#gonna do a big load of laundry today and get some cleaning done with the windows open | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

forestryfae · 7 months

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literally everything has to be some kind of a deal and everything i do HAS to have a comment or criticism attached to it and i HAVE to be commented on constantly. i cant even fucking do my laundry 20:22 cus "isnt it a bit late" NO. THE DOOR SAYS 22:30 IS WHEN YOU CLOSE. why the FUCK cant i just be allowed to do ONE load of laundry at 8 in the evening without criticism and they cant even unlock the fucking door in the morning cus they just dont give a shit. i couldnt have done it earlier cus i was pissed at the staff because of that fucking "you cant have juice flavouring in your water at dinner" NEVR BEEN A RULE + there were SEVERAL people drinking soda at dinner onf riday and ive seen people drink energy drinks at dinner so what the FUCK is the problem. they even put out the flavouring on the dinne rtable yesterday and ive never heard that fucking rule BUT WHEN I DO SOMETHING its a problem and im the only one at fault apparently. meanwhile they cant even unlock the fucking door to the laundryroom so we can wash our fucking clothes without having to ASK THEM to open the door. WHAT. i have wednesday and friday off SPECIFICALLY so i can do laundry and ive been woken up with "good morning are you going to do laundry today it looks like you need to do it" and going downstairs and the door is fucking LOCKED. and then they changed the closingtime from 9pm to 22:30 and told NOONE, so every fucking rule is a guessing game of "am i allowed to do this or am i actually the worst person in the world because i shouldve just known this" and now i cant do laundry so ill have clean clothes for work tomorrow because apparently its "too late" and also fuck me i guess. everything i do is wrong. nothing can be a simple question or request that gets done, everything has to be a big deal

also fuck that girl i went to the store w last saturday, shes very nice and not a bad person but jesus christ it gets kind of grating to have to listen to her constantly comment on everything. they need to do this, they need to do that, this isnt how SHE would have done it and this isnt what SHES used to, why did you just this or that. well for starters i didnt just buy the candy i wanted from a different store cus we were AT ANOTHER STORE. was i supposed to just NOT buy candy? was i supposed to read her fucking mind and just know its slightly cheaper at this other store??? was i supposed to pour the candy out and run to the other store. not to mention we DID go to the other store and they had literally nothing. it was like two things i liked, the other had like 8 of them. not that id know either cus im not a psychic, and neither is she cus she commented on how little they had. i was lucky to even make it INTO the other store too cus the cunt sitting in front of me in the six seater wouldnt fucking move. its one of those minivans that have doors on both sides that go to both the back and the back-est seats but you have to clap the seats together and move them forward to get through. and she had the fucking audacity to go "you guys will have to go out through the other door if you want to go out" THERE WERE TWO GUYS WHO WERENT GONNA GO OUT OF THE CAR. FUCKING MOVE YOU BITCH. the others had already left the car and went inside the other store without me, wtf. and then she had the fucking audacity to ask if i could get through between the door and seat while she was sitting there when i was trying to get back in. OHHHH MY GOD how self centered can you get. "i do NOT wanna sit in the backseat" i dont give a shit. people have to sit in the back sometimes youre not special. unless you get physically ill you have no excuse. and since the roof had windows and those sunscreens they ofc removed them so the three of us in teh back got the sun in our eyes the whole fucking ride up and down. oh my god. can people just not think.

like im trying to keep my cool and not get mad at people cus it feels fucking ba dto get so annoyed and angry over relatively minor things but sometimes i just wanna bite peoples faces off. holy shit. can people just not think. i know were all inpatient and i know not everyones perfect but jesus christ. for just one second i wish people had the capability of selfreflection. i am constantly day ina nd day out monitoring myself so i dont fuck up and i try my best to not be rude or shitty to other people meanwhile its uncomfortable going into the livingroom because we have one guy whos allowed to sit in there and just fucking sulk and be cranky instead of staying in his fucking room until hes able to be around people without biting peoples heads off or sitting there scowling at people when theyre not even fucking talking to him we have that one girl who has zero respect for other peoples time and will gladly ask us to wait half an hour to start watching a movie cus she wants to join but needs to eat first then spends the whole half hour just sitting there talking to people then starting to actually make heer food WHEN WERE ALL GOING DOWNSTAIRS TO WATCH THE MOVIE, then making us wait another half hour so she can eat before changing her mind and the theres that fucking cunt who keeps fucking. i very clearly said to the staff that no, i hadnt been informed about the 9 am takeoff time for a three day trip, i hadnt heard any information about anything even though i asked for info. takeoff time was written literally two days before and i hadnt seen it because i was in my room the whole time feeling like shit. staff insists theyve informed everyone, i point out i havent been informed about anything, the guy just fucking interjects with "they wrote it on the board you shouldve checked" and somehow thats MY fault for not knowing. BUT TEH MILLISECOND some other motherfucker whos been here every day doesnt notice the plans that were made the weekends before and written WITH TIMESTAMPS on monday, the millisecond he didnt know about that on saturday thats a HUGE problem. poor guy didnt get to come along to something he was informed about several days earlier and thats a fucking problem but it was perfectly okay when i wasnt informed

#talkies

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heartfulofsighs · 3 years

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Nice Things…

Hello All! Coming back with little writings here and there as my inspiration comes along. A little episode inside of the Something to do with Jackson sphere (1, 2)

Let me know what you think! @negrowhat you know I gotta tag you in everything lol

Jackson decides you both are in need of a little rest and relaxation. Nothing is better then a nice beach house complete with a gigantic bath tub.

About 4k words; Warnings: Very light smut like its super light, but I’m obligated to say it includes fingering a praise kink and a bathtub.

Laundry shouldn’t be difficult. Well in retrospect it wasn’t difficult at your old apartment. The laundry room there was stocked with 5 very old very worn washing and drying machines. They were faithful and predictable. They only had about 3 options and 2 dials. Simplicity at its best. You missed them every time you had a load to wash and dry. You had been living in Jackson’s apartment for months and you still couldn’t figure out his machines. For one thing they were sleek and black, very modern, apparently super efficient. They worked via a touch screen and the breath of options that appeared every time you fired them up made you nervous. Twice you had shrunk a favorite article of clothing. You had also ruined your running shoes, the washing machine seemed incredibly aggressive to you. But today was going to be different. This was your only task. You could do this. The touch screen lit up, you took a breath, the beeping started and an array of options appeared. Water temperatures, agitation speeds, your finger hovered over the first option- “BABY, THIS IS WHERE YOU WERE!?” Jackson’s voice boomed in the laundry room. You turned, frantic that all his noise would upset whatever fragile understanding you had. “Jackson!” You hissed, “shush!”

His hands snapped to cover his mouth. He looked around his brows knitted, “what’s going on?” He whispered. “I’ just,” you turned back to the machine but you didn’t feel the same confidence, “I’m trying to figure out your stupid space aged washing machine.” You confessed, “everytime I put something in here I ruin it.” “Maybe you’re thinking about it too hard.” He walked up behind you and looked down at the same screen. “Baby?” He began slowly, he touched the screen flicking left twice until he got to a place that said ‘presets’. “Why don’t you just use these instead of trying to pick through all those other settings? This is what I use.” “You’ve got to be kidding me.” You muttered softly. There were easy to understand presets displayed proudly. “You didn’t know about these?” He asked, “I could have sworn I showed you the last time you shrunk your sweater?” You rubbed your face in continued disbelief. All this time. “The dryer has presets too, did I show you those?” He kept talking because of course to him this wasn’t a big deal. You had made it one, once again, something tiny had become huge to you. “You want me to help you with your laundry? Since I’m home today I wanna spend it with you ok?” When you took your hands away from your face he was beaming like the sun at you. You wondered how he could look so worry free. His job was so stressful, he barely got time for himself or you yet he was always beaming. You wanted to be a bit more like him. Just enough so that inanimate objects stopped irritating you for no reason. “If you want to help sure, but this stuff is kinda boring. You sure you don’t want to nap? Or I could make you something to eat?” You offered. “We can do that after, this won’t take long.” He pointed out. He wasn’t wrong. You selected the ‘delicates’ option since you wanted to wash your undies and bras first. “Ok, delicates first then.” You looked in his direction expectantly. The two baskets of laundry were already separated. “Just pass me the stuff in the blue basket.” You instructed, “I’ll do them first.” He dutifully began to hand you clothes. Some things he stopped to look at. “When did you get this bra?” He asked holding up a flowery bra that you had bought a few weeks ago. “Like two weeks ago?” You guessed, maybe three. Your hand was outstretched waiting for it. “Oh,” was all he said before he handed it over, “I haven’t see you wear it.” He said softer. “Well, it’s a bra Jackson…” You tried. He handed you a few pairs of underwear which you put in. He was a touch less cheerful as you finished loading. He helped with the detergent and softner before he got the machine started. “I feel so dumb,” when you turned to him he frowned. “I really wish I had remembered about the presets. I’ve been having a battle with this machine since I got here.” You confessed. “Baby...I really don’t think it’s a big deal.” He leaned down and pecked you. “You can ask me questions you know? Before you make a mountain out of a molehill.” “But I’m so good at that.” You pointed out. He kissed you again. His hands trailing down your arms. When you pulled away he pouted. “Let me at least finish the chores, I have a few things more I wanna clean.” You complained. He accepted this and let you go, “I’m gonna have two weeks off...do you have a lot of work?” He asked. It took you a moment to think about what you had to do, some things could wait and really only one required you to finish immediately. “I just have to finish one job then I think I can take some time off.” You stretched and looked at him with curiosity. “What did you want to do?” He pushed some of your hair behind your ear, “can we go on vacation?” “Where did you want to go?” You spoke as you tied your hair up. “Someplace warm?” You asked. He nodded, “an island!” It seemed like a solid idea. You thought it over, Jackson in his usual fashion grew impatient. He tapped his feet and poked out his lip, “we can have a private beach house…” He edged closer. “That sounds...isn’t that a little extravagant?” You often wondered when you would be able to accept Jackson’s penchant for spending on you. There was something that always made you cringe. “I don’t want you to spend too much-” He frowned and you snapped your mouth closed, “you deserve…” He began. You sighed, “nice things.” He accepted you finishing his sentence quietly before he went back to trying to convince you. “It’ll be private...no cameras...just you and me.” He had basically backed you against the machine. He leaned forward and set his hands on it, caging you in. You couldn’t look away. “We live together but I always miss you,” he kissed you and it was mostly soft. “I’m gone a lot and I feel horrible about it,” he kissed you again nibbling on your bottom lip. “Do you miss me when I’m not here?” “Like crazy.” You whispered. His eyes were on yours, pupils wide. His breathing picked up as you snaked your arms around his neck. “So let me take you to the beach, let’s spend a week....please.” His kiss was less soft more insistent. He pushed until your back was pressed to the machine, the hum seemed to burn through your blood. You kissed him back, hands gripping the hair on the nap of his neck. The time apart always made the time together feel like a single point in the universe. There wasn’t a whole apartment, a whole city, there was just you and Jackson. Starved for each other, hungry to touch and feel. He was so good at making you melt, so good at making you desperate for him. You tasted him and whimpered. The beach was suddenly a fantastic idea, more time alone for more of this. He ground against you and his moan made your knees weak. “Ok,” you managed to say against his lips. He pulled away and beamed at you. The unmistakable look of getting his way. “So we’ll go the day after tomorrow...I actually may have set it up already.” “Jackson.”

You had never been swept away before. In past relationships you had lacked the time and your partners seemed to lack the motivation. It hadn’t bothered you truly because how can you miss something you didn’t have to begin with? You thought about it as you packed and he buzzed around the room with excitement. “Don’t forget bathing suites!” He warned, “and sunscreen!” “I have both.” You answered slowly, “and something nice for dinner...right?” When you looked up he was zipping his bag up. “Yes, and then...not much else…” He raised his eyebrows quickly suggestively and you giggled. He stopped to touch his hand to your leg, “I love you in anything.” “If it was up to you, I’d just walk around naked all the time.” You said slowly. He considered this then said, “only if you want.” Then he was moving again, his energy nervous all throughout the room. “Are you almost done?” He asked. “The car will be here soon.” You just needed to decide on your one nice outfit. It had been a while since you had really gone out. He had seen you in just about everything you owned...except.... At the back of your closet you had hung a tropical print skirt and top set. It was out of your comfort zone but the print would really work. “Hurry hurry baby.” He chided. You had just enough time to grab it from the closet and stuff it into your bag. He took your hand and led you. The smile on his face relaxed yet you could feel the excitement bubbling out of him. He kissed you in the elevator before the doors opened, then led you to the long black car idling at the apartment building’s entrance. He opened the door for you and waited till you were settled before he put the bags in the trunk and got in next to you. Then his hand was back in yours like it belonged there. “Do you think you’ll get recognized at the airport?” You tried your best not to sound nervous but the thought of screaming fans made your stomach heavy. “I don’t think so, we’ll be in then out.” He brought your linked hands up for a kiss. “Don’t be nervous, it’ll be fine.” You settled into the seat and tried your best not to worry. The media in a way wasn’t very interested in you and Jackson’s story anymore. When they did happen to catch photos of you two together it wasn’t big news but most of the comments were still pretty awful. It was better for your mental health to not read them but every so often you saw yourself online and couldn’t stop yourself from looking. The general take was that you were literally a weight dragging him down. It never seemed like a good idea to comment back, better to just read it all in silence, and really it wasn’t all bad. There was a spattering of people who liked you. Who said nice things and said they were cheering on the relationship. People who pointed out that Jackson was happier with you in his life. You weren’t sure if you would give yourself that much credit but you hoped that he felt how you did. He leaned over, “what are you thinking about so hard?” He planted a kiss on your cheek startling you out of your own head. He had a way of knowing when you were thinking yourself down a rabbit hole. He redirected you gently and patiently. His hand squeezed yours again. “Nothing, just the work I left...hopefully I did enough.” You said. He knew it wasn’t that, but he didn’t push.. He kissed you on the cheek again, “don’t worry about it, just try your best to relax.” He whispered. It took you a moment of second guessing, but there was no real use in fighting with Jackson. Especially since you actually did need a relaxing vacation. There would be no worries on the beach, that’s all you had to tell yourself over and over and over again.

There weren’t any cameras, no reporters, no mobs of fans. He had his mask pulled up and dark sunglasses on. You were wearing one of his caps and your own mask pulled up. The two of you looked like any couple on their way to a romantic trip. He only let go of you to pass through security. Once his hand was out of yours there were new worries. An airplane. The last time you had flown you were forced between a grumpy office worker and a woman who seemed to have bathed in perfume. You remember distinctly how the office worker had complained about her perfume and how she called him lonely and sad. It had been for the most part very unpleasant. Suddenly all you could think about were all your worse flights. You fumbled through security, including the awkward second search. Taking his hand on the other side calmed you down a little bit. “You’re making a mountain again.” He said into your ear. “I can’t remember ever having a good flight,” you squeezed his hand and almost missed a step. “Every flight that lands safely is a good flight baby.” He chimed happily and just like that you relaxed a bit. He was right of course. Bad seatmates didn’t make a bad flight. Small things didn’t have to be big. Once again you tried to calm yourself, to convince yourself that you were on vacation. You were being swept away and it would be great if all your extra thoughts could be swept away too.

“This is the house?” After a flight you slept through, and an ok trip through the airport that involved a car rental associate who was star struck, here the two of you were. The house was directly on the beach. From the outside it didn’t look like much which made you feel a bit better. If he had rented a beach mansion or something along those lines you would have worried the whole trip about how much all of it had cost and...and if you were really worth all the trouble. But this,...this was so quaint and so cozy. “This is it.” He pulled into the driveway and then put the car into park. You got out admiring the house’s slightly cracked white paint, the green ivy underneath the two small windows on either side of the weathered wooden door. The waves sounded incredibly close and you guessed the beach was literally right in your backyard. Jackson was behind you with your bags. “Here,” when you turned he was holding the key towards you all smiles, “open her up.” He instructed. The key got stuck for a moment in the lock. You panicked per usual but it gave when you pushed your shoulder against the heavy wood. “Be careful,” he clucked his tongue at you but you ignored him. You were stuck looking at the inside. Everything was so bright. You sucked in a breath because of all the light. There were huge skylights all throughout. The entryway was neat, a small blue weathered table held a bowl where Jackson dropped the car keys. He pressed his hand to the small of your back and your feet automatically started to shuffle step forward. The entryway opened into a small kitchen with white tile and teal cabinets. The appliances didn’t look new aged or terrifying like Jackson’s. The big white well loved looking stove was comforting. Through the kitchen There was an open airy dinning room and living room. The living room ended in two gigantic glass doors that opened onto a hedge enclosed patio. The bricks were weathered but still a good red. There was a round picnic table with a few shelves, a rack with two surfboards, and what looked like a hot tub. He wrapped his arms around your waist and kissed your cheek, “let’s look at the bedroom.” It was through a doorway off the kitchen, past a half bathroom. The bedroom suite seemed to be all windows. There were three huge windows with breezy white curtains. The bed was gigantic four poster deal, piled high with pillows at the head. The comforter was white like everything else. “There’s one of those clawfoot tubs,” He led you a little further in, towards the doorway of the bathroom. The tub was huge. There was a shower head on the wall above it. Another two windows, more light. “This place is beautiful.” You finally got out. He squeezed your hand, “I know you like simple things and I thought this place would be nice. The beach is right down a back path and-” You tipped your chin up lips pursed asking for him to dip and kiss you. “Thank you so much for bringing me,” you spoke against his lips. He wrapped his arms around your waist. “You’re welcome.” His smile was triumphant. He only let you go to help unpack but beamed the entire time like a happy child. You knew this look, his eyes were centered on yours. He licked his lips before he kissed you. “I picked this house because it’s cozy and…” He trailed off to kiss you again. “And?” “And you never wanna have fun in my bathtub so I made sure that this house had one that was so big you couldn’t argue with me about soaking together.” He explained. “Jackson.” He beamed again his face back to innocence, “don’t you want to soak with me?” He asked. “You don’t just want to soak,” you pointed out. He shrugged, “humor me.” In truth he had begged to soak with you plenty of times but the tub in his apartment made you nervous. You had this vision of the two of you settling in and getting stuck or getting in and overflowing the tub in an embarrassing splash. Well maybe it wouldn’t be embarrassing to him but in your mind it was motifying. You bit your bottom lip and considered the big claw foot tub in the house again. “I guess there’s no harm in a nice soak.” You said softly. He could barely contain his excitement, he moved deliberately trailing his hands down your waist then squeezing. He searched your face before he broke out into a grin that made you laugh. “Jackson,” it was hard not to laugh at him. “Jackson right now? You don’t want to eat first?” He cocked his head, “I do, but let’s do that later, my back hurts from the flight.” You made a ‘sure’ face but didn’t argue. It was better to humor him, he gave your bottom another not so gentle squeeze before kissing the top of your head. “So a nice bath, then I’ll make you food,...” he trailed off and took your hand.

