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sugarlove-01 · 2 years ago

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Into The Dark Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

“These rules are insane! Are you working for the crypt keeper?” Bella gawked at the little black book flipping through the pages. “You could be working for an OCD condition type of boss and that’s never a good thing! Remember Rebecca from 6th grade? She worked at the grocery store register and she had a boss who always had an OCD thing and she said he was crazy! He went to prison because one of his employees faced the jar labels the wrong way and he beat their ass. They caught everything on the CCTV camera. You could be working for a crazy person.”

Bella and I sat on my bed fitted with white sheets fresh from the dryer. Mom and dad were having a screaming match out in the garage over bills and money so it was up to us to get laundry done. All of our clothes were folded on the beds and our whole room smelled like laundry soap and crisp linen. We sat and looked at the man’s little black book and all the rules and strict employee policies it entailed. Tonight is self-care night and we both wearing face masks with toe separators around our fresh pedicures. Bella lays on her back on the bed with her leg propped against the wall with a fresh foamy coat of shaving cream. We flipped to page 10 and I glanced at it from top to bottom.

“I mean it does make sense. He’s living all alone out in the most abandoned part of town and he was just robbed. I would be worried it would happen again, too.”

“Holy shit he was robbed?” she glides her pink razor up her leg creating a smooth finish.

“He told me that he was attacked by two delinquents.”

“Well, fuck, that does make sense. Poor guy.”

“Look at this. His breakfast must be on the table at 8:15 am. One plate of spam, bread, oats, and 5 slices of apples with a glass of water and black coffee. Apples must be peeled and sliced into 5 slices. Spam medium cooked with no burnt edges,” I smiled at her almost laughing then flipped through the pages. “And at 12:00 noon he wants me to vacuum the living room after I dust and then I’m offered a lunch break until 1:30. He needs trash taken out, recycle taken out, floors swept and polished. Floor polish is located in the kitchen cabinet. Then he needs his plants watered in his greenhouse. There will be no harvesting at this time. I can’t take anything home since that’s his food and I can’t take any flowers too. His home is not a charity. Then to do laundry and fold them. Walk and feed his dog, Shadow.”

“He has a dog?”

“He has a purebred Rottweiler. But that’s about it. It’s pretty easy and I start next week. There are rooms that I am not allowed to enter. There’s even a restricted basement, closet, and attic. There’s a strict policy about locking the doors every time I arrive and leave.”

Bella laughed, “Are you sure he doesn’t want you to wear a uniform too? The nice little skirt with a feather duster and white stockings? ”

“I highly doubt it.”

“Are you sure this will all be worth it?”

“I’m absolutely positive. There’s nothing stopping me from walking back into that house. Especially for 30 dollars an hour.”

Bella flipped through each page and stopped,” Why the hell do you need to duct tape the carpets…?”

“I guess he might be afraid to trip over them,” I shrugged, remembering the scars on his face. How deep they were and how far they spread down his jaw and to his neck. “He’s blind.”

She gawked,” Blind? Wow. Well, aren’t you an angel! Ok. Then that changes everything.”

“His house is super old and it’s the most secluded part of town. It’s kinda creepy. I could feel it when I was in that room.” I swept my hair behind my back, remembering there were other things I felt when I was in the room alone with him.

“Well, hopefully, he doesn’t lower you into a hole under his basement and demand you put lotion on your skin or something,” Bella shoved my shoulder. “You’d be dead meat! He’d be making suits out of your skin and wear them around the house dancing to Goodbye Horses.”

“Where the fuck do you come up with these things?”

“And look at this,” Bella pointed in the middle of the page. “You are not allowed to have earphones in or play loud music. No sandals, only shoes. No perfume. No visitors at any time and you must bring your own lunch. Clean the bathrooms, organize fridge and pantry, and by 7:00 you have to make him dinner. A slice of spam, bread, oats, and 5 slices of apples with a cup of water. Well, thank god he’s not asking for a chef.”

I laugh, “I know right?”

“By precisely 7:30 you need to help him up the stairs. Why does he need help to get up the stairs?”

“He has a cane and he limps when he walks,” I laid in bed pressing comfortably into my blankets sliding the book onto the bedside table. “He just needs someone to help with the chores since he obviously can’t do them by himself. Which is weird because this guy is…big. Like, he’s huge. I think it’ll be fine. Just as long as mom doesn’t know about all of this.”

“I won’t say a word. What’s his name?”

“I know his first name is Norman but I can’t remember his last name.”

“Norman, hmm? For some reason that rings a bell,” Bella sat thoughtfully. “His story sounds familiar. Oh well, I’ll think about it later.”

“I’ll tell Mom in a week that I got a new job as a caregiver. She doesn’t care what I do, just as long as I make money.”

Bella sat in her chair fixing her bangs in the mirror holding a hairclip in her mouth. She looked at me in reflection.

“When does he pay you?”

“Every two weeks. Everything I need to know about his house and my chores are all written in the book. And there’s no surprise why, too. He’s… not a very vocal guy.”

“Well send me a smiley face when you’re off the job then I can come pick you up. Randy and I want to go to the dance club, the new one that opened, and we need a driver for tomorrow. We’re going to be drunk.”

“I can’t believe you two haven’t been carded yet.”

“Maybe it’ll catch up to us eventually. But in the meantime, it’s a damn good time to be alive.”

She sprayed perfume on her wrists and rubbed the sweet strawberry scent on her neck. Her legs were freshly shaven, hair clipped back and she slipped into her summer dress. She attached her favorite butterfly necklace around her neck lifting her blonde hair around her shoulders. At that moment Bella hopped into the closet rummaging through her dresses and tops and taking out her leather jacket. She was a pretty girl. Mom always said she could’ve been a model if only she hadn’t run away when she was 13 years old and came back at 15 addicted to drugs. But she still had her shine, even after she went through recovery. Slipping on her shoes she opened the window and folded herself through the small window frame.

“Which reminds me! Randy and I are going to the old bar across town. There’s a band playing with $2 Jello shots until 2 am and then we’re going to an After Hours place. They don’t card us out there. He’s bringing his brother Nathan with him. Wanna come?” Bella winked at me. She knew how I felt about Nathan.

I shook my head,” Nah. I need to get up early. I can’t be hungover, I need to go to the library and work on some stuff.”

She unfolded herself out the window standing on the balcony,” Suit yourself, pancake.”

In moments she jumped to her escape running to the awaiting vehicle parked on the curb with a young chiseled handsome football player named Randy sitting in his black Camaro. Nathan was with them. I crawled to the open window and waved. Nathan is the kind of person that can be easily spotted in a big crowd with his short cropped black hair and leather jacket with his faded blue jeans on. I could smell him from here. Nathan looked out the window and saw me too and flashed me a smile. My cheeks burned as he waved back at me. Bella blew me a kiss and Randy honked the horn. They kissed and sped off into the night leaving me alone in bed thinking about the little black book sitting on my bedside table. I dipped my brush into the red polish and began to paint my toenails one by one. I placed two coats of crimson ‘Red Mistress’ on each toe meticulously until one foot was completed. The sweet and pungent smell of toluene fills the room and I take a glance at the book again. Norman.

He’s a very lonesome man.

I allow my toes to dry and I reach for the book again. Even from the little pages and leather bind of the book, I could still smell tiny remnants of the old man’s smoky musty scent with each page turn. My thumb bends the pages and flips through from beginning to end. Something falls out of the book and floats on my pillow. My fingers feel a glossy paper. It’s a picture. I reach for my cellphone, push the screen button, click flashlight, and look at a simple yet gorgeous picture of a young girl with long brunette hair falling on her shoulders smiling at the camera. She’s wearing a white blouse that complimented the pink daisy resting in her hair tucked behind her ear. The lighting looked blurry and unfocused but she was still a beautiful girl. It looks like she’s in front of a university campus because she’s wearing a blue and white sports jacket with the mascot on her shoulder and holding college course books. Flipping the picture over there was something written on the back.

To Dad, Merry Christmas.

And Happy New Year, I’ll see you after the semester is over.

Love Emma

How sweet. At least he wasn’t totally alone.

I heard a knock at the door.

“Yea?”

My mom entered,” It’s me. I just wanted to talk to you about your senior year and college.”

“I told you I’m going to the library.”

“I’m not talking about the library. I’m talking about money, honey. Your dad just got laid off today. The company went on strike today and there’s just no work. His fucking boss let everyone know today. And I know what you’re going to say. It’s not fair and you’re fucking right it’s not fair. I know you’ve been working hard at your job, but right now you’re the only one in the family that’s employed right now. My job is taking a break too and—”

“What about grandpa? Can’t he help us?”

“You know he’s not talking to me… he’s just as stubborn as a mule. He still won’t forgive me about your father and your sister. He’s a fat stern old man and he still won’t give us a loan. He’s completely disowned himself from the family, Evey. It’s hopeless.”

“Grandpa… isn’t a bad man, ma. He just has his reasons.”

“Well, I’m happy you two have such a great relationship. I really love it when he sends you a Christmas card in the mail and not the rest of the family. Or when he sent you flowers and money on your 16th birthday and nothing to your sister. Or me. Or that time when he just visited you in the hospital after I gave birth to you and he didn’t visit me once. You’re getting me off track! That’s not the point. I just need you to understand that I’m completely out of food stamps and your sister is about to go back to New York soon. Times are tough for everybody right now. You know how hard it’s been.”

“Yea…”

“Your dad is downstairs in the garage and he’s not in a good mood. He’s become a hopeless man and it’s up to you and me, ok?”

“I know, ma…”

“You and I are going to be a team. That means we have to take care of each other.”

“So, what are you asking me?” I cocked my eyebrow. Please don’t ask me what I think you’re about to ask me.

“Our mortgage is due soon and you and I have to come up with a plan. Can you give your father and me a small loan? We need at least $1,500 to cover this month, Evey. You would be helping your family.”

“$1,500? Last month you only asked for $900.”

“This time it’s different, honey. We’re on the edge here and if we don’t do something now, I don’t know what we’re going to do. This month it’s for groceries, the car, and our phone bill. There’s so much at stake that you don’t understand.”

“You told me that was the last time you’d ask me for money… You promised, ma…”

“I’m sorry, honey. I don’t know what to say. I can’t control what life throws at us. We can only roll with the punches. You’ll understand when you have a family to take care of one day. I wish I could tell you that there was a magic genie lamp that could wish all of our troubles away, but that’s not how it works.”

This wasn’t new. I had heard of her sales pitch before with grandpa and he had loaned her enough money to purchase a new car. But that was it and he had never helped her after that. My mother had never understood that grandpa was always on her side and he just wanted to teach her some lessons along the way. It was his way of showing tough love. But she was difficult sometimes. So was he. After he had disowned her after marrying his best friend’s son, my dad, he had never once shown up for dinner. A holiday, birthday, or called once. But as soon as I was born then he finally reached out. In some way, I was jealous of his isolation from this family. Sometimes I wish I could be like him and just…leave.

