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#and dumps the entire hamper in the washer and starts it
cyberphuck · 1 year
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Collars Dot Com Ch 2: The Hammer of Thor
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(Back to Chapter One) I shut the lid on the washer, started the cycle, then leaned against it as it filled. To the left the dryer thumped steadily, sounding like a particularly monotonous wedding night.
I'd changed the sheets on the bed, stuffed my bachelor-smelling comforter in the washer, gathered up the long-neglected laundry pile, dragged the comforter back out of the washer in favor of washing the clothes first, scrubbed the bathroom, sanitized the kitchen, vacuumed the living room, collected six thousand sticky coffee mugs and empty soda cans from my desk, wiped down every flat surface, and nearly thrown up twice.
I sat down on the arm of the couch, putting a hand over my eyes to try and keep them from falling out of my skull. I smelled like bleach wipes and hangover sweat and the coffee I'd spilled down the front of my shirt two hours ago and all I really wanted was to lay facedown in bed and sleep until rigor mortis set in.
Some time between changing the pillow cases and gagging on bile, I'd opened the DoorDash app on my phone and ordered two bottles of Gatorade, two containers of fruit salad, and two more bottles of Gatorade in case the first two and the vitamin C from the fruit weren't enough to purge the tequila and idiocy from my body.
I did stupid things when I was drunk. That's what had ended my last relationship, hadn't it? I'd gone out for drinks with some of the guys from work, ended up doing jello shots with a bunch of college girls, and sent a picture of my dick to everyone on my contact list-- including my sister-- with the caption 'THE HAMMER OF THOR!'
I'd woken up the next morning with a variety of responses waiting for me. From my boss, 'you're lucky you're the only one I can rely on to turn in scripts on time,' and from Alyssa: 'I'm tired of your immature bullshit.'
My sister had sent a thumbs-up emoji.
It wasn't the first time Alyssa and me had gotten in an argument over how I spent my free time, and I thought an apology and giving her some space to cool off would keep things rattling along. Instead she dropped her copy of my apartment key in my mailbox, changed her relationship status on Facebook, and posted several memes about finding her flame and not letting anyone hold her back anymore.
Then lockdown had started, my entire department had been sent home to work remotely, all of my meals came from no-contact DoorDash deliveries, and if I wanted to hang out and drink with the guys from work, I had to do it over Zoom. I hadn't realized how much I'd relied on visits from Alyssa to motivate me to give a shit about what my apartment looked like until...
Well, until about 2pm today.
This was going to be the kick in the ass that I needed, I decided. I wasn't gonna keep the Pet I'd ordered, but I wasn't going to mix alcohol and online shopping again, either, and I was gonna clean up after myself and have people over again. Or better yet, go out. See people. Meet people. Shave every day.
Someone hit the buzzer in the downstairs lobby. I got up to hit the unlock button by the front door, got another whiff of stale coffee, and jogged into my bedroom to try to find a clean shirt so I didn't look like a complete slob for the DoorDash guy. I tossed the dirty shirt into the laundry corner, stopped, picked it up and put it into the hamper, and pulled on an ancient band tee, the screen printing long since faded away into nothing. By the time I emerged from the bedroom, DoorDash was already knocking.
Usually I only knew my order had arrived by the swish of a plastic bag being dumped on my mat and the driver's footsteps as he walked off. But I had to sign something, I guess. They'd used to make you sign for stuff, before. I turned the deadbolt and opened the door.
There was a boy standing there.
Blond hair, big eyes, freckles and a pretty mouth that was currently occupied by some kind of black rubber gag. Behind him was a man with a moving dolly stacked high with boxes labeled 'COLLARS.COM.' Behind him was pretty much every single one of my neighbors, all out to grab their mail and pick up their newspapers and check the hallway for werewolves at once.
Fuck.
"Delivery," the man said, looking supremely bored. "For--"
"Yeah, uh, yeah, come in," I said quickly, backing out of the doorway and holding the door wide. The boy stepped through first, then his chaperone with the dolly, and I thought about how I was going to have to either find a new apartment or somehow keep living in this one without ever making eye contact with any of my neighbors ever again.
The man set the dolly upright and plucked a chunky black device from his belt, shoving it at me. "Just use the pen to sign," he said, indicating a thin plastic stylus swinging from the device by a tether.
"Right, uh, so, there was kind of a--" I began weakly, trying to give the device back.
"Hit 'enter,'" the man said. The boy had been wearing a sort of black smock, tied at the back, and his chaperone was taking it off. The black pants came off too, and the boy was very much wearing absolutely nothing underneath them.
"This was-- I can't--" I tried again.
"Arms out," the man said to the boy, holding up his phone to take a picture. "Alright, turn." He glanced at me. "Press the pen down harder if it isn't doing it," he said.
"There has been," I said slowly and firmly, "a mistake."
The man looked at me. I looked back at him.
"Are you Brian Stink?" he asked.
"It's 'Stynch,'" I said automatically. "Listen, I bought all this by accident, I didn't really mean to--"
"The return policy is on the website," the man interrupted. "Can you sign the thing? I've got other deliveries."
"But I can't." A misshapen silence popped between us; I'd been expecting him to cut me off again. "I can't, uh, take him, really."
"I can't put him back in the van," the man said. "I've already sent Proof of Delivery to the dispatcher, and I can't just stick him back there while I finish all my other deliveries. By the time I got him back to the hub, all the handlers'd be gone for the day. Sign," he enunciated, "the thing."
"Alright, fine, fuck," I sighed, scribbling something approximate to my signature on the heavy device and watching it struggle to accept my name with technology from 1992. I slapped it back into the man's hand, trying to show my severe annoyance with him. He wasn't phased. "I'll see you again tomorrow when you come to pick him up," I told him.
"I'm off tomorrow." He yanked the dolly out from underneath the tower of shipping boxes and turned to let himself out. "Enjoy your purchase and have a nice day."
I glared at the closed door for a while, entertaining all my fantasies of letting his employers know I was Very Offended and that they had better do something to make up for it, and receiving an email from the CEO begging for my forgiveness.
Maybe even a phone call. We're so sorry. We're so sorry. The mean delivery driver has been reprimanded and fired-- no, that was too cruel, not with the economy the way it was. He probably had a family to feed. We have sat him down and told him he has been a Very Bad Boy. Yeah.
I locked the deadbolt. And the horse you rode in on, I thought viciously, turned around, and remembered there was an extremely undressed Pet standing next to my shoe rack. The room congealed around me a little, going from the hot soup of righteous anger to the greasy leftovers of what the fuck am I going to do now in an instant.
God, he looked good.
I had been expecting him to be a little plainer than the profile picture I'd glimpsed in a drunken haze the night before. Nobody was supposed to look as perfect as their headshots, that's what Photoshop was for. But there he was, smooth and blemishless, the same buttery curls, the sprinkling of freckles like cinnamon on a macchiato. The mouth, which was still stoppered by the rubber gag whose straps were beginning to leave red marks in his cheeks. He swallowed awkwardly around it and looked at me.
I stepped forward, reaching behind his head and feeling for a clasp. The strap was stiff and new, the price tag still stuck across the cheap plastic. "This thing smells like a used tire shop," I muttered, picking the tag off and undoing the buckle. "Probably tastes like one too."
I pulled the gag out of his mouth. It was a couple inches long, wet and slick where it'd been pressing against his tongue. I wrinkled my nose at it and set it on top of the boxes. They could take that back, too. "How long have you had that thing in your mouth? Do you want a glass of water?"
The boy's mouth puckered; he wiped saliva off his chin with the back of his hand. "Yes, please."
I went to the kitchen, took down a glass, turned on the tap and let in run until it was cold. My coffee mugs were still piled in the sink, looking at me accusingly with sticky eyes. I ignored them and returned to the living room to find the boy standing just where I'd left him.
"Here." I put the glass in his hands. "Come on and sit on the couch."
I discovered, then, that it was possible for someone to sensually drink a glass of plain tap water. The movement of his throat and the sound of his swallowing was almost obscene. Maybe it was just because he was naked, or because I knew what he was for, but the lovely pink mouth was definitely in the lead for 'reasons I was about to make decisions with my dick.' I knew, when I reached out, that just touching his mouth wouldn't be enough. I promised myself I just wanted to feel the shape of it, his lips against the ball of my thumb, but I had wanted that mouth since I saw it on the website, had clicked yes and yes and  yes because I hadn't cared what I'd have to pay to get it. I cupped my palm against his cheek and he leaned into it, looking at me, and I was pushing forward without looking at the price.
I kissed him because I wanted to feel the softness of his lips, the texture of them against my tongue, the sweet sound as we parted. There was a little hesitation when he opened his mouth to mine, as if he wasn't quite sure of it, like the sensation of my tongue against his was new for him. I held him still with a hand against the nape of his neck, where the finest curls of his hair tickled against my fingers, and let him get used to what it felt like to be kissed by me.
By the time I let him go, his breath had gone a little short and there was color in his cheeks and down his neck to his collarbone. His lips were still slightly parted, and I slid my thumb into his mouth. He made a soft sound as I pressed down on his tongue and bottom lip. He made that sound again when I pulled him forward for another kiss, and he slipped off the couch and down to his knees in front of me before I could even form an image of what I wanted.
Now he was looking up at me through his eyelashes and wetting his upper lip with his tongue. I took his chin in my hand because-- I don't know, I wanted to look at him, wanted to stay in the moment of anticipation forever, but with my other hand I took out my stiffening cock for him because I wanted it in his mouth.
He took the head between his lips, delicately, like kissing the first bite of a ripe peach, tongueing the flesh. He took the shaft in his hand and drew upward and I felt a throb of pleasure, my cock bobbing when he pulled away. He looked up at me again and I watched him take me into his mouth in one long, delicious slide, lips and tongue working as he sucked. He lifted his head, taking in a breath, then down again and I could feel myself in the back of his throat. Another shudder of pleasure, releasing in a groan.
I leaned my head back, listening to the sound of his mouth on my cock and riding each rise in tension, each a little bit stronger, a little bit longer than the last. I held my breath to make the pleasure hit deeper, letting it out when I was coming close to the edge. My back and thighs were tensing, wanting to thrust upwards; it began as a soft rhythm, then grew more and more insistent until I braced a hand against the back of his head to fuck his mouth.
I twisted my fingers into his hair, fucking into the friction I wanted, faster and harder, trying to come up short before I climaxed but tumbling over the edge anyway, coming hard with a hoarse, cracked groan.
I felt him swallow twice, then wrap his fingers around my aching cock and pull slowly upwards. I sucked in a breath, wincing, and put out a hand to stop him before he yanked my organs out of my body. "Enough," I panted. "Enough. I'm done, I'm good." He let me go. I took a few more steadying breaths, blinking up at the ceiling,  and alternated saying "god" and "fuck" a half dozen times until I was able to think clearly again. It might have been several hours. I don't know. When I finally pulled myself together, I looked down at him still kneeling there.
"So," I said. "What's your name?"
He smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. "My name is Ren." Kofi - Donate - AO3
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brokestminimalist · 3 years
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Broke Laundry: updated 2021
For the time being, let's skip talking about how almost all of us have too many clothes.   The clothes that you have get dirty, and must be washed.  I am going to assume you have access to a modern washing machine, either at your house or a laundromat. We'll call step one sorting:
Sorting: Ain’t nobody got time for this.  This is an extra chore that is 99% not necessary.  Unless you have specialty fabrics or are particular about how white your whites are, it’s just added  stress and a waste of time.  I don't actually own any white clothes anymore, but if I did I'd run a load of whites with a cup of bleach once a month. I do not own things that can’t survive the washing machine, either.  No delicates, no dry cleaning.  I wash towels with clothes, and sheets together with bedspreads. Cleaning rags and towels have their own basket and get washed when it gets full.
