things I'm interested in." "When there are dishes in the sink, I feel frustrated because I have to clean before I can feed myself."

Discuss, frankly and openly, whether he knows how to clean. I'm not trying to make excuses for him here but a lot of people with ADHD have a lot of stress and avoidance around cleaning because they spent a lot of time getting yelled at for not knowing how to clean properly.

Discuss your needs, be firm about what you require but willing to compromise. You *need* some spaces to be clean, and some spaces may be harder for him to keep clean than others. It may be MUCH harder for him to keep a bedroom tidy than it is to keep a kitchen tidy; if you need a clean and empty bedroom with everything put away and he simply cannot do that, that is a compatibility issue. But perhaps you need *your* side of the bedroom to be very orderly and can tolerate a moderate level of mess and clutter on his side. Maybe you're really really bothered by a messy kitchen, but it doesn't bug you if the dining table is covered with projects and papers. Figure out something more workable than "his mess goes everywhere and i live with it because he's incapable of cleaning" because he probably is not incapable of cleaning and you deserve to have places in your home that are comfortable for you.

Reduce friction for cleaning

Sometimes the problem isn't cleaning, the problem is the many many steps before cleaning, or not knowing where something should go when you are done cleaning. One of the absolute best things I've done for myself for cleaning my space is getting a broom holder and mounting the broom to the wall. Sweeping is now essentially thoughtless. I don't have to find the broom or pull it out from a pile of fans or go scrounging around for a dustpan it's right there on the wall, frictionless. So here are some ways to reduce the barriers to cleaning:

Make sure you and your partner both know how to use your cleaning supplies and know where those supplies are. When I switched dishwasher soap I had to re-show Large Bastard where I was storing it and how it was used, because to him what happened was the dishwasher tabs just vanished one day and he didn't know what I was putting in the machine or the process I used. He sometimes puts tools away in places that I can't see (he's more than a foot taller than me) so sometimes I can't get started on a maintenance project until he shows me where he put the battery pack for the drill.

Consider making a how-to chart to or having him make a how-to chart to keep someplace accessible so he can reference it while cleaning. Goblin.Tools Magic ToDo is great for this. Basically a lot of the time people with ADHD have trouble knowing what to do from step to step even if they've done something before, so having a step by step guide can make it easier (I have notebooks full of step-by-step guides for everything from paying for my tuition to removing licenses for my customers to weeding my yard)

Remove obstacles; don't keep cleaning chemicals in the garage in a box that's behind a stack of parts, keep them in the room you'll be cleaning. Don't keep the cleaning supplies that you use to clean the bathroom in the kitchen. Sometimes this means buying two bottles of bleach solution and two scrubbers and two sets of cleaning gloves but having fewer steps (fetch the windex, fetch the paper towels, fetch the gloves) is often the key to getting things done (open under-sink cabinet and grab windex, gloves, and paper towels that are there instead of in the kitchen).

This sort of overlaps with the next category, which is:

Create Dump Zones

One thing that I've found that seems very different between people with ADHD cleaning and neurotypical people cleaning is that neurotypical people are good at getting to a point where the cleaning is "done." They have checked off their tasks and they have finished and it is over. There are *SOME* chores that are like this (taking out the trash is a binary state, the trash has been taken out or it has not) and some chores are perpetual (horrid cursed dishes) but I think with people with ADHD, some chores that are binary for neurotypicals are actually perpetual chores. For instance "clean off the counter" is not a one and done for me. "Clean off the counter" may involve a three day reorganization project. "Clean off the counter" does not mean "wipe down the tile and put dishes away" it means assessing whether or not I need to make vegetable stock and bleaching three tea containers and reconsidering whether or not the sharps container should live somewhere else and going through the mail and figuring out what needs to be responded to and taking out the recycling and on and on and on.

We have had company at the house for the last two weeks, so I asked large bastard to clean off the dining room table, which is largely a project zone for him. Cleaning off the dining room table meant putting away his meds (and since he's a transplant patient that involves a 30 gallon rubbermade tote), throwing away some trash, and totally reorganizing his workshop. It also incidentally involved picking up a table from facebook marketplace and moving my plants, which has now involved moving my former plant rack outside (moving buckets, finding and organizing planters and gardening tools) and taking the former table to the thrift store (not done yet) and cleaning the rug that was under the former table. So "either the table is clean, or it isn't" isn't really true for us.

HOWEVER "hang on we can't eat until the table is clear so let's drive to Pico Rivera to get that console table right now" isn't a workable plan, so you create dumpzones as areas of holding between the start and the finish of the chore.

A dump zone can be a laundry basket. It can be a craft bin. It can be a back room or under your bed. It is a place to put things that you are going to deal with later because if you deal with them now it is going to derail the thing you are actually trying to do, which is set the table for dinner.

Dump zones are vital to cleaning with ADHD and I recommend them for day-to-day cleaning as well. The day-to-day dump zones might be more for you than for your boyfriend. For instance, Large Bastard works with bullets and he sheds bullets all over the house. I used to get stressed when I found bullets when I was cleaning because are these work bullets? Are these recreational bullets? Are they in testing? Do they need to be pulled? Do they go in the workshop or the office or the garage or does he need these today so they have to stay on the counter? And the answer now is "that's not my problem naughty bullets go in the jar." Which is perfectly sensible because he gets to say "mystery yarn goes in the bin" and "art supplies go in the bucket."

I feel helpless when cleaning a lot of the time. I'm frustrated and lost and I don't know where stuff goes and everything I pick up spins off into three projects in my head and every step feels like a wall to scale. Dump zones help me with that when there's pressure or a reason for cleaning beyond day to day home maintenance. People are coming over? The bedroom is a dump zone, I'll deal with that later. I'm just cleaning up because I need to? Okay I can find a permanent home for this new dish soap.

AS A VERY IMPORTANT COROLLARY TO THIS:

Active projects do not go in dump zones while you or your partner are cleaning. This may mean designating a project sanctuary area like a corner of the table or one particular chair in your main room where a project can be placed so as not to be disturbed. (if my current crochet project ends up in the yarn bin, that may mean that I don't pick the project up for another three months, it lives on the windowsill behind the couch because that's where it'll get worked on)

Do not put things away for your partner, put them in the dump zone for your partner. Your partner has to be the one to put their own stuff away in a way that works for them. I tend to find that this naturally puts a limit on the time stuff sits in the dump zone, because eventually you'll go "hey where's my thing?" and will put stuff away. If that doesn't happen, it's still generally better to have stuff in a dump zone than all over the home.

Do not decide you know what things go together from your partner's stuff and try to "put like things together." The neurotypical urge to put like things together is the mindkiller(j/k). You do not know which things are "similar" in your partner's organization schema and attempting to organize things on your own is going to end up with all of the things "organized" being functionally lost forever from your partner's perspective. Large Bastard's mom would do this and it was infuriating, she'd say "oh I put all the electronics stuff in one box" and she would mean soldering irons, transistors, ham radios, HDMI cables, and cellphone chargers. We are *still* going through boxes of stuff that she "tidied up" when he was hospitalized in 2020 and 2021.

To prevent the need for quite so many dump zones over time, you can work on setting up landing zones and "homes" for projects and tools.

Landing Zones

Landing zones are places where things go when you come inside from doing various things. Sometimes your landing zone only needs to be a tray for your wallet and keys, sometimes your landing zone needs to be a place to take off muddy boots and put a trowel and gloves down before you shower.

To make an effective landing zone, consider what behaviors you're trying to minimize and whether the people using it are ACTUALLY going to use it. For instance I was tired of the corner of my hearth getting cluttered with random junk so I hung up some hooks and put a shelf and a basket there and it became a really effective landing zone for my bag and keys and the mail, but it was VERY ineffective for Large Bastard because it's by a door that isn't the primary door he uses to enter the house. As a result I always know where my keys and bag are but he has trouble finding his keys and wallet. He tends to enter the house through our bedroom and has an overloaded valet next to the door and that's usually where his wallet ends up. Mounting a shelf to the wall above the valet and putting a basket and a hook on it will be a better place for his stuff to land. It's not that he's not using the first zone because he doesn't know that it's there, or because he doesn't care about lost time when I'm searching for my car keys after he borrows them, he's not using it because it's not by the door he uses. That's all.

I have a landing space for when I come in for gardening that's different than the one when I come in from grocery shopping. I have a landing space for when I walk into the dining room instead of the kitchen when I get home.

Landing spaces prevent stuff from piling up all over the place because they are a limited functional space that should be used frequently. Mail ONLY goes in the landing zone. If you have mystery mail or if you're not sure it's safe to toss, you put it in the landing zone. You can't let the mail get piled up too high or you won't have a space for your keys. You can't let the change in your wallet tray get too deep or your wallet is going to slide off, etc., but you also don't just put change on the coffee table or your nightstand because the landing zone is right there.

Homes for items are just what they sound like. They're the place the item goes. It lives there. My meds live on my nightstand. You would not believe how poorly I did with taking my meds on my vacation because they weren't on my nightstand. A while back large bastard lost one of his sets of sorted meds and we tore the house up looking for them because he couldn't find them in his nightstand, which is where they live. *I* found them in his nightstand because I emptied out the entire top drawer (he had only looked on the top layer) and found them underneath a radio and a hammock. Even though they were *hidden* they were in their home, so they were findable. I recently needed ink for an art class. Art supplies live in a dresser by my desk. Ink lives in the art bin or the top left drawer. The ink was not in either of these places (it was on a cabinet in the dining room behind a teacup) so it took me weeks to find it.

Sometimes the reason that ADHD spaces are so messy is because objects have been assigned homes in places that are visible and if they get moved they get lost. This is a genuinely difficult problem that requires a lot of effort to solve and can involve a lot of trial and error for creating a tidy living space. For some people, open shelving and visible storage might be a good solution. For some people, assigning a VERY clear home and inculcating that location by habit is the only way to clean up a space. For some people one very cluttered corner to at least isolate the chaos does the trick (for me and large bastard open shelving doesn't work because anything in one place for too long becomes invisible; that means that I rely on assigning things homes and large bastard relies on having contained chaos and a general idea of where to search but what that DOES NOT mean is that he is clean or tidy. His spaces look like an explosion. But he can mostly find his stuff and do what he needs to do and as long as that's limited to specific places in shared spaces I can live with it; the dining room table can be a disaster, the kitchen cannot).

People organize things differently. It often takes a while for neurotypical adults to settle into an organizational style that works for them and ADHD adults may need to settle into a new system every few months for it to continue working. The cleanup and declutter is most likely going to be a permanent project that is always going to demand some level of attention from everyone in a shared space, but "my ADHD means I can't do it" is not really going to fly. Maybe his ADHD means that he can't keep his space tidy, but it doesn't mean you can't move stuff from shared spaces into dump zones or that he can't do stuff around the house.

If he's insisting that his ADHD means that he can't clean it is possible that he's not being a shithead, he just feels helpless and doesn't know where to start and has adopted the belief that he's a useless piece of shit who can't even keep a tidy space like a grownup because he's internalized a lot of shitty attitudes (hello, my internal monologue about keeping a clean house). But it's also possible that he's just being a shithead.

It's something that's worthwhile to investigate with him. If he's unwilling to make an attempt, then he's being a shithead.

It is also not your responsibility to rehabilitate another person. If he wants to clean and it's something he feels bad about and needs some help and support with the way that someone might need help or support for learning to use a mobility aid, that is fine but you don't have to be the one who gives him that support if it's detrimental to your health, and you don't have to be the one to teach him that stuff if it's not something you're capable of. And if he is NOT interested in working on making your shared living space more accessible for you, that is not your suitcase to unpack and you just have to ask yourself the question from the start: would I stay with this person if I knew the situation was never going to change?

IDK, I'm sure a lot of this reads like "anon you must take on the emotional labor of training your partner to be an adult" but it's really meant to be more of a way of assessing yourself and your relationship. If you created landing zones do you think he'd use them? Would he get angry if you assigned a laundry basket as a dump zone for his stuff while you tidy the living room? Is living with him long-term going to be comfortable for you if nothing changes? Do you have enough of a shared definition of "mess" that you're at least in the ballpark for what counts as a clean house?

anyway good luck, and a reminder to folks that I'm compiling a bunch of adhd resources and other information on my personal website, ms-demeanor.com. It's coming along slowly but it will eventually include stuff like ADHD cleaning tips and how to tackle a hoard, so maybe keep your eye on that space.

[storiesofsvu]

I saw that Headcannon on Sonny speaking at Fordham and immediately thought of Barba doing the same thing with a student catching his eye... but my head also thought of Barba having a girlfriend who color coordinates his suits, socks and everything in his closet.

okay. so i see your headcanon, and I raise you this and hope this is alright lol!!

So.

Rafael *himself* is meticulously organized. his apartment looks like a show home 90% of the time. occasionally you'll find a coffee mug in the sink, or various ones scattered around the apartment, but aside from that, it's clean and tidy af.

no matter the size of his apartment, he gets it slightly remodeled so he can have some kind of walk in closet, even if it's a smaller one. His suits are all organized on level of how expensive/fancy they are. ties, pocket squares, and all of his socks are all organized perfectly and colour coded. everything gets put away directly after laundry day/dry cleaning comes in, and he knows exactly where everything is supposed to be.

He knows that you're not as organized or clean as he is, but you're not messy. your apartment is tidy, dirty dishes in the dishwasher, and clothes in the laundry hamper, not on the floor. despite having spent the night multiple times, it's usually the evening before a lazy day, meaning you'll stay in pjs or sweats, and he somehow has never seen your closet.

date night rolls around, he's made you a delicious homecooked meal at your apartment. you're pouring wine for the two of you when he wraps his arms around you, rubbing at your arms, mentioning that you've got goosebumps and asks if you're cold.

"It's a little chilly in here. You mind grabbing my red cardigan from my closet?"

"course." he pecks your cheek before sauntering down the hall as you plate up the food and get settled on the couch. there's less than five minutes before your fave tv show night starts.

back in the bedroom Rafael pulls open the french doors to your closet and has to hold back an audible gasp.

it's not colour coordinated, it's barely organized.

there's things half tossed on hangers, shirts mixed with pants, workout gear mixed in between cocktail dresses. a row of shoes up top, and strewn along the bottom. the only thing that IS organized is the dirty clothes hamper (he then notices that you have one of the sets where one is for whites and one is for colours and...yeah...there's a pink sock in the whites bin that's definitely going to fuck you over later)

he tries to ignore it, eyes searching for the red cardigan you asked for.

only thing is....he can't seem to figure out which you were talking about.

there's a maroon cardigan, a bright red thick cardigan, a burgandy hoodie, a fleece carmine cardigan, and on top of that he notices the men's crimson Harvard hoodie buried amongst a pile of tights that he'd been missing for a few months now.

so he starts by pulling out those five, tossing them onto the bed.

that of course causes about six other things topple out of the closet, a stiletto nearly hitting him in the head.

back in the living room, you've burrowed under a blanket, and thus forgotten about the need for a sweater, digging into dinner, distracted by the tv.

by the third commercial break your brow furrows and you glance down the hall at the sound of a clunk. so you go to investigate.

"babe you've missed half the show already, what're you doing?" you ask as you enter the bedroom.

"uh...babe?"

Rafael's got stacks of clothing separated on your bed, and his head stuck in your closet as he pulls out a few other things.

"red sweater?!" he asks rather wildly, gesturing toward the original pile.

"oh...yeah..." you eye the pile for a second, deciding to scoop up the harvard hoodie, "thanks. c;mon, dinner's getting cold."

"I can reheat it."

"wait...are you reorganizing my closet?"

"HOW DO YOU EVER FIND THINGS?!"

you laugh, explaining that you don't really have a system, but there's never really a need for it, you just grab and go.

he heavily rolls his eyes and insists on redoing it.

the wine glasses end up in the bedroom as you sit on the bed, watching him pull every single thing in the closet out, starting a donation pile as he forces you to Marie Kondo the entire thing.

this of course, also sparks a mini fashion show as he pulls out clothing you haven't seen in YEARS and must see if it still fits.

it takes nearly all night, but by the end he's got your things organized into formal wear, business casual, casual, and cozy/workout. he did his best to hold back from colour coding within those categories, but they're still relatively lightest to darkest.

he presses a firm kiss to the top of your head, "for the love of all things holy, please....try to keep it like this?"

"i'm not gonna tell you how in shambles my dresser is...."

[sprinklesofktrash]

Brother Best friend | Juyeon The Boyz

Summary: Friends or not, one of them is willing to risk it all.

Warnings: Sex! Explicit! Dirty talks!

“Y/n, have you finished the homework that we had to do?” Your friend Byeol asks. You stop playing on your phone and made eye contact with her. You shook your head no.

Byeol rolls her eyes, “you know, you should stop playing Among Us and actually do the homework.” You groan, you lost the game. You place down your phone and just stare at the blank screen.

“It won’t due until after the break, I have time” You says. Before Byeol could say anything else, a brown bag was hanging in front of your face. You look at the hand and made your up to see it was your brother and his best friend Juyeon.

“You left without your food, mom asked me to give this to you” He place it on the table.

“Thanks, Young Hoon” You smile, opening the bag to see if your mom packed what you had asked for last night Gilgeori toast. Your brother nods and walk away. You made eye contact with Juyeon who give you a nod but you completely ignore.

“I’d do anything for Juyeon” Byeol mesmerized by his looks. You watch the both of them walk away while other school girls fan girl over them.

“Please not you too” You rolled your eyes.

“Y/n you have a hot brother and plus his best friend is like hot too, I don’t understand why Juyeon don’t turn you on” Byeol finish doing her school work. Maybe because I don’t like him.

“Mom, I’m home!” You took off your shoes and made your way to raid the fridge like always. While getting all the snacks together, you were confused at the quiet home. There’s a small green sticky note on the fridge you read:

‘Your dad and I will be in Daegu to visit your grandma, we’ll be back next week. Enjoy your winter break, we left the credit card in the drawer, use it wisely. Young Hoon, make sure your sister eat well. Y/N, be nice to your brother! Mom and dad love you!’

You didn’t realize your mouth was open. The front door opens to see your brother and Yujeon walking in. They were laughing at something. Your brother walk up to you, closing your mouth and took the sticky note from your hand.

“Ha, I guess I’m babysitting. Juyeon, wanna sleepover?” Your brother asks his best friend.

“Yeah sure” Juyeon spoke.

“I know damn well you’re not talking about babysitting me” you chuckle, eating the grapes. Yujeon grabs one and plop it in his mouth, you have him a death glare it didn’t scare him but he did give you a wink.

“Yeah that’s what I’m saying” Your brother laughs.

“I’m 20!” You groan. Your brother mock you and went to his room.

“See you around y/n” Juyeon messes up your hair. You slap his hand away and fix your hair back.

*Two days later*

Your brother had left to get some food for dinner, you finally got the house to yourself. Juyeon mention to go back to his house to grab clean clothes. You decide to clean your room and clean the kitchen since all of you left it a mess from last night. You might say, your brother and you aren’t the tidy type.

After hours of deep cleaning you decide to go shower. You grab your waterproof speak and hung it in the shower. You didn’t bother locking up the door, since no one was home. You turn on the water, making sure it was warm enough to go in. You strip out of the dirty clothes and place it into the dirty hamper. Once the temperate was warm, you jump right in.

“Touch me, tease me, fill me up” you sang the words to Love Talk by WayV. Finishing up, you wipe down all the water from your body. You apply some lotion and do your beauty routine.

Meanwhile, Juyeon came into the house. Placing his clean clothes down and needing to use the bathroom.

“Maybe he’s in the bathroom” Juyeon might’ve thought. Either way, he needs to pee really badly so he rush to the bathroom.

“Yo Young Hoon, I need to use-“ Without a second thought, Juyeon opens the bathroom door, hitting y/n while opening it. Yujeon, looks on the bathroom floor where you fell down, naked. The both of them gasp, you quickly grabs your towel and cover yourself. Yujeon quickly closes the door from the embarrassment.

“YUJEON! NEXT TIME KNOCK!” You screamed. Juyeon quickly apologized.

“I’m sorry I thought you were Young Hoon!” Juyeon quickly said. He had his eyes close while you tried covering yourself up.

“GET OUT!” You yell at him. Juyeon apologized again and ran towards Young Hoon’s room and closes the door after him. Juyeon’s heart was beating so fast, he might passed out.

You tighten the towel around your chest and splash your face with cold water. You don’t know if it was the humidity in the bathroom that’s making you feel hot or the embarrassment of you brother’s best friend seeing your kitty and bitty for the first time.

Slowly opening the bathroom door, you check both sides to see if Juyeon was gone. Once you notice the coast was clear you ran to your room and lock the door.

You check the time it was only 1 am, you’ve been having a hard time sleeping. You made your way downstairs to the kitchen. You open the fridge to take out milk. While you were here you might as well eat the cookies that was in the pantry. You sat down on the counter and eat quietly.

“You can’t sleep either?” Juyeon whisper as he walk towards the fridge. You rolled your eyes at him, you were still mad about earlier.

“I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean to” he sincerely said. You look closely at him, he was a few feet away but you never look at him this closely.

“It’s fine, I’ll forgive you but Young Hoon can never know” You sternly told him. He zips his lips and toss away the imaginary key.

“You have my words” he says. You watch him grab the milk carton and pour some milk into a glass.

“You drink milk when you can sleep?” You asks him. You watch his well defined arms put back the milk carton and walk how his back is well toned.

“Yeah but I prefer mine warm” He place it into the microwave.

You gag, “I’m sorry that’s just nasty.” You cover your mouth. Juyeon got offended.

“Sorry but warm milk tastes a tad bit better” He defend. It made you laugh a bit.

“Milk is meant to be drink cold” You finish your cold milk and jump off the counter and place your glass in the sink.

“I assume you’ll wash your glass,” You tried to walk past Juyeon but his tall height is blocking you. You didn’t realize he was THIS tall. You only see him from afar or whenever your sitting down. Yujeon move aside to let you pass.

“Wash mine too” you turn your head to let him know and continue to walk to your room. Juyeon laughs.

When you got to your room, you turn on your tv and catch up on your Anime. Currently you’re watching Demon Slayer, it was your first time and you absolutely in love with it.

Walking back to Young Hoon’s room, before Juyeon could go in he heard laughter coming from your room. Part of him want to stay in the dark in Young Hoon’s room and part of him want to enjoy your company. He finds his way to your room. He knocks on the door and opens it slowly.

“Can I join?” Juyeon asks, you thought about it but you let him in either way. He closes the door and made his way to sit on your bed.