The fragrance from the bubble bath he found was making your head feel dreamy and relaxed. His back was against one side of the tub and yours was on the other. He insisted on massaging your feet and there really wasn’t any huge point to arguing. He rubbed away while you sighed slowly to yourself. “You have the cutest little feet.” He murmured. “They’re so gross.” Your response was automatic, years of having being told they were flawed in some way meant that you were use to parroting back the words when you were complimented. “They’re perfect on you.” He dug deep into the sole of your foot and you couldn’t help but groan. “Always say nice things about yourself.” He murmured. “Yeah I know.” You sunk lower into the water and he took the invitation to work his hands up your leg. It was hard for you to say nice things about yourself all the time. You were use to your self deprecating jokes. But he was quick to redirect them, he always told you to make it nice instead. His hands were steady on your body focusing your mind back into the moment. It was never gonna be just a soak, but you didn’t do anything to stop him. He felt the back of your knee and a shiver ran up your body. His eyes were focused on your skin, “you’ll let me do this at home now right?” He pulled himself a little closer so his hands could go further up, “a nice hot bath, foot massages.” “You’re very good at them,” your voice was barely above a whisper. His eyes seemed to darken. He leaned farther forward, upsetting the water and bubbles so he could kiss your forehead. Under the water his hand had made it all the way up which meant his fingers were in a prime position to rub you where you were most sensitive. He kept the pressure light, teasing you. A whine broke past your lips. He ducked his head and kissed you. “I want you to relax,” he said softly against your lips, he dipped his fingers inside of you. It was so hard not to squirm, he pulled them back and forth slowly before he stopped. You gripped the sides of the the tub and tried to urge him to move. His eyes were mischievous. “Jackson,” You tried to roll your hips to get him to do anything but tease you. He cocked his head, “say something nice about yourself.” The command confused you. Your brow furrowed and for a moment you were confused, “what?” He pulled his hand completely away and touched your face instead. “I read that it’s nice to hear compliments from others but reinforcing it with words you say to yourself is even better.” His voice was earnest his hand dipped into the water again and found your breast. “Something nice…” He played with your nipple and you whimpered. Your mind was reaching for something, any sort of compliment that would make sense. “I like my thighs.” He beamed, triumphant, then pinched your nipple lightly, “what else baby? You’re so beautiful there’s a million things to compliment.” You were so use to his praise that it was hard to give yourself the same attention. He switched to your other nipple and kissed your forehead again. “One more.” He encouraged. You swallowed, his hands sending pleasure and want all throughout your body. You willed your brain and your mouth to talk, to say something so he would give you what you needed. “I have nice skin...the cream you gave me makes it so soft.” You admitted. He liked that, he kissed you harder. He had both hands involved now, tickling the sides of your tummy. The giggle that escaped your mouth made his smile even wider. “The most perfect skin.” He spent the rest of the bath praising you. Cooing all his favorite compliments while he played with your body. It didn’t take long before your hands gripped the side of the tub and you called his name. Your body locked and then the pleasure ripped through your limbs in what felt like a blaze. Dimly you knew you had splashed water and maybe that would have embarrassed you, but there were more important things. Like the way you still shook while he kissed you everywhere he could reach. If you felt dreamy before your mind was downright foggy now. “You liked that baby?” He asked, finally pulling away to look at you. Your bones felt like jelly, thank god the tub wasn’t too deep. There was no doubt in your mind you would have melted further into the water. It took you what felt like hours to barely nod your head and indicate that yes you had indeed liked it. “It’s so cute when you say my name like that.” he went back to sitting across the tub from you, a smug smile on his face. You didn’t know what face you were making but hopefully it was satisfied. “Let’s just spend the rest of the time here.” You finally got out. He didn’t argue with you, just rested his head on the rim of the tub, “as long as you’re happy that’s all I care about.” You sat up a little, “I’m the happiest I’ve been in forever.” “Perfect.” He spoke softly and maybe it was more to himself than you but he was right. The feeling was perfect.

#jackson wang #team wang #got7 jackson wang #jackson wang smut #jackson wang fanfic #jackson takes you on vacay #and it was magical times #tub time #who doesnt love a good soak #kpop fanfic #something to do with jackson universe #say nice things to yourself

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gallavictorious · 3 years

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Lmao your tags about Mickey being a laundry lover, I can just imagine him being the ‘Laundry Guy’ of their household, like everyone knows this is the thing Mickey does and maybe he takes comfort in the familiarity and domesticity of it? Maybe he’s really good at getting blood out of clothes and knows weird tricks for hard to remove stains

Ah, Mickey, the Laundry Guy of 2119 North Wallace! You might be onto something here, nonnie...

See, by and large I think that Mickey is – ahem – not overly concerned about doing his share of household chores. Contributing money is a given (as long as he gets to determine the means of procuration himself), and if he's confronted with something that (he thinks) needs doing right away and no one else is doing it, sure, he can boil some pasta or wash a couple of plates or take out the trash, but he has an exceedingly high tolerance for disorder so he's not likely initiate a spring clean or even bother with vacuuming the living room once a week just to keep it nice. A result of his upbringing, I'd imagine: the Gallaghers are pretty messy but the Milkoviches takes it to a whole nother level and while Mickey has come around on personal hygiene since he first met Ian, cleanliness still doesn't rank very high with him (as evidenced by Ian's complaints in 10x02 and his ignoble treatment of the couch pillow in 11x02). He... just doesn't care, and Mickey's not the sort to bother with things he doesn't see the point of just because you're supposed to (or because anyone nags him about it).

But clean clothes are nice, so laundry needs to happen once in a while and he does have some expertise from working the prison laundry. I can well see him walking past say Ian or Debbie putting things in, and noticing them doing some Common Laundry Mistake and going “no, no, no, can't put in like that, you gotta... “ (Yeah, I don't know what you've gotta, I don't even seperate my whites, so if the laundry science in this piece is bad, well, tough titties.)

Ian or Debbie, not in love with washing and finding it a little rich that Mickey of all people would have opinions on how they handle household work, just gives him an unimpressed glare: “Fine. You do it then.”

(I wanna say it's Carl putting things in, but if he might just end up doing as told and if he tried to get Mickey to do it instead, Mickey wouldn't, so it has to be Ian or possibly Debbie.)

And they walk away, leaving Mickey with a pile of dirty clothes and spluttering protests but some of those dirty clothes are his dirty clothes and he's all out of clean boxers so whatever. Muttering he sets his beer aside and sets to the task, and... it doesn't take very long? It isn't particularly hard? And it gets done right, which is a little satisfying.

So maybe he starts doing the laundry, if only so he can say that he does something if one bigmouthed Gallagher sibling or another starts going on about other chores. No, I'm not gonna scrub the kitchen floor, I already did two fucking loads of laundry today. No, it's not my turn to cook fucking dinner, Debbie, 'cause I just sorted like three dozen of socks for Franny and why the hell does the kid need so many socks anywway?

(Does he refuse to wash Carl's uniform? Does he 'accidentally' mix the light blue shirt up with Ian's new colour bleeding jeans one too many times? Bitch, he might.)

And the thing is, maybe he doesn't hate it. Maybe he finds it strangely soothing; meditative, even, if that was the sort of word he'd ever use. It's something to occupy his hands for a bit, at least, and the smell of clean laundry isn't horrible and the warmth of soft clothes fresh from the dryer isn't either and neither is doing something he's (unexpectedly) good at and which the rest of the family appreciates him doing.

Not like he fucking cares what they think or whatever, but... yeah. You know. It's okay.

Once it becomes obvious that laundry is Mickey's Thing now, the Gallaghers' instinct will be to poke a little gentle fun at him, 'cause getting real serious about stain removal just seems so at odds with his abrasive bad boy persona, but Ian quickly suggests that maybe they don't? Mickey is sensitive, after all, and if they make too big a deal out of it he might decide that they can do their own laundry from now on. (This doesn't stop Ian from poking some fun at his husband, but that's not the same at all. Mickey will happily tell him to fuck off, or to retort with some imaginative insult or other, and more often than not it ends with playful wrestling and we all know how that usually develops.)

Obviously this whole thing has to end with Fiona coming back for a visit. It's her first time home since she left and she didn't tell anyone she was coming, so when she walks through the kitchen door the only person there is her brother-in-law, busy by the washing machine, and Fiona finally gets her wish to see Mickey washing undies.

“Hi, Mickey,” she'll say, slowly closing the door behind her. It's weird being back, and weirder still to step into her childhood home and realize that she’s a visitor in the house of Mickey Milkovich. It’s not bad, really; just weird. “Need some help with that?”

Mickey will look up, and if he's surprised to see her he doesn't show it. “Hey,” he says, easy as anything. “Sure. You know where to find the iron.”

#didn't expect to ever spend this much time thinking about mickey milkovich and laundry #but here we are #and it was FUN so thanks a lot nonnie <3 <3 <3 #asks #mickey milkovich #gallavich #meta ficlet #my stuff

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bitch-im-your-biggest-nightmare · 4 years

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Parenting 200!

Hey people, its ya boy, the bitch. I’m making another one of these cuz someone asked and YES. Corpse Husband x Son yes. Tags: @save-the-sky @alilshit @whatifwedo @hughugh20@fleurmoon @bi-andready-tocry @itsminniekat @yoongi-holland@loraleiix @hacker-ghost @fanworrior @marvelous-musicals @annshit @unknown-and-invisible @letsloveimagines @babyhoneystvles

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Corpse was running some errands (which he really didn’t wanna do) with Tyler (that's what we calling him)- his son. Y/N was home relaxing and doing her thing, she already did enough. She cleaned the entire house, woke up early to make them both an amazing breakfast, did the laundry, and made sure Corpses office space was nice and well kept so he could be in a nice area to record and stream. Corpse told Y/N that she needed to get some rest when she said she needed to go out to run some errands- he also made the mistake of deciding to bring a literal toddler around with him.

Now don’t him wrong- He loved Tyler more than he loved himself, but Tyler can be a little shit sometimes. This child has gotten into a rainbow of different substances.

Vaseline. “What the hell- what is that- what is that on your face?” Corpse asked, though he already knew. “Baseline.” They said, rubbing their hands together.

Coconut butter. “You know better than this Tyler! Now you look all shiney!” Corpse said as he washed coconut butter off of Tyler. “Iz fun.” Tyler replied while Corpse just let out an exasperated sigh.

Baby powder. “Tyler what the hell!-” Corpse yelled as he walked in and saw Tyler pouring baby powder down his pants. Tyler looked up at him and said “go way.” ANd when Corpse just stared and then Tyler yelled, “go WAY!” Cake. “Sweetie! That was for your father!” Y/N said as she saw Tyler sitting on the ground shoving his face with chocolate cake. His hands were covered in it and his mouth was a mess. Tyler looked at her innocently and said “Izs mine!” Corpses clothes. Corpse walked into the closet to put some brand new hoodies away when he saw none other than Tyler chilling there covered in Corpses clothes. It was a mess. Corpe just stared and shut the closet door, not wanting to deal with that just yet. Y/Ns clothes. Y/N walked into the closet to see the mess. Tyler was putting on her heals and wearing her scarfs. She sighed and took a picture of a very surprised Tyler. Then she went to go yell at Corpse. Deodorant. “No no no no no NO NO NO!” Y/N yelled as she pulled the deodorant away from Tyler's hands. He was crushing it all up and smearing it on the floor. “It smell gud.” Tyler said innocently as he was picked up. Soap. “Tyler no no no! Take that out of your mouth!” Y/N screamed as she saw Tyler put dish soap in his mouth. She panicked and immediately told him to spit it out. Not even a second later Corpse came tripping into the room asking what the hell happened. Y/Ns pads. “Tyler no-” Corpse said as he wheezed. Tyler was sticking Y/Ns period pads onto his body. “They stickers!” Tyler laughed, opening another one. Corpse fell onto the floor in sheer laughter, not being able to breathe. Corpses Stream. Corpse left to take a quick pee while he was streaming with his friends. While he was gone, Tyler snuck into his office and joined in as a replacement. “Haii” Tyler said, causing laughter. “Whos this?” Sykkuno asked. They all knew Corpse was a father but never heard anything else about him. “Tyver.” Tyler said, making everyone nearly cry from the cuteness. When Corpse came back, he sighed and took his headset away. “Uhm-” Corpse was cut off, “HEY WHAT ARE YOU DOING PUT TYVER BACK ON!”

They were all memories. Some good, most bad. None in the middle. He was currently in the store grabbing some things for Y/N. She got her period like just this morning and she was running out of pads so he needed to cop some of those and the more important things. Every female reading this oneshot who has gotten their period will understand the following. He threw oreo cookies, red velvet oreo cookies, hershey's chocolate chip cookies, more cookies, two whole bags of snickers, three whole bags of kit kats, chocolate milk, and a chocolate cake into the cart. Then lastly, he awkwardly strolled into the feminine product isle where two other females were. Tyler was jumping around looking at everything and Corpse was avoiding eye contact.

One of the girls looked at his cart, looked at him, looked at Tyler, looked at the cart, and back at him and said “She hit it hard didn’t she?”

Corpse looked at her and sighed, “Yeah...” then he picked out the kind he always saw in the bathroom and then dragged Tyler away and out of the isle.

“Nooo! Im still looking!” Tyler whined.

“Well you’re done looking.” Corpse said, walking up to the check out area and checking his stuff out himself. He already felt enough anxiety today so all he really wanted to do was go home and cuddle with Y/N and watch Shrek for the fifthteenth time with Tyler.

After he bagged everything he pushed the cart out of the store and towards their car. Tyler was jumping around again and being a little shit, so Corpse had to pick him up and hold him and load groceries into the car one handed. Painful. After loading the groceries he set Tyler down and went to bring the cart back.

On his way back, Tyler latched himself onto Corpses leg and cried. Good lord. “I want icereeeeem!” Tyler whined as Corpse sighed, dragging him around.

“Tyler we already spent enough! Mom will share some of her food!” Corpse said, tugging Tyler off of his leg like a cat and walking him to the car. Tyler kept complaining and screaming, but Corpse did his best not to listen. But while driving home, the screaming got worse, and Corpse gave in.

“FINE DAIRY QUEEN IT IS!” Corpse yelled, immediately apologizing for yelling. Then he took a sharp turn and headed to DQ to get this toddler an icecream cone (And Y/N an oreo blizzard, but don't tell). He really didn’t wanna pull into the drive thru, but his anxiety said indoors is worse so he pulled into the line. It was November so Corpse did not understand why there was so many people in the line. Corpse sighed, trying to ignore Tylers whining. “I know it’s long and annoying but we have to wait Tyler.”

“I want icecreeeemm!” Tyler whined, and Corpse began to grow frustrated. He loved Tyler, but he really wanted to get home. Y/N was probably scrunched up in agony with her period pains and when he gets home shes gonna be fucking dead. Yes you heard me. Dead. Corpse didn’t want to go to court for being blamed of his girlfriend's death.

During the wait he actually got a call from Y/N. He instantly picked it up, saying hello.

“Where are you?!” Y/N complained. She was hungry, in pain, and worried. Corpse and Tyler should’ve been home an hour ago. But instead they were stuck in a DQ drive thru.

“Dairy Queen. Tyler wants an icecream cone.” Corpse sighed, “He’s been a pain the ass so far...”

“He’s always a pain in the ass but we love him.” Y/N chuckled, “Can you get me a cookie dough blizzard?”

“Oh. Ok.” Corpse was surprised. Y/N always went for that legendary oreo blizzard. Guess he’ll get it for himself then. “Are you feeling ok?”

“Mmm no. Periods suck. Men will never feel real pain.” Y/N groaned, and Corpse rolled his eyes playfully.

“Say that next time people are calling me sus in Among Us.” Corpse laughed, “Oh- I gotta go, this lines finally moving.”

“Ok, bye love you~” Y/N said.

“Love you too.” Corpse said before hanging up. He got up to the speaker and breathed in, trying to order his food without getting nervous. Social anxiety sucks, I don’t recommended having social anxiety. He stuttered a little, but it wasn’t too bad. When he got his food, he quickly got the fuck out of there and zoomed back to his place.

When he got to a stop light, he handed Tyler his ice cream cone. Almost immediately he began to chow down, his teeth didn’t even seem sensitive at this moment. It impressed Corpse. His boy was something else.