Laundry Detergent: Avoid the very cheapest for the sake of your darks, but there is no need to spring for the most expensive thing on the shelf.  In fact, I make laundry detergent from one part washing soda, one part Borax, and one part soap. A double batch is enough detergent to last three months for a single person. Good recipes can be had all over the internet, so go forth and find yourself one.  If you’re washing in cold water and your tap water is very cold, such as in the winter, you may find it necessary to stir your homemade detergent into a cup of hot water before putting it into the machine. Out of detergent?  A spoonful of dish soap will do in a pinch.  Regardless of whether you’re using store bought or homemade, don’t use too much detergent; it’s bad for the machine, the environment, and your clothes.  We do not want to buy new clothes until we absolutely have to, right?  Right.
Fabric Softener: I recently saw a headline about how Millennials are killing the fabric softener industry.  The truth is, they are prioritizing groceries and lights over luxuries like Downy.  If you must have it and can afford it, go ahead.  Measure carefully but don’t dilute unless the package says so.  Fabric softener sheets are a good alternative, if you are using a dryer.  Here at Brokest Minimalist, we use a Downy ball with white vinegar in it.  The vinegar cuts soap residue, softens most fabrics, and is much cheaper.  Plus it’s versatile enough to be used for cleaning as well.  An added bonus is that it doesn’t reduce the absorbency of your towels like regular fabric softener does.
Water:  Set your washer on Tap Cold. Yes, really.  Unless your clothes are very greasy, almost anything can be washed in cold water and will get just as clean.  It isn’t so much the temperature of the water or even the detergent that does the washing, as much as it is the action of the clothes rubbing against each other inside the machine.  Anything that’s machine washable can be washed in cold water, period.
Settings: On our machine at home, clothes go on “casual” and sheets/bedspreads on “heavy duty”. Don’t stress too much about this.  Choose a water level that is appropriate to how full the machine is, add your stuff, and go ahead.
Drying:  Here at Brokest Minimalist, we don’t dry anything in the dryer.  Why?  Because air dries stuff for free, that’s why.  Clothes dryers are one of the most frivolous uses of electricity in the modern world.  They are also one of the number one causes of fire in the United States, after candles and cooking fires.  Unless you are in a huge hurry, hang your clothes to dry. Outdoors if possible, as sun dried clothing smells much better than any fabric softener does.  You don’t even have to spend all afternoon pinning stuff to a clothesline like your great-grandma did, either! Our system is beautiful in its simplicity.  We take our clothes out of the washing machine, hang them on clothes hangers, and then hang the hangers on the clothesline.  If you have a smooth line, tie knots in it or use clothespins to keep stuff from sliding back and forth in the breeze.  If you don’t have a line, put one up or buy a portable or retractable one. In summer your clothes will be dry within an hour in direct sunlight, which is a comparable time to many dryers.  If it’s raining, you can hang them indoors over curtain rods, from your mantel, or on your shower curtain rod.  Even if it’s freezing outside, in direct sunlight your clothes will dry within a few hours. For free.  No kidding.  And UV light is a great sanitizer if you’re worried about germs! Here we hang our and towels and unmentionables on racks purchased from Amazon, such as this and this.  Another tidbit we have figured out, is that there is no need to wait until daylight to hang your clothes. In the old days it was nigh unheard of, but there’s no harm.  The morning dew won’t make your wet clothes wetter.   Do you work nights?  Do a load of laundry after you get home from work and hang it out to dry, even if it’s midnight.  It will be dry by lunchtime tomorrow.   This saves wear and tear on your clothes, it saves electricity, it won’t create extra static like the dryer, and hanging stuff is kind of a nice, meditative way to spend a few minutes. Take some deep breaths of fresh air, reflect on your day, let go of some anxiety.
Does all of this sound too complicated? Written down it’s a lot, but let us take you through a load of laundry we just did.  For the record, it is currently one o'clock in the morning.  It’s 31 degrees outside.
1) Put clothes in washer.  Not sorted, just all the clothes in the hamper or off your floordrobe, dumped into the washing machine.
2) It’s cold out, so put a tablespoon of detergent into a cup of hot water and stir.  Pour in washer. Put white vinegar in Downy ball, toss in washer.
3) Push start button and go do something else.  Read, take a nap, cook, clean bathroom. Write a long-winded Tumblr post.  Whatever.
4) When load is done, hang everything on hangers/racks still wet.  This is the longest part, and it takes 5-7 minutes, max. You can do it while watching tv or listening to music.
5) Carry your hung up clothes outdoors to the clothesline and hang them up, or to whatever indoor location you have deemed fit if it is raining.
These will be dry in a few hours except for very heavy things like thing hoodies or jeans, those may take longer.  Yes, even if it’s cool outside.  As long as there is direct sunlight, they will dry.  When you’re ready, bring them in. All the clothes are already on hangers, so just stick them in your closet.
Once upon a time we had a lot of drama about laundry.  We had fights over whose turn it was, how much Tide to put in, and who was going to clean the lint trap.  When the dryer broke, I absolutely agonized over the three hundred dollars it would take to buy a new one.  That three hundred dollars meant going without cable for two months, it meant scrimping for groceries and paying a late fee on the phone bill.  It was more than an entire paycheck, just to dry clothes!
Today that same dryer is sitting in our laundry room in disuse.  We have it, for emergencies.  A drink spilled on a work shirt, perhaps, that needs to be worn in 30 minutes.  It’s good for fluffing up pillows, on the no-heat setting. It wasn’t worth the stress or the tears or the three hundred dollars we put into it all those years ago.  It’s basically a glorified shelf for our detergent now:
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So today, I challenge you, broke person.  Don’t wear those grungy jeans for one more day.   Do a load of laundry, as frugally as you can.  Measure your detergent carefully, hang your clothes to dry.  Your clothes will last longer, your utility bill will be lower, and you will have a few minutes of peace and quiet outside.  It’s less wear and tear, less electricity, and less stress, and that’s a minimalist win.
If you do choose to dry your clothes in a dryer, beware of over-drying as that can cause static and extra wear and tear on your clothes.  Clean out your lint trap, it will make your clothes dry faster and reduce the risk of fire.  If you are too broke to have dryer sheets, wool dryer balls are pretty cheap and effective for fabric softening and reducing static.  We have also heard that you could use tennis balls or a couple balls of wadded up aluminum foil for this purpose.
Happy washing!
Some links: homemade detergent at TSD, and Mr. Electricity’s opinion on dryers.
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lovely-necromancy · 3 years
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A Cure for Insomnia CH.6
You wake up sometime around one. Not too late in the day given your morning. With a decent amount of sleep under your belt you roll over and start striping your bed of its sheets. Then you make your way across your room, picking up stray clothes as you go to your hamper and dump your collection of dirty linens and clothes into it. You carry the hamper to the bathroom where you load half into the washer. There's no real point in separating the clothes from colored items and pastels or whites. You're only twenty-four and don't have your life totally figured out yet. You can be a little lazy with laundry.
Once your first load of laundry is being washed you go to do your weekly tidy of your home. The one good thing that came from the paranoia of your car's break in was you rearranged all the furniture of the home, thus cleaning as you went. So that means it's more of a quick wipe down of counters and sweeping today. Maybe you'd organize your art supplies while doing your laundry. It's an activity that wouldn't distract you too much and make you forget you had laundry in the wash.
You finish washing the dishes from this morning you begin wiping the counters and tabletop when you notice your fidget cube is still on the table where Toby left it earlier.
'Don't want to lose this. Back to the bookshelf where you belong.' When you get to the living room's bookshelf you notice one of your book's is missing. Ironically it's The Book Thief.
'Tobias probably picked it up and put it down somewhere.' you'd keep your eyes peeled for the book while you cleaned.
After wiping down bookshelves, tables, counters, even the mantel over the fire place you still hadn't found your missing book. You probably picked it right up and placed it right back down without even realizing. You'll just keep an eye out until you find it. You don't even reread books, you really just kept a copy to lend out to people when they ask what your favorite books are. It isn't a real big deal if you can't find it, plus there's bound to be a copy floating somewhere in a thrift shop or yard sale.
The washer chimes right as you grab the broom to sweep. Pausing this task to go retrieve your laundry and do the rest. You empty the dirty clothes left in the basket onto the floor and place the clean wet ones inside the basket. After starting the final load you carry the basket out back. As nice as this home is its still small and doesn't have a dryer, which early summer is fine but come fall and winter might be more cumbersome. Seeing as you have to hang the laundry out to dry outside. Maybe when it gets cold you'll just do smaller loads and hang them up in the bathroom or over the fire place. But that's a thought for future you. Right now current you is struggling yet again to get a fitted sheet to sit on the line. Fitted sheets are probably Satan himself in disguise.
When you finish stringing all the laundry up you take a moment to just enjoy the quiet and the peace that comes with the outside. It's nice out here, maybe after you finish the last few chores today you can come out and just draw, it'd be a good way to also keep an eye on this weather in case it turns. While it hasn't happened yet you're very aware of the risks you take by ignoring the existence of meteorologists. And by that you mean just not bothering to look up the weather for the day.
Heading back inside you restart your task of sweeping. Like you thought you've finished before the washer has even completed it's first cycle. The house isn't too big so it's easy to clean it from top to bottom within a day normally, but today you had even less to do thanks to this week's rearranging. So you move on to organizing your art supplies and separating all materials by medium.
Of course arranging materials is never easy, after all you end up staring at all your horded empty sketch books and note how your thumbnail notebooks are just covered in doodles and random scribbles but no real art or ideas. Maybe it's time to start kicking yourself into gear. You ran into a major period of burnout before moving and now with this fresh start you might be able to focus on progressing with art, even if you don't pursue it as a career. You've always loved the ability to draw and create images that make others happy. But right in this moment you just want to make yourself happy. Maybe you could start small just a few still lifes and see how you feel after that.
Hearing the chime of the washer you hurry to finish putting away the supplies in their newly assigned places. Just as before you transfer the wet and clean clothes into the awaiting basket and take them out to be hung to dry. You don't have another fitted sheet this go round so it goes by much faster than it previously had. Now with all of your washing for today hung you head back inside to grab a fresh sketchbook.
Having never been one for scenery, more of a portrait artist, you start off with small things. A few stills of a flower under the window, the old tire swing on the tree, and even the blue jay that dove for dinner right in front of you. Of course all of these were warm ups done in a few minutes, though you really wish you had more time on the blue jay one. You really need practice with things that aren't people.
The warm ups of course don't look very good, but you can still see what you'd been going for. The hatching and smudging you'd done, to increase depth and give the quick drawing more life, did help a little but it was clear this was an area where you weren't skilled. But that didn't deter you, after all you  needed more practice and wouldn't be getting better without it.
Deciding to draw the scene before you, a small open meadow surrounded by trees, in other words your backyard with your drying laundry. You start off slow and make sure to actually look and take in the yard in front of you, doing your best to not just make up the trees and their shapes as you go. Soon you are lost in the meditative muscle memory of drawing. The scratching of pencil scrapping across paper further lulling you into a trance like state as you etch out the scenery.
A harsh breeze blows through and the loud flapping of sheet hitting sheet knocks you loose from your trance. Checking to make sure none of your laundry was flying off, it hadn't the laundry was still secured to the line. Smiling you glance down to actually see what you've sketched out so far. It isn't too bad, though you aren't sure how long you've been working on it, the trees all have a distinct shape rather than your typical cartoon one size fits all attempts. Scanning the page your eyes catch onto something off, out in the tree line it looks like you'd drawn a figure hiding behind a tree.
Hearing the beating of your heart that's currently hammering against your chest you look around. Did your mind do that as a joke or had someone genuinely been watching you draw? Your mouth is dry as your eyes scan the tree line for any sign of what could've been mistaken for a person, but you saw nothing. No one was there. Had anyone ever really been there? Why would you draw that? Why wouldn't you remember doing it? You don't feel safe out here anymore. There are eyes watching you you can feel it. They may not physically be there but the phantom eyes that surround you and cause your skin to crawl make sure you know of their presence. You take that as a sign to head inside for the evening, one that doesn't need to be repeated.