The both of you watch the anime together, laughing at the parts that were funny. It’s a good thing that Young Hoon is a deep sleeper or else he would’ve yell at the both of you.

Your back starting to hurt so you decide to lay down. To Juyeon suprise, He watches you lay your head down on his lap. “Your thighs look comfy, if you feel uncomfortable just let me know” you told Juyeon. You felt his tension the moment you lay your head on him.

“It’s okay” Juyeon gulped. Juyeon couldn’t pay attention to the show he kept glancing at your body, he didn’t realized that you have an amazing body. Underneath the school uniform, lie a perfect body.

Juyeon eyes laid on your toned legs and made its way up to your shorts. Juyeon started getting sweaty and feels weird of thinking this way. ‘She is your best friend’s little sister! How dare you!’ Juyeon yells in his head. He felt his member getting hard and he felt more embarrassed since your head was on him.

“Uh-“ Juyeon softly move your head and got up. He didn’t face you because he was embarrassed.

“Are you okay?” You asked him. Juyeon didn’t answer. You got up and stand behind his tall frame. You touch his tone back, “hey” you call him softly.

“Yeah, I’m just- I’m just hot right now” Yujeon gulped, still facing the wall.

You smirk, “Juyeon, you’ve seen me naked before...” you rub his back, waiting for him to turn around.

“I’m sure you want to see me naked again” You made him turn around. You look down to see his growing bulge. You smirk and close the gap between the two of you.

“Am I right?” You whisper in his ear. Juyeon nodded.

“What are you going to do about it?” You look up at Juyeon, waiting for him to make his move. Juyeon grabs your waist and wrap his hand around your neck and lay you down on your bed. He’s on top straddling you.

“I’m going to fuck that little pussy of yours” He whispers in your ear. You smirk and slams your lips into his. You can’t believe you’re about to fuck your brother’s best friend.

While your lips dances with his, you use your hands to help strip him out of his clothes as he did the same with you. He kisses your neck and your chest, sucking on your nipples. When he was about to go down on you, you stop him.

“Fuck that, I wanna feel your dick inside of me” You whispered. Juyeon smirk, he grabs the tv remote and turn up the volume. He locks the bedroom door and went back to you. He jerks his dick while getting on position. You play with your pussy while watching him jerk his dick.

“Hmm, I’ve never thought you’d be the freaky type” Juyeon said.

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me” You bite your lips. Juyeon smirk and flip you over. Took you by surprise, he spreads your legs apart, getting into doggy position.

“My fav” you smirk. Juyeon spit on your pussy, rubbing it all over your pussy. You moan, Juyeon grabs you by the neck and pull you against him. He made you look at him, “if we do this, you can’t be loud” He says.

“I won’t” You assure him. With that, he insert his length into you. You fall down on your bed, covering your mouth with a pillow as he thrust every inch into you.

“You know how to get low princess” He slaps your ass, causing you to moan. Luckily, when he slaps your ass the sound from the show was loud enough to cover it.

“Fuck, your dick is so fucking big, filling me in so good” You told him, gripping the bedsheet tightly from all the pleasure he’s giving you.

Juyeon leans down to your ear, making him go in deeper. He closes your mouth because he knows you’re going to moan loudly.

“You fucking like this dick huh?” Juyeon whisper, you close your eyes and nod. You kiss Juyeon so you won’t moan any louder. While you got Juyeon into the kiss, you flip the both of you over. You got on top of him, slip his dick right back in and begin to ride him.

“Holy fuck!” Juyeon moan, closing his eyes as he felt every inside of you. He grabs your hip and begin to aggressively push you lower and make you move back and forth.

“Fucckk!” You tilt your head back in euphoria. You use his thigh to prevent you from falling backwards as you ride him deeper and slower. Juyeon moans which made you turn own. You lean down to his ear and whisper “shush, if my brother caught us. We’re fucked” You smirk. Juyeon didn’t pay attention, he’s enjoying the moment. You begin to twerk on his dick, teasing him every now and then.

“Fuck, I’m going to cum” Juyeon grabs your hip one more time and did the same thing as he did before.

“Cum inside this pussy” you moan as he move your hip faster and faster until he hit the g-spot which made you lose it. The both of you came together, you lay your sweaty body against his sweaty body.

The both of you lay there, exhausted. All you could hear the anime playing and the sound of the both of you breathing. You grab your shirt that was laying on the edge of the bed and wipe the cum on Juyeon’s dick.

“I’ll do it” he insist, you just hush him with your finger and clean yourself. You lay down right next to him, slowly getting tired.

“I missed Demon Slayer because of you” You told him. Juyeon laughs as he grab the blanket and cover your naked body so you won’t get cold.

“You can always go back” Juyeon remove the few hair strains back. He turns off the tv and lay right next to you. The both of you soon slowly drift away in a deep sleep.

Few days had past, winter break was over. You are now back in reality in school. You haven’t told Byeol because she has a loud mouth, you tell her something she goes and tell somebody else. You can’t trust her with this information yet.

You left the study session to use the bathroom. Quietly exiting out, you made your way down the hall when someone grabs your hand and before you could make any noises you were pulled into a dark closet.

“I’ve missed you” The voice sound so familiar and the smell. It was Juyeon. You slaps his arm. He turns on the closet room light. You look up at him who was smiling.

“You’re pussy whipped aren’t you” you smirk. Juyeon rolls his eyes, “maybe” he grabs your chin to give you a kiss.

The next day the both of you had sex, Young Hoon luckily didn’t notice anything strange. Juyeon sneak back into your brother’s room before he woke up. You fell asleep after he left. After that night, you kept your distance with him, few glances here and there. He had to go back to his house two days before the break ended. That kind of broke off the tension between the two of you.

“My brother cannot know about us” You told him. Juyeon smile soon fade.

“Why?” He asks. You gave him a weird look.

“You’re his best friend and I’m his sister. He would beat your ass to find out we fucked” You explains.

“What if I want to make this work?” You grabs your hand and entwined your fingers with his. You look at him who look so sincere by what he says. Then your brother came into your mind. You remove your hand from his, “no.” You open the closet door and walk back to your class. There was a feeling inside of you that made you feel bad for leaving Juyeon in the closet like that.

“Where are you going?” your brother stops you. You look at him and Juyeon who was playing COD before your brother interrupt the game by pausing it.

“Out?” You told your brother.

“Wearing that?” Your brother looks down. You were wearing a lose plaid skirt with a crop top sweater, knee high socks and your boots.

“I look good don’t I?” You smirk, flattening your outfit.

“Hmm...you got your pepper spray?” Your brother asks. You grab the pepperspray from your bag and showed it to him. He give you a thumbs up and you went to go to the karaoke with Byeol and some friends.

“Dude, you let her go out like that?” Juyeon slaps his best friend’s head.

“She said she looks good, you got always hype the girl” Young Hoon shrug and unpaused the game. Juyeon had many different scenerios playing in his head he wasn’t too focused on the game. 

“Where’s my brother?!” You drunkily asks Juyeon as he help you take off your shoes. You came back from the karaoke drunk.

“He left to work” Juyeon answers. He picks you up, carry you like a bridal up the stairs to your room. He lay you on your bed, help you take off your bra so you would feel more comfortable.

“Who are you?!” You drunkily asks, feeling Juyeon face.

“Juyeon, y/n” he sigh. He didn’t expect you to come home drunk like this.

“Juyeon! Hehe, the way you fucked me was so good. Not even my ex fuck me that good. Changmin too soft, I like my man rough and sexy...just like you” You grab Juyeon’s face and kiss the corner of his lips. Juyeon shake his head and wrap the blanket over your body.

“Go to sleep, it’ll be bad if your brother sees you like this” Juyeon pat your blanket.

“Juyeon, I gotta tell you a secret...don’t tell Juyeon” You sit up so you could tell him the secret, “I really like Juyeon but the thing keeping us apart is my brother. I don’t want him to lose a best friend. Juyeon is literally like a brother to my brother. He’s like that annoying dog who follows their owners around. Juyeon has a pretty face. Not to mention those lips of his, I wanna kiss it all the time. His eyes look so mean but he’s a big softie. I’d never thought I would fall in love with him not because of the sex or even his pretty face, I fell in love because, because...” you start dozing off.

Juyeon wanted to hear what you had to say but then he heard you started snoring he laughs. Juyeon can’t believe what he’s hearing from you, your honest thoughts about him. It made him smile. He kisses your forehead and turn off the light so you could sleep.

It’s been a month since the whole sleeping with each other had happened. Although you both promise no more, things just happen. From being strangers to hooking up behind your brother. You both tried not to make the hook ups with feels attached but you both cannot resist the feelings deep inside of you.

So you decided to give Juyeon a chance at dating. Of course you both kept it lowkey and haven’t told anyone. When the time is right and when things gets serious you’ll be the one to tell your brother.

“Open your mouth” Juyeon hold the ice cream waiting for you to open your mouth. You felt your cheeks getting red but you listen anyways.

“Hey, what are you thinking?” Juyeon caress your cheek.

You shook your head, “nothing I just can’t believe we’re doing this” you giggle. Juyeon entwined your fingers with his and rub it, reassuring you.

“We’re giving it a try, if it doesn’t work out, we can still be friends” Juyeon smiles, you felt like the tone in Juyeon’s voice was hurt but he didn’t want to show it.

“Come on, I want to show you something” You grab Juyeon’s hand and lead the way.

“Where are we going?” Juyeon whisper as you both enter and abandon building. You hush him. Once you get to the roof top, you let go of his hand as he wanders around. You turn on the neon lights and some other fairy lights. He gasp as he saw the place.

“This is amazing” he said in awe. You smile and push him softly by the edge of the rooftop.

“This is beautiful” you told him, his eyes catches Seoul’s night lights. You’ve always come here whenever you get tired of school and just wanted a lonely place to hang out. Your friends showed you this place but they haven’t come for a while so you made it your place.

“I come here to release some stress” you told Juyeon softly. The both of you watch the view of the city in silent.

“Seoul’s night is like New York City night. ‘The city that never sleeps’” you let out a smile and breathe the fresh winter air.

Juyeon leans down to kiss your lips, caught you by suprise at first but wrap your arm around his neck to deepen the kiss. The kiss was soft yet gentle. You never felt this way for a while. It felt great.

“Don’t get any dirty thoughts now” You playfully said. Juyeon laughs as he weak his arms around your waist.

“That’s for later though, let’s enjoy this view” he says. You both watch the dark, cold night in silent. With the both of you holding each other, keeping each other warm.

“I love this” You close your eyes as Juyeon’s warm breath tickle your neck.

“I’m going to tell Young Hoon about us” Juyeon broke the silence. You quickly turn around, Juyeon gave you a sad look.

“W-why?” You stutter. Panic started rushing in but Juyeon grab your hands and reassure you.

“Because I love you and I’m tired about being in the dark with my best friend. He’s starting to get suspicious and I can’t come up with excuses anymore” You look at him in awe.

“You love me?” You asks him. Juyeon nod.

“I am so fucking in love with you y/n and I cannot get you out of my mind” Juyeon says. Tears fell down your cheeks as you ran up to give him a kiss.

“I want to be the one to tell him, okay? You get choked up easily” You told him.

“I do?” He asks, you let out a soft laugh and nodded.

“You do” The both of you laugh in silent. The night just got better.

“Are you ready?” Juyeon asks. You can’t stop fiddling with the hem of your shirt. Juyeon hold your hands to assure you that everything will be okay.

“I could be the one to tell him” Juyeon asks but you completely shook your head no. You take a deep breath and let it out. You watch your brother come to where you guys were sitting, you let go of Juyeon’s hand and wave at your brother.

“Young Hoon!” You smile as your brother save back and sat in front of you.

“What’s going on?” Young Hoon asks with a serious face. He took a sip of your drink, which he spit it back out because it was too bitter for him.

“I WANT A DOG” You blurred it out. Your brother chuckles and fix the way he sits.

“You made me come here to just tell me you want a dog?” Your brother asks. You sigh and shook your head no.

“Juyeon and I have to tell you something?” You say. Your brother looks at you and Juyeon, you both were intimidated by his presence.

“We’re dating and even if you don’t approve we won’t stop seeing each other” you blurred it out. You were too nervous to do this but all you hear is a laugh from your brother.

“It took you guys a month to come clean?” He laughs and took another sip of your drink but made a funny face.

“What?” You and Juyeon asks.

“I kind of know you both were seeing each other and not to mention you both having sex when I was sleeping during winter break” Your brother exposed you. Both of your cheeks got red and you glance over at Juyeon who was also red.

“Y/n just know by turning up the volume of your tv that doesn’t mean I couldn’t hear you. I was up even before the two of you went to do the dirty things. I heard your conversations in the kitchen” Your brother explains. You his Juyeon’s shoulder and told him turning up the volume won’t work.

“All I’m going to say is, I’m okay with the two of you dating. Juyeon your my best friend and I trust you with my little sister’s life. It’s better for her to date you rather than her dating a low life” Your brother shade your ex. You kick him in the shin but you went up to him and hug him.

“Thank you Young Hoon, I love you!” You kiss your brother’s cheek. He pushes you away and wipe all the kisses away. He took another sip of your drink but also get the same impression.

“Seriously what is this?” He looks at the mysterious drink.

“If you hate why drink it?” Juyeon asks, you agree with him.

“I’m fascinated” He says and drink more. You all laugh. The tension in the air felt so much better. This is what you wanted.

[vs-redemption]

Worthwhile (Endeavor x Male!Reader)

Requested by: @dyceaverruncus

I was a little nervous to write this at first, but I ended up having a lot of fun with it. I hope it turned out the way you hoped! It was my first time writing for Endeavor and my first time writing for a male reader.

Living with a man like Enji Todoroki was a far cry from what you’d call domestic bliss. He was stubborn as a mule and had an irritable demeanor that most people just could not tolerate. The dark misdeeds of his past were enough baggage to drive anyone away and his bristly personality should’ve been the final nail in the coffin that contained his love life. There was one redeemable trait that stood out though, and that was Enji’s desire to change and be a better man. As far as shining heroes went, he was definitely a work in progress. He had a long way to go before he was on par with All Might, but the changes he was making in his everyday life had not gone unnoticed. Being a lower level employee at his agency had allowed you to see him trying to have more interaction with his fans and be more personable in interviews. Apparently you’d watched him a little too closely because you had ended up falling in love with the huge idiot.

At first, you dismissed your feelings as nothing more than a crush. There was no way the number one hero would even notice a guy like you let alone take you on a date, even with all of his personality flaws. He was strong and muscular while you were admittedly a bit squishier around the middle. You felt pretty sure you weren���t the type of guy he would go for. Your chances seemed to diminish even further after getting into a few heated arguments about the due dates for some of his reports. Most of your coworkers would apologize and take the blame when he missed a deadline, but you took too much pride in your work for that. For better or worse, you never hesitated to print off an email or make a phone call to prove you hadn’t made a mistake. You would’ve thought your actions would put you on his shit list, but it turned out they had the opposite effect. Enji started coming to you personally with requests and eventually started asking you to join him for lunch to go over his reports.

The lunch meetings progressively turned into lunch dates without either of you really noticing. Enji’s questions became less about the work you did at his agency and more about you and your personal life. At times, he’d regress to his old self and you’d have to call him out for being overbearing or controlling, but this never seemed to stop him from wanting to spend more time with you. His pride prevented him from doing anything that made him vulnerable though, so you were the one that had to bite the bullet and finally ask if you were boyfriends or not. Getting him to admit that you were was like pulling teeth, but it was well worth the struggle once he wrapped you in his huge arms for the first time. It turned out you should’ve never worried about your weight being an issue either because the man could not keep his hands off you whenever you were alone, and you’d nearly melted the first time he’d mumbled out how much he loved how soft you were.

As your relationship with Enji continued, he slowly began to open up to you. And once he really felt comfortable, he surprised even himself when he asked you to move in with him. It was a rocky transition to say the least, but you both managed to fall into a comfortable routine after a while. You’d first gone into the relationship with reservations about yourself, so it came as a shock to find out Enji had a few insecurities of his own.

“Look at this!” he bellowed while slapping a newspaper article down in front of you one morning. There was a picture of him on the first page that had been taken after he’d apprehended a villain the day before.

“You’re on the front page,” you point out with a shrug. “Shouldn’t you be happy?”

“I told them not to use that picture!” He turns away and stomps over to the refrigerator to grab the breakfast shake you’d prepared for him.

“Why?” you pull the paper closer to get a better look. “What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s just…” He growls in frustration and you worried he might lose his temper and set something on fire. It wouldn’t be the first time. “It’s just not flattering at all!”

“What?” You felt a little amused as you watched him get flustered. “What do you mean?”

“It must’ve been the angle of the camera,” Enji snatches the paper off the table and tosses it in the trash. “My thighs practically take up the whole picture.” You turn to look at him with raised eyebrows.

“Sorry to break this to you,” you tell him teasingly, “but your legs are massive. It has nothing to do with the angle of the camera.”

That had been the completely wrong thing to say because it sent Enji into a fiery rage ending with him storming out of the house to go to work without so much as a goodbye kiss. You never thought he’d be that self-conscious about the size of his thighs but you stored the information away for later since you were not above using it to your advantage. It definitely came in handy later that day when Enji returned home with an attitude just as sour as when he’d left.

“This place is a mess!” he shouts after just walking in the door, “What have you been doing all day?”

“I’m sorry,” you say even though the look on your face wasn’t very apologetic. “The house looked like this when you left this morning. I guess you didn’t notice.”

“You could’ve tidied up or something!” He crosses his arms over his broad chest. “This is unacceptable behavior.”

“Excuse me?” you stand up to confront him head on. You snatch the dirty t-shirt off the back of the couch. “You’re the one who leaves their laundry all over the place. Today was my day off and I didn’t want to spend it cleaning up after you.”

“How dare you talk back to me like that!” Enji puffs up his chest to try and look more intimidating.

“I’m your boyfriend, not your child,” You remind him flatly. “I’ll talk to you however I please. And if you don’t start treating me with a little more respect, there are going to be consequences.” Enji seems to hesitate for a moment after that.

“What kind of consequences?” he asks cautiously.

“How about I post all over the internet about your reaction to the newspaper this morning?” You suggest with a shrug, “or tell everyone that the number one hero is incredible enough to take down any villain in the country but can’t seem to throw a single pair of his dirty underwear into a hamper?”

Enji’s face was priceless. He definitely didn’t want to back down, but he also knew you weren’t bluffing about posting his embarrassing secrets for the world to see.

“You wouldn’t,” he says with false confidence.

“You feeling like testing that theory?” you walk up to him with a mischievous smirk. Enji furrows his eyebrows before letting out a sigh and shaking his head.

“Fine,” he mumbles under his breath, “I’m sorry.”

You told him he could prove it by throwing a load of clothes in the wash. He didn’t really appreciate that, but knew he’d lost the fight this time and couldn’t really complain. He also understood that his temper caused him to act inappropriately sometimes, so he was thankful that you had both the strength and patience to keep him from going back to the person he used to be. He always remembered to reward you for holding your ground during an argument too by offering to clean up the dishes after dinner and giving you extra cuddles at night so that neither of you would fall asleep angry at each other. The life you both lived couldn’t exactly be described as domestic bliss, of course, but there was a balance between the two of you that made every moment worthwhile.

[cptsdstudyblr]

I’m mentally ill. My home is always clean. Here’s how I do it.

Currently, I live in a goshiwon in Seoul, Korea. That means that my room is around 3.5 square meters (35-40 square feet). I have my own very small bathroom and I share a kitchen and common space with a lot of other people. When I return to the US at the end of the year, I’ll live in a room about twice the size (but with far less convenient of a layout) in an apartment shared with 4 other people. I keep both of these spaces completely clean all the time (including the rest of my apartment in the US). Here’s how:

The most important thing: I prioritize myself. 

For me, having a clean home vastly improves my mental health, so I make it a priority to keep my home clean. This is not the case for everyone. Do what helps you take care of you.

I make my bed and open my blinds every morning. 

I have a rule for myself that these are the two things I always do, no matter how awful I feel. I find that if my bed is made, my room seems 10x less messy than if my bed is unmade. And opening the blinds lets sunlight in, which has a huge impact on my mood.

I prioritize neatness over cleanliness.

This sounds counterintuitive, but I always make sure that everything is picked up and put away and that the house isn’t messy before I even think about cleaning dirty things such as sinks, toilets, showers, etc. Frankly, having a tidy space is much more beneficial to me than having a clean toilet.

This doesn’t mean that I don’t actually clean my things. I do, but I only do it when I have the mental fortitude to do so.

I wash my dishes immediately after eating.

I know that if I leave my dishes for even half an hour after eating, I will never come back to them. So I’ve made it a habit to wash them immediately when I finish. I also find it’s much more convenient in general to do this because dishes are easier to wash when the food hasn’t dried on and all my dishes are always clean. If you have a dishwasher, this step may not be as applicable.

When I use something, I put it away immediately.

Sometimes I do this to a fault (as in, I put things away when I’m not actually done with them). I have a place for everything, so I pull things out, use them, then put them back immediately. It’s not generally harder to put things back where you got them from rather than dumping them on the table, and it’s an easy way to keep the space tidy. The unfortunate reality is that this is a mental block you have to overcome, but it’s well worth the effort to overcome.

This applies to things like dirty clothes also. I just don’t ever set them on the floor - when I take them off, they go immediately into the hamper. Same with things I’m carrying when I enter my room - they immediately get put away.

I clean my shower and sink when I use them.

For my sink, I run my soapy sponge over it when I’m done washing my dishes, then I splash some water to rinse the soap down. I’ve made this a part of my dishwashing routine and it keeps my sink clean 100% of the time. I pretty much never have to actually think about cleaning my sink anymore.

In the shower (and the bathroom sink, if it’s separate), I use my soapy washcloth to do the same thing. I usually do this on the day I intend to wash the washcloth so that it’s not dirty when I’m cleaning myself with it. Once again, it’s just a part of my routine and I don’t really think about it anymore.

Most of these are realistically just habits. Unfortunately, there isn’t really a way to build these routines other than to just do them for a while. However, I find that these routines aren’t so draining that I stop doing them when I’m in a bad place. They’re easy to do and don’t require much thought, so they stick with me pretty much 100% of the time.

[tobesobri]

𝒮orry for the delay in this chapter 😬but i just want to say happy birthday to the anon that said this chapter is being posted on their birthday, i hope you had the best day ever!! and yeah, i really hope you all like this one because it’s one of my favorites! 

huge massive thank you to the incredible @youresogolden-h​ for editing ❤️

CHAPTER THREE: DRUNK TO AN 80S GROOVE (3.4K)

Harry and Y/N are friends…. with benefits, but not the kinds you’re thinking of.

