#I cleaned swept and mopped the kitchen floor

[kedreeva]

I've been cleaning all day, I think you should get up and do a chore, too. we're in this together.

[milf-harrington]

not to brag but my house looks SO GOOD

[eugeniedanglars]

spent the whole afternoon cleaning/organizing and you can barely tell. what if i walked into the ocean and was never seen again

[fantabulisticity]

Before:

After:

I retrieved my hoses from my old place a day ago or something (time is weird for me rn), and my landlords only want me to keep a select few items in the shed so I have to keep my hoses indoors. I let them drain in the bathtub, and then I wound them up small enough to fit in my little trash bags and put them up on a high shelf in my closet. The aftermath: dirt, leaves, and one little bug I couldn't identify and have no idea where it went.

[headofocs-inklesspen]

Im going to be so fucking pissed if I spend my night clearing out every fucking cabinet in my kitchen and bathroom and pest control doesn’t show up tomorrow. I’m already pissed that I was given less than two days notice that pest control is scheduled to be at my building tomorrow and I have to empty out all of my cabinets for them

[griffsursparker]

tell me why my roommate gets soooo pissed off when other people leave any sort of mess or don't clean right when they're supposed to, and yet. according to the cleaning schedule (that SHE made). she was supposed to clean over the weekend. and yet she did not clean

[steddieas-shegoes]

Nother idea: Wayne & Eddie coming home from a long ass day, tired & stressed, both of them arriving at their trailer at the same time. Both of them taking a deep breath knowing that they'll have to clean up & prepare dinner but both are exhausted. But when they come in their trailer is sparkling clean. The floors swept & mopped, dirty clothes put into the wash, clean clothes folded neatly on the couch in piles for both Eddie and Wayne. Their trailer smells clean & fresh, they turn towards the kitchen & see Steve humming quietly to himself along with the radio on low as he pulls fresh made supper from the oven, on the counters are baked goods cooling. Wayne & Eddie realizing that Steve not only cleaned up their home but he prepared them easy to reheat meals, cleaned up their space bc he knew they'd be exhausted & both of them like the trailer to be clean, but neither had time. So he did it because they are his family & he loves them & wants them to feel safe and cared for in their new home.

MY LOVE! So I kinda ran with a somewhat different background plot, just because it kind of felt like I needed to show that Steve ain't slackin'. I also moved this one ahead of another request because I needed to write Wayne in a sappy way after chapter 2 of demon Steve. Steve was born to be a housewife with guidance counselor tendencies and I don't make the rules. ENJOY! - Mickala ❤️

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Eddie felt the exhaustion fully hit him as soon as he put his van in park.

He’d been working more overtime over the last month to save up for the down payment on the house he and Steve fell in love with.

The government money helped, but it mostly went to medical bills and a new van when his old one had become government property.

Wayne told him to keep as much of it saved as he could. “You never know what life will throw at ya,” he’d said.

Steve had been working a lot too, but was focusing on his classes at the community college, trying to set up a better future for both of them.

It meant that Eddie was pulling a lot of the financial weight right now, that Wayne was doing as much as he could for them so they could actually save up, but it would all be worth it.

Wayne knocked on his window and he blinked his eyes open again.

When had he even closed them?

Eddie opened the door and stepped out, groaning at the ache in his knee. It still wasn’t 100%, probably never would be as long as he was doing physical labor, and today had been particularly rough at the shop.

“Alright, bud?” Wayne asked him, hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah. Just tired,” Eddie replied.

“You and me both. Let’s go relax a bit.”

But relaxing wouldn’t be on the table until they fixed dinner and cleaned up a bit and Eddie knew the faucet had been leaking when he left this morning and they didn’t need a leak like that running up the water bill, so he should probably try to fix it before bed.

He let Wayne go in first, as always, knowing he’d take longer going up the porch steps.

He could handle walking just fine most of the time, but stairs were a bitch.

He nearly walked right into Wayne when he walked through the front door, the older man standing stock still right in the entrance.

“Wayne? You good?” Eddie asked, his mind suddenly filtering through any number of terrible reasons for his sudden frozen demeanor.

And then he could smell it.

Cookies.

Someone was baking cookies.

And then he saw it.

The living room was completely cleaned and organized, magazines stacked neatly on the table, no crumbs on the couch or carpet, the weird mud stain from Eddie’s boots no longer on the rug by the front door.

He heard the record player going, though the volume was low enough that he could also hear Steve singing in the kitchen.

“Looks like your boy’s been busy,” Wayne smirked over his shoulder at him.

“I don’t-“ Eddie started to say.

“Eds? Wayne? You guys home?” Steve called from the kitchen.

Before they answered, he walked around the corner with an apron on, his glasses perched on his nose, and a beaming smile on his face.

“I just put the lasagna back in the oven to heat up a bit for you. Had to wait for the cookies to come out,” Steve said as he walked towards them.

He wrapped his arms around Eddie’s neck and kissed him on the lips quickly, then pulled away to give Wayne a quick side hug.

“I made some lemonade that should be nice and cold by now. You want some?”

Eddie and Wayne blinked at him, surprise at what was happening rendering them speechless.

“Is everything okay?” Steve’s tone shifted to concern, the smile dropping from his face as he took in their stillness.

“You cleaned?” Wayne asked.

“And cooked?” Eddie asked.

“And baked?” Wayne added.

“My afternoon class was canceled and Keith said he wouldn’t approve overtime for me, so. I came home?” Steve still looked concerned, like he was waiting for one or both of them to start yelling at him.

“Where’s your car?” Wayne asked.

That was a great question. Eddie just realized it wasn’t in the yard, which was half the reason he’d been shocked to see Steve here at all.

“Oh! Max needed to go to therapy. I was already in the middle of baking so I told her she could just use it as long as she was back by eight.”

“So you’ve been cleaning and baking and cooking all afternoon? For us?” Eddie asked, biting back as much emotion as he could.

He was tired and overwhelmed with love and he knew he would start crying if he didn’t contain some of it.

“I just wanted to take care of you guys and take care of our house. You worked all day and I had some free time to do it,” Steve shrugged.

Wayne collected himself first, moving toward Steve and squeezing his shoulder.

“Thanks, son. You don’t know how much I appreciate ya doin’ all this,” he said, voice slightly choked up.

“It’s no problem, Wayne,” Steve replied, face red.

“Mind if I go grab a shower first?” he asked Eddie.

“Fine with me,” Eddie responded.

Wayne nodded once, smiling at them both, and walked to his room to grab clothes for after his shower.

Steve looked up at Eddie shyly.

“Lasagna will be about 20 more minutes if you wanna grab a drink,” he said quietly.

Eddie smirked.

“Some of that lemonade sounds nice,” he played along, knowing exactly where this was going.