You lock the door immediately behind you and check your phone. It's seven, and you have an email notification. Thanking whatever power for the distraction you slide down your back door and open the notification. It's from Hollis!
YN r u  coming to SND? It's that teen beach zombie movie u love. Y;know the awful D list one Blk and wht with the 50yos playing teenagers
Lemme know I'll save your seat.
Sent 6:47 P.M.
They're so sweet to remember you loved this awful D list zombie movie. Horrible subplots and main plot and all. But you're a little spooked right now and watching even that joke of a horror movie is probably too much for you. You doubt you'd feel better by the time ten rolls around to watch it. Not to mention your battery's still drained from Toby this morning. And knowing for a fact you'd probably stay late to talk till morning with Hollis, Jake, and Kirby you decide it's best to skip this week. Just not having the energy to handle Saturday Night Dead.
Nah, sorry man. Battery's dead from being social earlier. Thanks tho, I do appreciate you! ….....,.... lemme know what next week's movie is!
Sent 7:10 P.M.
It'd probably be a good time to make something for dinner, there's a box of mac n cheese in the pantry. Simple but always beloved. As you wait for Hollis to respond you start on boiling water. But you didn't have to wait too long since they'd answered near instantly.
Chill, don worry we'll catch ya next week
…..oooop
ot not...Kirb's said it's the start of watching the entire warren file collection
starting from the beginning
...well the first movie released, Insidious. LOL we probs won't ever see you again.
Sent 7:12 P.M.
How dare Kirby betray you like this. First off those movies are awful, and like not cheesy awful just awful awful. Not to mention he knows how you feel about the Warrens and their cases. You have a power point presentation ready for that dick the next time you see him. ...well not literally but you'd make one to prove a point!
Where's Kirby now? I just wanna talk, I just wanna talk is all.
Sent 7:18 P.M.
Already ran off toy vermont probably
will we get blessed with a ted talk nxt week?
Sent 7:20 P.M.
I can't tell if you're joking or not. If you aren't then yea I can make a power point and we'll play that instead of the movies. Every week until this town understands the severity of this.
Sent 7:21 P.M.
Ya just jkin.
Your passionate hate is funny tho, so could be good to do something mid warren marathon.
Sent 7:23 P.M.
Guess the dissertation on how horrendous the “exorcisms” were will have to wait. They'd just been joking. This is probably a good ending of the conversation anyway, it's hard to tell sometimes but you feel you'll just run in circles with the current topic or worse fall into a rant that they won't read all the way through because they'll have left with the rest of the stunt gang to get dinner before heading over to the Cryptonomica for Saturday Night Dead. Hollis is typically a real good sport about this kinda thing but you'd rather not bog down their night with your hate boner for the Warrens.
'I'll let them know later that I'll still come to Saturday Night Dead next week.' you think as you dump the pasta into the water that finally came to a boil. It's quiet as you cook your macaroni dinner. You'd normally not notice the lack of sound or life in your home before, but maybe having Connor and Toby over put things into perspective. Guests aren't really a thing you've ever had, you always feel rude if your social battery runs out before someone's stay is over. But maybe you're lonely, and it's put you on edge.
Though this week would've put anyone on edge, you have still been alone in this house for two months. That can't be healthy for your mental well being, humans are social creatures by nature after all. Maybe you could get a pet, something that'd make it's fair share of noise and give the home a bit more life than your normally hollow shell wondering the halls. Are you even sure you want a pet? Do you have time for one? You have the standard nine to five, but what about when you're off on a nightly trip because of your sleeplessness? What if you forgot about them? Hell your brain's been so foggy these last few months, it wouldn't be surprising.
Like a sign from the divine themselves, the pot of water boils over. Steam is rising as the sizzling is heard. Your head snaps twice to the right as you scramble to lower the heat and raise the pot off the eye. Putting it down on an unused eye you give it a quick stir and thankfully no pasta got burned to the bottom of the pan....this time. The pasta seems a little crunchy but a texture you'll eat so you kill the hot eye and start on the cheese portion of your mac n cheese.
As you eat you continue your original debate about getting a pet. Ultimately deciding that you just aren't ready for that kind of responsibility right now. Sure you'd had tons of pets in your parents' home but that was with a financial safety net and back when your mental health wasn't all over the place. Not to mention the pets were family pets and responsibility was split three ways.
There isn't much room in your home for you to have a roommate, and that presents a whole nother set of challenges. You could try to make friends through online forums again! It's hard to talk to people in general but you always get scared off before replying to a comment or post. Or overshare to the point people infantize you. Even better trying therapy out could help with your loneliness. Hah ok good one, even if you had money for it consistently you don't think you could trust someone knowing all your secrets but not knowing any of theirs. And while that in and of it self is an example of why you need it, you're rational enough to realize you aren't ready for that either.
After finishing your meal you put away the left overs and clean the dishes. You'll be happier tomorrow knowing they aren't your problem to deal with. You start to make your way to your bedroom but freeze just before the hall.
'You shouldn't stay here...you need to leave.'
A glance at the time tells you it's eight thirty-nine, if you left right now you could make it to Saturday Night Dead with time to spare. You don't need to fill the loneliness with new friends, just spend time with the ones you already have. Duh. Turning you grab your keys off the bookshelf and take one of the masks hanging from a hook by the door.
Checking your door was locked and locking your car once you were in, you're ready to drive. Knowing you're still overstimulated you forgo the music on this drive, hoping it will calm you down enough to enjoy the movie and some down time with friends. And that would help put a pin in your self isolating habits. It'd really be nice if you brought movie snacks over to surprise the gang. You're pretty sure the mini mart carries everything you need. Jake likes swedish fish, Hollis is addicted to those extreme sour airhead ropes, and Kirby's a weirdo with his love of red vines and surge. Hahaha that man will die before he's thirty-eight.
Still having the extra time you deiced to stop by the mini mart and grab the candy. What's the worse that can happen you have another panic attack in front of strangers. Plus you hadn't seen Magnolia the last few times and you'd hate for her to think you'd been ignoring her. Pulling into the empty mini mart parking lot you take a breath to steel your resolve before leaving your car.
Tim looks at the door when he hears the chime and stiffens when he sees you. Fuck you did have a panic attack in front of this guy last night, plus you really haven't formally met. But didn't Toby say his roommate was named Tim? And he and Brian were both here talking with Tim last night before you came in. That can't be coincidence.
“uh...hi?” you say awkwardly standing in the doorway, door closed behind you.
“um, hi?” perfect he's just as awkward in this situation as you are. You can work with this.
Moving through the first two isles you keep your eyes peeled for Magnolia, even though you can make this an in and out trip for candy, you do miss the little bodega cat.
“Wh- hey are you, are you even ok to be here?” Tim calls as he rounds the counter and makes his way to you.
“Huh? Oh...oh yea. I'm chill now.” you hear the bell before you see her. The little ting tin ting of her bell that comes with the grace only fluffy cats have.
“You literally collapsed on the floor last night after blacking out while driving.” his tone is very stern. He and Nate would probably get on like a house on fire. The grumpy old men who secretly care a lot duo.
“I don't remember collapsing...but I know I didn't drive.” well you don't know that but you do firmly believe that.
The man is just turning into the isle when you spot the floof sauntering just behind him. Magnolia didn't spare either of you a glance as she made her way to the counter. Probably going to her bed, an old shipping box for apples, you'd just meet her over there then. With no warning to the man you squeeze past him and and follow the cat. Agitated footsteps following after you in your quest to pet the cat.
Magnolia perks up upon seeing you, the flicking of her tail letting you know she's anticipating her pets. The huffing Tim hovering behind you isn't as pleased with your actions as the cat is. The man is radiating negativity, annoyance maybe or is it concern that breeds frustrated anger? The second he starts to clear his throat, as if to remind you of his hovering, you roll your eyes.
Looking back at him over your shoulder you see him in all his grumpy man glory.  His brow was furrowed so hard his thick eyebrows nearly covered his eyes. But with the way his lips emoted the man before you looked more like a pouting muppet. It would be funny if it weren't for the foreboding feeling of the moments before being reprimanded by a teacher.
When you straighten up you take note that your eyes meet perfectly. He's the same height as you that's surprising, you thought he'd be taller than 5'7. His eyes widen slightly at seeing your full height, it must've thrown him off since the first time he saw you, you'd actively been trying, and had succeeded at looking smaller.
“What are you doing here?” well he doesn't get thrown off for long.
Running a hand through Magnolia's fur a few more times as you respond, “Petting Magnolia.” you really are a little shit sometimes.
“No...no, why are you out? Toby had to take you home last night, you shouldn't just be waltzing around town after that.” maybe it was frustrated concern.
“Oh I'm fine now.”
Magnolia at this point has jumped up on the counter and is headbutting you for more attention. Chuckling you turn your attention back to her. Meanwhile Tim behind you is at a loss for words.
“Fine?? You don't just...bounce back from a panic attack.”there's personal experience behind those words.
“I just rationalize things fast.” Hearing the trill of the clock on the wall reminds you that you need to grab those snacks and head over to the Cryptonomica for movie night.
Going to the candy isle you grab one of each of the gang's favorites, you snag a bag of white cheddar popcorn on the way to the counter and place your items there. Tim doesn't get a word out before you rush off to the cooler near the back that is in all honesty pretty sketch. Like who even makes  Fruitopia anymore? That stuff got discontinued in the early 2000s. The cooler even has Hi-C Ecto Coolers...you might actually check if they're in date and grab a few.
Rummaging around the cooler you finally spot the weird tech green and black splattered can proudly stating SURGE. It has no date...questionable at best. But hey it's only Kirby drinking it, and it's been well established that man will die well before middle age.   Grabbing a can to check the Ecto Coolers, luck is on your side! These cans are from the re-release that happened as a promotion for the Ghostbusters revival a few years back, they'll be good for another two years! For now you'll just take one so you won't have to worry about lugging cans around for the movie.
Once your new items are placed on the counter the expression on Tim's face cannot even be described. The questions of the surge are probably the ones easiest to read...or they're just the most predictable.
“Kirby likes red vines and surge, sickening right?” Maybe a little joke will break the ice.
“...Like that little round pink...thing?”  What?
The laughter is coming out before you can stop it, the image of said pink Kirby consuming red vines and surge only to accessorize as your friend comes to mind. It's adorable and cursed at the same time. Adorably cursed. You'll have to draw that and print a few copies to hang around the Cryptonomica.
“No,” you're choking on giggles at this point, “Kirby, the owner of the Cryptonomica.” catching your breath and regaining your composure, “It's that tourist trap just across from the RV park.”
“Oh.” normally such a short cold reply would make you shut down the conversation. But This is Toby's roommate, and if you want to be friends with Toby, you'll probably run into him a lot more. Plus if he's a new night shift cashier it wouldn't hurt to be on good terms with him for when you're out on adventures.
“Yea, hey Toby mentioned you three just came to town, so you might not have known but the Cryptonomica does a weekly movie night on Saturdays. Saturday Night Dead. Normally it's awful old horror movies but next week they're starting a Warren Case files “arch”.” Tim doesn't take the conversation bait at the pause.
“It's a great way to meet other locals, you guys should check it out if you get the chance. It starts at ten and runs till one or so on most weeks.” Olive branch has been extended.
Tim relaxes for the first time since you got here tonight. The sheepish look on his face and twitchy pupils give the impression he's thinking it over. He sighs and nods before saying, “Yea, that sounds...nice.”
Olive branch skeptically taken! You'll count this one as a win in your book. With the mood lightened Tim breaks the ice a bit further.
“Surge and red vines can not be good for you.”
“Right! If living off mountain dew and pizza rolls doesn't kill him, this for sure will.” you both have a small laugh at that. It's nice to finally have cleared up the mix up from the beginning of the week. Which reminds you.
“Oh...um...I'm YN by the way. It's nice to meet you...sorry for the two,” your neck tics to the side, “previous nights.” you finish.
“Tim...and it,uh happens sometimes...'s fine.” Score awkward acknowledgment of previous meetings and you can now erase those from your nightly anxieties.
