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Signs Your Washing Machine Needs Repair and Where to Get Help in Gurgaon
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A washing machine is one of the most important appliances in any household, making laundry tasks more manageable and efficient. However, like any other machine, it can develop issues over time. Recognizing the signs that your washing machine needs repair can save you from a complete breakdown and costly replacements. Here are some common signs that indicate your washing machine needs professional attention and where to get help in Gurgaon.
1. Unusual Noises
One of the most noticeable signs that your washing machine needs repair is unusual noises:
Grinding or Squeaking: These noises could indicate a problem with the drum bearings, drive belts, or motor.
Thumping or Banging: This usually means the machine is unbalanced, which can be due to worn shock absorbers or a broken suspension system.
2. Excessive Vibration
While some vibration is normal, excessive shaking or moving during the spin cycle can be a sign of:
Unbalanced Load: Ensuring the load is evenly distributed can sometimes resolve this issue.
Worn Dampers: These components help to absorb the shock and vibration; if worn out, they need to be replaced.
3. Water Leaks
Water leaking from your washing machine is a clear sign that something is wrong:
Hose Issues: Check for cracks or loose connections in the inlet and drain hoses.
Door Seal Problems: A damaged or worn-out door seal can cause leaks during the wash cycle.
4. Failure to Start
If your washing machine fails to start, there could be several underlying issues:
Power Supply Problems: Ensure the machine is properly plugged in and the circuit breaker hasn’t tripped.
Faulty Lid Switch: For top-loading machines, the lid switch may be defective.
Control Board Issues: A malfunctioning control board can prevent the machine from starting.
5. Incomplete Cycles
If your washing machine stops mid-cycle or doesn't complete a cycle, it may be due to:
Timer or Control Panel Malfunctions: Issues with these components can interrupt the wash cycle.
Drainage Problems: If the machine can’t drain properly, it might halt the cycle to prevent flooding.
6. Water Doesn’t Fill or Drain Properly
Problems with water filling or draining can be caused by:
Clogged Filters: The filters may be blocked, preventing water from entering or exiting the machine.
Faulty Pumps: The pump may be malfunctioning, which can affect water flow.
7. Clothes Come Out Soaking Wet
If your clothes are still soaking wet after the spin cycle, it indicates:
Spin Cycle Issues: The machine may not be spinning properly due to a belt or motor problem.
Drainage Problems: Water not draining completely can also leave clothes wet.
Where to Get Help in Gurgaon
When you notice any of these signs, it’s essential to seek professional help to avoid further damage to your washing machine. Here are some reliable washing machine repair services in Gurgaon:
1. Repairo
Repairo is known for its quick and reliable appliance repair services in Gurgaon. Their experienced technicians can diagnose and fix a wide range of washing machine issues, ensuring your appliance is back in working order promptly.
2. Urban Company (formerly UrbanClap)
Urban Company offers comprehensive home services, including washing machine repair. Their certified professionals provide efficient and high-quality repair services, backed by positive customer reviews.
3. Lifeasy
Lifeasy provides hassle-free repair services for various home appliances, including washing machines. They offer transparent pricing, experienced technicians, and a focus on customer satisfaction.
4. Justdial
Justdial is a platform that connects you with numerous repair service providers in Gurgaon. You can compare different options, read customer reviews, and choose the best service for your needs.
5. Sulekha
Sulekha offers a network of verified washing machine repair professionals in Gurgaon. You can check ratings, read reviews, and get quotes to make an informed decision.
Tips for Choosing the Right Repair Service
When selecting a repair service, keep the following tips in mind:
Check Reviews and Ratings: Look for positive customer feedback to gauge the quality of the service.
Verify Experience and Certification: Ensure the technicians are certified and have experience repairing washing machines.
Compare Pricing: Request quotes from multiple service providers to compare pricing and services offered.
Look for Warranties: Choose a service that offers warranties on repairs and parts for added peace of mind.
ConclusionRecognizing the signs that your washing machine needs repair can prevent further damage and ensure your appliance runs smoothly for years to come. If you encounter any issues, don’t hesitate to contact a professional repair service. In Gurgaon, reputable services like Repairo, Urban Company, and Lifeasy offer expert solutions for washing machine repair in Gurgaon to keep your appliance in top condition. By choosing the right repair service and addressing problems promptly, you can avoid the inconvenience of a broken washing machine and ensure your laundry tasks remain hassle-free. Keep an eye on your appliance’s performance and seek professional help when needed to enjoy the convenience of a well-functioning washing machine.