The Next Morning:

“Did you tell her to go to hell?”

“I couldn’t… you know how she gets,” I spoke into the payphone downtown wiping the anxiety from my forehead.

I had to leave the house before Bella served breakfast for everyone back at the house. The sun was barely seeping over the dark blue horizon of the city. It’s nearly 5:15 am. I couldn’t tell Bella I was too chicken to say no to mom again. Then she and mom would fight about money and it would be all my fault for causing family drama and she’d never let me live it down. I could hear grandpa groaning through the phone.

“She could never grow up and find her own way just like her mother. She’s still a goddamn child trying to find her way through a shit storm and now she’s got her hooks in ya’. I’m sorry she did that to you, honey. How much did she take?”

“Almost all of it, grandpa.”

“How much do you have left?”

I looked at my banking app, pained to see such a low number,” I have $500 and $500 in my savings. But I was going to use that money for a new car this summer. I got fired from my job at Burger Shack and she doesn’t know about it. But I recently went to a job interview yesterday and I start next week.”

“That’s my girl! Landing on ya’ feet. I’m glad you called me, Evey, sweetie, I miss our talks. Things have not been so good here either. These damn gas prices got me stuck in Flagstaff, Arizona until I can find another odd job. This goddamn place is poverty with a view.”

“Are you coming back to Detroit?”

“You know I can’t pumpkin. I’m headed to the West coast. California and then Hawaii. One day you and I will go there together. But listen I sent you a little something in the mail, ok? It should arrive sometime this week.”

“Ok, grandpa.”

“Keep your head up. Things will get better, I promise.”

The payphone beeped: To continue your call please add more quarters.

“All right, pumpkin. Don’t tell your mother we spoke on the phone, mmk? She’ll have a cow sideways. You know how she gets. I’ll call you again same time next week?”

“Ok, grandpa. Same time. Same phone booth. I love you.”

“Love you, too, pumpkin.”

I hung up the phone and exited the glass booth. The cold air of a Detroit morning hit my skin and I shivered, it didn’t feel like summer so far. The streets were beginning to wake up and begin their daily commute as time flew by. My phone buzzed and it was Mom. A phone call I did not want to pick up right now. She probably noticed I was gone and needed to talk to me about…whatever she needed to be taken care of. I stepped off the curb and headed toward downtown. I enjoyed blending into the crowd as a faceless nobody. The day was spent slowly, more slowly than I could have dreamed. I just walked. To nowhere in particular. The city began to buzz and ring louder and louder as it approached noon. People, traffic, and arguments could be heard in every direction. I just needed to clear my head. At the end of the day, I traveled on the city bus across the whole map of downtown Detroit. The driver, a balding middle-aged man named Al, would stop and blink the next destination stop for his passengers. One would get off, maybe two, but I never moved from my seat. I had paid a full $5 for the 24-hour pass so I was well in my right to ride this bus as far and as long as I could. By the time I stepped off the bus, around 9:00 pm, near my neighborhood I finally checked my phone.

21 Missed Calls

43 Unread Messages

18 Voicemails.

“Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit,” I covered my mouth and pressed redial.

In two seconds, mom answers the phone and she doesn’t start by screaming. She’s quiet, so quiet that I can hear her breathing through the phone. I wait for her to say something. Anything. But she’s been sobbing and I can hear her voice croak.

“Evey… your sister got arrested last night.”

At The Police Station:

This place smells like feet and ass. It’s depressing too. The three of us waited underneath the fluorescent lights of the station, in the waiting room next to other groups of families. One family looks like they’ve been waiting on the bench for days, maybe weeks. There’s a mother with four of her children and the look on her face tells me a story. She’s sitting in between three little boys and one little girl and they have the same look on their faces as the mother does. I wonder who she’s here for. A father? Brother? Sister? The way she’s rolling a wedding band on her finger gives me the answer. The only thing that doesn’t make me want to cry is the fact that I’ll be able to hug my sister again, soon. No matter what she’s done.

“I told you… military school was always an option. Or boarding school. You never take my advice. Bella is back on drugs and this is all your fault. You were never there to whip her backside when she was young. You coddled her ever since she was born and you never made her into a respectful child. Now we’re here. Are you happy?”

“Let’s not talk about this, please? I didn’t make her on my own. You were there too when she got suspended from school. You were there when we found her in the garage doped out of her goddamn mind. You weren’t there when she ran off to New York and she didn’t come back,” mom whisper-yelled. “Do not pin this all on me!”

“When this is over I am done. You can fuck off. Your dad can go fuck himself and the rest of your goddamn psycho family. Bella, she can go back to New York. I’m going to my goddamn garage and I am never coming out.”

“Oh, and what? Drink till you pass out? You’re a real hero! Yea, you’re obviously the man I married and wanted to have kids with. You’re definitely not a fucking coward or an alcoholic bastard. Bravo!”

This went on and on for god knows how long and I still haven’t said a word. I sat there thinking how nice it would be to be that family of 5 sitting in the lobby with us. To wait there patiently for my husband, thinking about the kids, and waiting for him to walk down that hallway and exchange despair for joy. But as soon as Bella walked down the hallway with a plastic bag and a handful of paperwork mom and dad erupted in disappointment and anger. Disappointment and anger turned into a screaming match in the whole lobby, to the car, and back to the house. I hug her and we hold hands all the way to the car. The evening fast-forwarded like a movie and my sister and I are the only ones standing still. Mom won’t stop screaming, dad won’t stop blaming mom, and Bella can’t stop threatening to leave and never come back again. I enjoyed my invisibility until mom revealed to me that she used the money I gave her as bail.

As bail.

It didn’t faze me until I walked to my bedroom and I had the privilege to cry alone in private. Bella stomped into our room and slammed the door shut. I could hear mom starting a fight with dad downstairs. For a moment she stands in the middle of our room wiping her nose with her sleeve trying to clear her throat before she could speak. It takes her a moment longer to get a hold of herself when she turns and sees my face.

“E-Evey, I’m so sorry… I didn’t mean to… The fucking cop… I didn’t know mom asked you for money or else I…”

“It’s ok, Bells.”

She could’ve exhaled a ball of fire as soon as I said those words.

“No, i-it’s not fucking ok! It’s not fucking ok, E! Stop saying that every time someone fucks up and asks you to pay the price! She thinks this is all my fucking fault but she wasn’t there when the cop came and pulled us over. Randy was fucking drunk and I didn’t know what to do. I tried to help!”

“Listen Bells… mom is always going to freak out about something. It’s mom. At least she had the money to bail you out so you wouldn’t be stuck there.”

“I’m so sorry, E…I’m so sorry… I am so, so, so, so sorry… I’m a big fuck up, Evey… I can’t do anything right,” she collapsed next to me, holding my hand. She weaves her fingers with mine and gives an assuring squeeze and locks me in.

Bella, my sister, was probably the strongest woman I know. Why? Because she escaped this place. She escaped mom’s claws and broke the ‘Guilt Trip’ spell that she was under since the day she was born. But, unfortunately, some traditions don’t break. Now it was my turn. But, thankfully, Bella was nothing like mom. My big sister was still my hero.

“I will get your money back, ok? I will pay you back every penny as soon as I get back to New York. No matter what it takes. I can send you something every week. I’m not like mom. I can pawn my engagement ring and that will help us for a little while. I just… can’t believe mom borrowed money from you again. You should have told me, E.”

“It’s –”

She squeezed my hand, “If you tell me… it’s fucking ok, again, I swear I’ll slap you, E! It’s ok for you to be upset at mom. It’s ok to hate her, E. She did you dirty. She fucking did you so dirty! We… we, actually we both did. We both fucked up and she should be here apologizing to you, too.”

“I get it, ok? We all had a rough week. Dad lost his fucking job. Mom still won’t find an application and prays to the lottery gods every day. And of course, mom is wrong for asking me for money… I just can’t catch a break with her.”

“It’s fucked up, E. Everything is so fucked up. I’m sorry, E. I’m so sorry for everything. I didn’t mean to come here and make things harder for you. I’m sorry you lost your money. I’m sorry mom is a fucking cold heinous vicious bitch to you about money and school. I’m sorry you have to deal with these fucked up people.”

It’s not your fault, I think remembering our childhood spent together dealing with our mother together. Not alone. But together. Always, together. I squeezed her hand in return, offering her a forgiving smile. I remember everything that happened when mom kicked Bella out so many years ago and dad was the root cause of it all. Not even when she’s home, safe, and alive he’ll never apologize for what happened. Dad will go to the grave not apologizing to anybody for anything, no matter how bad it gets. Bella wraps her arms around me and it’s comforting for both of us. I miss our late-night talks in the closet when our school year began. She crosses her legs on the bed and I do the same. I look towards the door listening to our family fight and argue about everything downstairs and it makes me absolutely sick. Grandpa was right.

“I’m sorry, E… Truly I am. I’m a fuck up and you can hate me, too.”

“I will never hate you, Bells. Ever. Because I understand what you went through. I totally get why you left…”

She offered a weak smile, “You talk to grandpa, again?”

“Earlier. He’s stuck in Arizona but he’ll be waiting for me in California just like we planned.”

“Does mom know?”

“Obviously not…” I rolled my eyes.

Bella nods her head, “That’s good. I can give you some money today and that will help you until you start your job next week, ok? I can cash you on your phone right now. Randy can go to hell for all I care. He’ll get over it.”

“Thank you Bells. I can start work again, soon, and I’ll make enough money to get out of here again. Don’t worry about me. Grandpa tells me I always land on my feet and he’s right. I know you feel guilty, Bells, and I get it. But I’m stable for now. My money isn’t all gone. I can always buy a car in the Fall.”

My cellphone buzzed.

My screen blinked on.

It’s from Nathan.

“It’s Nathan…”

She gave another smile, a real smile. “You get that. I talked to him last night and I kinda gave him a hint that you want to suck on his gorgeous lips this summer before your Senior year. I gotta take a shower. When I was in jail I think I accidentally sat on blood,” Bella tapped my leg hopping up and leaving the room with renewed enthusiasm. “Don’t give up on me, E. I love you.”

“Love you, too, sis.”

I look at my text messages from Nathan and I’m suddenly standing in the middle of my room clutching my phone thinking of what to say. Tell him I’m glad he’s ok that he didn’t go to jail with my sister and her fiancé. That I’m sorry I couldn’t say hi to him last night when he was on my street? That I’m excited to hang with him and our friends in our upcoming senior year.

Hey

Hey, you ok?

Never better

So sorry about Bells. I should’ve taken care of her and R man. I was there when it happened.

It’s not your fault

I’m still sorry, E. It shouldn’t have happened. I wish there was more I could say

It means a lot you’re checking up on us. That’s sweet

I just worry about you. And Bells

Me too. I’m just happy she’s alive and safe.