Tim finishes ringing and bagging your items and you pay. Giving another pet to the curled up kitty on the counter you nod farewell to Tim.
A trill rings out from the clock on the wall. It's ten.
Two heads snap to look at the wall. You take a second glance at your phone while Tim checks his watch. Both say the clock on the wall is correct. But it just turned nine not even ten minutes ago. Right? You can brush off yourself loosing track of time but when you involve another person that just doesn't make sense. Tim looks just as concerned as you. Only Magnolia lays unaffected by the lost fifty minutes.
“I should go.” Tim nods numbly to you as you exit the store.
You won't be able to make it to the movie, well you could but you'd disturb someone if you walked in mid movie. Choosing to go home instead you drive, once again without music. Entering your home you hang your mask back on the hook. Putting away the drinks and snacks for next weekend, you make your way to your bedroom. Once again freezing just before the hallway. Turning to your living room you can see a book in the middle of your coffee table. You definitely don't remember the book being there, and doubt you'd miss it out in the open. But as you got closer you could confirm, even in the dark, that it was The Book Thief.
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gingerwritess · 5 years
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“I already have no pants on-“ “NO!” 😂😂😂
you asked for it @lokislilcaribbeanprincess @iamverity @skydiving-without-a-parachute
domestic dad loki topped with a dollop of fluffy breeding kink yeah that’s a thing
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Two kids.
You’ve changed all the diapers, fed them both, cleaned up after them, done your time.
Frigg is barely four and Loki already wants another.
“But a baby,” he pleads, striding along next to you, “both our children are growing older. I can’t carry Elliot anymore, Frigg…it’s just not the same, I want a baby.”
“You know that baby will just grow up again, right?”
“Yes.” Loki grins as you come to a halt in the laundry room, setting the hamper down with a huff.
“And what happens once that baby’s four?” You start sorting through the dirty clothes, pulling the remains of a chocolate bar out of a jeans pocket. “Oh, god, Elliot…chocolate melts…”
“Then we have another, of course.” Loki grabs another pair of jeans and starts checking the pockets as well. “Then that one grows up, and we have another, then that one grows, and we have another—”
“My uterus hurts just thinking about that.”
“But more babies, darling,” he sighs, tossing the pair of little jeans in the washer. “More little you and I’s, crawling around and—”
“And terrorising us,” you cut in, “wrecking this entire house and keeping us awake, keeping us from each other for months on end, then they grow up and we have to feed them and send them to school and raise them and we’ll never have a full night’s rest for the rest of our lives.”
You wait for Loki to sigh, realise how absurd his proposal is, but he just gives you a dreamy smile and throws another dirty sock in the washer.
“The more you speak,” he murmurs, leaning towards you, “the more I just want to impregnate you.”
Aha.
“Okay…so this is just your breeding kink talking?”
“I’ve told you, I don’t have a breeding kink,” he hums, kissing the tip of your nose and plucking the shirt out of your hands. “I just want to have an endless number of children with you, fill your belly with my seed time and time again, and raise children of our creation for years on end.”
“Right.” You jab an elbow into his side, dumping the rest of the clothes in the washer and hoisting the hamper back onto your hip. “Totally not a breeding kink.”
The next morning, Loki wakes you the way he does best.
You’re not complaining, you never could, but when he tries to convince you that “breakfast” is a perfectly viable excuse to be late to work, you shove him off the bed and all but hurl a pair of pants at him.
“Don’t get me pregnant,” you warn him as he laughs, pointing a finger in his face. “Don’t you dare, you have to keep saying that spell thing, okay? We are not in agreement about this ‘more babies’ issue, Loki, do not get me—”
“Shh…” he surges toward you, molding his lips to yours and chasing you back onto the pillows. “Don’t worry, you know I would never do that to you.”
Of course you know that.
“Just making sure,” you giggle, and you try to no avail to squirm out from under him.
“Doesn’t mean we can’t have some fun…” lips latching onto your neck, he growls playfully and rolls you on top of him, keeping you tight against him as you laugh and push him away.
With a tongue that, ah, skilled, you might’ve given in by the time he was done, but your bedroom door crashes open and your two lovely kids barge in, leaving you and Loki scrambling for the sheets.
“I didn’t do nothin’,” Frigg is yelling over and over, holding onto Elliot arm as he drags her behind him. “I didn’t do nothin’!!”
“Frigg froze the milk,” Elliot seethes, a little blue in the face. “I’m gonna be late for school if she doesn’t quit it—”
You kick Loki under the blanket. Your turn.
“Uhh…”
“Great parenting,” you groan, sitting up and keeping the sheet tight under your chin. “Frigg, unfreeze the milk, don’t do that to Elliot. Elliot, don’t drag your sister like that—”
“She won’t let go of me!” He shakes his arm to prove his point, and sure enough, Frigg refuses to let go and just giggles. “See? This is all her, I didn’t do this.”
“Elliot, she’s four,” Loki sighs, rubbing his eyes. “Just give her another cookie and tell her to read a book.”
“She can’t read yet, that doesn’t—”
“Shhhhh.” Loki yawns and flops back on his pillow, a cool hand stroking down your bare back. “It’ll work, trust me.”
A look of disbelief crosses his face, but Frigg yells “BOOK” and he trudges out of your room, slamming your door and dragging his little leech of a sister along behind him.
You roll on top of Loki before he can get another word out, pinning his arms by his head. “This is why we can’t have another kid. If you’d rather have another baby than spend our mornings like this, then fine, but really think about it.”
He closes his eyes, a stupid little smile on his stupid beautiful face, and runs his hands up and down your thighs. “I do like this,” he decides, “but…I still think we can manage both.”
With that, he flips you over and you let out a surprised yelp as he peppers your face with kisses.
“Your go-to method—mmph—” you try to push him away, but he just dives back for your lips with even more ferocity. “—can’t be t—Loki! God, calm down!”
“Sorry,” he laughs, chest heaving as he hovers over you. “What were you saying, my love?”
You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, half-heartedly glaring up at him. “Your go-to method of parenting can’t be to just give them a cookie and shut them up.”
“And…why not?” He flicks his tongue over your pouting lips, much to your unamusement. “It seems to give us enough time to do this.”
“This,” you reach around him and smack his ass before shoving him off of you, “is not happening. We both have work.”
“But br—”
“DON’T SAY BREAKFAST.”
He follows you to the bathroom, trailing behind you like the little attention-starved puppy he is.
“I’m not saying that our lives would significantly improve if you were pregnant again,” he says, leaning against the counter and watching you start brushing your teeth, “but, consider if you were.”
“I’d ‘e puking err’where.”
“Not necessarily.”
“I’d ‘e ‘UGE.”
“No, you’d be pleasantly plump,” Loki chuckles, pinching your side and getting a fist to the groin in return. “Oof…hold on, you didn’t let me finish!”
Looking threatening with a mouthful of toothpaste is difficult, but you think you did alright.
“I’ve made it quite clear just how…appealing pregnancy looks on you, my love.”
“You kinky little shit.” You spit out your toothpaste and glare at him. “I’m not getting pregnant just ‘cause you’ve got a kink.”
“It’s not that!” He trails after you, following as you stalk to the closet and rifle around for some clothes. “I happen to enjoy raising children with you.”
“Oh, do you? I’m so glad! Put a shirt on.”
“Look,” Loki sighs, catching the shirt you threw at him and slipping it on. “Our children are my entire life. You know this. They’ve consumed me and I love it.”
“I know you love them.” You wrestle on your pants, hopping around until they’re pulled up to your waist properly. “And I love you, Loki, and I’d love to just pop out babies for us, but let’s be reasonable. We can’t…we can’t do that.”
“Did you know that I think of our children as living proof of your love?” Loki’s gaze drops to his fidgeting hands.
You pause, glancing at your husband. He’s gone silent, waiting for your response and probably wishing he hadn’t “admitted” to having emotions.
“You’re an idiot,” you sigh, shaking your head and walking over to him, laying your palms on each side of his face. “You really still need proof, Loki?”
His half-smile is sheepish, almost guilty. “I…well, sometimes I get scared.”
You thought there might be more to this.
“Talk to me, Loki.”
“I don’t—” he groans and rubs his eyes. “It’s complicated?”
“Hey.” Tugging him towards you, you softly press your lips to his, thumbs brushing his cheekbones. “We’re masters of complicated, remember?”
“Mmm.”
“Please talk to me.”
“Impossible when you kiss me like that,” he mumbles, eyes closed and forehead resting on yours.
“You’re trying to distract me and it’s never worked, snowflake.”
“Fine.” He breaks away and takes your hands in his, eyes downcast. “I’m a very…ah, insecure person.”
“Right.”
“And the fact that you were willing to have two children with me,” he presses your entwined hands to his chest, “not just one, but two…I just can’t fathom that it’s my true reality.”
You wrap your arms around his waist and pull him into a tight hug. “Keep going?”
“I don’t understand how you could claim to love me as much as you do,” he continues quietly, resting his head on yours as his arms wind around you. “I gave you two children that turn blue. Two monsters, really.”
“No,” you cut in, lightly slapping his back. “You were raised to hate yourself, Loki, to hate the species that was a true part of you. Don’t bring that into our family.”
“Sorry,” he whispers. “That’s not what I’m saying. I don’t think of them that way, but from a midgardian perspective, it’s…the truth.” He shakes his head at your confused face, drawing you closer into him. “Look, the point I’m trying to make is just that you shouldn’t love us, but you do, and the fact that you wanted to have a child with me felt, um, good.”
“Validating?”
“Very.” He presses his lips to your temple, closing his eyes tightly. “And the fact that you love our little blue babies just as much as I do feels even better.”
“So you want more kids? To capitalise on that validation of my love for you?”
“Yes…” he hugs you closer, burying his face in your neck to muffle his voice. “And I might have a little bit of a kink.”
You can’t help but laugh, running a hand through his hair as you hold him. “Okay, the kink I understand. But have I given you a reason to doubt my love for you?”
“No, no, that’s not what I mean!”
“Please tell me if I have,” you murmur. “I’m so sorry.”
“You haven’t,” he promises, cradling your face in his hands. “I’m just an insecure, paranoid, kinky little shit.”
You try for a cracked smile. “Are you sure?”
“I’m positive.” He kisses you, fingers smoothing over your jaw. “There’s no part of this that puts you at fault, my love. I house the problems for this family.”
“I love you,” you swear, kissing him again. “I really, really do. That’s why I’ve got two incredible, perfect blue kids with you, okay? Because I love you, Loki.”
He opens his mouth to respond, only to be cut off by a loud crash from the kitchen.
“Damn. This was a nice little moment, wasn’t it?”
“Quick,” you whisper, grabbing a fistful of his shirt and yanking him towards you. “Kiss me with your tongue, hurry, before they find us.”
“O-okay.”
He obliges much too happily, curving your body into his with hands splayed over your back and neck as yours tangle in his hair.
Knock knock knock.
“MOMMY, ELLI ATE ALL THE CEREAL—”
Loki moves to break the kiss so you can answer, but you shake your head and suck his tongue back into your mouth.
“Mommy?”
Just a moment longer…
“Mommy, are you ‘n daddy kissin’ again?”
Loki pulls away, a grin back on his swollen lips. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Oh, okay.”
You bite down on Loki’s shoulder to keep from laughing, holding onto him tight.
“…but the cereal’s gone.”
“There’s a new box on the middle shelf,” you call through the door, trying not to laugh when Loki starts nipping at the curve of your neck again. “Have Elliot get it down for you, okay, sweetie?”
“‘Kay, thanks, mommy.”
“My pleasure, Frigg.” Your hands slip back into Loki’s hair, tugging gently and preparing to get back to making out as soon as she leaves…
“Have fun kissin’ daddy.”
“Oh, I will,” you laugh, gazing into Loki’s eyes and brushing his hair out of his face as he quirks an eyebrow.