🥥MASTERLIST 🌃INSPO TAG 🌻ASK TAG 💃PLAYLIST 🛌

Morning came and went by the time Harry woke up. With his curtains automatically shutting in the middle of the night and all sense of time lost, the only thing he knew for certain was that Y/N was gone. 

After confirming it, reaching out to find cold sheets instead of her warm body, he let out a huff and buried his face back into his pillows. He had wanted nothing more than to wake up with her in the morning and make coffee and just talk. But thinking back on his little daydreams from last night seemed extremely dumb to him now. She had a regular job with regular hours that she couldn’t be late for.

Once he got the energy to do so, he rolled onto his other side to grab his phone from the small, circular table next to his bed. He squinted at the bright light it gave off in his otherwise dark bedroom and then narrowed his eyes even more to read her message that had been sitting on his lockscreen for the past several hours.

(Y/N, 7:52 am)

Sorry I had to get to work.

Even in her texts she was concise. He grunted and practically threw his phone onto the emptied side of the bed. With his fingers dug deep into his hair and his palms covering his eyes, he thought about what she’d said last night for possibly the hundredth time since she’d said it. He still felt the knot in his throat and the stinging in his eyes from just simply repeating her words in his head again. 

For the entire time he’d known her, which was actually a decent chunk of time, he never would have guessed she felt that way. And he definitely would never have guessed she’d be telling him anything about it. He wondered how many nights she spent like last night where she didn’t have him to hold onto and he wondered if she was more like him than he’d thought. If she cried herself to sleep until it made her eyes burn the next morning. If she had the same destructive thoughts he did. Of not being good enough for anyone to stick around. Of desperately craving someone’s touch but being far too terrified to let anyone that close. 

They had their different reasons for it, but in the grand scheme of things, they were exactly alike. 

And he felt like a clown for never noticing it.

Friday night was suddenly not like all the other nights. She came home from work and didn’t immediately crawl into bed after throwing on her worn out sleep clothes. Instead she pulled out a clean pair of sweatpants and a shirt she hadn’t worn in a long time and actually tidied up her room, instead of just tossing things into a chair or under her bed like she had for Harry when he slept over the previous week. She actually put things back where they belonged. She joined the ever-growing, untouched stack of books on her floor with the rest of them on her shelves. She gathered her dirty laundry and put away all the clean stuff that had been sitting in her hamper for weeks since she last ran a washing machine. She saw the clean, white table top of her desk for the first time in months and actually sat down to write in her planner when she was done with it all.

She’d been here before, coming out of the dark, but this time felt different. It felt like she actually had something to hold onto that made her accountable for keeping her shit together. 

And so, after a much-needed shower, she actually joined her roommates in the kitchen and ate dinner at a reasonable hour.

“Finally out of your room,” James commented while Y/N started helping herself to their overflow of Chinese takeout. Will and his girlfriend, Sasha, were already eating at their thrifted dining table with a very tired and stressed Violet sat on the opposite side from them. 

Y/N ignored him for the most part, other than to give him a mocking look, and made a plate for herself before reluctantly joining the others at the table.

“Look at this!” Violet exclaimed, pointing the screen of her phone almost right into Y/N’s face and then, before Y/N could even make out what the picture was of, Violet shoved it toward Will and Sasha. “He’s already with some other girl. It’s only been one fucking week!”

Y/N kept quiet, keeping out of that conversation completely after last Saturday when Violet had kicked her out at four-thirty in the morning because her boyfriend had broken up with her while he was getting ready for work. 

She couldn’t hold too much of a grudge, however, because if that didn’t happen, she would have never gotten into bed with Harry to begin with. On the other hand, if things hadn’t gone the way they did, she’d still have all her secrets to herself that she stupidly blurted out last night, which she’d spent the better half of her day trying to forget. She was pretty sure she trusted Harry, as much as she was able to, but telling him things like that made her remember just how much she hated anyone knowing anything about how vulnerable she could be. 

Ignoring Violet going on about her cheating boyfriend was made even easier when her own phone dinged in her pocket. Even poor Will tried to change the subject by asking who was texting her, but it was no use. Y/N shrugged him off once she saw Harry’s name on her lockscreen and Violet went right back to her rantings.

(Harry, 6:37 pm)

Can you come over again tonight?

She hated the way his text gave her butterflies. Like she was some high schooler with a big fat crush on the hot, popular jock she could never have. Still, she could not deny that him asking her to come over again made her fucking heart melt.

She ate a bit of her dinner before responding to him; just enough time to think up a believable story for her roommates. She wouldn’t get away with her coworker's place this time. She didn’t work tomorrow and had no reason to be spending the night there. So, after a moment to devise a believable plan for her roommates, she gave Harry her simple answer.

(Y/N, 6:49 pm)

Yeah.

Then she spent the rest of her time at her own apartment trying to find the right moment to squeeze into the conversation about her not staying in her own room tonight. She did eventually get it out, making up a lie that she was going over to a friend’s place. Friends she hadn’t talked to or seen since college, but Will, James, and Violet didn’t need to know that.

“I didn’t even know you were still friends with them.” Will questioned while he washed dishes and Y/N dried them. The others were in the living room after they finished putting away the leftovers.

“Well, I haven’t talked to them in a while, but yeah.”

Will just shrugged and handed her another plate to dry and put back into the cupboard overhead. “I know you hate it when I get all sappy, but I’m really glad you’re seeing your friends again and you just seem… happier.”

They all knew Y/N had really rough days and mostly tried to ignore it and let her be like she had asked them too, but Will often tried to get through to her, even if just to remind her that he cared about her and wanted nothing more than to see her happy. 

She felt guilty about lying, that he had no clue what she was really doing. And even though her sleeping with his best friend and colleague was just that, sleeping, it still made her feel a bit dirty, like they weren’t just sleeping if she felt the need to hide it from everyone. 

Telling some of her closest friends that she and Harry were friends-with-cuddle-buddy-benefits was not something she saw happening. Not any time soon. Or ever.

Once the dishes were done and she had a bag packed to take over to Harry’s, she was back on the same winding roads up to his house. This time, however, she felt a little more confident. He wanted her to be here. She wasn’t imposing on him. She’d let him see a glimpse of her true colors last night and he was still asking her to come over again.

They ended up on his couch this time instead of going straight to bed, mostly because it had only been nine o’clock when she showed up and neither of them were tired enough yet. Plus, they couldn’t exactly drown themselves in a shared bottle of whiskey in his bedroom without potentially spilling it all over his 400 thread count sheets.

Once both their brains were swimming in alcohol, Harry finally said what he’d been meaning to the second she stepped foot inside his house. What he’d been thinking about the entire time they sat together and watched multiple episodes of Whose Line Is It Anyway, but he never found the right words or moment to do so.

“You’re not ugly.”

“What?” She flipped her head over to him, staring at him like he was crazy while he laid back against the cushions, practically half passed out at this point.

His eyes travelled to meet hers and his frown became even more prominent. “You’re not ugly and no one would be stuck with you, they’d be lucky to have you.”

She stared at him for a while, not even blinking until she finally averted her gaze and let his words sink in. She knew he was just drunk and possibly talking straight out of his ass, but it still made her feel better nonetheless. 

“I’m sorry about what I said. It’s kind of hard for me to believe you know anything about loneliness.”

He still stared up at her even though she refused to look at him again. “I see so many people every day, but I still come home to this big empty house all by myself at the end of it.”

She was quiet, letting him explain all the things she didn't understand about his personal life.

“I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but too many people, the only thing they want is an interview, a picture, a photoshoot. Whatever. All so they can make money, or get famous on the internet.” He paused and she could hear in his voice that he was tired, not necessarily physically, but mentally exhausted by what his life was truly like at the bottom line. “It’s extremely lonely when every single person you’ve let in your life like that just ends up taking advantage of you in the exact same way as everyone else.”

“What do you mean they’ve taken advantage of you?” Her voice was soft, trying her hardest not to sound as judgmental as she’d been with him last night. They both appeared to have their demons and she had no room to judge him for his. 

He sighed, picking at the front of his shirt distractedly. “My last girlfriend brought all her friends to this party I was having, but they just ended up stealing from me. They took pictures of my house, and of me when I was drunk. I felt like an idiot for trusting her the way I did… I still feel like an idiot.”

Her heart clenched in her chest listening to the way his voice cracked like he was only just breaking the surface of everything that happened in his previous relationship to make him as messed up as he was on the inside.

“So I was being a bit hypocritical when I got mad at you about not letting people in. You’re the first person I let get anywhere near me in over a year.”

“Why did you?”

He was staring at his hands in his lap when she looked over at him again. “I dunno.”

“Wow, great response, thanks,” she said sarcastically and it made him laugh at himself and come out of the hole he’d been digging himself into.

Once they were both done laughing, another risky question came to his mind, but just as he opened his mouth to get it out, she sighed and sat forward instead. “Think I’m gonna get ready for bed.”

“Okay,” he mumbled quietly before yawning at the mere thought of being passed out in his bed, “I’ll meet you up there.”

Nodding, she stood and on wobbly legs made her way upstairs where she vaguely remembered going last night. With her overnight bag in tow, she quickly found his bedroom again in the dimly lit upstairs area and flipped the lights on once she reached the bathroom. Her normal routine went a bit quicker this time, deciding one night without washing her face wouldn’t kill her.

She already knew, once she turned the bathroom light off and made her way back into his deserted bedroom, that she’d regret that decision when she woke up in the morning to new breakouts that had been waiting patiently to pop up.

Her tipsy mind didn’t care too much though and especially not when it cared a hell of a lot more about the view out his windows. So, instead of dragging her tired limbs to his bed, she went up to them, and looked out over the view of the city. At all the lights from tall buildings, other houses and traffic. It was beautiful, breathtaking and the whiskey swimming around her bloodstream couldn’t get enough of it. 

She stood there in front of the window for what felt like hours, staring off into the distance of a pretty good chunk of Los Angeles. It was a different view of the city than the ones she was used to. She usually hated it, the fake people, how expensive it was to do absolutely anything. She couldn’t even park her car at work for free. She hated how the streets always smelled like ass and the way her anxiety skyrocketed just from stepping out of her apartment building. It wasn’t a very forgiving city, but from way up here, she was in love with it.

Harry had already joined her in front of the windows by the time she realized he was there, a side effect of being in some weird drunken trance she supposed.

“This is the only thing I’ll miss about this place.” His voice was calm and quiet. Peaceful. His words weren’t so slurred and filled with disappointment as they had been earlier when he was dishing out his own confessions to her on the couch. 

She glanced over at him, lost now in the way the moonlight reflected off the high points of his face. She always thought Harry was attractive, but seeing him like this and knowing the things about him she’s sure he kept to himself most of the time, made her see him in a whole new light. Like she was meeting him for the very first time and just now realizing all the little things about him. From the way he stood with his weight off to one side and his arms folded across his chest to the way his eyes sparkled just like the city lights below them. All things she probably wouldn’t even be thinking about if she hadn’t gotten herself drunk.

“The automatic curtains are pretty cool.” He shook his head at her stupid little joke and she easily recognized the smile on his face from the shadows of his dimples. Another little thing about Harry she was just now learning to fully appreciate. As well as the way her stomach did cartwheels when he laughed at something she said. 

If she wasn’t drunk, every little feeling about Harry would be an enormous red flag telling her to slow the fuck down. That she was getting a little too carried away. 

And when he was no longer standing next to her, when he disappeared into the bathroom to get himself cleaned up for bed, she found one little thing about Harry she didn’t like. 

His absence. 

She was more at ease being the first one to crawl into Harry’s bed. She didn’t have to worry about getting too close to him right off the bat, or about pulling the covers off of him accidentally. She could get herself comfortable first and with this whole situation being so foreign to her and so new, she needed it. She needed a chance to get used to it on her own. To dip her toes into the water until she felt fully acclimated to the temperature. 

And once he finally joined her, she was. His bed slowly started to become like her own, even if she had only slept there once before. The anxiety subsided while it finally began to feel as though she belonged right there next to him. 

Even from a distance, as he left plenty of space between them, she felt the heat of his body radiating off of him and his impression in the mattress where he laid. She felt him wiggle around a little until he got comfortable. 

And then finally, she held her breath, prayed that she wouldn’t accidentally kick him, and backed up toward him until she could actually feel him. Until she bumped her shoulder into his chest and her foot against his shin. 

Only drunk Y/N would be pulling such bold moves. 

He kept his hands to himself though, and she grew anxious the longer he stayed silent. There was still a small gap between her back and his front, no more than half an inch. Space he didn’t attempt to fill for a long enough amount of time to make her overthink her actions. Like maybe she was being too forward. Maybe they were better off falling asleep apart and naturally coming together through the night. 

But, when she felt his breath on her neck, tickling loose strands of her hair against her skin, she stopped worrying so much. “S’it okay if I touch you?”

Her heart just about stopped when she heard him whisper that, because hearing him ask for permission she realized he’d been sitting there overthinking as much as she had. Wondering if he should just go for it or not. Not being sure if she’d be okay with that. 

And not that she’d ever tell him, but it was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for her, the way he’d asked first. Because Y/N didn’t like to be touched very much at all. It was a rarity for her to be okay with anyone putting their hands on her for whatever reason. 

But, for whatever reason, she hadn’t minded the few times Harry had done it. In fact, she’d craved his touch. It was something she never thought possible of her, but here she was breaking her own rules.

She nodded, “Yeah.”

As if in slow motion, he slipped his hand onto her side, bringing his body closer to hers as he carefully hugged his arm around her. And with her own arms crossed over her chest, cuddling into herself, he gently grabbed her wrist to hold himself into place. It took them both a couple more moments to get into comfortable positions, but it eventually worked out. He held onto her tighter once he laid his head down on his pillow, breathing in the scent of her coconut shampoo with his face practically buried in the back of her head, and he started drifting off. 

It became very clear, very quickly, that being the big spoon to his pillows was no match for Y/N. Not with how warm she made him feel or the way her breathing offset his and calmed him down. He wasn’t sure he’d ever felt the way he did with her with anyone else either. It was different. Y/N had no cold spots, no ill-intentions. She couldn’t possibly want anything from him when she refused to speak to him up until a week ago. He felt free with her. As free as he had been as a child, when he didn’t care about disappointing people and when he didn’t live in a constant state of paranoia about who he could trust. When he didn’t overthink himself into insomnia or toss and turn all night from the stress of it all.

Feeling her against him, breathing her in. He was free.

Taglist: @afterstylesmadeit​ @cxnyon-moon​ @and-im-not-okay-with-it @chrryblsms​ @whydontharry​ @harryinsweatersandbandanas​ @idkthisisjustforfanfic @teddysoldbird​ @shawnsblue​ @thurhomish​ @theasstour​ @hufflepuff-always-and-forever​ @staceystoleyourheart​ @granolagrannie​ @defineharry​ @iambabyharry​ @1142590m​ @ashtondene​ @smokeinherperfume​ @cherryyharryy​ @mellamolayla​ @chrryblsms​ @cassiopeiaskies​ @sunflowerjens​ @detroitkiwis​ @brwnskin-bunnyteeth​ if you’d like to be added, go here :)

[thatwriterkei]

Dreaming of You.

°A/N; Sorry it's so long!! 😅❤️

•Summary: In which, Y/N invites the whole gang over to her place for a sleepover.

•Warnings: FLUFF, and some cursing as well

*MASTERLIST*

________________

Y/N's home wasn't the cleanest in the world. The place had a few documents and bills lying around that belonged to her parents, from the kitchen counters to the coffee table in the living room, but still clean as it was going to get. Her room though was a completely different story.

There were clothes strung along her dresser and windowsill, her comforter wrinkled and tossed around from waking up in a frenzy a couple of times; She slept through her alarms. It wasn't too trashy..Just covered in piles of dirty dishes she was too lazy to bring down to the kitchen sink. It's not her fault hot pockets are the most enjoyable meal while in bed...At 2 in the morning on a school night while you're trying to write a last minute English paper. It didn't matter though because today was the day she would finally spiff it up. Mainly because her friends would be arriving in two hours. That isn't a lot of time, huh?

After years and years of knowing MJ, Peter and Ned, not once did their sleepovers and late night study sessions occur in the comfort of her room. It didn't bother the group, but it was quite a surprise when Y/N offered to host a sleepover the following day.

Now it was Saturday and with all the homework she was given from her teachers, Y/N nearly forgot about the sleepover she arranged. Sure the snacks, drinks and movies were all set up and ready to go but definitely not the space they would be using.

She tossed the strayed dirty clothes into the nearby hamper, giving herself a mental note to start a wash the following day.

By the time it was six o'clock, her room was squeaky clean with a few appliances lingering around that was used to tidy the room. Once those were put away in the hallway closet, she heard a doorbell ring followed by some chatter near the front door that belonged to her mother's and a familiar female voice. Y/N peaked around from the hallway upstairs to see who it was and, sure enough, it was MJ. To be truthful, Y/N expected her to arrive on the dot so it wasn't too much of a shocker. She quickly ran down the stairs to greet the brunette.

"If it isn't Michelle Jones! Back again to torture me?" Y/N teased.

"The only thing I'm going to torture you with tonight is confessing to Peter and how you like him sooo much." The corners of MJ's lips curved into a small cocky smirk.

Thoroughly embarrassed, Y/N punched the girl's upper arm with such feebleness it almost tickled.

"Hey, don't say that too loudly! My parents could hear and, my god, I don't need more people teasing me about how obvilous my crush is on him. Even I'm surprised he hasn't found out!"

While she spoke, the pair walked upstairs to Y/N's sparkling room.

"I mean he's stupid for not realizing it but you're also dumb for not confessing so, really it's on you. Just tell him when he comes over tonight, easy as that."

Y/N slumped on her freshly made bed with a soft groan. "There's no way in hell I'm doing that! I swear, sometimes you just want to see me suffer."

"I wouldn't say suffer..More like, tolerating situations with consequences."

She lifted her head with a raised eyebrow, "That's basically the same thing!"

After chatting for another 15 minutes about random topics that came up, the doorbell rang again. Soon enough, her mother sent up the two excited boys. Ned bursted into Y/N's room without knocking while Peter looked around eagerly. No, this wasn't the first time he entered a girl's room but it would be funny if it was.

"Geez, ever heard of knocking?" MJ commented, her previous smile being replaced with a slightly annoyed look.

"Yes, but I didn't think it was necessary." Ned quickly retorted, taking a seat at one of the two bean bags Y/N had in her room. MJ was sitting in the other one.

"You mind if I sit here?"

It seemed as though Peter was the only polite one in this scenario.

Y/N's cheeks flushed to a red shade and her heart skipped a beat. She felt her heart rate quickening each moment that passed while their eyes stayed connected.

"Of course I don't mind, silly! Sit back and relax, you're on Y/N's property now. No worries for anybody, except me. Speaking of which, I'll get those pizza rolls in the oven! MJ, come with me please?" The look in her eyes showed that MJ didn't have a choice to come with Y/N or not.

The two girls left without another word spoken, only the sound of footsteps running down the stairs as they made their way to the empty kitchen.

Her parents stayed in their room for the time being, watching god knows what but they sure spent most of their time in there. Y/N didn't want to think about it though. She was freaking out way too much about how innocent and cute the look on Peter's face was when he asked her.

"Oh my god, did you see him? His eyes, they were so freaking adorable! And his smile, I swear it's brighter than a full moon."

MJ quirked an eyebrow. "And I swear you're about to give me a headache with all this mushy gushy romance stuff."

Y/N grabbed the bag of pizza roles from the freezer while MJ pulled out a silver tray.

"Oh c'mon, you can't internally gag at that. Did you not see how he was the only polite one? Clearly he's nicer than you and Ned."

"And yet, who do you share your utmost dreams and fantasies about him with?" MJ's lips formed a smirk again.

"My diary." Y/N replied with a deadpanned expression on her face.

Meanwhile, Ned was nearly doubling over in laughter after the girls left. Peter was panicking just a little bit.

"Shit, did I say something wrong? I just made a fool of myself, didn't I?"

Ned eventually caught his breath from laughing so passionately. "Oh my god. Stop being so dramatic and man up. She was probably just gushing over you because you're literally on her bed! Do you know how close you two are? You're practically dating already."

Peter rolled his eyes. "Be quiet, or she might hear you! Besides, I highly doubt she holds any real deep feelings for me. I'm going to be in the friend zone forever, Ned."

He flopped back on the bed, a dreamy sigh escaping his lips.

"I just want to tell her how much I like her, but she deserves to be loved by somebody who is dashing, compassionate, and compliments her beauty. Somebody who is able to spoil the hell out of her because she just deserves it. I'm not saying that I couldn't fulfill that role but she most likely isn't interested in-"

MJ walked through the door, trying to stifle a small chuckle after overhearing part of the conversation. "And who isn't interested in whom?"

"Huh? What're we talking about?" Y/N arrived momentarily after, holding two plate fulls of fresh, piping hot pizza rolls.

"Nothing, nothing!! Yum, pizza rolls! Thanks Madame Y/N!" Peter steered the conversation away and shoved a roll into his mouth. He immediately regretted it.

It took everything in Y/N's power to not drop the plates. "Oh my god, Peter!! You dumb dumb, it just came out of the oven!"

She set them down on the bed beside Peter, shaking her head disappointedly at the pouting male. "Do you want some ice cream? It's a little too early to have some since the movies haven't started but I can get you a drink instead?"

Then one thing after another happened and the group finally settled with MJ and Ned on the comfy dark bags and the adorable lovebirds on Y/N's bed. The group of friends were currently engrossed in Shrek with the occasional laughter filled the room.

Y/N was the only one beginning to doze off. Her body desperately yearned for something cozy to snuggle into. The closest thing to her was none other than Peter.

Peter felt the weight of Y/N's head land on his right shoulder and her arms snake around his torso. This wouldn't be the first time they bundled together, but the fluttery feeling they got in their chests didn't go unnoticed by their intertwined hearts.

Peter shifted in his position to lay both of them down. The bed creaked a little but, luckily, Y/N didn't awaken. He inhaled some, her faint perfume making its way through his nostrils. To Peter, Y/N felt like home. A place where he didn't feel judgement, only kindness and support. He enjoyed her presence, and as did she with him.

By the time the movie had ended, the two had fallen asleep with their legs tangled together. MJ and Ned noticed this, and boy did they go crazy with photos. Eventually, they went to bed as well after MJ went in search for some blankets and pillows.