No matter how tired or sore he was, he wouldn’t turn down the chance to get his hands on Steve or have Steve’s hands on him.

Steve led him into the kitchen by his hand, tugging him along as he excitedly explained that he’d found the lemons at a farm stand on his way home from work yesterday and considered using them for a cheesecake, but decided this would be better.

Eddie smiled at him fondly, just happy that Steve is happy.

“I’ll get you a glass, just wait right there,” Steve said, pushing him against the counter gently.

But Eddie didn’t let him pull away yet, fisted his shirt and pulled him against his front.

“Eds!” Steve yelped as they made contact.

“I’m sure the lemonade is perfect, but I want a taste of you first, sugar,” Eddie mumbled, leaning down to press his lips against Steve’s.

Steve melted against him, letting Eddie’s tongue past his lips and letting out a low moan when Eddie’s hands squeezed his ass.

“What’re you doing?” he whispered against Eddie’s lips.

“Touching you,” Eddie answered before kissing the corner of his mouth, his cheek, his jaw.

“Wayne though.”

“He’s already in the shower. We got a few minutes.”

“We can’t do much in a few minutes,” Steve said, trying to stifle another moan as Eddie’s fingers untied his apron and slid to the front of his jeans to undo his button.

“You underestimate how hot it is to see you like a little housewife, sweetheart,” Eddie chuckled.

Steve slapped his arm.

“Not a housewife.”

“No? You sure seemed happy about cleaning up and cooking for me,” Eddie said as he slid his hands into the waistband of Steve’s boxers.

“Eds,” he gasped, but didn’t stop him as he wrapped his hand around his half-hard cock.

“Get me out, Stevie. Don’t have much time,” Eddie groaned.

Steve did as he was asked, but still seemed hesitant.

Eddie paused.

“You wanna call it?” he asked.

If Steve truly didn’t want to, he knew what to say to stop, and he knew Eddie would stop, no questions asked.

But he shook his head, biting his lip to contain a whimper as Eddie looked down at their cocks and spit.

“Gotta stay quiet, still. Don’t wanna be caught,” Eddie whispered as he leaned in to kiss him again, keep his mouth preoccupied so he didn’t give them away.

He knew Wayne would be at least another 10 minutes, but they both liked the idea of having to stay quiet and be quick.

And quick it was.

They both came in barely two minutes, Eddie riled up from Steve just being Steve, Steve being riled up at the fact they were doing this in the kitchen.

“I just cleaned this floor, you better not have gotten anything on it,” Steve smirked at Eddie as they buttoned themselves back up.

“Promise I’ll clean it up myself if I did.”

“You better. Gonna go shower next?” Steve tied the apron back up, walking over to the fridge to finally get the lemonade.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sore today. Hot water will help.”

Steve turned to him with a furrowed brow.

“You should’ve said, baby. You need some Motrin or something?”

“Nah, maybe after I eat. Got a dose of you to help,” he winked obnoxiously.

“Alright, keep it in your pants,” Steve said as he poured a glass for Eddie and a glass for Wayne.

“You’re the one who had it out a minute ago!”

Steve just gave him a dead-eyed stare before handing him his lemonade.

“Get out of my kitchen.”

“Sir, yes sir!” Eddie saluted.

He took a few sips of the lemonade as he walked towards his bedroom to grab clothes.

It was delicious, as he expected.

Just like coming home to Steve every day.

[buckybabieboy]

You’re five are so good!! EXACTLY what I’ve been looking for!!! I just read your list of headcanons and I would LOVE a full length fic about what happened the first time he got overstimulated and used his safe word (and all of that lovely aftercare that followed). If you have time of course, no pressure!

I'M BACK!!!!! and you are so sweet babie, made me smile🥹. thx for your request and I hope you like ur fic <3

Plum. (Pt. 1)

⚠️TW: (please read!): SO MUCH NSFW!!! LIKE 2 AND 1/2 ROUNDS LMAO, sub!inexperienced!bucky, dom!fem!reader, a little bit of a mean!reader, thigh riding!!, overstimulation(m!receiving), unprotected p in v sex, mentions of subspace, mommy/mama kink, use of “y/n”, bucky calls you "babe" once or twice, use of safeword, TONS of aftercare <3

☁️Summary: After a bad day outside and an incident with Bucky, you catch an inexperienced!bucky pathetically humping your pillow. Your sadistic thoughts cause you to get carried away. Bucky's up to it at first, just wanting you to make him feel good. But as the night goes on he begins to realize he was in over his head. (Bucky’s first time being overstimulated and uses safeword!!)

📝 Important A/N!!: I exceeded my character limit (lol). I had to divide this whole fic into two parts, so pls stay tuned for part 2 (dropping soon)! Part 2 will be where the actual overstimulation takes place. Also I added thigh riding because it just made the whole plot imo😩. THERE IS SO MUCH FUCKING DETAIL IN HERE I LOWKEY OVERDID IT LMAOOOO

Traffic is the bane of your existence. You’re usually a very patient person, but when you’re stuck behind ten cars and a red light that just won’t seem to turn green, your patience suddenly becomes none.

There were a million things you wanted to accomplish before the day was finished. Your laundry and Bucky's still needed to be washed, and no matter how many times you reminded Bucky how the washing machine worked, he would continue to give you that bewildered and helpless face, leaving you to do it by yourself. On top of that, you left the apartment a mess. You secretly hope Bucky cleaned around the house while you were gone, though you weren’t counting on it.

Horns blow from different cars amongst the street, as if that would speed the agonizing waiting process up. You let out a huge sigh of relief when the light turns green, finally making your turn to your apartment complex. Once you’ve parked the car, you trudge your way to the apartment. Before unlocking the door, you make an effort to collect yourself so you don’t take you anger out on Bucky.

You can’t stop yourself from letting out another sigh in relief; you were finally home from your long and rough day outside. And to your surprise, the apartment is now squeaky clean. The floor had been swept and vacuumed, and was shined from being mopped. Dropping your purse on the kitchen counter, you kick of your shoes and let your hair down from the tight ponytail it’s been in all day.

“Bucky, I’m home!” You call out as you scavenge the pantry for a snack. Not even a second later, footsteps were coming towards you, and before you can even open your bag of chips, Bucky has dashed to your side and was holding you tight in his arms.

“y/n, your back!”

“hey, Jamie!” You plaster on a smile, trying to reciprocate his energy. His face is still buried in your neck, his hands tangled in your hair.

“missed you.” Bucky whines as he inhales the scent of your perfume. “why’d you have to leave me every day?”

Bucky was clinging to you as if he hadn’t seen you in years. His clinginess was undoubtedly caused because of Steve. He hadn’t been the same since he left, and you understood this better than anyone. You try to relax in his embrace, and allow him to hold you for as long as he needed.