“…can I haffa kiss? M’kinda lonely ‘n Elli’s gonna leave…”
“Frigg,” Loki calls out to her, spinning you around to press your back against the wall and clapping a hand over your mouth. “Give us two more minutes and we’ll give you a million kisses.”
“Even at work?”
“Of course,” you laugh, pushing his hand away. “We’ll be right out, go have your cereal!”
Loki pauses for half a second to listen for the little footsteps leaving the room before pouncing on you again, dragging a trail of hot kisses down the column of your throat as your head falls back with a sigh.
“We’ve gotta stop,” you groan, raking your fingers through his hair. “Elliot has to get to school, Frigg needs a kiss—”
“MOM??”
“I still want another kid.” Loki’s lips leave your chest with a pop and he grins. “I’ll take the interruptions, only makes it that much better when we actually find time to ravish each other.”
“MOM, THERE’S NO MORE CEREAL—”
“If they say the word cereal one more time, I’m going to scream.”
“You know, this wouldn’t have happened if we had another kid.” Loki sets your pouting, deprived self back upright with a sigh, reaching down and buttoning your pants for you.
The pout continues—you haven’t gotten to kiss him like that in a while.
“I think it would only get worse if we had more…”
“Anyways,” Loki cuts you off, a finger to your lips, “the bed is right over there, I conveniently already have no pants on—”
“No.”
“I was thinking we should go for twins, actually,” he continues, that shit-eating grin plastered on his perfect face. “Make it an even four children, then if we don’t get twins this time, we keep at it until we get a pair—”
“Absolutely not.”
He heaves a dramatic sigh and wrestles your shirt over your head, holding it for you to slip your arms in. “I’ll respect your wishes, I suppose…”
“Look at me, Loki,” you laugh, lifting your arms when he starts tucking your shirt into the band of your pants.
He glances up when he finishes, grabbing a fistful of your shirt and pulling you in for a quick smooch. “Yes?”
“First of all, you just reversed-stripped me, which is very out of character for your horny self, but very sweet. Second…” you hold out a pair of pants to him with the sweetest grin you can manage. “Pants.”
“No.”
You throw the pants in his face. “Okay, this!! Is why we can’t have more kids!”
“Why, because I prefer to be ready for baby-making at any given time??”
“No!” You jab a finger into his chest, snagging a quick kiss that’s the perfect mix of annoyed and enamoured. “Because YOU are my third child, and you are exhausting and more work than Elliot and Frigg combined and you’re making me late to work again—”
He opens his mouth to defend himself and you shut it by sealing it with your own.
“Don’t. say. breakfast.”
“But—”
“No.”
“Hmph.” He crosses his arms with a huff, just sitting there and letting you squish your lips up against his.
A sorry excuse for a kiss, but neither of you are complaining.
Another yell for mom brings you crashing back into reality and you push yourself away, sighing happily and patting Loki’s pouting cheek. “Pants,” you remind him, pointing. “See you on the battlefield. In pants. Please.”
“Hypothetical question, darling,” Loki calls after you, holding up a finger when you reach the closet door. “If I don’t put on pants, will I get a spanking?”
“LOKI, I SWEAR TO GOD—”
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imagineredwood · 7 years
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***The requests didn't have anything specific in mind, only what I could see as a realistic view of what being Happy's Old Lady would entail 💕*** "Gimme your shirt." Happy obeyed silently, pulling his blood stained shirt over his head and handing it over to you. You ran it under the hot water coming from the sink as he undressed the rest of the way until he was only in his boxers. He handed you the rest of the clothes and you eyed him. "Might as well gimme the underwear too. I mean," He smirked and nodded, pulling that last remaining piece of clothing from his body until he was standing entirely naked next to you in the laundry room. He reached for you to grab you but you quickly slipped out of his reach with a laugh. "Nope. Go take a shower. You ain't about to be touching me with those hands all covered in blood and dirt and who knows what the fuck else. Go take a bath." Happy grumbled under his breath, something about being called dirty in his own house, but turned anyways, walking out of the laundry room and towards the master bathroom to have his shower. You stayed however, continuing to run his clothes under the hot water, getting the caked and dried up blood of the surface. Once that was done, you're reached under the sink and pulled out 'the bucket'. Placing it onto the sink edge, you opened it and pulled out its contents. Peroxide. Baking soda. Vinegar. A toothbrush. You poured the vinegar and peroxide in the bucket a quarter of the way then dumped in the baking soda, using the shirt to mix them together as it fizzed up. You could feel the heat building in the shirt as the peroxide worked on the blood, a slight pink tinge now coming to the liquid as you sloshed the shirt around, squeezing and rubbing it in. Once all the fizzing was done, you let the shirt and jeans soak in the mixture, getting the washer ready. With everything set up, you pulled his clothes out of the bucket and rung them out, pouring some stain remover on the now baby pick spots and scrubbed at them softly with the toothbrush before you tossed them in the washer, hitting start and shutting off the lights. Poking your head in to the bathroom, you shouted at Happy so he could hear you over the water. "Hurry up! I need to take a shower before I get ready for Gemma's. She wants us there on time today, dinner is-." Your sentence trailed off with an annoyed tone, your Old Man standing right in the middle of the bathroom floor, naked and still covered in soap, dripping water all of the floor. "Don't rush me. Just get your ass in there with me and we'll be ready twice as quick." You wanted to say something smart but you knew he was right. He'd gotten home from club business late and no way we're you going to be able to take separate showers, wash your hair and get ready all in time to get to Gemma's when she wanted you there. You'd be late again, and after last time, neither one of you wanted to be on the receiving end of that chewing. So you walked into the bathroom and pulled your clothes off, tossing them into the hamper while Happy walked behind you, slapping your bare ass as you bent over to pull off your panties. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Wow. Look who's finally here on time." "Fuck off Tig." He chuckled and so did you as he opened the door further, letting you in. You walked in first, followed by Happy, who stayed at the door hugging Tig before walking in as well. He went into the dining room with his brothers while you went into the kitchen and placed down your cheesecake before walking to Gemma to give her kiss. "Thanks for coming sweetheart, I know Clay had Hap out pretty late getting something handled." You nodded and shrugged, a smirk on your face. "Like you would've let us get away with not coming." Her smirk mirrored yours as she threw her arm around your shoulders and began walking with you out to the table where the others were. "Oh no, you were gonna come. I just meant you two could've spent some quality time together." You laughed at her wink and bumped your hip into hers. "That'll be tonight. I don't like rushing." She grinned and leaned over to kiss your cheek. "And that's why you're my favorite Old Lady." With that, you both made your way to the table and sat beside your men, everyone starting to serve themselves and asking for the food to be passed. Abel was sitting off to Happy's right, pointing to what he wanted as Hap served his plate and you smiled, grabbing Happy's plate and serving him yourself. You put a little of everything and then sat his plate down, starting to serve yours once his was done. There were various conversations going on at once and everyone was involved in all of them. Tig, Bobby and Kozik were arguing about who should've won some boxing match, Gemma and Jax were making plans for Abel's birthday, Happy was giving Abel advice on some little girl he had a crush on and you and Juice were laughing over memes that were on phone. Everyone was laughing and having a good time when there was a loud knock on the door. Everyone quieted down quickly, a silence falling over. The Sons all stood simultaneously, their hands already teaching into their kuttes. Happy held his arm out in front of you, signaling you to stay put and you did, reaching over to grab Abel and pick him up, passing him over to Tara. She stood with him and held him to her chest as you stood too, your hand reaching into your purse and grabbing onto the handle of your Glock, just in case. Clay stepped up to the door first, but his brothers were close behind him. He pulled the curtain to the side and looked though, everyone's bodies relaxing as they saw who was there. Gemma couldn't see though, just like the rest of you and huffed. "Well who is it?" "Unser." Clay pulled open the door and sure enough there Wayne was, giving a slight wave of his hand as everyone started putting their guns away. "Just wanted to stop by, give you a head up on some info I found out today." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "So much for a peaceful night." Happy wrapped his arms around you from behind as you sighed and unpacked your overnight bag. "I'm sorry babe. We have to do it though. If the Nords are targeting our women then we gotta lock it down until we settle the threat. I'll make it up to you. I promise." "You better." Turning around with a smile, you snaked your arms around his neck, his hands coming to rest on your waist. "Thank you for always holding it down babygirl. No matter what gets thrown at you, you deal with it." You shrugged and pulled your arms back from around his neck, wrapping them around his middle as you cuddled into his chest. "Because I love you, and I love the club. You guys are my world. You're my family." At that, Happy smiled and took hold of your hand, pulling you across his dorm to lay with him. You both settled into the mattress and pulled the covers up, you searching for his chest in the dark so you could rest your head on it and let the sound of his heartbeat put you to sleep.
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Happy Holidays!
Hope you’re having a great holiday season @are-you-reddie-for-it
Here’s some Reddie from your secret Santa
Word count: about 5,800
Warnings: some swearing
Eddie hated being a poor college student. He wasn’t sure how much more annoying life could get than living in a cramped dorm on campus, spending half of his week in classes, spending the other half working on homework and projects for said classes, eating cheap, gross food, and, worst of all, having to do his laundry at the filthy yet reasonably priced laundromat downtown.
Given, life could certainly be a lot worse, but it also could be a lot better. Most of it did come back to Eddie’s shit luck and exhaustion making him make stupid decisions though.
For example, Eddie had forgotten to check the weather forecast Monday before class and had to trek back to his dorms across campus without an umbrella during a horrendous thunderstorm. Everything in his bag got soaked. He also forgot to set an alarm Tuesday and woke up fifteen minutes late for his lecture. On Wednesday, Eddie had gone out to get soup and tripped when he got back to his room and dumped it all over the clean pile of laundry folded up on the floor at the end of his bed. And that particular event, of course, led to him realizing Thursday night that he had no clean clothes left.
It was 1 AM and Eddie had just finished writing up his microbiology essay that was due at 9 o’clock sharp in the morning, and he was ready to change into his pajamas and pass out. When Eddie opened up his wardrobe door though, he can face to face with empty space where his clothes should have been. Throwing his head back in annoyance and letting out a heavy sigh, Eddie glanced over at his hamper full of dirty clothes with guilt and irritation. It was his fault he had to deal with this situation right now but he also couldn’t believe he had to deal with this situation right now. He just wanted to go to bed, make it through tomorrow’s classes, and relax and recover as best he could over the weekend from this especially long, tiring, and terrible week.
But now, at 1 in the morning, Eddie was left without clothes because he slacked off slightly on doing laundry over the weekend and somehow managed to spill soup on the clothes he did clean. His only choices now were to do laundry or go through his hamper in hopes of finding clothes that were somewhat clean that he could wear again in the morning. While the latter did sound appealing at this late hour of the night, he detested the thought of having to wear dirty clothes, even if it were only for a day. He refused to lower himself to such barbaric standards.
Sighing, Eddie slipped his shoes on, grabbed his wallet, keys, and laundry bag, and headed out.
The night was chilly, and the cold air made Eddie’s lungs hurt whenever he inhaled too deeply. He was fortunate enough that some laundromat owner saw the potential in opening his business within walking distance of his college campus where hundreds of poor young adults didn’t own their own washers and dryers. Eddie was even luckier that it was open 24/7 because said laundromat owner also knew that college students were terrible and had awful schedules that made no sense, like having to do laundry at one in the morning.
Eddie was exhausted, and his feet dragged as he made his way down the familiarly illuminated street to the small shop where he always did his laundry. He was glad to see the store’s lights on as he approached, and that it was mostly empty inside besides some old man sitting in the corner near a dryer.
The bell gave a happy jingle as he entered, and Eddie quickly made his way over to the nearest washer. After digging through his wallet for a moment, he was able to find the right amount of quarters needed for the machine. He tucked his wallet back into the back pocket of his jeans and dumped his entire bag of laundry into the machine. He usually took the time to sort through everything and wash lights and darks separately to prevent any colors from bleeding and staining any of his clothes, but at the current moment, Eddie was beyond caring.
