#but i started laundry and took out trash and vacuumed part of my floor | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rpmemes-galore · 3 years ago

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a few people wanted to know the story, so enjoy. fair warning, its a long, rough read, with a buncha triggers possible throughout. but hey, hey, enjoy, i guess? will probs end up deleting this later today and gonna work on memes. hope y’all are doing okay, take care.

My relationship with my older brother has always been really... rocky. Without going into too much potentially triggering detail, he hurt me a lot when I was younger, so there's a lot of fear surrounding him. Saying that now as the reason for why I could never stand up to him for this.

A few years ago, my family decided that someone should move into our late grandparents home to look after the place, and I immediately volunteered. I loved that home, that farm. There were a ton of good memories there, and I was so excited when my family agreed. But, then my health took a downward turn and it was decided I couldn't live alone due to safety reasons. Enter, my older brother. He was in his late twenties at the time, and parents wanted him to finally move out, so they said he was going to come live with me there to keep an eye on me in case something happened. I wasn't happy about it, but he was the only one who could, and the only way I'd get to live at my late grandparent's place, so I agreed to it.

Right from the start, things were not great. He didn't help unbox anything except for his own belongings... No kitchen stuff, no bathroom stuff, just his clothes and computer. As it was just me doing it, and with my fragile health at the time, it was taking me a long while to get it all done. And that's when my aunt thought it was a great idea to start doing weekly visits, i.e. inspections of the place. She got pissed when she saw things still boxed up after a week of being there, but told me she was willing to look past it if it got put away soon.

I busted my butt getting everything put away, then. But I was contending with other issues at that point. He'd started messing up the house. I would wake up to find garbage and crumbs across the kitchen counters and table, dirty dishes dropped wherever he was closest to, and his dirty laundry dropped on the living room floor. His room started getting bad, as well. From about a month of being there, it started to stink. I went in a few times and there would be dishes with rotting food on his dresser. The floor was covered in a layer of food wrappers and other garbage. Dirty laundry was thrown everywhere. His game discs, which we'll come back to later, would be laying unprotected on the floor.

It just got worse from there. At the start, he'd tidy up a little bit after himself. If I asked politely enough, he'd throw garbage away or bring his dishes out of the room... only if I asked him. Three months in. That changed. He started getting snippy at me, slamming and locking his door if I asked him to do anything around the house. His messes were getting worse, and it was just me trying to play catch-up everyday. It got to the point my morning routine was wake up, head out to the kitchen while picking up any dirty laundry / garbage on the way, gather up dirty dishes from around the room and put them on the counter to wash, wash a few of them just to get a headstart, wipe crumbs off all counters and table, wash the rest of the dishes (I still don't understand how he could use so many in a single night), sweep floors if the crumb situation was bad enough. All this before I'd allow myself to have anything to eat or drink, due to sheer panic of my aunt stopping by unannounced again and seeing the place in this state.

My brother was working a very part time job at the time and, as soon as he left for his shift, I would pounce on his room. I'd haul out armfuls (plural) of dirty dishes which I'd then hurry to wash, I'd carry out at least one full, heavy duty garbage bag of trash. I would try to make his bed after brushing off the crumbs. All this in the few hours I had before he'd get back home. And he would always get incredibly pissed at me for it, which I understand. I know it was an invasion of privacy and, if not for the aunt, I wouldn't have done it... But the state of his room was going to get us both evicted, so I felt justified doing it.

It went on this way for a year and half. During that time, he made me bring his game discs in to get them fixed, had me pay for them, and never paid me back. I wound up in the emergency room on three separate occasions, all due to working myself to the point of over-exhaustion and aggravating already pre-existing health problems. Once, when I was away for a few days, he'd turned my room into a storage room. Ie, he threw all his laundry and belongings on my bedroom floor because he didn't want to deal with them. I wound up having to sort through it and pick it all up. He moved the landline phone into his room, essentially cutting off my contact to the outside world behind a locked door as my cellphone barely had any service there. He took food money from me, against my will, to buy his own... Would eat part of it and let the rest rot in the fridge until I cleaned it out. (important note, I have a lot of dietary restrictions. So it's not like I could just snack on it or share it with him. I just had to deal with him basically stealing my food money, then wasting it on food I couldn't even eat.) He would lock himself in his room anytime the aunt came by, making me have to face her wrath on my own, because I had no lock on my door, and I wasn't allowed to put one on. He would barge into my room uninvited, but get pissed if I went into his. He would expect me to play video games with him and throw a fit if I said no, even after I explained that I had too much cleaning to do and, if he really wanted me to play with him, he would have to lend a hand so it would be done quicker and I might have energy to play. He never did. He wouldn't empty out our cat's wet food and would just let it go moldy if I wasn't there for a few days... and would 'forget' to refill her water.

The only jobs he was expected to do around the house were emptying the cat litter for our one cat and vacuuming, both things I physically couldn't do because of severe asthma. And once a week, he was supposed to bring laundry over to our parents place to wash, as we didn't have a washer or dryer. I remember him vacuuming once the whole time we were there. He rarely emptied the cat litter, which meant I would wind up having to do it once in a while and just suffer through a serious asthma attack afterwards. He also rarely brought the laundry over. I wasn't able to drive, so I would wind up having to ask my mom to bring it over with her when she visited. Three jobs. He hardly ever did any of them, but still expected the house to be clean when our aunt stopped by and would be upset if it wasn't. He just didn't want to have a hand in getting it that way.

On the subject of other family, I tried reaching out. My parents would visit on occasion. They both knew how bad it got, they'd seen it at the worst. I'd even called my mom in a full crying panic more than once, when the aunt called in the morning to say she she'd be there in an hour... And the house wasn't clean. Mom had to come over and help me speed clean it, with me working through a full-blown panic attack, scared I wouldn't have it "clean enough" by the time the aunt got there. Mom is also the one who drove me into the ER. She knew how bad it was, but he was her golden child. The "can do no wrong" child, and I was always the problem. She would tell me I was making it out worse than it was, that it wasn't that bad, that it wasn't his fault he was messy, that I should just deal with it and clean up after him. Dad would at least seem sorry for me. He'd tell me he wished my brother would clean up after himself, but that there was nothing he could do. Aunt just didn't want to hear my excuses. She would yell at me for the state of the place, after I'd worked myself half to death cleaning already. She blamed me for it, threatened to kick us out over every tiny thing wrong. Made passive aggressive comments. Took pictures and said she would show them to the rest of our relatives so they'd know how we were destroying the house, ect.

A year and a half of this. I lost a dangerous amount of weight. I hardly slept, hardly ate, anxiety spiked so badly I was having panic attacks at least once a week, especially toward the weekend when I knew the aunt was coming. All of my days were devoted to cleaning up after him. I dropped hobbies just to wash dishes or pick up his garbage. I even pulled an all-nighter just trying to make the house look presentable... After I'd been in the hospital and spent a few days at my parents place recuperating, so you can imagine the state of the house.

Toward the year and a half mark, I met my now husband. When we decided he should come spend the weekend, I was both happy and terrified. I worked myself to the point of passing out to make the place look decent. I asked my brother to help, told him we would be having company, and was met with a slamming door in my face while he went back to his video games. Now husband came up, we had a great time and chose to make it a weekly thing.

It was about a month into that when I went away for the weekend with my then bf. At this point, he kind of knew how bad it could get and just wanted to get me out of there for a few days. He'd even given my brother a piece of his mind for not emptying the cat litter and making me do it, because of my asthma. So brother hated him. Told me to break up with bf for being "rude" to him. Even called my mom to complain about it and it I got chewed out by my mom for "letting" my bf at the time talk to my brother that way. I was beyond sick of brothers bullcrap. I was exhausted. Had been in the ER just recently because of him, again, and needed to get away. Bf took me up to a cabin and we spent the weekend there, had an amazing time. And brought me home. From the second I stepped back into the farmhouse, I wanted to cry. It was an absolute disaster, like the brother had gone out of his way to destroy the place. So much garbage, laundry, dishes, ect. I said goodbye to the bf, who was horrified and reluctant to leave... And I started trying to make a dent in the horror show that was the house. It didn't take long for me to breakdown. When I called the bf that night to make sure he'd gotten home safe, I told him how bad it was. And he invited me to move in with him. I jumped at that chance for more reasons than one.

Brother took immediate issue with this. He threw a fit when I told him. Straight up told me I was being selfish, that I didn't appreciate all he did for me, that how dare I leave, how could I DARE to move in with someone who talked to him that way!! I just packed up a few of my things and went with the bf. Just like that. I was out.

It was three months before I went back to grab a few more of my things. In that time, brother had gotten an eviction notice from our aunt and was having to move back in with the parents. And I don't blame her one bit. Let me paint a picture for you of what I saw when I walked in the house: he'd run out of room for garbage on the counter and table, it was stacked too high, so.. he'd opened the oven, pulled the racks out and was piling garbage up on them, instead. Guess what the only place that didn't have garbage was... The pristine garbage can. The living room floor was covered in his dirty laundry. He had run out of clean dishes and resorted to using Tupperware lids as plates, with the dirty dishes covering the entire counter by the sink or stacked in his room. Speaking of, I caught a glance inside his room. The smell was worst in there. I could tell there was food in there from the time I left... Didn't try to take a step inside, obviously, not that there was a place to step. Keep in mind, this is AFTER the aunt had visited and demanded he cleaned up. She'd seen it this way, blew her top, and he still didn't give a crap. I, on the other hand, panicked. Call it ingrained at this point, but I started frantically cleaning. It was only my bf who stopped me. Had to actually grab my hands and hug me to get me to stop, with me hyperventilating and close to a panic attack. We got my things and got the hell out of there. But not before I noticed my brother seemed upset that I hadn't cleaned up while I was there.

Brother's living back with our parents and has trashed his room there. He's still pissy at me for calling him out on the way he treated me, and thinks I'm still required to be nice to him because mom says I should... and that he did absolutely nothing wrong with the way he behaved. He's also still holding a grudge against my hubby for him having the utter gall to tell him to be an adult and clean up after himself. Mom still denies it was bad (even though she's dealing with it now) or that I have anything residual from that time, despite the fact I told her that I get panicky and shaky when the place I'm living, now, gets even slightly untidy.

For me, I'm happier than I've ever been. I'm essentially no contact with my brother and limited contact with my mom. Just got married. Living with someone who loves me and actually helps with housework, even without being asked! Still dealing with the trauma of living in a place that felt THAT stressful and unsafe, but working on it. Not holding out much hope of brother realizing how entitled he was / is, but eh. He's not worth the time thinking about him.

#not a meme #long post #long post for ts

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someguynamedstevewrites · 5 years ago

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My Roommate is an Apparition: WHAT A HORRIBLE NIGHT TO HAVE A DAD - Part 1

Based on characters created by @reddpenn

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It was Saturday afternoon and Lily was dancing around in a baggy shirt, baggy sweatpants, socks, and jamming out to Michael Jackson’s Thriller; blasting it out from her computer’s speakers. She had been vacuuming the floor, washing dishes, gathering trash, and doing other reasonable adult chores with a spring in her step. Lily was feeling fantastic and even if someone told her that her car had been towed and had a $300 fine, she wouldn’t have cared and continue to dance.

She was, to put it bluntly: hyped.

Something she had been looking forward to for a very long time was coming and Lily could not contain her glee. On the wall, her calendar had a big red circle around March 7th: the upcoming Thursday. In the pantry were a wide variety of snacks, munchies, treats, and goodies (some of them were leftover from the Pink Panther marathon a few weeks back, but were never opened, so they were still good). Visions of possible ways to decorate the apartment to celebrate floated through her head as her heart beat with excitement. To most others, this Thursday wasn’t anything particularly special, but In about six days...

...Castlevania Season Three was going to premiere on Netflix.

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As Lily danced while she worked, a pair of eyes were watching from the walls. Lily knew they were there, but didn’t mind, since she knew those eyes belonged to her apparition roommate. Their name was “Tulpa” (since that’s what they said it was when Lily asked) and recently, Lily had begun addressing them by name as opposed to simply “Roommate” or “Roomie”.

“Hey Tulpa!” Lily called out to the pair of eyeballs embedded into the wall, “Hope you don’t mind the music!”

Materializing from the wall, the nose-less, ear-less, long haired, spiky-toothed being moved closer and stared at their roommate doing the “Boogie of Unreachable Back Itch” with a puzzled look on their face. The apparition couldn’t remember the last time they ever saw Lily look this happy. Usually, she wasn’t nearly this energetic on her days off when doing chores, so something good must have happened.

“Why... are you... dancing?” Tulpa asked quietly in their trademark raspy voice. Unfortunately, they were too quiet since Lily didn’t hear a word they said over the music coming from the computer.

“Lily...” her roommate called out slightly louder, “Why... are you... dancing!?”

Once again, Lily couldn’t hear a thing and her ghostly roommate was starting to get annoyed. They needed to do something to get her attention, and in a way that didn’t disturb the neighbors, frighten Lily, or result in something breaking. (The two of them had a very long chat about it after “The Pink-ening” back in February.) Eyeing Lily’s computer, Tulpa got an idea and hovered over to it.

One quick YouTube search was all it took to change the music to something Tulpa was more... familiar with.

“IN THE HEART OF TRANSYLVANIA!

IN THE VAMPIRE HALL OF FAME, YEAH!

THERE’S NOT A VAMPIRE ZANIER THAN

DUCKULAAAAAAA!!!”

*click*

————————————-

Lily stopped the music and looked at Tulpa with a half-smile on her face. “You rang?” she said jokingly.

“Why... are you... dancing?” asked Tulpa.

Lily chuckled to herself, “I’m glad you asked!” she said joyfully, “One of my favorite shows has a new season premiering this Thursday! Castlevania!”

“Castle... vania?” Tulpa asked inquisitively. Despite being an apparition with no physical organs or body parts, they did have a memory, and something about that name seemed familiar. Almost reflexively, Tulpa said, “Simon... Belmont?”

Lily raised an eyebrow and looked at her surprisingly knowledgeable roommate. “You know about Simon Belmont!?”

“Mega... Man...” Tulpa continued, “Kid... Icarus...”

Lily was going to ask what Tulpa was talking about when her phone began to ring. Walking over, she picked up her smartphone and answered knowing exactly who it was on the other end. From the phone came a baritone voice that could best be described as “Overly Hammy”.

“YOOOOUUUUU HAVE MET WITH A TERRIBLE FAAAATE! A GREAT CUUUUUUURSE HAS BEEN PUT UPON YOOOOOUUUUU! OOOOOooooooooooo!”

“Hi Dad,” Lily answered with a smile.

“Hey sweetie!” came a cheerful voice over the phone, “Looking forward to this Thursday!?”

“You bet I am!” beamed Lily, “Did you hear they cast Bill Nighy to play Saint Germain!?”

“I did!” her father beamed back.

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As father and daughter chit-chatted on the phone, Tulpa looked over Lily’s shoulder with a slight look of envy. They could see how happy Lily was on the phone talking with her family. Tulpa, however, hadn’t used a phone in a very long time, and they were kind of amazed at how far phones had come. Any phone that let someone watch cartoons on it was the best phone ever in their book. Deep down, they wished they had one of their own. The apparition gave a breathless, wistful sigh as it watched Lily talk, but then Lily’s face was suddenly no longer smiling.

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“What do you mean THIS weekend?” she asked over the phone.

“Well I did say I was coming over the first weekend of March, didn’t I?”

“Yeah! March 7th and 8th, right!?” Lily asked starting to feel a little panicked now.

“Noooo...” her Dad trailed off, “I was talking about this weekend.”

“Dad! This is not the first weekend of March! It’s the last weekend of February!” Lily said with exasperation,

“Tomorrow’s March 1st, and a Sunday, right?” her Dad pleaded his case.

“Yeah! But the first weekend of any month usually means the first FULL weekend of any month! It doesn’t count if it’s half-and-half!” Lily stated as a sinking feeling began to form in her gut.

She could hear her Dad shrug over the phone, “Oh well, my mistake then.”

“YEAH!” said Lily, “I don’t even have the place cleaned up yet. I’m not ready to have company over!” Her roommate noticed that Lily was looking at them when they said that.

“Honey, you know I don’t care if the place is cleaned up or not,” her father said.

“I DO!” Lily almost shouted.

Despite her protesting, the apartment was actually looking good that Saturday. The vacuuming was finished, dishes were being washed in the dishwasher, trash had been taken out, the display cases for her rock collection had been dusted off, and the apartment was, for all intents and purposes, presentable. The real problem was that Lily hadn’t gone over her Dad’s visit with Tulpa yet to make sure they understood how to behave themselves.

“Look,” Lily began to beg, “Could you just stop by and visit next weekend? It’d work a lot better for me.”

“Yyyyyyeeeaaahhhh...” her Dad said while trailing off, “...about that...” As soon as he finished saying the word “about”, Lily began to feel a little nauseous as she whipped around to look at the front door. Beads of sweat were starting to form on her forehead as the dreaded noise she feared most came from her front door.

*KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK*

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Lily practically dropped the phone as her pupils shrank and panic began to set in. She turned to her roommate, and tried to grab their hand. Unfortunately, given Tulpa’s natural state of transparency, Lily’s hand went right through theirs. Realizing that wasn’t going to work, Lily began to frantically move her arms and make gestures to get Tulpa to hide.

Tulpa, meanwhile, wasn’t entirely sure what was going on, but picked up on Lily’s gestures and went into one of the bedrooms. Lily then closed the door and walked quickly over to the front door. She opened it up, and just as she suspected, there was her Dad standing right outside with his phone up to his ear.

“Hey, Hey, Hey!” he said with a smile, “Guess who’s here!”

Lily had to use every muscle she had to contort her face into a forced smile, “D-D-Dad! Hi!” There was no mistake that it was him. There were very few people who would consider a T-shirt that had an 8-bit pixel sprite with the caption “Uncle Vlad’s Wall Chicken” on it as “casual going out” clothes. It was a Christmas gift she had gotten him a few months earlier, and while she was glad to know it fit him okay, seeing him out and about in it was somehow incredibly embarrassing.

“May I come in?” he asked politely.

“Uhhhhh...” Lily stammered, “C-Could you give me a second. I just, ummm...” she trailed off while trying to think of an excuse, “...need to pick up some laundry off the floor. Yeah. Don’t want you stepping on any... underwear or socks or anything!” Lily’s laundry had already been cleaned, folded, and put away, including the towels in the linen closet, but her Dad didn’t know that, and she was banking on it.

“Sure!” her Dad agreed, “I did kind of drop in unannounced.”

“THANKS DAD!” Lily again almost hollered as she had to hold herself back from slamming the door when she closed it. She immediately ran to the room where Tulpa was and looked her square in the eyes. “Okay,” she began, “I know this is sudden, but my DAD is here! I’m going to need you to be on your BEST behavior while he’s here, okay?”

Tulpa blinked and looked at Lily with their usual vacant expression on their face. “...why?”

“BECAUSE... Because...” Lily trailed off as she tried to think of a good reason. Tulpa couldn’t be seen by anyone other than her, and she wasn’t entirely sure if other people could hear Tulpa either. But her ethereal roommate was somehow able to make the entire apartment pink last month all the way down to the toilet paper, and could hold and carry things in their ghost-like hands. “...I don’t want to scare him off!” was the best excuse Lily could think of off the top of her head.

Tulpa nodded, “...okay...” she said. Lily detected a hint of them sounding disappointed, but she’d find a way to make it up to them later.

“I’ll make it up to you later!”

[See? Told yah!]

Tulpa wasn’t entirely sure why Lily was acting so strange all of a sudden. She was acting as though her Dad would be able to see them even though they both knew that wasn’t possible. Despite this, Lily still seemed uncomfortable with the whole situation, and not wanting to trouble their friend, Tulpa nodded.

Lily followed up with a quick, “Thank you!” before turning around to dash to the front door.

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Opening the door again, Lily gestured to her father to come on in, “Make yourself at home!” she said like she knew full well just how cliche it was to say.

“Don’t mind if I do,” her Dad said with a smile as he walked in. It was then that Lily noticed the backpack he had on. She recognized it as the “Electronics” backpack her Dad carried whenever he was taking a laptop or any other electronic device with him to places. He headed straight to the living room, took his backpack off and began fishing around inside of it.

Lily gulped, “Did you bring-?” she began to ask before her Dad pulled out a family treasure from inside the backpack.

“Indeed I did!” he said proudly as he cut her off. In his hands was one of his most prized possessions:

A Nintendo Entertainment System.

It was the same NES that he got back when he was fourteen years old in 1986. He had been a video game fan ever since the early days of Atari and took meticulous care of his game systems to make sure they lasted and functioned for decades to come. Even in his middle-ages at forty-eight years old, he still had the same passion for video games as he did when he was a kid.

Only one question was on Lily’s mind which she had no trouble verbalizing: “Why?!”

Her Dad grinned a smug grin as he reached into the backpack and pulled out a small, black, plastic sleeve that contained an NES cartridge in it. It wasn’t just any NES cartridge either; it was Castlevania III: Dracula’s Curse.

Seeing that cartridge gave Lily mixed feelings. She could remember the times growing up with her father when he would insist that she sit down and play video games with him. But it often wasn’t so much to play them as it was to lecture her about them. He would regularly go on and on about the history of video games, how significant they were to modern society and culture, nifty bits of trivia, and for Lily, NOTHING took away the fun from video games more so than trying to make them an educational experience. In the back of her head, she knew they weren’t all like that; she still had many good memories playing games with her father (and playing the same games her father was lecturing about whenever he WASN’T lecturing), but the look in his eyes told her that this was going to be another one of his signature talks.

“Dad,” Lily pleaded, “No. No, please! Can’t we just, I dunno, watch Castlevania on Netflix? Maybe check out the Japanese dub or something?” She knew exactly what was about to happen. He was going to connect the NES to her TV, put Castlevania III in, and then play it while talking about how the game eventually became the show she adored with voice acting by Richard Armitage and Graham McTavish. All this to “prepare” for the season premiere in a few days.