I’m glad you’re ok too

Thx

He placed a beating heart emoji at the end of his sentence and my world began tearing away at the negative and being replaced with positive feelings. I’ve loved him ever since I laid eyes on him in gym class. He was short back then, in Drama club, and had braces. A few moments go by and our back-and-forth conversation suddenly slowed down to a stop and I was worried he had ended the conversation. Then my screen blinks again.

So… hells bells told me that you liked to get together?

Hot panic and anxiety begin to burn and prickle at the back of my neck. What the hell did she tell him!? I think of something to say and my feet carry me in a circle around the room before sitting at my desk. I rest my head against my palm and I want to scream.

What did she tell you?

Why don’t I just tell you? I’m outside by the mailbox.

I stand and peer out the window and sure enough… Nathan is standing outside my house with his hand on his cellphone and the other waving at me. My hot breath fogs up the window as my legs become weak like jelly and I hang up the phone and wave back. Quickly I go through my closet and find my cleanest pair of blue jeans and a white floral V-neck shirt and tie up my hair with my headband. One quick once-over in the mirror and I sprinted out of the room, down the stairs, and to the front door. Mom won’t know I’ll be gone and god fucking forbid my dad knows I’m going out to see a boy outside. Nathan is still waiting by the mailbox but soon I tug him into the bushes and away from the house. We go to his car, a black Camaro, underneath the shade of an oak tree. The neighborhood is quiet with rows of shaded trees along the sidewalk with boxed flowers in front of every yard. Nathan doesn’t start the car, we sit instead and we don’t leave because we both know that this is going to be quick and sweet. I look at him and keep looking at him. He’s young and lean and strong wearing black jeans with a blue polo shirt and Jordans. His physique is built from years of playing basketball, baseball, and football. This year he’s joining cross country.

“Hi.”

“Hi…” I smile shyly.

His car is polished, clean, and immaculate with leather interior and decorated with a tiny disco ball on the rearview mirror. Just for a little flash. Nathan enjoyed a little flash here and there. It was his personality. He glides a hand through his thick black hair and he seems too anxious to talk. He turns his keys and switches the radio on.

“Fresh wax?”

“What? Oh, yea, my old man and I just got this done last weekend. You like it?”

“Yes, I do.”

“You meant the car, right?”

I laughed,” No, no, no I meant your bikini area.”

“Well, shit, that too. You know me. I’m ready for summer.”

We laugh and I look at his face. He’s handsome when he laughs and his whole body moves when he does. His eyes are a beautiful burnt hazel color and I suddenly become anxious when he turns toward me. We look at each other and I notice he’s trying to keep it together.

“So… Bella told me that you wanted to talk? I mean not talk, but hang out. Again, I’m sorry about what happened last night. I should’ve been more aware of what was happening. I’m just glad you weren’t there. I-I mean not that I wouldn’t want to see you. I like to see you. All the time. It’s just that I wouldn’t want you to go to jail. You know what I mean?”

I bite my lip,” Yea. I do. Thank you for being there anyway, Nathan. You’ve been really good to my sister and me”

“Of course. If there’s anything that I can do for your family you let me know.” He places his hand over mine and suddenly I’m in heaven

“Thank you,” I smile weakly, wondering what he must see in me.

My skin is so fair-skinned that I could see blue veins in my hands and my newly braided hair was so pale, unlike Bella’s, it looked white and silver in the sun. I was so skinny that I was often mistaken for a youth instead of a teenager on the cusp of 18 and so short in stature that my head just came to his shoulder. Even sitting in the car with him I could feel his body take up so much space.

“So… d-did Bella tell you that I like you?”

“No.”

He shook his head, his hands moving over his knees. “Oh, well, that’s cool. I mean I do. And it’s cool if you don’t. I mean I can handle it.”

“No, no, no, I do like you, Nathan. I’ve had a crush on you for a while…”

“Really?” he raised his brows and scooted closer. “Because, I totally feel the same, Evey. I liked you ever since you told Angie Harney Dinkleman in History AP she was a frigid cunt in front of the whole class for bullying Morgan about her gap tooth. And that time you called out Sara Sienna Silverman for cheating on her boyfriend with his brother in the cafeteria a day before the school dance. Or that time you broke into Mathew Mathius Callaway Jr’s locker room in gym class and stole all the girl’s bikinis back and got him suspended for sexual harassment.”

“He was a misogynistic asshole who deserved it! I’m so glad enough girls came and petitioned with me and got his ass expelled.”

“Me, too. He was a douchebag. None of the guys on the baseball team liked him very much. But I want you to know that I liked you before then. You’re the smartest one in the class and you don’t even have to try. You’re nice, too, not a lot of pretty girls are nice.”

“Yea?”

“Yea. You’re a pretty chill girl.”

“Thanks. You’re really sweet…” I leaned toward him and placed a kiss on his cheek.

We both blush to realize it’s our first kiss and he still sits there waiting for me to give him more. His eyes are burning into mine and the song on the radio changes. But I can’t give him more. I’m not as experienced as him but I make it clearly evident I want him.

“Wow. So that’s what it’s like…”

“What?” he counters, never taking his eyes off my lips. Still leaning toward me and I stop him placing my hand on his chest and, my god, he’s so impressively lean that it takes my breath away. He’s an inch away and I close my eyes still holding him at bay no matter how much I want him to continue.

“My first kiss…” I whisper.

He laughed tossing his head back,” That’s why I like you, Evey. You got guts and you’re not afraid of anything. Or anyone.”

“Thanks… I like you, too, Nathan… and I’m so glad to hear—"

The beams of a flashlight suddenly blinded both of us and I squinted my eyes to my window. I raised my hands to block the light and panicked. Oh my god, it’s the cops! The man’s finger taps on the window and I roll it down. He moves the flashlight over my face and to Nathan and suddenly we’re both too shocked for words.

“Evey!”

“Dad!?”

He swung open the car door and grabbed my wrist,” Get out of the goddamn car!”

Nathan panics and gets out of the car.

“Dad, it’s not what it looks like. We were just talking!”

“Evey’s dad, sir, um, we weren’t doing anything.”

My dad roars at him,” You better get the fuck out of here before I call the goddamn cops! She is a minor and I’ll have your ass arrested so fast you’ll be digging cocks out of your ass before you even bend over in the shower! Not in jail but in prison! You hear me!?”

“Dad, stop it!”

“Get the fuck inside the house!”

My dad’s face is so red I swear he’s about to burst into flames and I can see the veins across his forehead. Our neighbors are suddenly on their porches in their bathrobes listening to my dad yell threats at Nathan and my face is burning red with embarrassment. All I can do is cover my face with my hair and let my dad yank me back to the house. Nathan tries to follow us but my mother comes out of the house barefoot and my sister comes running out of the house in her bathrobe and my world crumbles before my eyes. I watch Nathan disappear from my view and tears form in the corner of my eyes.

“What the hell is going on!?” my mom growls.

“Get the fuck back inside the house! That boy was selling our daughter drugs! They were sitting in the car and he was pushing drugs!”

I try to escape his grip,” He’s not a drug dealer, dad! He’s just a boy from school!”

My dad drags me into the house and sits me down on the couch in the living room prepared to have a family meeting. Bella sits down with me and holds my hand.

“Dad, chill the fuck out. It’s not that bad. You caught me in bed upstairs with Craig back when I was 15! You even knocked up mom when you both were 15. What’s the difference!?” Bella barked at him.”

He pointed a stern finger at her,” That. Is. Fucking. Different. And not another goddamn word, do you hear me? Another word out of you and I will take a belt to your ass.”

Bella is so tempted to bite back at him that she stares him down. They both stare like this for an eternity. I squeeze her hand extra hard and try to help her stay in our own little safe zone. Mom is done talking to the neighbors trying to cover up our shame and came back inside and stood next to her husband. She looks embarrassed and doesn’t say anything. This isn’t her problem and goes upstairs.

“I’m sorry, daddy…” is all I can say.

Bella looks at me, almost shocked I could surrender so easily.

“You two…” he pinches his nose, shuts his eyes, and drops his head. “You two are so… goddamn disappointing. Do you want to give me a heart attack before I turn 40? Because you’re taking me there! I got one foot in the grave!”

I’m too scared to say anything that I shrink into the couch. I want to feel as small as possible. Tears fall down my cheeks and my leg shakes. My dad’s face is sweating he’s trying to muster all his strength just to breathe again. But he just yells and yells and yells and my ears suddenly go deaf. All I can hear is a high-pitched ringing like a bell inside my head. He’s waving his arms up and down and he slaps his baseball hat against the wall. I let my head fall and I just close my eyes. I’m picturing Nathan’s face as I kiss him on the cheek and how sweet he tasted. I’m trying to picture me and Grandpa driving his red Buick Roadmaster 1975 on Route 66 all the way to sunny California. Just me and him wearing sunscreen and sunglasses with the windows rolled down driving wherever we want. It’s the freedom I’m imagining. It’s the freedom to do what I want when I want, how I want, and with whomever I want. I’m imagining me and Bella in Hawaii laying on the beach in our bikinis enjoying a fruity cocktail with tiny umbrellas. I imagine we’re running through the white foam and splashing into the ocean laughing. The sun is so hot it gives us tan lines and the ocean is so cold we see sea turtles.

“EVEY!” my dad shouts throwing a vase against the wall.

The crash pulls me out of my daydream and I’m back in my living room holding hands with Bella. She never left.

“What?” I respond, blinking back to reality.

By now my whole body is shaking as I watch my dad walk over the broken shards and stand against the wall supported by his hand looking at the family photo. He was younger with more hair and no sign of a beer belly. Our mother looked so much happier and sunnier back then and hadn��t drank so much vodka. Bella and I were in matching tweed dresses with bows in our hair. It was a memory that seemed so long ago. It was hard to believe we were the same family in the photo. He looks at our family photo deep and hard and then looks at the picture of himself wearing his football jersey in high school. He was younger, stronger, and more confident back then. He just stares and doesn’t say anything. Like looking at the picture long enough can make him time travel back to fix his mistake.

“You are fucking killing me! You are literally murdering your old man! I can’t believe that God would give me these two fucktards instead of boys! I always told ya’ motha that I wanted boys. But life had to kick me in the nuts! You think I wanted to be a dad!? You think I want a pregnant daughter!? DO you really think I want two pregnant daughters!? Do you think I know how to do this!? You think it’s fucking easy for me!? I never wanted ta’ both of ya’s! You were the biggest mistake of my life!”

He points his finger at me.

“You talk to that fucking drug-dealing friend of yours or get pregnant before you’re 18…and I am kicking your ass to the curb and you are never allowed under my roof again! You two’s were the biggest mistake of my life! After having Bella I told ya’ motha’ to take the goddamn pill but she just had to fucking keep ya!”