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mredsdryernm · 26 days ago
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At Mr. Ed’s Dryer Repair Service, we understand the importance of a fully functional dryer in your home. That’s why we provide expert Gas Dryer Repair in Albuquerque NM, catering to a wide range of issues like pilot light problems, worn-out parts, and gas supply interruptions. Our technicians are factory-trained and committed to providing exceptional service.
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Other Service We Provide:
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jjenthusee · 3 months ago
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Subtle Stitches
jason todd x reader
A/N: i had an idea then it kinda spiraled? idk if in a good or bad way but i kept adding more and more. i’m also so exhausted from day to day life so this is to comfort myself HAHAHA so ENJOY :D
Tags: fluff, domestic jason, silly jason, toxic jason if u squint but i’m blind to that 😌 and slight angst but all is well :)
You tiredly started putting clothes in the washer, throwing mixed pieces of clothing from your pile and Jason’s pile.
Colors were first, a mixture of fabrics placed in the machine.
After emptying the laundry basket, you remembered the shirt you threw on the floor from this morning. A bad habit you’ve started to pick up as you rushed to get to work on time.
Unsure of the precise outfit you wanted, multiple changes, then changing back into the original outfit, it gave you a pile of clothes thrown last minute.
You grabbed the shirt off the floor.
It wasn’t dirty necessarily, but now you wanted to wash it.
On your way back from the bathroom, you noticed a spare sock thrown sadly outside the door.
Then a completely different lone sock in your bedroom and a pair of pants you left to air-dry, but never bothered to put away still on the dining chair.
You gotta work on this bad habit you’ve developed, but after working all day and getting home late, you hadn’t been able to give yourself any down time, let alone complete any chores.
You hadn’t even seen Jason. Only giving him quick morning forehead kisses before work as he sleepily tried to cling onto your waist.
Wrapping a strong arm around you, locking you permanently to his side.
You had no idea how his sheer strength kept you in place as he lazily laid on the bed, but after much convincing that you had to fulfill your portion of the rent and several kisses to Jason’s face, did he finally let you go.
As much as it pained you to leave, you loved the wrinkled clothes left by his adamance to throw you back on the mattress next to him.
It felt like every weekday, he was getting closer to convincing you to drop everything, ditch the city, go off-grid and live deep in the woods surviving off berries and spring water, but alas you silently trudged yourself to the bus stop.
You left like a soldier going off to war, sworn to duty while their partner, like Jason, held their tears and waved a white handkerchief as the city bus wisped you away to 8+ hours of labor.
Both of your schedules, opposite of one another, never aligned. Jason swung the city in the peak of the night, under the stars and amongst the ongoing sirens, but you had the most torturous criminal in all of Gotham, a 9-5. It waited for you, forbade you from staying out too late.
You once joked to Jason over dinner that he should leave a small token of…warning to your boss, for a needed day off, but when Jason didn’t laugh and comfort you like you expected, you made sure to make him pinky promise he wouldn’t physically or mentally harm your boss.
When he wouldn’t wrap his pinky with yours, you refused to eat the warm meal he cooked. After dismissing every possible way he could make your boss beg, he reluctantly sworn the great promise of pinkies to not do any permanent harm in favor of you eating.
With a worrisome look, you took slow bites, watching Jason act like he didn’t create new torture tactics at a family dining table.
After another additional verbal reassurance from the man and an unconvincing sigh, he only agreed that if you promised to never miss a goodbye kiss before work, then he would follow any rule you set.
So far, no broken promises and no mass emails about a sudden company shut down due to threats, so it was a win?
Even then, they could force you to work remote, so unless Jason unrelentingly asks Tim to shut down all power and service in the area, you still had to be a working citizen.
The commute to and from work already took up most of your minimal free time, so it felt like you woke up to work, ate a quick meal, then fell asleep to wait for the next work day.