“I'm not even gone for that long, Bucky.” You giggle as you try to enjoy the one good part of your day. “c’mon, let me get changed. I’m tired and had a really rough day.” You whisper to him softly. He nods and begins to free you from his arms.

“ow!” You wail suddenly, scrunching your face in pain. Multiple strands of hair had gotten caught on Bucky’s vibranium arm.

“sorry! let me just-” Bucky tries to disconnect your hair from his fingers, but only makes the situation worse by tangling them deeper towards your scalp.

“Bucky, just stop it!”

You drop your unopened bag of chips on the counter before grabbing his hand and leading him to the bathroom mirror. You begin untangling his fingers from your hair slowly, letting out a wince every so often, but finally managing to free his metal fingers from your hair.

“Y/n, didn’t meant to-”

“s’fine. just gonna brush my hair now.” You exhale before grabbing the brush and detangling your hair. Although you’d never show it to your very oblivious Bucky, this was your last straw today. You slam the bathroom door in his face in a fit of anger. Ignoring how badly you immediately felt afterwards, you attempt to calm yourself down.

“It’s not his fault. It’s not his fault. It’s not his fault.” You tell yourself as you struggle to comb out the knots in your hair. After you finished with your hair and wash up, you quickly pass through the bedroom, catching a quick glance at Bucky before you pass. He’s sound asleep on the bed, sprawled out like a dog on your sheets. Clad in only briefs, his pale and plush thighs were exposed just for you to see.

Trying to stop your mind from wandering into other places, you decide to use this time for yourself to forget about the unfortunate day you’ve had. Without another thought, you throw a bag of popcorn in the microwave and turn on some Adult-Swim, doing your best to cloud your mind.

You must’ve been there for over an hour, because before you knew it, it was already 8:00 pm. A yawn escapes from your throat as you clean up and head to your bedroom.

You’re about to open the door when you hear what sounds like faint moans coming from the other side, along with rhythmic creaks from the bed.

As you lean your ear against the door and listen for Bucky's pitiful whimpers, filthy and nasty thoughts start to flood your mind. You open the door a crack, just enough to see Bucky frantically rutting his bare cock against your pillow, which cemented your suspicions. The sight was truly pathetic. His boxer briefs were slung around his ankles, and his brown hair clung to his sweaty forehead. He continues to fuck your pillow without noticing you, obviously too concentrated on trying to cum.

You enjoyed your Adult-Swim, but this, this was a show for you. A sight for your extremely sore eyes. You were honestly at a crossroads here, almost not wanting to intervene. Just let him fuck himself on the pillow you sleep on every night, even though he obviously didn’t know what he was doing. His movements were sloppy and lazy, indicating that he’d been at this for a while.

“dammit!” He whines as he falls lip onto your pillow, finally giving up. He continues to whine and whimper into it, still grinding ever so slightly onto the sheets. You watch him closely, noticing how desperate he looks, exhausted and frustrated because he just couldn’t seem to make himself cum.

“awh…poor baby.” You interrupt as you open the door and enter the room. Bucky immediately stops his movements and stares at you like a deer in headlights. “couldn’t do it by yourself?”

“tryin…” Bucky whines, head faced down at his painfully hard cock which was twitching against your pillow. “shit… just can’t do it like you can, babe..”

Bucky picks his subtle but noticeable thrust against your pillow again, looking at you with teary eyes. You slowly make your way to the bed and grab his face with both hands and kiss his plush lips. His big blue eyes look up at you as he gives you a meek smile.

You give him one more kiss. “I’ll bet I could do a better job than this pillow, don’t ya think?”

Bucky nods in agreement, immediately throwing the pillow to the side and kicking off his briefs as you settle yourself on the bed and against the headboard. Bucky stares at you with anticipation, waiting for you to tell him what to do next. With two flicks of your pointer and middle finger, he’s crawled to your side in an instant.

“on my lap, lovie.” Your sultry voice commands, and Bucky does exactly what you tell him. His plush thighs have settled against both sides of your left thigh, and he settles his bum on your lap.

You graze your fingers lightly up and down his red and stiff cock, causing a breathy whine escape his throat.

“m-mommy, please don’t tease me like that… been w-waiting f’you all day…” Bucky whimpers shakily, hips bucking up at your movements. “hah- n-need more!”

A smirk creeps it’s way onto your face. He was so fucking adorable when he’s begging you to make him feel good. So adorable that you couldn’t help but tease him a little before giving him what he wants.

“how bad, hm?” You tease, fingertips dragging down to his balls, giving them a tight and sudden squeeze. Bucky’s mouth falls agape, and his eyebrows furrow upwards as he yelps at the sudden sensation.

“s-so bad, f-fuck!” His voice only gets whinier after your taunting.

“hmm… I don’t think you want it bad enough, darlin.”

Bucky watches your face with watery eyes, noticing your sadistic smile never disappear.

“n-no! please babe, want it- need it so bad!” He bucks his hips towards you, desperately searching for any sort of friction. His cock pulses under your fingertips, which are still softly grazing it up and down. Your face remains cold and unamused, as if his tears weren’t enough to convince you.

Bucky shakily takes your fingers, rubbing them on the tip of his cock, gathering as much precum he can with your fingers.

“s-see? d'you see, mama? l-leakin' so much for you. jus' gimme somethin', anythin' please...”

You knew you were being cruel by making him wait this long, but he looked so pretty begging for you to make him cum. The fact that he only depended on you to make him orgasm made your pussy throb. And as he so pathetically told you before, he just couldn’t do it like you can. He definitely didn’t have half the sexual experience you did, and still couldn’t even jerk himself off enough to get himself to cum.

“and what if it’s too much f’you? don't want you to get overwhelmed.” You question, placing your hands on both of hips, receiving a pleading look from Bucky.

“I asked you a question, Jamie.” You shoot him an alluring and voluptuous look with wide eyes, but Bucky just couldn’t meet your gaze. His eyes were shut closed, his face contorted in desperation.

“hah- d-don’t care… just do somethin’- nngh!”

Bucky starts, but interrupts himself with a pathetic whimper when he feels you grip harder onto his hips, slightly nudging them back and forth. His cock twitches as all of his pre-cum leaks onto your bare thigh, creating a slick and pleasurable mess for him to fuck himself on.

“a-ah, f-fuuckk…” a long whine makes its way from Bucky’s throat, his eyes rolled back. “please, mommy… can’t keep doin' this to me…”

“you wanna cum?”

He immediately nods his head up and down.

“go ahead then, pretty boy. fuck yourself against mommy's thigh.”

“wha..? n-no I-I can’t-”

“It’s my thigh or nothin’ Jamie.”

Bucky remains quiet for a little while but softly nods his head in agreeance.