Bella shot up from the couch,” Dad!”His eyes are puffy and so red I can see his veins. He’s been drinking. Maybe he’ll remember what he says or maybe he’ll forget tomorrow but I still can’t move. The ringing in my ears comes back and I go deaf. It’s like I’m underwater and I can’t hear the upper world beneath the surface. I’m trying to go back into my daydream again but I see dad slip his belt out from his waistline and he snaps it. Bella is screaming at my dad until he slaps her across the face with his hand and she falls against the wall. I stand up and scream.

#don'tbreathe2 #don'tbreathe #normannordstromxreader #captivexcaptor #kidnapping #normannordstrom #stephenlang #stockholmsyndrome #theblindman

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willow-salix · 4 years ago

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Fluffember Prompt: Trinket

Day 17 of Isolation on Tracy Island.

“I’m coming! I’m coming!” I yelled as I ran up the stairs from the kitchen and then up again to the sleeping quarters where Grandma was screaming for my attention. I had no idea what was going on with her or why she sounded so worried but I was there to help. Well, I kinda had to be, since I was the only one about.

Virgil was on a supply run with Alan, Scott was in a virtual meeting with Jeff (which he was hating) John had gone ‘to the office’ and I had absolutely no idea where Gordon or Kayo were. Twas a mystery.

“Grandma?” I called. “Where are you?”

“In here,” she yelled back from the direction of...oh, crap. Gordon’s room.

“There’s nothing in there that will kill me, is there?” I asked as I rounded the corner. You could never be too careful, I’d heard tales of the near misses his brothers had had while trying to navigate the dangerous terrain to wake him up in the morning. That boy can sleep through almost any alarm.

As soon as I walked into the room I saw that something was wrong. I didn’t trip over anything and the usual piles of rubbish that littered the carpet like land mines ready to explode were notably absent. I took a tentative step over the threshold, pinching my nose in anticipation for the stench that had been known to flow from the room in waves after Gordon had been fishing and not put his clothes in the wash.

I stepped further into the room and let go of my nose, gingerly sniffing the air, just a few experimental intakes of breath, just the barest inhale, ready to clamp my nostrils shut to stop the assault to my senses the second I felt the need.

A sweet floral scent met my previously abused sinuses, making me sigh with surprised pleasure. I ducked my head back out into the hallway again, testing to make sure the smell was definitely coming from the inner sanctum.

“No, you’re not imagining it,” Grandma assured me.

I pulled my head back into the pit, or by the looks of it, the room formerly known as the pit. I took a few hesitant steps into the room, scanning every inch of the carpet, carpet that I was surprised to see was actually a rather nice blue colour, not the usual sea of abandoned clothing, books, magazines, toiletries and celery crunch wrappers I was used to seeing.

“This is very strange,” I mused.

“It’s not right at all,” Grandma agreed. “In fact, it’s downright suspicious.”

“Why are you even in here? You know it’s dangerous, last time that pile of clothes fell and you were almost buried.”

“Almost? I’m just lucky that Scott heard me and dug me out.”

I nodded, although I knew she was being a tad over dramatic. It seemed to run in the family.

She was right though, it wasn’t right at all, but I wasn’t fooled completely. He had tried to trick us into thinking he had tidied his room before, especially when Scott nagged at him about it.

“Can you just check down there for me?”

I nodded and dropped to my hands and knees, peeking under the bed, expecting to be greeted by the entire contents of the room stuffed under it in the ultimate ‘out of sight, out of mind’. Nothing. I saw right through to the other side of the room.

“It’s clean,” I reported.

“Look in there,” Grandma ordered, pointing at the wardrobe from a safe distance just in case the contents decided to avalanche out at her.

I straightened up and shuffled my way over to the wardrobe and gripped the handles loosely, all the better to let go quickly, I was ready to leap backwards with what I hoped was the grace of a gazelle. I hoped to stay out of the path of the avalanche of laundry, empty crisp packets, leaking pens, shoes and hawaiian shirts that I was sure would come tumbling out to bury me under their combined mass.

I pictured it leaving nothing but my arm poking out, waving weakly, leaving Grandma to get help from whomever might happen to be passing. Not that I actually expect to get said help, anyone who was even remotely sane in this house knew that if the door to the pit was open you should avert your eyes and pray you made the journey past with all of your senses intact.

I braced myself and flung open the doors, on guard. Nothing. The contents of the extremely tidy closet stayed in their designated place, looking orderly and smelling fresh.

“What the hell?” I stepped back, a frown of puzzlement creasing my forehead, my eyes narrowed into suspicious slits, hands finding their way to my hips as I looked around the room.

“Grandma, did you do this?”

“No! You know I won’t touch any of the boys rooms. I only came in because Gordon borrowed my trinket box.”

“Trinket box?”

“That wooden box on the bookshelf?”

“Oh! The found things box!” I nodded my understanding. The found things box had come about because Grandma was forever finding odd things in people's pockets, down the sides of the couches or dumped on various surfaces around the villa. She gathered them all up and popped them in the box so that everyone knew where to look if they had lost something small, that way they wouldn’t keep asking her if she had seen whatever they had misplaced. She’d just say “check the box, if it’s not in there then I haven’t seen it.”

“Did you find it?”

“Yes,” she pointed to the box on the (clean and polished) bedside table.

“Anything missing?”

“Only my thimble, though I can’t imagine what he’d want with that.”

“Oh, he calls that the prick protector, he uses it whenever he’s making new fishing lures and hooks so he doesn’t impale his fingers,” I told her.

“I’d like to be suprised by that,” she started.

“But you're not because you know him,” I finished. She nodded.

“Something’s definitely not right in here,” Grandma said again, clearly unable to let it go.

The more I looked around, taking in the neatness that surrounded us, the more I began to feel the first signs of worry stirring inside my chest.

“This is not like our Gordon,” I said. “I think we need to investigate further."

We left the room formerly known as the pit, the bedroom of doom, the black hole, and thumped our way down the hallway to the stairs.

“Gordon!” Gradman yelled at the top of my voice.

Honestly I wasn’t that surprised that we didn’t get an answer.

“Are Jeff and Scott still busy?” I asked.

“I think so,” Grandma replied with a sigh. “I don’t know where I went wrong with him, the rest have always been so good, such neat and tidy boys.”

I raised an eyebrow at this. I didn’t want to say that I didn’t believe her but…

“OK, they have always picked up after themselves with the bare minimum of prompting from myself or their father. Not like Gordon, he would just as soon sit in his mess than lift a finger to do anything about it, though if I bash into him hard enough with the vacuum he might be inclined to lift his feet out of the way as I clean around him.”

“That sounds more likely,” I agreed. “We need to go find him.”

The whole tidy bedroom thing upstairs was getting stranger and stranger by the minute. We glanced into the living room on our way to the kitchen to make a fortifying cup of coffee, and noticed that the sofa was all on its lonesome, no Squid lounging on it with his feet up on the coffee table. I walked over to the friendless couch and gave the cushions an experimental poke. To my shock, and slight worry, they plumped straight back up to their full height, they hadn’t been laid on all day like they usually were. Normally a crow bar and a crane would be the only things to remove Gordon from his preferred napping and holoprojector viewing spot when he had nothing to do, that or the word “food” shouted from the kitchen. That begged the question, what was he doing?

***

We were making our way back up to the bedrooms when we heard the whomp of doors opening somewhere in the villa, followed by a slam as they closed and the thump, thump, thump of Alan as he pitter-pattered his way down the hall towards us with the light footed elegance of a fairy elephant.

“Do you know where Gordon is?” Grandma asked. A blank stare and the vague shaking of his head was the best answer she was going to get to her question and she nodded, dismissing him, not really having expected much more than that anyway.

“Have you even seen him today?” I asked.

“Nope,” he moved past us and headed into his room, closing the food behind him.

“I think we need to ask the sane one,” I suggested. Going into Gordon’s room I touched the comm on his chest of drawers.

“If this is to ask me to put a dog filter on Scott’s face during his video call, the answer is no, again.”

“Well, I wasn’t planning on it but now you’re giving me ideas.”

“Oh, hi,” beloved hubby greeted me, “why are you calling from…” his eyes darted around, taking in the room around me. “Is that Gordon’s room?” The disbelief in his voice, I hadn’t heard that from him since the last time we’d stopped at the pet store so I could look at the fluffies and I had promised I wouldn’t fall in love with a hamster.

“Yeah, weird, huh?”

“I’ll say.”

“You got any clue where he is?”

“No, but give me one moment.” His head vanished from view as he checked his feeds. “Sorry, no, his comm tracker is turned off and Thunderbird Four is out of its dock and in dark mode.”

“Seriously?”

“I wouldn’t joke about that,” John assured me.

“Oh gods, where the hell is he? Do you think he’s OK?”

“I wish I knew,” Grandma answered, looking as worried as I felt.

I looked around again, looking for anything unusual but it was pretty near impossible, of course things were unusual, it was bloody tidy.

I sat down with a thump on the neatly made bed (the poor thing was probably in shock) and that's when I heard the crackling sound that appeared to come from my butt.

I jumped back up noticing the folded piece of paper for the first time where it nestled in the indent left on the sheets where my not insubstantial buttocks had just come in to land.

“Grandma!” I yelped, hardly daring to look. I held out the paper to her and she unfolded it with slightly shaking hands.

“Dear Grandma, “ she read aloud. “I have left home. I have run away to join Fishler Industries in their underwater department with my new girlfriend, Jodie. I met her online on a Buddy and Ellie fan page. She’s a little bit older than me, she’s thirty-four and was just released from prison six months ago. Don’t worry, it was only for burglary and a little assault, she never killed that man like everyone said she did. We are moving in together once we get the rats and the cockroaches out of the trailer she “borrowed” for us, creepy crawlies aren’t good for the baby. Oh, yes, that’s right, Jodie is pregnant, you’re going to be a great-grandmother. I’ll phone you when we get settled. Love Gordon.”

“He’s...what?” I stuttered. “John?”

John was looking as dazed and confused as we were.

Grandma held out the letter to me and I took it, reading the words again myself.

“This doesn’t make any sense!”

“There’s writing on the back,” John called out. “Flip it over.”

I did as I was told, eyes quickly scanning the words, a mixture of relief and ‘I’m gonna kill him’ flooding through me.

“What does it say?” Grandma demanded to know.

“It says,” I started, reading aloud.”Ha ha, not really. But now I bet the fact that I borrowed Dad’s old hoverbike to race with Alan and accidentally backed it into your display stand of Big and the Boisterous trinkets doesn’t seem so bad now, does it? I’m checking on my reef babies, call me when it’s safe to come home.”

(I woke up feeling really poorly today, so I’ll try to get updates written and out over the next few days but I can’t promise anything.)