When he finally made it home, he had many things to do. He got Tyler out of the car safely and picked up all the bags full of food with one arm. On the other, he held Tyler and the ice cream. From there, he made his way into apartment building like a goddamn champ. Sure, he was in pain, sure his muscles were gonna burst, but this, this guys, is what real men do. He is a super dad, he will do what no man ever dares to do.

People were looking at him, it made him uncomfortable. He was glad the apartment had elevadors. Tyler kept eating his ice cream loudly, which made Corpses pain ever worse. When he finally got to the door, he lifted his already weakened arm and turned the doorknob, shoving himself into the room.

“Honey I’m home!” Corpse said tiredly, dropping the bags on the floor and lightly setting Tyler down. He walked over to the living room, seeing Y/N laying in a mess of blankets and pillows on the floor. She was wearing one of Corpses hoodies that were way too big on her. She looked distressed, but when Corpse put a cookie dough blizzard in front of her, she looked up and took it.

“You look like a mess.” Y/N laughed, sitting with her legs crossed and beginning to eat.

“I’ve had a long day.” Corpse chuckled and sat next to Y/N in the mess. “Tyler seemed to have fun I guess.”

“What do you mean I guess?” Y/N chuckled into her words.

“Oh you know how Tyler is baby.” Corpse took a big bite of his blizzard, “I bought everything you will need for a week.”

“Great!” Y/N leaned in and kissed Corpse on the cheek. Corpse blushed a little, but smiled. Next thing they know, they are cuddling against each other and eating their blizzards. This was the only way to make Y/N happy while she was on her period.

Then heard a loud crash.

“waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!”

“God fuckin’ damNI-”

#corose husband #father corpse husband

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dc41896 · 3 years

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Attention

Pairing: Johnny “Human Torch” StormxBlack Reader

⚠️: Tiny bit of angst (if it even counts really), also tiny bit of implied happy times, but mostly fluff💕!

Re-reading over your notes for what felt like the millionth time this week, you softly mumble to yourself the highlighted material hoping that everything would remain stuck in your mind for your practical tomorrow.

“Intramuscular means within the muscle and is given at a 90 degree angle. Intravenous means within the vein, given at a 25 degree angle. Subcutaneous: in the subcutaneous layer at a 45 degree angle. And finally intradermal-,”

“Psst....psst!!”

If only your boyfriend would stop being a grown man child and let you finish studying though.

“Yes Johnny?,” you sigh still looking down at your binder.

“Take a break, I want to show you something.”

“No Johnny we’re not doing that again.”

“I wasn’t talking about that princess,” he smirks moving to lean against the bedroom door frame. “Although I’m not complaining if you want more.”

Giving him a look clearly showing how you weren’t in the mood, he chuckles holding up his hands to show he was done joking.

“Seriously though I want to show you something, so can you please come with me?”

“Just tell me, or take a picture of it on your phone and show me that way. I really have to keep studying and don’t have time for a bunch of breaks.” Straightening up, a low huff leaves his lips as you hear him pad through the living room before coming back holding a new action figure posed as if about to throw a handful of flames.

“Look! It’s me!,” he beams squatting next to you holding out the toy for you to see.

“Mhm that’s nice babe,” you smile not really displaying the reaction he wanted you to.

“I see you’re having a hard time containing your excitement,” he retorts sarcastically, bringing his mini me back towards his chest.

“It really is nice babe, it’s just similar to some of your other toys that I’ve already seen.”

“But with this one, the little flame lights up. See?” Pressing the small button on the back to show the tiny, plastic flame glowing scarlet, a wide smile spreads across his face making you giggle.

“Yes very cool. Now if that’s all, I gotta get back to this okay?”

“Alright,” he sighs standing up to return to his spot on the couch probably cold by now. “Why don’t you come study out here? It’ll be more comfortable than sitting on the floor.”

“Because you’re watching tv and that’s gonna distract me.”

“Not anymore. The game’s off so I’m done for the night,” he playfully smiles stealing one of your study packets making you whine his name. “Cmon you know you’d rather sit on the big, soft, incredibly comfy couch.”

Wiggling his brows, you roll your eyes trying to focus back on the words in front of you, but as always, seeing his adorable pout was wearing you down. Plus the ache in your buttcheeks was really making the couch, or any soft piece of furniture for that matter, sound like heaven.

“And, as an added bonus, your incredibly hot, charming, all around amazing boyfriend will be there.”

“Johnny...”

“As!...support and to help anyway I can of course. What did you think?,” he feigns shock as you shake your head.

“Alright fine. But if you try to distract me just once, I’m kicking you out for the rest of the night, and you’ll have to either get a hotel, or crash with Reed and Sue.”

“Okay deal,” he chuckles helping you stand and gather the packets, pens, and highlighters you needed to continue your attempted all nighter.

Sat in the middle of the plush sectional with one of his legs draped over your folded ones and the other stretched out behind you, so far he’d done well on his agreement. He stayed busy on his phone watching sports highlights with earbuds attached to his head, and hardly ever touched you unless to give a reassuring hug when he could sense you were getting overwhelmed, or softly dance his finger along your arm making you smile. He even started quizzing you from whichever packet you were on as you lied just below his chest playing with his free hand.

From how he was earlier, seemingly a bit more clingy and not wanting to be away from you, something told you deep down this was all he wanted. Just feeling your body near him as you did whatever, no matter how boring the task was. And although a little distracting, you couldn’t be completely mad at him for his antics since deep down you know you wanted it too.

Honestly need may be the better word judging from your noticeably calmer state. Even Johnny could feel your heart rate gradually decrease to its normal speed through his body.

Soon his yawn began to trigger your own set and eyelids became heavy as the questions came slower along with your answers. You tried to fight it off, but apparently your body had other plans making it increasingly more difficult to open your eyes until both of your light snores were the only sound that could be heard throughout the room.

———

“Good morning Mr. Johnny Storm, Miss Y/N,” the computerized security system greets opening the curtains to reveal the bright sun and cause you to stir. Rubbing your eyes, you see all the packets spread on the glass coffee table quickly reminding you of your exam.

“Sherlock, what time is it?,” you ask in a panic as you sit up causing Johnny to shift slightly without opening his eyes.

Also, why he decided to name the computer system Sherlock, you’d never understand.

“11:30 am miss.”

Grabbing your packets as fast as you can, a string of curses fall from your lips as you run about trying to collect your things. By now you were supposed to be on campus looking over your notes one last time before going in for your slot time at 12. At this rate, you’d definitely be over an hour late and received an automatic zero.

“What’s the rush princess?,” your boyfriend tiredly asks stretching his arms over his head as he stands.

“I overslept and I’m late,” you sniff trying to hold back your tears as you search through drawers trying to find your scrubs. “Where are they?”

Joining you in the room, he tries to kiss your cheek only to miss you completely as you rush past him still looking for your clothes.

“Closet babe. By my suit.”

“Well what about the other ones since those need to be washed now?”

“In the basket to be washed.”

“You mean the same clothes in the basket I asked you to wash last weekend,” you retort changing into the faint ash smelling scrubs. Noticing you wiping your eyes a bit more frequently, he manages to grab your arm stopping you from wherever else you needed to go.

“Johnny seriously I don’t have time for this-,”

“Relax okay? Let’s try to call your professor and tell them what happened to see if you can get a new time.”

“It’s not gonna work. This isn’t an emergency situation, I just overslept like an idiot,” you answer pulling away to finish the rest of your morning routine in the bathroom.

He sighs hearing you bang about while pulling his phone from the pocket of his sweatpants trying to find the number for your school. His upcoming events list popping up though makes him deeply chuckle as he shakes his head.

“Oh honey...!”

“Johnny please don’t start. I’m already frustrated a-and overwhelmed trying to figure out what to do and just need to-.” Holding his phone in front of your eyes, you see his calendar showing all his important meetings and interviews, along with your test date.

Which wasn’t until next Monday.

Pulling your phone from your backpack, you go to your calendar to find the same thing making you feel even dumber.

“...S-So I don’t have my test today?”

“No princess,” he smiles coming closer to caress your face with both hands, wiping your tears with his thumbs.

“And I stayed up all night this week studying for nothing?”

“Well not for nothing. You know your stuff now, so you won’t have to worry about it later.”

“Yea,” you sigh looking up at him as you hold onto his strong forearms. “Sorry for snapping at you about the laundry, and for kinda being cranky yesterday.”

“You were stressed. I get it.”

“But still, there were things I could’ve said differently-.”

“I forgive you,” he smiles leaning in to meet your soft lips with his in a needy kiss he’d been craving since yesterday. Biting your bottom lip as he just barely pulls away, your hands wander from his forearms to his flexed biceps, shoulders, and eventually chest stopping to graze your index finger along the small dip below his neck.

“Well since I don’t have an exam today and no classes, I was thinking...”

“Oh I think I know,” he smirks tilting his head lower to nip at your jaw and neck making you giggle.

“I help you do the laundry.” As soon as the sentence left your mouth, his stopped making you laugh harder while he groaned against your skin.

“Alright I promise it’ll get done today, but can’t we do it later?,” he whines with puppy eyes, lifting you so your legs could wrap around his hips as if trying to persuade you.

“Let me finish. We do the laundry so I can have clean scrubs and between loads, I give you all the attention I know you’ve been wanting that I wasn’t fully able to give this week.”

“Hey it’s not like I’ve been that-,” he tries to deny before meeting your eyes as if they were saying “really?”

“...yes please,” he smiles before his mouth returns to your smiling lips.

Taglist: @fumbling-fanfics @honeychicanawrites @honeychicana @lady-olive-oil @themyscxiras @melinda-january @lovelymari4 @maxcullen @literaturefeen @damnitaa @curlyhairclub @plokyu23 @fullofmelaninsarcasmandepression @nunubug99 @felicity-x0 @ellixthea @jnk-812 @jojolu @brwn-sgr @captainsamwlsn @wildfirecracker @nina-sj @iammyownlover @chaneajoyyy @secretmysteriousperson @scoop93535

If anybody wants to be tagged, has asked to be tagged but don’t see your name, only want to be tagged for certain people I write for (can be found on my masterlist), or no longer wish to be tagged just let me know🤓!

#johnnyxwoc #johnnyxblackreader #johnnyxreader #johnny storm #fantastic four #chrisxblackreader #chrisxwoc #chrisxreader #chris evans

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fxkthatdairy · 4 years

Note

Number 7 from the nsfw prompt with boyfriend grayson and word 'oh fuck-'

Hope you enjoy :) feel free to send in any requests or concepts :)

7. to catch my muse naked

Warnings: Smutty Undertones ;)

Grayson had been outside building pieces of bedroom furniture all day with Ethan since they moved into the new house and Grayson’s sweet girlfriend (Y/N) decided to be a big help and assist Sterling with cleaning the house as well as starting to unpack some of the bags. It was now around 6:30 and Sterling had already gone home, leaving (Y/N) the only one inside the house. She decided to check on the boys and bring them some cold water since she hadn’t seen them come inside in a while to get some. She grabbed two water bottles and headed outside, the twins were currently debarking a tree stump.

“Hey babe, I brought you and E some water and came up here to just check on you both,” (Y/N) said approaching the twins carefully, making sure not to step on anything.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Grayson said and reached over to grab his water bottle and hand Ethan his. He then kissed (Y/N) on the cheek and started to chug down the water.

“Damn y’all got a lot done today, Sterling went home and I’m gonna finish the last bit of laundry and then hop in the shower, how long do you think you have left out here,”

“About an hour and then we’ll be inside, I think we are gonna order some vegan pizza for dinner, anyways I love you and thank you for all the help, we’ll be in soon,” Grayson said, giving (Y/N) a final kiss on the cheek before getting back to work.

(Y/N) went back inside and threw the last load of laundry in the dryer and took the current clean load to the bedroom to be folded. She played some simple music faintly in the background as she folded a mixture of her clothes and Graysons clothes, making sure they got to where they belonged. By the time she was done folding that load of laundry, she went and grabbed the last load from the dryer and placed it on the bed. She looked at the time and decided that she was going to go ahead and jump in the shower real quick. She stripped out of her clothes and walked into the bathroom. She took a quick shower, making sure not to use all of the hot water, knowing the boys would be in any minute now and would want to take a shower. What she didn’t know was that her boyfriend had already come inside from working and was heading into their shared bedroom. She stepped out of the room naked, after drying off, she planned on dressing when she got into the bedroom. It surprised her when she felt two arms wrap around her waist as she reached into her clothes drawer.

“Oh fuck-,” She said startled but was shushed by a finger being pressed against her lips.

“Shh, I was quite surprised to find you in here like this, but damn am I glad that I did, I’ve been working so hard, are you gonna let daddy have a treat,” Grayson whispered seductively into (Y/N)’s ear.

(Y/N) was shocked but intrigued. She could feel her arousal starting to drip down her legs. She nodded her head softly.

“Nope, I need your words, princess,” Grayson said as he slowly pushed her towards the bathroom. At least he had a little bit of common sense not to dirty up the bed with his sweat.

“I’m all yours Daddy,” (Y/N) whispered as she stepped back into the shower.

“Good, time to get this party started,” Grayson said, stripping off his clothes.

#grayson dolan imagines #grayson dolan #graysondolan #grayson dolan smut #smut #dolan twins #dolan twins imagines #dolan twins smut #my writings #send requests and concepts plz

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champhangman · 3 years

Text

Recipe for a Perfect Christmas - Part 9

Title: Recipe for a Perfect Christmas Part: 9/12 Theme: Day #9: Tree / Decorating Fandom / Character(s): AEW / Nick Jackson x OFC Warnings: None. A little cursing? Word Count: 4,585 Soundtrack: Spotify Previously: Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Summary: In the space of six months, Natalie Gibbs lost her fiancé, her job, her apartment, and what little bit of cheer she had. Moving back home after being on her own for years, she hopes to get back on her feet after the holidays. But a nosy best friend, a stubborn coot of a father, and a handsome new neighbor might change her plans, her holidays, and her life. Notes: My entry for day 9 of @12daysofchristmas

The Tag Crew: @adampage / @cowboyshit / @lilmisswhiskeygypsy / @bigpixiefoot / @mindofasagittaruis / @kalliravenne / @sadlittlecountess / @baronsbelleevangeline / @brie-mode-activated / @xbreezymeadowsx / @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch / @wardl0w / @hotyeehawman / @waywardwrestlewritingwaif / @drewshoneybadger / @mysteryoflovve / @knnyomega / @rampagewriting / @hurricanranabaybay / @linziland13 / @bastardkingbrutalizer / @snarkandsarcasmftw / @rubyred1980 / @champnick / @edgecution / @nething4perfection / (please drop me an ask/send me a message/reply to my post if you’d like to be tagged)

***

Part 9 – Grown A Little Colder

Natalie stared at the long box sitting in the foyer while the UPS driver walked, whistling, towards his big brown truck. Confused, she found enough clarity to shut the front door then turned and continued to stare at the box. Along the side, in bold letters, were the words that told her what the box contained, but she couldn't quite believe it. It was addressed to her father, who hated artificial trees, so there had to be some sort of mistake.

Sighing, she pulled out her phone and checked the time. Just after eleven, which meant he would be leaving the bakery in about an hour. Thursdays were half-days for some reason she had never understood. She wouldn't bother him at work. She would wait until he got home and start questioning him. There had to be a logical explanation. He'd bought it as a gift for someone? He was going to put it up outside? He'd bought it for the bakery – No, that couldn't be it, there was already a tree up at the bakery. She and Kris had decorated the previous day, Kris going so far as to make paper Santa hats to go on the photos on the walls.

She gave her head a shake and pushed the box out of the walkway. Maybe he had bought it because when they'd gone to buy a real tree he hadn't liked any of the ones available. She had thought the plan was that they'd go out to the tree farm outside Fairview and pick one out there. Pushing the boxed tree out of her mind, she went upstairs to get laundry. She was distracted by her laptop, which sat on her old desk mocking her for not opening it but once since she'd gotten to Bells Creek. With a sigh, she picked it up and sat on the bed, ignoring the urge to go to Facebook and take a peek at life in Halifax.

It wasn't as though anyone from there had done more than send her two or three texts in the first couple weeks to see how she was. She had hoped someone would think of her if they heard of a job opening that fit her skills, but either there were none or no one had thought of her. Going to sites with job listings, she began clicking through page after page and grew more and more disheartened. The jobs that were available required more experience than she had, or more education that she'd attained. And all would require her to move to Halifax, Richmond, Charlottesville, D.C., Atlanta, New York…

Did she want to move?

Before she could ponder that question, her phone began to ring. She pulled it out and smiled at the sight of Nick's name.

She wasn't sure she wanted to move.

"Hey," she greeted after accepting the call. "Working hard?"

"Not anymore," he quipped with a chuckle. "I just put in the last strip of baseboard in the master bedroom."

"Really?" The news cheered her. This meant the house was officially finished in time for Matt and Shayna and the kids to move down for Christmas. She knew it would be a wonderful surprise for them, because Nick had said he'd told them it wouldn't be ready until right before New Year's.

"Yep. It's done." He gave a tired, relieved sigh. "I gotta clean and finish getting the decorations up, but it's done. I'll do that today hopefully then surprise them tomorrow when they come down."

"That's great, Nick," she enthused, closing the laptop and shoving it aside. She didn't want to relocate.

"I was thinking…"

"Oh?" she asked when his voice faded and she heard him clear his throat. "You didn't hurt yourself did you?"

"Ha-ha," he muttered.

"What were you thinking?"

"We should celebrate."

"Celebrate what? You finishing the house?"

"Yeah. Maybe dinner? I could cook for you."

"Sunnyside up eggs and toast?" she asked with a grin.

"I can cook more than that," he said. "Nothing fancy."

"I don't like fancy."

"Then I'm definitely your guy." His grin was evident in his voice.

Her guy. She liked that. "Dinner sounds great. What time?"