Unfortunately for Lily, her father shook his head and said, “Now I didn’t spend my high school years breaking down blocks for wall meat and whipping away Medusa Heads for nothing. C’mon! Don’t you want to see your old man defeat Dracula?”

The answer to that was an emphatic “NO!” from Lily, but she wasn’t about to hurt her Dad’s feelings. While it wasn’t how she planned to spend her Saturday, she figured that as soon as he got it out of his system, the sooner he could head back home. Plus, talkative as he was, he was still rather decent at playing difficult video games even at forty-eight years old. As long as everything went well, he ought to be able to finish the game in about an hour; two hours tops.

————————————-

Meanwhile, a pair of eyes was watching from the bedroom door (as in, within the bedroom door) as Lily’s Dad effortlessly hooked up the NES to the TV. Tulpa began to remember some of the people that used to live here also had video game systems like the one Lily’s Dad was hooking up. They were pretty interesting, and Tulpa was somewhat curious about them even if they weren’t cartoons. Eager to see more of what was going on, they poked their head out more and more from the door.

Lily sighed as her Dad continued to fiddle with the cables behind the TV, and turned around in time to see Tulpa who was now poking their head out in full view. Before Lily could say or do anything...

“AAUUGGHH!!”

Lily spun back around and looked at her father who looked like he had seen a ghost...

...but he was actually looking at the jumbled mess of pixels on the TV screen. “Aww man,” he groaned, “I thought I cleaned this already!” Turning to his daughter, he asked, “Hey can you reach into my backpack and grab the Q-Tips and alcohol?”

Sure enough, there was a bottle of Isopropyl alcohol and Q-Tips in the backpack, and Lily deftly fished them out and gave them to her man-child of a father. Or was the correct term “Child-Man”? Lily wasn’t quite sure but pushed that thought to the side as she said to him, “Hey, I’m gonna use the bathroom real quick! B.R.B.!”

“Okie dokie,” her Dad said as he happily cleaned the game cartridge pins. He always found something so cathartic about cleaning cartridges and getting them to work. It was almost zen-like.

Of course, Lily did not go to the bathroom. Instead, she walked right over to Tulpa’s levitating elongated neck and head, opened the door they were peeking out from (which pulled their head out of the door), and marched in with a mixture of disapproval, frustration, and worry on their face. “What are you DOING!?” she demanded with her teeth clenched and her voice lowered.

“Want to... see,” Tulpa said bashfully. Lily noticed that they weren’t looking her in the eyes.

“It’s just my DAD and his games!” pleaded Lily.

“I’d like... to meet... him,” said the curious ghost.

Lily turned to look at the door, then back to Tulpa, and raised her thumb like a hitchhiker to point to the door behind her. “Him!?” Lily said incredulously, “What for!? He can’t even see or hear you anyway!”

It was true that Tulpa could not be seen by anyone other than Lily, and Tulpa knew that all too well. Not a single living soul was able to see or truly hear them any time before now. Lily was the exception and neither of them had any idea why. But, the apparition thought to itself, the person out in the living room was Lily’s father. What if...

“AH HA!” Lily practically jumped from her father’s victorious cheer, “I GOT IT!” he crowed from the living room. Lily did a small face palm as the shout gave her flashbacks to when she was eight-years old and her Dad would practically scream at the top of his lungs every time he died playing Ninja Gaiden after Lily had gone to sleep. Few things were more terrifying than being woken up out of a deep dream by the shrill shrieks of your own father.

Lily turned to Tulpa and made a shushing gesture, “If you’re gonna watch, just... make sure not to touch anything so he won’t know someone’s there, okay!?”

Tulpa nodded, somewhat solemnly, as Lily stepped out to join her Dad in the living room. Inside the room Tulpa was in, there was a large mirror attached to a vanity table. The inquisitive incorporeal individual looked at its reflection in the mirror. They could see their matted hair and large googly eyes, as well as lack of facial features, and for the first time in its existence, began to think about its appearance.

No one before could see them, so what they looked like never really mattered. Lily was the first person who could see Tulpa, and she accepted them for just the way they were. That was something they really liked about Lily. At the same time though, they never thought about how they wanted others to see them if they could see them.

Tulpa thought about how Lily included them in the things she did, and how much they enjoyed spending time with Lily. Even if they weren’t watching cartoons, the time they shared was always fun and enjoyable. They wanted to get to know Lily better, and what better way than by getting to meet her Dad? Wouldn’t it be better if they were all together?

Sure he probably wouldn’t be able to see them, but...

...maybe he could?

And if he could, what would he think of them?

What would Tulpa want them to think of them?

Continuing to stare at themselves in the mirror, Tulpa made a decision. It was going to take all of their concentration, but “nothing ventured, nothing gained.” It began by taking a very, very, very deep breath. They sucked in as much air as they could, practically inflating themselves like a balloon.

Once they had inhaled as much as they could, they held their mouth shut and tried to squeeze the air out using whatever specters had for muscles. The human equivalent would have been if someone were to hold their breath, pinch their nose, and try to get their ears to pop. A small popping noise could be heard in the room, as Tulpa succeeded in popping out some ears.

————————————-

Back in the living room, Lily was resting her arm on the armrest of the couch, with face resting in the palm of her hand, and looking extremely bored. Her Dad was already sitting on the opposite end of the couch, navigating Trevor Belmont through Stage 1 after showing off how the game’s prologue fit the Netflix show’s narrative. Lily was, naturally, not paying attention to any of it as her mind was somewhere else completely.

“What am I doing?” she thought to herself, “Why does it matter if Tulpa’s out here or not? I mean, it’s not like Dad can see them or anything.” As she thought to herself, deep down she came to realize what her problem was. It wasn’t about her Dad meeting Tulpa, it was about Tulpa meeting her Dad!

Despite him being good natured and an affable person, he was still her Dad, and Dads by definition tended to be embarrassing as Hell! He had actually researched Dad jokes and has kept an arsenal of them up his sleeves ever since Lily could remember. He rarely ever acted like an average 48-year old man in public, and some times, Lily would feel ashamed that between the two of them, she would be considered the adult.

(During the Christmas season, he saw all the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 1-Up Arcade Cabinets on display in Wal-Mart and would always turn them on and set the volume to maximum! According to him, he was trying to recreate the “arcade atmosphere” of his youth.)

But despite the occasional embarrassment, he was still her Dad, and she wouldn’t trade him for any other Dad in the world. He was always open minded, and whenever he didn’t understand something, he made an effort to try and understand. Like that time he asked her to show him her rock collection and tell him about all the different kinds she had and what made them so unique. He was always a cool Dad like that.

He raised her the best that he could and helped her with her homework. He drove her to places she wanted to go when she was little, and took her to theme parks, the zoo, science centers, museums... he was always actively involved in her upbringing and that meant a lot to Lily.

The sound of a door opening and closing could be heard from the hallway.

“I’m overreacting, aren’t I?” she thought to herself. “I should have just asked Tulpa to sit down and watch him play. I mean, misery loves company, right? And plus he-“

It was at that moment that Lily’s eyes began to widen as she realized she had just heard the sound of a door opening and closing come from the hallway. Her Dad turned around at the noise and Lily whipped herself around at breakneck speed. She nearly choked on her own spit at what she saw.

It was Tulpa.

It was definitely Tulpa...

...But they looked human!

They had a nose, two ears, and opaque, pale skin. Their hair still looked matted and unwashed, their eyes were still large, and their teeth still looked sharp even though they were a bit more rounded. They were wearing a turtleneck blouse and a long skirt that went all the way down to their ankles. On their feet were white socks which were probably there since Tulpa hadn’t really gotten the hang of manifesting realistic feet yet. And they were definitely female (or going for the feminine look).

They looked kind of like that one really tall girl from that really popular anime everyone kept talking about, “Hands Off My Aerosol Can” or something like that.

There was a brief moment of silence in the room that felt like it stretched on for an eternity (even though it only lasted a fraction of a second). Lily’s Dad was looking right at them, or at least, in their direction. Lily could tell Tulpa had “dressed up” to meet her father, but doubted it would have mattered since there was no way he could-

“Hi there! You must be Lily’s roommate!” greeted Lily’s Dad.

...To Be Continued...

#my roommate is an apparition #Tulpa #reddpenn #Castlevania #fanfiction

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platypanthewriter · 4 years ago

Text

Yuletide fic 4/5

Part One/Two/Three/Four/Five Read them as I post here, or all at once in Ao3 under peterqpan

Steve found the sleigh bells, took them in the garage, and tied them all into a big hank they could shake together, and then he drug Billy outside, suggesting they

take a look at where to tie it,

and run a cord out the window to jangle in the dead of night.

Billy yanked him around the corner of the house, and shoved him into a bush tall enough to hide them, sliding both hands up the back of Steve’s sweater, and kissing his open mouth as he yelped.

“Mmng,” Steve mumbled, relaxing in his arms. “Hi,” he whispered, bright-eyed, and kissed Billy’s nose with lips already chilly from the cold. Billy groaned softly, shoving Steve deeper in the bush with his weight, nuzzling his face into his boyfriend’s cold throat, and mouthing up the vein in the side of Steve’s neck to feel him squirm, biting back a groan.

“Hi,” Billy told him, and Steve snorted, pulling him in tighter.

“Hey,” Steve whispered, melting into him, and then jerking as the branches of the bush dug into his back. Snow showered them, and they both shut their eyes, huddling together.

“Steve Harrington,” Billy said into the kiss-tender skin under his boyfriend’s jaw, “—you know Santa’s not real, right?”

“Shut up,” Steve laughed, with a shiver.

“If Santa was real,” Billy told him, pausing to brush snow out of Steve’s hair, and slide Steve’s earlobe through his teeth, “—you wouldn’t have been so lonely at Christmas, right?”

“...mmmn,” Steve whispered, his arms tightening around Billy’s neck and shoulders.

“Santa would’ve been smart enough to pack one of us up, right? Put you under my tree,” Billy told him, smiling as Steve pulled away enough to kiss him, urgent and hot. Billy could feel Steve’s dick, half-hard through his jeans even in the freezing darkness.

Steve was trembling a little, probably with laughter, smiling so hard their teeth kept catching on each other’s lips. “He’d have brought you here,” Steve whispered, brushing snow off Billy’s shoulders, and sliding his hand up the back of Billy’s head to hold him closer. “Wrap you up under my tree,” he whispered against Billy’s lips, between kisses, his breath warm, and his lips soft. “Every year I’d have my friend again. Around midnight I’d be trying to marry you so you wouldn’t vanish again.”

“Oh shit, no,” Billy shook his head, humming as Steve’s fingers raked through his hair, and up between his shoulder blades. “No,” he said, grinning, “—keep me—”

“Parents might not’ve noticed they had two kids all of a sudden,” Steve suggested, and Billy laughed harder, nodding.

“Keep me in the closet, if they ask.”

Steve snorted a laugh. “Nah, can’t hold your hand in the closet.”

Billy felt like his bones were gonna creak, as tightly as Steve was holding him, but it felt so good he leaned into it, arching his body to get even closer. “Can’t fuck me in the closet,” he whispered, and Steve moaned quietly, muffling it against Billy’s neck.

“Santa needs to bring me some privacy,” Steve muttered, bucking his hips, and Billy laughed. “Fucking...soundproofing,” Steve huffed. “Locking door.”

“They’ll probably leave tomorrow,” Billy told him. “We got tomorrow night. Christmas night.”

Steve sighed, and Billy felt himself smiling again. “...y’know your tree’ll be up for New Years, you could—”

“Invite them again,” Steve whispered, jerking back to stare in Billy’s face. “You’re a genius.”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Billy nodded, raising his eyebrows. “That’s my secret, yep.”

“It’s not that much of a secret,” Steve said indignantly, and Billy leaned into him.

“Gimme another minute,” he whispered. “Then we can do your weird Santa shit.”

“Always,” said Steve, pressing their foreheads together, and then their cheeks, like they were dancing. Billy let his eyes close, taking deep breaths of snow, and Steve’s laundry soap, and his sweaty fir-tree smell from wrestling the tree inside over his usual aftershave.

“Gonna unwrap you under the tree tomorrow night,” Billy whispered, and felt Steve grin.

“See, look,” Steve whispered excitedly, “—we put the bells on a branch of one close to the house, and we hang the chain on the part that hangs over the roof, and then when we yank it hard from the window—” he waggled the tree, and covered them in snow, and Billy yelled incoherently, but Steve just beamed in the light of the side windows, brushing snow out of Billy’s curls. “—they hear Santa.”

“We can do it from a window, dipshit,” Billy hissed. “Without a ladder. Look, Hopper or somebody can take them upstairs, and jangle the bells or whatever, and throw the chains, and you and I do stockings and presents— I’m not getting up a ladder in this weather, we’ll die—”

Steve kissed him, grinning. “Love you,” he whispered back, tugging him back around the house into the garage, and Billy stared at him as the door closed behind him.

“...you can’t just...every time I’m pissed at you,” he growled, and Steve glanced around and leaned in to kiss him, quick, but softly, and whispered it again.

“Fuck you,” Billy snarled, his face flaming, his fingers gripping Steve’s sweater, and having to let go, in case one of Steve’s damn houseguests walked in the garage . “I’m gonna eat a boyfriend cookie,” he threatened. “I’m gonna snap their heads and feet off—” and Steve stepped back, laughing.

“No, no, leave ‘em, leave ‘em. I’ll get you a cookie.” Steve trotted off to get one, while Billy stuck car chains in trash bags,and tried to get his breathing—and his pounding heart, and his dick— under control. Steve came back with a heart cookie with a dick drawn on it, and said “Probably wanna eat that fast,” like he hadn’t just drawn a cock and balls on a heart cookie in front of five children, God, and Mrs. Henderson.

Billy shoved it in his mouth.

“That’s the appetite for dick I like to see,” Steve whispered, and Billy choked, coughing crumbs as Steve laughed so hard he wheezed for air.

“Bastard,” Billy hissed, coughing, just as the door opened, and Jonathan stuck his head in. “Hey,” he said, frowning at Billy, dying choking on Steve’s cock-cookie, and Steve rubbing his back.

“Uh,” said Jonathan. “Is, um, is the car...working?”

“Oh, yeah,” Steve told him, grinning. “It’ll start now. Thought it might be good to get it vacuumed out. Cleaned up. I changed the oil, too.”

“Oh!” Jonathan blinked, turning to look it over as his shoulders relaxed. “Oh. Yeah, that’s—that’s good. Will and I can do that. I’ll get him. Um.”

Billy coughed again, wiping his eyes, and Steve grinned at Jonathan. “He’s just choking on my...cookie.”

“Jesus goddamn christ,” Billy hissed, hitting at him, but Steve dodged, spinning away.

“Uh,” said Jonathan, looking even more awkward, if possible. “My—my mom said, um.”

Steve’s jaw clenched, even though he was smiling, and Billy cleared his throat. “What’s she need?” Billy asked, and Jonathan blinked again, then smiled.

“Uh, no, not that. It’s not—she said if I…” he winced, biting his lip. “If I...got some pictures of—of both of you, you might—you might...want...that.” He grimaced at the floor. “I wouldn’t take them to the photo lab! They’d be—nobody would see them.”

“...the fuck are you saying,” Billy whispered, registering that he’d stepped in front of Steve.

“You were, uh, you were kissing in front of the tree,” Jonathan glanced up, wincing. “Mom thought you might...want a picture. I just—” he blew air through his cheeks, watching Steve. “I know I was shitty about Nancy, I wouldn’t—I’ll throw out the film, if you want. I just—I wanted to ask.” He sighed. “This time.”

Billy was still stuck on the idea of a photo of him kissing a man, but Steve spoke.

“You ever apologize to her for that?”

“Y-yeah,” Jonathan nodded. “Yeah, yes, she—she was mad. She, um. She should’ve been. She—” he cut off, blushing hard, and Steve wrinkled his nose. “I made it up to her,” he mumbled, smiling, and Billy shuddered as Jonathan kept talking. “But I don’t want to...I don’t want to be...shitty. D’you want some pictures? I’ll wait ‘til I know it’s safe. Do it at home, develop them, I mean. Lock my door.”

“...y’know what, yeah,” Steve said, and Billy stared at him. Steve winced, biting his lip. “If—if that’s okay,” he said to Billy. “I—I want to...have...something? Not if you don’t want to.”

Billy had been ready to feed Jonathan Byers his camera, but Steve looked...wistful, and like he knew what Billy wanted to say. Billy considered. “Yeah,” he said hoarsely. “Sure. Make a copy. Give him the negative, though.”

Steve laughed disbelievingly, reached out to Billy, and then yanked his hand back, and Jonathan hid his face.

“Holy crap,” he groaned. “Okay. I’ll uh, if I see...anything, I’ll take some more. I’ll be careful, though. I’m—I’m gonna go get Will, do what...do whatever you need to do.”

Billy was still tempted to hit him a few times, but Steve wrapped his arms around him from behind, warm and padded from the sweater, smelling like Steve, and laughing against Billy’s neck.

“Oh my god,” he whispered. “Fuck. We can—we can have Christmas photos, babe—can you—can you imagine—”

Billy could definitely imagine himself, awkwardly swearing at his boyfriend, and probably red as a tomato, and sighed. “Sure,” he said, grabbing Steve’s head over his shoulder, and holding it closer to kiss.

“Mmmn,” Steve laughed into his hair, his voice muffled.

They walked out to find Lucas leaving, resentfully stomping around, and his sister sighing at the sky. “I’ll come over tomorrow,” he told Max, who nodded, biting her lips.

“...it’s okay if they won’t let you,” she said, shrugging, hugging herself, and frowning intensely at his shoes.

“You should come get him,” said his little sister. “Bring him back. My mom thought you were staying. She made so much pie.”

“I can eat pie,” said Max, her mouth quirking, and Lucas’ shoulders relaxed a little, watching her.

“You can come over early as you want,” he said, and his little sister raised her eyebrows, snorting.

“Maybe not too early,” Max said, smiling a little, and he held a fist out to her. She bumped his knuckles with hers, and watched them walk to the road before closing the door. Steve squeezed Billy’s arm, and he realized he was just standing there watching Max as the doorbell rang, and Max yanked the door open with a laugh—but it wasn’t Lucas, it was Susan, her mom.

Susan Hargrove was clutching what looked like a lidded pan of brownies and a bowl of salad with white knuckles, and her gaze flicked from her daughter, to Billy, and back. She bit her lips together, swallowing. “I—I brought the presents,” she said, jerking her head over her shoulder, “—but um, you said Steve and Billy were cooking, I thought they might want—”

She trailed off as Joyce and Hopper wandered out, and Claudia Henderson, and Will. Susan took a slow breath, and swallowed hard. “Oh,” she whispered, then forced a laugh. “Oh, not—you’re not alone, of course, why would—why would—” she shoved the pan at Max and spun to walk back out the door, and Max shoved them at Billy and chased after her, watching her mom try to unlock the car with shaking hands.

“You want her here?” Steve asked, and Billy set his jaw, thinking about the times Neil had held his head against the wall, speaking in that reasonable, low tone that always made Billy feel crazy, for not measuring up, and Susan, standing there. He ran his tongue over his teeth, thinking. “You can say no,” Steve whispered, putting an arm around his shoulder, and Billy sighed, and shrugged.

“Don’t care,” he said, feeling exponentially more tired than he had ten minutes before.

“Mom,” Max was saying. “Mom. Mom.”

“Here are your stockings,” Susan said, wiping her nose. “And here are—”

“Mom!” Max yelled, grabbing her mom’s shoulder, and Susan flinched back with a little yelp. “Mom! Do—do you want to stay,” she asked, breathing a little heavily like it’d been an effort to ask. “Do you want to come in?” she asked again, her hand firm on her mother’s arm. “Do you want to stay?”

“That doesn’t seem very polite,” Susan said, her voice high and wobbly enough to carry, and Steve leaned out, cupping his hands around his face to yell.

“Plenty of room,” he called. “Might have to share a bed with Mrs. Henderson. Come on in!”

She jumped, staring back at them, and her eyes fell on Billy. She bit her lips together, watching him, and he wondered, bitterly, whether she was too fucking scared of her stepson to notice Max’s shiny wet eyes. Maybe I should go just fucking...hide in the garage, he thought, gritting his teeth. Keep them safe from Billy Hargrove—

“That okay, Billy?” Susan asked shakily, and he narrowed his eyes at her.

“Yes!” Max yelled, waving her arm, but Susan patted her shoulder.

“Is it okay?” she asked again, looking at Billy, and he stared back, until Steve elbowed him, and he nodded.

“...there’s room,” he said, his throat a little sore and hoarse, and her shoulders relaxed.

“Okay,” she nodded, and she looked delighted, which was— confusing, and—and weird as hell, definitely, and he stood there glaring into the middle distance until Steve pushed by him to take an armload of presents, and two stockings, and Max followed with another box.

Billy turned and went back in the house, handed the food to Joyce Byers, and walked out to see Dustin, Will and El talking in front of the fire, lying on their stomachs. He veered off and stomped out the poolside door to walk along the empty pool and stand in a thicket of trees, taking shaky breaths, and wiping his cheeks. He kept his back facing the house, counting off breathing, and then heard the door open behind him. Footsteps crunched, and he was almost ready to turn around and try to act like—like a normal fucking human being—when Steve spoke.

“Hey, you alright?” he asked, coming up to slide his arm around Billy’s waist.

“Just having a smoke,” Billy whispered, his voice weirdly nasal-sounding.

“You just...don’t have any cigarettes, is all,” Steve whispered back, squeezing him closer. “You want me to tell her to go?”

“No! No,” Billy shook his head, wiping his nose. “I just—” he took another slow breath, and blew it back out. “I just thought…” I thought she thought he was right about me, Billy bit back. “It’s fine.”

“Is it?” Steve pulled him around the little patch of trees into the shade from the windows and kissed him, his hands warm and cupped around Billy’s face. “I was listening,” he whispered. “Shit, sorry. I was, I was listening, I just wanted to kiss you.”