Luckily in the rare moments, Jason got to get a quick kiss on your shoulder before going out for patrol. Usually you were passed out on the couch, but with a beautifully handwritten note from your lover, you woke up on the bed thanks to Jason carrying you.
You needed a Jason recharge soon, but that had to be until the weekend and for work to even out before you got that luxury.
While the clothes were being washed, you started a small water to clean the dishes.
Soapy bubbles coating your hands as you washed the utensils that Jason used to make you daily lunches.
You almost cry at every lunch, adoring the beautiful meal that graced you, made with the scarred and gentle hands of Jason.
With the last pot placed on the drying rack, you sent one last text for the night.
You: clothes in the wash, was gonna put them in the dryer but i’m frog blinking and i need to sleep \(o-0)/
jay: ok, got the dishes when i get back :)
You: already washed them :(((
jay: how dare u be a responsible adult
You: i’ll repent 😔
jay: 12 years in the slammer, community service, and a lunch date with me on saturday
You: yes sir 🫡 i promise to reduce my sentence for good behavior
As you finished brushing your teeth, you noticed Jason’s jacket thrown on the couch.
You were surprised he didn’t take it out on patrol, but after the last stabbing incident there were relatively large holes in the sleeves and pocket.
You were grateful that most of the damage was in the jacket and not Jason, but he still kept it.
After looking at its sad state, you offered to shop for a new jacket together, but Jason was reluctant. Saying it could be fixed.
With a small smile, you grabbed the coat, grabbing your mending kit that you got for free from a hotel you stayed at a while back.
You messily stitched the first hole, but after finding the right pace, muscle memory kicked in and you finished up the stitching.
Not the best work, but you hoped the dark color would hide any mishaps and make it seamless.
When the handiwork was done, you left the jacket as you saw it and went to bed.
When work eased up, you almost got to see Jason for a full evening.
You cuddled on the couch, your legs over his, leaning on the pillows.
Engrossed in the movie, but time for patrol was near and Jason had to move your legs and get up to get his gear on.
When he reappeared from the bedroom, you saw the mended jacket back on his broad shoulders.
With a quick kiss goodbye, a quiet shut from the window, you finished the movie. Happy that you managed to save the jacket that Jason refused to let go.
After a couple nights, work was tougher on your body than usual and the jacket was back on the couch. A new tear on the sleeve that you closed up.
The several patchwork was starting to concern you.
You have to convince him that he needed a new jacket. One without tears preferably.
“Jay, I’m running out of thread. I think it’s time.” You tiredly held the worn out jacket in your lap. Poking the needle into the fabric, careful to not prick yourself.
“No, it’s still got some life. Since you’ve sewn it, it’s never looked better.” Jay washed the dishes.
“I’ve heard Roy ask if you tried to sew it yourself. I know it’s not the best work, but even you’re more meticulous than I am.” You knotted the end of the thread, cutting off the excess.
“Roy can’t even tie his shoes, so don’t listen to him.” Jason turned on the faucet, letting the water flow into the sink.
“I know we’re both busy, but I can run to the store after work to buy you one. I saw a really nice one that would look great, It’s not far and I can take the next bus—“ You tried to reason.
“Absolutely not, you already know how I feel about you taking that route so late.” Jason scrubbed the plate.
“I’ll go with a coworker, we do leave in groups anyway. It’s just once—“ You sighed, folding the jacket.
“No, this isn’t something you can convince me on.” Jason placed the glass plate down, a little more harshly than he wanted, but he grabbed a mug without stopping. “I have to meet Babs and Steph to talk about the recon tomorrow, I won’t be in the area.” Sternness filled Jason’s voice, unconvinced.
“Jason, we’ve talked about this, I can go—“
“I don’t want to risk it.” Jason held the cup, frustration in his eyes as he stared it down.
“But, I want to do this for you. We haven’t—“ You pushed, exhaustion making your patience thin.
“I said no!” Jason raised voice, shutting yours down.
The mug shattered in the sink. Jason flinched as if even he was shocked by his own reaction.
The faucet continuously ran water as all noise surrounding you stopped. Like it was inconsiderate to the tension that built in your apartment.
You sat for a moment before walking over to shut the water off.
“I’m—I’m so—“ Jason fumbled.
You looked into the sink, at the aftermath of the pieces of the mug that had snipped his fingers.