You release your hold on his hips, curious to see how he will do on his own. Bucky starts to frantically rutt up against your thigh. His lack of rhythm causes you to think back to how you found him earlier. Your helpless little baby was in too much of a hurry to cum to get himself there.

“goddamit, I-” Bucky whimpers as his movements come to a stop and he punches the bed in defeat. “I don’t know how… please show me…”

Tears are streaming down his cheeks as he does his absolute best not to make eye contact with you. It was humiliating enough to have to ask you to make him cum.

Finally deciding to have some mercy, you begin to rock his hips back and forth, slow and steady against your thigh.

“ha-d-don’t stop, please…” His eyes are rolled back, little grunts escaping from his pink, parted lips. His metal hand holds onto your shoulder while the flesh one grips harshly onto the white bed sheets.

“you look so pretty fucking yourself on my thigh, baby. that’s it…keep goin’, don’t stop…"You coo at Bucky, who continues to desperately go at it on your thigh. Once he’s found rhythm, you let go of his hips and watch him.

Your praises must have motivated him some more, because his thrusts increased in speed, causing the whole bed to rock in unison to his frantic movements. His dog tags do the same, clashing into each other and swaying in tune with him.

The way Bucky's cock twitches and pulses against you is almost as if it is pleading for release. Even though it feels incredible, being inside of yourself will always be superior. The comforting, smooth feeling of your walls is unrivaled by anything. However, he keeps rutting against you in an attempt to get the relief he has been chasing all day.

Bucky’s grunts and pants above you. The sounds coming from him become more high-pitched with each jerk of his hips. The feeling of his warm pre-cum against the smooth skin of your thigh was driving his aching cock insane. He was so desperate for release—and he was almost there. Almost about to cum all over you. But his thighs were burning in pain.

“oh, fuck! I can’t, p-please, mama! please help me, I’m almost there!” Bucky cries, tears streaming down his extremely flushed cheeks.

His thighs tremble and spasm, his movements slowing down. He couldn’t do it anymore. Your baby had been at this for hours before you found him; it was only a matter of time before he would become completely exhausted. Your supersoldier definitely had super strength, but there were certain things he just couldn’t do by himself.

Such a poor little baby.

You latch your hands onto his hips again, more than willing to help your baby boy. With a slight nudge backwards and forwards, Bucky becomes a whining mess, his hips stuttering under your hands as you guide him closer to his orgasm. He thrusts frantically against your thigh, but this time in a perfect rhythm of back and forth movements (he has you to thank for that).

“good boy, Jamie. almost there, you can do it, baby.” Your words come out soft and smooth, coaxing him even further. He pants and whimpers through gritted teeth, muttering an almost incoherent string of curses.

“a-ah, shit-please… lemme cum, please lemme cum! m’ so close, so fucking close!”

You hum in response.

"go ahead, baby, you've been such a good boy for me."

A fraction of a second later, Bucky throws his head back, violently spasming on your lap. Loads of his white cum spurt out all over your leg as he cries out pathetically for you. His large, veiny hands desperately grab at the sheets, as his eyes roll back in pleasure. The veins in his cock are more than prominently bulging as it twitches and pulsates up and down against your now cum-coated thigh.

You watch him intently. His eyes have closed shut, and his heavy panting causes his loose brown hair to blow up with each breath. A few moments later, he falls limp against your chest.

"you okay, Buck?"

Bucky swallows for a moment, then contiunes to pant heavily. You fawn over his cuteness.

"answer me, baby boy. mommy asked you a question."

He softly nods his head against your chest.

"good," you reply with a whisper. "'cause I know you can give me another one."

STAY TUNED FOR PT. 2!!!

[bey0nd-1he-stars]

All I ask - Kaz Brekker

Masterlist

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x reader

Wordcount: 1293

Warnings: mention of a wound, alcohol

Summary: after a failed heist Kaz wishes to speak with you

Storming into the slat after the almost failed heist, all of you dumped down on chairs, huffing and downing the cups of liquor that Anika placed on the table.

"Thanks Anika," Inej said quietly as she placed down the now empty glass on the wooden surface. Kaz didn't say anything, he just swept the whiskey, sat the glass down with a thump and stormed off to his room. No one said anything as you all watched him stalk his way to the stairs and started to climb them. No one said a word as you listened to his cane tapping against the floor. When Kaz finally slammed his door shut, Jesper turned to the rest of the Crows.

"Well, that was interesting," he raised his eyebrows. Wylan rolled his eyes but his lips still held a small, playful smile when he set his gaze on Jesper again.

"What part of it?" wondered Nina and gestured to Anika, asking for another whiskey.

"All of it?" Jesper offered and held his glass out to Anika as she poured another round for each of them. You swept it quickly, letting the strong liquid burn in your throat, taking it as a reminder that you were still alive. The small amount you had left in the bottom of the glass you poured onto the wound on your upper arm, not bothering to clean it any more thoroughly. Inej caught you in the action but settled for a grimace your way. You were stubborn and the cut wasn't very deep either so she knew you wouldn't appreciate the nagging about taking better care of it. All of you were still upset about the messy heist, and conveniently enough, the man who'd planned it all had already left the table.

Wylan gave away a soft sight and let his hair fall back, almost hanging upside down over the back of the chair. His eyes closed as he caught his breath and let the burning sensation of the whiskey make its way through his body. His mop of curls fell from his face and you caught Jespers gaze flickering to him. With a cough he pulled his revolver and started playing absently with it, keeping his hands occupied. Feeling you gaze on him, Jesper looked at you and was met with a kind but teasing smile that had his cheeks blossoming in a soft pink. He shook his head at you, silently asking you to keep quiet about it just as Wylan sat up straighter and swept the whiskey glass in his hand to go leave it in the kitchen. The scraping of chairs against the floor covered the sound of Kaz's door opening and closing a few floors above you and you almost hit him square in the chest when you walked out of the kitchen. Stopping dead in your tracks you waited for Kaz to pass before making your way to the stairs. A good night's sleep would do you good after the messy heist but you barely made it to the stairs before Kaz called out for you.

"Y/n, my office in 5," he said, then he walked past you and trudged up the stairs again, leaving you with no other option than to follow him.

After stopping by your own room quickly you walked to Kaz room. Pushing the door to his office open you were met by the dim-lit sight of Kaz at his desk scribbling away on a paper in front of him. He didn't make any signs of acknowledgement but you sat down at the chair in front of him and waited until he looked up from his work. The late hour and the messy heist already had you irritated and Kaz calling you up three flights to talk didn't make it any better. Not to speak of the fact that, now that you were here, he didn't even look at you.