At around five in the morning, Y/N quietly murmured in her sleep. "Mm..Peter..No..Don't leave..I need some more...Cuddles. Please? Thank you."

Peter began to wake up due to her soft chatter, but he vaguely remembered hearing her say his name.

"Huh? What was that, Y/N/N?" He asked in a drowsy tone. The bed dipped a little when Peter attempted to pull back from her tight grasp around his waist.

"Stop moving, Pete." She grumbled, snuggling herself closer to his chest.

He chuckled at her protests, grazing his thumb against her soft cheeks. "Sorry.. What're you dreaming about?"

"Dreaming of you.." Y/N mumbled.

"Y-You are?" He hesitated, "You know..I really like you. I'm not sure how to explain my feelings for you, but I do know that you're incredibly beautiful inside and out. And the goofy smile you always have own your face is just adorable. You care for everybody, and I admire that. I deeply admire you.."

Y/N lifted her head, staring up at the curly haired boy in awe. "You like me?"

"Shit, I thought you were dreaming about me!"

"What?! How did you know?"

MJ's voice cut through their conversation. "Will you two go back to sleeping and cuddling each other? Sheesh."

Now recovering from her drowsy state, Y/N's cheeks turned to a faint rosy shade. "I really like you too.."

"I'm so glad. I was about to lose my mind.." He chuckled a little, pressing a chaste kiss to her cheek.

The two returned to resting, now especially easier; With their heart beats in sync and souls intertwined.

________________

@peterspideyy @har-rison-s @peeterparkr @parkershoodie @givelove-always @waitimcomingtoo @dedeimagines @that-one-eggo-child

[polyamorousmisanthrope]

📷I took five minutes to vacuum my closet the other day. It was part of my routine cleaning, no big deal. It was just a quick thing to check off on my cleaning list. I removed some boxes of stuff in the bottom, a few pairs of slippers, and vacuumed. I replaced the stuff and went on with my---

No. I didn't.

No, I looked at the bottom of the closet in a state of shock and burst out laughing.

I have spent a large portion of my life trying to get organized. When I was a child, "cleaning my room" really did mean tossing everything I could think of where to put it in a closet so that it looked tidy when Mom poked her head in. I was the child with the cubby under the desk in grade school so stuffed with papers and junk that it was simply impossible to add or find anything.

This level of disorganization bothered and embarrassed me. It really hurt and made me feel like a failure.

As a teenager, my backpack also became a mess of papers, random items, books, and paraphernalia (no, not that kind. In many ways, I was hopelessly square)

As an adult, it wasn't much better. My desk was full of bills to be paid, papers I didn't want to face, things that were vaguely sentimental but not enough to display anywhere. My closet?

That was still the place where I hid stuff I didn't have a place for but wanted the room at least to appear a little tidy.

How long from a stuffed closet to a tidy closet?

It took about thirty years.

I wasted a lot of that time, though. I addressed it in cycles. "Starting now, I'm finally going to get organized!" I'd spend several hours a day over a few weeks cleaning, organizing, and playing possessions Tetris with my home. After a month or so, know what? The house would look great!

Then, inevitably, the house would no longer look great. I'd clean the kitchen well enough to prevent food poisoning, but more than that? Not so much.

Ever done that? C'mon, it's okay. We all have.

Being tidy over time is all about consistent action.

You can, indeed, get the house clean with heroic effort, just as you can work really hard to train for an athletic event.

The problem comes in when you do something intense for a short period. As I mentioned in my last post, heroic effort is unsustainable.

Several of my favorite housekeeping systems (Flylady and Unfuck Your Habitat) talk about starting very small – shining your sink or making your bed. They are so right!

It's not about getting tidied or organized quickly. It's about developing consistent habits. For a lot of people, that's enough.

But for some…

Executive dysfunction can interfere with consistency.

If you have organizational or distraction issues, habits may not be enough. Autism, ADHD, and a host of other neurodivergent issues centered around executive dysfunction make it hard to do things that seem pretty obvious to the neurotypical person. What? You need to wash the dishes after a meal? No kidding. Go do it!

As I was writing this article, I broke for dinner. Guess what is in my sink right now?

I thought about it, got up, scrubbed the pan a little, realized it needed to soak some more, and sat back down here to write. Sure, sure, I'll get to it after I finish this, no biggie. But if my sink was full of dishes other than that pan, if I had laundry on my sofa, a desk drawer full of unaddressed bills, and my phone beeping that I needed to get up and get my car to the garage to get the brakes done, would I be getting back to that pan in any reasonable amount of time?

*Hollow laugh*

People with executive dysfunction issues can find their problems painful.

Maybe some people laugh and think it's cute to be disorganized. It never felt cute to me. It hurt because I had a hard time doing what I wanted to do. I was utterly desperate to get my life under control. Completely and utterly desperate from the time I was nine years old. That's a heavy load.

Jokes about executive dysfunction aren't cute.

I know the whole "squirrel!" joke about distractibility is mean to make people feel better and okay with themselves. I never wanted to be okay with chaos. I wanted the chaos to stop. It hurt. It interfered with accomplishing what I wanted to. It was exhausting. It used up time I wanted to spend on other things. I wanted a clean canvas so that when I jumped from obsession to obsession to obsession, I could feel like I was using that time intelligently rather than as a distraction from things that were bothering me.

Late fees, court cases, and lost jobs aren't cute, either.

There's an ADHD vlogger that I really like named Jessica McCabe. She's brilliant and adorable, and being a little bit of the manic pixie thing is part of her brand. It gets people to listen to broad issues of executive dysfunction. People will accept and listen to that stuff sometimes and find it palatable if someone is small and young and cute. (She's a LOT older than her looks or mannerisms would indicate, by the way).

So, the brilliant part. Quite sure McCabe knows what she's doing with that because sometimes she drops the adorable thing. The pain of being disorganized or having a hard time directing attention is very, very clear. If she weren't so cute, it would be unlikely as many people would listen to the important things she is saying. There's more to her than cute by a long shot. (And don't get me started on the sexism of it).

But that whole "cute" thing about disorganization. It's not so cute when unpaid bills land you in court. That has happened to me. With money in the BANK, that has happened to me! (Or without money. *shrugs* That, too). It's not cute when you have to buy a car at interest rates that are close to what you'd pay on a credit card. Yeah, that's happened, too. That we're in good financial shape now is a miracle.

There is a cultural narrative of *giggle* *giggle* "I'm so distractable!" to try to ameliorate the pain of being disorganized. Know what? It's not funny. It hurts.

Proscriptive solutions won't work.

I use a Bullet Journal just about with the out-of-the-box method that Ryder Carrol posted in that first video he did about it. I tried it, and it clicked.

Know what wouldn't have clicked? Someone making me do it when I was fifteen.

This is where you, if you have problems with executive dysfunction, might wonder if I can provide an answer for you. Know what? I can't.

I can say, "You need a Bullet Journal." I mean, I'll think it. I wouldn't say it. Know why? It won't necessarily work for you.

What I will say is that you need to find methods that work for you.

"Okay, smartybrat," I hear you cry, "if you can't offer a solution, what do I do?"

Create systems that support you

This is going to look different depending on how you think. Does a beepy reminder go bing! and prompt you to do stuff? Do you like to have a menu of tasks that you choose from depending on how easily they grab your attention in the moment?

What primes you to take action?

What plans have you followed through on (c'mon, you do have some if you're alive past 20), and what about them made you feel good?

My husband doesn't use a Bullet Journal. He plans his day using a calendar app. If there's an interrupt to a task, he'll move it to another free time. When you first try this, I strongly encourage you to multiply your estimation of task time by at least four until you get good at estimating how long something will take. If you have executive dysfunction issues you're struggling with, I'd bet at least a nickel that you're not good at estimating how long things take yet.

What stops you from taking action? Can you remove the interrupts?

A simple example would be to take the dirty clothes hamper's lid off if that's enough to discourage you from tossing your clothes in the hamper. Still, I'm not talking about "Tips 'n Tricks" here. I hate tips 'n tricks! They're like taking a Tylenol when you cut off your leg. You need to extrapolate that to life systems to support how you want to live.

Your system is useless until you define "good enough."

I could skip the next two or three times I need to vacuum my closet, and I wouldn't care. If I get to it every year or so, it's absolutely good enough. "Good enough" means I address my paperwork file once a week and clear it out. I don't have to do it every day unless I feel like it. "Good enough" is walking for five minutes on the hour around my living room until I get my 10,000 steps in. I don't have to walk for three miles unless I want to. "Good enough" is spreading up the bed and tossing the shams at the head. I don't have to bounce a quarter off the damn thing unless I get a wild hare to do that sometimes. Don't give yourself an image of perfection you have to attain, or you'll do nothing.

It's okay for "good enough" to change

Remember how it took thirty years to get to vacuuming a closet? There was a time when that chore wasn't on the "good enough" list, and ya know what? That's fine. Have your "good enough" be slightly, but only slightly, ahead of what you're currently doing if you want to make improvements. Incremental improvements over time, and I mean decades, are pretty dramatic when you look back.

Good enough can stay good enough

My exercise parameters have me getting in an average of 10,000 steps a day as measured over a month. That is never going to change. If the Spirit moves me, I'll do more. But I'm not going to keep raising the bar over and over and over. This is it. I'm good. I'm maintaining.

It takes decades to get your life in order. What small thing will you do today?

[caiminnent]

please, be golden [kylux, rated T]

PROMPT: worked themselves to exhaustion (@badthingshappenbingo​​​, 12/25) & @kyluxzineproject​

SUMMARY: After Snoke's death, Supreme Leader Ren and General Hux try to keep the First Order from falling apart—each in their own way.

FANDOM: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy

TAGS: Bad Things Happen Bingo, First Order Politics (Star Wars), Diplomacy, Supreme Leader Kylo Ren, Established Relationship, Courting, Idiots in Love, Overworked Armitage Hux, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Stimulants

NOTES: Here is my Kylux Standard Zine work to pair with @mi-caw-ber​‘s amazing art! Find the art here on Tumblr and weep with me.

Below is only a 1.4k of snippet of the fic; because posting 11k on Tumblr in one go is just... no.

11K || ALSO ON AO3

Ren barges in at 0225.

Rather, Ren bangs his massive paw on the door and waits just long enough to make it technically not barging in before the access panel beeps. He storms past the office space without a stray glance in. The refresher door slams closed a moment later.

Well. That answers how it went.

Hux sighs, slumping in his chair. Figures that Ren would choose now to leave his lair. He couldn’t have shown himself when Hux could use his intimidating presence yesterday, of course not. Couldn’t have defended the Order he’s supposed to be leading against that boar Kratkitki at the holo-conference earlier. No, Hux had to face all that, alone—like he always does.

He ought to cite reports to write and turn Ren away—better yet, let him stay. Would serve Ren well to toss and turn alone while Hux sits in the next room, nearby but unreachable. No help at all.

If only.

Double-checking that the documents are synched, he disconnects his datapad and switches off the monitor, leaving the empty cups lying on his desk. It’s going to be a seven-minute shower, if Ren’s eerie silence is any indication; tidying up can wait.

He’s wrong, for once. It’s full ten minutes before Ren steps out of the refresher in a cloud of humidity and honey soap—long enough for Hux to change and leave a clean set out for Ren, for hygiene’s sake. Ren might be fine with wearing the same clothes for a standard week straight; but he’s not coming anywhere near Hux’s bed in them.

At least Ren stopped taking offence at the gesture.

Ren undresses swiftly, not a care for modesty—his or Hux’s. Keeping his eyes on the clothes he’s folding and putting away, “Your quarters come with a ‘fresher attached as well, surely,” Hux says. A nice one, too, what with having been Snoke’s star pupil back in the day. Ren has no reason to keep coming to Hux’s quarters for a shower. “Unless you destroyed yours.”

The bundle of black fabric floating past halts above the hamper.

Hux’s stomach sinks.

A muscle in his cheek twitching, “Ren,” he sighs, the word sour in his mouth. He was jesting, for stars’ sake. They are—he thought they were beyond meaningless destruction by now, that it had become one of those things: things from their shared past that they could gingerly jest about now, to be openly laughed at one day. Isn’t that why they’re doing this? What’s the point of this if it’s not helping Ren keep his head?

Nothing, obviously.

Hands clenching and unclenching at his sides, “I didn’t destroy my refresher,” Ren says, his voice only slightly raspy with disuse instead of the regular post-tantrum hoarseness.

Then again, if Ren had had a tantrum and gone through his quarters, someone would have heard and reported it to Hux, too. His datapad has been mercifully—mercilessly—quiet the entire delta shift.

A twinge of guilt passes through his chest.

“All right,” he says, because sorry doesn’t belong between the two of them. If they started to apologise for every hurtful word and assumption they have ever thrown at each other’s face, they would be here all month.

Not that the word is likely to exist in Ren’s vocabulary.

“I didn’t!” Ren snaps, the corners of his lips turning down at the perceived insult, body growing stiffer in indignation—on the verge of that tantrum, now. The hovering bundle starts quivering violently.

Stars, it is far too late into the delta shift to deal with Ren’s moods.

Resisting the urge to dig the heels of his palms into his eyes until white sparks in his vision—satisfying as it would have been—Hux forces the lines of his body to relax instead, an invitation for Ren to mirror him. The simplest way to defuse Ren is to give him a lead to follow.

Meeting his gaze, “I believe you, Ren,” he says, mild but clear, honest—at least, honest-sounding enough to give Ren’s building agitation a pause. He doesn’t give Ren time to size up his sincerity before heading to the refresher himself, unlatching Ren’s dirty bundle from empty air along the way.

He doesn’t linger long, still not comfortable going about his full routine while not alone in his quarters. A hot shower to wash away the cycle’s—hells, week’s—troubles would be blissful; but the cubicle is still wet from Ren’s turn and anyway, the idea of undressing again and standing under the spray doesn’t hold much appeal at this hour, even if he already won’t be able to fall asleep soon with the amount of caf in his system.

Besides, the Supreme Leader is waiting.

He half-expects to find Ren still standing there and fidgeting when he walks in; but Ren has already settled in the middle of the bed, a dark lump against the white bedding, the plush duvet pushed to his waist. Ren has done him the courtesy of letting him choose his side, although it matters little when he pulls Hux close as soon as Hux slides under the covers. Hux puts up only the token fight before getting comfortable between Ren’s arms, kicking the rest of the duvet out of the way. Ren runs hot enough to make any extra coverage unbearable within minutes.

They lie in… not peace, but an acceptable approximation of it. His head is buzzing with everything he’ll need to take care of after his first cup of caf later in the cycle; Ren distracts him by nosing at his neck, his ear, his hair before it can latch onto anything specific. For his own sake. When they are—when Ren is being this way, affectionate and indulgent, Hux is foolishly, dangerously willing to dismiss that Ren is the reason his task list is so long. That he wouldn’t even be in Hux’s bed right now had Ren not failed again.

He is too tired to muster up the disappointment.

“Tell me something,” Ren whispers.

“Yes?”

Ren shifts behind him. “No, I mean—talk to me. Tell me about your week.”

He snorts. “You don’t want to hear about my week.” Nor does Hux want to talk about his week, giant waste of time that it has been. Following-up on holo-mails that go nowhere, trying to prioritise the plethora of critical issues they must allocate for in their budget, status reports that show nothing but how the High Command is sitting with their thumbs up their arses while the First Order’s funds dwindle and glory slips further out of their reach. If he were the Supreme Leader—

—but of course, he isn’t the Supreme Leader. Is that not the root of their predicament? Nothing he can offer to potential allies and benefactors will ever be enough to sway them to their cause while the Supreme Leader of the First Order hides away and seeks guidance from ghosts.

A breeze brushes against his mind; mild, warm wind over chilled skin, caked scent of suns over damp ground, raw dough and—

His jaw locks with a click, a lungful of recycled air and faux-honey shattering the deception easily enough. That storm is developing across his forehead again, the spot above his brow pulsing in time with his heart hammering in his throat. “Ren.”

“I’m not in your head,” Ren amends. “I just sensed your… grievances.”

“You are the biggest,” Hux grits out, shifting away—Ren’s arm snaked across his entire middle holds him in place. When did that happen? “Ren. Let go of me.”

“Talk to me,” Ren repeats, chapped lips catching on Hux’s hair. “I can’t ease your mind if you don’t.”

It will take more than half-remembered pillow talk to ease Hux’s mind. It will take more than talking, if they are to solve anything. However, Ren has got a point. Division of work is a key principle in a functional organisation so long as all parties are aware of the big picture—which Ren might not be, having operated outside of the Order for the longest time. Perhaps it’s time for an alternate approach.

When Hux isn’t hurting to sink his teeth at Ren’s bared throat and Ren can be reasonably expected not to fling himself into that temper tantrum they’ve narrowly missed at the slightest provocation.

“Tomorrow,” he promises. Tomorrow, they talk.

[deanieweaniewrites]

In Your Loving Arms

Rated: T

Warnings: None

Words: 2.6k

Tags: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Bipolar Castiel, Caring Boyfriend Dean

This is a fic that’s very personal to me. I wrote it just to make myself feel better, and in posting it I hope it gives some comfort to someone else in the way it comforted me. That being said, there is a lot of mental health talk in this, so it is a heavy read. Proceed with caution if that stuff bothers you. There is no angst in this, all fluff, but the themes are what make it heavy. I hope you enjoy.

~~~

Castiel pulls a pillow over his head when he hears his phone vibrate for the third time in the past five minutes. His body feels weighed down and his head is thick with fog. He isn’t sure if he’s about to cry or if he’s just numb. The room is completely dark save for the light peeking around the blackout curtains on his windows. It’s past noon and he hasn’t left his bed yet. It’s a Saturday so he doesn’t have anywhere to be.

He rolls onto his back and stares up in the ceiling. He’s been in this shirt for three days now. He hears his phone buzz again and closes his eyes. He knows who it is. He wants to talk to him, but it feels too hard. He hates it when anyone interacts with him while he’s like this. It’s too embarrassing. 

It was two years ago, when he turned eighteen, that he was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. The diagnosis came as no shock. He had his suspicions since he was fifteen. Castiel was put in therapy then, and he had been in and out of it for two years. It was hard to find a therapist that he liked. 

For the past six days, he has been in another one of his depressive episodes. They usually last between two and three weeks. All he’s managed to do in the past six days is go to his university classes and remember to feed himself once a day. He’s stayed locked away in his room for the rest of the day. He’s spent most of the days sleeping or watching youtube. 

He’s fortunate enough to have someone else who lives in his apartment that mostly leaves him alone. Balthazar is a nice friend and he gets along with Castiel. He doesn’t bother Castiel when things get bad like this only because he knows how much Castiel wants to be left alone. 

Castiel rolls onto his side and kicks a pile of dirty clothes off of his bed. The floor of his small bedroom is no longer visible due to the buildup of trash and clothes. There’s a small path that leads out the door and another that leads to the bathroom, which is also a mess. The mess usually builds up for days prior to an episode, and that’s how Castiel tells that it’s coming. 

His phone buzzes again and he finally decides to look at the messages. 

Dean: Hey Cas. I know it’s getting rough for you right now. Can I come over?

Dean: I know you don’t want anyone to see you, but I miss you

Dean: It’s not just that, I can help. I’m not judging you and I just want to help. 

Dean: I just texted Balth and asked if you were home. I’m coming over. 

Dean: I’m here. Balth is going to let me in.

Castiel sighs heavily. He’s been with Dean for nearly a year now. Dean is very familiar with Castiel’s pattern and has never judged him for anything. He’s been nothing but accepting and loving. The one thing Castiel hadn’t allowed yet was for Dean to see him during a depressive episode. It sucked to go for two or three weeks without seeing Dean, but he was too embarrassed to let him in. He’d much rather hide and then clean up the mess afterwards. 

But now, Dean is here. Castiel hears him entering the apartment. He wants to frantically start picking up the mess in his room, but he’s too tired to get up. He sits up and fights back tears. He just waits for the inevitable disgust from Dean. This could very well be the end. How could Dean still respect him after seeing how bad this is? 

~~~

Dean gently knocks on Castiel’s bedroom door. He hears some movement from inside. “I’m coming in, okay?” 

He opens the door and looks at the floor. He’s never seen Castiel’s room like this. Usually his boyfriend was very tidy. The room was always bright and warm with homely decor. Right now, it looks like a different room. The floor is completely covered save for two paths carved through it. The bed is rumpled, the desk is covered in trash, and right in the center of the bed sits Castiel. He has his knees tucked to his chest, and even through the darkness of the room, Dean can see the tears on his cheeks. “Can I turn the light on?”

“Mmhm.”

Dean flips the light on and closes the door behind himself. He holds up a takeout container. “I brought you food. It’s those chicken tenders from that one restaurant you like.”

Castiel doesn’t look Dean in the eyes. He buries his face in his knees and sniffles, clearly fighting back the urge to sob.

Dean walks through the small path and sits down on the bed. He sets the food down and gently places a hand on Castiel’s back. “I’m sorry if you don’t want me here. I just can’t stand that you’re in here suffering by yourself. I would have done this sooner if I had known it was this bad. You’re not alone, okay? I love you and I want to help you through this.”

Castiel hiccups and wipes his eyes against his arm. “I’m embarrassed. I never let anyone see me like this because I know how disgusting it is. I haven’t showered in...I think five days. I don’t want anyone to know that I spend part of my life living like this.”

Dean rubs Castiel’s back. “You don’t need to be embarrassed, certainly not around me. Look, I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re going through right now. All I know is that I want to help. You don’t have to fight this alone. Are you hungry?”

Castiel lifts his head from his arms and blinks away tears. He looks at the takeout box on the bed and nods. “Yeah.” He picks up the box and opens it up. “Thanks.”

Dean nods and looks around the room. “Is it okay if I start cleaning?”

Castiel frowns. “You don’t have to do that. This place is a disaster. I can clean it when I feel better.”

“You can, but having a clean space may make you a little more comfortable now. I’m going to get garbage bags.” Dean leaves the bedroom and finds garbage bags in the cabinets under the kitchen sink. He grabs a few and returns to the bedroom to see Castiel slowly eating. “I really don’t mind cleaning, especially if it means helping you.” 

Castiel swallows his mouthful of food and watches Dean move around the room, picking up all of the trash. “I thought you hated cleaning. You throw a fit about washing your roommate’s dishes at your own place.”