“...okay,” Billy said, digging his fingers into handfuls of Steve’s sweater. He focused on the texture against his skin. Steve leaned their heads together, his faint shadow through the branches flickering across the snow. “Yeah,” Billy took a deep breath of outside, without the usual smoke. The cold made him cough, and he laughed, standing up again. “...I’m good. How’re you doin’? Where’s your, uh,” he sniffled, wiping his nose. “I got presents now, I guess, where the hell are your parents?”

“Ha,” Steve said, smiling a little.

“They better get their claim in, is all, I think every parent in there wants to adopt you,” Billy whispered, and Steve laughed, a little downcast. “I mean it,” Billy told him, yanking Steve closer by the sweater, and kissing him firmly. “My boy’s in high fucking demand.”

“Only by you,” Steve laughed, but it sounded genuine, so Billy didn’t argue.

“I could slide my hand down your pants,” he whispered, leaning close to breath it against Steve’s jaw.

“Shit,” Steve whispered, shivering. “Yeah, fuck.”

“Think anybody’ll walk out here?” Billy whispered back, yanking at the buttons on his boyfriend’s pants.

“Hell no,” Steve whispered, sliding his hands down Billy’s sides to his belly, and snickering as he jumped back, shuddering. “They’d freeze their nuts off, get back here.”

“You’re gonna freeze my nuts off,” Billy hissed, blowing on his fingers. “Why do you live here, there’s—there’s fucking monsters, my cock’s trying to crawl up between my lungs—”

Steve reached out and grabbed his shirt, and yanked him back in. “C’mere, babe, c’mere—”

His hands were still cold, and Billy suffered, shivering like the dashboard of an old truck, in fits and starts. “J-jesus god,” he whined, as Steve hooked two fingers over the top of his pants, and Steve started laughing into his shoulder.

“It’s too cold, babe,” he whispered, wrapping his sweatered arms around Billy’s sheer cotton clad ones.

“F-uck-k y-you,” Billy stuttered, curling his body into his boyfriend, but feeling no warmth. “I c-can t-tak-ke it.”

“Luh —brrr,” Steve said, shivering. “Love you,” he tried again, hauling him back towards the house.

“D-damn-n i-it,” Billy mumbled, and Steve put an arm around him, steadying him as he stomped up the front steps, stuttering every profane word he knew.

Steve held the door and pulled him inside, then hauled him upstairs, pushed him on the bed, and started yanking sweaters out of the closet to hold up. “Hrm,” he said, squinting over, and then attacked in the dim light from the hallway, yanking something over Billy’s head.

“Fmmrghmph!” Billy growled, and Steve sat next to him, yanking the sleeves over his numb hands, and the rest down over Billy’s belly and back. He pulled Billy close, rubbing his arms, and after his shivering subsided, Billy sighed. “Great, I’m wearing a blanket.”

“I think they’re setting up sleeping bags downstairs,” Steve said, squeezing him, and Billy squeezed him back.

“Love you,” he hissed, as revenge, but instead of going awkward and stiff, Steve buried his face in Billy’s neck, nuzzling like friendly sandpaper. “Eugh, get off,” Billy told him, squeezing him closer.

“You love me,” Steve mumbled happily, and Billy rolled his eyes. “It’s almost Christmas,” he said then, and Billy glared at the top of his head, stroking his hair.

“God, shut up,” he sighed. “I’ve said it before. You’re such a dork.”

“Merry Christmas to me,” Steve sang, his laugh hot against Billy’s collarbone. “Merry Christmas to me, Bill-y Hargrove loves meee~ee, merry Christmas to meeeee—”

“You’re fucked in the brain,” Billy sighed, leaning his head against Steve’s.

The parents-that-be sent Will up to tiptoe along the hall calling “Steve? Billy?”, and Billy sighed, smacking a last kiss to Steve’s cheek before calling “In here!”

Steve grinned from him to Will in the dim light of the hall that shone into his room. “Had to get a sweater on Billy, he was freezing to death.”

“Oh,” Will nodded, shifting his feet awkwardly. “I think they want me out of the way while they get presents out. Um. Your room’s really...plaid.”

Steve sighed.

Billy had a thought, remembering the wrapping paper in the garage, and ditched Steve to run down there. “Anybody needs to wrap, there’s paper and tape in the garage!” he shouted, dodging cooks through the kitchen and stepping into the garage. He was joined by Claudia and Joyce fairly quickly, and resisted making any orgy jokes as they both yanked tags off presents and started rummaging through the supplies he’d laid out. “Is it weird to give Steve walkie-talkies,” Claudia Henderson asked Joyce, and Billy shook his head.

“You know he’ll just give one back to Dustin anyway,” he told her, and she beamed at him and pinched his cheek.

“All I have are Will’s colored pencils,” Joyce said, and Billy grimaced.

“I think Will would like those better than Harrington would,” he said, “—maybe invite him for New Years instead,” he suggested, and she cocked her head, thinking, then squeezed his arm with a smile.

Steve poked his head in, and Billy pushed him back out. “No children in here!” he announced, but Steve fought him, hanging on to the door. “You leave!” he yelled, laughing. “I need to wrap some stuff!”

“What?! Why?” Billy asked, startled, as Steve shoved him back out. Billy ended up helping Dustin find the Swiss Miss, and watching Hopper and finally Susan duck into the garage. He ignored them, and snatched the mushroom mug away from Will. “Look at this mug,” Billy said, pointing at the long, browny-orange mushrooms. “You are not old enough to be drinking out of this mug.”

Will, Dustin, and Jonathan all blinked and then started snickering, and Max came in to see what was going on, and gagged after a glance at it. “Gross,” she hissed. “You’re all gross. They’re just mushrooms.”

“They don’t really look like mushrooms,” Will giggled, blushing.

Billy shrugged, slurping his hot chocolate, and then took the opportunity while Steve wasn’t around to crunch out to his car through the blizzard and get Steve’s presents. He stomped back in just before he froze solid, brushing snow off his horse-blanket of a sweater, and remembering what Steve had said about Santa hats covering his best feature, glaring down to see knit covering his chest and the top of his jeans.

Max took the packages as he stood there, snow melting into his hair, and waited until he kicked his shoes off to hand him his mug of hot chocolate, then wordlessly tromped into the front room and stuck Steve’s presents from Billy under the tree. Billy watched her blankly, the snow on the floor melting into his socks.

He’d gotten her a scarf and hat when he knew she wanted a skateboard repair kit, because his dad had been waiting for the receipt. Maybe Susan had actually asked, and listened. He wondered, in passing, whether Susan would keep up the traditional joke, and give him a stocking full of coal.

Billy wasn’t looking forward to his father finding out he’d blown all his Christmas-shopping money on Steve, and not presents for he and Susan, but for the moment, it was easy to relax into the warmth of the house, and the sweetness of the hot chocolate. Somebody had stuck a candy cane in it—Billy suspected Mrs. Henderson, who was hanging more of them on the tree when he wandered in to bake himself dry in front of the woodstove.

El and Max were zipping a sleeping bag together right under the tree, and Billy scooted them a little to the side and did the same, sighing.

“You and Steve gonna sleep next to us?” asked Max, raising her eyebrows, and Billy felt himself redden, mouthing Santa at her. She squinted at him, and he mouthed it again, feeling like a moron. El was crawling around, humming along to Frosty— eugh— so he spelled it out with his finger on the sleeping bag, slowly, in caps. S-A-N-T-A P-R-E-S-E-N-T-S.

Max snorted. “Yeah, sure.”

Billy stuck his tongue out at her, and wandered back to poke his head in the garage—where he found Susan, filling two stockings with candy and mandarin oranges. She went perfectly still, lifting her chin like he was about to attack, and he nearly pulled the door shut again, but she stuffed the stockings behind her, and he laughed, stepping inside, and pulling the door shut behind him.

“What, you afraid I’ll know there’s no Santa?” he asked, baring his teeth in a smile, and she swallowed, glancing down at her hands. “Don’t worry, I figured it out a long time ago, when my Christmas present was a new mom who didn’t want—”

“They’re still supposed to be a surprise,” she said, taking a shaky breath. “They—they’re a surprise, you aren’t supposed to see them.”

Billy paused. “...one of those is for me? What, you put all the coal at the bottom this time, as a surprise? ‘Billy, guess what, you weren’t a waste of space this year, no wait, haha! You were!’”

“There’s no coal in these stockings,” she said, clenching her jaw. “I have never put coal in your stockings. I would—I would never—it’s not funny.”

It was cold in the garage, Billy thought, his mind wandering the way it did whenever the subject turned to whether he was worth anything. His socks were wet, in places, and he could hear Joyce Byers singing a loud, off-key rendition of Rockin’ Around The Christmas Tree through the door to the kitchen. He clasped both hands around his mug of hot chocolate, and the half-melted candy cane stuck to his thumb.

“No coal,” Susan said softly, and Billy forced a laugh.

“Stupid, right, it’s not like I care if Santa thinks I’m a good little boy.” Susan bit her lip, hunching her shoulders, and Billy laughed, turning back to the kitchen.

“Wait! Thank you,” she said, and he turned back to frown at her. “I—I know you wanted Christmas with your friend,” she said, laughing nervously. “I—thank you for having us. Me.”

“...oh,” he laughed. “I’m just your gateway to Max, right?”

“No!” she said, looking like she was gonna cry, and Billy kind of enjoyed it, thinking of all the times she’d just watched as her husband slammed him around the house. Guess I do deserve the coal, he thought, smiling, though it wasn’t really funny. “No,” she said again. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I—I’m glad you’ve found a-a way out. And you—you’ll graduate soon. You can get a job.”

“What,” he said, squeezing his mushroom mug harder, to feel the edges of the ceramic dig into his hands.

“Once—” she started, then stopped, and he recognized the effort to keep sobs silent. “Once you’re safe,” she forced out, “—I can get us away,” she said, her eyes spilling over with tears. “I—I know you—you mustn’t say anything, Billy, please. D-don’t say anything to him, I know you—I know you want him to—to be proud of you, but please don’t—”

“I-I wouldn’t,” he whispered back, dropping down to sit on the step to the kitchen, because suddenly his knees felt weak.

She took a shuddering breath, nodding. “Did you spend the money Neil gave you on Steve?”

Billy set his jaw. “Yeah.”

“I saved some receipts you can give him,” she said. “They’re wrapped, you can write the tags,” and Billy felt weirdly warm, wondering what else she’d done to protect him.

“I won’t tell him you’re leaving him,” he promised, leaning his head in his arms. “God. Fuck. Why didn’t you…” he trailed off, sighing, and remembering when he’d have been only too proud to have been a good little boy, and run to his father to snitch. “...did you get Max a skateboard kit?” he asked, and heard Susan’s movements stop.

“...Neil said he would,” she said, slowly.

“...bet he didn’t,” Billy said, feeling his heart pound at the disloyalty, in front of, he’d thought, his father’s most steadfast supporter.

“I bet he didn’t,” she agreed, sighing, and Billy pushed himself to his feet.

“I’ll write her a note. Take her next week,” he said, cautiously, and Susan choked out a laugh, sniffling.

“You definitely don’t deserve coal.”

By the time Billy left the garage, he was determined not to let any adults get him alone ever again. His heart couldn’t take it, he thought, edging around Mrs. Henderson in case she drug him into the pantry to have a heart-to-heart.

Steve was sitting on their zipped-together sleeping bags, beaming up at the enormous tree, and Billy made for him, only to be waylaid by Hopper, who reached out, prodded his bicep, and stepped back, hands spread.

“Steve! Get over here,” he called, and Steve looked up and saw him and Billy, and trotted over, ridiculous smile wide. Billy added to his count of missed kiss opportunities, determined to claim his rightful property, just as Hopper yanked them into a football huddle by the shoulders. “You boys ready to go?” he asked, waving Jonathan over.

“Ready to sleep, maybe,” Billy muttered, hoping his Christmas eve wasn’t about to get any more exciting.

“As soon as they’re asleep, hang the stockings and put the presents out,” Hopper hissed, grinning wider than Billy’d ever seen him—and apparently found an ally in Steve, who nodded like they were going to war. He even saluted, and Billy elbowed him hard in the ribs as Hopper narrowed his eyes. “So they’re ready.”

“You’re gonna throw shit on the roof at like six in the morning,” Billy groaned. “Aren’t you.”

Hopper’s grin went a little smug, and Billy repressed the urge to run over to the sleeping bags, crawl in head first, and refuse to come out until May.

“We’re ready,” Steve whispered back.

“The stockings are all ready,” Jonathan said, nodding.

“We could liquor up their hot chocolate,” Billy suggested, half-serious. “Knock ‘em out early.” Steve, Jonathan, and Hopper all laughed.

Next (last!) chapter

#Harringrove #Giving El a childhood #Found family #Boyfriend cookies #platypan FINISHED FIC

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chimswae · 4 years ago

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BTS Caretaker CH9

Summary: She may think she has Bangtan Sonyeondan wrapped around her fingers. She may think it is easy to love the members equally without hurting any soul. She may think the boys wont fall head over heels for her. She assumes it is okay to show a little love and affection towards the boys, what if she gets it all wrong? What if it only brings more complication to her already complicated life? Can she survive their charms? Will she be able to resist them? What if they just wont let her go?

- Pairing: BTS x Oc ( Yoongi x OC, Jungkook x OC)

- Genre: Fluff, Slight Angst, Romance, Idol!au

- Word Count: 2,976

- Author Note: i update slightly late and i appreciate your feedback and comment, just drop in my ASK BOX :)

Previous | Next

Chapter 9

“I am going to kill Jin hyung and Jungkook once they are back” he snorted sharply while throwing glances at the round clock.

“Gosh, 8 minutes and counting yet they are not here. Where the hell are those two?” Jimin wiggled his dangly legs in frustration. He found himself getting annoyed with the waiting, it was torturous considering there was a ticking bomb outside. The girl that he met earlier, he still couldn’t find the heart to trust her. It seemed all lies.

Not seem, it was too vague. He was confident her forehead spelled LIES since the beginning.

Sauntering to the door, he pressed his ears against it with hope he could catch the sound of movement from outside. His lips pursed into a small pout “It is quiet, has she left?” he was about to twist the doorknob but only to be welcomed by a loud knock on the door.

“Let me do my job, get out” she scowled. Seul continued to pound the door lightly using the black vacuum in her hand. He got to be kidding her, she needed to leave as soon as possible before unwanted faces Min Yoongi showed up and things got even messier than before.

Startled at the sudden impact beyond the door, Jimin straighten his body as his brows pinched together, unamused by the tone of her voice “Skip my room. I can clean it later, plus I can’t trust you just yet” he cleared his throat to ease the awkwardness.

“It is not just your room you know. It is Hoseok-ssi too. Have you asked him to skip the cleaning today?” Seul pressed with an intention to tease the shy guy even though it was pointless. She found it was amusing to tease him consider how he easily got startled.

“Hoseok-ssi? Hyung will be fine, he has the cleanest room. There is nothing to clean here. J..ust.. go away… you weirdo” he murmured the last word afraid it might offend the other party.

“But…” she glanced at the name on the door before continues, since Jimin mentioned Hoseok then the person beyond the door must be Jimin. “Jimin-ssi, you might have a clean-freak roommate, too bad you are not Hoseok-ssi. I can tell your boxer is laying freely on the floor screaming for help” she smug.

Needless to say, it was barely two months since she started doing this job, yet Seul was able to catch up some of their habit. For instance, how Jimin loved to trash his boxer on the floor openly. When she first tended the job, Seul was honestly disgusted by that. However, as time passed, she was used to seeing Jimin’s infamous boxer came with different set of colour and pattern whereby sometimes it could be a sore to her eyes.

Jimin eyes rounded at her response “W-hat…are you..” his eyes scanned his room and it stopped at the corner of the room where he could find his purple boxer laid helplessly there. Just how much this girl knew about him? About them? His cheeks turned fifty shades of pink at the thought of Seul picking up his boxer from the floor and did the laundry afterwards. That was embarrassing.

“Are you… how did you know? You are creeping me out!” he gasped dramatically.

Seul’s eyes rolled a little “Whatever you say drama queen. Don’t blame me for your messy room” paying no attention to Jimin’s childish tantrum, Seul proceeded with her cleaning to the next room. The door said Min Yoongi and Kim Seokjin’s rooms, she stared angrily at the name of “Min Yoongi” hoping this would be all nightmare.

------------------

Reluctantly, she entered the room and started the cleaning “Somehow it contrary to his foul mouth, his room is not that messy, as usual. Thank god, I don’t have to clean a lot today” she vacuumed the whole room while humming to Tony Montana. Yes, odd but it came out naturally without she realized.

On the other side, Jimin exasperated a sigh of relief knowing you had moved on to other room and stopped pestering him. Ironically, he was a little conscious with your presence there. He sat on his bed, reflected on many things like how he let a stranger saw the most private part of his life; his body and boxer.

She cleaned the dust on Yoongi’s shelf, patting the books softly, she arranged it accordingly which apparently gave satisfaction for her in the end. Seul was a little too perfectionist sometimes. Her eyes landed at the picture frame on the nightstand, something was pulling her close and she found herself had the photo in her hand already.

Her eyes scrutinized every face in the photos with a small smile “They look happy, he takes after his father I supposed” she never expected a harsh guy like Yoongi would have a family frame close to his bed, guess he is a family guy after all. Appearance can be deceiving most of the time. Who was she to judge him? If an only she had no issues with Yoongi, he could be a possible future friend.

Seul put down the frame quickly as it came to her realization, this was an invasion of privacy. It did not end right there, she was attracted to this one corner with different polaroid hung neatly there. She could see Bangtan group photos together, his selfie and a white mushy little creature namely Min Holly. A smile spread across her face at the sight “Aww, Min Holly is adorable. How can a guy like him pet something cute like this? Min Holly sure deserved better” she mentally judged him with a deep frown.

This was not her first time cleaning their rooms and she paid no attention to it before, why out of all day she was so interested with Min Yoongi’s room. Like everything that she learned from his room did not reflect his attitude. Who is the real Min Yoongi? She pondered upon the idea of finding the real Suga and reality hit her hard. She was wasting her precious time for someone who didn’t deserve her attention.

Seul shuddered at the mistakes that she almost commits few seconds ago. Moving on to Seokjin’s room, Seul must stop herself from getting involved in someone’s else life. After all, she had no intention to befriend any of Bangtan members. That would be the craziest idea that she ever had in life.

Seokjin’s room was as cleaned as Yoongi, so it took her only ten minutes to clean everything. Seul was ready to leave but something brushed passed her legs causing her to squirm in fear. She jumped a little finding the source of movement beneath her “What the hell was that?” tucking the strand of hair behind her ears, she crouched down to have a better view of it.

Without she realized, something slipped inside her hoodies making her to excrete the highest squeal of century “OH MY GOD WHAT THE HELL WHAT IS THIS” she jumped a little tried to get rid of the moving creatures underneath her hoodies. It was a total chaos when the thing started to slide creepily around her neck.

“HELP ME OH MY GOD! HELP HELP” she screamed.

Her voice sure garnered Jimin’s attention “What was that? Did she just call for help” he was contemplating whether to check on her, but the voice got louder and unstoppable? Gathering his courage, Jimin dashed out to the source of the voice only to be welcomed by jumpy Seul.

“THANK GOD! HELP ME PLEASE! THERE IS SOMETHING MOVING INSIDE MY HOODIE HELP ME OH GOD!” Seul squealed in panic. Her cheeks were flushed and Seul’s unsteady breathing feared Jimin that she was not kidding about it.

Jimin approached the scared girl with wide eyes “What should I do, what is inside your hoodie” he questioned.

“HOW SHOULD I KNOW! It is moving under my shirt, GOSH PLEASE HELP ME FASTER” she hurriedly pushed her hoodies above her head, but it got stuck in the middle. “Are you just going to stand there, help me to take this off me” she mumbled underneath the thick clothing.

“Okay wait wait!” Jimin held her arms, and carefully pulled the hoodie. He found it was harder with her moving around so he warned her to calm down and sat her down on Jin’s bed “Now, I will get this hoodie off you” he exclaimed.

Why the hell am I doing this. Helping a freak like her. He deadpanned mentally.

Jimin got hold the hoodie with both of hands and pulled it off exerting a small force careful not to hurt Seul in any way. Little did he know the moment when he pulled the hoodie it came together with the only piece which supposed to cover Seul’s body “Okay I am do-SHIT!” he gulped and immediately blushed.

He saw two small creatures moving away from Seul’s skin underneath Jin’s pillow looking for a place to hide. It was Jin’s sugar glider Odeng-ie and Eomuk-ie. Jimin’s attention now was not on the sugar glider but shirtless Seul.

Seul felt the coldness embracing her skin as she quickly brushed off her hair from covering her eyes, and it hit her hard upon seeing the shirt and hoodies in Jimin’s grips. “Shit…” Jimin cussed under his breath.

“WHAT IN THE WORLD” she covered her chest instantly and screeched crazily. Jimin flinched at her loudness, charging towards her “YAH TONE DOWN YOUR VOICE! PEOPLE MIGHT THINK SOMEONE IS IN DANGER!” Seul was alarmed by his sudden movement.

She let negative thoughts flowed in, making her shifted backwards in defence. Jimin’s legs were caught on the vacuum below him as he landed on his side in the centre of what appeared to be Seul’s body, their bodies were pressed together.

Her heart stopped beating, she didn’t get to breathe anymore. Jimin was way too close, super close to her that she could feel his fine body against her bare one. Oh god, that sounded so wrong, but it was the truth.

Both Seul and Jimin froze, having a staring contest seemed to be out of context now however for some reason this happened to them now. They were both paralyzed did not know how to react. Jimin had one of his hand rested at the side of the bed to balance himself at first, yet it failed him.

A familiar gruff voice brought them out of their daze “What the fuck?” the individual let out a loud gasp.

Seul pushed Jimin off him and hurriedly took her hoodies, putting it on with deep taint blushes spread across her cheeks. She tried to digest everything that happened to her few minutes ago, did Jimin just see her in her bra and he kind of fall above her? Her breath hitched at the memories which she wished to erase.