"You wanted to talk," you deadpanned. Kaz stopped his scribbling and placed the paper to the side. He looked up from what he was doing, his brown glare meeting yours in a harsh gesture. You held his gaze and noticed how it quickly flickered to the tear in your shirt and the bloody cut on your arm. It still stung subtly from the whiskey you'd poured over it but you paid no mind to it. Kaz looked away from you and diverted his gaze to the window instead, watching as a crow flew by the window. You glanced at the window too but quickly looked back to meet Kaz's eyes again. He just looked at you, something deeper than anger swirled in his eyes but you couldn’t really see what it was. You simply waited until he would say something. He was the one who called you up here, saying he needed to talk to you, but now that you were here he was quiet as a mouse. After almost 10 minutes of complete silence, your eyes met each other’s and then they quickly turned away again, seeking something else to look at, you sighted and crossed your arms over your chest. Kaz finally spoke up. 

“I’m sorry.” It was as simple as that. Those two words were the only thing he said. You looked up at him, not expecting the apology at all. But when you met his eyes you didn’t have the heart to be angry with him. 

“It’s not only me you should say sorry to. You should tell the whole crew,” you said softly and tried to seek his gaze but he looked down at the table, twirling his pencil between his glove-clad fingers. After a few moments of silence he replied, “I know.” You nodded and sat up straighter in your chair, thinking over your words before speaking them out loud for him to hear. 

“You gotta stop gambling with our lives as if we were a deck of cards, Kaz. We’re your friends, not some knights and queens of spades that you can throw on a table whenever and however you need,” you voice was gentle but both of you knew that you meant every word you said. And it was true. Kaz has been risky with all of your lives lately, not only tonight. He’d been taking you all for granted, but mostly he’d been taking your help for granted. He knew that you’d do anything for him if he just asked. But he hadn’t and that’s where he’d lost you for a while. You weren’t some slaves to boss around with or tools to use when needed. You were crows and crows work together. When Kaz didn’t reply you stood up to walk out and get some sleep, like you’d first intended. Just as you were out the door, Kaz spoke your name. You stopped in your tracks. The tapping of his cane could be heard from the other side of the door. He stopped just on the other side and you stood with you back facing the closed door. He knew you were still here, but he didn’t bother to open the door. 

“Tell… tell the others. That I’m sorry. For all of it.” 

“I will. With a promise from you to be better.” That was all you asked of him, to try to be better, to ask for help, to treat you like crows, like friends. You could feel your heart hammer in your chest for the broken boy who’d learned to never ask for help the hard way, for the boy who’d lost everything because they’d asked for help, for the boy on the other side of the door. Please say okay. It’s all I ask for.

“Okay.”

[toxic3mmy]

hii! i hope this isn’t going against boundaries as it is a little angsty, but could you do a fic where the reader is going through a depressive episode and alex tries his best to help them? love ur writing!

of course! i struggle with mental health and love this request idea!

(also, im sorry if this feels repetitive from my other works!! please feel free to leave more requests my lovelies! <33 )

prompt: alex helps you through a depressive episode

warning: mention of depression, sh, and scars

________________________________________

it had been three weeks. alex had been trying to get a hold of you for the entirety of this time and had no luck except for a few texts from you. he was really beginning to worry.

was she in trouble? did something bad happen? is she in the hospital? is she just very busy with life?

alex didn’t know, but what he did know was that it had been long enough since he last saw you.

you were stuck in a terrible loop. wake up around 3pm, watch the show you were hyper fixated on, toss and turn in your bed, eat some snacks, and sleep around 5am. repeat the cycle again and again. sometimes you just laid there and thought about how much you hated life. sometimes you cried and cried for hours at a time. and sometimes, when your head was too full of resentment and hate towards yourself, you would drag your trusty blade across your scarred skin and felt the immense relief as the blood dripped from your self inflicted wounds.

you knew it was an issue. you knew you really were not okay. and most of all, you knew that you could never show this side of yourself to alex. he wouldn’t understand any of it and he most likely would abandon you like everyone else in your life had.

but a huge part of you wanted to see him. maybe seeing him would snap you out of this depressive loop. but maybe not, who knows.

alex had made his way to your house and he waited outside. he tried calling you one last time before making his move.

you watched your phone screen light up with alex’s face as you let it ring. you missed him, you really did. but you wanted to watch your show in peace. so you waited for the call to finish and continued to lay in bed, feeling sleep take over your body.

alex saw his missed call as a sign. he put his phone away and grabbed your extra key hidden inside your pink flower pot on the porch. he unlocked your door and slowly made his way inside. as he turned around from closing the door, he noticed the mess. it was an absolute mess everywhere. he knew how tidy you loved to keep your home so it was confirmed now that something was definitely wrong.

he creeped closer to your room and after opening the door, he noticed you must have drifted off to sleep while watching something on your phone. he looked around your room and saw that your room was in worse condition than the house. takeout food was lying around on the floor, dirty dishes, empty cups and dirty laundry had collected all over the room. the floor wasn’t even visible at this point.

alex knew exactly what this was. you had fallen into a depressive episode. but why didn’t you tell him about this sooner?

he brushed aside the questions and took off his jacket. he then began to pick up any trash he could find without waking you. he took all dirty dishes into the kitchen sink and washed them all. then he put all the littered clothing into your washer and began to wash them. he swept and mopped your room and was genuinely surprised that you had yet to wake up from all his movement.

he cleaned the rest of the house without hesitation. he knew this was probably the least he could do for you right now and he wanted to do anything he could for you.

it took him a few hours but he’d finally gotten everything done when he realized he forgot to clean a few things in your room. he walked in and abruptly stopped in his tracks the moment he met your wide eyes.

“alex…. what are you doing here? i can’t have you here right now i-i don’t want you here! i don’t want you to see me like this.. why are you here?! who told you that you could just break into my house and—and” you let out the most heartbreaking sobs as you broke down right then and there

alex rushed over to you and immediately enveloped you in his strong arms. you were quick to push him off of you, still crying.

“alex i haven’t showered in almost two weeks! i smell awful and look even worse! can’t you see that i don’t want you here!”

alex began to tear up as he simply held you in his arms once again.

“shh, it’s okay sweetheart. ya no llores corazón. i’m here, okay? i know you’re going through a lot right now and i’m here by your side no matter what. i missed you y/n. i’ve missed you so much. i just want you to be okay..”

you began to cry even more when he said these things to you.

“are you sure you’re okay seeing me like this? i… i’m doing really bad and this is all so embarrassing—”

alex sighed,

“princesa, you have no reason to be embarrassed with me. i’m your best friend. i love you and i always will. i want to take care of you, if that’s okay?”

you didn’t know what to say. you were so so grateful for him, for everything. all you could do was nod as tears silently fell down your face.

alex held your hand and led you into your newly cleaned bathroom. he grabbed your favorite hair brush and let your hair down from its messy bun. he softly brushed out all the knots in your long hair. he then handed you your toothbrush with toothpaste on it. although you felt a bit embarrassed still, alex had a way of being so nonchalant that it made the embarrassment lift off of your shoulders. you brushed your teeth as he finished off detangling your hair.

once you both finished, he played a soft playlist on his phone to fill the silence and began to take off his shoes and his tee shirt.

you couldn’t help but laugh with reddened cheeks as you covered your eyes with your hands.

alex playfully threw his shirt at you.