“That’s because Ash just expects me to wash the dishes because I like the place to be clean. I’m happy to do this because I know you’re having a hard time and I know executive dysfunction is a bitch.” Dean stuffs all of the trash into the bag he’s holding as he moves around the room. 

Things start to look better as time passes. Dean picks up the takeout container and throws it away as well once Castiel is done. Castiel lays back down in bed and closes his eyes while Dean cleans. 

Dean moves on to laundry and starts picking up all of the dirty clothes. He fills the hamper and takes it to the washer, putting in a load. He sweeps the floor and wipes down all of the surfaces in the room. It only takes him about an hour to bring the room back to its usual state. 

“Alright, now on to you.” Dean smiles. 

Castiel opens his eyes and scrunches his brows. “Huh?”

“Let’s get in the shower. I’ll shower with you.”

Castiel frowns. “I don’t think I can, I’m sorry. I know it’s gross, I’m just too tired.”

Dean nods. “That’s okay. How about a bath? I’ll help you.”

Castiel sighs. “That’s kind of embarrassing.”

Dean puts a hand on Castiel’s shoulder. “I’m not judging you. I just want to help.”

Castiel looks away and stays quiet for a few seconds. “I guess I can try a shower.”

Dean smiles softly. “Do you want me to shower with you?”

Castiel nods as he sits up. “I probably won’t get it done otherwise.” He slides off the bed and stretches with a groan.

Dean walks to the side of the bed and pulls the sheets off. He takes the pillowcases off as well and tosses them into the hamper. “Your sheets are on the top shelf of the closet, right?”

Castiel watches and nods. “Yeah, thank you.” 

Dean puts a fresh pair of sheets on the bed and pulls the blankets back, making the bed. “There. Now, onto the shower.” He leads the way to Castiel’s bathroom and turns the shower on. 

Castiel closes the bathroom door and starts undressing. His movements are slow and he looks exhausted despite not moving all day. He sets his clothes on the bathroom counter and steps into the shower. 

Dean strips, folding his clothes and leaving them on the bathroom counter. He gets in the shower behind Castiel. He’s already showered today, so he’s really only there to help Castiel if he needs it. “You want help?”

Castiel shakes his head. “I’d like to keep a little dignity, but thank you.”

“You haven’t lost any dignity in my eyes.” Dean hands the body wash to Castiel and leans against the wall to watch him. 

Castiel’s movements are slow, but he gets the job done. He washes his hair twice to get rid of the greasy feeling and washes his face. He turns off the water once he’s done and grabs a towel. “Thank you for being moral support. I needed that.”

“Any time.” Dean steps out of the shower and grabs the other towel. He pats himself dry before redressing himself. 

Castiel wraps the towel around his waist and walks out of his bedroom. He searches his drawers and pulls out a large t-shirt and another pair of sweatpants to wear. It’s about all he has in terms of clean clothes. Once he’s dressed, he climbs back onto his bed and lays down. 

Dean finishes dressing and climbs into bed with Castiel. “Is this okay?” To his surprise, Castiel turns over and buries his face in his chest. Dean wraps his arms around him and kisses the top of his head. “I love you, okay? You don’t ever have to be embarrassed about this stuff. Until you feel better, I’m gonna drop by every day after class to check on you.”

Castiel holds Dean tightly. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Whenever you’re not like this we see each other nearly every day, so it’s no different than normal for me. Besides, I want to see you.”

“I’m not going to be much fun. All I’m really doing right now is sleeping and watching youtube.”

Dean shrugs. “I’m always down for that. Besides, a nap after class sounds nice. If you really don’t want me here, I’ll just poke my head in to make sure you’re okay and then leave.”

Castiel holds onto Dean’s shirt and nods a little. “I thought having someone around for this would really suck, but it’s actually nice.”

Dean runs his fingers through Castiel’s damp hair. “Have you been making it to class?”

Castiel nods. “I make it to my lectures, but I’ve fallen behind a little on my assignments. I can catch up and my professors are all aware of my situation.”

“What about your meds? When was the last time you took them?”

Castiel goes quiet for a few seconds. “Two weeks ago.”

Dean frowns. “What made you stop taking them?”

“They make my stomach hurt. I’d like to be able to process dairy and wheat products without feeling like I’m dying.”

Dean kisses the top of Castiel’s head. “You should take your meds. We’ve had this discussion before.” Castiel sighs. “I know. I just...I hate to have to take them. I don’t want to need them. They have a horrible name. Anti-psychotics. I hate that word, psychotic. It sounds so venomous. I don’t want to need pills for the rest of my life. Sometimes when I stop taking them I feel better. My head feels clearer and I don’t get any side effects anymore.”

“But when you take your meds, this doesn’t happen at this severity. Maybe you won’t need meds forever. Just think about right now. Right now, you need them. If you really hate the ones you’re on now, tell your doctor when you see them again.”

“Truthfully, the side effects really aren’t that bad. It’s more that I just don’t want to need medication. I keep going off it to try to prove to myself that I’m fine. I know I need to just stick with it.” Castiel wraps an arm around Dean. 

Dean nods. “Do you want reminders or would that get annoying?”

Castiel thinks for a moment. “Honestly it would probably get annoying. I could set an alarm on my phone to remind me to take them.”

“That sounds like a good idea.” Dean sits up a little and turns over. He opens the drawer on the bedside table and pulls out a couple pill bottles. “I’ll go get you some water.”

Castiel nods and sits up as Dean gets up. He opens the pill bottles and collects all his correct dosages in his palm. 

Dean returns with a glass of water and hands it to Castiel. “Here you go.”

Castiel takes all of his meds with water before laying back down. “I need to sleep.”

“Alright. I’ll take a nap with you.” Dean climbs back into bed and spoons Castiel from behind. He closes his eyes as he holds his boyfriend against his chest. “I love you.”

Castiel finds Dean’s hand and holds it tightly. “I love you too. Thank you for coming.”

“Anytime, baby.”

Dean and Castiel nap there for a couple hours before Dean wakes up. He lays there for another half hour, watching Castiel sleep. It was a bit of a role reversal. Castiel was usually the first to wake up whenever they slept together and he would always watch Dean sleep. Now that it’s Dean watching Castiel, he gets the appeal.

Castiel wakes up and rubs his eyes. He turns his head to look at Dean with a tiny smile on his face. He suggests that they watch Netflix on his laptop, so they prop themselves up to do just that. Dean takes out his own laptop to work on some schoolwork while they sit there. 

Dean makes dinner for both of them when the time comes, and he goes home afterwards. 