"You can come over whenever. I'm kinda hoping you'll take pity on me and help me with the decorating."

Natalie laughed. "So dinner's payment."

"And celebration."

"I'll be there in a few hours. Dad will be home in a little bit so I'm gonna make sure he eats a proper lunch and I have a couple chores to do." The laundry mainly. She wasn't sure yet how two people went through so many clothes and towels. Pushing herself off the bed, she went to grab the hamper. "I'll text you when I'm on the way."

After a few more minutes of chatting, during which he hinted that he'd like her to stay for more than dinner, she ended the call and tossed her phone onto her bed. Her steps were light as she went downstairs to start a load of laundry, and she had turned on the old stereo and put on a CD of her favorite Christmas crooners when her father got home. Bouncing into the foyer, she grinned when he shook his bright red knit cap at her in time to the music.

"For I've grown a little leaner, grown a little colder, grown a little sadder, grown a little older," he sang with a nod. "And I need a little angel sitting on my shoulder. Need a little Christmas now…"

She remembered a time when the instrumental break meant he would grab her hands and lead her in a dance. She thought of the appointment made for three days before Christmas, when they would schedule his surgery and run all the necessary preoperative tests. Had she known how to properly pray, she would have prayed that he would be able to dance with her next Christmas. "Hey," she said, moving forward to kiss his cold cheek. "This box came for you."

"Doggone it," he sighed, looking down at the box. "I was hoping it wouldn't come until this afternoon."

"Is it for your second family?" she teased.

"No, I got to thinking…" He took off his coat and hung it up, then reached for his cane. "I don't have it in me to keep up with a real tree this year. Watering and trimming and then dragging it out."

"I would—"

"And, well," he went on, tapping the box with the tip of his cane. "I went to see Tommy the other day and he has one just like this. It's real pretty when it's plugged in and decorated. So I ordered it."

"A fake tree is never coming into my house," she stated. "I'd as soon throw Granny Wilma's old ornaments into the fire than I would have a piece of plastic that doesn't even look like a tree."

"Ah," he grunted with a shrug. "Always got my own words to throw back at me."

"Can we put it up today?"

"You can, I'll sit on the couch and direct."

"I knew you'd say that," she muttered, beginning to push the box into the living room.

Chuckling, he carried the folder he was holding into the living room and set it on the small table next to his chair. "While you get started I'll go heat up some lunch."

"Wait, no, Dad, I'll—"

"I feel good today, sugar."

"Okay," she relented.

She had to move the console table in front of the front window where the tree always went. She had just pushed it into the dining room to deal with later when she heard the microwave beeping. Knowing her father lingered over his lunch if he didn't have to go immediately back to work, she took her time finding places for the knickknacks that had been on the table. The potted plant she carried to the foyer, planning to carry it up to her room later. She put the framed photos of her grandparents on the bookshelf, and carried the small silver-framed picture of her mother to set it on the table next to her father's chair. Reaching into his pencil cup to find the box cutter he kept there, she groaned as several pens spilled to the floor. When she bent to retrieve them her arm brushed the folder, sending it and its contents to the carpet as well.

She shoved the pens back into the cup then gathered the scattered papers. About to push them into the folder, she paused when she saw the letterhead of a lawyer in Halifax. That made no sense. Her father's attorney was based in Fairview. Her eyes dipped and scanned the opening paragraph of the letter.

As per your vocal agreement with my client, Matthew Jackson, during our conference call on November 22, I have had the enclosed contract drawn up. Please peruse at your leisure, and feel free to contact me with any questions. I encourage you to confer with your counsel, Mr. G. E. Jefferson before our meeting to sign, notarize, and transfer the first payment on December 18. I ask that you please note the following points:

Matthew Jackson. Matt. Before she could stop herself, she turned to the next page, heart leaping to her throat at the bolded words that leapt out at her. Her father's name, then Matt's, then Gibbs' Bakery. Struggling to understand, she sat back on her heels and read the page slowly, hand slipping over her mouth to cover her shock as it sank in what she was reading.

Matt was buying the bakery. Not outright, if she understood the wording correctly. Her father was transferring everything into Matt's name after a down payment, then monthly payments of a base amount, a small percentage of sales being added for the first fiscal year. After which time the percentage would be terminated, and the monthly payments would continue until the agreed-upon price was paid in full.

The papers slipped from her hand and she didn't pick them up. Her father was selling the bakery. The bakery, which had been in his family for three generations. The place he had once said he wouldn't close until the day he drew his last breath. She supposed that statement had been true, as it wasn't technically closing. But why hadn't he told her? Why hadn't anyone mentioned it?

"Natalie, sugar, is there anymore of that pie from last night?"

He sounded so normal. As though he weren't effectively ripping her heart in two. As though he hadn't outright lied to her, because hadn't he shrugged off her questions about what business Matt was buying? He hadn't said a word about thinking of selling, and she knew that was partly her fault for not keeping those lines of deep communication open. It hurt, though. It hurt as bad as, if not a little worse, than him keeping how damaged his knee was from her. She had at least known his knee was bad, had known he needed surgery. But to keep this from her completely? To pretend nothing was going on? Why?

Snatching up the papers, she lurched to her feet and went into the kitchen. Her father was at the island counter, dishing up a slice of the pie they'd had for dessert the night before. He glanced up when she sucked in a breath. His brow furrowed, his smile faded, and when he saw what she was holding the pie slice fell to the counter.

"What's this?" she gasped, slapping the papers down across from him.

He looked at them, then up at her. "Sugar—"

"You're selling the bakery."

"I have to."

"Why?" Natalie blinked hard to keep the sting of tears at bay. "Because of your surgery? Because you'll be out for a couple months? I'm here now, remember? I'm not—"

"You're looking for another job. You'll find one. Maybe not right yet, but you will. And you'll get it, because you're brilliant and people like you. And then you'll be gone." He lowered his head. "Again."

"Dad…"

"I'm not doing it because of the surgery. I know it could stay afloat with me having to take weeks off for recovery. I didn't plan on you coming home, but I had talked to Sammy and Kris and they were willing to work longer hours to keep things going until I could get back. And now you're here, and you're doing great. But—" He sighed. "There's no guarantee the surgery will go well."

"Dad, they do millions of joint replacements a year."

"Yeah, but not on my joints. Accidents happen. Doctors make mistakes. Old hearts give out. It's a fact, Natalie."

"Don't talk like that," she pleaded. She couldn't take it. Not right now.

"I'm not being depressing. I'm being honest with myself. Yes, it could go great and next year at this time I'll be dancing on air. But it could go bad. And I'd have to close up the shop."

She opened her mouth to point out that she was with him, that she was helping, that she could obviously do the work needed to keep the bakery running. Then she remembered that she hadn't been at home when those fears and worries had festered in his mind. She hadn't been around when he had made the decision to sell. And he was right. She was looking for another job. And even though she was disheartened, she knew she would eventually find something. She might even leave again, if she had to.

"When you were born, I only wanted one thing for you," he said, haphazardly scraping the dropped pie onto the plate. "I wanted you to be happy. Yes, I wanted to raise you into a baker like me, like my parents were, and my grandparents, and my great-grandparents back in Italy. I knew you would be our only child, and looked forward to the day I could hand the keys to you. But you didn't want that."

"Oh, Dad, I'm—"

"Don't apologize for not wanting what I wanted for you. It was my dream, not yours. You had your own. I knew you didn't want the bakery, and I knew I didn't want to close it down. I hemmed and hawed for months. I couldn't tell Ashley I was thinking of putting it up for sale, because she would have broadcast it over town before I could walk out her office."

Natalie choked on a laugh. Ashley was wonderful, and her truest, best friend, but she did have a bit of a tendency to blab.

"Then one day this young family comes in. It was a slow day, and they were nice, and we got to talking. Matt's always wanted to own a bakery. He and his wife both have always wanted to live in a small town. He knows about running a business, he's got a good head on his shoulders, and he's damned good at baking."

"Is he?"

Leonard picked up a dishtowel and wiped the counter clean. "Him and Shayna came the next weekend and he showed me some of his recipes. After I closed for the day we went to the kitchen and…" His smile was almost one of pride. "He's better than I was at his age. Then they found the Harris place was for sale, and when he showed up to talk to me about getting a job right when I was thinking of calling Ashley to talk to her about selling, I figured it was fate."

"But why didn't you tell me?"

"At first I didn't think you'd care."

"Are you crazy? Of course I'd care."

His eyes steeled. "The day before you moved out to go to Halifax, you said—"

"I know what I said," she whispered. It had been almost ten years but the memory was fresh. Her telling him she'd gotten a part-time job at a magazine, and that she was leaving the next day to get an apartment and have her college transcripts transferred so she could finish her degree in Halifax. Her father asking who he was going to get to replace her at the bakery. And her answer, bitter and cold.

I don't give a damn about the bakery.

"I give a damn now," she said in a small voice. Too little, too late, she knew, but it was true. She did care. She had even then, but she'd been too wired up on the chance to grab her dreams that the words had spilled without censor. Maybe she hadn't cared as much as she did now.

"I have to do it, Natalie." He kept wiping the counter, and she remembered him repetitively kneading the dough he'd been working when she'd announced her sudden move. And the thudding clang when he'd thrown the overworked dough into the trash.

"Who else knows?"

"Tommy. The lawyers. The bank. And a few folks down at the county office, because I went last week to put his name on the license."

"Does Nick?" she asked.

"Of course, he's Matt's brother." Her father stopped wiping. "I thought he would tell you if I didn't."

"He didn't." She wondered why. And, suddenly, she needed to know. Spinning on her heel, she left the kitchen, ignoring her father's voice when he asked where she was going. She went straight for the front door, snatching a coat from the rack and pulling it on while shoving her feet into her boots.

"Natalie."

"I have to go out for a few minutes."

"Don't be mad at him."

"I'm just going to talk to him."

"He's a good man, sweetie. He probably didn't want to get mixed up."

"He should have thought of that before sleeping with me," she snapped, jamming a hat on her head.

"Natalie—"

"I'll be back later. We'll put up the tree." Not that she felt like decorating. Or celebrating. Flinging open the door, she stepped outside and closed it firmly behind her. Fueled by indignation, she ignored the brilliantly colored Christmas flags snapping in the breeze and the vivid red ribbons adorning lampposts and wreaths as she walked up the street. She passed the bakery and felt her heart break all over again. Matt would change everything, she thought, stopping to look at the shopfront. The battered old counter that her great-grandparents had built and installed themselves, where each member of the family had carved their name with a pocket knife. The photos and knickknacks that had been added to over the years, showing how it had changed with each generation. Blinking back tears, she turned and proceeded to the yellow Victorian on Halifax Street.

She barely heard Penny's bark of greeting as she marched up the walk. Stopping short when she saw Nick standing on the porch railing, she watched him stretch out one arm, then caught the multicolored glow of a strand of lights. Something bumped into her leg and she looked down, finally noticing Penny. She gave the dog a distracted head rub, watching as Nick stepped off the railing.

"Hey," he greeted, looking and sounding surprised when he saw her. "What do you think?"

"Looks great," she said flatly, resuming her march up the walk. She saw lights wrapped around the step railings, and saw the sunlight glint off lights in the shrubbery in front of the porch.

"Come on in," he said, opening the door. Penny, panting, darted from her to the door then back again, tail wagging manically, as though Natalie needed an escort. Nick waited until she'd stepped inside before entering, closing the door gently. "Did you forget to text? Not that I'm complaining, but—"

"What business is your brother buying?" she asked, eyes on the stacks of clear bins in the front hall. Each were labeled neatly, and she could see inside to what were countless decorations. Decorations she had agreed to help him put up and arrange. Through the living room doorway she could see a large tree set up in front of the window, and on the couch was covered with boxes of ornaments.

"Oh." Nick's joviality faded.

She turned to face him, anger surging again. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Natalie, let me explain."

"Okay. Explain."

"I knew it was a secret, okay? Matt told me that Lenny didn't want everyone in town knowing. Because there would be a million questions that he didn't want to have to answer every time someone came into the shop."

"I'm his daughter," she reminded him. "You could have told me."

"Exactly. You're his daughter. He should be the one to tell you."

"He didn't."

Nick's brow pinched. "Then how—"

"I saw some papers from a lawyer and…" She huffed. "Okay I knocked them down while getting something then saw what they were. Some contract they're apparently going to sign this Friday."

Nick nodded. "Yeah, Matt wants me to go with him."

"You should have told me, Nick. God, you listened to me go on and on about how I was getting the hang of the bakery stuff. You even let me talk about placing an order for supplies. Supplies!" She groaned, cupping her hands over her head. "Supplies that your brother probably doesn't want or need—"

"Natalie—"

"You knew I was doing everything I could to help Dad! You didn't think to tell me that I didn't have to worry? That by the end of the year it wouldn't be my problem?"

"I thought about telling you. But it wasn't any of my business. It's a deal between Matt and Lenny, I'm not involved."

"Okay, but you're involved with me. That makes it your business," she pointed out. "God, did you have a laugh over how I was staying up late studying paperwork to know what I needed to do while Dad was recovering from surgery?"

"I would never laugh about something like that," he said, frowning. "If anything it's made me admire you more. Because you told me you used to not care about the bakery. That you were so glad to be gone from it when you got your chance to leave. But I've seen how happy helping Lenny makes you. And how happy it makes him. I know not telling you has been eating at him—"

"Yeah, he's been real torn up," she snorted. "I've been such a fucking idiot."

"You haven't," Nick insisted. He stepped toward her.

"I have. I've been losing sleep and getting headaches trying to take a crash course so I could keep the bakery going for him. I've got so many notes on what gets done when…" Jamming her hands into the pocket of her coat, she felt slips of paper and pulled them out. The notes she had made the evening before, on times and temperatures, and how many folds she had done on the croissants. Crumpling them into tiny balls, she dropped them to the floor. "And for what? Nothing. Because in a couple weeks it'll be Matt's job to do it. He'll do everything differently so he won't need my notes. He'll change everything from the name to the prices to how the inside is decorated—"

"He's not changing anything."

"Yeah, right." Snorting again, she stepped away when he reached for her arm.

"Natalie," he sighed. "He doesn't want to change a thing because he loves how it is now. All he wants to do that's different is put a picture of himself on the wall and add a few of his own creations to the menu."

"First it'll be a picture and a few of his things, then it'll be changing the décor and fazing out all the things my Dad created."

"Honey, please—"

"Don't call me that," she gasped. "You and Matt just breeze into town and take everything, don't you?"

"What?" He made a gurgling sound that sounded like a swallowed laugh. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"The bakery. This house. The dog," she said, though Penny had hurried out when she'd begun her ranting. "Me."

"We didn't – Natalie, you're upset."

"Of course I'm upset! Wouldn't you be?" Staring up at him when he didn't answer immediately, she shook her head. "I'm beyond upset. I'm pissed off. Mostly at you!"

"Why me?" he asked gently.

She wanted to scream because he was being too calm. Did the man never get mad? "God, Nick, I opened up to you! I told you things I've never told anyone. And then I slept with you. Right there!" She flung one arm out to gesture at the living room. "And never once during any of that did it occur to you to tell me what was going on behind my back?"

"It wasn't my business to. I knew it would upset you, and I knew it would strain the relationship between you and Lenny. I couldn't do that to you, not when I've seen how hard you've both been working to rebuild it."

"We were building something too," she whispered.

"Were?" he repeated.

"Yeah. Were." She sucked in a breath, fighting the urge to cry.

"Natalie, don't—"

"Not anymore."

"Please, no, let's talk about this," he said, frowning when she shook her head.

"I gotta go," she gasped. She was going to cry. Her throat was closing up and her nose was burning.

"Can we talk later?"

She turned her head, not wanting to see the sadness in his eyes. And she didn't want him to see her cry. Again. "No," she said dully. "I've said everything there is to say."

"But—"

"Goodbye," she managed, pushing past his arm when he reached for her. Opening the door, she flinched when she heard the clicking of Penny's claws on the floor behind her. She pulled the door shut, heart squeezing at the sound of a little whine. She almost turned back, almost reached to open the door and say that yes, she did want to talk about it. Instead, she crossed the porch and went down the steps, keeping her eyes in front of her. When she reached the sidewalk she quickened her steps. She didn't know where she was going, exactly. She wasn't ready to go back home and see or talk to her father. And she couldn't go back to Nick. Tears escaped and she angrily brushed them away, following the sidewalk to the corner. She heard bells ringing, and a car that drove by had a festive bow on its antenna.

She continued walking, head ducked, ignoring the few people that greeted her. When she reached the tiny building down the next block from the bakery, a block from where Main Street turned back into Route 1110, her steps slowed. She saw the familiar Land Rover parked out front and before she could think of a reason not to she pushed open the glass door and walked past the receptionist, who barely looked up from her magazine, and through the open door of the office at the back.

Ashley's face registered several emotions in succession. Surprise, happiness, shock, worry. "Natalie? Babe, what's wrong?"

Natalie opened her mouth but couldn't figure out which words to say first. Her friend frowned, tossing her phone onto the desk and standing. Then she was walking around to where Natalie stood. Reaching to close the door. And when her arms wrapped around her in a loving embrace Natalie let her tears fall.

#aew fanfiction #nick jackson fanfiction #my fics #multipart: RPC #12daysofchristmas #late omg #but better late than pregnant???

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jayankles · 4 years

Text

The Cat’s Out of the Bag

Pairing: Dean x Reader (Platonic), Eventual Sam x Reader

Word Count: 1361

Warning: partying, mentions of sex

Written for: @spndeanbingo, @spngenrebingo, @goodthingshappenbingo, @spnonewordbingo, @spnfluffbingo, @samwinchesterbingo @spnquotebingo

Squares Filled: Roommates AU, College AU, Big Sweaters, Brother, Roommates Brother, Standford!Sam, free space (“close your mouth, sweetie, you’ll catch flies.”)