“hey! what are you doing?” you laughed, uncovering your eyes slowly

“i’m showering with you, duhh. now come on y/n, don’t let me make a fool of myself alone!” he laughed as he turned on the shower and then walked towards you.

his warm hands held you by the hips and your breath was caught in your throat as he slowly began to undress you.

“is this.. okay?” alex whispered to you as his hands stopped at the hem of your pants.

“yeah, yes it’s okay. i trust you.”

and with that alex undressed the two of you and helped you into the steamy shower. as the water ran down your body, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief. while you began to soap up your body, alex approached you and once again asked if he could come in. you laughed and pulled him into the shower with you.

you spent the remainder of the shower washing one another’s hair and body in the most innocent way possible. when you both finished, alex got towels for the both of you and he rummaged through your closet to find you some comfortable clothes. he also found some clothes you’d stolen from him and extra stuff he’d left at your house from weeks ago. the two of you got dressed in silence until you spoke up.

“alex… i really want to thank you. i really do appreciate everything you’ve done for me. i haven’t really been feeling that well lately. i um, i couldn’t leave my bed for so long. i feel too tired to even take care of myself or to do anything at all. i’m really sorry you had to see me like this…”

“y/n, please don’t apologize. you have nothing to apologize for. you’re only human. and even if you’re struggling with things that i may not completely understand, i’m never going to leave your side. one thing i did want to ask about was um… the scars on your arms and your thighs. have you always struggled with self harm? i… i hate to see you hurting yourself in this way. your beautiful skin…” he said as he held your hands in his

“i… don’t know how else to cope. i know it’s not okay to do but it brings me comfort, as morbid as it may sound. i’m sorry alex… i really am. i promise you that i’ll make an appointment with my therapist. i might have um ghosted her a few weeks ago but i think it would be best to reach out to her for help. i didn’t want to at first but i know you want the best for me and id do anything for you alexis” you were crying again but alex was quick to dry your eyes with his hands

he held your arms out and kissed the ragged red lines across your arms. he kissed every last one, and you couldn’t help but smile sadly at him.

“y/n, let me take care of you okay?”

“even if i get bad like this again?”

“yes y/n, i don’t plan on leaving your side. i’m here now okay? i’m here hermosa”

you waited in your bedroom doorway as alex changed your bedding to clean sheets and a clean blanket. you were so incredibly lucky and thankful to have him here with you. when he finished, he laid you down and followed suit.

“when was the last time you ate?”

“probably yesterday.. well technically yesterday but all i had was a soda and some fruit.”

“would you like me to cook something for you? or maybe i could pick up some food?”

“you really don’t have to do that, you’ve already done so much for me i mean look at this house! it’s spotless and i don’t know how to even thank you for that..”

“don’t worry about that. are you hungry, yes or no?”

you nodded sheepishly

“okay, then give me like twenty minutes and i’ll be right back”

and with that, alex left you alone to get you some food. the moment you were by yourself, you couldn’t help but sob uncontrollably. it was all too much too soon. you weren’t ready to get better. you just wanted to be alone and you wanted to rot away in your bed with no one to bother you.

as these negative thoughts began to surface in your mind, your thoughts immediately switched to images of your shiny little friend that was hiding in your bathroom. you went to retrieve your favorite sharp blade and rolled up your sleeve. you stared at the red healing cuts on your arm and you suddenly remembered alex.

he was kissing your scars and asking if he could take care of you. you didn’t want to disappoint him. as much as you wanted to stay unwell, you didn’t want to do that to him. you stood up and flushed the blade down the toilet. you took a second to walk around your house and admire all that alex had done for you.

you sat in your living room and turned on the tv while waiting for his return.

as promised, twenty minutes had passed and alex walked into your house with some dinner for the two of you.

“honey! i’m home!” he laughed at his own joke as you playfully rolled your eyes at him

“hi… i missed you” you surprised alex with a tight hug

“woah, is everything okay y/n?”

“yeah, now that you’re here everything is perfect”

and the two of you talked over dinner. you thanked alex profusely for everything he’d done. he said it was no big deal, that he enjoyed taking care of you. and that was the end of that. the rest of the day consisted mostly of alex being very cuddly and sweet to you. but you didn’t mind it at all. the two of you simply enjoyed being together and everything felt okay in that moment.

[idolatrybarbie]

machine wash warm

for my fifty follower celebration! @secretelephanttattoo asked: marcus pike and prompt no. seven— "did you just wash these sheets?" "i did." "they smell nice. and they're still warm." thank you, hope you enjoy!

rating & word count: 682 words | rated t

You haven’t really put a name to what this is… Marcus coming over, staying over. Spending the day in your queen sized bed, sleeping or wrapped equally between his arms and the sheets. He cooks you breakfast, he helps you clean. Late at night, when Marcus has drifted off beside you and your brain keeps you awake, you wonder what dirty trick the universe is going to pull to have this all turn sour.

The last thing you want is to break his heart. You’ve equated it in your head to kicking a puppy; unforgivable. But you aren’t quite ready to hand your heart over to Marcus for safekeeping. You tell him you just need a little while longer, promise. He always nods, smiling before he dives in for a kiss. 

This morning, you’re up and around the apartment, trying to get your chores done before the work week starts and throws you into a squall of assignments and paperwork. So far you’ve swept and mopped the kitchen, dusted the TV stand, and picked up your dry cleaning. Marcus was still sleeping when you left, face soft and eyes closed against the plush of his pillow. He’s truly gorgeous at all times, but when he’s sleeping especially.

He looks peaceful. That is all you ever want for him. It’s all he ever brings to you. Peace.

You can’t help but revel in it. After years of chasing the storm, or moreso being unwillingly pushed towards it, you love basking in the calm plainness of things. Onlookers would call it boring, a life spent blandly. You’ve had a lifetime’s worth of excitement; if peace is milquetoast, then so be it.

Carrying garment bags into the building lobby, you wait patiently for the elevator. Maybe you can drop these off and slip back out before Marcus wakes up, grabbing the two of you breakfast. He’s in love with the grimy little diner down the street and their six dollar breakfast. You’ve watched him eat it a half dozen times, and never is he less excited when the chain-smoking waitress arrives with his plate: pan-fried eggs, hash browns, and grease with a side of bacon.