Jimin groaned while rubbing his bottom “Oww, what the hell woman!” he growled and stood up.

“Jimin what the hell? Why are you with her? In that.. Wait let me process this, what the hell did you guys do? Did you?” before he could jump into any conclusion Seul cut him off “NO! If that is what you think, he was trying to help me with something” she mumbled timidly.

Yoongi snorted with a sarcastic remark “By undressing each other?” he eyed Seul from top to bottom. She felt so violated with that sexy eyes of him, and she mustered her courage to shoot a death glare his way. First of all, need her to remind everyone, she shared an oh not accidental kiss with Yoongi before, and now getting caught in act by Yoongi like this didn’t do any better.

“Something moved inside my hoodie! I was trying to get help!” she justified herself.

Jimin butt in “Yes, it is not like what you think. Odeng and Eomuk got away from their cage!” he went to pick the cause of the problem underneath the pillows and showed it to Yoongi as if it is the evidence of the crime scene. He hoped it could resolve the misunderstanding.

“THEY WERE IN MY SHIRT?” Seul shrieked in disbelief.

She sighed deeply “Since when Seokjin-ssi pet them?”

“He umm… brought them in yesterday” he didn’t even dare to meet eyes with the girl in front of him. Everything happened too fast and the image of her remained fresh in his mind. This was awful.

Yoongi had enough watching those two getting all worked up in front of him and decided to have a private conversation with Seul “Leave us alone, I need to talk to her privately” his eyes were as hard as stone, it was intimidating.

“Hyung.. are you-?”

“YES! Out now Jimin” he ordered. The younger guy scurried off without complain though he was dead curious what was about to happen between them.

For once, Seul didn’t want to let Jimin go, as much as she hated the scenes moment ago, she would rather to stay with Jimin all day rather than Min Yoongi. Now, he is going to confront her about the lies and the kiss. How was she going to escape this?

She found herself shuddered under his hard gaze, taking few steps behind to create space between them Seul managed to stutter the words out “What.. d-o you w-ant” Yoongi tilted his head accompanied his little devil smug.

“You of course” he replied bluntly.

Seul jolted in fear “W-hat….”

“Need me to remind you, the thing that you did to me weeks ago?” he came closer weakened Seul’s knees. She was in deep shits with no place to escape. Speaking of escape plane, didn’t she plan to play dumb and pretended nothing happened between them.

Yes, that was her master plan. Play dumb and act you are innocent.

“Umm..no.. I cant recall” Seul coughed a little, looking away while taking a slow step back until her back hits the cold glass door behind her. Her mind started to panic as soon Yoongi closes the gap between them, she hated the look in his eyes. It was a hint of playfulness and annoyance. The combination was driving her crazy.

“Really? Try to remember it again?” he trapped Seul in between, smirking at her reluctance.

“You must be mistaken, I am here to do my job. And I am done, so I must go now. Please excuse me” she pushed his shoulder, so it could open a path for her to walk and breathe especially.

He pinned Seul’s shoulder, staring into her eyes deeply “I remember how our lips move, though you really caught me off guard that day. I would not forget how you kiss me” one of his brow arched in amusement.

How persistence. What an interesting girl. Yoongi chuckled in his head.

“Wh-at are you talking about? That sounds so wrong. I DIDN’T KISS YOU” she snarled angrily.

“Oh speaking of playing hard to get little missy. Do I need to bring you back to that day?” he leaned his face dangerously close to Seul. One more swift movement, his lips would sweep hers immediately. Seul’s breath hitched at the close proximity, while her mind finding way to escape this evil lair.

He scanned her face from her long lashes which batted beautifully, followed by her unsteady breathing, it was intriguing to see how she mewled under him. Yoongi took the chance to appreciate her natural beauty up close, the last time he was closed to a woman, he paid no heed to her facial. Until today, he realized how woman’s facial bones differ from a man like him. Giving it how a woman had a feminine face in comparison to a man.

“What are you doing, get off me” Seul chewed her lower lips slowly afraid a slight movement by her might cause another kiss tragedy between him and Yoongi. It would be bad if they kissed again. The first one might be intentional, to save her ass. But the second one later would be confusing to her.

“Are you by any chance like me?”

“NO WAY YOU COCKY ASSHOLE! WHY WOULD I? YOU ARE LIKE A TOTAL JERK!” the foul mouth Seul is back to attack causing the latter to chuckle softly, impress of her sinful mouth.

Yoongi rolled his eyes “You will be regretting it for calling me a cocky asshole. But, you still kissed me though, doesn’t it imply something. Or are you trying to seduce us? Just how you get Jimin?” he accused.

Seul was offended by his words, now that calls for real fight. Did he just indirectly turn her into a psycho bitch “The kiss was a mistake!I… did that to defend myself. You were about to murder me, you jerk! Jimin-ssi was helping me from murdering Jin’s new pets! ARE YOU INSANE?” Yoongi whom first jerked his head backward now return to his earlier position.

Their lips were now inch close again making Seul’s lips sealed completely.

Jerk, jerk! Jerk! She cursed angrily in her head.

“Now you remember, I thought you forgot it completely. I guess you are still reminded by that. By the kisses that we shared” he smirked.

“For your information, there is no kisses. It was only a kiss. Don’t get ahead yourself”

“Oh, lets make them kisses then”

Just like that, her lips are reunited with Yoongi soft one. Her adrenaline rush was so high at the moment and Seul had no idea how to recover from it. The way his small lips move against her was driving her mind crazy.

Did it just happen? Another incidental kiss with Yoongi?

Why is he kissing me! Seul screamed mentally. Part of her wanted to push him off, but why her muscle didn’t budge. Screw this.

Ji Seul, you are so done.

#bts fic #bts fanfic #bts romance #bts idolau #yoongi idolau #min yoongi x oc #suga x oc #jungkook x oc #jimin x oc #jin x oc #hoseok x oc #taehyung x oc #namjoon x oc #bts x oc #bts series #btscaretaker

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kooala · 5 years ago

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somebody to heal - 사랑해

so this is my attempt on a cutesy, making your day better, Taehyung drabble! Hope you’ll enjoy this one xx

(my internet is a mess I think the first time I uploaded didn’t work so heres a second try!)

was influenced by his lovely perm because - giving me life

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Wordcount: A little over 2k

Genre: Fluff, Domestic AU! Tae, established relationship

Taehyung had been waiting for you to return home after work, but like every day this week it had dragged out and instead of cooking and waiting for you with a cold dinner, he had taken it upon himself to do things around the apartment that had been left behind the past couple of months. He fixed the broken towel hook in the bathroom, sorted out all the bills into a “paid” and “to pay” pile as well as organizing the entire cable box no one knew what to do with, only to find out that most of the devices had been thrown out months ago.

He did his usual chores around the apartment, he vacuumed, took out the trash, made sure the couch looked presentable with fluffed cushions and folded blankets - he even folded the laundry, which was usually your job, and sorted it into the dresser in the bedroom.

He made sure to make the bed and to stock up on your favorite coffees and teas for when you return late after work this Friday, making sure the weekend would start off on the right foot.

Sitting on the couch and watching some mindless tv show he couldn’t help but stare at his phone to check the time every couple of minutes.

It was past eleven, really late even for you.

Not for a second in all the years you had been together had he ever doubted that your job was the reason for your late arrival. He knew that being a law assistant was important to you, he knew that you worked hard to be where you are today and if it made you happy, he would gladly stay up to make sure both of you could see each other, even if it was just for an hour at night, you still had all the weekends after all.

His neck almost cracked when he turned his head to the door too fast, hearing your keys rattle in the lock and with a smile on his face he sat up more straight, waiting to see the face he loved so much walk through the door.

“...Babe..”, he mumbled caringly as you entered the door with bags of groceries on your arms and an exhausted expression on your face.

“I texted you, I already went to get groceries, love.” His voice was soft as he walked over, taking the bags out of your hands to place them on the kitchen island and although you turned to start unpacking them, you stopped and looked up at him as he cupped your cheeks.

“Hi.”, he said a little more pressing, forcing you to look up at him. You didn’t want to stare right into his beautiful eyes because it always made you weak, your tough shell crumbling at the sight of him - but you didn’t want to cry in front of him.

“Hey bub.”, you smiled up to him and once he ran his soft fingers through your hair, your facade was crumbling into a million pieces, your eyes welling up immediately, making it impossible to look at him so you lowered your gaze to his chest.

“Been an exhausting week, huh?” It hurt him to see you this way but he knew that this wasn’t usually what you were like when you returned, this week must’ve been brutal and he was going to be there to make you feel better about it.

Wrapping both his arms around you he cocooned you in his arms, letting the warmth of his chest trickle through your coat, holding you until you could feel his warmth all through your body. He didn’t ask because you were going to start talking once you felt like you were ready to talk.

“How about this, babe. You go take a shower or bath, whatever you like, and I’ll go order some food in the meantime? And then we can just relax. Sounds good?” He looked down at you, tucking a strand of messy hair behind your ear and with a smile on his face, he kissed your lips gently.

It didn’t matter how long you had dated him or how long you were going to be with him in the future - kissing him always felt like the first time.

“I’m sorry for being like that, I’m just exhausted, didn’t mean to make you feel crap about it.”, you mumbled, feeling a little guilty for coming home and just dropping your mood package at his feet, expecting him to understand - but he did. He always understood.

“You’re not making me feel crap at all and we’re going to make you feel better in a minute, alright? You’ll feel better after the shower. Go, go.”, he mumbled and after taking off your coat and walking to the hallway, he gave you a quick slap on the bum, making you giggle like a fourteen-year-old as you made your way to the bathroom smiling.

You took your time with the shower, did a hair mask, shaved, pampered yourself - everything to make you feel clean and nice about yourself, washing off your worries and feeling like a new person as you stepped out.

Grabbing the towel you saw he had fixed the loose screws and with a pout, you wrapped yourself up in a towel and walked out to the living room. You felt strangely emotional lately, must’ve been because you were due soon and you always got sentimental before your period.

“You fixed the hook.”, you mumbled tearful, standing in the hallway, looking at him sitting on the couch on his phone.

As Tae looked up to you in the towel, teary-eyed he couldn’t help but chuckle at how sensitive and exhausted you seemed to be.

“I did fix the hook, yes.”, he nodded, chuckling softly again.

“Why are you such a good boyfriend? How did I deserve someone who fixes things and who puts away the groceries and folds laundry and I just come home and whine about how crap my day has been.” He felt a little confused as to the turn all of this seemed to be taking and as the first tears started rolling over your cheek he got up.

“Hey, wow, wow, wow - don’t cry? It’s no big deal, I like doing that kind of stuff. You do it as well, don’t you? We’re both doing things.”, he tried to turn all of it around and walked over, wiping your tears with his thumbs.

“Maybe you should go get some sleep instead? We can eat the food tomorrow..”, he asked carefully but you shook your head.

“I’ll behave. I’m sorry I just.. I love you. Loads.”

This time you were the one cupping his cheeks and despite the towel falling off your body, he wrapped both his arms around you tight and kissed you back.

“I love you, too Y/N. You know I do baby.”

With a smile on your face, you felt a little better after crying a little more. Maybe the exhaustion had purely been emotional and after letting some of it out, you could finally relax.

“Okay, I’ll get changed. Food smells amazing.”, you smiled and clapped your hands a little bit, wiping over your cheeks then to get rid of the last tears on them. Your sudden mood changes made Taehyung expect what was going on and he only laughed, nodding.

“And don’t put on something flimsy or I won’t be able to focus on the bachelor.”, he joked, mocking you a bit because he knew you loved some trash tv when the moment was right.

“I’ll wear the flimsiest thing I can find, thank you very much! Maybe I’ll even eat naked.”

You swayed your hips from side to side while walking to the bathroom, teasing him a little bit but you knew that being intimate was the last thing you wanted to do right now - still it was fun to show him what he already owned sometimes.

Walking out in a very ‘flimsy’ shirt, Tae’s to be exact, you made your way back to the living room where he had already spread out the ordered food on the couch table, sitting on the floor next to it while looking for a movie or tv show to watch, waiting patiently for you.

You twisted your wet hair a bit, putting them over your shoulder to get them out of the way and took a seat next to him, opening your take out boxes.

“Can we just talk for a moment?”, you smiled as he was scrolling through the tv and with a smile he nodded, turning it off. He loved when you wanted to talk when it was late which you rarely did because all you did all day was talk.

But you knew it was important to him so this was the least you could do for him.

“How was your day?”, you asked and reached for the chopsticks to start eating while listening to his every word. He talked about his day, told you a funny story that happened with one of his friends while continuously stroking his hand over your thigh softly. In moments like this, you had no idea how you could doubt his love for him - how anyone could ever doubt love because this was it in its purest form.

“Well sounds like someone had a good day? I’m happy for you, cutie.”, you smiled over to him and felt your heart melt a little as he did his little nose scrunch.

“I did have a very good day and believe it or not, after you walked through that door was the best part so far.” He winked at you and you could feel your cheeks blush although you had seen him do it hundreds of times before.

“Is that sooo.”, you smirked a little bit and watched him wiggle his eyebrows at you.

“That iiiis.”

You laughed and leaned over to snuggle into his chest, wanting to have him close.

“I’ll take the trash over to the kitchen and then we snuggle ok?”, he asked and you shook your head, putting a hand on his chest.

“I’ll do it.”

You sorted through the leftovers and the trash, putting the rest in the fridge and throwing out the plastic before hurrying back over to the couch. He was stretched out on the couch, covered in a blanket and lifted it up as he saw you walking over.

Quickly you snuggled into the blanket, putting your leg over his and resting your cheek on his chest, hugging him in tight. You could feel his fingertips sliding under your shirt, brushing over your back in circles.

“lob you.”, you mumbled quietly and you could feel his laugh with your cheek on his chest.

“Lob you? Lob you, too weirdo.”, he chuckled, kissing your head soft.

You let him decide what he wanted to watch since you had decided the majority of tonight and you wanted him to at least be able to enjoy the film. Once he started the movie, something with loads of fighting and robots, you slowly drifted off to sleep, his hands stroking over your skin only speeding up the process.

When you opened your eyes again, you were confused for a second, feeling the warm covers engulfing you in bed. You could feel his foot close to yours under the covers and with a tiny smile after realizing he had carried you into bed, you made your way over to him under the sheets, wrapping your legs around his a bit more.

“So soft.”, he mumbled as he touched your freshly shaved legs with his foot, stroking over it half asleep and absent minded.

You closed the space between the both of you and although you were nowhere nearly as tall as Tae was, you spooned him. No matter how tough and caring he seemed to act, he always enjoyed being little spoon way more than anything else.

With a chuckle you could feel him curl up a little more, letting you wrap his arms around him tight and you couldn’t have been happier. Kissing his ear soft you rested your chin on his shoulder, his scent lulling you in completely.

hope you loved it! If you have a request or any suggestions for improvement let me know! Would love to hear from you x

For: @bangtan-madi

#bts #bangtan #bangtan sonyeondan #bts drabble #bts fic #bangtan fic #bts oneshot #taehyung x reader #taehyung fluff #taehyung x y/n #taehyung drabble #taehyung oneshot #taehyung fics #idol fiction

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chinguwritings · 4 years ago

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A 3RACHA Fan-Fiction

|| Ch 1 || Ch 2 || Ch 3 || Ch 4 || Ch 5 || Ch 6 ||

By: Admin Kay

Chapter 3 - Shared Feelings

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Hanahaki AU

Rating: R (swearing, sexual scenes)

Word Count: 4.2k

“Changbin,” Jisung called as he knocked on his bedroom door. Not receiving an answer, he welcomed himself in and found a still sleeping Changbin curled up on his bed. “Hyung?” he called again, sitting down on the edge of the bed, “Did you see Chan’s text last night?”

“Hng?” he mumbled into his pillow as he shifted under the sheets, “I didn’t check my phone last night.”

“Oh… well, he wanted to have a 3racha day today so he invited both of us to go to the amusement park with him. Do you think you’re feeling well enough to go?”

“Not really… I still feel like shit.”

“Damn…” Jisung sighed, worriedly glancing back at Changbin, “He wanted to celebrate after finishing our recording so he was really looking forward to it… I’ll let him know you don’t feel good.”

He waited for a confirmation from Changbin, but got nothing, so he decided to just head back to his room and start getting ready. Jisung really did feel bad that Changbin couldn’t come, but secretly, he was kind of excited that it would just be him and Chan… it was like a second date!

“Hello?”

“Hi, Chan-hyung!” Jisung greeted through the phone as he looked through his closet for a nice outfit, “So um… I’ve got some good news, and bad news.”

“Okay, let’s hear the bad first.”

“So, Changbin has been sick since yesterday afternoon… this morning I checked up on him, but he said he still doesn’t feel good so he’s not gonna come today.”

“Oh, he’s sick? He seemed alright at his recording yesterday… tell him I hope he feels better soon. So what’s the good news?”

“I’m going!” Jisung said excitedly, finally deciding on an outfit and laying it out on his bed.

“Oh,” Chan chuckled at the excitement in Jisung’s voice, “Alright, so it’ll just be the two of us then?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” he answered, trying to sound a little less giddy as he changed into the clothes he’d picked out.

“Okay then, I’ll be at your place in like fifteen minutes to pick you up.”

“Sounds good! See you soon.”

“See you.”

Cupping his face in his hands, Jisung laughed hysterically to himself, unable to wipe the huge smile off his face. He couldn’t even process the excitement he was feeling about being alone with Chan again, and even more so, at an amusement park. Even though it wasn’t intended to be a date, the given circumstances were sure as hell making it seem like one.

Recollecting himself, he finished styling his hair and gave himself a few spritz of his favorite cologne before packing a condom and mints in his pants pockets, as always, and just as he finished getting ready, he heard his phone go off.

[Chan 11:43 am]: Im here

As excited as he was, he was also nervous. This was the first time they’d be spending time together with Chan knowing Jisung was gay, and although he was supportive when he came out, hanging out now would be completely different. What if Chan started being awkward around him because he knew Jisung was into guys now? He knew Chan was a nice person, but this was sexuality they were talking about; if Chan was straight and he suspected that Jisung had a crush on him, the close friendship they shared and developed up to this point could be put on the line. It was a bit scary for Jisung to be honest, but he really liked Chan, so he wanted to make a genuine effort to be with him. If it didn’t work out, well then he would just accept that it’s not meant to be… at least that’s what he told himself.

“Hey,” Jisung greeted as he opened the passenger side door of the company van.

“Hey,” Chan smiled, peering over at Jisung as he made himself comfortable and slung his seatbelt on, “You look nice!”

“Oh, uh… thanks!” Jisung stuttered, his eyes falling to the floor nervously, “Um… you too.”

“No need to flatter me,” Chan chuckled as he put the car back into drive and started making his way to the amusement park. “So… do you know when Changbin started feeling sick?”

“Hm… not exactly, but it must’ve been shortly after the recording yesterday. He said he was gonna meet me at the practice room, but he didn’t show up, and then when I got home I found him in the bathroom. It didn’t sound too good…”

“I see…” Chan nodded, a serious expression on his face as he focused intensely on the road.

“Yeah… he said it’s just food poisoning, but I’m not too sure. Sometimes, Changbin tries to act tough and hide when he’s hurting, but I don’t like to fight with him about it,” Jisung shrugged, turning to look out the window before continuing, “I’m sure he’ll go to the doctor if it’s bad enough, so I’m trying not to worry.”

“I agree, as long as he knows his limits he should be fine.”

* * *

Changbin groaned as he stretched out his arms and then reached for his phone, checking the time through half lidded eyes. Damn, it’s 2 already? he sighed, rubbing his face as he slowly sat himself up and dragged himself out of bed.

“Jisung,” he called as he walked out into the hall towards Jisung’s bedroom, but there was no answer. “Jisung?” he called again, knocking on the door before opening it and peeking inside. You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me…

Finding an empty room, he quickly made a round around their small apartment to double check, but as suspected, Jisung was nowhere to be found. Changbin only sighed in response knowing there was nothing he could do about it at that point. He was just in utter disbelief that Jisung cared more about going out with Chan than staying home to make sure his best friend was okay… was something going on between them?

He had suffered enough last night, getting caught up in his thoughts about Chan, so he tried his best not to think about it; the last thing he wanted was another bad flare up. Wanting to keep himself busy, he thought it’d be a good idea to clean up around the house, taking out the trash, washing the dishes, doing the laundry, vacuuming, and so on. By the time he’d finished, it was almost dinner time, so he decided to go out and treat himself at a nice restaurant since Jisung was probably gonna be out for a while more.

As he sat at his table waiting for his food to be served, he found himself scrolling through his social media to pass the time; it was pretty boring though, there wasn’t much to see. He was just about to get off of the app when he noticed a post from the 3racha account on his feed, so he scrolled down to see what it was. To no surprise, it was selfies of Chan and Jisung and they were posing together on the ferris wheel.

Even though he wasn’t surprised, Changbin definitely wasn’t happy about seeing pictures like that. All he could think to himself was, why couldn’t it be me? He wasn’t one hundred percent sure if Chan and Jisung had feelings for each other, but seeing as Jisung had been acting strangely these days and avoiding Changbin’s questions, it was hard for him to ignore the eerie feeling he’d developed in regards to their relationship.

If they really did have something though… why? What’s so different about Jisung that Changbin doesn’t have? What does Chan see in him? Is it because Jisung is more bubbly? Taller? Better looking? It bothered him knowing that Chan could possibly like Jisung and not even that long after their one night stand. Did Chan really not care about him?

He was able to go the entire day flower free, but good things don’t last forever, right? Just as the waitress brought his food, he could feel the familiar tightness building up in his lungs accompanied by his increasing heart rate and an intense urge to cough.

“Um excuse me…” he called to the waitress as she walked away, “Where’s the restroom?”

“In that corner over there, just past the wall,” she pointed as she spoke, “You’ll see the sign.”