#Gordon Tracy #Isolation Island #Thunderbirds in isolation #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirdsarego #thunderbirds 2015

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sparrowmoth · 4 years ago

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Your Baby Ain’t Sweet Like Mine • [AO3]

Teen | 2.2K | Jaylos | Domestic Fluff, Humor, Werewolf!Carlos, Halloween

CW: Biting as self-soothing stim, implication of cleaning compulsion, and minor swearing

Jaylight, 1:35 PM: done early Jaylight, 1:35 PM: omw back

Hellhound, 1:42 PM: kk

“Puppyyy, I’m hooome!” Jay called with a laugh, half-stumbling in through the apartment door, his keys loudly jingling in his hand and his tourney bag slung heavily over his shoulder. “Hey, are you still studying?” He kicked the door shut and dropped his bag with a thump, narrowly missing his own foot.

“We should go out,” he continued cheerfully, unfazed by the lack of reply. “I’ll buy you a coffee, we can walk around the park, maybe pet a few dogs—whatever you want! Come onnn,” he practically pleaded, taking a few steps down the hall, “let’s just get out of—dude, why’s it so dark in here?”

Jay paused to let his eyes adjust, still seeing spots from the bright sun he’d spent the morning under; now, the only trace of it was spilling through the cracks of the curtains, drawn tight against the day—

“Are you taking a nap?” he whispered loudly, chuckling a little from the euphoria that yet surged through his blood. He half-expected to be shushed as though he’d yelled in a library, but when the silence persisted, he started to frown. “Carlos…?” He took a slow step forward, then paused again.

Was that—? “Uh…” Jay squinted into the shadows. “What… are you doing?” he asked slowly, tilting his head at the sight of Carlos laid out on his belly in front of the couch, arms folded in front of him.

(That wouldn’t be so strange except, as often as he vacuumed it, he claimed the carpet in their rental apartment wasn’t clean enough for Jay to walk on barefoot, let alone for him to lay right down on it.)

Next to Carlos, Jay observed a load of textbooks, neatly labelled folders, scattered pens and papers, and a large mug, all set atop the coffee table. The TV was on a few feet away, volume muted and blue light dimmed. Jay could have guessed the channel without even looking at it. The Weather Channel.

It was always the Weather Channel.

He turned it on like a lamp when he wanted the light, put the volume to zero, and looked away from the screen to whatever he was doing. Jay had never asked him why he did it, and Carlos never said.

It was just one of those things, and today was—

“Just one of those days, huh?” Jay asked casually, kicking his shoes off and nudging them toward the wall. “That’s okay, we can hang out here.” He shrugged out of his jacket, letting it fall to the floor. (It was sweaty, anyway. Needed a wash.) He was about to walk away from it when he heard a growl—

Carlos’ eyes were on him, lip curled up in warning, no soft edge of near-sleep from a moment ago. He stared intensely as Jay raised his hands in surrender, flashing a sheepish grin. “Right, sorry, pup…”

Jay bent to retrieve his jacket, quickly disappearing around the corner to where their laundry was.

When he returned, it was to neither praise nor acknowledgement.

Carlos had lowered his head and taken on that same sleepy, glazed-over expression as before; his eyes were open, but unfocused. He gave no indication that he cared, or was even aware of, the fact that Jay was studying him, hovering near the kitchen with a worried frown, deeply considering—

He’d managed not to notice it when he first came in, but now, even in the dim light, he could see them plainly: the pink impression of teethmarks riddling the length of Carlos’ forearms—

Human teethmarks, obscured by his freckles.

Carlos was gnawing at his own arm like a teething puppy, not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough to raw the skin if he kept at it long enough. Jay knew that from experience, as well he knew that if Carlos was up to this behaviour again, then he was either nervous about his exam, or…

He’d done something he shouldn’t have.

Jay’s eyes narrowed, catching on a scrap of something orange peeking out from beneath the couch.

“That better not—” he started to say, before catching himself. (This was Auradon, after all, and what did Ben always say? Something about guilt before innocence—er, the other way around, probably.) “—be the time,” he continued, following an awkward pause and a gesture toward the stove clock.

It fell quiet for lack of response, Jay just standing there with his lips half-parted, wondering what to say that would get Carlos to admit his obvious g—oodness, yeah—yeah, that was the word he meant.

“Hey, so…” Jay glanced at the clock again. “Did you have lunch yet?”

Carlos froze, then slowly shook his head, averting his eyes from Jay as he continued to gnaw his arm.

“Really, not even a snack?” Jay asked, taking a step forward with his hands in his pockets, trying to look casual. “I mean, no wonder you’re so tired, you must be starving.” He hummed a little, feigning a thoughtful expression. “Oh, man, you know what’d be so good right now? Extra large pepperoni—stuffed crust, three cheese, breadsticks on the side, couple of sodas—mmm.” Jay slapped his stomach.

Carlos whined low in answer, burying his head more in his arms when Jay raised an eyebrow at him.

“What, you don’t like pizza? Since when?” Jay pressed, taking a step forward. Carlos was quiet now, but Jay could see the guilty shine of his eyes in the shadows. “Are you feeling sick or something?”

Carlos whined again—a muffled, throaty sound, more embarrassed than apologetic.

“That’s weird,” Jay murmured, brows knit into a soft frown as he strode further into the living room. “Weren’t you fine when I left this morning? Said you were just gonna study, maybe go for a walk…” He stopped just short of the couch, crossing his arms as he stood over Carlos, who peered up at him through his lashes, teeth still half-sunk into his own flesh. The audacity he had to look at Jay like that…

No one looked so pure and wasn’t guilty of something.

“It’s almost like—” Jay stooped to pick up the scrap of an orange wrapper he’d noticed peeking out beneath the couch, near Carlos. “—you ate something you shouldn’t have.” He flicked Carlos’ nose before straightening up, causing his face to scrunch in a way that Jay tried hard not to find adorable.

He wasn’t allowed to be cute until Jay was done being mad at him about this.

And Jay was mad. Sort of. Like, at least 15%, rounded up from 13.4%.

(Wait, was that how math worked?)

Whatever.

Jay sighed, suppressing every instinct he had to just say fuck it and pull Carlos up off the floor, onto the couch, into his lap. He wanted to cuddle him until Carlos pushed away and insisted he was fine, didn’t need one of Evie’s remedies—just wanted some pizza—extra large, stuffed crust, pepperoni—

Instead, Jay let the wrapper flutter down atop Carlos’ head, and asked him flatly, “How much?”

Carlos didn’t respond, didn’t react at all until he heard Jay sigh and shift forward, bending to push the couch aside before Carlos stopped him with a scrabbling grip on his ankles. Jay glanced down, unimpressed, then planted his feet on the carpet, ignoring the bite of sharp nails digging in through the fabric of his black jeans.

Be more obvious, he thought drily, giving the couch a hard shove toward the wall.

SURE ENOUGH.

Trust Carlos to have swapped out all the dust bunnies for a dragon’s horde of chocolate wrappers.

“Lucifer’s sake,” Jay muttered, not wanting to believe that his precious idiot of a boyfriend had eaten so much literal poison this close to his time of the moon. “Cee, we talked about this…” He ran a hand through his hair, stressed at the thought of Carlos having eaten all this in the brief time he was out.

It wasn’t even Halloween for another week, so where in the Beast’s name had he managed to get so much—

Shit. “Half-Foods Market,” Jay uttered beneath his breath, squinting at nothing. He shook his head, glancing back down at Carlos with an accusatory stare. “You said that was for the Isle Kids. You said you ‘couldn’t even reach’ if I put it on the top shelf. Hades, how did you—why would you even…”

Carlos made a noise caught somewhere between a growl and a whine, equal parts frustration and embarrassment. He grew more impulsive when the moon was waxing into fullness—not entirely himself at this time of the month, even before the fur and fangs and all the rest of it appeared.

Honestly, Jay should be so lucky if it were Carlos’ impulse to bite the mailman, or hunt a squirrel, or swallow his steak before he could even heat up the pan, but no—no, it was never anything like that.

Carlos wanted chocolate, and he didn’t much care for Jay’s allegedly “dramatic” monologues about how dangerous it was and how he shouldn’t risk it, because—allegedly—Carlos “wasn’t some idiot.”

Worse than that, actually, he was an evil genius.

And he’d gone so far as to calculate how much wolf’s blood was coursing through his veins on any given day, relative to the moon cycle and, in turn, how much chocolate he could ingest for the price of a killer stomach ache. He’d shown Jay the numbers on his scratch pad, tried to explain them and convince Jay that it was honestly safe, that he should trust him, that he was being careful, but—

Still, Jay insisted on telling everyone that Carlos was allergic to chocolate. Deathly allergic.

(He always shot Carlos a look when he said that last part.)

Not a lot of good it’d done, since here they were now, with Jay about to have a heart attack, because Carlos—little shit that he was—had just given him a look of his own (a “shy” look that Jay didn’t buy for a second—and why should he?); in the very next second, Carlos was rolling over to expose his belly and, yes, still more evidence of his guilt—still more fuel for Jay’s nightmare in daylight—

Jay sat down hard on the floor, burying his face in his hands. “You are the worst boy,” he groaned.

Carlos made a soft, throaty noise of discontent, reaching out to paw at Jay’s leg until he cracked one eye open to peer at him from between his fingers. “I’m really mad at you,” Jay grumbled, though it wasn’t even half-true. He was just worried, and maybe a bit annoyed—yeah, maybe a lot annoyed.

But anyway.

He watched as Carlos flopped back onto his belly and began to wriggle forward, keeping his eyes on Jay as he reached up, pushed his knees apart, and twisted around in the space. He sat up and leaned against Jay’s chest, tipping his head back to stare at him as Jay slowly let his hands fall from his face.

“What?” asked Jay, raising an eyebrow when Carlos frowned at him. “I don’t know what you want.”

Carlos growled low in accusation as he grabbed one of Jay’s hands and placed it on his belly, moving it a little in a circular motion. He frowned more at the ghost of a smirk that played on Jay’s lips—

“Oh, your tummy hurts? Couldn’t possibly be from all that chocolate you ate.”

Whining, Carlos arched his neck to press up under Jay’s stubbled chin, rubbing slowly but firmly in a way that, Jay had learned, was his way of saying sorry when he didn’t have the words. He had this, and—

This was enough, yeah.

Breathing out a sigh, Jay relented and began to rub slow circles over Carlos’ belly, moving his hand up beneath his shirt as he worked. He couldn’t help but smile at Carlos’ contented noise and the way he leaned more into Jay—such a force to it that Jay rocked backwards a little before catching himself.

“You’re still the worst boy,” he teased in a low voice, causing Carlos to reach up and fist at his hair in retaliation. Jay closed his eyes at the feeling of Carlos’ fist uncurling to become a comb against his scalp. He was soothed by the touch as much as Carlos was soothed by a warm hand on his aching stomach. It was more than that, really, but Jay could never explain it, never translate all it meant—

He’d stopped trying, at some point—stopped trying to convince the world around them that these moments mattered as much as any conversation, that they both knew the language of silence—

And they could say so much with their bodies.