The elevator ride is brief, the air of the metal box stale as you watch the floor numbers ascend above you. You stride down the hallway to your door quickly, turning your key in the lock before you let the door creak open softly. Everything is as you left it. The apartment sits quiet, the sun peering through the half open blinds in your living room.

You slip off your shoes at the front door. As you make your way further down the hall, you hear the dryer and its persistent thunk with every spin of the drum. That’s odd…

“Hey.”

You turn to see Marcus in the doorway of your bedroom, t-shirt riding up the slightest bit to reveal a dark brown happy trail. His voice is still thick with sleep, like greeting you is the first thing he’s used it for today.

You sigh lightly, smiling at him. “Hey yourself,” you say.

He lets you pass into your room. The bed is made, your pillows arranged in a vaguely heart-shaped form. You take a seat, stretching your hand across where Marcus has folded the flat sheet over the duvet.

"Did you just wash these sheets?"

"I did," Marcus confirms. He’s flipping through TV channels distractedly, surely trying to find the local news station.

"They smell nice,” you say. “And they're still warm."

He finds what he’s looking for, setting the volume low as a woman with the tallest hair you’ve ever seen starts on the morning weather update. Marcus drops the remote he’s holding to the bed, then moves to stand between your legs.

You reach up to grab at the soft collar of his shirt, pulling him down to you. He leans over you, pressing a kiss to your lips.

“Good morning,” he says.

You bite his lip, pulling at it between your teeth. Marcus raises his brows suggestively, earning a laugh from you.

“It is, isn’t it?”

[adiantum-sporophyte]

@ people in properly-functioning single family households: how do you keep your kitchen floors clean? I'm used to them being swept ~nightly as part of dinner cleanup, but like, I don't want to do that

relatedly, I assume mopping is a solved problem, but what is the solution? If I use a bucket am I not just spreading a film of dirty water over the floor, at a certain point?

[zentriii]

Most of the time? Atsumu's just a guy who acts before he thinks. Doesn't think before he acts. However that saying goes.

What feels good? What's easiest? What does he want?

Those aren't questions he writes down like life's an exam. They're simple urges that guide his actions during a typical day. He’s not a fan of overthinking the details.

He's been doing well enough for himself, so why fix what's not broken?

Unfortunately for Atsumu, there are times when this goes around to bite him in the ass. Covered in flour and three seconds away from screaming, well, he's shaking his fist at his past self again.

He sets the bag down onto the counter and peers in- great. Just what he was hoping for, there's not enough left.

Atsumu kicks the small pile of flour that was making itself comfortable laying on his feet and puts his thinking cap on. He’d wallow for a bit, but it’s too late at night for him to feel frustrated for long. It’s already half gone, slipping through him like a ghost. What's next?

Staring forlornly at the spilt four, he knows he has to throw it out. Sure the floor looks clean, but he hasn't swept in a week or mopped in. Actually, he's not finishing that thought. In too long's good enough.

He quickly sweeps up and takes a wet cloth for the bits that were left. Atsumu didn’t have the energy to chase the stubborn line the spade leaves behind forever. The recipe called for two cups of flour and he knows from just the look of it, there's not enough left. Fuck.

Alright so he needs flour. That's his solution. Unfortunately, it doesn't come with any steps he's willing to take.

Atsumu can feel the flour under his clothes, there isn't a damn way in hell he's going out in public looking like a hot mess. And honestly, it's the middle of the night. The clock above the stove helpfully supplies the time and puts the final nail in the coffin, 4:23AM. Even if there's a place open, it's nowhere near close enough. Not only would their PR manager have a fit if he got caught, he'd get clowned on by everyone until the day he dies for it. His friends and family don’t need that sort of ammo on him, they’ve already got enough as it is.

Atsumu shakes some of the flour out of his hair, if he's lucky one of the college students across the hall should be awake. It's midterm season, if his brother's grumbling over their last call is reliable. He stares mournfully at his apartment’s door. Hopefully the friendly one answers, because he's not looking forward to explaining himself to the one with the death glare.

The one with the death glare opens the door because of course the gods were laughing at Atsumu, of course they were. The words he had prepared die on his throat but thankfully Tall, Dark, and Brooding doesn't give the silence time to become awkward.

“Can I help you?” Grumpy-san asks, attempting to incinerate Atsumu with his eyes alone. Sadly for the poor guy, Osamu's been trying to do the same since the moment he came out of the womb, Atsumu's immune.

“D’you have any flour by chance?” Atsumu asks sheepishly, playing up the charm. He gestures vaguely to the mess on himself, “I kinda had a bit of an accident in the kitchen.”

“I can see,” The man drawls, not giving Atsumu an inch.

“What do you even need it for at,” he glances at his phone, “four-thirty in the morning.”

The Man with Moles glares at him, like he's a ten year old inconveniencing his teacher by asking to use the washroom.

“I'm baking cookies, would ya like some when they're done?” His voice is saccharine and his smile fake. Atsumu hopes his neighbour doesn't take him up on the offer. Who would want to spend more time with a guy that looks like he could make you shit yourself if he tries? So obviously, the hot stranger agrees.

“Are you going to poison them?” He asks Atsumu, and interrupts before he can answer, “Actually no, I don't care. They just better not taste like shit.”

He slams the door in Atsumu's face, which, rude, but gives Atsumu a chance to process what the fuck just happened. Ah well, a few cookies is a small price to pay, maybe he could even weasel a name out of Eye Bags for Days, it’s getting tough to keep coming up with names for him. A small part of him is offended at the lack of trust in his baking skills, but he’s aware of how he looks right now. Atsumu wouldn’t trust a stranger in sweats, knocking at his door at ass-o-clock, asking for flour cause he got it all over himself.

The door opens as abruptly as it closed, and a container of flour finds it way into Atsumu’s hands, damn, Curly Hair works fast. “Don’t come by again for another 10 hours at least. Good night.”

With that he nods a goodbye and Atsumu still feels stuck reeling. His Ma raised him with manners though, even if he deigns to ignore them most of the time, so he chirps a quick, “Thanks! Ya saved my life.”

His gratitude is sincere, his words, less so. It doesn’t matter much as his fellow insomniac’s eyes are bleary with sleep. Glaring must be exhausting. He grumbles something Atsumu can’t pick up, and closes the door, Atsumu takes that as a courteous you’re welcome or anytime, even if he’s not tired enough to actually believe it. The guy should’ve spoken more clearly if he didn’t want people putting words into his mouth.

Still mostly dusted in flour, Atsumu walks back to his place. A little lighter with the container of flour weighing him down, a little nervous to see the man again, a little annoyed at his curt responses. At least he’s interesting, Atsumu can’t stand boring people. He’ll just overlook the guy’s prickliness as sleep deprivation, he’s a kind guy like that.

updated vers on ao3

[fangbangerghoul]

Since Friday I have been nonstop deep cleaning. It was started due to the fact that I had a Graduation BBQ scheduled for Saturday. The celebration was for the associate's degree in psych I received back in the fall. I am now at another university working towards my Bachelor's in polysci prelaw It has been a lot on me. So, I am putting down everything I have done the past 4 days so I can see the actual amount of labor I have put in and get some things off my chest. I will put it all under a cut because I know occasionally coming across long posts can be irritating.