“Thank you,” Changbin barely finished as he rushed to the corner as she’d directed, tears filling his eyes as he continued to fight back his urge to cough. It’s not that this disease was critical and would cause people to panic if they saw someone who had it; it wouldn’t cause death in its early stages and it wasn’t contagious. But Changbin found it rather embarrassing and it just made him feel extremely pathetic. How can an idiot really be hung up on a person who treats them like shit and doesn’t like them back? If people knew that some dude was struggling with unrequited love long enough to have reached the fourth stage, green petals… then doesn’t that show weakness? That he’s not strong enough to move forward? Besides being noticed by people in public, maybe that’s also why he was so afraid to tell Jisung. He didn’t want him to think he was weak.

Arriving at the bathroom just in time, he shut and locked the door before his lungs spewed dozens of green lily petals into the toilet bowl. It always hurt more after dwelling on his thoughts for a long time and it also seemed to be hurting more as his disease continued to progress; when would it end? Clutching his sides in pain, he closed his eyes as he tried his best to steady his labored breathing. It took a few minutes for him to finally regain strength enough to pull himself back together, although part of it was forced just because he wanted to get out of that place as soon as he could.

Once he got back to his table, he asked for his check and to have his food taken out instead, not really having much of an appetite anymore after his sudden outburst. By the time he got back home, it was nearly 8, but still Jisung hadn’t come home. How long were they gonna be out anyways?

* * *

“So did you have fun?” Chan asked as he and Jisung found an open table to sit down and eat their food at.

“Yes! Thank you so much for bringing me,” Jisung smiled as he bit into his burger.

Chan chuckled, finding Jisung’s reaction cute, “I’m glad. We should definitely do this more often.”

Jisung’s eyes grew wide at Chan’s comment, surprised to hear that he felt that way. It’s true that he might’ve been thinking more of it than it really was, but knowing that Chan wanted to spend more time with him regardless if it was platonic or not made Jisung’s heart flutter. The more he could bond with Chan, the more he felt like he had a chance.

“I mean… unless you don’t want to,” Chan interrupted teasingly in response to Jisung’s silence.

“N-no no, that’s not it! I do want to… I was just surprised… is all…”

Chan could only laugh again, seeing how flustered Jisung was. He wasn’t really sure, but he was starting to get an inkling that maybe Jisung had a crush on him. Even though this whole amusement park hangout was meant to be for 3racha, he was thankful to have another opportunity with just Jisung so he could test if his hypothesis was correct. “Did you have any last things you wanted to do before we leave?” Chan asked before finishing off his food.

For a moment Jisung sat there, thinking if there was anything else he wanted to do. As he glanced around the park that was now beautifully illuminated in the night, there was actually one thing that stood out to him and caught his attention. “Um… if you’re up for it, do you want to go on the ferris wheel again? Since it’s dark now, maybe we can see the city lights.”

“Sure,” Chan smiled, “I wanted to go again too, actually.”

After finishing up their food and cleaning up the table, the two of them made their way back to the ferris wheel. Thankfully, the line wasn’t too long so they were able to get into a cart fairly quickly. Slowly the cart made its ascent as other people boarded after them and as Jisung mentioned, once they were high enough, the breathtaking view of the city came into view, the street lights glowing under the starry night sky.

“Hyung, look,” Jisung gawked as he stared out the window, “It’s so beautiful.”

Chan took the opportunity to scoot closer to him, slinging his arm over the back of Jisung’s side of the bench as he peered over his shoulder, “It definitely is… but I’ve got my eyes on something else.”

Jisung’s face suddenly began to heat up, hands growing clammy as his heart began to pound. He was really hoping it was him that Chan was referring to, but it seemed too good to be true. He didn’t want to give himself false hope.

“Y-you do?” he answered, not wanting to make assumptions too quickly. As he turned to face Chan, he was startled to see that he’d scooted closer while he wasn’t paying attention and his face was now just a hair's width away from his own.

“Stop me if you don’t like it,” Chan barely whispered before pressing his lips against Jisungs. His eyes widened at Chan’s abrupt advance, his face even more flushed now than earlier as he sat there in shock. “Not gonna kiss me back?” Chan mumbled as he pulled away, his hand going up to brush over Jisung’s cheek, “I’ll stop if—”

Before he could finish, Jisung reconnected their lips, his arms wrapping around Chan’s waist to pull him closer. Chan chuckled against Jisung’s lips, feeling his fiery passion emanating from the kiss and how much he’d probably been longing for this moment to happen… so it was finally confirmed that Jisung did in fact like Chan.

The two gasped for air as Jisung finally pulled away, still slightly appalled by what had just happened. Did this mean… Chan liked him too?

“I guess… you really are a virgin, huh?” Chan teased upon noticing the slight tent in Jisung’s pants, likely from their brief make-out session, “I believe you now.”

“Yah…” Jisung whined as he turned away from Chan, embarrassed, and covered his crotch area with his hands.

“What? I didn’t say it was a bad thing. You’re young, better to save it for the right person anyways.”

“And what if… I think that person is you?” Just after Jisung said that, he regretted it; that wasn’t at all how he planned to confess to Chan. He imagined it being much smoother and more romantic.

“Is that so?” Chan grinned, “Well, if you think so, I’d definitely love to be that person for you.”

“R-really? I mean… not just the sex part, though… I actually… really like you, Chan-hyung.”

“I know, and I like you, too, Jisung.”

Jisung had the biggest smile plastered onto his face at the sound of Chan’s words, tempted to pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. Chan really just told him that he liked him back and this was the first time they spent any time together after their last hang out when he first came out. It was a little hard for him to believe but he also didn’t think Chan would lie to him, especially about something as sensitive as romantic feelings.

His thoughts were interrupted by the cart door being opened by one of the park attendants, who then gestured for them to exit the ride. The two boys bowed slightly, thanking the person as they stepped out of the cart and started making their way back to the van. Jisung was still speechless and lost in his thoughts as they walked and Chan could tell; he didn’t want to interrupt though, so he let him be, following close behind until they finally arrived back in the parking lot. By the time they left, it was past 8 and so when they got back to Jisung’s place, it was almost 9.

“Hyung…” he started, catching Chan by surprise as he parked the van up against the curb.

“Hm?” he replied, turning his head to face Jisung, “Is something wrong?”

“Um… there’s something I wanna try…” he stated shyly, eyes falling to the floor as he awaited Chan’s response.

“Alright, what is it?”

Jisung was hesitant about answering, but he really just dug his own grave. He already brought it up so there was no running away now. “Uh well… do you think we could um… go in the back seat first?”

“Oh?” Chan questioned, cocking his head at Jisung who looked quite embarrassed, “Yeah, that’s fine with me.” Chan smirked to himself knowingly as he got out of his seat and met Jisung in the back seat and shut the door behind him. He didn’t know exactly what Jisung wanted to do but he could definitely assume the premise of it. “So, what is it you wanted to try?”

Jisung froze, staring at Chan as he tried to build up enough courage to share his request, but he kept having second thoughts. He couldn’t help but think it’d be strange and abrupt to just ask Chan to make out with him again, and on top of that he’d probably end up thinking Jisung was desperate. After that little taste Chan gave him on the ferris wheel though, he just couldn’t get it out of his mind; he wanted to feel it again but this time longer, more passionate, and maybe it could even lead to more if he was lucky… he didn’t carry a condom with him at all times for nothing.

After waiting in silence for too long, Chan snickered before finally breaking the silence, “Let me guess… it has something to do with what happened on the ferris wheel.” Scooting closer, Chan placed a hand on Jisung’s thigh, his other hand going up to caress Jisung’s face, thumb brushing over his smooth, rosy cheek.

Jisung barely nodded, eyes wide with anticipation in hopes that Chan would be the one to initiate it again. He barely made out a grin forming on Chan’s lips when he let his eyes flutter shut, waiting to feel the amazing feeling he felt on the ferris wheel for the second time.

For a moment, Chan only looked at him in amusement; it was adorable how Jisung became so reliant when he was nervous, but he was almost certain now that he knew what Jisung wanted. Leaning in, Chan finally pressed his plump lips against Jisung’s, earning himself a little gasp from the younger boy. The hand he had upon Jisung’s face, soon shifted instead to the nape of his neck sending chills down his spine while the hand on his thigh slowly inched higher and higher, giving him light squeezes in between. He could feel his insides tingling from the combination of sensations he was feeling and to add to that, Chan slipped his tongue into Jisung’s mouth without any warning, making his breath hitch in his throat.

Jisung could feel the crotch of his pants starting to tighten again, his burning desire for Chan building up again and intensifying, far exceeding what he felt on the ferris wheel. He never knew that he could be so attracted to a guy in this way, or any way really, it made him want to do everything with Chan and he couldn’t get enough of his touch.

Reaching for the hand on his thigh, Jisung did something completely unexpected; he wasn’t sure if it was his hyperactive libido acting or if he was just that comfortable with Chan now, but before he could even think about it, he had dragged Chan’s hand further up his leg until it finally landed on his bulging erection. He felt Chan smirk against his lips before slightly pulling away to speak. “I didn’t know you could be so bold,” Chan chuckled, fingers curling around Jisung’s girth as much as his pants allowed.

As much as Jisung wanted to reply, his brain was too overwhelmed to form words, only a soft moan slipping out of his mouth in response to the new sensation. Even with clothes in between, Chan’s hands just felt so damn good and he couldn’t get enough of it. “Hyung,” he whimpered, gripping Chan’s bicep to brace himself, “Y-you… can do what you want… t-to me.”

“Are you sure?” Chan asked, momentarily halting his movements.

Nodding his head, Jisung desperately urged his hips upwards, wanting Chan to continue his glorious fingerwork. “I trust you.”

Chan grinned in acknowledgement before proceeding to touch Jisung again. “Okay. I’ll go easy on you… since you’re a virgin.”

“Yah… you always make fun of me,” Jisung whined, inhaling sharply as Chan began toying with his head, “Have you done it before or something?”

“Maybe,” he shrugged, pausing his hand movements again to undo Jisung’s pants, “And I only make fun of you because I think you’re cute.”

Jisung felt his face heating up again at Chan’s words, eyes glued to Chan’s hands to avoid his gaze. Did he really just call me… cute? I must be dreaming…

The air felt cool around Jisung’s throbbing cock as Chan pulled down his briefs, letting it free, precum starting to seep from the tip in anticipation. Chan skillfully spread the substance around with his thumb before wrapping his fingers around his shaft, slowly beginning to pump him.

Jisung struggled to hold in his moans, the skin on skin contact of Chan’s hand on him presenting a new degree of pleasure that he’d never felt on his own. He honestly imagined it’d feel comparable to masturbating, but there was just something about Chan’s touch that felt so much better, though, he couldn’t quite put a finger on what it was exactly. He’d barely done anything, and Jisung already felt like his end was nearing.

“Feel good, Sungie?” Chan smirked against his ear, gently nipping at it before pressing a few kisses along his jaw and down his neck.

“Fuck,” Jisung groaned, face scrunched as he tried to fight back his orgasm, wanting to hold on to the blissful feeling Chan was giving him just a little longer.

“You’re close aren’t you?” he mumbled into his neck, fingers sliding up to play with his slick, sensitive head, “Just relax.”

“God, Chan-” Jisung gritted his teeth as he clenched onto Chan’s shirt sleeve, feeling his insides starting to tingle. He was holding on to his composure by only a single thread, but Chan had other plans, showing him no mercy as he suddenly picked up speed making Jisung gasp. “Chan I’m—”

Before he could even finish his sentence, and intense pleasure erupted throughout his body, making him tense up as his head fell forward, hair covering the profanities that he mouthed as he spilled his hot seed. Chan hovered his hand over Jisung’s member to prevent the substance from shooting onto his clothes, instead letting it drip down his hand and accumulate in one place. Once Jisung finished riding out his high, Chan kicked out a tissue box from under the seat to clean up the mess, while Jisung attempted to catch his breath and collect himself before doing anything else.

“That was… amazing,” Jisung mumbled, slumped back in his seat with his eyes still closed.

“I’m glad,” Chan smiled as he wadded up the used tissues and tossed them into the front cup holder to discard later.

Wearily, Jisung turned his head, staring at Chan through his hooded lids before his gaze fell down to Chan’s crotch.

“Hyung! You’re hard,” Jisung gasped, reaching down to cup his bulging erection when he was abruptly stopped by a firm grip on his wrist.

“You should go,” Chan spoke solemnly, a glint of worry in his eyes, “Changbin is probably waiting for you.”

“But Chan!” Jisung whined, “After you did that for me… I have to return the favor…”

“Another time, Jisung… it’s 9:30 already.”

“But—”

Pressing his lips to Jisung’s, he quickly shut him up, but the kiss was brief as he still stood by his earlier words. “Go,” he said again as he pulled away, quickly opening the side door and hopping out after, “I’ll text you tomorrow.”

Jisung was sad to leave, but he knew Chan was right. Changbin was home alone, sick for literally the entire day because Jisung wanted to spend time alone with Chan. He hated to admit it, but it was an extremely selfish decision and he didn’t even want to think about how Changbin probably felt; he knew it’d make him feel even more guilty than he already did.

When Jisung stepped into the apartment, he found Changbin sitting on the couch watching TV, completely unphased by his arrival.

“Wow. Aren’t you late,” Changbin remarked, his focus never leaving the tv as he spoke.

“Y-yeah, I guess… a little?” Jisung said nervously as he took off his shoes and set them aside.

“So, how was your date?”

“W-what? What do you mean?”

“Stop playing innocent already. It’s getting annoying.”

“I… don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I saw the damn van parked outside at least twenty minutes ago, don’t lie to me! What the hell were you doing in there for twenty minutes?! or maybe even longer, I don’t know!”

“I…” Shit.

|| Ch 1 || Ch 2 || Ch 3 || Ch 4 || Ch 5 || Ch 6 ||

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vandnana · 4 years ago

Text

Loving You Is Easy

Part Seventeen

The ride to the train was terrifyingly dull. For the first two hours, Chanyeol took a nap, but the for the next two, he sat listening to his music and watching videos to pass the time. When he woke up, he had a billion texts from the group chat he had with Junmyeon, Baekhyun, and Sehun, all impatiently waiting for his return. Chanyeol searched through his other messages, hoping to find one from me, but there was none. He knew that I was working, but it didn’t stop him from texting me. Yet, they were all just pictures of himself, his reasons rooted in the fact that I could “forget how handsome he is.”

He reached Schenectady at around nine o’clock, and once he stepped out of the train and into the vastness of the station, his friends ran at the sight of him, immediately pulling him into a group hug.

“Ugh, you smell disgusting.” Baekhyun fake-gagged, making the others laugh.

“I took a shower this morning. Maybe it’s all of you.” Chanyeol retorted, pulling them away.

“Yeah, you know what, it probably is me. I had sex this morning.” Sehun proudly announced much to the disgust of his friends. Junmyeon slapped his arm, but Sehun just crossed his arms confidently.

“So, was it with your girlfriend or a girl - friend?”

Sehun patted Chanyeol’s shoulder lightly, “You know I don’t make friends with girls.”

Chanyeol rolled his eyes, and Junmyeon had a repelled expression. Baekhyun looked at Sehun as if he was going to cry proud tears.

Approaching Sehun, Baekhyun patted his chest hard, “Look at you, taking after me.”

“You guys are disgusting.” Junmyeon still had the same appalled face.

“Oh, you’re one to talk mister ‘I had sex in the back of the library.’” Baekhyun had his eyebrows raised with a sly smirk.

Chanyeol put a hand over his mouth, an accusatory look in his eyes, “You did it in the library? What the hell is wrong with you?”

Junmyeon looked slightly panicked, stuttering over his words as he tried to speak. “O-okay, y-yes I-I did do that, but but Baek fucked a girl at the car wash and Sehun literally had sex with a girl and her parents were in the house!”

All three of them started arguing, offended by each other’s jabs, while Chanyeol watched, thankful that he wasn’t like them.

Chanyeol interjected the arguing that quickly escalated to yelling, “Okay okay okay okay. All of you shut up. We need to go home so I can fix your guys’ mess.”

They calmed down, huffing a little in anger before giving each other a nod that meant they were all good.

The atmosphere became bubbly again as they rode in the car, their music blasting through the open windows. It didn’t take long for them to arrive, and once Chanyeol stepped out of the car, his surroundings felt like a distant memory.

The entire time that he had been with me felt like more than what it really was. It became the new normal for him, for the both of us. He admitted in his mind that he had forgotten about his life upstate for a while, too immersed in the beautiful present he had with me. But, I wasn’t with him and he had to endure it. He missed me, but couldn’t voice it either. He still hadn’t told them about me, and the guilt he suppressed found him again.

Entering the house, he was horrified. They hadn’t bothered to clean up at all in preparation for his return, and if anything, it was dirtier. Chanyeol set his bag in his room before going into the kitchen to inspect everything.

“While I do this, can you guys please clean the house? All of the cleaning stuff is in the garage. Mop, dust, vacuum, throw all of this trash away, and do your laundry.” Chanyeol began with a pleading tone, but shifted into a demanding one.

They all whimpered and whined at his requests, but conceded when he suggested they switch roles.

“Fine, Sir Chanyeol. We’ll clean the Chateau.” Baekhyun jokingly bowed, Junmyeon and Sehun following his lead.

“Oh my god, just go!” Chanyeol motioned for them to go away, and they jumped at his abruptness, scattering toward the garage and laughing.

Chanyeol crouched down, opening the cabinet underneath the sink. He stepped back once the pungency inside attacked him. There was a huge bowl underneath the leaking pipe, and it was a dark sewer green, bubbling with remnants of god knows what.

He got up immediately to save his nose, and looked around more. The first thing he noticed was the microwave that looked like it was seconds from falling apart, and the next thing were the doorless cabinets, the detached doors all stacked near the garbage can. He opened the fridge, remembering that it had no light. The only thing in there were cases of alcohol and a flashlight. Chanyeol wanted so badly to shut the fridge door aggressively out of frustration, but he fought against it, closing it gently instead.

The trio came out of the garage with all of their cleaning supplies, and were oddly compliant. They all started in the gigantic living room, designating different jobs for each other. If the kitchen wasn’t in such a gross state, he would have been proud of them for actually listening to him. As he passed their cleaning figures on the way to the garage, he looked at them disapprovingly.

The only one who noticed was Junmyeon, who looked more apologetic than anything. Chanyeol shook his head at him before disappearing to get everything he needed. He carried trash bags, protective glasses, gloves, masks, and a toolbox to the kitchen. He put on all of his protective gear before crouching down to fix the pipes underneath the sink. It would have taken less time if there wasn’t so much gunk inside of it. He tried his best to detach the pipe, but it wouldn’t budge at all. Everything inside had found its way out of the seams, and because it sat untouched, the gunk hardened on the outside.

Chanyeol felt defeated as he sat on the floor, wondering how he was going to get the pipe out. He resorted to drenching the outside of it with water and using a hair dryer to heat the pipe. His arm got tired holding the hair dryer up, but it was worth it. His idea actually worked, but once the pipe was loosened, an eruption of gunk flooded over the top and bottom of it, spilling into the trash bag where the gunk bowl used to be.

He cleaned everything up, then reattached the pipe. He made sure that there were no leaks, and once he did, he leaned over the counter, exhausted. This one task already drained Chanyeol’s energy, and his stomach growled at him, begging for food.

“Damn, you look like hell.” Baekhyun walked over to the island, sitting down on one of the chairs to inspect Chanyeol’s state.

“Because of how disgusting all of you are.” Chanyeol snapped, his head drooping down low, threatening to crash onto the counter.

Junmyeon came up behind him, grabbing his shoulders reassuringly, “Sorry we’re making you do this. It’s just, you know we would do more bad than good.”

Sehun found his place on Chanyeol’s right, leaning his elbows on the counter, “If it makes you feel better, we did try to fix this stuff. The microwave doesn’t work and we tried to take it off of the wall, but somehow we broke the bottom of it. We gave up after that.”

Chanyeol lifted his head, taking off the glasses and mask he was still wearing, “What would make me feel better is some food. I’m not buying though.”

Baekhyun stood up from the chair, bowing again, “Anything for you Sir Chanyeol! But, you might want to take a shower again. You stink. Bad.”

The four of them decided on a burger place they had gone to all through college, suddenly feeling the appeal of nostalgia. When they walked in, every worker recognized them, motioning the boys to sit down at the booth they had always sat at.

The owner’s name was Penny, a short lovely woman with silver, curly hair, and the minute she saw Chanyeol, she hugged him tightly. “You’re back! It’s never the same when it’s just the three of them.”

“Ouch, Penny. I’m hurt. You know you’re the love of my life.” Baekhyun pouted, rubbing his heart.

She grinned at him, laughing at his usual antics, “Oh, you know I love you all. So, what will it be? The usuals, right?”

They nodded happily, and she whisked herself away toward the kitchen. Chanyeol was habitually checking his phone, eagerly anticipating my texts, and trying to be sly about it.

“What’s so interesting on your phone that you have to keep looking at it every five seconds?” Sehun squinted, eyeing him suspiciously.

Baekhyun and Junmyeon were on the edge of their seats, hoping to get a juicy answer.

“I’m just checking on Halmeoni. You know how she gets worried when I leave.”

They all groaned, rolling their eyes.

“You’ve been gone for what...a month and half? Something interesting must have happened.” Junmyeon urged in a whiny tone.

“Th-there’s nothing. It’s just the same as it’s always been. I help Halmeoni out at the shop, and I just...am there.”

Sehun looked away disapprovingly, not believing a word that he was saying, “Okay, whatever, but you seemed all worked up over that ‘event’ you were talking about.”

“Yeah, you were all ‘I have an event to go to and I’m expected to be there blah blah blah.’” Bakehyun imitated Chanyeol’s deep voice, making Sehun and Junmyeon laugh loudly.

Chanyeol was serious though, shrugging his shoulders, “Well, I’m here now, right? Don’t worry about it.”

“Fine, fine, we’ll stop bothering you about everything, since you’re so dodgy.” Sehun surrendered, leaning back into the booth with his arms crossed.