Jay cracked a smile at the feeling of Carlos’ stomach rumbling and clenching beneath his hands. He opened his eyes, angled to press a soft kiss to Carlos’ temple, then whispered into his ear, “That’s your body saying no more chocolate until the new moon.” (Carlos huffed a breath.) “You think I’m joking, but just wait—you’re gonna be the one explaining why the Isle Kids get corn nuts this year.”

Thank you for reading! Reblogs are always appreciated. <3

#descendants #jaylos #descendants fanfiction #jay son of jafar #carlos de vil #my writing #my fanfiction #descendants spooky time #werewolf!Carlos #descendants fandom #the fact that I managed to write this #a seasonal fic in the correct season #what an accomplishment #my powers are growing #dajklgjdsakljgkal

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stopforamoment · 6 years ago

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PART ONE What Makes a House a Home (1 of 10)

MASTERLIST

Book: The Royal Romance (After Book Three) Pairing: Bastien Lykel x OFC Rinda Parks

Word Count: 2,118

Rating: M for Language

Author’s Note: Obligatory disclaimer that Pixelberry Studios owns the TRR characters and my pocketbook with those darn diamond scenes. OFC with all of her quirks is all mine. My apologies if Tumblr or I do something stupid when I try to post this. The keep reading link shows up on my laptop but not my phone. Ugh.

Series Nine: The Transition

Series summary: This takes place in the beginning of October when the transition to Drake Walker as the security officer is now complete. It’s Bastien’s last day at Valtoria Primary School and the community gets together to say thank you and goodbye to Bastien. This series focuses on Rinda’s place in her community and her feelings about the future. It also focuses on the transition she’s making from widow, teacher, and mother to someone who wants something more with Bastien.

Chapter summary: Rinda’s house is a constant hot mess because her home is the gathering place for the neighborhood kids, but she doesn’t mind because she knows life is too short to sweat the small stuff.

PART ONE What Makes a House a Home (1 of 10)

Rinda’s house was always a disaster--that was no secret. She was barely able to keep up with the basics throughout the week. In the bathroom she tried to wipe the sink and clean the toilet bowl on a regular basis and Swiffer the area around the toilet bowl (Henry’s aim still needed work and half the neighborhood kids used that bathroom because it was too much work for them to walk a block or two to their own house). However, the shower curtain was always kept firmly closed. Open it and be nosy at your own risk. In the kitchen she tried to keep up with dishes, counters, sometimes the the stove, major spills, and the area where they ate their meals (usually half of the table was cluttered with papers—work stuff and important paperwork Rinda wasn’t ready to deal with yet). When they moved to Cordonia they had to leave their Ollie Bollie dog with friends back home, and Rinda quickly realized how much she missed having a dog to clean up the floor spills. Rinda didn’t believe in making the bed every morning because it was a waste of time since they’d just sleep in it again that night, but sheets had to be changed at least once a week, and you made your bed then. Major cleaning like picking up clutter, vacuuming, and washing floors was done on the weekend. Folding laundry too, but it was still the norm for Henry and Rinda to search through the clean clothes basket when they needed something to wear. (So really, folding the majority of your clothes could also be considered a waste of time.) In spite of the weekend cleaning, her house was usually a mess again by Sunday night because kids were in and out all weekend. But she didn’t mind because life was too short. Way too short.

There were occasional incidents. One time Phillip was bouncing a football in the house, even though Rinda repeatedly told him not to. He and Henry were screwing around, and the ball landed in a pot of spaghetti sauce, but the momentum also knocked over the entire pot. The boys suddenly got quiet, knowing they were in big trouble. Bastien was there, and he was more interested in seeing Rinda’s reaction than to be upset with the boys. Rinda quickly turned off the burner, but she needed a moment before saying anything. She didn’t care about the mess but she hated wasting food, and it was a neighborhood meal night so it was A LOT of spaghetti sauce and they were supposed to eat in 10 minutes. She asked Phillip and Henry to check with Mr. Ariti and Mrs. Manikas to see if they had more spaghetti sauce. Then Henry would show Phillip where the cleaning supplies were, and Henry had to help Phillip clean. The stove was still hot, so they’d have to wait until after supper to clean it and yes, it would be harder to clean once the sauce started crusting and drying up on the stove. She would also have some other chores they’d have to do, but she would tell them later that night after she thought about it a bit. But before she went to the pantry to check for more spaghetti sauce she turned to the boys with a grin. “You know if that would have been a baseball it wouldn’t have been so messy, right?” Then Bastien teased Phillip that it was too bad he couldn’t make goals that well. Henry started laughing at Phillip, and Phillip started laughing too. After supper the adults laughed at the incident—it really was funny Phillip had such perfect aim, and it was one of those things that became a memory that everyone laughed about years later. “Remember when Phillip . . .” But what Rinda didn’t realize until the next morning was that there was spaghetti sauce spattered on the ceiling. She sighed. That would have to wait until the weekend. But of course, she never got around to cleaning it because she was too short to reach it, even on a chair. That was just one more thing to add to the deep clean list before she moved. Then there was the clutter. The house was small, so it felt like there was no room for the things they accumulated as the weeks went by. There was a large bin of lost and found items by the door, and kids were often told to check the bin once a week. Usually, however, parents would come and Rinda would welcome them in with a cheerful grin and tell them to poke around. She kept clean clothes in a separate plastic bag. She usually found random things when she was folding laundry, and it was silly for the parents to have to re-wash things, so she always tried to keep clothes clean. Things like shirts, socks, and shoes would be mixed in with the clothes Henry would scrape off his bedroom floor (even though Henry had a laundry hamper in his room) when it was time for Rinda to do laundry. She just threw things in the washer, and she would chuckle at the things she’d find as she folded clothes. She swore the kids must go home naked some days.

But that was just the tip of the iceberg. In her living room there were large sheets of white paper taped on her wall next to a toddler work of art drawn in defiant permanent marker. It was Rinda’s fault. She made the rookie mistake of leaving Sharpies on the kitchen table one day, and the Manikas toddlers found them and used that spot on the wall to express themselves. Rinda couldn’t bear to clean up their artwork. It reminded her of Henry’s toddler scribbles on her walls back home. She and Jameson always meant to reprime and repaint the walls, but when they finally got around to it Henry was older, and Rinda begged to keep a couple of Henry’s better art pieces. Just paint around them. Please. He was growing up so fast. Seeing Owen and Will’s scribbles on her wall reminded her of home, and Mr. Manikas promised to help her wash and paint the walls when it was time for her to move. Then Rinda put up the pieces of paper, and everyone helped remind the boys that they could only draw on the paper with the special markers Mrs. Parks gave them. And not every home had paper on the walls. This was a special treat that was only at Mrs. Parks’ house.

There was random glitter throughout the house and crusty glue stains in the carpet from a group art project. Maddie and Cosima thought it would be fun to make glitter prince and princess crowns in the kitchen one rainy afternoon, so there was glitter everywhere from then on. It was just impossible to get it all cleaned up. That same afternoon Phillip and Henry were in the living room cutting cardboard and gluing pieces together to make swords and shields for all of them. They were on the carpet because Rinda was working at the kitchen table and she had papers spread everywhere. So now there were some bare spots in the carpet where the scissors went through the cardboard and permanent crusty areas in the carpet from the glue spills that just wouldn’t come out. Maybe if she rented a steam cleaner? But just add that to the move out cleaning list. Rinda also made a mental note to see what constituted “wear and tear” in her housing contract.

Then there was the living room clothesline with Ziplock bags of money and a chore list attached to it with clothes pins. She had lists of “above and beyond” chores that needed to be done around the house, and anyone who wanted to do the chore could do it. When it was done to Rinda’s satisfaction, the child could have the money in the Ziplock bag. Mr. Ariti and several other neighbors decided to add their own chores and money to the clothesline. It was just easier to keep the jobs posting in one location, rather than have the neighborhood kids pester everyone when they wanted to earn money. One kid did try to steal a Ziplock bag before doing the chore, but he was turned in by another indignant child. Rinda had a chat with the boy and then let the Lord of the Flies group mentality take care of the rest. It was never a problem after that.

Bastien was a neat and organized person, and in all honesty he was appalled at the pandemonium in Rinda’s house—until he got used to it. Then he couldn’t imagine it being any other way, and the joy in her house made up for the lightening rod of chaos that made her house a home.

Mr. Ariti would just grin as he watched the children race in and out of her house, and he would laugh as Rinda would apologize to him—and everyone else—when they came over. But Mr. Ariti understood. He remembered what it was like to have young kids, and he still welcomed the neighborhood children to play in his yard. Sometimes he’d ask Rinda about a new stain on the floor or dent in the wall and Rinda would sigh, thinking about how much she’d owe for the damage to the house. But Mr. Ariti told her not to worry about it. Just tell him the story of what caused that new mark, because it kept him young to have all the children around. Besides, everyone in the neighborhood would help her fix up the house before she moved. It would be fine. Just keep living life and making this house a home.

What Rinda didn’t know was that Mr. Ariti owned that house. It was his starter home, and he had so many memories of him and his wife trying to raise four children in that shoebox of a house. Being invited to dinners and seeing how her home became a magnet for the neighborhood children made him happier than she would ever know.

When Mr. and Mrs. Ariti were younger that house next door, the one that Mr. Ariti now lived in, was owned by an older couple who were the backbone of the neighborhood at that time. They often helped Mr. and Mrs. Ariti with their kids and reassured them that a messy house was fine. Just enjoy life because kids grow up faster than you realize. Besides, it takes a village to raise a child and just pay it forward. They’d understand one day what that meant. And when that older couple were ready to move into a retirement community they offered to sell Mr. and Mrs. Ariti their home for a very low price, but only if Mr. and Mrs. Ariti agreed to somehow pay it forward. Perhaps they could rent out their smaller home to younger couples who were just getting their start in life.

When Rinda was chosen to come to Valtoria the timing was perfect and really, it was meant to be. It was a last-minute switch to bring Lorinda Parks to Valtoria and the person in charge of housing for the new teacher was in a panic. But Mr. Ariti heard that there was a teacher exchange program starting. The previous family who lived in Mr. Ariti’s starter home bought their own house and were preparing to move out, and even though it would be cutting it close, Mr. Ariti could have his starter home available to rent. But then Mr. Ariti heard the new teacher was a widow with a son. It was just the two of them, and he knew she would be at Valtoria Primary School, where so many of the neighborhood children went to school. It could be a perfect fit, and Mr. Ariti offered to donate the use of his house for the semester, with the condition that he remain anonymous. Even the families in the neighborhood didn’t know who actually owned that home. They just knew it was always rented out to young couples. When Mr. Ariti met Rinda and saw how much she added to their neighborhood community he couldn’t be happier. Well, unless they stayed in Cordonia for more than a semester.