Friday:

deep cleaned the living room

organized my kiddo's toy by size and function

moved smaller toys and less used toys upstairs

rearranged the living room

so, my room was then a mess, and this took me several hours (8am-3pm)

Saturday:

had to finish the living room and also tackle the kitchen

dusted the living room

swept and mopped the floors and walls

had to organize a semesters worth of paper from kiddos school along with loose bills and other papers that have piled up

cleaned all the counters

cleaned the accumulation of dishes

had party

had to clean up after the party but thankfully I did not have to cook

Sunday:

had to fix my room, it was driving me insane that things were everywhere

separated kiddos toys even further

organized toys into proper placements

rearranged my own items on desk, near bed

tried to fix my bed more (sheets, make sure nothing was piled around it)

this was the easiest day because I was beyond sore from the previous two days

Monday:

I had to finally do the clothes

tore out all of the clothes from the closest

separated them from my own and kiddos

separated them from summer and winter

hung up all my clothes within my closest

organized all of kiddo's clothes into two small dressers

tore out the remaining items out of the closet

rearranged organization and put things in keep and throw away piles

vacuum the carpet and gather all the loose paper and garage

put everything back in the closet

ive done this from 1030a - 430pm

This probably wouldn't have been so bad if I was able to do a little bit of this over time. However, I live with my intermediate family (There are 4 adults including me and my child) and they never deep clean. This past semester I had to dedicate all of the free time I had (so time where I didn't have to be in mom mode) to schoolwork. Which did pay off because I ended both classes with an A+ and a B+ and my GPA is 3.65 but the house had a special layer of yuck.

So, cleaning dust, cleaning walls, moving things to sweep under, organizing cabinets, etc. They just don't do it. That means it always falls on me because I am the only one who seems to see these things and think hmm that really needs to be done. The most they do is dishes, take garbage, occasionally a bathroom. I wouldn't mind doing the brunt of the housework if in exchange I was compensated for the extra amount of work I do. Because I also am the main one that cooks, prepares meals, and keeps inventory of the house. (I also do not work but even when I did, I still had to do these things. And I am not going to stand here and mother the house when 1. I have my own child to mother 2. they have all been on this earth long enough to know these things and 3. I don't have it in me to provide that extra emotional labor)

Doing all of these tasks have wrecked me, the spoons are gone, my body aches all over and the fatigue has doubled over. BUT the majority of what needs to be done is finished and I am hoping I can keep up with the organization now that kiddo and I do not have rigid schedules due to school. Sad part is I am not sure if I have the energy to do the things that bring me joy to recoup.

Also, if I never had gotten to the downstairs shared spaces, I would have never been able to tackle my own space. It is always a shitty balance of I either focus on my own area or I help the household.

Don't get me wrong I am well aware of the privilege I have to live with family to complete my degrees while I raise my child. But my entire life with my family I have had to choose between financial security or my mental and emotional wellbeing. I always pay more than what is received.

[grvntld]

6 june 2024—of noods and vroom vroom ✨️🍜🏍✨️

this day was wildt, wildt, i tell you! super daming nangyari like oh my gosh when i got the chance to take a nap, i woke up disoriented longer than the usual few seconds it takes my brain to process where i am, what day it is, and all that blah. as in ang tagal ko talagang nakatitig sa wall bago naka-adjust brain ko. hehe.

enihoot, here are the things that kept me busy:

🎀 walked the furbebis in the park first thing in the morning

🎀 exercOise like rAwr

🎀 made seafood pancit canton for breakfast yum yum yum

🎀 prepped for motorcycle driving lessons

🎀 motorcycle driving lessons of course duh hehe i did zigzag drills with signal lOights

🎀 checked nbs for some acrylic paint

🎀 waited for moosey to pick me up so we could go home

🎀 once home, we took the furbebis out again so they could go their thingy outside

🎀 then, i rested for a bit while moosey cooked ginisang ampalaya for lunch

🎀 ate lunch with moosey of course duh

🎀 just sat on the couch and watched house m.d. while moosey prepped for his wednesday ganaps and until we kissed good bye like mwApsy mwAps mwAps

🎀 fell asleep while watching house m.d.

🎀 woke up supah distoriented lol

🎀 took a bunch of deep breaths bc i honestly didnt hv any clue what was happening when i woke up

🎀 started cleaning the house (((first was our shower area turned storage room in the bedroom, then washed the dishes and cleaned the kitchen, swept and mopped the floors of the whole house, arranged the rooms, put stuff back in their rightful places)))

🎀 bathed and dried the furbebis after having them go potty outside again

🎀 mopped the floors again bc borg (((our panganay furbebi))) gets excOited and extra playful after every bath lol (((he rolls on the floor ganOrn)))

🎀 took a shower to freshen up and prep mahself for mah me tOime

🎀 prepared mahself a delicious snackaroo aka mah spicy cheesy noodles, and then added some hotdogs and a huge glass of okinawa milktea

🎀 watched house m.d. while enjoying mah snackaroo

🎀 took the furbebis out for the nth tOime so they could do their own thing again lol

🎀 cleaned up in the kitchen

🎀 started cooking our dinner which was pork chop steak hihi

🎀 moosey finally got home, and then i was like 💖👁💋👁💖 yay! welcome hooooooome, lovey~ 💖👁💋👁💖

odiba!! ang dami talaga nangyari at ang dami ko talaga ginawa nyahahahahaha kaya grabe when i got to sleep, borlog to the max talaga me

[television-overload]

You ever have a bizarrely productive day and think... oh. Is this how it's supposed to be? Is this what it's like to be completely neurotypical?

I've gotta have ADHD or something because it takes the stars aligning just right for me to be like this. I'm talking the exact correct weather, day of the week, time of the month. One thing off and I'm getting nothing done.

Meanwhile today it was 70 degrees this morning and not a cloud in the sky. I opened the windows, played music on my record player, ate a real breakfast including fresh fruit on my balcony, then did laundry, cleaned my kitchen, swept and mopped the floors, vacuumed, did the dishes...

And went to the gym at my apartment for the first time??? Am currently sitting in a nice cold pool in 90 degree weather?? (Finally. It's been so cloudy.)

Anyway, will this ever happen again? Probably not, but it's nice while it lasts. It's crazy how much you can get done when your brain isn't paralyzed by all the different things you have to do, or waiting around for an event you've said you'll go to hours from now but for some reason will take the entire day to prepare for.