In fact, he was so far beyond caring, that he took off his jeans and threw them into the washer as well. He didn’t even care that he was standing in his boxer shorts in a laundromat at what was now one thirty in the morning. The only other person in the building had hardly even looked at Eddie since he walked in. He was sure the man didn’t care what Eddie was wearing at such an ungodly hour.
After inserting his quarters and starting the machine, Eddie went over and slouched into one of the hard plastic chairs that lined the edges of the store. Eddie didn’t bother bringing any detergent or softener with him so his clothes would be washed yet barely considered clean. He was way too exhausted to bother with such things though. His future self could get annoyed at him later for all he cared. Right now, he was tired, and the laundromat was rather warm and quiet besides the comforting rumbling sound that came from the two running machines in the store. Eddie felt his eyes drift shut, and he decided as long as he didn’t fall asleep, it would be okay to rest them for a moment. Just a moment though.
Eddie woke up what felt like only moments later with a sharp and sudden jolt.
He shook his head, feeling momentarily sharp and alert in comparison to how exhausted and slow he was only a little while ago. It took him a moment to remember what he was doing in this place that clearly wasn’t his room in the early hours of the morning. One glance at the dryer rumbling in front of him was enough for him to remember just where he was and what he was doing though.
He sighed in relief. He may have fallen asleep for a bit there, but everything appeared to be fine. The old man was still sitting in the corner of the store for some reason, he was safe, and his clothes were still right where he had left them in the dryer.
Eddie froze.
He didn’t leave his clothes in the dryer. He specifically remembers putting them in the washer before he sat down. Was it possible he swapped his laundry over in his sleep? No way. He only took a brief power nap and he has had no history of doing anything in his sleep, much less something as complex as moving his laundry from one machine to another and starting a dryer. He stared at the dryer in confusion, concern, and horror.
“Oh shit, you’re up.” A voice spoke up next to him, laughing.
Eddie turned and saw a boy about his age with glasses and wild black hair at the machine next to him. He was smiling a dumb smile at Eddie.
“When I got here your washer was beeping and you were passed out drunk so I just moved your stuff over to the dryer so they wouldn’t mildew in the machine.”
Eddie stared at him, all the alertness he just had was gone, replaced only with dazed confusion. Everything felt like a dream. It must have been a dream, Eddie decided. How else could that amused smile the boy was giving him be that bright?
It took him almost a solid minute to be able to do anything besides gape at the boy. At last, he swallowed and spoke up. “Thank you.” His voice was rough with sleep and cracked halfway through his first word. He cleared his throat, his face flushing slightly as he tried again, speaking clearly. “I mean, thank you.”
After saying that, he paused for a moment, thinking over what the boy had said to him.
“Wait a minute, you touched my laundry? And I’m not drunk.” He scoffed.
The boy snorted. “Sure you’re not drunk. Why else would you be passed out cold in a laundromat at two thirty in the morning with no pants on?”
“For your information, I’m a sleep-deprived college student, not a drunk. I just accidentally forgot to wash my laundry and happen to fall asleep big deal.” Eddie’s face burned red as he processed the second part of the kid’s question. “And I took my pants off to wash them.”
He stared at Eddie for a moment, his face unreadable, before shrugging. “I guess we’ve all been there, done that. Though it was definitely a bold choice to take your pants off and fall sleep with” He jerked his head over towards the old guy, lowering his voice. “That dude over there. He hasn’t moved, said, or done anything since I came in an hour ago and I wouldn’t have been surprised if he robbed and stabbed you in your sleep.”
Eddie frowned at the old man who only continued to stare at the running machine in front of him. “Eh, I doubt he’d hurt anyone, he looks rather- Wait. Did you say when you got here an hour ago?”
The kid quirked his eyebrows in confusion, adjusting his obnoxiously large pair of glasses on his face. “Yeah?”
“That’s impossible, I was only out for a few minutes.”
He laughed at Eddie. “Ha. You’ve been out much longer than that. Like I said, you were out cold. I tried waking you up when your machine went off, but you just slept through it all.”
Eddie’s face felt red again. “Oh.” He squeaked in a small voice.
The kid just chuckled again. Eddie, thinking back over the conversation they just shared as he stared at his feet, now also remembers how the kid said it was two thirty, which was about an hour later than when Eddie arrived at the laundromat. He felt stupid. What a fool he was making of himself.
Without being too obvious, Eddie snuck a glance over at the boy cheerfully sitting a few chairs away from him. He looked like a college student. Messy hair, bags under his eyes, wearing an outfit that looks like it was bought in a Goodwill for less than ten bucks. His shirt had a concert tee on with a band logo on it that was so faded Eddie couldn’t even tell what it was supposed to be anymore. All the city names and dates listed on the back of it weren’t even written in English. His shoes weren’t even real shoes, either, but a pair of slippers with a dog face and ears on them. Perhaps the most atrocious thing though was the ugly, faded pink flannel Hello Kitty pajama pants he was wearing. They were old, covered in holes and stains, and were too short for him, resting about five inches above his ankle. This kid looked like a train wreck, and Eddie found himself unable to stop staring.
And just as Eddie’s luck would have it, the boy noticed Eddie watching him.
“You like these puppies?” The boy asked with a smirk, tugging on the legs of his Hello Kitty pajama pants. “Wal-Mart. Five bucks, Talk about a deal!” He grinned at Eddie and Eddie had to try not to physically shield his eyes from his beaming smile and radiant, energetic personality. How was it possible anyone could be this happy and lively at nearly 3 AM in a cheap laundromat? Why would anyone want to be so happy and lively at nearly 3 AM in a cheap laundromat?
Eddie stared wide-eyed at the kid, hearing what he was saying but hardly comprehending it and understanding what exactly he was saying. He just decided to nod his head and turn back to face the tumbling dryer.
Eddie’s skin prickled and he realized after another quick glance that it was because the kid was now staring at him. Not knowing what to do in this situation, he just tried to ignore the other boy as best he could and hoped his ears weren’t turning too red from embarrassment because now Eddie really regrets taking his pants off to wash them.
The kid’s staring was interrupted by the annoying sound of a default ringtone coming from the boy’s pants pocket. He pulled out a small flip phone, staring at the screen. He glanced back at Eddie. “Excuse me but I gotta take this real quick.” He got up, walking outside as he dramatically flipped his phone open and began animatedly talking to whoever was on the line with him.
Eddie watched him through the front windows of the laundromat. He sure was using a lot of hand motions as he talked. Even if it was over the phone. Eddie could have also sworn he heard him say something in Spanish with the most atrocious accent imaginable. Eddie frowned. This kid was so weird.
As Eddie stared at the boy, one of the machines started beeping next to him and Eddie jumped up to pull the clothes out of the machine as quickly as possible so he could leave. Hardly looking at the damage he probably did when carelessly washing all of his clothes together, he dumped everything from the dryer into his laundry bag, with the exception of a pair of jeans that he quickly threw on. They felt slightly bigger than usual, but he paid little attention to this. Once everything had been transferred into the bag, he tied it shut, quickly taking off out of the shop.
The boy looked over at Eddie as he hurriedly walked out and started heading back to campus. He looked confused and opened his mouth to say something to him, but Eddie was gone before he could say anything, nearly sprinting away. He doesn’t know why he was moving so fast, but something about being around that boy made his stomach roll and his face flush and he wasn’t completely sure why. Sure, maybe he was cute, but he also seemed a bit obnoxious and most definitely not Eddie’s type.
Arriving back at his dorm building, Eddie rushed to his room. His head was reeling as he jammed his room key from his pocket into the lock and shoved the door open. Closing the door rather firmly behind him, Eddie threw the bag of clean laundry down on the floor and flopped onto his bed, exhausted.
It was practically 3 AM by this point, and Eddie had to be up and at class by nine. Not even bothering to change out of his clothes, Eddie snuggled up against his pillow, determined to pass out as quickly as possible to maximize the amount of sleep he’d get. Moments later as he drifted off into sleep, his mind flashed back to the bright smile of the boy at the laundromat, and Eddie couldn’t help but smile slightly to himself as he thought about how cute he was.
Eddie’s screeching phone woke him up so suddenly he jerked trying to sit up and nearly tumbled off of his bed.
Sighing, Eddie looked at the time on his phone screen with disappointment and exhaustion. He was beyond tired, and he couldn’t believe he had class in less than two hours. Shutting off his alarm and vowing to go to bed at a decent time at the end of the day, Eddie set about getting ready for his classes. His mind wasn’t in the mood for thinking about anything other than going back to bed, but it was still able to tell him that getting dressed was a good place to start his day off right. Grabbing the bag of laundry he threw down the previous night, Eddie dumped it out on the bed and his heart stopped.
These were not his clothes.
Initially, Eddie couldn’t figure out what was happening. He had no clue whose clothes these could possibly be. And then the previous night came back to him in pieces, helping him remember.
The energetic boy with the Hello Kitty pajamas doing his laundry next to Eddie. Him changing Eddie’s clothes over to a dryer (never having specified which dryer) after he had fallen asleep. Him stepping out to take a call as the timer on one of the dryers went off. The jeans Eddie slipped on being too big. His confused look he had when Eddie left because he probably knew Eddie’s laundry would finish drying after his. He never did tell him when he started the two loads. Eddie had only assumed he started his first.
Eddie’s face burned red as he realized how stupid he was.
He had now just stolen a complete strangers load of laundry and lost pretty much all of his own clothes in the process. Now, all Eddie wanted to do was crawl back into bed and never wake up again.
And as appealing as the idea was, he, unfortunately, still had things he needed to do. After all, he didn’t stay up late last night working on his microbiology essay to just not turn it in on time.
Awkwardly, Eddie shifted through some of the shirts he had taken last night, looking for something he could borrow for the day. He would try to think of a way to deal with his whole clothing situation later. For now, he had bigger issues to deal with.
Finding a black shirt with a yellow smiley face looking thing on it that looked innocuous enough for him to wear, Eddie swapped around the shirts he was wearing. Besides a few pairs of shorts, there weren’t any other pairs of pants so Eddie was stuck wearing the jeans he fell asleep in. They were a bit baggy, but nothing he couldn’t live with for a few hours. After deciding he had everything he needed, he shoved all the clothes back into the bag.
He had fallen asleep in his shoes, so he didn’t have to worry about them as he gathered everything he needed for his class before heading out. His morning routine for 9 AM class days involved getting coffee before class, so Eddie made his way over to the University Center.
The coffee sold at the shop inside the building wasn’t very good, but Eddie also happened to know that his best friend was working his early morning shift there on Fridays, which made the place worth going to on a regular basis.
Bill looked up and smiled at Eddie as he made his way over to the small coffee place. After looking over Eddie’s appearance though, his eyebrows furrowed slightly with mild concern as he awkwardly laughed at his friend. “Jesus, Eddie, you look like shit.”
“Thanks, Bill, I feel like it.” Eddie sighed, leaning heavily against the counter as Bill made him the usual cup of black coffee he orders.
“I don’t doubt it,” Bill said, handing over a hot cup to Eddie. “What happened? And since when do you like Nirvana?”
“What? Nirvana? I don’t like Nirvana, I’ve never even heard them.”
Bill gestured to Eddie’s shirt. “You’re wearing one of their tees though.”
Eddie felt his face turn slightly pink. “It’s uh… It’s not actually… mine.” Eddie finished in a rushed whisper, quickly taking a sip of coffee as he hoped Bill wouldn’t realize what he said.
As luck would have it, Eddie was not fortuitous enough to have that happen.
“Oh my god, Eddie!” Bill laughed, gently hitting him on the shoulder. “Who’s the lucky guy? I didn’t know you had a boyfriend.”
Eddie groaned, covering his face with his open hand in embarrassment. “He’s not… he’s not my boyfriend, Bill, I just have his shirt.”
“Ohhh,” Bill nodded in understanding, smirking. “Eddie, you dog.” He winked good-naturedly.
If Eddie’s face got any hotter than it was at the current moment, it was going to burst into flames and burn down the entire University Center. “No, I just… stole his laundry by accident.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Bill’s grin just kept on getting bigger. “You stole someone’s laundry?”