“Thank you. So why is-” Chanyeol began to speak, but was interrupted by the vibration of his phone in his pocket. His eyes lit up and his heart started beating irregularly fast as he quickly grabbed it, hoping that it would be me. He couldn’t contain the grin on his face as the screen read my name.

He jumped out of the booth to take the call, almost hurdling Penny as she arrived with their food. She turned around, confused then looked at the boys in the booth for answers. They were just as stunned and confused as she was.

“What was that all about?” Penny asked, placing everyone’s plates in front of them.

They shrugged their shoulders at her question, then thanked her profusely for the food.

“I fucking knew there was a girl. You think he’s that excited to talk to his grandma?” Sehun scoffed, biting into his burger.

“You’re so right. He’s such a little liar. Why wouldn’t he tell us though?” Junmyeon had a distressed tone, contemplating the reasons in his head.

Baekhyun and Sehun both laughed mischeviously in unison.

“Come on, isn’t it obvious? If she was his girlfriend, he definitely would have told us. But, he didn’t. Why? Because they’re not together.” Baekhyun explained, looking at Sehun who was nodding his head.

Junmyeon pieced together their reasoning in his head, glaring at them, “You guys really just have no boundaries, huh?”

“What? Chanyeol can like that girl all he wants, but if she meets me and just so happens to want me instead, then...I have to give the girl what she wants.” Baekhyun licked his lips as he leaned back into the seat.

Sehun jeered at Baekhyun, a lopsided grin forming on his face, “As if she would want you. Clearly, I’m the better option.”

“Please guys, whoever this girl is, she wouldn’t want either of you.” Junmyeon smirked, satisfied at his jab.

“Oh, but she’d want you instead, of course.” Sehun responded sarcastically.

Junmyeon nodded, pursing his lips, “It’s entirely possible.”

The booth was bursting with laughter after his simple response, and Penny called out from the kitchen, urging them to eat the food before it got too cold. They listened, chomping down on their food, while Chanyeol’s sat untouched.

Outside, he felt warmth engulf him as he heard my voice.

“June, hi!”

“Hi! Sorry, are you busy right now?”

“No, no not at all. What’s up?”

“Nothing, I just wanted to talk to you. How’s it been back?”

“Well, I fixed the pipe under the sink, and it was disgusting. It took way longer than it should have.”

“Okay, but the fact that you could fix it by yourself is impressive.”

“What can I say? I’m a regular handy-man. Anyway though, what have you been up to?”

“Besides trying to remember how handsome your face is...I’ve just been working.”

Chanyeol blushed, the smile he already had growing wider, “Do you need another refresher or are you good?”

I laughed, “Well, you sent a million so I’m okay. So, you’re just going to be working on the house all day?”

“Yeah, basically. I’m going to try and do everything as fast as possible. Maybe I can still make it.”

“Chanyeol, I really appreciate that you would do that for me, but it’s all tiring work. If you rush, you’ll just be exhausted by the time you get here, and I’d feel bad. Just get here when you can and spend some time with your friends.”

Chanyeol let out a defeated tone, “Okay, okay. But what are you going to do while I’m gone?”

June squealed into the phone, unable to conceal her excitement, “Later, I’m going over to Kai’s to try on the dress he made me, and then we’re going to have a sleepover.”

Chanyeol gulped, “A-a sleepover?”

“Yeah, Halmeoni’s making the desserts for tomorrow, and she said that it would be better if I just slept over because she wouldn’t be able to spend the day with me, and I have to get ready at Kai’s anyway.”

A fuming jealousy seeped through him, but he remembered the moments we shared the night before. Things were different between us, and that calmed him down.

“Oh. Yo-you’re not gonna be sleeping in the same bed, right?”

“I’m sleeping on the couch, but I don’t even know how I’m going to sleep without you.”

Chanyeol paused, looking down at his feet sadly, “Yeah, me too.”

In my heart, I felt his sadness, “I’ll just call you when I’m about to go to sleep, maybe it’ll help.”

“I like that idea. I’ll be waiting for that call.”

“Okay, I’ll talk to you then, Chanyeol. Don’t think about me too much.”

Chanyeol whimpered at my words, “You’re literally all I think about.”

I hummed happily, wishing that he could see my eyes sparkle as I thought about him.

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tookandbaggins · 4 years ago

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These are the basic guidelines of what I do when dealing with clutter kinds of mess. I like to leave organization for last because it's where I generally get bogged down and if I do it first I generally end up doing some of it over. I have it in stages so I can tell myself "I don't have to ____ right now, just focus on this step". I start by picking a spot where collect important things and items I use every day: keys, wallet, phone, meds. When I’m working on a really messy house, I keep a box handy for stuff that isn't trash but doesn't really have a home so that they don't slow me down. If I encounter someone else's things they go in this area, too.

The first stage is a set of focused sweeps through the whole area.

First I pick out the garbage and get rid of it.

The next sweep is for dirty dishes.

Then laundry: a clean pile and a dirty pile. You could stop to do the dishes here or have the laundry running through the next stages, but it throws off my groove. Also, I always seem to miss a mug or some socks.

The place generally looks a lot better at this point. If that took a while, I might take a break here. I might also just do these sweeps and call it a day. Every bit helps and I find if I'm gentle on myself with cleaning, I don't dread it so much.

The second stage is kinda weird because it feels like I'm making more of a mess, but what I’m doing is getting storage areas prepared for stage 3.

I focus on storage areas in a room one by one: desks, closets, dressers, anywhere I'll want to put stuff away, flat surfaces that collect clutter. I'm not organizing, I'm just taking out anything that doesn't live there and setting it in a pile. When my desk only has desk things on it, I move on to the next storage place and do the same thing.

You can either do this to the whole house if you thrive on chaos like me (and won’t drive others up the wall) or you could kind of alternate between 2 and 3 for each room. Whatever works best for you

Stage three is going through each pile and organizing the items into their places.

I save that box of odds and ends for last and I generally have a better idea of what to do with them at that point. Or maybe they actually belonged in the box the whole time and I just didn't know it? Also, I tend to have shallow boxes or baskets around my room to keep things in. I need to be able to see the stuff I use regularly. It’s not as tidy looking as how I was taught was clean, but this works for me.

It’s going to be a lot easier to do things like vacuum, sweep, clean the bathroom, after you’ve done all that de-cluttering.

Sweeping

Always sweep and mop last after you’ve wiped down tables, counters, etc. so that you're not getting stuff on your clean floor. That’s the worst.

Work from the edges of the room towards the middle.

Move furniture chairs and things around, if you can, rather than trying to get the broom under them.

I find that making small sweeping motions, not long swipes is most effective, but you should experiment a bit. When I do longer motions, I generally leave a trail of debris behind.

I find that frequently using the dustpan to gather up the pile that forms is easier than trying to get everything into one big pile and then that into the pan, especially if you’re dealing with a lot of pet fur.

If you are dealing with pet fur and it sticks to your broom, it might make it less effective. Pulling it off from time to time will help.

You might need to go over spots more than once and that's fine! You want to get as much up as you can before you mop, since mops will only push stuff around.

Mopping

Mops are more for getting up dust and stains, I think? Mopping is my weakness, but I’ll tell you what I can

Most of the time I sweep and never get around to mopping

When you mop, try not to step on or put anything on the wet parts. How do you accomplish this?

Before you start, figure out where you want to end up and work towards there from the farthest point so you don't mop yourself into a corner like I always do.

It’s not the end of the world to walk on it, just try to minimize it.

Mopping must be the most reliable summoning spell in the world. When you start mopping it is only a matter of time before someone wants to walk on it. I’m sorry.

Bathroom

In the bathroom, I clear items off the counter so I can spray it and the sink, the shower, and the toilet.

For the toilet, spray both sides of the lid and seat. If you're using all one kind of cleaner spray in around the bowl too. I usually let that sit for a bit while I wipe down the sink. Especially if you’re using one cloth rag, you want to do the toilet last.

Use the scrub brush on the inside of the toilet. There’s a lip right under the seat where the water comes out, and it tends to be one of the more neglected and therefore grosser parts of a toilet, so spend a bit more time scrubbing there.

Optional: If you have rings that build up where the water sits and you can’t scrub them off with the brush, a pumice stone can be use to scrub the rings. Flush first! If you’re not familiar with pumice, it’s a very porous stone that can float in water. It’s also soft enough that it won’t scratch the porcelain. People use them for their feet but definitely have a separate one for your toilet if you do this. (Sometimes they’re sold with cleaning supplies, otherwise look with the shower stuff.)

Frequent cleanings will help the ring from building up or really setting in, but... I would say as long as you’ve given them a good scrubbing with the brush and some cleaner, completely eliminating the rings isn’t necessary.

Mirror

You can use a cleaner, or white vinegar, or possibly just water. I wouldn’t use an all-purpose cleaner for a mirror, they often leave a residue.

Some people use a wet and a separate dry cloth, but I find paper towel is the easiest way to get rid of the streaks

Spray the mirror with your cleaner or flick water on it, then use your towel to clean of any water stains or spots. Once those are gone, you want your mirror to still be a bit wet.

Then, starting at the top and working down with a dry cloth or paper towel, you want to dry it. This is also an area you should experiment with. I find it works best if I move my cloth is small circles, moving downward but kind of blending back up just a little.

Mirrors took a while for me to get the hang of, so don’t worry if it’s a little streaky.

Your arm will probably be tired.

Things I (or friends) learned the hard way:

don’t use any sort of scrubby on nice stainless steel surfaces, it leaves lots of scratches. If you can’t get something off: just keep spraying the spot, give it time, then scrub away at it with a soft cloth or sponge.

don’t use hot water/rags on cold glass (i.e. inside the fridge); it will shatter

NEVER MIX CLEANERS. There are a lot of different chemicals used in cleaners that can be very bad for you/fatal if you mix them. (I don’t know anyone who did this personally, it’s just good to keep in mind).

I won’t recommend too many products, but magic erasers do feel like magic when dealing with stubborn stains. They’re good for showers and bathroom surfaces as well as kitchen stuff (use a separate one for your kitchen though). Make sure when you’re done cleaning you wring it out and store it somewhere it can dry, otherwise it’ll dissolve.

Final word of encouragement for if you’re new to cleaning and your house is already kind of messy: remember that it’s going to be less work to clean the second time than it was the first time, assuming you clean even just a little more regularly from now on. There will be less build-up and you’re going to have some experience under your belt.

Take breaks, hydrate, and be kind to yourself!

#cleaning

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rogue-panda · 5 years ago

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SALTY PIRATE, DAY THREE

Sunday is laundry day. We have one washer and one dryer for nine apartments, so I am fastidious about getting my laundry done as quickly as possible. Set timers to be outside before the machine finishes. I washed and put away four loads in less than four hours. I had Dad lure the cats onto the patio -- they're allowed outside if supervised -- while I made the bed and folded all my clean stuff without feline interference.

Today's podcast was, again, Welcome to Night Vale.

Worked on the floor and Grandma's chair in my bedroom

Took trash and recycling out to the dumpster

Raked and vacuumed the newly-revealed parts of the bedroom floor

Made lunches and packed my backpack for the work week

I had many interruptions during all of this, as my parents are in their mid-seventies and disabled with failing hearing. They need a lot of help, and Dad likes to wander in to chat and pet the cats. Despite all that, I listened to two and a half episodes while I worked. Dad started Mom's laundry and moved it along, and I put her stuff away after she folded or hung it. Dad was so chuffed to be able to sit in his mother's chair that he went out and bought dinner and dessert for the three of us. Today was a group effort, and we all did what we could to help each other out and improve our home.

(I am serious about NaClYoHo, but I won’t bother with the podcast on Tuesdays. I only have about 45 minutes between coming home from work and running back out the door to get to women's chorus rehearsal on time, so I will only be tidying/cleaning for about five minutes.)

#naclyoho #house cleaning #salty pirates month #tidying

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arbitrarypoetry · 6 years ago

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We’re All Adults Here

“…So then I said, ‘Oh, grow up, will you?’”

Everyone laughed, and Adam did too, a second too late and maybe a touch too loud. He was standing just on the edge of the cluster of people in his living room, only half-able to hear the story the woman in the middle was telling. There was much more noise in the room than he was used to. On top of that, he was distracted. He kept glancing around his apartment, afraid he would find that he’d forgotten something that would give him away—but everything seemed to be in order.

The coffee table, pushed to one side to make more room for the guests, was covered in tasteful magazines about things like wristwatches and boats, which he had quickly flipped through earlier that day to make sure they looked read. The walls held framed black-and-white photography and an ugly abstract painting that made him feel slightly queasy to look at, but that he thought seemed like what his mother might call a “conversation piece.” The floor was vacuumed. The shelves were neat. No sign of dirty laundry, stuffed animals, or comic books.

You’re safe, he told himself. Nobody knows. They all think you’re just like them.

Adam had spent days preparing for this party, weeks. He invited everyone from work, and, except for the crazy lady on the top floor, all the people who lived in his apartment building—the book they’d given him on successful adult life said that house parties were a great way to get to know people. He went out shopping for just the right kinds of snacks, struggling to steer the shopping cart around the aisles. He memorized small-talk conversation starters. He started to put up decorations, but then took them down, afraid that they would look childish.

He was sure that he had done everything right. So why did he still feel so uncomfortable in his own home?

Maybe part of it was the fact that Brian Craig was here, strutting around with his big, puffed-out chest and impressive sweep of hair. He worked in the cubicle across from Adam, and maybe Adam was just being paranoid, but he had the strangest feeling that Brian had it in for him. It was little things, like the way he would loudly ask Adam what he was doing Friday night, and then smirk knowingly at whatever Adam told him. He made fun of the posters Adam had tacked to his cubicle walls for decoration, causing Adam to eventually take them all down, and he had this way of calling Adam “buddy” that made him feel foolish and small.

Adam could see Brian across the room, looking around the apartment, taking everything in, almost as if he was searching for something wrong. They made eye contact. Brian smirked and raised his plastic cup. Adam felt a sudden fear that Brian knew, that he could see right through him, that he was just waiting for a chance to expose everything—but no. That was impossible.

Trying to shake the thought out of his mind, Adam looked away and adjusted his choking tie, feeling a bit like a kid playing dress-up. A soda. That was what he needed. He turned to head to the kitchen, and promptly collided with a woman from the office, who spilled her own drink all over his shirt.

“Oh, my gosh, I’m so sorry!” she said, covering her mouth, eyes wide. She wore a dark blue, knee-length dress, and her hair was pulled back. Adam recognized her as the girl at the front desk, who always gave him a shy smile and looked away again quickly when he came in for work.

Adam had frozen, but now he made himself laugh. “It’s okay,” he said, pulling the wet shirt away from himself with two fingers. “This stuff happens.” Some of the red liquid dripped on the carpet.

She bit her lip, squeezing the cup in her hands. “Do you need me to… I don’t know, pay for dry cleaning?”

“Nah, don’t worry about it. It’s fine. We’re all adults here.” He flashed her what he hoped was a carefree smile and turned away, praying that she wouldn’t hear the lie in his voice.

Sure, the rest of them were all adults. But he wasn’t. Not really.

Something had gone wrong.

***

“You know what the procedure entails, correct?” The doctor set down his clipboard and looked at Adam over the rims of his wire-framed glasses.

Adam shifted in his uncomfortable seat. He knew he had learned this in school, but he was too nervous to remember any of the details. “It has something to do with my brain, right?”

The doctor sighed and turned in his swivel chair, pulling a colorful chart down against the wall. “You are eighteen years old today,” he said, pointing to a spot near the middle of the chart. “That means that, in the legal sense, you are now an adult, and are expected to become independent and begin contributing to society. However, your brain doesn’t naturally finish maturing until you are about twenty-five.” He pointed to the bottom of the diagram. Next to the number 25 was a pink cartoon brain with eyes, a big smile, and a tiny graduation cap. “This would put you at a disadvantage in the real world—however, we can’t simply have you wait until you feel as if you’re ready, either. So what’s the solution?”

This much Adam could remember. “The procedure,” he said, sitting up straighter.

“That’s right.” The doctor let go of the chart, letting it roll itself back up. “Rather than waiting and wasting valuable time, we will speed up your natural brain processes, enhancing your problem solving abilities, social skills, and so on. The procedure will also help give you the knowledge and confidence needed to begin accomplishing your new responsibilities, such as living in a place of your own, working a full-time job, and, ideally, finding a partner in the next few years or so.”

Adam wished he could have a drink of water. His mouth was so dry. “All right,” he said. “Is that all?”

“There is one more thing.” The doctor took off his glasses. “I am required to warn you,” he said, “that due to the altering properties of the procedure, you will not come out the same. You may feel like an entirely different person in some respects. But you will be a more confident, intelligent, and better-equipped person than you are now. Do you understand?”

Adam swallowed. “Yes.” Wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans, he wondered if the procedure would make him braver, too, less prone to worry. He hoped so. “So when do we start?”

***

Adam excused himself to his room to change his shirt, closing the door against the chattering noise of the party. After putting on a clean, dry shirt, he groaned and flopped down on the bed. “Just a few more hours,” he said, pulling a battered-looking stuffed dog out from under his pillow. Rupert had been his favorite stuffed animal growing up, and Adam had smuggled him out of his parents’ house along with his collection of comic books at the bottom of a box of clothes. He was pretty sure that a true adult wasn’t supposed to have such things, but he just couldn’t stand to have them repurposed and given away with all his other childhood belongings.

“After everyone leaves,” he continued, “we can watch TV and eat sugary cereal and not have to deal with a single other conversation about housing prices or taxes. All right?” Rupert simply sat there, ears drooping over his scratched and dimming eyes, but Adam smiled. “Awesome. I can always count on you.”

Remembering suddenly that he had a house-full of adults just outside his door, Adam put Rupert back on the bed and straightened his tie to head out again. How embarrassing it would be if someone had heard him!

No. Not just embarrassing—disastrous, he told himself as he entered back into the crowd, closing the door behind him. No one could know that the procedure hadn’t worked. That he was the only one.

He still remembered the feeling when he woke up from the procedure and realized that nothing had changed. He was supposed to have transformed, become a better, smarter, braver version of himself, someone ready for the challenges of the real world—but he was still exactly the same. His first thought was to tell them that something had gone wrong, there had been some mistake, but they were already bringing him to his new assigned apartment, giving him information about the job he would start in the morning, everything moving so, so fast, and he just… He couldn’t find the words. He didn’t know what would have happened if he had. The procedure had worked on every other person in the country; why hadn’t it worked on him? What was wrong with him?

No, he couldn’t let anyone know. He just had to fake it. He had to keep everyone convinced that he knew exactly what he was doing.

Stepping out into the fray again, he navigated around people as they chatted and sipped drinks, engrossed in each other’s companies. He made eye contact across the room with the woman who’d spilled her drink on him and smiled at her. She gave him a small smile back and looked away, cheeks flushing.

Ducking into the kitchen, he helped himself to some of the cheese platter he’d set out and did his best to join a conversation some others were having about a popular dark and gritty show that all the critics agreed was the best thing on television right then. He nodded along with the discussion, hoping they wouldn’t be able to tell that he’d only seen the first episode and then had trouble sleeping for a week. He preferred the violence of cartoons, where even if someone got a hole blown straight through them, they were up and running again in the very next shot.

After a while, the discussion about one particularly odd-ball character in the show led the conversation to the crazy old lady who lived on their top floor. “I saw her going through the trash once,” said one young man with a daringly stripy tie. “Honestly, I’m not sure why they let her stay here.”

“I wonder… She seems pretty old. Do you think she was around before the procedure? Maybe that would explain her behavior.”

“Nah, they implemented that at least eighty years ago. She can’t be that old.”

“Still, they didn’t start requiring it until…”

Adam knew the woman they were talking about. She was the first person he met when he first moved in, actually. She’d greeted him with a cheerful wave as they passed on the stairs, calling “Hello there, sonny boy!”, much louder than Adam thought adults were usually advised to speak. She had been wearing an oversized coat and two brightly patterned, clashing mismatched socks. Adam, still occupied with his anxiety about the procedure, had only given her a weak smile back, but she hadn’t seemed to mind. She kept climbing down the stairs, whistling to herself in an off-key way.

As Adam tried to adjust to his new life, figuring out how to balance grocery shopping and laundry and work, among other things, too scared to ask any of the others living in his apartment building for help, he found himself noticing her a lot. Through his front window, he could see her out in the park, where she spent much of her time.

Once, she had been walking along the path in a usual way, then abruptly flapped her arms and chased a flock of pigeons, sending them up in a frenzied, feathered cloud. He couldn’t hear from where he stood, attempting to run the vacuum cleaner, but he thought she was laughing.

Another time, when he was struggling with his taxes, he saw her stop and pick a bunch of flowering weeds that everyone else had simply passed by; later, when he went out to get the mail, he found them sitting on the front steps in an old jam jar full of water. They got dumped into the trash the next day.

Nothing she did seemed particularly adult; at least, not compared to the people Adam met at work or on the bus. But she seemed happy. She interested Adam, and in a way, he wondered if he might have found a kindred spirit—he longed to talk to her, to tell her about the procedure, ask her what she thought. Somehow he felt that she would know what to say. But once he learned the opinion that everyone else in the apartment building seemed to have of her—that she was a crazy old nuisance, no one wanted to spend time with her—he decided that in the interest of fitting in, he should probably avoid her. That was why, even though it made him feel a little guilty, he hadn’t invited her along with everyone else in the building to his house party.

To continue this goal of fitting in, and hoping to squash down the feeling of guilt in the pit of his stomach, he joined the conversation. “Did you see the time she went outside during that huge thunderstorm?” he asked, trying to sound funny, clever. “Where it was all dumping down, but she just stood there looking up into it and catching raindrops on her tongue? She looked like a soaked cat.”

One man laughed, and the others all shook their heads, frowning in resigned disapproval. “So impractical.” “Probably got sick.” “Not an efficient use of time at all.”

“People like her are the reason they started making the procedure mandatory,” said the man with the striped tie. “If people refuse to grow up, where will society be?”