In the following days, Dean checks on Castiel every day. After his classes, he drives to Castiel’s apartment and spends a couple hours with him. Castiel’s mood seems to lift a little every time Dean comes over. His presence certainly doesn’t ‘fix’ Castiel, but it does help. 

~~~

Castiel starts to return to his usual mood after a week. With the help of his medication, he starts to feel more like himself. He actually leaves his bed for a reason other than class to finish up the laundry that Dean had been helping him with. He goes over to Dean’s apartment after class and thanks him again for being as supportive as he was. 

Knowing that someone is there to support him makes everything feel much easier. Castiel knows that his relationship isn’t going to fix all of his problems, but Dean feels like a partner to him. They build each other up and work alongside one another. It’s healthy in a way that Castiel has never experienced before now. Despite everything, Castiel can call himself happy. He knows that he isn’t alone now, and that makes the fight so much easier.

[willows-adventures-in-words]

I’m gonna try to get the rest of the chapters I’d written for this posted before the end of the year.

Life is Never what you Expect Chapter 9 Word Count: 2823

_______________________

As Jackie was getting himself ready to leave his thoughts went back to what Anti had said. Jack had wanted Anti to come here. Jackie was so unsure. Nothing felt right. Maybe he was paranoid and Anti was just a reclusive weirdo. Cause otherwise Jack would know. Right? And Jack would never put them in harms way like this. Not purposely. It's been three full days now; there was no sign of Anti hurting any of them... Nothing. Was... would that be normal? Three days without food. Humans can last... what was it? Two weeks? Jackie sighed and rested his hands on the bathroom counter as he leaned against it. Maybe... maybe he should find some common ground between them. Looking up at the mirror, blue eyes greeting him. Jackie let out a sigh and turned away. Shutting off the light, he left the room.

Marvin exited their laundry room. It wasn't that he didn't want Jameson to wash his dirty clothes. He actually didn't mind, since the two of them had done each others laundry countless times back when they were roommates in university. Marvin just didn't want him to be busy doing everyone's laundry if it could be avoided, since he knew he would. “Hey, you ready to go now?” Chase called over to him.

“Yeah, yeah, let me grab my keys.” Marvin listened to them joke around, taking a jab at Marvin, who shook his head with a smile. Finally, he started over to the door, where his friends were waiting, and couldn't help notice Jackie's eyes. It wasn't his business, or anyone else's for that matter, but sometimes he couldn't help think that it was a shame that Jackie didn't feel comfortable with how he looked. When he was here at home he was fine, but once he would leave the house he always hid his green eye behind a blue colored contact.

“You're finally leaving?”

Marvin looked over at Jameson. “What do you mean finally?”

Jameson gave a smile as Jackie spoke up. “Yep. You sure you don't wanna come?”

“Mm. Yes I-” There was a pause that didn't go unnoticed. “You guys are busy. Getting the housework done is the least I can do.”

“Sorry. I know we usually clean house on Sundays but-” Chase barely finished the word 'but' before Jameson motioned for him to stop.

“There's no need to apologize. I understand that this is important.”

Jackie rested a hand on Chase's shoulder. “Yeah, exactly. This is more important then housework. I'm gonna make sure you get to have your kids no matter what.” Chase glanced between the three of them. Marvin and Jameson both voiced their agreement and Chase nearly started crying on the spot.

“I couldn't have asked for better friends than you guys...” Chases voice cracked slightly by the end of his statement.

“Damn right,” Jackie stated as he pulled him into a hug.

“You don't have to do any of this alone. You've always got our support,” Marvin told him. Jackie reached out to him and, barely catching his shirt, tugged him over to join in for a group hug.

That's when they heard the sound of an old-fashioned camera. Pulling away they looked to the source of the sound to see Jameson holding up his phone. He smiled. “I apologize. It was such a candid photo opportunity.”

Chase laughed then rubbed at his eyes for a second. Taking a step back towards the door, he said, “You sure you don't wanna join us?” Jameson nodded and told him he was sure. “Send me that picture, alright?”

Jameson chuckled. “Will do.” He waved them off as the group of three headed out the door before looking down to his phone to do what he said he would. Afterwords, he finished cleaning up the living room before heading upstairs to get his clothes in order. When he was done tidying up his room, Jameson carried the clothes hamper out into the hall before he paused and glanced over to Anti's room. He set it down, then walked over.

The door was cracked open. Even so, Jameson knocked and waited for an answer. “...What?” the response sounded tired.

“I'm sorry. Did I wake you?” Jameson asked, his hand resting on the door frame.

“No.”

Jameson paused for just a moment before asking, “May I come in?” The other man gave an answer of indifference. He hesitated for just a moment, before slowly pushing open the others door. Anti was seated with his back against the armrest in the corner of the futon looking at his phone. He lifted his eyes to Jameson. “Is there anything you need washed? I will have space with mine if you don't mind if our clothes are washed together.”

Anti shifted his gaze to the hamper sitting next to the dresser. It was a cloth one that could be folded up and put away when not in use. Each of the rooms had one identical to it. Anti got up and stuffed his phone in his pocket. “I guess I don't care.” He picked up the pair of jeans, which were carelessly deposited on the floor, and dumped them in the hamper. Pulling it off of its stand he left the room with Jameson.

The curtains were open, Anti noticed as they got back downstairs. Barely any sun managed between the clouds so it didn't really bother Anti much. The two lingered in the laundry room and talked as they waited for Marvins clothes to finish in the washer. Jameson told their guest about some of the households usual routines. How Sundays was the day where most of what they did was pre-decided. If nothing else came up, they would get together for breakfast before cleaning house and, in the afternoon after dinner, they would all hang out in the living room and watch movies. “...That's why Marvin was the only one I saw cleaning?”

Amusement shone on Jameson's face. “He likes to keep his work space clean. I can guarantee you his room is not nearly as neat as the kitchen.” Jameson nearly missed the faint smile that touched Antis lips as amusement shone in his eyes. Though both were temporary and quickly hidden away.

“I bet he's happy I'm here then.”

“I'm sure. He can take a break with the work divided between the two of you.” There was a slight dip in their conversation. Anti opened his mouth to speak but stopped and instead muttered something about taking care of the dishes. Jameson, curious, watched him walk over to the sink before glancing over at the dial for the washer and concluded it wouldn't do to just wait for it to finish. So instead he stepped into the bathroom attached to the laundry room to start cleaning there.

Stupid. That's what he was. Why was he even thinking about asking for his phone number? Potential friends? It wasn't going to happen. It's pointless to make friends; especially with normal humans. He should have just stayed home. There was technically nothing Jack could have done to force him to come here. Just like there was nothing stopping him from leaving and going back home. He could just walk back at night. It wouldn't take that long. “You don't have a certain way you wash your clothes do you?”

Anti paused, his train of thoughts stopping as he looked back. Jameson was emptying the washing machine. “...No.” The man looked back at him. Anti shook his head. “It doesn't matter.” He turned back to the dishes. “Wash it however you want.” It wasn't long before he heard both the washer and dryer running. Anti worked quickly to finish the dishes.

“...Shit,” he muttered when he realized he finished in less than half the amount of time it should have taken. Grabbing half of the clean dishes he dropped them back into the soapy water. Anti sighed, frustrated with himself. He was getting complacent around Jameson. That wasn't something he could afford to do around people who didn't know. Who he didn't want to know. He leaned over the sink exhausted. All he wanted was peace and quiet. Especially right now...

“Anti?” He blinked a few times before he turned around. Jameson set the window cleaner down on the counter-top. “Are you alright?”

Anti turned away and for a moment didn't answer. Since the answer wasn't something he wanted to discuss. Finally he told him, “I'm just tired,” as he turned back to the dishes.

Jameson was quiet as Anti got back to work. Though his silence didn't last long. He stepped up next to him and lightly touched his arm to get his attention. “Maybe you should rest. I can finish these.”

“I don't want to sleep,” he told him knowing well enough what he meant.

“...May I ask why?” Antis silence was enough of an answer. He hesitated, wondering if there was something he could do without being intrusive. “Do you want to be alone?” Jameson asked him, almost cautiously.

Anti opened his mouth to respond but stopped. He stopped his work as well. After a silence not quite uncomfortable, he said quietly, “I don't know...” Without another word on the matter Jameson picked up the dish towel and proceeded to help with the rest of the dishes.

During the next few hours, Jameson stayed close by Anti as they worked through the rest of the house. Other then the music he put on, Jameson offered small talk. From the responses Anti gave him, he learned a few things. It seemed his initial impression of him was pretty accurate. Being alone a lot and not caring for crowded places. And from how he seemed earlier, Jameson suspected that something must have happened in his past. Something that still hung heavily over him. That made him want to isolate himself. But it also seemed like he was trying to get past some of that. Or just having a couple people around was helping him out of that. Either way Jameson hoped that he would decide to join them in the evening for their weekly get-together.

By the time the others came back Anti was sitting on the corner of the couch wearing headphones playing the Last of Us. Jameson was seated on the two seater, closest to where Anti was, with a book. Looking back, Jameson asked, “How did it go?” Chase eagerly told him about one of the apartments they went to. Jackie glanced over at Anti before leaving to the bathroom. Marvin took off his shoes and lingered joining in the conversation.

Anti had sent a slight glance their way but otherwise was quiet, pretending not to hear them. It was difficult for him to sit there when all he wanted was to leave the room. He'd saved his game not even a half hour ago so he wouldn't be repeating much if he quit. “I agree that the first one was nice but you need to keep in mind how much it would be,” Marvin spoke up.

“I mean, yeah, it's a little more expensive but it has more space for my kids. And you remember what the lady there said about...” Chase trailed off as Anti took off his headphones and got up. Dropping the headphones and controller onto the couch, Anti ignored the stares as he headed for the stairs.

Jackie stepped out of the hallway just in time to see Anti heading upstairs. He glanced after him for a second before looking back to the others. Opening his mouth to speak, he hesitated for a second before asking, “Did, something happen?”

Chase let out a sigh. “No. He's just avoiding me,” he muttered. Jameson looked back to Chase for a moment before turning his attention to Marvin.

“Marvin.” Marvin, relieved with the break in the awkward tension, turned to Jameson. “I've taken care of your laundry and dropped it off in your room.”

“Let me guess, it's neatly folded on my bed.”

With a hint of a smile Jameson told him, “It might be.”

“And they call me the house-wife.” Chase snorted and tried to refrain from laughing at Marvins response.

Jackie, however, didn't try as hard to hide his amusement. “That's because you do the most housework.”

Marvin turned to Jackie. “I have to if we ever want clean dishes.”

“You really don't though.”

“Yeah,” Chase said jumping into the conversation. “You only let me take care of them a few times since I've been here.”

Sending a glance between them, Marvin stated, “In case you forgot, it's my job to take care of the kitchen.”

“I thought it was your job to do the cooking?” Jackie asked.

“Yes, the cooking,” Jameson stated. “Marvin, I do understand, but try to keep in mind that you do not need to tend to everything in the kitchen. Let us help from time-to-time.”

“I just...” his voice drifted off as he swallowed and turned his attention anywhere other than them. Marvin gripped the hem of his shirt as he spoke again, though in a quieter voice than before. “I just, want to feel like I'm useful...”

Jackie stepped over and lightly rested a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, I didn't mean...”

Marvin shook his head and looked up. “It's okay. I'm fine. I just- I'm gonna-” He just motioned aimlessly towards the kitchen before stepping out of Jackie's touch and ducked out of the room. Jackie opened his mouth to object only to turn to Jameson and Chase silently asking for help.

Jameson had already gotten to his feet by the time Jackie had looked over. He hesitated, at first unsure, before he gave Jackie a reassuring smile before following Marvin. The man knew his friend has self-esteem problems but hadn't been aware it was so bad. It wasn't something either of them went out of their way to discuss. Marvin stood aimlessly looking for something to do when Jameson approached him. “...Marvin?”

“I'm fine, really. I just-”

“I'm sorry.”

Marvin looked at him fully. Part of him wanted to laugh. Wanted to force one out and tell him that there was no reason he had to apologize. Tell him it was fine and he didn't mean how it sounded. He couldn't quiet manage the laugh. “Why are you apologizing? I was just... I didn't mean to make things weird.” His voice drifted a bit at the end as he shifted his gaze away from his friend.

“...I didn't mean to make you upset.” Marvin opened his mouth to speak but refrained himself when Jameson held up a hand to stop him. “I do understand Marvin. I know saying it is not true does not help. We did not mean ill of you. We were teasing and just wish to help so you can rest from time-to-time.”

“... I know.”

Stepping the extra couple steps over, Jameson rested a hand on his arm. Marvin looked up at him. “I think you are doing a fantastic job. And I'm not the only one who thinks so.” Marvin's lips twitched and a hint of a smile touched his lips for a second. Jameson silently offered a hug which Marvin accepted.

They were quiet for a minute before Marvin took a deep breath. He swallowed after then pulled back. “Um... I'm gonna get started on some of the prep for dinner.”

Jameson nodded then told him, “Let us know if you need some help.” Marvin offered a smile before Jameson turned and left him to his work.

Though it didn't take long before Chase entered the kitchen. Chase hesitated for a moment then asked, “Hey, uh, Marvin?” Marvin's motions faltered. “Sorry, I can ask later if your busy.”

Marvin turned to face him. “No, it's fine,” he told him, not really wanting to admit that Chase startled him. “What's up?”

“Well... could you, teach me how to cook?” Marvin blinked, confusion and surprise clearly showing. “I mean, I know how to cook. But just the easy stuff. And I can't just make my kids mac and cheese everyday.”

His expression softened and he smiled as he told Chase, “I'm sure they'd like that though.”

Chase chuckled. “Yeah, I don't doubt it.”

Marvin hesitated, wondering if he was good enough to teach someone else. “...You want to help me with dinner tonight?” Chases expression lit up and, really, that was all the answer Marvin needed.

[saundraswriting]

Need Some TLC Chapter 5: Groceries

SUMMARY: Steve and Bucky decide to step in for your health and a third conspirator joins the ranks

WARNINGS:None

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You stood looking at your front door for a moment or two before smiling and shaking you head. Glancing around, you noticed that your kitchen was clean, but the living room needed tidying up and the bathroom, your bedroom and laundry needed finished. "No time like the present." You muttered to yourself, deciding the living room would be a good start and quickest, you got to work. You straightened the throw blankets and small pillows and cushions. the knick-knacks were organized and DVD's were put away, in their proper cases. you bagged up all the trash and recycling and moved on to the next room.

Laundry was started once more, the bathroom scrubbed and you changed your sheets in your room. You cleaned up the dirty clothes in your room, both you not scrub hamper and scrub hamper, and gathered the old dishes and long-dismissed wrappers and protein shake bottles. You put away all the laundry in your clean laundry basket and dusted your hands off. "Done! That's it!" You cheered to yourself. You transferred laundry once more and got a few things ready for work and meals for the next few days. The clock read 8:00 PM. You had near 20 hours until you had to go back to work again, and your apartment was clean and safe and welcoming again, not the pigsty it was hours ago.

'Watch a movie? or Settle in early?' You thought to yourself. As you looked between your TV and bedroom door a buzz in your pocket distracted you.

'You still up for a pizza and a documentary? We don't want to impose.'  The text was sent by a known contact with the name "Bucky". You changed it to Sgt. Barnes. You thought about it and after everything that had happened today, the walls that had come down and the fire and finally being off, you realized you wanted company. 'Yeah, I can go to bed once we are done. Won't be too much later than usual.' You thought.

'Yeah. Come on over! Both of you, you have a key.' You texted him back.

"I nor Steve would abuse this privilege. We won't use our keys willy-nilly."Sargent Barnes replied.

'I only meant that you could let yourselves in. I know you won't abuse it. Jeez, didn't mean to offend your delicate sensibilities.' You send your message with a few smiles to not offend.

'I will be no more offended than you when I tell you that we already have pizza and am currently trying to get into your apartment.'  He replied.

 'Confident?'  you texted back.

"Yeah, a little. Can we watch and ocean documentary? With Attenborough? Please?" Sargent Barnes asked pushing his way through the door, keys slipping into his pocket.

"Yeah, I have a Blue Planet on Blu-Ray and with my TV it is almost like being there. Where did you learn to text? Not to bad Sargent." You sassed at him grabbing plates and cups on the counter, Sargent Barnes brought over the pizza while Captain Rogers looked for Blue Planet in your expansive collection.

I love this documentary. I just turned it on this morning when I got home to listen to, but I fell asleep too quick. Also after dinner cause it late-ish and I want to get a good night's rest, I am going to take my sleep aides. Just some melatonin. I want to be ready for my next stretch." You told the men in your living room. Captain Rogers and Sargent Barnes looked at you, brows furrowed and lips pursed.

"More meds? Is that a good idea?" Captain Rogers paused loading the first disc.

"Melatonin is naturally produced, I am only boosting my supply a little bit. The Advil will help with the sore legs and back I am sure to get. I want to relax cause I have some aide shifts coming up. I always hurt more after aide shifts." The three of you settled with your pizza and drinks.

"Aide work? What is that?" Sargent Barnes asked.

"Yeah, I am a registered nurse. But my job includes helping the aides-or rather patient care techs as they are called now-but sometimes there are not enough aides scheduled for a shift, usually the evening shift, and I will fill in. Aides or PCT's help with the activities of daily living, toileting and dressing and rehab and bandage changing and the like. I personally like doing both jobs cause it makes me appreciate what they do more and help connect with my patients on a deeper level." You explained. Not many nurses shared you opinion, thinking aides and PCT's were below them, they didn't realize that many programs and curriculums required clinical hours before and during the programs to be accepted. Most aides and PCT's were nurses-in-training.

"Oh. So with the short-staffing you really have to do everything huh? That is insane." Captain Rogers' awe was heard in his tone.

"Nope, When I go in for a nursing shift, I have 26 Patients and my 2-5 aides can have 13-15 patients. Also it builds up aide/nurse loyalty and report. You all know what each others knows and needs to keep track off and become a better team for it, give better care for it. It makes me better and them better." You were firm in your opinion, eyes lit with a determination and fire the men did not often see. They could tell this is a fight you have fought before.

"Does not everyone agree with you? That all makes prefect sense to me and Steve. Why would people not agree?" Bucky asked, hesitant.

"NO! They don't. I have too many aides and nurses come through my unit with this...this...chip on their shoulder. Like they are owed something for picking this job. We all work shitty hours and weekends and holidays. We all miss birthdays and parties and recitals. No one is missed for that, especially in healthcare. I don't get how you can go through schooling and testing and lectures and labs and still come out of this expecting something that you won't get. How can you start this career without knowing what you are getting into? Or staying in this field knowing what it is? You are to help people, They don't want to be here any more than you do. I'm sorry, we get paid well but not that well that the money can overcome the cancelled dates and missed appointments." You were ranting wildly, hands waving and hair flying. Bucky and Steve were in total agreement. They did share a look of confusion and empathy, they were unware of your temper that was hidden under all the pleasantness. You noticed and calmed down significantly. "I'm sorry, that was uncalled for. I was ranting. You can start the show. if you need anything, help yourself." You shimmied down deeper into the couch, eyes blinking blearily at the TV.

"No! it is fine. I like seeing you open up to us. You are in the right. We get it too, not like we have great hours either." Captain Rogers said. You blinked at him and smiled. "If you fall asleep we'll close up for you. Okay?" He said it like a question but you knew it was a statement. The men turned their focus to the documentary and knew that for now, you had lost their attention.

You only paid half attention to the program. The warmth of your blanket and apartment, the relief in having it clean and the silent company of people in a shared space lulled you quickly to a fugue state. Partially formed thoughts swept across your mind but disappeared before they fully formed. Thoughts about your schedule and patients; should you make more meals? The fear of a missed alarm pulled you to awareness enough to check you phone.

Minutes passed. The episode ended. Another one started. You still stare unseeingly into the TV, blinks and breaths slowing and lengthening. The calm narration and soft spoken comments from your friends easing your muscles even more.

You fall asleep between one breath and the next, succumbing to you body's demands with one last thought about packing a lunch for tomorrow.

"Bucky looked over to see you curled up on the couch, quiet and still-pardon your rhythmic breathing. "She's asleep. Finally. I am going to put her to bed in a little bit. She needs to sleep. I looked in her fridge, she didn't have much. What little bit she had, she probably meal-prepped it. She neglects herself too much." Bucky said. He was so worried, over the time of knowing them they'd seen your weight drop and skin pale.

"I don't know. We could order some groceries. Have them delivered using Tony's service? I can handle him afterwards. You can cook like a pro, we can freeze it and meal prep for her." Steve suggested. He saw Bucky's hesitance. He shook his head and sighed. "Buck. Please do it. I know for certain she wants someone who will take care of her, and you want someone to take care of. She has been alone too long. You can change that. I will handle Tony. I told you earlier, do something, do anything. This is both." Steve continued.

Bucky smirked knowingly. "You'll handle Tony alright. You tell me to move but you freeze every time he comes near you." Bucky lost his smirk. "I guess this is something I can do for her." Bucky picked up his phone and put a call into the grocery service that stocked the Avengers' Tower and Compound and their private places. They took calls at all times to accommodate their unusual clients. He ordered tons of meats and veggies, pasta, dairy products, deli things, and junk foods too. He ordered and ordered and ordered. He wanted enough to make enough food for three meals and two snacks for two weeks. He also ordered plastic containers for all the meals and freezer. He billed Tony and gave the address for Your apartment.

"They said in an hour, they pulled everyone together that was available to make it happen so quickly. I am going to put her to bed that way she doesn't wake up. Then we are going to make her food. and a lot of it. Hopefully it will last for two weeks if not it should be a good start." Bucky addressed Steve but was looking at you. Eyes lightly brushed over your figure worried his gaze would wake you.

"Very well. Let's finish what we started. Go, take your girl to bed." Steve waved his hand in the direction of your room, seeing Buck blush out off the corner of his eye.

Bucky didn't-couldn't-answer to busy trying gently to pick you up and carry you to bed. He maneuvered the corners careful to not bump your head or feet. You didn't even twitch as he laid you on your bed under the covers, glad you already seemed to be in pajamas.

Upon returning to the living room Bucky saw Steve hunched over his phone shoulders tense and cheeks pink. Bucky rolled his eyes in silence, for all his advice Steve was just as nervous when it came to one Anthony Edward Stark-Iron Man. "Make a move, punk. Any move. Isn't that what you told me?" Bucky commented from the other end of the couch. Steve refused to give Bucky the satisfaction of seeing him flinch.

"I always give good advice, but very seldom follow it. I can't make a move on Tony. That is ridiculous. I will admire from afar, that's all I am allowed this time. Besides Tony isn't impressed by me in any sense." Steve was matter-of-fact in his words, a weariness hung around his shoulders.

"Then you are dumber than advertised. Tony is in love with you as you are in love with him. Just do something." With that Bucky left Steve to stew and played the documentary once more. Bucky watched and Steve split his attention between the TV and his phone for the next 45 minutes.

When a light knock sounded on the newly replaced door, Bucky and Steve went on alert. They silently paced to the door, avoided casting a shadow underneath. Bucky pulled a knife from his boot and Steve shook his hands before clenching them into fists. Anyone who wanted to get through to you would have to go through them.

"Delivery for Stark? Grocery delivery." Bucky looked at Steve and shrugged. They could take anyone. Bucky opened the door for the three men that had dollies full of groceries. And Tony Stark.

"Tony? What are you doing here?" Bucky asked while he and Steve moved to help unload the bags. After the dollies were emptied twice each then men bid their goodbyes and left.

"Well you did just bill me almost 500 dollars worth of groceries not 3 days after your last order. Steve told me it was for a friend, and I became intrigued." Tony spoke to Bucky but his eye kept flicking to Steve every other word.

"Her name is Y/N. She is a nurse. Lately she has been putting in too many hours. She is...amazing. She checks in and bakes for us sometimes. She constantly is working on bringing us up to date." Steve said, soft and fond. "We spend a lot of time with her when we are home. She understands what we do and likes us in spite of that. She is family." Tony froze upon hearing Steve talk about you so warmly. The fondness he had for you froze Tony's breath in his chest. He saw the ease in which Bucky and Steve moved through your apartment, Tony almost flinched but withheld. Bucky saw the hopelessness on his face and stepped closer.

"Tony. No. Please." Bucky murmured in his ear. Speaking louder he continued. "Y/N came home today and we hear her talking through the wall about sleep aides and next thing we know the fire alarm is going off and we had to break down her door cause she was sleeping through it. After fixing it and making lunch and her napping, I was griping at Steve who was teasing me, so I ordered this to help her. I wanted to take care of her, cause she doesn't take care of herself." Bucky had seen the thoughts forming in Tony's mind that you were Steve's girl leaving no room for Tony in Steve's heart. Bucky knew those thoughts had to be derailed instantly.

"Yeah, she is our only non-Avenger friend. She is alone and needed someone in her life. Today proved that. I am just glad we were home. I worry about her day and night. She works too much and to the point of illness. I gave her a key today so she had a place to go since she denied having F.R.I.D.A.Y. installed in here. It was the only way she would accept help, she refuses to burden others with her needs." Bucky continued. He could tell as Tony's shoulder relaxed and smiled softened he was successful in his mission.

Steve and Bucky moved about this stranger's apartment like they lived there themselves. Steve was putting groceries away as Bucky began to trim chicken to be frozen. It was strange, seeing these two giant men creep around your things to not disturb you, trying to do what they could to help what little family they had. "Steve can you grab the skillet? and grill pan? I will cook up some burgers and chicken and freeze them to be quicker meals." Bucky asked.

"Here and here. I am working on scalloped potatoes, they should freeze well. I will work on some salad mixes too. We can vacuum seal them to keep longer." Steve said, handing over the pans while looking for the peeler. Tony felt out of the loop but wanted to help this person who had helped his people.

"Does she have a steamer? I can help with steaming some veggies. We can make and freeze whole meals." Tony offered. Bucky looked up and smiled, thankfulness shining in his eyes. Bucky nodded and jerked his chin to a pantry. Tony went and set it up and began cleaning fruit and veggies. "I can make some fruit salad, won't keep well but I can make a small batch. We would look at high protein meals with low carbs and sugar. She is a nurse? She needed long term energy. We can freeze some fruit like pineapple and blueberries and grapes. They taste good frozen. she can snack on them too." Tony suggested. Bucky nodded emphatically. "You are right, Tony, snack are a great idea." Bucky's tension seemed to lessen with Tony's participation.

Tony picked up his phone and made a quick call, putting it down quickly. "I just called in another rush order. If we are going to do this, then we will do this right." Tony started working on cauliflower and broccoli.

"Tony, no. This isn't necessa-" Bucky started. Tony cut him off before he could finish "If she is your family, she is mine. I am more than glad to help." Bucky other took a quick breath and sent a small smile Tony's way. "Quick, we need to keep moving. I want this done before she wakes up." Bucky said.

The three men did just that. Bucky cooked chicken, burger, steak, pork, sausage. He froze it raw and froze it cooked. Bucky dated and labeled everything, even using up what little was in your freezer already. Steve made several casseroles to be frozen and labeled. Tony made his veggies and fruits and snacks and divided them up for easy access. He did freeze some bags with directions for smoothies, for the days when food would be too much effort.  They also kept some food in the fridge for easy grab and go for the next five days, hopefully they made enough food for her.