“It was an accident!”
“How could you steal someone’s laundry by accident?” Bill was laughing, having an absolute field day with the whole situation.
“I don’t know! I guess I just wasn’t paying attention.” Eddie sighed, defeated. “And now I’m stuck with some complete stranger’s clothes for god knows how long. Maybe even forever!”
“Whoa there, Eds, calm down.” Bill gently set his hand on Eddie’s shoulder to comfort him. “I’m sure he realized what happened and is trying to figure out some way to resolve the situation too.”
“Yeah, let’s hope so. Anyways, there’s not much I can do about this now, I have class in less than a half hour. I need to get going. Here,” Eddie stuck his hand in his back pocket, reaching for his wallet.
Eddie’s week just couldn’t get worse.
“Oh, mother fucker!” He all but shouted, finding his back pocket empty, void of the wallet usual kept there. It only took a second for him to remember a very sleepy Eddie shoving said wallet into the pants pocket of his own pair of jeans before taking his pants off and throwing them into the washing machine before passing out.
Bill looked at him, alarmed. “What? What happened?”
“I left my wallet in a pair of pants that I washed last night. It’s gone with all the rest of my clothes. Everything in there probably got wrecked too from going through the wash.”
Bill looked at him in disbelief and slight amusement. He obviously knew that losing your wallet was terrible, but the number of things that could go wrong for Eddie in one week was comically high. Eddie supposed if he didn’t have to deal with this situation, he’d have also found it funny. Unfortunately, he did have to deal with it and he felt like crying in all-out frustration.
Bill noticed this, demeanor quickly changing to caring, concerned, and determined to help and support. He walked around the coffee store’s counter to give Eddie a hug. “Hey, don’t worry about the coffee, Eds, I’ll cover it. You head to class, and when we’re both done with school for the day, we’ll meet up and make a plan to track down this guy. He’s probably looking for you too, and who knows. Maybe he even goes to school here.” He gave a sniffling and angry Eddie a reassuring smile. “Just try to get through your class, and then we’ll figure something out, okay? Promise.”
Eddie nodded his head. “Okay. Promise.” He wiped his face, making sure there weren’t any tears on it. “Thanks, Bill.”
“Anytime. Now get on out of here.” Bill shooed him away, towards the exit of the University Center in the direction Eddie would want to go to get to the lab for microbiology.
Eddie headed out, trying not to think about all his missing belongings, the too big stolen clothes he was wearing, and the radiant boy who he’d have to try and track down later.
In what had to be the most surprising turn of luck of the century, Eddie didn’t even have to go out looking for the kid from the laundromat.
After a grueling microbiology lecture that Eddie had to struggle to stay awake through, even with coffee to keep him up, he was now making his way back to his dorm room to try and take a nap. He only had one class on Fridays because Eddie was determined to make it an easy day when arranging his school schedule. This meant more classes Monday through Thursday but left him with more weekend recovery time.
Bill, however, had a class just after noon, which left Eddie with a few hours to kill before he had to meet up with his friend to figure out just what to do. He was sure he could have come up with a plan for this situation on his own, but he was panicking too much at the current moment to do much of anything productive. Bill was smart and a calming presence, so Eddie knew it was in his best interest to just wait for him.
When Eddie turned down the dorm hallway in the direction of his room though, it was like God himself had come to apologize for the week of hell Eddie suffered through.
Sitting in front of his door, right next to a basket full of clothes, was the boy with the curly black hair and obnoxious glasses he had seen at the laundromat the previous night.
Eddie stared at him in disbelief. Surely, this must have been a dream. He pinched his arm. The boy was still sitting there, playing some type of game on the DS he held in his hands, completely oblivious to Eddie’s staring. He also was wearing his own pair of jeans and another band shirt that definitely wasn’t Eddie’s, which was a relief. He was way bigger than Eddie was, and it would have been a disaster if he had to wear his clothes like Eddie had to with his.
It wasn’t until Eddie was standing almost directly in front of him did he finally glance up at him. His tongue was sticking out of the corner of his mouth from concentrating on his game and his eyes had a certain glint to them that he couldn’t help but think of as cute.
After seeing Eddie, the boy quickly jumped to his feet. “It’s about time you showed up, Edward, do you know how long I’ve been sitting here? Let me answer that: too long. Now you better have a damn good reason for keeping me waiting this long. And your apology better be sincere and poignant too.” He huff, crossing his arms in mock scorn like an angered parent.
Eddie, once again, found himself feeling confused and flustered by the boy’s presence. “W- what?”
“You may have stuttered just there, but I most certainly did not. Do not make me repeat myself, mister, because if I have to there will be hell to pay.”
Eddie stared at him in disbelief. His mouth was turned downwards and his eyebrows were furrowed, but there was a lighthearted glint of mischief in his eyes as he focused his stare on Eddie. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, undoubtedly looking like a fish as he stared at the other boy, unsure of what to do with this situation.
“How do you know my name?” Was all Eddie was able to say.
The boy’s face relaxed back into its normal, happy look. He laughed, rather obnoxiously, in Eddie’s face, and Eddie tried not to scowl at him. He was a lot more annoying than he remembered.
The boy pulled something out of his pocket and tossed it to Eddie who fumbled to catch it. It was his wallet. The leather it was made of cracked and falling apart from going through the washer and dryer. After a quick look through, it looked like everything was still there.
“Since you were stupid enough to leave all of your clothes at the laundromat, I decided to be a good samaritan and return them to you. Luckily for me and unluckily for you, you left your wallet in the pocket of your jeans. A quick look at your student ID gave me your name and dorm building. After asking around a bit here, I was able to track down your room number. Some rather ingenious detective work on my part, if I do say so myself.” The boy smugly gave himself a pat on his own shoulder.
Eddie’s ears were pink and his face was flushing. “I’m not stupid, it was an accident.”
“A stupid accident.”
Eddie resisted the urge to growl in frustration. Before he could get another word in, the boy’s eyes traveled down from his face, taking in what Eddie was wearing before howling with laughter.
“Oh my god,” He wheezed, “are those my clothes? They look huge on you! I knew you were small, but I guess I didn’t realize how small you were last night!”
Eddie’s face went from pink to scarlet in a matter of second. “I’m not small! I’m average!” He tried to defend himself but wound up only making the other kid laugh harder at him. “It’s not my fault you’re a fucking giant.”
“Oh please,” The boy wiped a tear from the corner of his eye, mouth still bent into a smile. “I’m only like six foot four. You, on the other hand, are like five foot three. Are you sure you’re nineteen like your ID says?”
Eddie felt like he was bristling. “I’m five foot six and three quarters, for your information!”
He wasn’t sure what reaction he was hoping to get from the other boy, but pity was definitely not it. “Oh, honey,” He cooed, “that’s below average. And you’re so desperate to be taller you had to add in the ‘three quarters’ bit, aww.”
“Can you stop treating me like a fucking child cause I’m not six.”
“You sure look like you’re six.”
Eddie sighed, unable to believe he had actually just set the other boy up like that. “Look, can I just have my clothes back?”
“Are you sure you want your clothes back? I must admit you look rather cute in mine.” He winked at Eddie whose face could not physically get any redder than it already was.
“Your clothes are way too fucking big, I don’t want them.” Eddie snapped, defensively. “And don’t call me cute.”
“Aww, but Edward, you are cute, don’t you see?”
“Gross, don’t say ‘Edward’ like that. No one calls me that anyway.”
“Do you have a better name I could call you by? Mine, perhaps?” Eddie furiously ignored the wink he gave him.
“I go by Eddie.”
“Eddie! That’s adorable!”
“It’s not adorable, you asshole, stop that.”
“You’re like a kitten: small, cute, and feisty.” Another wink.
“Oh my god, stop.” Eddie brought a hand up to his temple which was beginning to throb with an oncoming headache. “Not that I care at this point, but I might as well know your name too.”
The boy pretended to swoon. “Spoken like a true romantic asking for my hand in marriage.” Eddie couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “My name’s Richie. Richie Tozier. But I’d also like to call myself yours.”
Eddie wasn’t sure how much more flirting he could tolerate from this guy. Luckily though, Richie’s phone buzzed in his pocket. After a quick glance at it, he clicked his tongue in disappointment. “Well, as much fun as this has been, I have to bounce. Since I have returned your clothes it is your duty to do the same.”
“Oh. Right.” Eddie grabbed his key and unlocked his door. He felt relieved that the conversation was over, but also slightly let down that Richie was leaving. He wasn’t sure why because the boy was annoying and got on every last one of Eddie’s nerves in a way no amount of good-looking could justify, but he almost enjoyed being around him in a weird way. After he had his clothes back, he’d probably move on and he and Eddie would never speak again. He grabbed the bag of laundry, handing it over to the other boy who followed him into his room.
Richie set the basket full of Eddie’s clothes down on his bed, before slinging the bag over his shoulder. He looked around Eddie’s room, nodding his head. “Not a bad room. The design is simple and tidy. Look forward to spending more time here.” He winked yet again.
“Oh please. What reason do you possibly have to be inside my room at any point in the future?” Eddie was hoping to shut down his flirting by indicating there was no way the two of them hooking up would ever happen, but he realized too late he had just inadvertently set him up again for another joke.
Richie didn’t jump instantly in with a joke though. “Well, for starters, I’m leaving my laundry basket with you and taking your laundry bag. Obviously, we need to give these back to each other at some point, don’t we?”
Eddie stared at him. He wanted to mention the fact that he could dump out the basket of his clothes onto his bed and Richie could dump his bag of stuff into the basket and the two could go on their own merry ways. He picked up on what he was indirectly trying to say, and for some reason found himself going along with it. 
“You’re right, of course.”
“Also, you’re still wearing my clothes. And as much as I’d enjoy seeing you take them off in front of me, preferably slowly and in a scandalous way, I could also just pick them up later when you’re wearing your own clothes again.”
Eddie looked away, shyly. “Yeah, you can pick them up with your basket later.” This had to be by far the lamest excuse to see each other again ever conceived.
“Lastly, your room is a much nicer room to hook up in than mine.” He smirked and Eddie hit his arm.
“What makes you think we’d hook up?” Eddie meant to sound annoyed but he doubts it came out sounding that way.
“You have yet to shoot me down, so I’m sure that means you’re at least interested slightly.”
Eddie was flustered once again. He hadn’t directly shot down anything he said. Perhaps that was intentional. “I suppose you’re right.”  He said quietly before quickly changing the subject before he had to say anything else on the matter. “Didn’t you say you had some place to be?”
Richie smiled. It was genuine like it was last night and not flirtatious like it had just been. He looked really happy, and that made Eddie’s heart happy too. “Yeah, I do. I’ll see you around though, Eddie.”
“I guess I’ll see you around too, Richie.”
The boy waved at him, shutting the door behind him as he left. Eddie waited a second before grinning to himself. Looks like they’d be seeing each other again after all.
Eddie looked over at the basket of clothes on his bed, noticing a slip of paper sticking out on top. He grabbed it, rolling his eyes as he read over the ‘call me - richie xoxo’ scribbled on it in sloppy handwriting with a phone number printed underneath it. Eddie was beginning to feel like maybe this week wasn’t actually half that bad.
As he pulled out a shirt to hang up though, he noticed how the few white tees he had turned pink from the one red polo shirt he owned. Okay, maybe his week wasn’t the best.
But Richie sure made it a hell of a lot better.
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serceleste · 7 years
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after the war - stormpilot week - day 3, everyday life
Haven’t got this up on AO3 yet but here is a ficlet for Day 3 of stormpilot week!
Summary: Finn realizes that this can be his life now, this ordinary, perfect life with Poe. (1030 words, PG-13)
The room was still dark when Finn awoke, only a sliver of light creeping in through the drawn curtains as the sun rose. It was too early to be awake, really, but old habits died hard. At least, they did for Finn.
Poe, on the other hand, seemed entirely content to remain asleep, lying on his belly with his head tucked under Finn’s chin and one leg wedged between Finn’s.