Sighing, you took a look around the state of your apartment, or a pig sty you referred to in this moment. You almost whined at how much work you were going to have to do today. When it came to parties, you and your roommate always seemed to forget about the aftermath of the greatness that came the night before.

After smacking your head on the wall a few times, you snapped out of your stupor and headed back to your room, this was definitely a moment for your cleaning playlist. Unfortunately, you still hadn’t made one yet so you would have to stick to shuffle for now. As much as you wanted to leave this place as it was, you knew you couldn’t. It would absolutely drive you crazy,you would much rather get the cleaning over and done with, you could clean this shit hole before anyone even thought about coming over.

Pressing the play button, you started with your bed, stripping off the sheets and throwing them into the laundry basket. One job down, another 20 or so to go. You picked up all the red cups,throwing them into the trash bag, as many as you could carry. Scattered everywhere was popcorn kernels, candy wrappers, and - you almost puked when you saw it but a condom wrapper; not pleasant at all.

That was your bedroom cleaned, finished in a record time of six and a half songs. You couldn’t wait to find out what joys and pleasures awaited you on the other side of that door. You were not disappointed when you found Dean sprawled out on the floor, drinks spilt, more chaos than what was in your room. It was time to put in some earbuds and have the music blasting in your ears. It was better than to wake Dean and have him in one of his moods, you knew better than to wake him when he had a night like last night.

Weaving your way around Dean, you cleaned up as much as you could. More cups, more trash, even squashed and crushed food, it was just more of everything, you started to feel sorry for all the cleaners and janitors at the school. When you finally finished, you sighed in relief, it was the last time in a long time that the two of you held a party in your dorm. Thankfully, you didn’t find any other people in your apartment.

After taking a shower, you put on a pair of leggings, your most comfortable pair, a tank top then went in search for the piece of clothing that you desired the most. His huge sweater, the one with the enormous hood, the one that drowns you every time you wear it. You knew exactly where to find it; in the clean laundry basket hidden away in the back of your closet to hide from the guests, hopefully no one rummaged around in there and took anything. You would have to kill someone if anyone messed with that hoodie. Yes! Right where you left it the night before. Immediately, you pulled it over your head and let it fall, the hem of it grazing the top of your knees.

“Morning, sleepy head.” You said as you walked out of your room, seeing Dean up and rapidly blinking before he rubbed the sleep from them. “Don’t worry, there is a coffee coming and when you get the stench of alcohol off of you we can go to that cafe, you know, the one with that waitress you like.”

“Awesome.” He murmured coarsely, loaded with sleep still. Taking the coffee from you, he nodded his thanks. “Give me twenty minutes and we’ll leave. Nice sweater, by the way.”

“Shut up and get a move on, I’m ready for something extremely greasy. Especially after the stunt you pulled last night.” Of course, he hadn’t really done anything other than continuously drink and pass out but it was fun to watch him writhe, trying to figure out what he had done.

“Thank you, Donna.” You smiled at the waitress, Dean practically gawking at her as she took your order and walked away to give it to the chef. “You know, you should just ask her out.”

“I couldn’t do that. I wouldn’t want to leave you, that’s just not fair to you, Y/L/N.”

You feigned a loving smile but you knew exactly what was happening. “Oh dear, is the great Dean Winchester scared?”

He scoffed, pulling an ‘as if’ face, Dean leaned back in his seat, he knew you were right, he had to distract you, get the subject off of his and onto you. His eyes lit up, he had the perfect distraction. “Why don’t you ask out your own crush, huh?”

“You’re here, aren’t you?” You winked at him. “Besides, it’s just a comfy jumper. I’d wear one of yours but you’re selfish.”

It was then that Donna placed your order down, your favourite condiments on the side. You ate happily, doing a little dance as you shoveled in your food, an overloaded fork at a time. You discussed the party last night, leaving a few parts out mostly because you couldn’t remember but really they just didn’t feel like important details .

You loved these moments with Dean, even though you lived together, you barely had anytime to just relax and spend your time enjoying his company. But it was too short lived as you completely gobbled up every piece of your food, definitely worth every penny.

Pulling your wallet out of your purse, you called over Donna so you could pay the bill and leave a tip. “Oh yeah forgot to tell you that your brother is hot shit. I’d definitely fuck him… is that what you were looking for?”

You saw him cringe, it was the reaction you were looking for but it cost you revealing to your roommate that you liked his brother a little too much.

“A, that’s fucking disgusting and two, you’re welcome.” His disgusted face changed into a smirk as he sat forward, crossing his arms in front of him on the table after he had pinched a blueberry from his plate and popped it into his mouth.

“What are you talking about, ‘you’re welcome.’” You mimicked him in a ridiculous deeper voice. But you saw him pointing over your shoulder. Shit. You knew that look and you hated it, especially when you were on the wrong end of it. He had fucked you over this time and you had no idea why, what or who until you spun around on your heels, finding Sam fucking Winchester with a soft smile on his face.

“Well that was a nice hello. You, wearing my sweatshirt and confessing that you think I'm hot amongst other things.” He shyly looked you up and down before taking his bottom lips in between his teeth.

“Yes ma’am.” Dean answered sulkily, he grabbed his jacket and headed out with his brother.

A few moments after the Winchester brothers did, you exited the cafe, failing to hide your smile. “When you get a call or text from the hot waitress… you’re welcome.”

You took a moment to breathe and decided it was now or never. Strutting up to Sam, you grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him to your height, your lips colliding in a bruising kiss. You felt him smile against your lips and soon after, he kissed you with a little more force. A moment later, you heard Dean cough behind you. You figured it was time to break apart.

“I missed you.” You whispered, just loud enough for Sam to hear. Your hands trail from his neck to his hips, holding him close. Sam pressed his forehead to yours, his huge hands cupping your cheeks.

“Missed you too, it’s been too long.”

When you turned around to see Dean with a gobsmacked look on his face. “Close your mouth, sweetie, you’ll catch flies.” You smirked when your hand closed his mouth for him. “I’m gonna smash your brother, you need to find somewhere to be other than the apartment, bye.”

Feedback is gold and very much appreciated

Forevers: @super100012 @lupine-princess @plaid-lover-bay25 @atc74 @growningupgeek @sophiebobzz @docharleythegeekqueen @poukothenerd @grace-for-sale @mrswhozeewhatsis @jesspfly @supernaturallymarvellous @sammysgirl1997 @roxyspearing @mogaruke @be-amaziing @deanandsamsbitch @frankiea1998 @hennessy0274-blog @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @iwantthedean @capsheadquaters @emoryhemsworth @notmoose45 @essie1876 @cassieraider @brewsthespirit-blog @its-my-perky-nipples @riversong-sam @jotink78 @captainradicalpassion @jadalecki-jackles @spnbaby-67 @holyfuckloueh @gh0stgurl @alyssa6marie @esoltis280 @bumber-car-s @alexwinchester23 @x-waywardaf-x @thisismysecrethappyplace @randomparanoid @kellianz

Dean: @kenmen02 @ain-t-bovvered @deans-baby-momma @ericaprice2008 @shamelesslydean @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @wingedcatninja @mayasmedberg @kurosaki224-new-blog @valerieshubin @milo-winchester-4ever @sandlee44 @ruprecht0420 @akshi8278 @smoothdogsgirl @dslocum89 @plaidstiel-wormstache @ria132love @welldonebeca @iamabeautifulperson18 @starry-chaos @deans-treasure @larajadeschmidt13 @misticty @nyxveracity @dean-winchesters-bacon @adoptdontshoppets

#spndeanbingo #spngenrebingo #goodthingshappenbingo #spnonewordbingo #spnfluffbingo #samwinchesterbingo #spnquotebingo #sam x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader #platonic!dean x reader #dean x reader platonic #sam x reader fluff #sam x reader implied smut #jayankles #jayankles writes #bailey writes

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thecassadilla · 4 years

Text

Perfection

Pairing: Kristanna

Word Count: 2,175/AO3

Summary: After months of anticipation and preparation, Anna and Kristoff welcome their baby.

Author’s Note: Hi everyone!! This is my contribution for Kristanna Week Day 6 - Purple! This fic is a loose follow up to my day 2 fic, Thankful, and my day 3 fic, Preparations. It can also be read as a stand-alone. Enjoy!!!

Also, I just wanted to say thank you to everyone who read my fics this week! I’m so thankful for all of the support I received and I really enjoyed reading/looking at what everyone else contributed!

There were two things that became evident early on in their relationship and carried over through the years; the first, was that one of Anna’s favorite colors was purple. She liked all colors, really, but purple was special to her and many of her clothes consisted of purple fabric in various shades, ranging from lilac to violet. And of course, Kristoff was happy to oblige when she requested purple elements in their bedroom - specifically, a plum comforter set and matching valances.

The second was that she had a minor online shopping addiction. It shouldn’t have been surprising to him when a package arrived at their house in her name despite the fact that he didn’t know what the contents of the package were. She was nearing the end of her pregnancy and it was getting more and more difficult for her to get around, so her habit picked up as she ordered baby and postpartum supplies. She spent most of her days lounging on the couch with her swollen feet and ankles elevated on the ottoman in front of her, and her wedding ring hanging from a delicate, silver chain around her neck, as her fingers had swelled up as well.

“Anna, you got a package,” Kristoff said, as he entered the living room.

“Ooh, gimme!” she exclaimed, extending her arms and flexing and extending her fingers a few times.

He handed her the box and she eagerly began tearing at the tape. “What’d you order?”

“You’ll see,” she answered in a sing-song voice.

He sat down next to her and watched as she jutted her tongue out, struggling to rip open the box. “You want some help?”

“I’ve got it.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle at her stubbornness. She finally managed to pull out the contents of the box, ripped the plastic off the first garment, and held it up for him to see; it was a light purple robe. “That’s pretty.”

“It’s for after the baby is born,” she explained. “So I can be comfortable in the hospital but still look put together when we take pictures and people stop by to visit. It’ll be good for nursing, too, because it crosses over in the front.”

“Good idea.”

“And then, I got matching swaddles and hats for the baby. Grey if it’s a boy, and white with purple flowers if it’s a girl.” She held up the plastic packages so he could get a look at them. “I’m debating only bringing the grey one, though, because I’m sure it’s a boy.”

“You won’t be sure until the baby’s out.”

“I know, but I have the strongest gut feeling that it’s a boy. I can’t explain it, it’s like there’s a voice in my head screaming ‘boy!’”

“A couple of months ago you were sure it was a girl,” he reminded her. “You should bring both.”

“I will,” she agreed. “Do you have a gut feeling?”

“Not really. I flip-flop everyday. Today I’ve been imagining a girl, but the past few days I’ve been thinking that it’s a boy.”

“I suppose we’ll find out soon enough,” she remarked. She tore the plastic off of the last two packages before handing one of the blankets to him. “Here, feel how soft it is.”

He rubbed it between his hands. “That’s really soft, what type of material is it?”

“I can’t remember.” She took her feet off the ottoman and scooted to the edge of the couch, preparing to push herself up.

“Woah, what are you doing?”

“I have to wash all of this stuff so it’s ready for when we go to the hospital.”

“I’m more than capable of doing a load of laundry. Give ‘em to me.”

She narrowed her eyes, but obliged, handing him the blankets and her robe before crossing her arms over her chest and pouting as she leaned back into the cushions. “I’m pregnant, not incapacitated.”

“You’re extremely pregnant and swollen. You’re supposed to be keeping your legs elevated.”

“I’ll never go into labor if you won’t let me move around.”

“We already went for our walk today,” he reminded her. “Doctors’ orders were to elevate your feet, drink more water, and avoid being outdoors for long periods of time now that it’s hot out.”

“You know, I love that you’re really attentive and that you care so much, but sometimes I wish you were a teeny bit less attentive so I could get away with more.”

He chuckled. “You’ve gotten away with plenty. Besides, you only have four weeks left, maybe less.”

“Or more. God, what am I gonna do if this kid decides not to come out?”

“The good news is that the baby has to come out, sooner or later.”

“My doctor won’t induce me until I’m a week past due and I don’t know if I can last that long. This baby has got to be so squished in here.”

“I’m sure the baby is nice and comfy. Just a little bit longer.”

“But I’m already so big,” she moaned, throwing her head back. “If I get past forty weeks, you’ll have to stick a ‘wide load’ sticker on my a*s and take me to the hospital in a forklift.”

“You always did have a flair for the dramatics,” he smirked. “I know that you feel uncomfortable, but you look great and a forklift is completely unnecessary.”

“I’m ready to be done being pregnant.”

“Soon,” he promised. “You’re in the home stretch.”

“Tell him to come out,” she begged. “He listens to you.”

“Baby will come out when baby is ready to come out. There’s nothing that I can say or do that will change that.”

“Well, there is one thing you can do…”

He smiled knowingly and stood up. “I think that’s my cue to go start this load of laundry.”

“You got me into it, and you can get me out of it!” she called after him, and when he ignored her, she blathered on. “Oh, come on, you can’t just leave me hanging like that! You know as well as I do that the baby isn’t going to come out until he’s ready regardless of what we do.”

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“It’s a girl!” the doctor yelled before placing the tiny, screaming newborn on Anna’s chest.

“Oh my god, it’s a girl,” she breathed, tears cascading down her cheeks. She shakily touched the baby for the first time as the nurses worked on cleaning her off, and squeezed Kristoff’s hand with her free hand as she murmured, “She’s so beautiful.”

“You did amazing, honey,” he said, leaning down to press a kiss to her sweaty forehead. “She’s perfect.”

“And she’s so tiny,” she blubbered. “I’m already so in love with her.”

Just a little while later, they had settled into the peace and quiet of the recovery room. They hadn’t had any guests yet, and were spending quality time as a family of three.

“I’m so glad I brought the floral swaddle,” Anna commented, staring down at the perfect, little baby in her arms. The newborn was looking up at her through squinted, dark blue eyes. “I was so convinced she was a boy.”

“She needs a name,” Kristoff remarked.

“I know, but it has to be perfect,” she said, running her fingers over the baby’s wispy, blonde hair.

“Did you have something in mind?”

“I made a list of names on my phone a while back, but I don’t know if any of them will suit her.”

“Let me see,” he said, and she handed him her phone. He found the list relatively easily, and began reading off names to her. “How about Violet?”

She shook her head. “No, she’s not a Violet.”

“Emma?”

“No, it sounds too much like my sister’s name.”

The process continued as he made his way through the list, until a name close to the bottom caught his eye. “Here’s one that I really like - Grace.”

“Grace,” she echoed, with a small nod. “I think that’s her name.”

“You think?” he chuckled.

“You have to look at her and see if she’s a Grace.” She shifted in the bed and held her out for him.

He took the baby in his arms and smiled down at her; in his opinion, she was the spitting image of Anna, minus the hair color and freckles. “She’s a Grace.”

“Really?”

“Definitely.”

“And we can call her Gracie,” Anna said, pushing her lower lip out into a pout. “I love it.”

“Me too. Do you want her back now?”

“I’ve been hogging her this entire time and you’ve been so patient, it’s your turn now.”

“Okay,” he agreed with a small smile. He’d had the opportunity to hold her earlier in the day and he’d taken it, but he didn’t want to deprive Anna of any time with her. He sat down in the chair next to the bed and admired their perfect baby.

“I can’t believe she was so tiny and I was so huge,” she laughed. “Only seven pounds and two ounces.”

“You were all baby, though. She had nowhere to go but outwards, I guess.”

“I told you she was squished in there. She must be so happy that she can stretch out now.”

“You must be happy that she came early, huh? Only a week early, but still.”

“Happy is not the right word - thrilled is more like it. I was worried that she wouldn’t be born until the second week of June. I don’t know if I would’ve survived an extra week or two.”

“You’re very strong,” he commended her. “Stronger than you think. If you had to endure another two weeks, you would’ve.”

“You’re right, but I would’ve complained a lot,” she giggled.

“That’s okay, I can’t imagine that growing a human is comfortable.”

“It was so worth it, though. We got the world’s most beautiful baby out of it.”

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A few days later, when they were settled in at home, the doorbell rang. Kristoff had gone to answer it, while Anna glanced down at the infant in her arms, breathing a sigh of relief when she saw that she was still content. It’d been a rough couple of days for all of them; Anna and Kristoff were both equally lacking sleep, with dark circles appearing under their eyes, and she was desperate for a shower, certain she smelled like spit-up. None of that mattered, though, because the baby was happy and of course, adorable as ever in a purple cotton jumpsuit.

“Who was that?” Anna asked when Kristoff appeared in the living room.

“It was just a delivery,” he assured her.

“Oh, I thought it was Elsa. She’s supposed to be on her way,” she said before furrowing her eyebrows. “Did I order something and forget about it? Is the mommy brain already getting to me?”

“No, it was something I ordered.”

“Oh, okay.” She shifted Grace from the crook of her arm and rested the baby’s face against the burp cloth on the uppermost part of her chest, by her shoulder, and gently patted her back.

“Don’t you want to know what it is?”

“Sure.”

He produced a small purple box tied with a white ribbon and handed it to her. “Good, because it’s for you.”

She could feel the tears forming in her eyes at the sight of it. “You got me a present?”

He nodded. “Mmhmm.”

She placed her opposite hand on Grace’s back, and jiggled the ribbon with her free hand to get it undone. When it finally came away from the box, she popped the top off and inside was a rectangular, silver pendant with Grace’s name engraved on it, in addition to a tiny emerald, her birthstone. “This is so beautiful.”

“It’s a push present,” he explained.

“Isn’t the baby enough of a present?”