"Thank you both. I am glad she will wake up to see that this was done for her. She may just come to understand that she is cared for. Let's clean up and then we can hit the hay." He clapped Steve on his back and pulled Tony in for a hug. "Thank you especially Tony. For everything. Oh, and, remember he has loved and lost one already." Bucky pulled away, nothing on his face giving away what he had shared. Bucky looked around and saw your lunchbox and packed a well-balanced lunch and then some before scrawling a quick note and putting it on the fridge. 'We did as you asked and made ourselves at home. Steve, Tony and I took care of lunches for you and groceries. Everything is dated and labeled. If you have questions, call me. See you soon. ~xo Bucky.'

He then helped clean up their mess and shooed Steve and Tony out the door. Bucky made one last lap to ensure everything was off, cleaned and put away. He walked down towards your room and paused, fingers brushing the doorknob. "Go in, chicken." Bucky demanded himself. He crept in and watched you sleep for a small moment. Gathering his courage, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek and again on your forehead. "Good night, my darling. Rest well." He whispered against your skin. He left your room. He left your apartment. He used his key to double check the lock.

Bucky headed to his room and laid down, ignoring Tony and Steve's smug looks. Bucky listened to you faint breathing as he relaxed. Minutes later he was asleep.

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******************************************************************************************* Okay! That is the last update I have ready. Now, I actually have to type everything out. This is going to be fun! I have a Criminal Minds fic that I also have to post on here but should I have it typed out? It is awfully long...I will ruminate on this. Thanks for the support!

[milomeepit]

Diamond In The Rough: Chapter Six

Roman has always wanted better. Has always believed that there’s a better life, a better world, just out of reach. Just beyond the veil of shitty teachers who don’t care, angry classmates that scream insults and slurs at each other all day, and drug-hazed parents who are more concerned with their next hit than looking after their ten year old son.

When he runs away after a particularly bad night at home and finds a quiet little cafe/bookstore tucked away in a back alley of the city, the sweet couple who run the joint (an odd pair; a quiet, gloomy man with a wry sense of humour and a cynical gleam in his eye, and a bouncy man who smiles like sunshine and laughs like a storybook king) help show him that maybe- just maybe- he really can have the life he always dreamed of.

Masterpost (to be added soon!)

Word Count: 2786

Chapter Warnings: probably terribly translated Spanish and I’m Incredibly Sorry, insanely sappy couple, anxious child continues to be anxious, hygiene issues, food mention

It didn’t take long to finish closing up the cafe, and they were soon on their way home. Virgil was glad he’d already cleared out the backseat of Patton’s old blue sedan for the next lot of groceries, as it gave Roman space to sit without being crowded by bags and boxes of books. Roman, meanwhile, peered out the window curiously as they drove along, watching the trees and buildings lit up by the headlights of the car before they slipped past and disappeared into the darkness of the night.

Patton pulled into their apartment block’s parking lot, and was around to Roman’s door before Virgil could even unbuckle his seatbelt. He chuckled as his husband scooped up the small boy into another quick hug before setting him down and grabbing the box of leftover baked goods from the other seat.

Virgil led Roman across to the front door and upstairs, making sure to keep an eye on him in case he stumbled on the slightly uneven steps. Roman bounded up them effortlessly, though, his backpack bouncing against his shoulders as he scaled the staircase. Patton followed close behind them, carefully balancing the wide, thin box of pastries and biscuits, humming cheerfully.

Virgil... really wished he’d had a camera right then. When he unlocked and opened the front door, stepping back to let Roman enter first, he’d frozen at first. He took a couple of small steps over the threshold, eyes as wide as dinner plates as he looked around the living room.

Aesthetically speaking, it was very much a reflection of everything that they’d put into the cafe. Fairy lights were hung carefully around the edges of the room, and as Virgil reached across to the power point near the door, they flickered on; a warm, soft glow around the cozy space. The couches here did match, but the patches covering old repairs were a variety of colours and patterns- floral and rainbow and zigzag and galaxies peeking between the pale blue.

Roman looked over his shoulder. “This is your house?” He whispered, voice laced with excited disbelief.

“Sure is. Go on,” Virgil urged, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Have a look around, explore the apartment.”

“Mi casa es su casa!” Patton beamed, setting the box on a table near the door. “Come on, Ro, I’ll show you ar-”

“¿Tu hablas español?” Roman interrupted, snapping to look at Patton, mouth hanging open in surprise.

“¡Por supuesto! Mi mamá es cubana,” Patton clapped his hands together, clearly delighted.

Virgil couldn’t follow most of the rapid stream of Spanish that Roman babbled out, but between the adoring expression on his face as he gushed to Patton, and Patton’s sparkling eyes, he could tell that the two were bonding over their shared language. He knew bits and pieces; growing up with Patton, he’d picked up words and phrases- mostly curse words and sappy declarations of love- but it warmed his heart to see Patton so excited as they spoke.

“Patton, hon, should we finish showing Roman around?” Virgil smiled, reaching over to prod him gently in the arm.

“Oh! Oh, of course. Sorry, I guess we got a little distracted,” Patton giggled. “How about you show Ro around, and I’ll sort out some clean clothes for him? I think we still have some spare stuff from when your cousin and her kids stayed over.”

Virgil nodded. “Sure thing. Hey, kid, how’s it sound if I run you a bath and we get you some clean PJs?” He suggested, turning to face Roman again.

Roman paused for a moment, clinging to his worn red jacket, before nodding. “Um... yes, please,” He said softly as he slipped off his backpack and set it down by the front door, toeing off his shoes as he did so.

Virgil tousled his hair again before making his way into the bathroom, Roman trotting along behind him. He sat on the closed lid of the toilet as Virgil started running the bath, his legs swinging back and forth, his small socked feet drumming against the porcelain base.

“You can drop your dirty clothes over there when you hop in,” Virgil gestured towards the half-full launder hamper that hung from a hook on the wall. “Patton or I will wash ‘em and have ‘em back for you in the morning, alright?”

“Thank you,” Roman nodded, his eyes fixed on the basket.

Virgil watched him for a few seconds, as he added a dash of bubble bath liquid, a little thrown off by how still he was. This was the same kid who spent an hour and a half squealing with Patton about princes, right? The same kid who’d snapped right to teasing Virgil back when he’d poked playfully at how much he sang? “Hey, are you okay?” He asked. “You look like a helium balloon someone poked a hole in.”

Roman blinked, turning his head to meet his gaze. “Wh... why helium?”

“Because you’re squeaky, bouncy, and I’ve never seen anything bring you down,” Virgil reached over, tipping up his chin lightly. “What’s on your mind, short stack?”

“Oh. Nothing, I’m okay,” Roman shook his head.

Virgil raised an eyebrow wordlessly.

“No, for real this time!” He insisted, crossing his arms and sticking out his chin. “I just don’t wanna make a mess or anything. Especially since you have a nice house and stuff, I don’t want to ruin it... I guess.” He sagged a little as he spoke, the proud indignance melting into uncertainty.

“Kiddo, trust me, you don’t have to worry about that. We’re hardly super neat freaks, so you can chill. Even if anyone makes a mess- you, me, or Patton- we’ll just work together and tidy up. That’s what me and Pat’ve always done.”

Roman’s face twitched with an emotion Virgil didn’t quite recognize before he nodded again. “... Okay.” He hopped off the toilet, peering at the bathtub. “It’s kinda full, isn’t it gonna spill?”

Virgil gave a start, snapping around to lunge for the tap handles before it overflowed. “Gah-!” He twisted them around quickly to shut off the flow of water. “My bad. Nice save, kid,” He wheezed. “Patton would’ve kicked my butt if I flooded the bathroom again.”

“Again?” Roman’s eyes widened.

“No time for questions, you got a tub of steamy goodness to tend to.” Virgil clapped him lightly on the shoulder. “We’ll be just out in the living room, give a yell if you need anything, okay?”

Roman nodded once more. “Alright. Thanks.”

Virgil left the bathroom, shut the door behind him, then walked over to flop onto the couch. “Goblin prince is in the tub,” He announced as Patton appeared out of their bedroom, a bundle of clothing in his arms.

Patton swatted his shoulder. “Oh, knock it off!” He chided. “You adore him, I know you do.”

“I love nothing and nobody,” Virgil droned, slouching further into the couch cushions. “My heart is as cold as ice, hard as granite, untouched by anything on this mortal plane.”

Patton giggled, then leaned down to kiss his cheek. “Mm-hm. My big, strong, tough, badass man,” He teased.

“I said mortal plane. Angels like you don’t count, babe,” Virgil retorted, pulling Patton into his lap and dotting kisses across his face. He was rewarded with more peals of laughter, and couldn’t help the wide grin that appeared on his own face at the delightful sound.

“Hey, hey, easy!” Patton squeaked, his face flushed red as he giggled, squirming slightly in Virgil’s grip. “I’m gonna get hiccups if I laugh too hard!”

Virgil pulled him close, burying his face in Patton’s soft messy curls. “You’re adorable,” He hummed happily.

“And you’re a cutie pie,” Patton murmured, nuzzling close to his neck. “I love you, so much.”

“Really? How much?” Virgil’s voice took on a teasing lilt as he spoke.

“More than all the stars shine in the sky,” Patton answered immediately.

“Well, I love you more than the soft glow of an almost-full moon,” Virgil responded.

“I love you more than tiny hermit crabs in big, big shells.”

Virgil smiled at the mental image. “I love you more than copper windchimes.”

“I love you more than antique stores full of old tea sets.”

“I love you more than just-bloomed heather swaying in a summer breeze.”

Patton shivered a little, and Virgil laughed. “That’s practically cheating,” He mumbled.

“Does that mean you give up?”

“Never.” Patton shook his head, his curls brushing against Virgil’s face. “I love you more than smooth, pretty calligraphy done with real ink.”

“I love you more than fresh coffee with creamy milk and sugar.”

Patton was quiet for a moment as he thought. “I love you more than...” His eyes lit up. “I love you more than the yellowed pages of an old family recipe book!”

Virgil hissed through his teeth. “Alright, alright, you win this round, jelly bean,” He conceded.

Patton beamed, and his bright-as-sunshine smile sent a happy thrill through Virgil. "Yes!" He squealed happily.

“Um, excuse me?” Virgil twisted around to see Roman peeking out from the hallway, a towel clumsily wrapped around himself. “Um... sorry, but... um... can I have some help washing my hair?” He asked shyly, half-hiding behind the corner of the wall.

“Of course you can, sweetheart!” Patton cooed, bouncing to his feet. He pecked Virgil on the cheek before trotting over and offering a hand to Roman. “Let’s get those lovely locks soft and shiny, hm?”

Roman took his hand and giggled. “Thank you,” He said sweetly as he swung their joined hands.

“¡Eres muy bienvenido!” Patton tousled his slightly damp hair as he led Roman back into the bathroom. “Oooh, bubbles!”

Virgil grinned to himself. Patton sounded almost more excited about the bubbles than Roman seemed to be. It was little things like that that made Patton such a bright person to be around. His warm smile. His adorable, bubbly laugh. His kindness. The way he loved fiercely with all his heart. The way he loved people and pets and clouds and flowers and foods and smells and blankets and life.

While Virgil hated to sound like some cheesy romance movie cliche, Patton took his breath away, and he fell a little more in love with him every day.

“Hooooooon?” Patton called from the bathroom, breaking Virgil from his thoughts.

“Yeeeeaaaah?” Virgil pushed himself to his feet, already heading towards them as he responded. “What’s up?”

“Um... the shampoo bottle’s empty, and the new bottle is up on the top shelf, and...” Patton waved helplessly, stretched up on his tiptoes. His fingers just grazed the bottom of the shelf, a good couple of inches short of reaching the green bottle.

Virgil shook his head fondly. “Yeah, don’t worry, I got it,” He replied. He walked over to where Patton stood, easily grabbed the bottle, and handed it to the shorter man. “That all you guys need?”

Roman popped up from a pile of bubbles, his hair wet and his face flushed from the warmth of the water. “Virgil! Look!” He exclaimed as he scooped up a handful of bubbles, then blew on them, making the foam float around the room like snowflakes.

“Anybody would think you haven’t had a bubble bath before, kiddo,” Virgil leaned over to scoop up a palm full of bubbles and deposit them on top of Roman’s head.

“I haven’t!” Roman responded, practically vibrating as he scooped more bubbles up, squishing them between his hands. “This is so fun! And they’re so light and fluffy and soft! And they smell nice!”

Virgil felt Patton melt, without even looking in his direction. “Well, it’s an honour to be part of your first ever bubble bath experience, then, bud,” He nodded as he leaned back against the counter.

Roman giggled again. “Virgil es muy agradable, ¿verdad?” He asked Patton.

“El realmente es. Por eso me casé con él, después de todo.” Patton replied as he bobbed down next to the bathtub and started to lather up Roman’s hair.

“Hey, I may not know Spanish, but I know my name when I hear it,” Virgil complained, poking Patton gently with his toe. “What are you slandering my name with now?”

“All good things, all good things!” Patton assured him, then sent Roman a very obvious conspiratorial wink.

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Sure, sure. That’s what you said when you ripped Chloe Casiano to shreds in sophomore year.”

“She started it,” Patton shook his head as he scrubbed shampoo into Roman’s hair. He wrinkled his nose as his hands came away grey. “Gosh, Ro, hon, has it been a while since your hair’s been washed?”

“Um... I haven’t been able to have a proper shower in a while,” Roman answered, shrinking in on himself a little. “And Mom and Dad don’t really help me wash my hair, and I don’t like doing it because I always get soap in my eyes, and it stings a lot, and, um... yeah.”

“Aw, that’s okay, sweetheart, it’s not your fault!” Patton hummed. “Me and Virge will help you, and we can help you learn how to do it and not get it in your eyes. Sound good?”

“Mm-hm!”

“Perfect! Now, just tip your head back for me, sweetpea, and I’ll rinse your hair a bit and we’ll see how it looks, hm?”

Roman leaned his head back, and Patton scooped up water in the plastic cup that sat by the tap, then gently tipped it over his hair to rinse away some of the soap and grit and dirt. It looked so much lighter after that, and Virgil smiled.

“What, is your hair blonde under all that muck?” He joked, easing himself down to sit on the floor next to Patton.

“Uh-huh!” Roman chirped.

“Wait,” Virgil blinked, taken off guard. “Really?”

Sure enough, as Patton washed, rinsed, and then dried his hair, a poofy mess of curly blonde hair was revealed. Patton squealed as he ran his fingers through it, rambling excitedly. “Dios mío, eres tan lindo! ¡Nunca me hubiera imaginado que tu cabello fuera tan rizado!”

Roman blushed and shook his head stubbornly. “¡No soy lindo!” He argued.

“Muy lindo,” Virgil drawled. “Very, very cute and tiny. The smallest. A total shorty.”

“Pattoooon!” Roman whined, clinging to Patton’s sleeve. “I’m not that short, am I?”

“Well... I’m sure you’ll grow! You’re probably gonna end up taller than me, so!” Patton ruffled his hair lightly.

Roman groaned, sagging against him. “I'm nooooot!" He whined.

Patton giggled and wrapped his arms around him, pressing a kiss into his hair. "Aw, it's not so bad! Being small can be great! You can fit into small spaces, and you don't hit your head on low ceilings, and you can get piggybacks, and... there's a lot of really neat stuff!"

"Yeah, yeah," Roman grumbled half-heartedly, turning in Patton's arms and burying his face against his shirt.

Virgil grinned as he got to his feet and stretched. "Mm... you guys hungry? I think we have some pasta bake in the fridge still," He suggested.

"Sounds perfect, mi alma!" Patton beamed. "I'll go set the table while Ro gets dressed, then we can have some dinner!"

Roman nodded enthusiastically, pulling the towel tighter around himself. "Yes, please!"

Virgil gave them a thumbs up, then slipped out of the room. He made his way into the kitchen, humming to himself as he went. Patton popped in behind him as he slid the dish into the microwave.

“So...” Patton hummed as he fished cutlery out of the drawer under the coffeemaker. “We should probably start looking at where the poor lost little bird came from, huh?”

“Yeah,” Virgil agreed. “From what he said earlier, his parents aren’t exactly the most attentive, but I’m sure they’ve noticed he’s missing.” He twisted a dishcloth in his hands for a few seconds as he thought. Patton waited for him to continue, the soft hum of the microwave bridging the silence between them. “... I’ll start looking on Facebook and stuff in the morning. Maybe there’s one of those search party pages or whatever.”

Patton crossed the kitchen, wrapping his arms around Virgil in a hug. “And what do we do if we can’t find anything?” He asked softly, leaning his head against Virgil’s shoulder.

“I dunno,” Virgil admitted. “But I’m sure we’ll figure something out-”

“Virgiiiiil? I got my hair stuck in a button!” Roman whined from the other room.

“- And everything’ll be fine,” He finished, then pecked Patton on the forehead before heading towards the distressed boy. “Coming, bud! Try not to pull on it unless you want a bald patch!” He chuckled at the alarmed squawk he got in response as he ducked out the kitchen door.

[emybain]

“We can’t do this” kisses for nodrian

this! was! so! much! fun! to! write! 

okay but like, seriously, this may not be one of my best pieces, but it may compete with one of my favorite’s i’ve written

also, I really need to stop posting after midnight

this is based off of a kiss (kinda) prompt!

    Nova wrung out her hands, eyes flying over the tiny studio apartment that was her home. She was almost nineteen years old and had moved into the apartment right after she had turned eighteen, yet she still had unpacked boxes laying around. But, for today, those boxes were shoved into her bathtub and hidden by the curtain, away from view. She had made her bed for once and wiped down the slab of surface that was her kitchen countertop and even vacuumed. Her apartment was sparsely furnished, which made cleaning for an event like this easier, she supposed. It had all the necessities: a bed, a dresser, a fridge, a stove and oven, a dishwasher, a small breakfast table with mismatched chairs, a second hand couch that had belonged to Ruby, and a coffee table she had salvaged from a garage sale. There was a laundry room downstairs for all of her clothes washing necessities. The only nice thing she had on display was the TV Adrian had given her, and even that was used; it was his old one from his room before he had bought himself a new one.

    Now, Nova was a relatively tidy person. Not the cleanest person she knew, as she tended to leave her bed unmade for long periods and neglected to put dirty clothes in the hamper until laundry day. But today, she had to be the epitome of cleanliness. She scanned the five hundred square foot space for dirty clothes hiding, or, God forbid, the one piece of lingerie that she had received as a gag gift from Danna last Christmas. She had stuffed it deep within her least visited drawer of her dresser, not caring for the showy red lace. Bleh. She hadn’t seen it since she had buried it, but it would be just her luck for it to show up today, of all days.

    She had been living in her apartment for approximately ten months, and Adrian Everhart was just now coming over. Not to see the space. No, they had plans to discuss one of Adrian’s recent projects concerning public schools. After the Final Battle, he had delved into a lot of volunteer work, helping to better the school system and helping the homeless and building shelters for those in need, among dozens of other things. Nova, on the contrary, had been pardoned by the Council for, in simple terms, doing more good than bad, and for helping them beat the Anarchists in the Final Battle. At the time, Nova had still been bitter and angry. She had wanted to yell at them that she wasn’t helping them because she had a change of heart, but she was helping them because her uncle had much more planned for Gatlon than Nova had known, and it would have resulted in thousands upon thousands of innocent lives being lost. But she hadn’t, for one wrong word would’ve sent her to prison, possibly for life. So instead, Nova chose to work with them, and speak out for improving the government and making it a democracy where the citizens could be involved instead of letting the Renegades handle everything. Others joined her cause, even older citizens. While she was still involved with the Renegades creating a plan to change the way their small portion of the world was governed, she had put more time and interest in helping the citizens of Gatlon in self defense and being able to rely on themselves and targeting a large age demographic. The public had been tentative at first, seeing as Nova came from a questionable past, but slowly, her program began to gain popularity. Still, she hadn’t completely earned the public’s trust. She received hate and criticism from strangers, and many still crossed the street when she walked down the sidewalk. But she had gotten used to it.

    There was a knock at the front door, jolting Nova out of her thoughts. Her eyes widened, and she scurried across the room to the kitchenette, opening a drawer and digging through it. When she found the lighter, she rushed over to the coffee table where a small candle waited to be lit. It was pumpkin pie scented, which didn’t match the nearing spring season, but it had been the best smelling candle in the clearance section at the store across from her apartment. There was another knock as Nova hurried back to the kitchenette to put away the lighter. She cursed.

    “Just a minute!” she called out, heading to the door. She paused in front of the mirror, an unnecessary item in her home that Oscar insisted she needed. There was a small tea stain on the corner of her hoodie, and a rip in the knee of her leggings. The socks on her feet didn’t match. Well, it wasn’t like this was a date. It was a meeting. And her attire would have to do. With a small sigh, she went to the door and swung it open.

    “Hey, sorry about that.” Nova smiled brightly up at Adrian. She could’ve sworn he did a once over of her outfit, and the small quirk of his lips only served as evidence. She swallowed and held the door open more. “Ready to get to work?”

    “Yeah.” Adrian stepped inside, and she closed the door behind him, hand tightening around the knob as he looked around her apartment with interest.

    “It may look small, but it’s more than enough.” Nova bit her lip. Even now, she frantically searched for a bra peeking out from under a piece of furniture. Adrian turned back around, offering a supportive smile, but it did nothing to soothe the hammering in Nova’s heart.

    Because Nova had a small problem. Even though they had agreed to break up and be nothing more than allies after the Final Battle, for obvious reasons, Nova was still very much attracted to Adrian Everhart. And as of the past…year or so, very much in love with him.

    “It’s nice.” Adrian looked around again. At his old TV, at the few picture frames on her nightstand, at her bed. “Very…minimalistic.”

    They broke into an awkward silence, Adrian turning his head to see more of her home and Nova watching his face for any bad reactions. Finally, she let out a shaky breath and forced herself to let go of the doorknob,

    “Please, sit.” Nova waved at her couch, only sitting down once Adrian was seated. She made sure they were a good two feet apart. She reached for her notepad, which she had pre-placed on the coffee table for today, and the pen that sat beside it. “So, self defense training lessons in schools? How exactly would that work out?”

    Adrian shifted his knees toward her, and she could’ve sworn he inched closer. “Well, like I told you the other day, we could make a pitch to all the schools in Gatlon once we have a program set up. I’m thinking this could be more for middle school and high school kids, but we could also offer easier stuff for elementary schools. Make it more fun for the younger kids, you know? More of an introduction into self defense, and the basics.” He licked his lips, drawing Nova’s eyes to them. They flickered back to his immediately. She ignored how her cheeks heated up, instead choosing to jot down notes.

    Nova tapped her pen against her notepad. “I work with kids every day, Adrian. The program is open to all ages. Offering time in multiple locations is hard. We only have so much staff, and being in many locations is hard on them, not to mention the cost for new equipment, renting spaces, paying our staff…you get the point.” She waved a hand and cleared her throat. “We’re still new, Adrian, and we’re very, very poor. And while I hate having to even charge for self defense in the first place, I would have to raise our prices to accommodate to your demands.”

    “I mean more like a preview to the program itself.” Adrian shifted closer again. “I’m very aware of the financial side of things, Nova, trust me.” He smiled. Her heart skipped. “But, if we took, say, an hour out of a school day for an assembly once a year, make it a required event, invite parents to observe, etcetera etcetera, and have you, maybe, demonstrate some techniques, talk about the program, whatever, it could help the kids grow up to be more independent, and if parents are interested enough, it could help you as well by bringing in more customers. Not to mention,” he paused, breaking eye contact for a moment, before adding on it a much softer voice “it could help your reputation.”

    Nova’s fingers tightened around her pen. She glanced down at her lap. “This has nothing to do with me, Adrian. What people think of me doesn’t bother me. I could care less what they say.” He opened his mouth to speak, but she didn’t let him. “And yes, I know what they say. I hear it every time I leave my apartment.”

    “I just thought I would bring it up-”

    “This is about the kids and the future of Gatlon,” Nova established sternly. “I’m simply here to help plan and execute it.”

    They were both silent, neither meeting the other’s eyes. Nova did take notice that Adrian was less than a foot away from her now. That was partly her fault, allowing him to get closer instead of scooting away. The Final Battle for Gatlon was over two years ago, and while they had agreed to be allies for the sake of bettering Gatlon, and hopefully the world, Nova and Adrian had dared not stray into relationships of any kind that were not professional or friendly. Adrian had never truly forgiven her for what she had done, and she had never truly forgiven him for similar, yet different, reasons. At first, their relationship after the battle was rocky and awkward, then soon it developed into a professional one. Then, seeing as they were friends with the same people, they began to slowly become vulnerable around one another again, as hesitant friends. And more recently, Adrian had been showing signs that were not signs meant for Oscar or Danna or Ruby.

    But that scared Nova. Their healing relationship was a good sign, yes, but it didn’t help with her very solid and very real feelings for him. And if those feelings were to even be expressed in something as miniscule as a look or accidental brush skin, their relationship could fall apart just as easily and twice as fast as it had reformed. A stitched wound was still an injury. It needed to be cared for and treated delicately so the stitches wouldn’t tear.

    Adrian suddenly grabbed her hand that wasn’t gripping the pen, inching closer until there was very little space between them. Nova’s face grew hot, heart speeding up. She looked anywhere but at him.

    “Is it so bad for someone to care about you? To want you to be safe?” he murmured, breath fanning her hair.

    Nova gulped, lungs not quite functioning properly. “The only person who needs to care about me, is me.” She wanted to tear herself away from him, to rip her hand away from his, which was slowly interlacing their fingers. But she also felt her belly churning, telling her to just stay a moment longer.

    He had the nerve to smile. “Then tell me why I do, too.” He leaned in closer, if that were possible, and when she didn’t object, he took the notepad and pen away from her, setting them on the coffee table. Just so he could take her other hand.

    “Adrian,” she whispered, feeling dizzy and hot and a million things all at once, crashing into her.

    “Nova,” he whispered back, a plea. Their eyes met, and then, by the force of gravity, their lips brushed. For that split second, Nova was on fire.

And then her senses flooded back, filling her body with horror and regret and a self hatred that had been kindling for so long.

She pulled her hands away from him, her dizziness turning to nausea. Her head fell forward, finding the crook in his neck, despite her brain telling her to get as far away from him as possible, that this was impossible, that he could never and would never be hers.

“We can’t do this,” she gasped, desperate for the air that he had taken from her.

Adrian was breathing as heavily as her. His hands found her shoulders. “Why not?”

Nova found the strength to push back, to give her enough space between them so she could collect herself. She could still feel his lips, just barely over hers, just barely kissing her before she had pulled away. “Because of you,” she said bitterly. “And because of me. Who we are, Adrian.”

“Is this about what we agreed on?” Adrian rolled his eyes, sighing exasperatedly. “Nova, that was two years ago. I thought I made it clear long ago that I had forgiven you. I thought you had forgiven me too, but apparently, I was wrong.”

“When did you forgive me,” Nova demanded. Her head was still spinning. She blinked, hoping it would help her.

“When you started showing that you really wanted to bring change.”

“That’s very vague.”

“Oh my-” Adrian groaned, rubbing his eyes underneath his glasses. “When you agreed to work with the Council on a new system.”

“That was, like, two months after the battle,” Nova deadpanned.

“Exactly.” Adrian nodded, tone matching hers.

Nova opened and closed her mouth, feeling like a fish. “Whatever…no, it has nothing to do with that.” Actually, it had a lot to do with that. Nova ran a frustrated hand through her hair. “Adrian, you and I both know that we could never be together.”

“Why is that?” Adrian leaned closer, but this time, Nova leaned away.

She laughed bitterly. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe it’s the fact that my uncle was Ace Anarchy. And not only that, but I am the only well known Anarchist to have walked away from that battle alive, so the destruction my uncle caused is immediately my fault. People aren’t exactly fond of me, Adrian.”

“I thought you didn’t care what other people thought of you.”

“I don’t.” Nova groaned, resisting the urge to go bang her head against the wall. “It’s you who would be affected by it.”

“I don’t care what they think,” Adrian said quickly. Nova gave him a look.

“Really? Tell me that again when, in two months, say we’re out in public together and the media writes about it, you start getting death threats in the mail over our relationship. Trust me,” she said dryly, “you’ll care then.”