Adam was just in the middle of nodding and agreeing when somebody called his name. “Adam!” He turned, still smiling agreeably, and felt his expression freeze on his face. Brian Craig stood in the kitchen doorway, practically filling it with his broad shoulders. In his hands he held a stuffed dog. Rupert. Brian raised the toy, one eyebrow cocked. “What’s this?”

Adam’s skin went cold. Don’t panic. Don’t panic! “What?” Adam said, forcing a laugh. “Where did that come from?”

“I found it in your room,” Brian said. “I was looking for the bathroom. But when I opened the door, I found this on the bed.” He raised Rupert higher, holding him by one frayed ear.

A few guests in the kitchen tittered nervously. More started gathering to see what was going on. Adam saw the woman from the reception desk peering in, questioning. Adam felt his mind reeling for excuses. “Wow. I just… That isn’t mine, obviously.” He chuckled painfully. “I mean, only a baby would still sleep with a stuffed animal, right?”

“That’s exactly what I was going to say,” Brian said. His mouth was tilted in the beginnings of a smirk.

“But I’m no baby,” Adam forged on, inwardly cringing at how juvenile the words sounded coming from his mouth. “I mean, I got the procedure just like everyone. He—it must have gotten mixed in with my stuff somehow when they delivered it. Crazy.”

“It was sitting on your bed, buddy.” Brian raised an eyebrow. The smirk grew more prominent.

“Yeah, see, I had been sorting through some of my stuff—you know, before everyone got here—and when I found that I was like what? Who put this kid toy in with all my, uh, jazz albums? So I took it out and I was trying to figure out what to do with it and I thought maybe I would give it away to some kid. Because, you know. It’s a kid’s toy.”

Brian turned Rupert over in his hands. “I don’t know, man,” he said. “This thing is pretty beat up.” He held Rupert in the air so everyone could get a good look. “I mean, check it out. What kid would want a junky old toy like this?” He laughed. Some of the guests looked uncomfortable. Others started laughing too, and the noise began to build in the small, cramped kitchen.

Adam’s face was hot. He couldn’t let them know. He’d worked so hard. He had to fix this. “You know what?” he said, and he snatched Rupert from Brian’s hand, fingers sinking into the worn fur. “You’re right. I don’t know what I was thinking. The only place this thing belongs is at the dump.” And then, without taking his eyes off Brian’s face, he took Rupert and tossed him down the garbage chute.

***

Brian tried to continue giving him a hard time after that, but no one else seemed all that interested anymore; it was like they all wanted to pretend that the whole thing hadn’t happened. In the end, Brian only clapped Adam on the shoulder, painfully hard, and said “Nice move, buddy,” before ambling off to chat with his work friends in a corner, loudly discussing the stock market and laughing uproariously at jokes Adam couldn’t begin to understand. The woman from the front desk wouldn’t meet Adam’s eyes.

The rest of the party soon went back to normal, people chatting in their own little groups, laughter breaking out now and then, cracker crumbs falling and getting ground into the rug. Adam knew he should feel relieved that the disaster had been averted, and he tried to go back to mingling, being a good host, but his heart wasn’t in it. All he could think of was Rupert, all alone, plummeting through the cold metal pipes. He would land in the big communal dumpster, get smushed in with all the used tissues, apple cores, everyone else’s junk. Like he was junk.

Adam’s mom had given him Rupert when Adam was only four years old. He had taken that dog with him everywhere; ate with him, climbed trees with him, slept with him. His fur, as matted and worn as it had gotten over the years, still smelled like home.

“…Would love to, but with this economy…”

“…So I told him, look, if I…”

“…A perfect game, they just had to…”

The conversations swirled around Adam. He smiled, laughed, tried to focus, but he couldn’t seem to absorb anything that was said. His stomach hurt. His mind kept replaying the moment when he threw Rupert, the easy toss of his hand, over and over.

Stop it, he told himself. It was just a stupid stuffed animal. An adult wouldn’t be upset. An adult wouldn’t care.

Grab, toss. Grab, toss. The sick, empty feeling in the pit of his stomach hardened.

But I do.

***

Adam was knee-deep in the dumpster, digging through the trash, tie loose around his neck. If people didn’t guess on their own why he had excused himself, he was sure Brian would give them some ideas, but Adam didn’t care anymore. He had to get Rupert back. He tore through the garbage. He wasn’t an adult, he wasn’t, he couldn’t keep pretending, he…

A voice from behind him. “Are you looking for this?”

Adam turned. Standing there in the alleyway was the old woman from the top floor. In her outstretched hand she held Rupert.

“Yes,” Adam said, embarrassment at being seen mingling with relief. “Yes, I am.” He half climbed, half fell out of the dumpster, then stood, a little hesitantly, and waited for her to move to give the toy back. She didn’t.

“It looked well-loved,” she said, rubbing one gnarled thumb over the dog’s head. “I wondered why someone would throw it away.” She peered up at him with quick, bright eyes behind thick glasses. A yellow scarf was tied like a headband around her white poof of hair.

“It was an accident,” Adam said. “A mistake.”

She cocked her head. “So was it a mistake or an accident?”

“Aren’t they the same?”

“Oh, I think they can be very different things.”

She sat down on a set of concrete steps to the left of the dumpster. The one good thing about this location was that it was away from the road, toward the back of the building, so no one could see them. A few straggly weeds grew from the cracks in the pavement. She gestured with the dog for Adam to sit down next to her. As he did, she asked “What’s its name?”

“Rupert.” The word came out before Adam could think about it.

“And what’s your name?”

“Adam.”

“Nice to meet you, Adam. I’m Daisy.” She shook his hand. Her grip was surprisingly strong. “There. Now that we’ve gotten to know each other, how about you tell me what’s going on.”

Adam thought of the crowd of adults in his apartment upstairs. “It’s a long story.”

She looked at him. Bright, piercing eyes. “Tell me.”

And then, it was like the dam that Adam had been building up for months finally broke. He told her everything—about the party, about Brian, about how homesick he got, about how badly he’d messed up his first load of laundry, everything right down to the procedure and how it hadn’t worked. It came pouring out; everything he’d been keeping to himself, trying to deal with it like an adult, trying to convince everyone that he was fine, he knew exactly what he was doing. It felt good to finally tell someone. He was so tired of pretending.

Daisy listened, un-interrupting, the whole way through. Only when Adam finally ran out of steam and slumped on the steps, feeling like he’d just run a marathon, did she speak. “So you say you don’t feel like an adult,” she said.

Adam shook his head. “Not even a little.”

“Well, what is an adult supposed to feel like, then?”

Adam hesitated. This felt like a trick question. “Well… They’re confident. And smart. They understand things way better than I can, and they always know what to do, and they don’t get all worried or scared. Like me.” Adam twisted his fingers together.

“And you figure this adult thing is how everyone else feels, right?”

“Well, yeah.” Adam drew his eyebrows together and glanced at her, tugging his tie further away from his neck. “Don’t they?”

Daisy stroked Rupert thoughtfully. “What would you say,” she said, as casually as if they were discussing the weather, “if I told you that the procedure doesn’t work on anyone?”

At first the words didn’t sink in. Adam stared at her in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Exactly what I said. The procedure doesn’t work. On anyone, not just you.” She gave him a wry, crooked smile. “How does it feel to know that you’re not special?”

Adam frowned, still not understanding. It was like the information couldn’t process. “But… That can’t be right. It does work! Everyone knows that. Everyone else…”

“And how do you know what’s going in everyone else’s heads?”

“Well, they… I just…” Adam found he couldn’t answer.

Daisy chuckled, the wrinkles around her eyes growing even more pronounced. “It’s always the same,” she said. “Everyone thinks that everyone else knows what they’re doing, so they lie to fit in. Everyone’s pretending, and they all think that they’re the only one who’s faking it. Part of growing up is learning that it’s not just you.” She gave him a small whack on the arm. “There. I just gave you a head start.” With a brief, warm smile, she slid Rupert into Adam’s lap and stood up, joints popping.

Adam’s head was spinning. “Wait,” he said. “So… If what you’re saying is true… Does anyone ever figure out what they’re doing? Did you?”

She laughed, leaning back to crack the bones in her spine. “Oh, no. I don’t think anyone does completely. But it does get easier.” She picked up a plastic bag that Adam hadn’t noticed earlier. It was full of glass bottles, clear, green, and blue. “Just keep doing what needs getting done, and do it your way. Don’t worry too much about anyone else. You’ll grow, in your own time. There’s no magic pill.” She chuckled again. “That’s what it was in my day. A pill.” She turned and began walking to the front of the building, the bottles in her bag softly clinking.

Adam’s head was full with these new ideas—he still wasn’t sure yet if he believed any of it—but he still found room to be curious. “What are the bottles for?” he called after her.

“I’m going to hang them from the ceiling,” she called back, not bothering to look back at him. “I like the way the light hits the glass.”

She disappeared around the corner of the building. Adam sat on the steps, holding Rupert, turning things over in his mind. She was probably crazy, he knew. There was no reason why he should trust anything she said.

But what if she was right? What if there wasn’t anything wrong with him?

What if he wasn’t supposed to be someone different?

Adam looked down at the worn, threadbare dog in his hands. “We should probably go back up,” he said, thinking of all the people crowded in his apartment, talking about politics and house remodeling and the state of the weather. “It would be the grown-up thing to do.”

But he didn’t. Not right away. He knew he would have to at some point—he would have to fix his tie, tuck Rupert away, and step back into the adult world. But for right then, he stayed where he was, listening to the hum of the cars passing by on the street, the twittering of the birds from the telephone wire, the sounds of a world that seemed just a little less frightening than before.

#growing up #adulting #adulthood #short story #we're all adults here #i wrote this when i was eighteen #my first semester of college #so i mean i was definitely thinking a lot about this stuff #i'm sorry it's so long but i'm hoping it will help someone else out there who's just as scared of growing up as i was

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mymetaphorwasdrawnfrombees · 6 years ago

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Well apparently all I needed to kick my ass into gear to clean my apartment was dropping an earring into my sink. It was my brand new rainbow earring. I didn't find it (😩😭) but I cleaned my bathroom sink (including the countertop, the cabinet under the sink, running bleach through the drain, and the part of the drain I removed to find the earring). Then I was motivated to clean the kitchen sink and the pile of dishes. I cleaned off the countertops and took out the trash. Removed most of the general clutter from the floor and picked up my dirty laundry. Now I'm sweating like hell and wide awake but hopefully this will help me feel better and start helping with my ant problem. I'll save the vacuuming until tomorrow so I don't piss off all my neighbors 😂

#personal #ranting #feel free to ignore i just felt super productive and proud which has been unsuccessful for about three weeks now #fuck this shit man #i just want to have the motivation and energy to do this shit like a normal adult without waiting until it was this out of hand

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forkanna · 5 years ago

Link

[AO3 LINK] [EF LINK]

NOTE: ¥100 is roughly $0.90 US, for Americans who don't want to have to stop reading and google, which I totally understand. Just approximate ¥100 =$1 for somewhat close conversion purposes.

Also, this is where the story really begins to take off. The setup is complete: let the yuri begin!

CHAPTER FOUR

~ x The Priestess x ~

Less than two hours later, I was sitting nervously on a bed in Dogenzaka. Love Hotel Hill. The last place I ever expected to find myself.

Just in case you don't know about it - which I doubt, Sis - that's where all young couples go when they need a night to themselves. Or just a few hours. Maybe the problem is a messy apartment, maybe it's parents… maybe it's just very thin walls in their building. Either way, love hotels do a lot of business - and that little corner of Shibuya plays host to the highest concentration of them in Tokyo. Finding one that would rent to me for a couple of hours without me already having the second person in tow was the easy part, and only cost me ¥3000.

Especially easy considering my disguise.

The hardest part was actually making the phone call. It took every ounce of courage I had, especially because I would be disguising my voice - which was something I didn't have a lot of experience doing. The memory of the call was still fresh in my mind…

"Housekeeping Service Victoria! What can we do for you today, sir?"

"Um… can I have… a maid?" Did I mention I was also the most nervous I had ever been in my life?

"Sure," the woman on the other end giggled. "That's what we're here for! Do you have a special request, or would you like me to describe a few of our top-rated maids and what services they can help you with?"

"I want Miss K-" That had been a close one. "W-what I mean is, do you have a maid named Becky?"

"Oh! I can certainly transfer you to Becky and see if she's available! One moment please."

Some pleasant, inoffensive harpsichord music played in the background until the transfer connected. The entire time, I had been sweating bullets, practicing making my voice even deeper.

"Hiiii! You've reached Becky! How may I help you today, meow?"

"Two hours. How much?" The less I said, the better.

"That will be ¥10000! Are you sure you need me for two hours, Master? I might be able to get all my work done in half that time!"

"Yes." Her calling me 'master' was already giving me nausea. But I tried to power through; I had to know what she was doing. After all, sweet Ann had given me half the money to request her, so the least I could do was follow through. "Hotel Juliet. Here is the address…"

And that was that. She didn't even waste a second hesitating when I gave her the address of a love hotel; just took it in stride. Which already seemed to be confirming my worst fears, but I told myself that I wouldn't back down or make any more assumptions; that would be even worse than confirming the truth.

So I made the room the tiniest bit messy while I waited for her. Then I sat on the bed, shaking like a leaf and sweating bullets. Right up until I heard the knock at the door.

"Housekeeping!" she called in a sing-song.

"Come in!" She came in. And already, I really wished she hadn't.

My Japanese language teacher stood before me wearing the same frilly black-and-white French maid outfit. What parallel universe did I step into?! Her hair was up in pigtails that hung down to her shoulders - or rather, it was a wig. No way her natural hair was long enough for that. A layer of foundation helped to conceal the very slight signs of ageing, making her passable for 21 or similar. Not that I knew how old she really was.

"It is nice to meet you, Master," she said with a playful curtsy. Really, I didn't think curtsies could be playful, but she did it.

"Good evening," I attempted in my best impression of a male voice.

"My my myyyeeow, but you're so handsome," she buttered me up with a flutter of her mascaraed eyelashes. "I'm such a lucky girl that you'll let me get covered in dust for you!"

"Th-thank you." Was I really handsome, though? My disguise was pretty believable. Ann helped me a lot with it, especially doing the stage makeup that made me look like I had a five o'clock shadow. But it was the big bushy mustache and having my shoulder-length hair stuffed up into fedora that made me look different enough that my teacher might not notice.

She stepped out of her Mary Janes and paced a little closer away from the door. "So! Let's just take care of that silly fee and we can get started right away! Victoria said you would pay in person?"

"Oh! Right, um…" Quick as I could, I fished out ¥10000 and handed it over. A double-shift for her. She pocketed it immediately, not even batting an eye. How many times had she done this?

"Thanks sooooo much! You're the best, Master! What can Becky do for you today?"

"U-um, well… get started on this mess. Then we can relax." That sounded really cheesy and sleazy, but it was the best I could do.

"Of course," she said with a huge wink as she fished a laminated card out of her apron pocket. "You can check this out while I get started! Should only take me a few minutes!"

I accepted it without really thinking, then watched numbly for a moment as she began to tidy up the pillows and sheets I had strewn around the floor. Humming a little tune as she worked. Finally, I decided the card might actually be important and took a look.

Hello, Master! Thank you for using Victoria Housekeeping Service! My name is BECKY ! I'm happy to do whatever you need!

Standard services include:

-Sweeping, mopping, vacuuming, dusting -Making beds/Airing out futons -Laundry -Light cooking -Conversation

Premium services (additional charge):

-Dancing alone ¥500 -Dancing together ¥500 -Lap kitten ¥1000 -Lap pillow ¥1000 -Tucking you in ¥1000 -Stocking removal ¥1000 -Keep stockings ¥5000 -Foot/neck massage ¥1000 -Deep back massage ¥2000 -Health Massage ¥5000 (Note: maid may refuse at any time) -Health Kiss ¥10000 (Note: maid may refuse at any time)

Prohibited requests:

-Pictures -Kissing the maid -Touching the maid without explicit permission, with any part of the client's body or objects under their control

Our maids are very important to Victoria! Please treat me with kindness and care! ❤

That had me reeling. Just that Miss Kawakami had to specify that nobody was allowed to touch her without her permission… this was her life after school was out. Being constantly hit on by men who had her all alone in their houses. She must have spent a lot of time hating herself on the inside. I had to wonder if that contributed to how weary she always looked, beyond simply being tired. But then I saw the fine print at the bottom of the card:

Our employees (maids) are not prostitutes and are not allowed to participate in sexual intercourse with unspecified persons. Violators of this policy will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. All names and locations of clients are noted in our records and employees who do not report in are treated as victims of crime and the clients as the responsible parties until proven otherwise.

Well… at least there was that.

"Soooo," my temporary maid asked as she picked up the condoms I had dumped out of the bedside table drawer - which I now was horrified about since I hadn't even noticed what they were before, "my master seems to have been very messy just for meeee. Was there another reason you called our service?"

The twinkle in her eye when she winked at me said it all: this was a love hotel. Even if I somehow partied so hard in two hours that I trashed the room, no way would I need to call a separate maid when the hotel staff would take care of that.

"L-lonely," I grumbled, trying to seem standoffish.

"Awwww, that's okay. I offer a lot of premium services, but… if you just wanna talk, we can talk. Becky doesn't mind at all." She finished putting them away, then straightened and folded her hands in front of her lap, waiting patiently for my response. Obediently.

"Um…" Glancing back down at the card, I looked up and asked, "K-keep stockings?"

Only when her eyebrows went up did I realise what that meant. But she was already recovering from her brief surprise and saying, "Master, you really want to keep my stockings? I'm so honoured!"

"W-wait, no, I…" Clearing my throat, desperately trying to deepen my voice again, I tried to play it off. "Maybe later. First… what is 'dancing alone'?"

"Ohhh. Oh, I see - you're just trying to decide what you like on the menu. Do you want a little sample?"

At first, I thought she meant a sample of the stockings. Was she going to cut off a piece?! But then she started doing a little sexy dance - nothing extremely lewd, but it definitely made my pulse speed up slightly. Was this really happening? My teacher was dancing for me - like a stripper without the stripping part! But it was over after only about ten seconds, and then she was giggling and covering her mouth.

"Dancing alone… got it. Very nice." As she bowed, an idea suddenly occurred to me. "Tell me about Becky." Maybe if I asked, she would reveal a little bit about herself. Or I would get some made-up story about this character she had invented. Either way, at least she wouldn't be sitting in my lap or any of those things.

"Sure! May I sit here?" When I nodded, she sank down onto the bed next to me, hands folded neatly on her lap. "Do you like Japanese maids, or Western maids?"

"Japanese?"

"Alrighty. So, Becky used to be a little girl whose father liked Western movies. That's how she got such a funny name! And she always dreamed of serving others, making them feel good. She didn't always know how she wanted to do that, but…" She leaned a little closer, and my heart pounded louder in my chest. "Then she one day realised that if she took this job, she would meet Master someday."

"Huh?" Her face was even closer, and my fingers gripped the bedsheet tightly as I fought the instinct to back up. "Me?"

Her nod was completely sure. "My master was going to be the best master. And he would take care of me like I take care of him. That's all Becky ever wanted out of life." Similarly, her smile was warm, and kind. "And I will do whatever I can to make him happy. Okay?"

"Okay. I m-mean… yeah."

"Good!" she sat back with a wider smile, and I let out a sigh of relief. Definitely a made-up story, just to make the client feel gratified in some way. How different listening to that had been from listening to one of her lectures in class; it was like she really was a completely different person.

"Becky," I began as I thought about the list. What was something I could order? I already booked her for two hours, so now I had to find something to do that would fill that time. "What is, um… Health Kiss?"

This shift was obvious, and I could almost reach out and touch the change in atmosphere. Miss Kawakami's eyes dulled for a moment, and she looked through me rather than at me. She took a couple of little breaths. Then a much less genuine smile reappeared on her face - though it might have fooled most of her hornier, less perceptive clientele.

"It's something very special. Becky only gives that to her best Masters, if she can. Sometimes she can't. Is… is that alright with Master?"

"Yes!" I told her right away, eyes wide. "I'm sorry, I… it's okay. I just was curious." Definitely something sexual. That was as much as I really needed to find out, but now I felt awful for asking. My teacher was a Delivery Health professional, even if those services were limited to two sexual acts, apparently.

"Of course. Master can ask whatever he wants!" A little of the genuine cheer started to come back, but she was still shaken. "Well, what can we do? I like talking with Master, but it's okay if Master wants something more from Becky. Even just…" She gestured around. "You don't happen to have a broom, do you?"

"No." I thought frantically. Literally everything on the list of special services intimidated me; how was I supposed to let her sit on my lap? Or massage me?! She would feel my curves underneath the random boy clothes! My finger tapped the stockings. "Are you hot in those?"

Kawakami shrugged a tiny bit. "A little, but I want to look nice for Master. Unless… Master wouldn't mind seeing me without them…?"

"Yes. I… wait." I glanced at the card again, then nodded to myself and fished out another bill. There went my allowance… "Here."

She took it and put it with the rest. None of the standard services besides talking were open to me in a random hotel room, and I was running out of things to say. This was the lesser of the evils; taking off her stockings and the sexy dancing were the only premium ones that didn't involve me, so I thought one of those was probably the smartest move. And at least all this would mean was seeing her legs, and I had seen plenty of girl-legs. It wasn't going to matter to me.

How wrong I was.

"Oooh, I really am hot," she giggled as she began running her hands up and down the outsides of her thighs. "Master had me work so hard to clean the room that now… Becky's so warm…" She bit her bottom lip as she slid her hands up her skirt…

This was unbelievable. Both that I was watching Miss Kawakami strip for me, and that it was affecting me. My heart rate was up, my palms tingling, my head buzzing like it was full of bees. She was a woman! She was my teacher! What on earth was wrong with me?!

Barely an inch of skin became visible beneath the hem of the skirt where it rested above her knees when she fixed me with a level stare. "Master…"

"Huh? What?!" Then I cleared my throat, made my voice more 'butch' again. "I mean… is there a problem?"

"You paid to take them off," she breathed throatily, fluttering her lashes again. "Don't you want to?"