Mr. Ariti always reassured Rinda when she worried about the condition of the house. Trust me, Rinda. You don’t have to worry about the condition of the house when it is time for you and Henry to move. Just keep living life and making this house a home.

#choices trr #long post #bastien lykel #rinda parks ofc

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ventiventivici · 6 years ago

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I just finished an emotionally long shift. I'm tired. I feed and walked the dog around the back yard and up and down the block. I'm now exhausted. Oh yay me I have to clean the huge mess and the living room. So first I fixed the vacuum cleaner. Vucuumed and carpet cleaned the floor so our could smell like something other than dog piss. Now I have to fold and put away the clothes left in the drier and laundry blanket upstairs. The thought of that is making me more upset. I keep imagining myself 8 months pregnant with a sore back, swollen feet, and an even bigger house to clean. As my family sits in the mess watching TV. That thought is truly causing me to cry right now. I'm tired of the fake promises that things won't be like that. But if you haven't done better by know. Why should I hope you do better then...I wish I lived alone again. Clean house and no one there to fuck it up if I'm not home.

I'm hurt and frustrated.

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pete-rparker · 7 years ago

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Assistant

Word Count: 1881

Part 1

Part 2/?

A/N: All the tags are at the end! Thank you again for all your support for this series! It really makes my heart warm.

It’s Wednesday, meaning you have to clean and do laundry. It’s always best to start early since it’s a large tower. You tend to spend the most time in the most occupied rooms. The family room, kitchen, hallway with everyone’s room on, and people’s room you have permission to clean. Steve’s, Bucky’s and Clint’s are the only ones you can clean. Including yours. You do everyone’s laundry as well since you have a trick to get blood stains out. There is a staff of about 10 other cleaners who do other floors. Meeting rooms, main entrance and storage is for them to clean. Rooms where anyone can enter without anything being discovered is fine for the staff to clean. If there are confidential things, however, you have to be the one to clean it. You hear footsteps following you.

“W-wait! (Y/N)! I mean… Mrs. (Y/L/N). I didn’t mean to offend you!” Peter says, catching your arm and making you turn to face him.

You smile politely at him, “I’m not offended, Mr. Parker.”

“Peter. I just hope that you didn’t take what I said wrong. I just mean, I’m spider-man and I have difficulties keeping everything straight. It’s really admirable that you can keep everything straight when you have a million things to do. I only have one.” He rants, scratching the back of his head.

You melt slightly, your stiff lip and ‘I’m just your assistant’ attitude faltering slightly. “Mr. Parker, you have so much that you do. More than me. I don’t take any offense to what you said. I just wanted you to know the facts. I love what I do here and what I contribute. It can be a lot, but I’m not drowning in the work load.”

“Please call me Peter.” He tells you, taking a step closer as he looks down at you. “I just… don’t want you to feel like you have to be my assistant? Like, I don’t want you to put your needs to the side to attend mine- or any of ours.”

Your exterior melts entirely. Peter’s puppy dog face is just too much to resist. You sigh softly and smile at him. “Peter, all my needs are met. Tony treats all of his employees well. I make sure that all my duties are attended to, but I also make sure that I’m not killing myself in the process. Why are you so worried about me anyways?” You ask, looking up at him. Damn, why is this kid so tall?

He shrugs, smiling, overjoyed with how his name sounds coming out of your mouth, “I just figured that since you’re the only one within 5 years of my age, we should stick together. Maybe I can help you with your next chore?”

You giggle, covering your mouth to muffle the sound. “I have to clean, I’m sure you don’t what to do that.” Watching his face change at the sound of cleaning, you start to laugh. You clear your throat while you try to make a straight face.

He pouts slightly. “I totally want to clean with you.”

You shrug, “Too bad you don’t have the clearance.” You smirk before turning around and walking to your room, leaving him in shock. You hear a soft sigh before footsteps leading away from you.

You enter your room and lean against the door. You cannot let yourself get involved with anyone on the Avenger’s team. You’re their employee, nothing more, nothing less. With that resolve in your mind, you get to cleaning up your room.

You finish with your room quickly, since there’s not much in it anyways. You move onto Bucky’s room. His room is the most bare, with very few possessions. You put the few things in their place before dusting and vacuuming. You change his sheets and toss the dirty one in the giant basket you have for dirty laundry. You grab his own dirty laundry basket and put it next to the giant one. You move onto Clint’s. Even though he has his own house to live in, he has the dirtiest room. How can one man have so many possessions?? You get to organizing his stuff, putting magazines in the rack you bought him, making sure his desk looks nice, hanging up clean clothes, tossing dirty ones into a basket, picking up trash, clearing his bin, and changing his sheets. After you’re finally done with his room, you grab his personal laundry basket and put it next to the other two. You dust and vacuum to finish off before going to Steve’s. Steve’s room is always clean, which is why he lets you clean it. All you do is dust and vacuum. He does his own laundry as well, said it’s because a man should do his own laundry. You check everyone else’s room to see if they have any laundry. Only Tony and Bruce have laundry that needs to be done. Natasha doesn’t have any. You don’t dare check Wanda’s or Vision’s rooms. They told you that they’re off limits, which you respect.

You move all the baskets inside your room so that you can mop the hallway floor. You love to make the hardwood shine, it’s just relaxing for you to clean. You are so engrossed in your mopping that when the door to your left opens, you nearly slip.

“S-sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you!” Peter says, his hands out, ready to catch you if you fall.

You laugh, wiping sweat off your forehead. “It’s okay, Mr. Parker. I just didn’t realize someone was in their room. You glance behind him at the mess that is his room. “I clean some of the Avenger’s rooms, do you want me to start to clean yours?” You ask innocently.

Red floods his cheeks as he glances back at the mess himself. “What? N-no. No, it’s fine. I’ll clean my own room.”

You nod, “It’s not necessary to have a clean room, Mr. Parker. Some like it that way. I can do any laundry you have.”

Parker shakes his head once again. “No, I can do my own laundry. I don’t have much here anyways.” He points back to the few items of clothing scattered on his floor. He may not have a lot of things, but they are just scattered like they don’t mean anything.

You smirk at him, “You know, they say you can learn a lot about someone through the way they treat their stuff, Mr. Parker.” You turn back around to continue your mopping.

“Please don’t step on the wet floor if you choose to leave your room, Mr. Parker. Though that won’t be a problem, I assume.” You shout over your shoulder as you mop down the hallway.

You hear a laugh from behind you before a door closes. You assume he shook his head with that smirk of his.

You finally finish mopping the floors. Thankfully, your room is at the end of the hallway, so you can get to your room without mussing up the amazing job you just did on the floor. You grab the giant basket containing the 3 boy’s dirty bed sheets and your own. You carry it down to the laundry room.

The hallway where all the rooms are, is connected to the family room. It’s a very open floor plan, so you can see the kitchen and the dining area on the left. A door on the right, near the hallway is what leads to the washer and dryer. Thankfully, there was an open storage area that you made into a cleaning supplies closet along with the washer and dryer. Otherwise, you’d have had to walked to the 1st floor where the employee lounge and necessary appliances are. You toss the bed sheets in and start the washer. You walk back to your room to grab the other 5 laundry baskets. Yours, Clint’s, Bucky’s, Tony’s, and Bruce’s. That’s 5 loads to get done. Which won’t be time consuming for you, since all you have to do is let it run and switch it out once it’s done. It gets time consuming when you have to fold, but you put on a good show and just mindlessly fold as you watch.

Once the laundry is in, you get to cleaning the family room. This usually takes longer than necessary since there’s people milling about. You don’t want to be rude, so you have to dust stragically so that no one’s view of the tv is obstructed and that you don’t get dust on anyone. You quickly finish vacuuming, making sure to go under legs and not to be too loud for too long.

You put the vacuum and duster away in the cleaning closet and pick up the rest of the garbage in the family room. You organize the random items, books, magazines, and the likes, where they belong. Next is the kitchen, dining room and the rest of the staff will finish the rest of the tower. Taking a glance at your watch, you notice that it’s been 4 hours since you’ve started cleaning. A good time.

As you change the laundry out, you notice a certain spider climbing on the walls so that he doesn’t muss up your mopping job in the hallway. You snort slightly, covering it up as a cough.

Peter glances at you, smirking before jumping off the walls onto the carpeted living room floor. “Like you said, no problem.” He shrugs before going to sit in front of the tv. You shake your head, a light smile on your face as you grab the necessary supplies to clean the kitchen and dining room.

You first go through the fridge, making sure that all the food is not expired and the many left overs are good. Then you go through the pantry, making sure the canned goods and dry foods are good as well. After 30 minutes of cleaning, dishes and all things necessary to have a clean kitchen, you’re finally done. You take a deep breath, glancing at the sparkling countertops and shiny silver appliances. A job well done.

Clint comes into the kitchen and lets out a low whistle. “Dang, (Y/N). It looks amazing in here. I am always stunned by your cleaning abilities.” He rubs the top of your head, messing up your hair. “You always know what to do to make life a little easier around here.”

You chuckle, swatting away his hand. “Thanks, Mr. Barton. I try my best.”

He shakes his head, grabbing fruit from the fridge. “Clint.” He says before walking away.

You’ve always called the group by their last name. Tony and Bruce like it. They’ve never corrected you. Clint, Steve and now Peter have never given up trying to get you to call them by their first names. While you do in your head, you wouldn’t dare to out loud.

You move onto the dining room. It’s not hard to clean since it’s just a large table and chairs. All you do is dust and mop. It takes you about 20 minutes.

You’re finally finished with cleaning. It only took around 5 hours, which is usually how long it takes you. You glance at your watch, 11:00. Time to start online schooling.

Tags:

@tienna-lauferson16 @gerardwayisapotato @unevenpages @ninja281 @zsupernaturalz @ravenclaw-geek24 @sexysamsungl @official-maddibrown @sweet-nightingale-171 @fantasyy-is-my-reality @cynthiarose07 @mmycchemicalrromance @aria-has-gone-awry

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cathrynstreich · 5 years ago

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12 Smells Homebuyers Hate

Ahhh, time to sell your house. You want to get the best price for your house – and you want it to happen fast! But the competition out there can be stiff…especially if there are lots of great properties for sale in your area. So how do you give your home the edge?

When it comes to selling your home, you’ve got to think beyond how pretty it looks, how nice the shrubs are outside, and whether the paint color on the front door is a turn on, or a turn off.

It’s no secret that you’ve got to appeal to their sense of sight – after all, we perceive up to 80% of our information through vision.

If you want to sell your home fast (and at the best possible price, of course), you also need to pay attention to is smell.

It’s true… stinky homes sell slowly. Sweet-smelling homes are much more desirable!