“Yeah, well, you had to carry her around inside of you for nine months and then push her out, so I think you deserve a little something extra. And now that your ring fits on your finger again, you can put it on your necklace.”

“You’re the sweetest,” she sniffled. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know, but I wanted to.”

“Please come closer so I can kiss you.” He obliged, scooting down a few inches and pressing a soft, warm kiss to her lips. “Thank you for my present, Kristoff. And thank you for the adorable baby.”

“I can’t take the credit on that one,” he laughed. “You did all of the hard work.”

“All of the hard work was worth it to have her here, and I’d do it again in a heartbeat.” She re-positioned the newborn, once again cradling her in her arms. “Would you mind unclasping my necklace and putting the pendant on? I’d love to wear it now.”

“Of course,” he said, and she leaned forward slightly, careful not to disturb the baby. He unclasped the necklace, slid the pendant on, and then draped it back over her neck. “There.”

She placed her free hand over the smooth metal. “It’s perfect.”

#kristannaweek2020 #kristanna week 2020 #kristanna #anna #kristoff bjorgman #frozen #frozen fic #my writing

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loptrcoptr · 3 years

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The Basic Bitch’s Guide to Doing Laundry in Shared Spaces

I’ve had some weird times at laundromats over the years. I haven’t had to pay for laundry in a year and I had this kind of visceral, gut-clenching reaction while cleaning the filter today when I realized that, if I get my way and my life is back to normal in a year, I’ll be back to pulling pube-hairballs out of laundromat dryers soon. Too many times random male strangers have approached me and asked me to tell them how to do their laundry. Too many times I have returned to take my load out of the dryer only to find that someone else removed my stuff, still wet, before the cycle was done and put their load in instead.

So, since clearly most people’s families don’t teach them the basics of laundry etiquette, here are the general Do’s and Don’ts of laundromat/apartment complex basement/residence hall laundry behavior.

1. ALWAYS check the lint filter in the dryer before running it. (It’s usually located in the front or top of the machine, accessible after you open the door). Lint buildup is a serious fire hazard, it’s just a giant pile of fuzzy tinder waiting to go up in flames if it overheats, there’s a spark, etc. Ew, you say, I don’t want to touch other people’s hair and clothing fluff and pet fur, disgusting! Yeah, it is, which is why you should always remove your own lint after you are finished using the dryer. so:

2. ALWAYS remove your lint from the filter after you dry a load of laundry. If it skeeves you out to touch your lint, or someone else’s leftover lint, use a paper towel/dryer sheet/the eraser end of a pencil/a stick you found outside to scrape the lint out of the filter and into the trash. Ta da, now the building is less likely to catch fire with you in it, and you have saved the person after you the trouble of lint cleaning.

3. this should go without saying but: throw the lint in the trash/bin. Don’t shove it down a drain, don’t leave it on the nearest counter. Don’t be a nasty gremlin.

4. If the machine says “don’t use x” then don’t use x, man. Most machines can handle detergent in powder, liquid, or little cubey-dealy forms, but some old things can’t so just read the instructions and don’t break the damn thing, because your landlord will probably make you pay for it. If you’re at a laundromat or in a residence hall and you find out your detergent doesn’t work with your machine, check with your front desk to see if they have some extra you can use. If you’re in your apartment building and it has no front desk, ask a neighbor or anyone who is also doing laundry if they can spare a little detergent.

5. If you forgot your detergent/can’t get the right kind from somebody, run a cycle without it. There is usually enough leftover soap in communal washing machines to get your clothes decently clean in a pinch without you having to add any more of your own.

6. A little goes a long way. Basically, again, just read the instructions on your detergent and on the machine. Once, an elderly man asked me how much soap he should put in. He was using powder detergent, which I don’t use, so I told him to just use however much the box advised. He said “I’m going to use half the box” and I said “that’s gonna be way too much”, but he insisted he knew what he was doing. Folks, twenty minutes later there were so many suds in his machine that it broke down from the pressure. Just a wall of white, you couldn’t even see bubbles or clothes anymore. If you don’t want to pay for repairs, remember that less is more.

7. Don’t touch other people’s stuff. If you were in a library, and someone got up and went to use the bathroom and left their stuff on a desk, would you go and move all their shit to another desk and then claim the desk for yourself? Of course you wouldn’t. So don’t move people’s laundry. If someone’s cart is in your way or something, say, “hey, would you mind scooting this back?”

8. Maybe the most important rule: NEVER remove people’s clothes from a machine. Doesn’t matter if they’re wet or dry, wait your turn. So someone’s cycle is over but they haven’t appeared to get their stuff yet and it’s been ten minutes, and you’re in a hurry. Bummer (don’t do laundry in a hurry, give yourself a solid three hours’ buffer). Doesn’t give you the right to touch their belongings. But I even know whose stuff it is, I can put it back in their laundry basket, you say. No, dude. Don’t touch strangers underpants. Duh. Would you like it if you come back a few minutes late from running to grab a coffee around the corner and you find a pile of your soaking wet clothes sitting on a counter? no, you wouldn’t, so don’t be a shady fuck, ok?

Did your parents not teach you how to do laundry? Has your wife been doing it for years? Here’s the basic rundown:

WASH

1. take a look at the machine, see where the slot is for the kind of detergent you will be using. Check the detergent for advice on how much to use for how big a load/what kind of materials. Also fabric softener and detergent are not interchangeable, fabric softener isn’t soap. Think of detergent like shampoo and fabric softener like conditioner.

2. Wash darks/colors with darks/colors, and whites with whites. Your favorite red buffalo check flannel might bleed onto your white underwear if you wash them together. Your jeans will absolutely bleed all the fuck over white shit, sometimes even after years of washing.

3. make sure each item can, in fact, be machine washed and check what kind of cycle the garment recommends. Some clothes can only be hand washed or dry cleaned. Some clothes benefit form being washed cold, no heat. Bras and underwear, and anything else you’re worried about should be washed on a ‘delicate’ setting.

4. don’t fuck with bleach, it’s not worth it. Bleach is not to be messed with until you’re super comfortable with doing your laundry. Bleach is only for white stuff, and you can still ruin white things with bleach. If you are determined to try and bleach a white garment, please wash it by itself so you don’t hurt any other clothes and, crucially, make sure the washer your using can actually use bleach, otherwise you could break it.

5. once your load is in and you know what temperature/cycle to use, hit the corresponding button/turn the knob to the setting you know you want. The machine will generally flash a time at you (30-50 min, usually, depending on what you’re getting done). Wait until your time is up, and voila, washing done.

DRY

1. if you do not have access to a dryer or a clothesline, there are nifty clothes hangers that look kind of like a baby’s mobile that you can hang outside your window or on a balcony. Barring that, hang your clothes on coat hangers and hang them around your tub or shower, or even your sink, to drip dry. Once they are barely damp I like to lay them out on towels or hang them on door handles in a room with a fan or radiator inside.

2. make sure you use the right setting on the dryer. the dryer is a fickle little bitch and she will ruin your stuff without a moment’s hesitation. After you clean the filter (you can do it, it’s not as gross as it seems [if lint affects some manner of phobia of yours, or if sensory stimulation of that variety is difficult for you, ask someone else to do it or use one of the aforementioned long objects to scrape it out]) check the labels on your clothes to make sure they can all go in one cycle together. Colors don’t matter in the dryer, but fabric type does. High heat for items high in polyester or spandex– like leggings, sports bras, some shirts, and most jeans– is bad. Heat will shrink lots of things, so make sure your clothes don’t say “low heat”, or “ no heat”, or anything about not putting them in a dryer at all. Absolutely never put a sweater or other knit wear in the dryer, that shit will come out looking like a doll’s sweater afterwards. I have lost many items to shrinkage over the years and as such am a coward and dry my stuff on low or no heat, which usually takes twice as long, but then I’m less likely to find a hole burnt into a shirt or a pair of pants that I can’t pull up past my thighs anymore. Fragile items like blouses, mesh stuff, lacey stuff, should generally be allowed to drip dry to avoid any issues, and I know a lot of folks who put their “unmentionables” in dryer-safe bags to keep them from getting tangled up or otherwise ruined, but I am lazy and don’t have any nice lingerie so I chuck that shit in on low heat with everything else.

3. Wait until the cycle is done (beep or flash, usually) and let the barrel slow its roll to a manageable speed before opening the door, or you will get clothes flung in your face. Old machines might be a little hot on the inside, be warned, and remember to take your lint out of the filter before you leave (!!).

That’s it! Nothing to it. :) Go out into the world and do your laundry without fear and with good manners, friends.

#sorry for some reason my brain said WE"RE GONNA BTICH ABOUT LAUNDRY TODAY so here I am #laundry #/rant

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n-ctarinenga · 4 years

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Rose Coloured Boy [ luke hemmings ]

surfer!luke au | pt.2 [ read first ]| word count: 4,914 | masterlist

From the moment you opened your eyes, you knew something about the day was off.

It had been a couple days since you spent the night at Luke’s, Calum’s ‘special friend’ having not returned after your little message through his bedroom door.

You felt bad, but Calum assured you that everything was okay, her just being a bit embarrassed about the previous evenings. You did your best to believe him, but also made a mental note to be extra nice to her when Calum brought her to Michael’s dinner.

The lingering feeling that you had done something mean was definitely one of the things bothering you, but for the life of you, you couldn’t figure out why your mood was so up and down, nothing else obviously annoying you or giving you reason to think the day was gonna be bad.

That is, until you rolled out of bed and the bullshittery began.

It started with smaller things, not being able to find your favorite lipstick, misplacing your keys on the coffee table in the living room instead of on their usual hook beside the door, Calum having took the last of your jello cups before leaving for work himself, annoying things, but still, small annoying things.

Jumping out of the shower, you braid your hair over your shoulder to keep it out of the way, pulling your underwear, jeans and work shirt on before applying a small amount of make up to make you feel like you’d put in at least some effort for the day.

The second you walk out of the door with your bag over your shoulder, you feel like you should turn around and walk back inside again. The freak heatwave that showed up the day before doing nothing to make you happier as it felt like you instantly started sweating when you stepped out of your air conditioned apartment.

Plugging your headphones into your phone, forgetting to charge your airpods the night before, your usual casual steps today looked like an assault on the earth, your grumbling obvious to anyone who had crossed your path on the walk to work.

You expected the cool air of the cafe to make you feel better, but as you walked in and saw Ali behind the counter, you knew something was wrong.

Frowning as you walk behind the counter, you gently place a hand on her forearm as she rests on a stool beside the till.

“Everything okay hun?” You ask quietly, knowing her long enough to know that the sunny smile she shot to the customers wasn’t as full as you knew it to be.

“Not entirely.” She confesses, keeping an eye on a couple women in the corner to make sure they weren’t listening in, “this morning I got a call from my mom. Things aren't doing well with my brother and his ex wife, and it looks like the drama is finally on our doorstep." She spits bitterly.

You'd been well aware of the situation Ali was talking about, having been her confidant for the last few months as the strenuous process of divorce meant her older brother was now living at home with their mom again, bringing his troubles with him.

Sighing, you hug Ali and rest your head on her shoulder, letting her know you’re there for her. “You just say the word and I'll call Mali or Kaykay in to come help. I know how important your family is to you.” You tell her as you pull back.

This makes her smile, and you offer her a friendly grin as you pat her back before walking out the back to put your bag down. As you place your keys into your bag and hang it on the wall, you take a deep breath. What was bothering you obviously wasn’t serious if you couldn’t even figure out what it was, and at least you didn’t have to deal with the situation Ali did.

That is, until her brother's ex wife walked through the door before the lunch time rush. A few people were already trickling in, and as you saw her pass the shop window, you shot a look at Ali, nodding your head towards out the back in your silent way of telling her you’d deal with it this time.

You were nice to all the customers, for Mali's sake, but you couldn't find it in you to be nice to the woman in front of you after hearing all the pain she'd caused your friend's family.

You take her order and put it on the board while you finish up making a coffee for the customer before her, and call out their order and name as you place the coffee down on the bar beside the counter.

Turning around to make her coffee, you hear someone calling for your attention as you put the next lot of coffee in to brew.

Seeing her standing there as you turn around, you frown as she holds the cup you just placed down.

"I ordered a latte with two sugars. This coffee is black." She says with disgust in her voice, and you fight the urge to cross your arms in front of you.

"That's because it isn't your coffee, it's that gentleman's." You signal to the man standing off to the side, a regular who was obviously annoyed.

"I didn't order black coffee and you gave me black coffee." She protests, to what you don't have a clue.

"I haven't made your order yet, and that drink isn't yours, it's his. You weren't meant to get that one." You explain more slowly, hoping to get through to her.

She rolls her eyes, pushing the cup over to your side of the bar. "Just make it again and get it right this time."

You grit your teeth, your annoyance turning quickly towards being pissed off, and do your best to bite your tongue as you turn around, remaking the man's coffee instead of hers first, handing it to him with an apology, which he accepts with a sympathetic smile.

You make her drink as quick as possible, quality not at the front of your mind as you throw the lid on and put it on the coffee bar, calling her order and name out like any other order and praying she finally leaves the cafe.

As she does, Ali returns from out the back, thanking you and running the till while you get busy making the coffees for all the backed up lunch orders you now had.

It's only around an hour before closing time that Ali gets a call from her mother, letting her know she needs to come home as soon as possible.

Seeing the worry on her face, you push back your own frustrations of the day and tell her you'll close early, you still owing her for closing on her own a couple days prior.

She gives you a big hug before she leaves, which helps your mood slightly as you remind yourself you only have a few customers to handle before you could go home.

You manage to survive the last hour before spinning over the sign on the door, breathing a sigh of relief as you do. You take some extra time to clean up, sweeping up and wiping down the counters ready for the clean up and baking crews that would be in during the early hours to make all the food for the day.

Your body ached and protested against the heat as you slid the roller door down in front of the glass front of the cafe, your back straining slightly as you bend down to lock it closed.

The walk home sees you stomping most of the way back, but not with as much gusto as your walk in this morning. You could feel the fatigue of the day clinging onto every fiber of your being, the heat only amplifying your discomfort.

Breathing a sigh of relief as you walk into your apartment, closing the door behind you, you smile slightly as you see Calum in the kitchen, a set of tongs in his hand as the smell of honey and soy marinated chicken wafted over to you.

"You're a sight for sore eyes." You groan happily as you make your way over to the kitchen, dropping your bag on the way and wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

You feel him laugh as you hug him, him patting your arm with his free hand as he turns what you now see as chicken kebabs in a frypan.

"Rough day huh?" He asks. You just nod, letting go of him and leaning against the counter.

"Go have a shower and relax a bit. These are still gonna take a while." He instructs, and you just throw out a salute to him as you walk towards the hallway, picking your bag up on the way and dropping it inside your bedroom door instead.

You take a quick shower, annoyed to find you'd run out of shampoo, but happy to wash the sweat and grime of the day off your skin, wrapping a towel around yourself before making the short trip across the hallway from the bathroom to your bedroom.

Taking note of the clothes sitting on the end of your bed, you realise Calum must have washed and dried the load of clothes you'd had sitting on your desk chair, and you thank your lucky stars for Calum Thomas Hood.

You grab some underwear out of your dresser and pull it on, going through the pile and pulling out a pair of biker shorts you'd brought to be trendy, but ended up just wearing around the house, and frowned as your search for a shirt stalled as a bright yellow design on black fabric caught your eye.

Pulling it out of the pile, you realize with slight horror that Calum had scooped up the shirt you were still yet to return to Luke as he grabbed the clothes from your chair.

After waking up in his arms the morning after you stayed with him, your head was in too much of a spin to realise you were shoving his t-shirt into your bag as you got dressed for work, ending up bringing it with you to the cafe before finally realising where it was when you got home. Secretly, you had been wearing it to bed the last two nights as well, the smell of salt water and Luke's cologne helping you drift to sleep better than any white noise machine ever did.

Pulling the shirt up to your face, tears spring to your eyes as you only smell laundry powder on the fabric, the calming smell that helped instantly ease you washed away.

Truly feeling the meaning of "the straw that broke the camel's back", you feel every ounce of frustration and annoyance hit you at once, a choked sob coming out of your mouth as you let yourself sink to the floor, leaning your back up against your bed as the tears of frustration overwhelm you.

You're not sure how long you sit there, but obviously it's long enough because sooner or later, Calum knocks on your door, opening it slowly when you don't respond.

"Y/n….. Y/n/n dinner is ready." He calls, before stepping inside your room and seeing you sitting on the floor.

The sight in front of him is heartbreaking to him, knowing you for so long and knowing how much it took for you to get to this point. His eyebrows knitted in concern, he crouches down beside you, placing a supportive hand on your shoulder.

"Really, really rough day?" He asks, repeating his question from before. You do your best to answer him, but with your throat raw from the sobs that wracked your body, you settle for a nod instead.

Calum sighs, not really knowing what to do. It was rare you ever got to this state, so he didn’t have much experience when it came to knowing how to cheer you up or pull you out of your feelings.

You dry your tears with the sleeve of a shirt you pull from your bed, not really caring about the tear stains soaking into the fabric as Calum puts a supportive hand on your knee.

“I’m sorry you’re feeling like this. Do you wanna talk about it? Come out and have dinner?” He asks, and you shrug lightly.

“I’m sorry, I just wanna go to bed.” You say, quietly and tiredly. “Can you put my dinner in the fridge for me please?” You ask.

Calum nods, patting your knee before standing up again.

“You call me if you need anything, okay?” He asks, and you nod. He walks out, quietly shutting the door behind him and leaving you alone again to work through what you needed to.

Taking a deep breath, you pull yourself up, throwing back your blankets and crawling into the cocoon of your bed. You can already feel the tears soaking your pillow as you stare at the wall, matching glow in the dark stars covering it much like the ones you helped Luke put up in his bedroom.