It had been two weeks since the conclusion of the peace negotiations and one week since Finn had arrived on Yavin 4 with Poe. He still couldn’t quite believe that it was all over. The war, the First Order, all of it.
He still couldn’t get used to having nothing to do.
It’s a vacation, Poe always said. If anyone deserves a vacation, it’s you, buddy.
A vacation sounded nice in theory, Finn supposed, and he certainly liked the lack of people shooting at him and the ability to spend quality alone time with Poe whenever he wanted (which was, frankly, most of the time), but he wasn’t exactly well-suited to all this… nothing. Poe’s dad, Kes, had given up trying to insist he couldn’t accept Finn’s help on the ranch after about twenty-four hours.
Poe seemed to find it all a bit amusing, but then, he seemed to be amused by most things that had to do with Finn. He grumbled and told Finn to stop working so hard, but then he helped Finn mend the perimeter fence and pick koyo melons, all while sneaking fond glances at Finn like he thought Finn wouldn’t notice. (And like hell Poe wouldn’t have been spending his vacation helping out his dad anyway; Finn knew him better than to expect otherwise.)
It wasn’t like Finn was working all the time. They’d spent most of the day before out at the old temple where the Rebellion used to operate, and he and Poe had – well, they’d made their way around the ranch whenever Kes was out of sight, to put it one way.
But Finn liked to stay busy. All this downtime was driving him nuts.
“Damn it, Finn,” Poe mumbled, his hand squeezing Finn’s side. “Go back to sleep, you kriffing idiot.”
“I’m just lying here, I--”
“You’re thinking about getting up to do the laundry, don’t lie.”
Finn eyed the pile of dirty clothes on the floor. “Maybe if you’d put your stinky shit in the hamper I wouldn’t be so offended by the sight of it and I could leave it until later.”
“Asshole,” Poe said, but he was nuzzling sleepily at Finn’s neck, which lessened the impact of the word by a whole lot.
“Go to sleep, Poe,” Finn said, leaning over to brush a kiss to the top of Poe’s curly head. “I can manage the laundry on my own. You won’t even miss me.”
“Miss you already,” Poe insisted, grabbing Finn’s wrist as Finn started to get up.
Rolling his eyes, Finn peeled Poe’s fingers away. “So dramatic. I’ll be back before you even know I’m gone.”
Poe had already mostly drifted back to sleep again by the time Finn was completely on his feet. Dumbass, Finn thought, but it was with affection. Poe was his very special dumbass and Finn was never, ever going to admit that he had ever thought that, never.
Finn spent a few minutes collecting all the dirty laundry off the floor, tossing it into a basket, and then stopped in the refresher to dump out the hamper. He found the act of doing laundry oddly comforting. There was something about the simple routine of it, and the pleasure of having clean, fresh-smelling clothes at the end, that he found incredibly gratifying.
It wasn’t something he had ever had to do in the First Order. Their uniforms were always clean but everything was always laid out for them. Finn liked the act of doing it himself.
The washer took some time to run, though, so Finn did return to Poe’s bedroom, as promised. He stubbed his toe on the way into the room and couldn’t stop the curse that slipped out.
Poe cracked his eyes open.
“Sorry,” Finn said.
“Come back to bed,” Poe said, stretching his hand out.
The sight was incredibly appealing; that was undeniable. Poe, all sleep-rumpled and enticing, stretched out in the warm bed. (Granted, Finn could do with a bit less warm on this kriffing miserably hot moon, but early morning was the nicest time.) His chest was bare to the air, tan skin, and he was naked under the sheet pooled around his hips, Finn knew.
So, yeah. The appeal was not lost on Finn.
He had time before the cycle would finish and the clothes would need to be dried. Finn’s nagging drive to be busy was telling him he could tidy up Poe’s messy room in the meantime, or he could start something for breakfast, or he could take the speeder out and do Kes’ shopping for him.
But Poe was in the bed, waiting for him, and Finn was struck by the sudden realization that this was his life now. Everything before, the stormtroopers, the Resistance, that had just been the road to living his real life, the life he wanted. And now he had it.
Poe throwing his dirty clothes on the floor, waking up early to do laundry, picking a bit of crushed koyo melon out of Poe’s hair, Kes laughing at them. This was what normal people did and Finn was a normal person now, with a normal boyfriend he loved and a normal life he couldn’t wait to get started on.
He could do whatever he wanted. Poe wanted to keep piloting and Finn could do anything he wanted.
“Finn?” Poe said, his voice still low and groggy.
Finn crept back into bed and curled around Poe, stroking his warm, soft skin. Poe sighed contentedly and buried his face against Finn’s chest. “I can keep you busy until the cycle goes off,” Poe offered, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to Finn’s skin.
Humming a little in pleasure, Finn decided that this, right here, this was definitely what he wanted.
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brokestminimalist · 6 years
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Broke Laundry
We will, for the time being, skip talking about how almost all of us have too many clothes.  This is a related topic, but one that deserves its own discussion.  The clothes that you have get dirty, and must be washed.  We are going to assume you have access to a modern washing machine, either at your house or a laundromat. We're going to call step one sorting.
Sorting: Look, ain’t nobody got time for this.  This is an extra chore that is 99% not necessary.  Unless you have specialty fabrics or are particular about how white your whites are, it's just added  stress and a waste of time.  We run a load of whites with a cup of bleach once a month to keep them pretty, but otherwise we do not separate colors.  We do not own things that can’t survive the washing machine, either.  No delicates, no dry cleaning.  We wash towels with our clothes, and sheets together with bedspreads. Done and done.
Laundry Detergent: We would avoid the very cheapest for the sake of our darks, but you also do not need to spring for the most expensive thing on the shelf.  In fact, we make our own laundry detergent here from one part washing soda, one part Borax, and one part soap. A double batch is enough detergent to last three months here. Good recipes can be had all over the internet, so go forth and find yourself one.  If you're washing in cold water and your tap water is very cold, such as in the winter, you may find it necessary to stir your homemade detergent into a cup of hot water before putting it into the machine. Out of detergent?  A spoonful of dish soap will do in a pinch.  Regardless of whether you're using store bought or homemade, don't use too much detergent; it's bad for the machine, the environment, and your clothes.  We do not want to buy new clothes until we absolutely have to, right?  Right.
Fabric Softener: I recently saw a headline about how Millennials are killing the fabric softener industry.  I think the truth is, they are prioritizing groceries and lights over luxuries like Downy.  If you must have it and can afford it, go ahead.  Measure carefully but don't dilute unless the package says so.  Fabric softener sheets are a good alternative, if you are using a dryer.  Here at Brokest Minimalist, we use a Downy ball with white vinegar in it.  The vinegar cuts soap residue, softens most fabrics, and is much cheaper.  Plus it's versatile enough to be used for cleaning as well.  An added bonus is that it doesn't reduce the absorbency of your towels like regular fabric softener does.  Our towels soak up ALL THE WATERS, no questions asked.
Water:  Set your washer on Tap Cold. Yes, really.  Unless your clothes are very greasy, almost anything can be washed in cold water and will get just as clean.  It isn't so much the temperature of the water or even the detergent that does the washing, as much as it is the action of the clothes rubbing against each other inside the machine.  Anything that's machine washable can be washed in cold water, period.
Settings: On our machine at home, clothes go on “casual” and sheets/bedspreads on “heavy duty”. Don't stress too much about this.  Choose a water level that is appropriate to how full the machine is, add your stuff, and go ahead.
Drying:  Here at Brokest Minimalist, we don't dry anything in the dryer.  Why?  Because air dries stuff for free, that's why.  Clothes dryers are one of the most frivolous uses of electricity in the modern world.  They are also one of the number one causes of fire in the United States, after candles and cooking fires.  Unless you are in a huge hurry, hang your clothes to dry. Outdoors if possible, as sun dried clothing smells much better than any fabric softener does.  You don't even have to spend all afternoon pinning stuff to a clothesline like your great-grandma did, either! Our system is beautiful in its simplicity.  We take our clothes out of the washing machine, hang them on clothes hangers, and then hang the hangers on the clothesline.  If you have a smooth line, tie knots in it or use clothespins to keep stuff from sliding back and forth in the breeze.  If you don’t have a line, put one up or buy a portable or retractable one. In summer your clothes will be dry within an hour in direct sunlight, which is a comparable time to many dryers.  If it's raining, you can hang them indoors over curtain rods, from your mantel, or on your shower curtain rod.  Even if it's freezing outside, in direct sunlight your clothes will dry within a few hours. For free.  No kidding.  And UV light is a great sanitizer if you're worried about germs! Here we hang our and towels and unmentionables on racks purchased from Amazon, such as this and this.  Another tidbit we have figured out, is that there is no need to wait until daylight to hang your clothes. In the old days it was nigh unheard of, but there's no harm.  The morning dew won't make your wet clothes wetter.   Do you work nights?  Do a load of laundry after you get home from work and hang it out to dry, even if it's midnight.  It will be dry by lunchtime tomorrow.   This saves wear and tear on your clothes, it saves electricity, it won't create extra static like the dryer, and hanging stuff is kind of a nice, meditative way to spend a few minutes. Take some deep breaths of fresh air, reflect on your day, let go of some anxiety.
Does all of this sound too complicated? Written down it's a lot, but let us take you through a load of laundry we just did.  For the record, it is currently one o'clock in the morning.  It's 31 degrees outside.
1) Put clothes in washer.  Not sorted, just all the clothes in the hamper or off your floordrobe, dumped into the washing machine.
2) It's cold out, so put a tablespoon of detergent into a cup of hot water and stir.  Pour in washer. Put white vinegar in Downy ball, toss in washer.
3) Push start button and go do something else.  Read, take a nap, cook, clean bathroom. Write a long-winded Tumblr post.  Whatever.
4) When load is done, hang shirts and pants on hangers, towels on a rack, and underwear/socks on one of these things.  This is the longest part, and it takes 5-7 minutes, max. You can do it while watching tv or listening to music.
5) Carry your hung up clothes outdoors to the clothesline and hang them up, or to whatever indoor location you have deemed fit if it is raining.  Stick the towel rack outside too, if you like.
These will be dry in a few hours except for very heavy things like thing hoodies or jeans, those may take longer.  Yes, even if it's cool outside.  As long as there is direct sunlight, they will dry.  When you're ready, bring them in. All the clothes are already on hangers, so just stick them in your closet.
Once upon a time we had a lot of drama about laundry.  We had fights over whose turn it was, how much Tide to put in, and who was going to clean the lint trap.  When the dryer broke, we agonized over the three hundred dollars it would take to buy a new one.  That three hundred dollars meant going without cable for two months, it meant scrimping for groceries and paying a late fee on our phone bill.  It was more than an entire paycheck, just to dry our clothes!
Today that same dryer is sitting in our laundry room in disuse.  We have it, for emergencies.  A drink spilled on a work shirt, perhaps, that needs to be worn in 30 minutes.  It's good for fluffing up pillows, on the no-heat setting. It wasn't worth the stress or the tears or the three hundred dollars we put into it all those years ago.  It’s basically a glorified shelf for our detergent now:
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So today, I challenge you, broke person.  Don't wear those grungy jeans for one more day.   Do a load of laundry, as frugally as you can.  Measure your detergent carefully, hang your clothes to dry.  Your clothes will last longer, your utility bill will be lower, and you will have a few minutes of peace and quiet outside.  It's less wear and tear, less electricity, and less stress, and that's a minimalist win.
If you do choose to dry your clothes in a dryer, beware of over-drying as that can cause static and extra wear and tear on your clothes.  Clean out your lint trap, it will make your clothes dry faster and reduce the risk of fire.  If you are too broke to have dryer sheets, wool dryer balls are pretty cheap and effective for fabric softening and reducing static.  We have also heard that you could use tennis balls or a couple balls of wadded up aluminum foil for this purpose.
Happy washing!
Some links: homemade detergent at TSD, and Mr. Electricity's opinion on dryers.
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