Even though it may seem like common sense, many sellers can overlook it because it’s not just the obvious smells that make potential buyers run away holding their noses.

So read on to learn about 12 scents that potential home buyers hate as well as how to fix them. Then read further about what smells home buyers love.

Smells homebuyers hate

1. Smoke

Back in the day, it was pretty normal for some homes to have a smoky smell. Restaurants had smoking sections, cigarettes were sold in vending machines, and many people smoked inside their house.

Nowadays, however, smoking is practically verboten, so this smell is a big no-no. Whether yours is from a small fire, a smoking habit, or overzealous fireplace usage, you can get rid of it by wiping down surfaces with vinegar, steam-cleaning your carpets, and washing the draperies. If that’s not quite enough, use an ozone generator – it’s a wonder tool when it comes to eliminating smoky smells.

2. Pet odors

Plenty of people have pets and love them. Your potential homebuyers may even have pets of their own. Does that mean they’ll love the smell of your pets? No.

Whether you have dogs, cats, hamsters, birds, or hedgehogs, you’ve got to address the odors they leave behind before a single potential buyer walks in.

Depending on what kind of pet you have, there are many options to try. For instance, FurryFreshness (available on Amazon) gets great reviews, and Angry Orange (also on Amazon) promises to take out even the most barnyard-iest of smells. But certainly search around for a product you feel comfortable and confident in using. Use cleaning products such as those on your flooring and upholstery, and if you’re about to have a showing or an open house, consider removing cages and food dishes entirely.

(Pro Tip: If you have it in you, finding a temporary place for your pet to live while your house is on the market will help you keep the odors from coming back.)

He’s sorry about the carpet. Kinda.

3. Cat urine

Yes, pet odors were just mentioned, but cat urine gets a listing of its very own because it is so universally hated. It gets into carpets and pads and even into the subflooring, so it’s really hard to completely remove. Even if Fluffy is out of the house, her leftover wee-spots can still trigger a reaction if your potential buyer is allergic.

If cat urine is the aroma you’re trying to abolish, you’ve got your work cut out for you. Start with the flooring by using cleaning products like the ones mentioned above. If that doesn’t work, call in a carpet cleaning pro – they can take out smells and stains a homeowner can’t get to with their pro-grade equipment.

Next, you’ll have to move on to the walls – yes, the walls. Cats can mark vertically, so wipe down the walls with diluted vinegar solution, and if that doesn’t get it, you can move onto the strong stuff like Kilz. Beyond that, there’s always repainting! Keep at it until the cat stink is gone – it’s worth any time, effort, or money you put into it.

4. Cooking smells

If you’ve ever worked in an office, you can probably relate to a coworker microwaving leftover FISH for lunch. You can practically feel the stinky fish particles sticking to your clothes and hair and the inside of your nose! Guess what – your home has those same particles after you cook. If your cooking method of choice is deep-frying, they’ll stick around even longer!

Yuck.

The good news is this isn’t too hard to fix. The best way to get rid of cooking smells is to wipe down your appliances and surfaces, and then set a pot of vinegar, water, and lemon rinds on to boil. If you still have a lingering odor after that, you can leave bowls of baking soda out – baking soda will absorb the smells in the air just like it does in your fridge. OR, you can just get take-out for the duration of the selling period. How about that for a good excuse to order a pizza?

5. Dirty laundry

Let’s be honest – laundry is the most exhausting chore. You’ve got to sort, wash, dry, sort, fold and put away… and even then, the clothes that you’re currently wearing will be in the dirty pile by tonight, so this chore is literally never done. You’ve got to take care of this, though, because dirty laundry is an icky smell – and it’s even worse when the clothes you’re smelling are not your own.

Get the laundry done ASAP, and then run a cleaner like Affresh or OxyClean through your washer, too. You don’t want the laundry room smelling like an old gym bag when Mr. and Mrs. Buyer come in, do you?!

6. Kid funk

If you’ve got kids, you’ve got smells. And the worst part is you’re with them so much, you might not even notice it! From old French fries stuffed into the couch cushions, to diaper pails, to less than perfect aim in the bathroom, kids really know how to bring the funk.

Unfortunately, there’s no easy fix for this because kids will keep making messes until the day they move out. Try to keep it down to a dull roar with regular cleanings – especially in the bathroom areas. While your house is on the market, keep Clorox Wipes at the ready so you can do a quick wipe down everyday, and vacuum once a day. A sprinkle of baking soda on the carpet before vacuuming helps with any lingering odors, too.

7. Mothballs

You might think that mothballs were a thing of the past. Nope, the mothball market is alive and well – there are hundreds of mothball products on Amazon alone. While keeping bugs away is always a good idea, the odor that mothballs leave behind is an undesirable side effect.

You can banish the smell with vinegar or activated charcoal, and when it’s back to smelling good again, hang sachets with natural alternatives like cedar. You’ll get the same bug-banishing effect and none of the “this smells like a gross old house” byproduct.

8. Incense

To some folks, incense smells relaxing and reminds them of getting a massage or going to yoga. To others, though, incense reminds them of head shops and all things Reefer Madness.

If you burn incense, when you put your house on the market, put away the Nag Champa, clear out all the ashes and burners, and open up the windows and air the place out. Even if you like the smell, you never know who’ll be looking at your home, so clean it up. Knowing your home will sell faster will bring back any Zen feeling that removing your incense takes away.

Nothing says, “This home is hippie-friendly” like incense.

9. Sewer gas

If you’ve got the occasional rotten egg smell in the house, you may have decided you can live with it, but when you put your home up for sale, you’ve GOT to deal with it. No one wants to buy a house that smells like sewage sometimes. And, Murphy’s Law dictates that the day people come to see the property is also the day that the shower or floor drain will smell like rotten eggs.

If you can pinpoint which drain is the culprit, you can try DIY solutions to flush out the offending drain and P-trap, or you can make life simple and call a plumber. Either way, get that stinky drain cleared up and enjoy a much more desirable home!

10. Bleach

When it comes to showing your home, clean is good, but bleachy clean is bad. Too much bleach makes buyers wonder, “Are they trying to cover something up?”

Use cleansers with less of an odor profile, or if you must use heavy-duty stuff, open your windows and turn the fans on for awhile afterward so that the bleach odor has a chance to clear out.

11. Mold & mildew

Nothing says, “Scary, potential water damage – avoid this house!” like the smell of mold and mildew. Dreams of saggy ceilings and black mold will dance in your would-be buyers’ heads when they get a whiff of this stuff, so take care of it before you even hit the market.

First, make sure there are no current leaks which may be causing mold or mildew. Also consider whether you have adequate ventilation in the area. Because even if you are able to get rid of the odor, if you don’t find and stop the cause, it will just come back.

Then, if it seems to be minor mildew, you can try and clean it yourself with some cleansers and a little time and effort. But, if the mold or mildew is bad enough, it is a good idea to hire a professional to come in and clean or remediate the affected area.

12. Too much of a good thing

If you’ve ever been around a preteen boy who’s just been introduced to cologne or body sprays, you already know that too much of even a decent scent can be a very, very bad thing. No matter what fragrance you add to your house, do it judiciously. Many people are turned off by strong smells, and some may even get sick from it.

If you’ve got a ton of candles or a Scentsy thingamajig in every room, dial it back a notch. If you’re hard of smell and can’t tell if it’s still too much, just go by this rule of thumb – one candle for a small room, two for a large. Any more and you’re heading into vanilla-spice-overkill.

While we’re on the topic of candles and air fresheners, let’s talk about the scents that homebuyers love. It’s true �� with scent, you can subtly influence your home viewers to feel happy, nostalgic, and relaxed – these all good feelings you want them to associate with your house! Here are a few…

Smells homebuyers love

Cinnamon

When it comes to cozy, comfy, “smells like home!” goodness, cinnamon tops the list. This scent practically screams, “Grandma! Apple pie! Americana!” so having it wafting through your home is sure to inspire good memories. A reed diffuser with cinnamon scented oil in the kitchen will give off the perfect vibe.

Citrus

Unlike bleach, citrus is a GOOD clean smell. You don’t have to stick with orange or lemon, either – with all the products on the market, you can pick from grapefruit, clementine, lime, citron… the list goes on and on. Citrus scent is basically sunshine in a bottle, so apply liberally and give your home happy vibes in just about every room.

You can just smell the good vibes, can’t you?!

Clean laundry

Fresh linens smell awesome, but you know what smells even awesomer? Clean laundry YOU didn’t have to wash! Give buyers a sparkling fresh scent and they’ll feel good and relaxed without even realizing it. Keep your linens clean and then give your rooms a boost with a spray or an essential oil diffuser. Ahhhhh – smells like a high-end hotel.

Cedar

If your home is at all rustic or woodsy, a cedar scent is a natural complement to the decor and architecture. Many people have a fantasy about living in the woods – help them indulge in it with this homey, natural scent. You can use oils, sachets, or even cedar wood furnishings – any of the above will give a warm, woodland aroma.

Fresh baked cookies

When all else fails, you can always rely on fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies to bring happiness to your buyers’ noses. If you don’t want to bust out the mixing bowls every time there’s an open house or a showing, even slice and bake cookies do the trick, so preheat that oven and make people fall in love with your home!

Smells just like homemade!

One last bit of advice…

No matter which of these good smells you pick, it’s important to stick with one – or maybe two, if they’re complementary and the house is fairly large. No one wants to breathe in cinnamon-citrus-cedar cookies, and as we talked about above, there is such a thing as too much.

Now this brings us to an important question.

How do you know if your home kinda…stinks?

Well, there are a few ways to tell.

Trust your own nose.

As you walk through your house inhale deeply. If there’s ever a place where you think, “Huh, that’s a little funky…I wonder if anyone else can tell?” the answer is YES, they can. So find that odoriferous offender and do what it takes to neutralize it.

The only problem with this is that we tend to get nose-blind to our own surroundings, so if you think everything smells great, you at least want to double check with someone else. Which brings us to the next suggestion…

Ask a picky friend or family member.

Have a friend who can sniff out unappealing smells from a mile away? Ask him or her to come over and sniff out any trouble spots. (Give them a delightful scented candle or potted basil to thank them for their trouble afterwards.)

If you’re just not sure who to ask, or your close group of peeps is just as insensitive to smells as you are, you can always…

Ask your real estate agent!

Agents are in and out of enough houses to know what smells normal and what buyers will interpret as an aromatic punch in the face. Also, if you do have stinky spots or an all over stench, they probably have good suggestions on how to handle it yourself – or even a list of vendors who can do it for you. Your real estate agent is your trusted advisor for a reason, and in many more ways than you probably think, so trust them to help you out of a potentially stinky situation.

There you have it – smells that would-be buyers hate and scents that will make them fall in love.

If you want your potential home buyer to love the place as much as you do, clean it up, air it out, and add just a bit of a pleasant scent. These small touches will make a big difference in the end!

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