Unknown to you, Calum hadn't moved from outside your door, worry weighing on his shoulders for easily one of his bestest friends.

He wracked his brain trying to think of what he could do. He needed help to help you.

Taking his phone out of his pocket as he walks down the hallway back to the kitchen, Calum scrolls through his contact list, trying to figure out who to call.

His mom? She'd have good advice, but you were a private person who probably wouldn't want your roommates mom knowing all your issues. Mali? Another good option, but also your boss.

Calum scrolled through his phone with a frown until his eyes caught the name of the perfect person for the situation.

Hitting call, it only takes two rings before Luke picks up his phone.

"Gday, how's it going?" Luke answers, and Calum lets out a sigh of relief.

"Uh, not good mate. Do you have a minute?"

"Yeah, of course. What's wrong?" Luke asks, worry evidently growing in his voice.

Calum quickly glances down the hall to make sure your door is still shut, lowing his tone so he's sure you couldn't hear him.

"I went into y/n's room a minute ago to tell her dinner was ready, but when I walked in she was crying her eyes out. I know she had a rough day and I asked her if she wanted to talk, but she isn't even coming out of her room for dinner." He explains.

On the other end of the line, Luke feels his heart drop, worry washing over him as the image Calum described made his chest ache.

Before even thinking about it, Luke is getting off his couch, grabbing his hoodie, wallet and keys before walking out the door.

"I'm on my way over. Thanks for calling me mate." Luke assures Calum, still on the phone with him as he locks his door behind him.

Calum sighs in relief, both men saying their goodbyes before hanging up.

As instructed, Calum puts your food away in the fridge, settling down in the living room for his own dinner with his girlfriend on facetime, feeling a lot better knowing Luke was on his way.

While you and Calum were close, Calum knew that there was something on a completely different level between you and Luke. Beyond the mutual feelings you were both oblivious to, there was also an unspoken connection you two shared that people around you could pick out from a mile away, Luke and yourself joking more than once that you were actually soul mates.

Sometimes, it was hard not to believe.

Luke is convinced he hasn't skated so fast in his life as he stands outside your apartment door, breath coming in short bursts as he texts Calum to let him in.

Inside, Calum sees the text notification at the top of his screen, excusing himself from his girlfriend and his food to jog to the door, opening it with a smile and pulling Luke into a quick hug before pulling back.

"She's still in her room." Calum lets him know, giving him a pat on the back.

Luke nods his thanks, gently walking down the hallway before stopping outside your door.

Taking a deep breath, he knocks once, three times, then twice.

You frown as you hear the all too familiar knocking pattern on your door, dragging your hands under your eyes to wipe away your tears as you roll over, facing the door that slowly opens to reveal the man that makes your heart burst.

"Luke?" You question, your voice worn from emotion as you sit up slightly, resting on your elbows.

No matter how much Luke tried to mentally prepare himself, it felt like he could never ready his heart to see your tear stained cheeks and frowning face meet his.

Before Luke could even say hello, a disappointed look crosses your face as you will your voice not to break.

"You should go hang out with Calum." You say, laying down again and pulling your blanket up to your chin as you roll over again.

You assume Luke has done as he's told as you head your bedroom door shut, but you're proven wrong when you hear his wallet and keys kit your desk, the bed dipping behind you as you feel him sit down.

"You know I'm not gonna leave you alone while you're like this." Luke states, quietly but affirmatively.

You wish you could respond to him, fight for your point, anything, but the energy to do so escapes you completely.

Looking down at you as you stare at the wall again, he tries to think of the best thing to do to help you. He knew you weren't much of an emotionally verbal person, so asking if you wanted to talk probably wouldn't get him an answer he would be satisfied with.

Glancing around, he stands up, and you feel the warmth of his body leave the space behind you. You hear him move around the room, walking from one side to the other, before the slide of vinyl against paper, soon followed by the opening notes of the 1975's first album, one of your all time favourites.

Your bed dips behind you again as Luke sits down, but this time you feel the covers lifting too. You feel an aching feeling in your chest as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you in closer to him as his head rests behind yours, the sensation of his breath light on your neck.

Still without the energy to speak, you instead move your arm from where it rested beside your head to lay it over the top of his, giving his hand a squeeze as you laid in his arms.

You lose track of time as the tears start to slow, drying on your face and pillowcase as you find yourself sinking into Luke, his steady breathing helping you level out your own.

After a while, you feel like your body has awoken again, suddenly regaining feeling of your fingers, your toes. You know you look a sight, but slowly you roll over in his arms, burying your face in his chest as you wrap your arms around him.

"Thank you." You say quietly, barely loud enough for him to hear.

With your head against his chest, Luke knows you can hear his heartbeat race faster, happy to hear you finally speak again, and the feeling of having you curled into him.

Luke would happily spend the rest of his life in this position with you, but instead he leans forward, one hand on the side of your face as he presses a kiss to the top of your head before pulling back, using his hand to hold your face to look at him.

"Do you think you could handle having something to eat?" He asks, hand still trailing patterns onto your back.

You think for a moment before nodding, feeling the absence of food as you're reminded of its existence.

Luke kisses your head again before sliding out of your bed, slowly pulling you upright with him. It takes a moment for you to feel comfortable on your feet again, holding onto Luke's hand for stability.

Noticing you were wearing his shirt, Luke smiles to himself as you squeeze his hand, sniffling slightly.

"You go wash your face, make yourself feel better, and I'll heat up your dinner, okay?" He instructs, and you nod as you wipe your face with the back of your hand.

Splitting up, you walk across the hall to your bathroom as Luke heads into the kitchen, noticing Calum must have gone to bed a while ago.

While you wet a washcloth to dab at your face, you try not to look at the state of your reflection, knowing it would probably only make you feel worse. As you take a deep breath, you can hear the microwave in the kitchen come to life, and you look to the ceiling as you thank whatever higher power gifted someone like Luke into your life.

Your heart ached as you thought of the man in the next room, but you pushed the thoughts aside as to not start off a new wave of tears.

Tidying yourself up, you twist your hair into a braid to keep the most part of your hair out of your face, dabbing on a small amount of moisturizer to help out your reddened skin before you walk out of the bathroom.

The smell of the food hits you instantly, and your mouth waters as you walk down the hallway, steps quiet as you notice Calum's door shut and light off, his slight snore being able to be heard from the hall.

As you turn into the kitchen, you see Luke placing a single plate onto the table, loaded with white rice and chicken kebabs that Calum had put aside for you.

"Bon appetite." Luke smiles as he sees you walk in, pulling your seat out for you.

You feel yourself smile for the first time tonight, and sit down, letting him push you into the table, but frowning again as you notice you're about to eat alone.

"Grab you a plate, I can't eat all of this myself, and I know you're hungry too." You insist.

Luke hesitates for a moment, before walking over to a cabinet and pulling a plate out for himself. When he places it down beside you, you load a solid half of your food onto his plate.

Sitting down together, you eat in peaceful silence, thankful for Calum's cooking skill and the man sitting beside you.

You and Luke wash and dry the dishes together after your meal, and as he hangs the dish towel back on the front of the stove, you wrap your arms around him, resting your head on his back as you squeeze him tightly.

"Thank you. For everything."

Luke squeezes your hands that link in front of him before you let go, letting him turn around and lean on the counter as he faces you.

"How are you feeling?" He asks, and you think for a moment before speaking.

"Better. A lot better. Not so tired, not so hungry, not so sad. Today just… was shitty times a thousand til you showed up." You laugh lightly. "How about you?"

Luke smiles as he raises his eyebrow slightly. "Good, not tired, not hungry, very happy to help." He replies.

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Luke's board beside your own at the front door, and you tilt your head slightly before looking back to him.

"Did you skate over here?" You ask, and he smiles again as he looks down to the floor with a nod.

You feel a sense of pride at this news, feeling good that he was finally comfortable enough to travel distance on his board.

"Hey," he says, head popping up to look at you as an idea strikes him, "do you wanna go for a skate? Get some fresh air?" He asks.

You feel a large and genuine smile cover your face at his question, and nod furiously, a wave of joy washing over you at just the thought.

You grab your shoes from the rack beside the door and plant yourself down beside it, tying your laces while Luke does the same, lightly knocking you with his knee on his way down, making you laugh.

Doing up your laces, you sit back for a moment as you wait for Luke to finish doing his, and in that moment, you feel everything around you start to slow.

You feel your heart beating harder than it did before, as you focus on the man beside you, the small grin lingering on his face, loose curls falling over his forehead, how close his body sits next to yours.

The nights previous events flash through your mind, remembering how he knew exactly the way to comfort you without even knowing what was going on, how your bodies fit perfectly together as you laid in your bed, sitting beside him at dinner and stealing a glance at him any chance you could get, how he kissed your head and made you feel calm, protected, loved.

You loved him. You truly, deeply loved him.

"Luke?" You say quietly, just enough to get his attention and before you can catch yourself as you start to hear your racing heart in your own ears.

Hearing you say his name, his head pops up, his eyes looking straight into yours. You feel like all the air has left the room, as your impromptu decision makes your hands start to shake.

Sitting with his knee touching yours, your shoulders close together, your eyes flick down to his lips for barely a moment, before you carefully place your hand on the side of his face, gently holding it as you lean towards him, and connect your lips to his.

Time stops altogether for you as you feel the shock of the situation stun Luke, before his hands make their way to your face, holding you like the most delicate thing on earth as he kisses you back, a breath he's been holding for years finally leaving his lungs.

White hot heat runs through your skin everywhere you feel his touch, and as you pull back only the slightest distance to allow you both a breath, you can't help but think you could easily spend the rest of your life drowning in him.

Your hand falling to the side of his neck, you lean your forehead against his as your eyes flicker open, his blue eyes reminding you of the ocean he so adored, but as they looked back at you, they held more adoration than you had ever seen him feel towards the sea.

"Hi." He says quietly, pressing a shorter, but none less intense kiss to your lips.

Smiling into it, you pull back just enough to let out a small laugh.

"Hey." You smile back, reattaching your lips and letting your hand tangle in the hair falling over the back of his neck while one of his moved to your waist to pull you closer.

"Fucking finally!!"

You nearly headbutt Luke as the loud voice behind you scares you out of your skin, your instant reaction to spin around and fall back into his chest as you see Calum standing in the hallway with a huge grin on his face.

"Jesus, Calum!" You yell, your heart pounding out of your chest for a different reason now.

Luke lays his head on your shoulder, and you can feel him laughing behind you as his arms wrap around you, holding you as you start to calm down.

"Sorry, sorry, ruined the moment, leaving now." Calum says, hands flying up in self defense as he steps into the kitchen.

Covering your face with your hands, you let out a deep sigh as you hear the fridge open and close before you drop your hands and see Calum walking back out, heading towards his room and walking backward as he holds a caprisun and his thumbs up in your direction.

"Love you guys, I was never here, support you fully!" He calls, slowly closing his door before shutting it completely.

Looking over your shoulder, you see Luke sighing before meeting your gaze.

"I think that went well." He says, a playful smile on his facing making you both burst into laughter.

You shake your head as you climb to your feet, offering your hand to Luke, which he accepts, pulling himself up.

As you dust yourself off, he grabs your boards, handing yours to you before opening the door.

You nod your thanks to him as you grab your lanyard from the hook beside the door, pulling it shut and locking it behind you.

"Hey y/n?" Luke asks, catching your attention.

Turning around, he catches your face, a grin on his own as he gently pulls you closer.

As your lips meet his, you feel a chill run up your spine, your hands coming up to ball into the side of his hoodie.

God, you should have done this years ago.

taglist: @spicycal @softbabiestan @irwinkitten @mrandleer @smalla-than-a-bugg @candidcal @lukeskisses

#luke hemmings #luke hemmings fanfic #luke hemmings blurb #luke hemmings imagine #5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer fanfic #5 seconds of summer blurb #5 seconds of summer imagine #5sos #5sos fanfic

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alovevigilante · 3 years

Text

....on trying to think of ways to create the process of getting laundry done without actually having to physically do it, and also feeling good... and writing about how to achieve feeling good, thereby creating and experiencing a great life. (Side note: Dave Chappelle yells out the word “bitches” a lot. Maybe not in this instance, but he has in the past. So I’d like you to read this gif as if Dave Chappelle was saying it. And that loving and fun “Dave Chappelle” energy is my intention though out this piece below. Clarity, is everything. 😉 Thank you, the management)

I really want to wear this certain shirt today, but it’s either buried or isn’t, in amongst 3 loads of clean laundry that I proceeded to fold, not put away, and unfold after rifling through it looking for other clothes to wear on other days. It now needs to be refolded, and put away in its proper places. Sometimes when I put laundry away, I shove it into the drawer over other clothes I have also rifled through at other times in my haste, leaving the drawer hard to navigate, cause it now consists of folded clothes shoved on top of other clothes, over unfolded, craziness. I can’t even open the drawers, they’re so chalk full of disorganized chaos. But I haven’t even gotten that far yet. I’m still at the point, where I’m laying on the bed, thinking about the shirt I was hoping to wear today, that I’m also hoping would somehow magically float into my hands from somewhere, but I dunno from where yet, because too much effort. All of me, is upended.

When you don’t keep up with your organization, it becomes harder to find your way, or, in this case, your shirt. So, what do you do, when you are wanting something that you don’t have yet, but you know it’s going to take some effort to get it? Yes. Good question. Now, let’s go back. Did my thoughts make it harder, or easier to believe that I can find my shirt in a timely manner? Ok... 3 loads of mish mosh laundry, not even sure if it’s in there... more implied mess... overstuffed, unorganized drawers, always a pleasure to recall... you feel that? Some would call it, resistance. And it is. I like to call it something way more “nail on the head”. I call it, “I don’t want to frickin do it so I think about how hard and annoying it’s gonna be to achieve it and no, don’t want to, so there, I’ll lay on my bed” syndrome. Let’s choose to call it “resistance” for short.

What some call, “the path of least resistance” is the way to more easily navigate through life, and is only accessible, truly, with your thoughts, and belief that it will be easier for you to choose, easier. So let’s do that. Ok, using my 10 days of endless laundry sitting in baskets in my room as an example, how can I get what I want, and take the “thoughts of least resistance” instead of the action. Cause let’s face it, the thoughts I was thinking, are only going to keep me not only from achieving anything, but it will also keep me stuck to this bed.

So, let’s start with how I feel about this shirt I want to find. Let’s entertain the feeling of that for a bit. This shirt, is fantastic! Why you don’t ask? I’ll tell you! It’s soft, and flowy. It’s really comfortable, and the best part is, I can get away with not wearing a bra in it! Or not, I guess it depends on the beholder. But, it’s a great choice on a Sunday morning where all I have is one errand, so i think I’ll wear it. Great! Good news. We have completed a few sentences of thought, thinking about the good feelings of the shirt. It even has a cool saying on the front, as most of my tees tend to sport. Yes. I like it. Ok. Don’t think sports cause you don’t know about sports... ok. Well, I backslid a bit. Sports, sometimes make me feel, not included with about the 82% of the world population that loves them. Crap.... ok, that’s ok. I’m aware of that. I made a conscious choice, to choose a next better thought (energy) to experience from the last one. Here it is, ready? Who gives a rip! Great! Well, wait a minute... I clearly do, if I mentioned it. Ok, oh no. I’ve gone from one thought (energy) to another about how I’m feeling inadequate. Rats! Ok, rats remind me of the Pixar movie, ratatouille. Cute. I like that. I like both Pixar, and that movie. Ok, getting better. Now, I have one of 2 ways I can go with this. I can bemoan the fact that I too, am a story teller (in my case, most of the time, a story yeller) and I’m out of work and I have no connections to cool people who write stories cause I don’t have a background in animation, OR, I can think about how the rat cooks awesome food for a human who’s trying to better himself, and put trust, in a rat. Crap! That’s not a great thought to have. It’s also, not a real scenario. Let’s choose better.

Let’s try, SHIFTING energies completely. Sometimes when you’re trying to think about what you don’t desire, it doesn’t help you. Because you can’t switch topics and expect a different result. You can, however, switch energies. How to we do that? Ok. Also a great question. Now we’re really getting somewhere, because that question, had the energy of wanting better for ourselves, and that feels better. Yes! Ok! We’re on a roll now! Yes, rolling on in... with the good energy! Evita, is my all time favorite musical. They have a song, called, “rolling on in” or not, cause I’m not good at knowing lyrics, or names of songs. Eh. I used to sing professionally, and now, I’m trying to find myself another completely different career. One that I’d appreciate more, and feel like I belonged in. Well, these thoughts, are ass, and just make me want to continue laying on the bed, cause although I love the people who love them and perform in them, I’m not generally a big fan, of the genre of musical theater. There. Now I feel worse, by that admission, and worse, then when I started discussing my shirt in my clean laundry pile.

My point, however long winded, is this: it’s never about the laundry. It’s about your resistant feelings. So, thinking your way out of things, won’t work unless you can hold a different, slightly better feeling for a certain amount of time. Let’s say, a few seconds. Again, how to we shift the energy deliberately, and stay with it long enough to create a new, slightly better energy we can maintain? Ok, let’s try this: think about the word, BLANK for 15 seconds. Go! I’ll time you...

Did you think about the word blank, and only the word blank? If you thought about other things, don’t worry. Try it again. I’ll wait. Think about the word “blank” without entertaining any other thoughts during that time. Ok? Go! Again, I’ll time it.