You calmly grabbed the sponge soaking up Jason’s blood as he stood there, letting you maneuver his body like a puppet.
You can rinse and sanitize the dishes later, but you grabbed a kitchen towel. Letting Jason sit at the dining table as you patched him up.
“I’m not mad, Jay. I was just surprised.” You disinfected his cuts, no reaction from Jason, probably from years of experienced pain. Years of trying to patch himself up.
It saddened you.
You didn’t realize the privilege of hating the pain of paper cuts and not stab wounds. Hating the sting of alcohol, not digging out bullets out of your skin.
“I know we haven’t seen each other and I’ve been missing you.” You cleaned up the miscellaneous bandage wrappers and sat in front of Jason. “But, you’re more stubborn than usual about this new jacket.”
You looked at Jason who was avoiding your eyes, rubbing at the bandages covering his skin.
With a sigh, he reached for your hand. A silent reassurance as he found the words.
“I’ve missed you too. That jacket—it’s been with me since I’ve met you. I’ve had it too long to just get rid of it.” He admitted, fluffy hair drooping the more he talked.
He continued.
“It’s just…hard to part with it. When I saw the new stitches, it felt good that a part of you was with me on patrol. We’ve also been so busy, I can only see you for a split second before one of us leaves. I know you wanna replace it, but…I need it.” Jason rubbed at your knuckles.
You put your hands on top of Jason’s, reciprocating the rubs as you listened.
“I didn’t know.” You gazed up to Jason, who hung his head down.
Vulnerability was a step that both of you had to learn. You focused too much on Jason, constantly forgetting about your own feelings and Jason still needed help in rightfully expressing his emotions.
You had barely made time to enjoy each other and despite living with one another, you weren’t updated in each other’s lives.
“I’m sorry.” You pecked Jason’s hands.
“Why are you apologizing? I raised my voice and broke a cup.” Jason leaned forward, hesitantly bringing his face and body closer to yours.
You stayed still, not to frighten his advances, to tell him it was okay.
“I would’ve known about this if I had made time for us. I’ve been so focused on work that I haven’t been able to even do simple chores.” You touched your forehead to Jason’s. “I’m so tired. I just want to sleep in next to you and go for a lunch date. But even that’s asking for too much, I guess.”
The vulnerability covered the two of you in a single blanket. Protecting and helping both of you finally be honest.
“No, no, don’t apologize for that. I was ready to help you in any way I could.” Jason kissed your eyelids as you closed them, the exhaustion slowly easing from your bones as you kept contact with him.
He held your face, hands wrapped in bandages.
“All I ask is you take care of yourself.” Jason whispered. Watching your lips, watching your eyes.
“All I need is my Jason recharge. I’m on empty.” You lightly chuckled, sleepiness apparent in your voice.
“I think I could spare some time.” Jason teased, kissing the corner of your lips.
You nudged his shoulder playfully.
“Shut up and kiss—.” You breathlessly pulled at Jason’s shirt.
Before you could even finish your request, Jason leaned in, using his thumb to rest on your chin, opening your mouth for him.
The rhythm was slow.
Jason always started like that, letting you control how far and how soon you wanted him.
Your face heated, letting feeling take over.
Your grip on his shirt got tighter.
Jason pulled your chair closer.
When it wasn’t close enough, he grabbed you to sit on his lap.
Effortlessly, you rested yourself on his thighs, making your body flush with his.
Grabbing at the roots of his hair, you tried to inhale his hums.
Your imaginary battery was slowly filling, maybe you would need to take this a step further for a full recharge.
As Jason’s grip got stronger on your skin, your breaths louder, and the more you pulled at his hair, he got more restless.
In one lift, Jason got you off his lap, laying you onto the dining table.
He leaned his body between your legs.
You watched his beautiful flush face as he lifted your shirt, his hands just as flushed as he kissed down your abdomen.
“Jay, I think I’m too tired to help you.” You breath hitched.
“Relax, this is my recharge too.” Jason leaned his cheek on the inside of your thighs, kissing the sensitive skin before a call rung from his phone.
It vibrated repeatedly as Jason continued to keep his attention on you.
When the ringing stopped, you could focus again.