Oh no. I thought I was just paying for her not to be wearing tights anymore. Not for the 'pleasure' of taking them off myself.

"It's alright? I mean… I'll be touching you."

"It's what my Master wants, so of course it is. But I trust you not to let those greedy hands go anywhere!" She admonished me with a wagging finger and a big grin, as if we were joking around; we both knew I wasn't going to do any such things. How laughable!

But there was a pinprick of fear in her eye. She was probably always worried she would get a client who didn't understand the way things worked.

"N-no, ma'am," I said automatically. That did get her blinking a few times, but I quickly followed up with, "This is all I want."

And I leaned down and began to push them off. At first, I tried to do it without really touching her, but I looked stupid and she chuckled a little. It was probably 'cute'. So then I pet along her legs a little before trying again, my grip firmer as I began to pull them down.

"Careful!" she warned me. "You'll tear them if you go too fast. Besides… this is all for you. Take your time! I want Master to have as much fun as he wants with my stockings."

Would this nightmare never end?! Not only did I have to do this now that I paid for it, or else she would figure out something was up, but I had to take my time and 'enjoy myself' - even though what I really wanted was to run screaming from Hotel Juliet as fast as my legs could carry me. Trying to take the safe option, I had gone from watching my teacher strip to stripping my teacher in a matter of seconds. Whoops.

Kawakami did have great legs; clean-shaven and smooth, like she spent a lot of time moisturising. It was easier than I expected to whisper, "Very nice."

"Thank you, Master." She scooted back a little further on the bed as I sat back to get the opaque white fabric moving down along her calves. They were heavily-perfumed, probably just for this reason. And the perfume was nice… but I could catch the vaguest hint of something else underneath the floral scent. Probably her natural scent.

Not that I wanted to think about it. Not that I wanted to do this at all.

"Silly Master," she giggled as I teased the fabric back and forth around her ankles, milking the moment. Now it was more because I didn't know what I was going to do once it was over. Rub my face on them? Pet her legs? Just put them on the bed and lock myself in the bathroom? The last one sounded fantastic at this point.

"Am I?"

"Yes." She booped my nose with her big toe and I couldn't help smiling. Why was that so cute? Why was any of this cute?! "Becky's happy you're having fun with her!"

Though I didn't forget to pitch my voice low, I ended up telling her very honestly, "I guess I am. Wow." Then I refocused and slid the stockings the rest of the way off.

"Oh myyyyy. I guess Master has to see Becky's feet now." Somehow, the tone of her voice made it very clear that she was fishing… because she was. Did she think I had a thing? Her little toes began to 'walk' up the front of my button-up and blazer, heading for my neck, but at a snail's pace. I could stop her very easily. She just wanted to find out what I was curious about and if she could cater to those needs in small ways.

"Guess so." I caught them and held on to keep them from moving higher. "I don't mind at all."

Again, she blinked in surprise, her mood shifting. But she seemed a lot more flattered than fearful this time. "You know… if Master decided he wants a Health Massage after all, Becky could use these…" Her toes flexed in my hands. "If you're patient with me. Becky hasn't tried that before."

"I'll keep that in mind," I hedged, trying not to mentally picture whatever that would be. The idea of sitting here, helping my teacher take off her clothes while she called me 'Master' was already enough to short-circuit my brain; I didn't need additional elements.

But then I was distracted for a second. Kawakami was calculating. I knew that look from you, Sis; when you have a case weighing heavy on your mind, it always happens before you either come up with a new angle for a lead, or work through a puzzle that had been giving you a hard time. Then…

Then she knelt down on the floor, suddenly filling my vision. Glancing down, I could see her cleavage — and forced myself to look back into her chocolatey eyes instead.

"M-miss… Becky…"

"Becky will stop if you want," she whispered very quietly. "But if you can pay the fee… Becky thinks she would like to help her master be more healthy. Take care of… whatever he needs." Her hand fell to pet up and down my side…

That was how the game changed. Suddenly it wasn't just about her body being real, and sensual, in a way no one else's had ever been in my eyes - despite my efforts to prevent that. Now she had awakened mine. And even knowing that it was a specific, intentional, targeted attempt to make me give in and pay her that ¥5000… well, I had never been in a position like this before.

"I don't know," I managed to get out, trying to back up but failing to do it well enough - or quickly enough - to convince her. "I might not… be ready."

"I think you're ready," she whispered as her hand slid up the inside of my thigh. "But don't worry. Becky will do whatever it takes to make you… feel…"

Her hand went higher than I expected that soon after she started. And this, more than anything else, sent pure shock into her wide eyes.

"…healthy?"

To Be Continued…

#Queen Of Temperance #forkanna writes #niijima makoto #kawakami sadayo #persona 5 fanfiction #persona 5 #p5 #p5 fanfic #jess the writer

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satashiiwrites · 3 years ago

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And adding more Eddie whump. With a side of Christopher Diaz is a national Treasure.

Still warnings for first draft. Eddie whumpage. Not a direct continuation of my prior post.

From: Ch 5, Eddie POV Family, Familia, ‘Ohana.

The stress was eating him alive.

The small house had never been so clean since they’d first moved in—maybe even ever.

He’d wiped down the entire kitchen, taken out the trash and recycling. Hand scrubbed the floor. Four loads of laundry done with a fifth in the dryer. Vacuumed the living room. Febreezed the couch within an inch of it’s life so it no longer smelled of sweat and the triple antibiotic ointment Pepa had slathered on the few nicks and cuts on his hands before she’d left last night. All the shelves and pictures were dusted off and he’d even wiped down the insides of the windows by the time he’d have to leave to go pick up Christopher.

Christopher took one look at him and knew.

He tried to be upbeat. “Buck is going to try and call tonight,” he said as he helped Chris into the truck.

Chris’ eyebrows lowered, expression skeptical. “What time?”

“I’m not sure Mijo—Buck didn’t know for sure when he was going to be able to.” That wasn’t a lie exactly. Buck just hadn’t said exactly when but he now knew their schedule.

“He never has time for me anymore,” Chris muttered, eyes downcast.

“Hey,” Eddie curled his finger’s under Chris’ chin, tickling lightly so that Chris looked up at him. “Part of that was… was my fault.”

His son’s lips parted in a pout. “Why would it be your fault?”

The moment of truth. How to tell Chris that he’d… that he’d been the one keeping Buck out. “I forgot to think about what he was going through. I wasn’t there for him like I should have been.”

“Did you say you’re sorry?” Chris asked hesitantly, eyes big and worried.

Eddie sniffled a bit, eyes suddenly watering in the bright sunlight. “I want to—need to say that to him. But just because he and I—that I made a mistake doesn’t mean that he still doesn’t want to talk to you or spend time with you.”

Chris reached out his arms and wrapped them around Eddie. The feeling of his son’s small spindly arms wrapping around him in a tight embrace like he never wanted to let go. Hugging Christopher back, Eddie let himself bury his nose in his son’s curls, eyes falling closed as he fought against crying. He’d been so emotional since last night and the therapy session along with the worry about Buck and everything else was just so much.

He had to hold it together. Keep it in.

Despite his bet efforts, twin tear tracts started running down the sides of his face to dampen Chris’ hair. “Daddy?”

“I’m sorry Buddy,” he whispered.

“Bucky will understand. I’ll talk to him for you.”

“You don’t have to do that mijo.”

Chris pushed away just enough so he could look at him, his cheek smushed into the cream colored henley. “But you’re sad and Bucky always helps us and we help him. He’ll help.”

I seem to like twisting the emotional knife in Eddie’s side this week… so woof. Also this chapter is getting massive. I’ve got Buck’s part done, prolly ¾ of Eddie’s and started on Steve’s. I may also need to do a second moodboard for this fic.

From: Family, Familia, ‘Ohana, Ch 5 Eddie POV

Fandom: 911, H50, SWAT

Pairings: Buddie, McDanno, implied Deacon/Hondo

Other tags: Navy Seal Evan “Buck” Buckley, crossover AU

Warnings: First draft, eddie emotional whump

Fic summary: When one family seems lost another comes back from the past. But does Buck want to return to the past or live in the present? And does his present lead to a future he wants? Only he can answer these questions but Steve at least will be there to support him.

When the session was finally over, Eddie shuffled out to the receptionist’s desk and made an appointment for Friday. Deacon had waited until he was done speaking with the receptionist before getting up and joining him.

Keep reading

#Family familia ‘ohana #911/hawaii 5-0 crossover #buddie #emotional Eddie diaz #navy seal Evan “Buck” Buckley #wip #wip wednesday #first draft #Christopher diaz is a national treasure

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rebeccahpedersen · 6 years ago

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Closing Day Etiquette

TorontoRealtyBlog

I went to the beach with my wife, mother, and 19-month-old daughter on Saturday, and it was great!

I managed to close a condo sale, and write this blog post in my head, as my family wished that I knew how to relax and partake in some semblance of normalcy.

Today I want to talk about what you should do when you sell your house or condo, and lock the door for the very last time.

And how come there’s sand everywhere in my condo? I barely left the beach blanket, how come sand manages to stay with you for a week?!?!

Last week, I wrote a blog post called “Open House Etiquette,” where I laid out ten scenes that take place in an open house, and whether or not they’re offside. Most, as you might assume, I concluded were offside.

Most of the readers concluded that the etiquette lessons I was providing were simply a lesson in common sense.

I can’t say I disagree.

So today, I figured I’d go back to the well, and provide a “To Do” list for when you are closing on your house or condo, and once again, much of this is common sense.

Now before I start, I’d like to go off on a not-so-closely-tied rant about common sense, since that is the topic of the day.

It’s about common sense………….and soccer.

The World Cup is now upon us, and while I think I might have ranted about this four years ago, it bothers me so much, that I’m going to do it again.

Soccer is a beautiful game, with the most passionate and engaged fans on the planet. It truly is the only “global” sport, and the game reaches every single country on the planet.

However, despite all this, I simply can’t respect the sport, or understand how people continue to turn a blind eye to the fact that flopping around on the ground and pretending to be hurt is an accepted part of the game.

Where’s the common sense in that?

Common sense would dictate that with the advances in technology over the past 10-20 years, it’s no longer reasonable for a player to embellish, or straight-up fall over for no reason to try to show the referee that he was hurt.

I played soccer competitively until I was 18-years-old. I was actually pretty good, and a better soccer player than I was a hockey player, which is rare for a Canadian kid. Growing up, our game was very different from the professional game, as I learned when I first watched the World Cup in 1994. I had never seen “diving” before, and watching the game with my uncles – who can remember being led into the school gymnasium in 1972 with the rest of the student body to watch Game 8 of the Summit Series, was eye-opening. With every flop, drop, and roll of the players, my uncles went nuts, yelling at the TV, throwing their hands up in the air, and just being absolutely disgusted with the antics.

24 years later, nothing has changed in the game.

On Monday, I watched about 15 minutes of Brazil versus Mexico, and that is the last soccer I will ever watched.

This “Neymar” fellow, who apparently is a great player (but hardly a role-model or ambassador for the sport, as I’ll explain) was already laying on the ground, clutching his head from all angles, as though he just got a magic bullet through the back of the neck, when a Mexican player, who had enough of Neymar’s nonsense, came over and grabbed the ball from Neymar, touching his foot to Neymar’s ankle in the process.

Neymar then began to roll around like a worm being burned with a lighter.

He was screaming in fake-pain, clutching every part of both of his legs.

And everybody just stood around and watched.

Why isn’t that a red card? Why isn’t that an ejection?

Until a referee has the guts to kick somebody out of the game for that, nothing will ever change.

NHL hockey players put themselves through an all-out war every spring, and when their team is eliminated, we hear about who had a broken wrist and played through it, who had a separated shoulder, and on, and on, and on.

Football players routinely play through real pain, and leave everything out on the field.

Basketball, which isn’t thought of as a “physical sport,” has 7-foot-tall, 280-pound men throwing the full weight of their bodies up in the air, to meet the full weight of another man’s body.

And here we have soccer players, who think it’s “part of the game” to fall over and play dead.

I think it’s shameful, and the only thing worse are the soccer apologists who say not only is it “part of the game,” but that “a player who can fake at the right time and draw a call is a skilled player.”

Ugh. Nonsense.

Imagine if Roger Federer pretended to fall down and sprain his ankle every time Rafael Nadal hit the ball past him?

What if Michael Phelps fake-drowned in the swimming pool to get the race stopped when he was trailing?

WHY IS DIVING PART OF SOCCER?

It lacks common sense.

End. Rant.

~Fin.

Okay, so you’re closing on the house or condo that you just sold, and you’re getting ready for the final days or even hours in the property.

What should you do? What’s the “right thing” to do?

What makes you a Mensch?

Well, let me sum it up for you – it costs ten bucks.

Ten bucks, and you can call yourself a good guy or gal.

Let me explain through the first two points, and then go on a few points more…

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1) Have the property professionally cleaned.

This is a no-brainer, and yet maybe only 40% of sellers clean the property before they leave.

It’s common sense, and dare I say – common decency.

You’re probably asking, “But wait a minute, you just said it costs ten bucks to be a property-selling Mensch! Cleaning a condo costs a hundred bucks!”

True.

But in most cases, you’re moving somewhere, right? And that somewhere is a place you would also like to have cleaned?

This is a classic case of “do unto others,” as spending $80 to clean your condo before you move out, will come back to you in kind when the seller of the house you’re moving into spends $80 to clean that puppy too.

Even if you’re not moving into a new property, like, let’s say you’ve sold your house to move into a tent, it’s still just the right thing to do.

A client of mine closed on a century-old cottage in Cabbagetown, which he and his wife truly ‘cherished’ even before they closed and took possession. When they got the keys, they were shocked the condition in which the house was left. There was garbage on the floors throughout the home, a disgusting fridge, carpets clearly not vacuumed, rotting trash under the front porch, piles of sand in the laundry room, and storage items left behind, ie. some random shelving unit they didn’t throw away.

What was even more disappointing to my client was that the owner of this property owned 4-5 adjacent properties as well, and had owned the block for thirty years. This wasn’t some one-off closing where an overseas seller forgot, or didn’t care enough, to have the property cleaned before closing. This was somebody who still has a horse in the race, or a foot in the door, as an owner of multiple properties in this row of homes. My clients were almost more upset that the owner didn’t respect the house – a unique, timeless, vintage, and historical property.

In the end, unless there’s a clause in your Agreement of Purchase & Sale instructing you to do so, you’re under no obligation to have the property cleaned.

But I don’t think that’s an excuse for decency.

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2) Leave hand-written note, and a bottle of booze.

Here’s where you see the ten bucks at work.

If you spend $85 to have your property cleaned before you move out, and the property you move into has clearly been cleaned for a similar amount of money, then spending $10 on a bottle of booze, and leaving it on the counter with a hand-written note, is how I come up with my ten-dollar figure.

You don’t have to buy Dom Perignon. Just grab a bottle of Yellow Tail Shiraz if need be. Buy the cheap 2018 stuff. Or the 2019 if it’s available!

It’s not so much the taste or quality of the wine, which will likely be re-gifted, but rather the gesture.

A hand-written note, that takes 3-minutes to produce, goes a long, long way, in the eyes and hearts of new buyers.

I recognize that this doesn’t apply to everybody, but if you’ve been living in a house for a few years, I’m sure you respect the property. It’s your home, and now it’s going to be somebody else’s. Ignoring investment-properties, and/or hands-off owners, surely handing the keys over to a new owner has to mean something to you, no?

Clean the property – your home, and leave a cheap bottle of wine, and a few nice words on a piece of paper.

Dear Jenny & Stephen, We hope you love living here as much as we have for the last five years! We’re so sad to be leaving, but knowing that we sold to really good people who will cherish the home as we have, makes it so much easier! All the best in your new home, have a drink and celebrate! Jake & Samantha

It’s not rocket-science, folks!

–

3) Ask if they want the paint cans, case of hardwood flooring, and box of tile.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been on the receiving end of this email:

Hey David! We’re in the house, everything is great so far! Quick question – can you ask the seller if they remember the paint colour in the living room? We’re trying to match that colour through the kitchen and down the hall. Thanks!

Was it “Inner Peach,” or “Apricot Beige?”

Twilight Dreams, Arizona Canyon, Mountain Hideway, Warm Cognac, or Baked Clay?

The possibilities are endless. And we all know that even though we learned to split the atom eighty years ago, we will never be able to “colour match” to the exact specifications of an existing paint colour. To try, is simply to fail.

So just as “common sense” helped us with points #1 and #2, you can see how asking, “What would I want, if I were in their position?” helps with a lot of the other points on our list.

If you have paint cans from 9 months ago when you did a fresh coat of the basement rec-room and upstairs bedroom, ask the buyer if they want them left behind.

I say, “ask the buyer,” because for the first thirteen years of my career, I always told sellers to leave them. And then in early 2017, I actually had a sale not close because of a paint can, and a box of tile. No joke.

My clients had renovated their home shortly before putting it on the market, and I told them the could leave the three paint cans and box of leftover hardwood flooring (I also frequently get asked, “Can you find out what type and style of hardwood was used on the main floor? We put a huge gauge in the wood moving in our sofa, and we want to replace the one board!”) upstairs in the unfinished attic of the house.

The buyers went nuts.

They refused to close until “proof that the leftover garbage had been removed” was provided to the buyer’s lawyer.

The deal closed a day late, and I was shocked.

Live and learn, I guess. This was the only time I had ever seen a buyer have a problem with this, but that will teach me, moving forward.

For the rest of you, think about how this is helpful to you. Have you ever had to replace the flooring in an entire room, because you didn’t know what type of existing flooring was there, and you only needed like three replacement boards?

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4) Leave the appliance manuals behind.

If you have them, leave them.

And strangely, most people have them.

I know for a fact that up above my microwave, next to the vent, there are appliance manuals for all the appliances in my condo. They were up there when I moved in, and seven years later, there they remain.

I don’t know why I wouldn’t throw them out, but I guess I don’t know why I would either.

And for some odd reason, buyers love manuals! I get asked about them all the time, just like paint colours, and types of hardwood flooring.

The most common need for a manual is with respect to warranty, although you could probably just Google the make and model too.

Manuals for electronics, or even assembly instructions can come in handy too for new buyers.

–

5) Don’t play God with the lockbox and key.

Raise your hand if you wanted to visit, or “inspect” the property you purchased in the days leading up the closing, and your real estate agent told you that you can’t, because there’s no key?

This happens a lot.

And while I’d say it’s the agent’s fault a large percentage of the time (ie. either because they want to remove their precious lockbox, or they don’t advise the seller to keep a key on site), it’s also the seller’s fault for not realizing the buyer is entitled to a visit right up until closing.

We often get in these back-and-forth’s with the lawyers, where the buyer is insisting on a visit, the seller says, “I’ve already handed the keys over to my lawyer,” and then the listing agent, seller, and seller’s lawyer all offer, “If you want to do the inspection, fine, but you’ll come pick up the key at the lawyer’s office.”

And rarely, if ever, does a buyer do that.

It’s very, very simple, folks: leave a key in a lockbox right up until the day of closing. In actual fact, this can help facilitate a smoother closing. Once upon a time, the buyer would get the keys from the buyer’s lawyer, via the seller’s lawyer, via the seller. Nowadays, why not just leave the keys in the house, leave one unit or door key in the lockbox, and release the code upon closing?

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6) Forward your mail.

Some of you are thinking, “Who doesn’t do this?”

But I assure you, the answer is, “Many.”

How many times do you think I get this email:

“Hi David, can you kindly ask the new owners to keep our mail aside, and we’ll come pick it up at some point this weekend?”

I have no problem helping my seller-clients; that’s not the issue here. The issue is that I don’t have the contact information for the buyers. I’d have to go through their buyer-agent, and you can see how one more step makes failure or confusion more likely.

I recently sold a house to buyers, and I got this email from the listing agent:

“Hi David, my clients have ordered something from Amazon.ca to the house and they’d like to come pick it up. They won’t be in the city until the weekend, so we’re hoping your clients can take it inside and keep it for them until then? Thanks!”

So first of all, why didn’t they update their address on Amazon.ca?

But more importantly, why wouldn’t they think this is an imposition?

I know I’m talked about being a Mensch, and “doing unto others” in the sections above, but this is something different. This is asking others to make up for your laziness, because you didn’t call Canada post and have your mail forwarded.

Time and time again, I find myself facilitating the collection and delivery of mail for buyers and sellers alike.

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7) Cancel the alarm system, and/or other contracts and services.

This cuts both ways.

The nice thing to do, as with the paint cans, is to ask the buyer if they’d like to take over your alarm system monitoring, so that they can save whatever setup fee might exist.

Having said that, the seller should cancel all services and contracts associated with the house.

I had a client close on a house and receive a landscaping bill.

The sellers had moved out 6 weeks before the deal closed, but didn’t tell the landscaping company, who continued to mow the lawn. When the new owners moved in, the landscaping company continued to mow the lawn, and eventually sent them a bill – with the balance owing.

Now there are a few problems here, and questions as well.

Is it the responsibility of the sellers to pay for lawn care when they’ve moved out? Maybe, but probably not. It would be nice for them to keep up the maintenance of their asset right up until closing, and not simply let the grass go brown. But either way, if they do have the landscaper show up for work, they’re supposed to pay for it; not just dump it on the new owner.

Secondly, if the landscaping company continues to mow the lawn, after closing, are the new buyers on the hook? Legally, no. Practically, yes.

The sellers should have thought of this, just as any seller should think about the alarm system, or cable and internet, and ensure that they’ve notified Toronto Water, Hydro, Enbridge Gas, et al about the change in ownership.

–

Geez, this thing got really long, really fast.

Maybe my epic soccer rant had something to do with that…

The name of the game today, once again, is “common sense.”

All seven of these points relate back to some level of common sense, and yet the issues arising therein are, themselves, extremely common.

Just as the saying goes: “The simplest answer is usually correct,” I might also add that “The most common problems arise from the least-important issues.”

I feel like having to tell somebody to pay $80 to clean their $750,000 condo before closing is a wasted breath, but as you read above, it usually isn’t…

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