Did you think about how I was going to time it and tell you when to stop? Or did you think of the word blank for 15 seconds and time yourself? Either way is cool. One way, is “this Kari broad, is a serious nut ball”, and can make you laugh. Another way, you thought about blankness, for 15 seconds. Either way, you interrupted the momentum of your last energy, and created some new stuff to play with. That’s fun! Play! Yeah! How can I insert that into my daily life in this moment? I know! Just for now, I can stay in my pjs and not get dressed yet. Then, when I feel inspired to, like I’m kinda feeling now, I’ll turn on some tunes, and reorganize my mind a bit around the fact that it will feel so much better to have the laundry cleaned up once and for all til more eventually comes but I won’t think about that last part, shit!

Ok, no problem. Music is still fun. I like Aerosmith, Led Zeppelin, and Nazareth, and a whole bunch of other bands. Let’s just choose enjoy the music, and get this shit done cause my future me will be elated with the cleaned up situation. Yes, I will do that, for the future me. I will choose, better thoughts and actions for the future me. Cool.

And that’s how you take, happiness, into your own very deliberate hands. By choosing to feel better, and feeling, and choosing and subsequently doing whatever it takes, to get yourself there, minute by minute, day by day. The fact is, unless you’re a laundry fanatic, it’s not exactly what most of us want to spend our time doing. But we can deliberately choose to think our way into making the best out of any situation.

Dream on (Aerosmith), or ramble on (Led Zeppelin)? Does love hurt (Nazareth)? Or can it heal your feelings, by choosing it? Only you can decide for yourself. Recognizing and making a deliberate choice and effort to reorganize your thoughts before they get out of hand, like my laundry is, helps. 😉⚡️💕

P.S. I found my shirt! And yeah, it’s a lil wrinkled, but it’s Sunday! And I’m all about the message, and not so much the outside appearance... well... maybe a lil bit of both. And yes, I’m still in bed, cause it gives me more pleasure writing about my laundry, then actually doing it. 🙈🤷‍♀️😉💕☺️

#choose love #love matters #love manifestation #self reflection #self love #self esteem #selfworth #self care #self development #self improvement #energy report #energy work #a love vigilante

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maidenof-thesea · 4 years

Text

Snakes & Butterflies | Part VI

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Genre: Soulmate Au!, Fluff, Angst, Smut (Maybe, still debating)

Words: 2.9

Warning: minor swearing

Note: Part 6 is finally here!! I just finished last night, and I was debating in what direction I wanted to go with this story and I think I finally found a flow. Please let me know if you would like to be tagged so that you guys can be notified right away when I post. I would do a calendar but life is always hectic even when you try to stick to the schedule. Hope you enjoy and I hope you guys are having an amazing week so far. Lots of love <3

Reminder: * conversations in Korean *

The boys, minus Jungkook, who went out for a run, slept the day away while Rosa and I worked on cleaning the kitchen and living room. It was already well past noon, they must have been really jet lagged. In spite of that, Jin apparently had done a lot more than wash the dishes last night.

“Did you clean?” Rosa asked, her voice thick with confusion.

“No,” I said, shrugging. It wasn’t exactly a lie but I would have to talk to Jin later so that Rosa wouldn’t notice. “Um they should have some laundry if you want to get started on that?”

“No it won’t be enough for a full load,” She replied, rubbing her hair out of her face. “Should I help you set up for tonight?”

“No, that's okay,” I replied, handing her her jacket. “You can go home for today.”

“I feel like I didn’t do much..”

“That’s okay, Rosa,” I said smiling as I walked her to her car. “We have a whole two months to go.”

“Okay then,” she said as she got on to her car. “See you next time!”

I waved and as she pulled out, Jungkook was approaching the house in a slow jog. He waved at Rosa who waved back enthusiastically. She liked Jungkook a lot. And like my mother she referred to him as a bunny, much to his delight. I wait for him to come up to the porch and I hand him a water bottle from a pack we had stored near the front door since we were both too lazy to take it all the way into the house.

“Thanks Noona,” he said, opening the bottle and taking a chug of water. “So you know that cop that lives down the road?”

“Yea, Mr. Chang” I replied as I sat down on the patio chair. “Did you tell him about last night?”

“Yea,” he said as he sat next to me untying his shoes. “I figured since he’s also the head of the neighborhood watch, I should report it to him.”

“What did he say?” I asked already knowing the answer.

“The works,” Jungkook sighs. “‘We’ll keep an eye, but technically no laws were broken and we can’t prove they were stalking us blah blah,’”

“Don’t worry, Kookie,” I said pointing to the camera. “I won’t let any of those crazy beach girls touch you.”

“Noona,” Jungkook said with a slight blush but his tone was also stern. “This isn’t a joke, this is serious.”

“Kookie-”

“He’s right Y/N,” a voice said and as I turned around Taehyung was leaning against the front door. His hair was tied back into a man bun and his face looked freshly washed and dewy. I should ask for his skincare routine. “You could have a stalker.”

“Doubt it,” I said with a small smile. I spent my whole life hiding on the sidelines. I made sure to blend in so that no one noticed me. “I appreciate the concern but trust me no one would want to stalk me, I’m no one. Most likely it was not-”

“Why would you say that?” Taehyung interrupts with a hint of annoyance. “You’re precious to someone, you should value yourself more.”

“Hyung,” Jungkook interjected his tone pleading. “Let’s go eat some breakfast hmm?” He began to push Taehyung inside. He smiled sheepishly at me in apology and they both went in leaving me confused outside.

You’re precious to someone

No one has ever said that to me. It was another first. I didn’t know how it made me feel, but I couldn’t help the tears that began to burn in my eyes. I had been crying too much lately. Yuki then made her way outside almost as if she sensed my turmoil and she nudged her way into my lap.

“I guess you find me precious right baby?” I said smiling, wiping my tears. I began to pet her and she immediately purred and stretched her legs. “That’s already two times someone has called me out on my bull huh?”

“What bull?” Yoongi said joining me on the porch, making me jump in surprise. Yuki then hissed and ran off. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you or your cat.”

“That’s okay,” I said, accepting a cup of coffee that he handed me. “Thank you.”

He sat down and started to drink his coffee. I sat looking down at the coffee, letting it warm up my hands and I couldn’t help but feel a bit touched. From what I can remember Jungkook telling me about him, Yoongi seemed a little rough around the edges but he really was a softball, especially around Hoseok.

“Where’s Hoseok?” I asked, bringing the cup to my lips.

“In the shower,” He replied. “You can call him Hobi, he likes that better, Hoseok feels too serious to him.”

“Oh okay,” I replied and once again it was silent.

“What bull were you talking about?” He says with a hint of curiosity.

“Oh,” I said, rubbing the back of my head. “Nothing really, just something I’m working out.”

“Oh,” he replied, almost dejected, which made me feel a bit bad. “Well you can always talk to me you know?”

“Oh,” I said once more, feeling a bit touched again. “I didn’t expect you guys to be so caring towards me..”

“Well,” Yoongi said smiling and ruffling my hair. “Must be because you’re cute.”

“Stop,” I pouted and he only laughed and pinched my cheek. Heat spread onto my cheeks and I sat still. For some reason he reminded me of my father, but from what I could remember my father hardly showed any affection towards me. “Yoongi…can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” He said, re positioning himself so that he faced me fully. “What’s up?”

“Before Hos- I mean Hobi-and you met..” I said not meeting his eyes. “Was there ever a time that you may have thought you would never meet? Or did you guys meet each other when you were young?”

“We met when we were young,” Yoongi replied with a small smile. “I struggled a lot with coming to terms with the fact that my soulmate was a man as well, you see my parents weren’t the most supportive in the beginning..”

“Oh,” I said nodding in understanding. A part of me can sympathize with him in that aspect. “How-”

“Did I overcome that?” Yoongi finished for me. “Hobi. He was always patient and he was always there for me even when I wouldn’t accept it at first. It was hard for him too.”

So his Soulmate helped him value himself more.

“Why do you ask?” Yoongi questioned and when I glanced at him, I had his full attention. “Trouble in paradise?”

“Not really,” I replied with a shrug. “Just trying to figure out how to value and love myself more.”

“Self-love is important,” He said nodding. “Self value, however, is more behavioral than emotional. You can ask Joon since he’s more philosophical than me but I know that much..”

“Hyung,” A deep raspy voice said from the porch causing both me and Yoongi to jump in surprise. Jimin stood at the door with the sweater I was wearing last night on. He regarded us with unreadable eyes. “Hobi-hyung is looking for you.”

Yoongi then patted my clasped hands and smiled at me and got up to leave. Jimin stood there for a bit staring at the spot next to me. He took one step and I bolted right up. I grabbed Jungkook’s forgotten shoes and made my way inside, leaving Jimin to stand there alone. For some reason, I felt a sense of shame creep up on me, as if I was caught doing something I wasn’t supposed to be doing.

I placed Jungkook’s shoes in the shoe rack and made my way into the kitchen to wash my now empty cup. Once I was in the kitchen, Jin was already at the stove frying himself an egg and Jungkook and Taehyung were playing Xbox while Namjoon had AirPods on and was reading something on his phone. Yoongi and Hobi were nowhere to be seen, they must be upstairs.

“Oh,” Namjoon said, taking his AirPods off once he noticed me preparing to wash the dishes in the now full sink. “Hey so I had a question.”

“Shoot,” I said with a smile, rolling my sleeves up. From my peripheral I could see that Jimin had now entered the kitchen.

“So I remember that we choose the option of tourism when booking our stay here, so does that mean we can go to museums and whatnot?”

“Of course,” I said, opening the dishwasher to start placing clean dishes to dry. “What did you have in mind? I was gonna wait till breakfast was over to ask if you guys were up for any-.”

“Excuse me,” Jimin said as he reached for a cup from the cabinet. The cabinet that happened to be on top of the sink. The sink where I was currently washing dishes. My mind went haywire while my body went completely still. Jimin’s chest was only pressed against my back for only a couple of seconds but it felt like eternity. His breath ruffled the top of my hair, his cologne made my mind go fuzzy. And almost in an instant he was pulling away, already opening the fridge. However I didn’t recover as fast as the encounter lasted.

“I know Jin-hyung wants to take pictures at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art but I was wondering if the Crocker Art Museum is worth the drive…” Namjoon rambled on not really noticing my state.

“Yea,” I agreed with a slight shiver, turning off the faucet and drying off my hands. Once I turned around Jimin was appraising me with a slight smirk, and my breath got caught in my throat. “Nam-Namjoon, we could always go a different day, maybe plan an early drive-”

“Your car isn’t big enough though,” Namjoon said rubbing his head.

“Namjoon, remember we said we would rent a SUV?” Jin interjected and Namjoon’s eyes widened and he nodded. “I believe Hobi already called the place the airport recommended, we just have to go sign the papers and what not.”

“Oh that saves a lot of time,” I said, rubbing my arms and avoiding Jimin’s eyes, that have yet to leave me. “Do you need me to drive you there Namjoon?”

“Hyung, doesn’t drive yet,” Jimin said. “I could go-”

“Wait!” Taehyung said running into the kitchen. “If Jimin’s going I want to go!”

“Where are we going Noona?” Jungkook asked following Taehyung, who slammed a surprised Jimin into a hug.

“Um, I’m not going anywhere yet,” I said quickly walking past the sandwich that Jimin and Taehyung were starting to look like. Taehyung must have been a koala in the past life. “I’m gonna get ready, you can drive them there.”

Jungkook

“Okay!” I said, smirking at Jimin, who seemed a bit annoyed. “What’s the matter hyung?”

Instead of answering, Jimin took a quick glance at y/n who was now being hugged excitedly by Hobi-hyung. Both me and Taehyung rolled our eyes and started to drag him out and a little whine escaped from Jimin. Once Y/N was out of his sight, Jimin almost looked like he snapped out of a trance.

“You okay there hyung?” I asked once more while Taehyung ran ahead to Y/N’s Jeep, calling shotgun, almost as if he was giving Jimin space.

“Why do I still feel drawn to her?” Jimin whispered almost as if he could hardly believe it himself. “I could hardly sleep last night…”

“Well I’m sure the hyungs could help us understand more,” I said rubbing his arm. “Namjoon’s family has the archives that could maybe tell us more but we could only do that if you feel comfortable with us knowing.”

“That’s the only way I’m gonna get answers huh?” Jimin said entering the backseat of the car. When he glanced at Taehyung, he continued once he saw that he had headphones on. “Do you think with time, she’ll remember me more?”

“To be honest, hyung,” I said starting the Jeep. “I find it strange that she can’t remember as well, is that one of the affects of her reje-”

“Okay I got a playlist ready!” Taehyung cheered as he grabbed Y/N’s aux cord. “Let’s go!”

“Let’s go!” I said to Taehyung as I looked at Jimin in the rear view mirror, he seemed to be lost in thought.

Once we arrived at the car rental place, Jimin went in to pay for the rental, mostly because he spoke more English than Taehyung. Jin’s parents were basically the ones paying for everything, it helps that they own the most luxurious restaurant in Seoul. Too bad Jin wants to be a chef instead of managing the restaurant.

“That card has been there since you came to pick us up that day at the airport,” Taehyung muttered looking at the front window. He was right, there was a card. I hadn’t noticed it before. I reached as best as I could to grab it but before I could graze it with my fingers, Jimin grabbed it.

“Who is Lee Minho?” Jimin muttered with a furrow in his brow. I shrugged and so did Taehyung when Jimin looked at him. “That’s a Korean name…”

“Must be someone Noona knows,” Taehyung said, causing Jimin and I to raise our eyebrows. “What?”

“She’s only two months older than you,” Jimin said with an arched brow. “You don’t have to call her that.”

“Wait, you guys have the same birth month?!” Taehyung said in surprise. “And why can Jungkook call her Noona and not me?”

“Trust me,” Jimin sighed. “I don’t like that he does either.”

“She called Jin-hyung ‘Oppa’ yesterday,” Taehyung muttered, crossing his arms.

“She did what?!” Both me and Jimin yelled causing Taehyung to flinch. Me more in disgust while Jimin seemed angry.

“Him and his ‘Oppa’ fetish,” Jimin muttered in annoyance, as he walked towards the large black SUV that an employee drove out. “Then these jerks won’t let me be alone with her.”

“We can still hear you hyung,” I said and I laughed as he flipped me off.

I don’t remember him being this possessive before.

“He reminds me of Hobi,” Taehyung muttered. “They’re so scary, I mean Hobi-hyung has sort of chilled since he claimed Yoongi.”

“Claimed?” I said in confusion.

“Bro,” Taehyung said, rolling his eyes. “You really didn’t pay attention at all in homeschool huh?”

“But that doesn’t make sense,” I said, starting the car and pulling out once I saw Jimin hop into the SUV. “Jimin has already been rejected.”

“Maybe it’s different because Y/N is human,” Taehyung shrugged.

“YOU KNEW?!” I yelled and I almost let go of the brake, causing Jimin to honk at us from behind. “Hyung, how did-”

“Did you think we were born yesterday?” Taehyung said smacking me on the head, even though I was driving. Wait-

“‘WE’?!”

“Yes,” Taehyung said nonchalantly. “We’re just waiting for Jimin to open up to us.”

And for once Taehyung rendered me speechless. So all of them knew. Jimin is gonna lose his mind. The only one who doesn’t know is Y/N herself.

“You know what I don’t understand?” Taehyung said all of a sudden in a serious tone. “Humans don’t possess the ability to reject a Soulmate right? I mean have you ever heard of it before?”

“No I haven’t heard of them evolving that way.” I said, I am somewhat confused by it as well. “There’s been a lot of cases lately, where people’s Marks are being erased.”

“Really?” Taehyung said in surprise. “Huh I wonder…”

“Wouldn’t it be more likely that Neanderthals are rejecting their human Soulmates?” I asked. “I mean do you think Namjoon has heard of more cases from his father?”

“I mean, we can always figure that out later.” Taehyung said, shaking his head. “My concern is for Jimin and Y/N.”

“Right.” I agreed already seeing the cottage in sight.

“We know Jimin thinks Y/N rejected him..” Taehyung drawls.. “But that’s simply impossible, she doesn’t have the ability.”

“What are you saying hyung?”

“I’m saying that your Grandpa is a liar.” Taehyung said, clenching his fists. “I know Jimin, and I don’t think he had the heart to reject her but I can’t help but think-”

“No,” I said clenching the wheel. “Hyung loved her so much.”

“That’s the only thing that makes sense.” Taehyung said with a sigh. We both sat in the car as Jimin hopped off the SUV and started to pet Yuki, who seemed to only have warmed up to him. As he pulled up his sleeves, his broken Mark was like a crack on his skin. Like a reflection of his broken soul.

“We need to get her to remember.” I said with determination. “She has the answers.”

“I don’t mean to be pessimistic,” Taehyung whispered as he got out of the car. “That doesn’t change that the bond between them is broken.”

“I don’t care,” I said, marching my way up the walkway. “They don’t need the bond to know they belong together.”

“But-”

“Besides,” I said. “I don’t think the bond is entirely broken.”

“What do you mean?” Taehyung whispered as we made it to the front door. Jimin and Y/N were both sitting on the couch with Yuki laying across both their laps. “His Mark-”

“It’s like you said,” I whispered. “Jimin is acting possessive because he hasn’t claimed her. He’s not just being jealous and she may not remember him but her body does which is why-”

“What are you guys whispering about?” Jimin asked in English, his face slightly pink.

“Yea,” Y/N said, her face matching Jimin’s. “You guys have been awfully quiet, it’s quite suspicious…”

“It’s nothing Noona,” Taehyung said with his box smile and a wink, causing Y/N to splutter.

“YAH KIM TAEHYUNG!” Jimin yelled in Korean as he chased him around the house. “DON’T CALL HER THAT!”

“Is he gonna kill Taehyung?” Y/N said slightly worried.

“Maybe.” And just then we hear a picture frame fall from somewhere in the house.

“Shit.”

Yep shit is right Noona.

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