“You’re being ridiculous.” Adrian moved closer again. Nova was out of room to move any further back; her back had hit the couch arm. His voice grew soft as he spoke, “Nova, I will never give a horse’s ass what anyone thinks of us. You have been all I can think about for three years, ever since I had to fix that damned bracelet of yours.”

Nova clenched her fists. There were tears at the back of her eyes. She blinked rapidly, hoping that they would go away. “Why? Why me, Adrian? I’m only going to end up hurting you again.”

He grabbed one of her fists and unravelled it, placing her palm over his chest. She could feel his racing heart beneath his shirt. “Then break my heart, Nova Artino. You have my permission. I am not fragile. I will only heal and come back to you, again and again.”

“Adrian, you don’t-”

“I’m in love with you, Nova.”

And then Nova, incapable of controlling her emotions, unable to think straight, because holy hell, Adrian Everhart said that he loved her, no, said that he was in love with her, pulled him to her. Their lips crashed together in sloppy delirium, but very soon, they found a rhythm. Nova shook as she wrapped her arms around his neck. His hands went to her hair, and he twisted them around so he could lay her down on the couch. All of her senses were in overload, spilling over the edge with nothing but Adrian, Adrian, Adrian in them. Far away, she heard herself say his name, and him responding with a soft moan. She thought back to their first kiss, a lifetime ago, and how this was so, so much better.

Only when Adrian kissed her tears away, before moving onto her neck, did Nova realize she had been crying.

-

Nova picked at a snag in Adrian’s long sleeved shirt, head resting in the crook of his arm. Their legs were tangled together. The sun had set not long ago, and they laid together in the dark apartment in silence, just holding one another and listening to the sound of each other’s breathing.

“I’m in love with you too, Adrian.”

[taeyongtime]

for the one i’ve always loved

genre: childhood friends to lovers!au ⎮ fluff

group & member: NCT’s Jaehyun

word count: 5.5k

a/n: inspired after watching the movie for ‘To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before’ + please read the book series too and stamp “jaehyun channels big kavinsky energy” on your forehead 

“I have never seen a dirtier pigsty than your room, Jung Jaehyun.”

The familiar soft chuckle you grew up listening to since age five echoes across the four walls and you roll your eyes at his nonchalance.

“Are you going to clear some space up for me to sit or what?”

“You can just move my clothes aside,” Jaehyun laughs as he turns back to his computer. “It’s not like you haven’t done it before whenever you come over.”

“Then I’m not coming in,” you huff, lean against the doorway with your arms crossed. “Not until you clean your room and there’s visible space for me to sit.”

“You’re quite a lot of work as usual,” he sighs, getting up from his chair and clearing the pile of dirty clothes on his bed into the hamper while reorganizing the clutter on his desk. “Happy?”

“If you had developed a readily aware sense of when to clean then we wouldn’t be having this type of conversation.”

“Hold it, I just happened to be lazy on this day of all days.”

You take a seat on his cleared bed and glance at the dimmed laptop on his desk. 

“What are you doing?”

“I was watching a 19+ film before you interrupted me saying I needed to clean my room.”

“Oh my god.”

“I’m kidding. I was checking my email because I haven’t checked it in a while.” 

He turns around in his swivel chair. “What’s up?”

“My parents are currently traveling on a cruise ship for 2 months and didn’t think to tell me until this morning via a handwritten note taped onto the fridge.”

“Don’t laugh!” you whine at hearing his warm laughter. “It’s nothing to laugh about!”

“Let me guess, next you’re going to say something about crashing here for the next 2 months because you don’t want to be alone in that big house of yours.”

“…I hate you.”

One last chuckle and Jaehyun gets up to retrieve the sleeping bag he keeps in his closet for just an occasion, tossing the bundle at you as he teases about the injustice of sharing his space with a person he has known since youth when there was already not much room for two people when it could barely hold the things of one.  

—

You and Jaehyun used to be next door neighbors before he moved out to an apartment closer downtown.

The Jungs had moved in next door three days after your eighth birthday, the dimpled boy waving at you while sitting on a cardboard box with ‘TOYS’ written in black marker on its side instantly becoming your closest friend before you could even wave your hand back. Seat partners throughout elementary school and the number one go-to whenever you wanted to hangout or simply as company, Jaehyun was always there for you when you needed him and it couldn’t come as a bigger surprise when he told you of his move out the day he turned eighteen. Used to being able to hop over in a matter of five minutes tops for ten straight years, you had sulked for a good week before talking to him again, getting hold of his new address once he settled in and immediately working out the fastest navigational route to his new place from yours for an impromptu housewarming party.

“Where are your parents headed this time?”

“Australia and New Zealand,” you answer, wiggling into the sleeping bag and turning to face his bed rather than the bookshelf on the wall. “They said it’s quite nice there and they have friends to catch up with anyway. Then they’re going a bit further up to spend a week in Indonesia and two days in Thailand before coming back here.”

Jaehyun’s nose scrunches while he pauses to take in the information and a sneeze follows. 

“So… So tell me what made them think it was okay to leave you behind all by yourself?”

You shrug. “I don’t know. They think it’s fine since I’m an adult now but I can barely do anything when everything’s been done for me. Chores? Cooking my own meals? I already have a hard time deciding what to wear some days, how am I supposed to cook, clean, and manage my life when I’m practically no different from that of a baby?”

“Then it’s time to learn.” The bed creaks from the weight lifted off its frame and the light goes out, leaving you wide-eyed in the pitch black that was Jaehyun’s bedroom as he shuffles back to the warmth that was his covers. 

“You’ll be fine.”

“Really? What if I end up burning the house down trying to microwave popcorn at 2am?”

“You’ll be fine,” he insists. “I’ll be your chaperone in the kitchen to make sure you don’t set off the fire alarm and wake my parents next door.”

“You’ll come over, then?”

“Yeah, of course.”

Smiling into the covers of the sleeping bag, you mumble “good night” and he does the same, silence drawing the curtains to a close as sleep overtakes your remaining perception of consciousness.

—

You return home early next morning, but not before Jaehyun made breakfast when he woke at 9:30 and you 10am. Stomach content and brain alert after eight hours of deep sleep, you unlock the door with a cheery hum and take in the large empty space that was the living room and the open kitchen, the set of stairs leading up to the second floor only increasing the dread of being by yourself with so much emptiness around. Not only were your parents away on their trip, but it didn’t even seem like the housekeeper was here—that much your parents still allowed you on what they called “the journey towards independence” by allowing the housekeeper to still come in to clean. You didn’t hear the sweeping of the broom in the dining area or even the harsh vacuum for the carpet upstairs, and while she mostly kept to herself while she worked, there was still an occasional check-in whenever she came in during the afternoon to tidy up. A part of your daily routine was clearly missing today as you close the door and head upstairs to change into a set of comfortable clothes rather than the top and bottom you had gone out in.

“Where’s my pen?”

You dig around the container of pens on your desk and find the one you’re looking for, the tip still smeared in ink from yesterday’s leakage. Pen ready, you open the first drawer and reach all the way towards the back, taking out the round pink box nestled behind volumes of old schoolbooks and popping off the lid to reveal four envelopes within—three sky blue and one a dusty rose color. Lifting the flap to reach at the letter inside each one, you unfold the creased papers and scan over each one, deeming them fine as they are until you reach the letter from the pink envelope. Bringing the pen close to the next space on the line, you start writing as you see fit, ink slightly smudging the edge of your pinky as your hand travels down the page.

“And… done.” 

Clicking the pen to retract the tip, you note your spot in the letter and refold the worn crease marks from constant instances of unfolding and refolding. It would probably be best if you transferred everything to a fresh sheet for easier reading, but there was always more to add for this specific letter. There was a reason why this letter was in a separate color than the three sky blue envelopes, its recipient and intention on a whole different level than the other three.

Back in the box your letters go and you return them to their usual hiding place, closing the drawer shut and making your way to bed, wrapping your body up in the warm covers as you close your eyes into a light sleep. Writing a letter is truly something special to retain in this era of technology and everything fast-paced, the notion of snail mail holding a quaint inkling of fondness in your heart. Fondness of the writer at the thought of the sealed envelope making its way towards the intended recipient in due time and the surprise of the recipient at receiving a heartfelt message in the mailbox without prior notice.

But it’s not like you will ever send all the letters you’ve written. Especially not when the pink envelope contained a love letter of all things.

—

Jaehyun, as previously promised, comes over at six in the evening after dinner with his parents to oversee your first attempt at cooking a meal for yourself and nearly falls to the floor at the scope of the mess that was your cooking skills.

“What the hell happened here?”

“I told you, I can’t cook!” you yell, jumping back at the drops of oil bouncing out of the pan. “Can you taste the spaghetti and see if it’s cooked? I don’t know what’s the right texture to be labeled as ‘chewy but not too firm’.”

“… Stand aside.”

“I have to do this myself, Jaehyun. Just… I don’t know, walk me through it.”

Fifteen minutes later you manage to produce a plate of spaghetti that didn’t look like pig slop and didn’t taste that bad either, but definitely not as good as it could’ve been as you bite down on a strand of what seemed to be still slightly undercooked noodle.

“Passing for a first timer,” your best friend comments. “But spaghetti is one of the easiest dishes to make, so…”

“Okay, we get it, Master Chef, sit your ass down already.”

“I deserve an ice cream right?” he begins, already opening the freezer while you continue eating your dinner. “After saving your kitchen from being burnt down?”

You place the tomato-stained plate and fork into the sink after you finished eating. 

“Only if you wash the dishes first.”

“Deal.”

He ends up taking two ice cream bars rather than just the one he was promised, irking you to no end as you slap his hand off the refrigerator the moment it touches the space on the bottom to pull it open.

“You’re about to clear out my entire fridge, you pig.”

“Ouch. So mean.”

Edging him out of the kitchen to wash the dishes yourself, you jump onto the couch after putting them in the dish rack to dry and stare up at the ceiling, not knowing how you were going to survive on your own for the next two months.

“The semester starts tomorrow,” Jaehyun begins. “Nervous?”

“Actually, no,” you tell him truthfully. “Surprising, I know.”

“It’s good that you aren’t nervous. New year, new you.”

A playful flick at his shoulder for the attempt to lighten the mood and he gets up, brushing at his jeans. 

“I’d better go. It’s late and I have an early start tomorrow.”

“You can always stay over at your parents’ place, you know. That’s your home too.”

Jaehyun shrugs. “Yeah, but my backpack and stuff is back at my apartment.

“Can I use your bathroom before I go, though?”

“Use the one upstairs,” you tell him as he makes his way towards the bathroom by the kitchen. “The sink in that one’s kinda weird.”

“Will do.”

—

“Hey, you’re Y/N right?”

You lift your head up, having just barely set foot out of the lecture hall for 10am biology at the sight of the boy standing before you, lips pursed and arms crossed. He didn’t look too happy, and you sure hope you hadn’t done anything wrong when you nod and ask what business he had with you so early in the day.

“I’m Doyoung. We had an Intro to Statistics class together last semester.”

“Yeah, I remember,” you nod again. “You’d always sit in the same row as me.”

“Can you explain what you mean by ‘bigheaded prick’ in this letter?”

He holds up a blue envelope and your blood practically runs cold at the sight of the yellow happy face sticker on the seal, edge curled upwards from the envelope being opened to access the letter inside.

“How… How did you get that?”

“Found it in between my calculus homework,” Doyoung says in a clipped tone. “Didn’t know I had my very own anti-fan until now.”

You swallow at the memory of angry scribbles from last semester’s statistics class, complaining on paper about how Doyoung always asked so many questions during discussion and extending class time past the designated time slot because he always had something else needing an answer right after the first question was answered by the TA. How he was smart but needed an ego check, a know-it-all who couldn’t see past the raised nose bridge that was always cast down upon others… not good. Not good at all.

“I’m really sorry I said those things about you,” you apologize with a low bow. “I really… didn’t mean it.”

“I’m not sure you’re sincere about the apology at all.”

Your head dips even lower until you can feel the hunch in your back. 

“I’m sorry, I really am.”

Murmurs of curiosity begin to buzz around your hunched figure, Doyoung luckily having the decency to forgive you quickly before a crowd began to gather. 

“Yeah, fine, you’re forgiven.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m going to keep this, by the way.”

You recoil in surprise and he nods in the affirmative. “So I’ll know what people are talking about when they start talking behind my back.”

“Doyoung, can I please get my letter back?” you ask desperately. “It’s… private.”

“Not anymore.” He tucks the blue envelope into his backpack and shoots you a gummy smile. 

“See ya.”

You wave your hand weakly and sigh, fear slowly rolling in when you realize that if one of your letters had already gotten to its recipient, the other blue envelopes probably would be in the hands of their readers also.

“Oh no,” you gasp, pulling at your hair. “Not… Not the pink one too?”

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Spooked at the sudden question, you whip your head around and nearly collide into Jaehyun; he extends a hand for you to help steady yourself from falling.

“Something wrong?”

“I…” You open and close your mouth, not knowing how to best phrase the situation. “Uh… did you…. You remember that one time you came over to my house?”

“I’ve been over to your house so many times,” he laughs. “Which time?”

“Be…Before the semester started,” you blurt out. “Do… Do you remember seeing a, uh, pink box? When you were over?”

“Nope.”

His answer only further sinks the stone in your churning stomach and you shake your head, hands pressed against your temples. 

“This is bad.”

Jaehyun frowns. “What’s up?”

“N-Nothing. I… I gotta go.” You hurriedly wave and leave without another word, feet frantically taking you away as your brain races to backtrack when you’d last seen the box of letters. One blue envelope was already out, and there was no call for where the other letters would be.

Hell, there was even a chance that he could’ve seen the pink one but was just keeping quiet for your sake.

—

News of the second letter came in the worst way possible, the jolly recipient of the second blue envelope broadcasting his encounter with the letter over the university’s radio station for all to hear late in the night. While gratefully given anonymity on the DJ’s behalf, his consistent rambling on your notation of his friendliness and bright personality on paper was enough to keep you from storming out to the radio station yourself to tell him to shut the hell up, not daring to leave the library when you still had to finish the second half of a 5-page essay due by 9am tomorrow. Plugging in your earbuds, you shift your focus back to your laptop and tune out the radio, which luckily switches to a new ballad song of one of the currently popular artists and not more talk about any handwritten letters.

It is nearly 2am before you finally submit the assignment, and on your way out of the library you bump into none other than Johnny Seo himself, the man in question who ran the radio station with an entire five minutes today on receiving a lovely handwritten letter. Unsure if he knew who you were, you quickly turn tail to avoid making conversation, but the exclamation for you to wait stopped you dead in your tracks.

“Sorry,” he apologizes when you turn around to face him. “I got the wrong person.”

“N-No problem.”

Silently whispering thanks to the heavens for letting you slide by, your triumph is short-lived at the sound of footsteps from behind, the frown on Johnny’s face easing into a slow smile as he shakes his head knowingly at having missed the obvious.

“You’re Jaehyun’s friend. We met a while ago, yeah?”

“Well, Jaehyun’s very popular across campus, so I’m not surprised if you don’t remem—”

“And you wrote this.” He holds up the blue envelope. “It’s addressed to me.”

You debate denying but find no point in doing so when he had already indirectly exposed your letter fiasco to the entire student body. 

“Yeah, I wrote it.”

“It’s a very nice letter.” He takes out the slip of paper tucked inside and scans the contents. “I didn’t know I had such a positive presence in your life.”

A flush of red creeps onto your cheeks and you duck your head down, not knowing how to respond. 

“Well… you’re always so encouraging to your radio listeners and just… an overall cool person.”

“May I keep this? This is the first fan letter I’ve ever received.”

“I… I’d rather…”

The eager look on his face too much to disagree upon, you find yourself nodding ever so slowly while sighing internally at having already agreed to give away two of your prized letters. 

“Okay. You can keep it.”

“Great! I’ll walk you home, if it’s fine with you?”

“Y-You don’t have to.”

“Please.” He offers an arm. “I insist.”

Once at your front door, you receive quite the pleasant surprise when Jaehyun’s mouth drops at seeing you and Johnny together.

“Hello.”

“Your best friend is cute,” Johnny smiles, wiggling his fingers to a wave before pushing you towards Jaehyun. “Take good care of her.”

“Will do,” Jaehyun laughs, beckoning for your house keys and opening the door to let you in first. “Later, Johnny.”

“Why are you here?” you ask your best friend curiously.

“Thought to ask you to go get food with me but then you didn’t show up until now.”

“How long were you waiting?”

“Uh….  Maybe four hours?”

Your eyes widen at the thought of Jaehyun waiting four hours outside your doorstep and punch him on the shoulder.

“Why didn’t you message me earlier?”

“I did,” he points out. “But you probably were too busy to reply.”

“God, I’m… I’m so sorry.” You usher him inside and drop your things down. “I was… preoccupied.”

He nods in understanding and sits down on the couch. 

“Want to talk about it?”

“Um… not really.” Even though he was your best friend, it wasn’t in your best interest to inform him about your missing letters. The slips of papers were your most prized possessions, hidden feelings recorded down in ink that you didn’t have the courage to reveal in person. Not that they were all love-related, with Doyoung’s being a vent about the difficulties of his character and Johnny’s an admiration of his bright personality and wanting to become his friend, but there did remain two letters harboring romantic interest—one blue one for a tiny crush and the pink one that could change everything if not handled the way you had intended for things to go.

“I just want you to know that I’m here for you,” he says with a smile. “You can tell me anything, you know.”

“I…” A heavy sigh falls through your lips. “Okay. Here’s what happened.”

❀

“Hey, hey, hey.”

“Oh, hi Johnny.”

An enthusiastic hand claps your back. “So I heard there’s still one more blue letter circulating around.”

You roll your eyes. “Did Jaehyun tell you?”

“A little bird tweeted it out,” he grins. “His name could be Jung Jaehyun, I’m not sure.

“Need help finding the third one? I can send out word through the radio.”

“That is the last thing I need right now, Johnny.”

He shrugs. “Just a thought.”

“I don’t even know how they got out in the first place,” you fret. “I keep them closely hidden at home, there’s simply no way—”

“Well, I got mine in Physics. Jaehyun was looking through my notes and noticed there was a blue envelope slipped inside between the pages.”

“Jaehyun found it?”

“Yeah.” He suddenly reaches into his back pocket and stares at his buzzing phone. 

“Sorry, I have to go. See you around?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Good luck with the last one.”

“There’s actually one more, but…”

Your words trail off as Johnny takes his leave, the gears in your brain slowly trying to piece together Jaehyun’s role in the situation of your missing letters.

“Did Doyoung find his through Jae, too?”

Before you can look through your phone for Doyoung’s number, a quiet cough sounds from behind and you turn around to face the recipient of your final blue enveloped letter.

“Are you the one who wrote this letter?”

—

The third letter was one that you put quite an amount of time into, but you didn’t know why you were so nervous as your fingers tightened along the edges of the books you were carrying in your arms. Not that your feelings were anything more than a tiny crush upon a guy who had been kind enough to direct you to an 8am class last semester when you didn’t know where to find the building it was located in.

Taeyong was only being nice then, but it didn't stop you from casting side glances at him when you found out he was in the same major and shared most of your classes with you.

“I…” You blubber. “I, uh… well…”

“Oh, hey, Taeyong.”

An arm slinks around your shoulder and you gulp as you greet your best friend, nudging at his side and casting glares at the blue envelope in Taeyong’s hand. Hopefully he got the hint that you needed to get away from Taeyong so you didn’t need to address the topic of the letter.

“Jaehyun, I need to go study,” you blurt out, your brain working overdrive to churn out a reasonable excuse of leave. “We made plans to go to the library together, remember?”

“Right,” he chimes after, glancing at the blue letter in Taeyong’s hand. “Catch you later, Taeyong?”

“Um, I was hoping to ask Y/N about—”

“Gotta go, bye Taeyong!” 

You pull Jaehyun after you and make it to the library entrance before stopping and turning around to face him.

“Thank goodness you showed up in time,” you wheeze, adjusting your grip on your books as you take much-needed breaths of air. “Otherwise I wouldn’t have known what to say about the letter.”

“Actually, I was specifically looking for you,” Jaehyun says with a shrug. “It wasn’t a coincidence.”

“Oh, okay. What did you want to talk about?”

“Well, about the letters…”

You hear an exclamation of your name just as Jaehyun opens his mouth to speak and drop your books onto the ground at the sight of Doyoung hurrying over towards you and Jaehyun.

“Are you busy?” he demands.

“No…”

“Then follow me, this is important.”

You glance at Jaehyun and he gestures for you to go. 

“I’ll wait for you at the biology hall.”

“Yeah, sure.”

It turns out that the important thing Doyoung had dragged you aside for was a review session for his current Statistics class, one that you had a different professor for. Apparently the review slides weren’t going to be posted online and he had entered the classroom fifteen minutes late, thus the proposal for you to transcribe the first half of the slides onto paper while he paid attention to the TA reviewing the second half of the powerpoint for the sake of the fifteen minutes he’d lost getting there after the start time and the five minutes it had taken to pick you up. Maximizing efficiency by utilizing all available resources, he had said.

“I’m missing a few points,” you tell him as students begin to file out of the classroom after the two-hour session comes to an end. “This is how much I managed to get down though.”

He skims over your notes and nods. 

“It’s good enough. The TA said this upcoming exam is focusing more on the newer material anyway.”

“Then why did you drag me here when I was in the middle of something with Jaehyun?”

“You owe me from the letter.”

“I remember receiving forgiveness for calling you a prick,” you scowl. “What the hell?”

“Now you’re forgiven,” he corrects you. “Thanks for coming here on such short notice.”

“… I don’t regret what I wrote in your letter.”

It was already dark out by the time you leave, hurrying over to where Jaehyun had said he’d be waiting. You didn't think it would take this long and had forgotten to text him to not wait for you during the whirlwind that was statistical facts and definitions demanding for your attention.

“You made it.” The figure sitting on the bench outside the biology lecture hall stands up and smiles in relief. “I was afraid you’d forgotten.”

“No, it…. it ran longer than I expected. Sorry for not letting you know ahead of time.”

Jaehyun shakes his head. “I would’ve waited for you to show up regardless.”

“Dinner’s on me for having you wait,” you offer. “Cool?”

“Oh, definitely.”

—

Jaehyun never brought up the topic of the letters after you’d grabbed dinner that night, and you receive the surprise of your life when Taeyong approaches your table in the library one Friday afternoon before your 3pm chemistry lecture.

“May I sit?”

“Y-Y-Yes.” You hurriedly move your things to make space and he smiles as he sits down. 

“Sorry it’s so… messy.”

“About the letter addressed to me…” he begins without missing a beat.

You brace yourself for his reply, closing your eyes shut so you didn’t have to look at him. The imagery of him rejecting you in the library and calling you a creep for staring at him in class was so embarrassing to even think about that—

“I think you’re a very nice person, Y/N.”

One eye slightly opens and the other gradually follows. 

“Me? Nice?”

Taeyong nods and smiles. “I didn’t know we had so many classes together either. If I had known, we could’ve been study buddies so I wouldn’t need to study all by myself last year.”

A nervous laugh escapes from your lips and you clap your hands around your mouth, ducking to avoid the stares and curious turns of heads from other tables.

“Thank you,” he whispers. “I don’t know if I share the same feelings, but your letter still means a lot to me.”

“I understand,” you whisper back, genuinely grateful that this hadn’t gone as badly as predicted. “Um, so this means you don’t mind exchanging numbers so we can study together right? You’re in like, three of my classes this semester.”

Warm chuckles bubble up in your corner and he inputs his contact information into your phone, dialing his own number from your device so he had a record of your phone number as well. 

“It’s no problem at all.”

You grab your phone back after he’s finished and nod in thanks.

“Actually,” he breaks in. “I do have one more thing to give you.”

“Oh?”

A pink envelope is placed on the middle of your notes and your eyes widen.

“I won’t say who I got it from,” Taeyong says slowly. “I was only told to deliver this.”

“But.. you didn’t…”

He leaves without another word and you hesitantly peel the flap of the envelope open, heart caught in your throat as you take out the letter inside and read the only line written on the center of the paper.

❀

Maybe deep down you’d already known it would be him.

The minutes tick by as you sit outside of the library, waiting for him to show up while the campus slowly empties out with the completion of classes and anticipation for the weekend. The numbers of people walking by dwindle down and you sit up when you spot the lone figure heading your way when most passerby walked the opposite direction.

“Sorry,” Jaehyun apologizes, sweat glistening at his forehead as he offers a sheepish smile. “I didn’t know my meeting would run this late.”

“It’s fine.” You get up from the bench and smile. “I know you would’ve done the same for me.”

His signature dimple makes its way onto his face and you take out the pink envelope Taeyong had given to you earlier. 

“So.”

“So,” he echoes. “What’s with the letter?”

“Where’s the original one? The one I had in here written about you?”

Feigned innocence twinkles in his eyes as he shuffles his feet, avoiding eye contact. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Come on, I can recognize your handwriting like my own. I know you have it with you somewhere.”

He reaches into his backpack, pulling out a sheet of folded paper that was creased all around the edges. 

“I was debating framing this up so I can stare at it first thing when I wake up in the morning.”

“Gross.”

“Can’t be more gross than the fact that you never told me in all the years we’ve known each other that you love me.”

Embarrassment rolling off your shoulders in waves, you start to walk and a second set of footsteps follow suit. 

“Hey, it’s true that you love me, right?”

“I don’t know,” you dismiss. “It’s cold out and I’d like to get home before it gets dark out and the wind picks up.”

The lax pace from behind breaks into a run and you stop in your tracks when a pair of hands grab your wrists together, sneaking around your waist to pull you into a hug.

“Let me go, Jaehyun.”

“Did you think I’ll say no when I’ve pretty much felt the same about you all this time?”

The gentle look in his eyes softens even more and he takes off his jacket, draping it over your shoulders. 

“Here, it’s getting a bit cold.”

“Well,” you huff indignantly, pressing down the feeling of bliss fluttering in your stomach. “If you love me too, then why did you send out my other letters? Those were private, you know.”

“I thought… they looked ready to be sent, so I just dropped them off anyway. They were all signed off and everything.”

He winces at the impending groan from your end and moves his arm up, resting his hand on your shoulder in apology. 

“Are you… mad at me for doing it?”

“It’s already been done, so there’s nothing more I can do about it,” you sigh. “But at least they all know how I feel and I can get some form of closure with my feelings.”

“Then…” His eyes scan your face, nervous as he bites his lips. “Then this also means you accept my apology… right?”

You eye him with a knowing glance and slowly break out the smile you’d been suppressing, bubbles of laughter echoing in the darkened night sky.

“What’s so funny?” he frowns.

“The look of fear on your face,” you giggle, “Priceless!”

Realizing you’d pulled a fast one on him, he pulls the jacket off your shoulders and you gasp in the cold of the night, the thin green hoodie on your back not nearly providing enough warmth as Jaehyun’s puffed one.

“Give it back, I’m cold!”

“Nope.”

“I’m cold!” you shriek, shoulders hunched at the wind nipping behind your exposed neck. “Give it back or I’m breaking up with you!”

“You’re breaking up with me already?” He offers his jacket just out of reach for your arm span. “Right when I was going to re-offer my jacket?”

“You never even answered me,” you refute as you cross your arms to retain whatever body heat that hasn’t escaped yet. “So I don’t know, maybe you’re breaking up with me, not the other way around.”

The padded layer re-drapes itself onto your shoulders and you hurriedly fit your arms inside the sleeves. 

“What’s your final answer, Jung Jaehyun?”

“I’ve already read your letter and told you I’m not going to say no, what more do you want?”

Displeased at the lack of clarity, you stuff your hands into the jacket pockets and start to walk, humming a quiet tune that only increases in volume as another hand slips into the right pocket to intertwine its fingers with your own.

“Your hand is warm,” you mumble without looking at him. “Aren’t you cold without your jacket?”

“No,” he answers, tightening his hold on your hand while matching his pace with yours. “I’m warm just by being with you.”