Then the same ringtone started again as Jason’s face scrunched.
“Dammit, I’m gonna kill whoever—“ Jason reluctantly walked away from the table you laid on.
“You better be on the verge of dying, so I can go over there and finish the job, Dickwad.” Jason watched you sit up.
Another huff came out of his mouth as he was not pleased that he wasn’t getting his alone time with you.
Then your phone rung from the chair you were previously on.
Your stupid boss had decided to call about some other task he thought was too important for him.
With reluctance, you answered.
Both of you were disappointedly looking at each other as you were both occupied.
When both calls ended, you silently stared at each other.
You sat on the edge of the table and Jason stood in front of you.
He offered you a hand and you slowly fell into Jason. Burying your face into his chest.
“Sadly, we’re both needed somewhere. I think we need to take a rain check.”
“Can’t believe I have to set up an appointment to get laid.” Jason sighed into you.
You laughed out loud.
“Maybe if a miracle happened tomorrow, but we have the weekend.” You kissed Jason one last time.
The next morning, you woke up passed your alarm. Jason’s muscular arms and his even breaths were too soothing that it blocked out the repeated ringing.
The bus was arriving in 15 minutes.
You rushed outta bed, grabbing your keys, putting on mismatching socks on the floor.
Jason lazily perched his head up at all your movement, absently watching you run around.
“Sweethe—“ He called out.
“Shit, did I finish the report?” You ran to grab your laptop.
“My lo—“
“My watch! Crap, I didn’t iron my shirt for the meeting today.” You grabbed your bag.
“What about—“ Jason tried to interrupt.
“I gotta go, but let’s eat out tonight? I’ll call you when I get off.” You ran out the door, blowing air kisses to Jason.
You barely managed to get on the bus before the doors shut and you were scrambling to get yourself in a seat.
After a deep breath, you were gonna make it to work.
A late start, but you made it. You stepped off the bus, walking to the large building that made your jaw drop the first time you laid eyes on it, but it didn’t seem all that spectacular after a couple years of seeing it.
As you were walking, several people were rushing out the building.
Crowds walking out in large strides, taking what they could as papers fumbled out the doors.
You watched in confusion.
What sick villain was wreaking havoc on your building at eight in the morning?
You were about to turn around when your coworker bumped into you.
“Thank goodness you’re out. I was worried when I couldn’t find you.” They grabbed your arm, giving you a once over as you stood there.
“What happened?” You looked up at the building. It seemed fine.
“We gotta go, they got the boss and I don’t wanna be next.” Your coworker pushed you across the street, trying to get you farther from the sea of people shoving you outta the way.
“What?”
“I don’t know, but it all happened so fast, then all the alarms started and ya know when shit starts happening you gotta get outta there. One moment I was making scans, then the boss’ computer flew right by head and his glass walls were shattering. I saw the back of a big red guy and I just got this job, so I ran. I only need to see the back of Nightwing, if you know what I mean—“ You coworker rambled.
You stopped in your tracks, eyes widening at the realization.
“That son of a—“ You raised your voice before your phone rung from your pocket.
You angrily tapped the accept button before you were yelling at the invisible person, yanking your arm out of your coworkers.
“You crazy motherfucker—“ You swerved your body back toward the building, tension built up in your bones that you could only angrily walk back to the building in chaos.
Tons of employees dodging you.
“You forgot your lunch, so I decided to deliver it myself. I hope I got the right floor—“ Jason sung into the phone, walking past a suited man kneeling on the floor, glass digging into his knees.
“What are you doing?!” You marched to the front entrance, gripping your phone as you shoved the doors open.
Jason walked over to sit in the swivel chair, pushing himself to spin once and throw his boots on the overpriced desk. Not caring about dirtying the papers on it.
“Don’t worry, my love. We all make mistakes. We can all be forgetful.”
“What?!” You pushed the elevator button, waiting for the doors to open, but the wait only made you angrier.
“You broke a promise, sweetheart.” Jason spun a pen on his finger, letting gravity and motion balance the pen perfectly.
“What are you talking about.” You entered the elevator and pushed the button for your floor.
“You can’t even remember.” Jason glanced over to your boss still on the floor, motioning with his hands dramatically pointing to the phone. “What am I going to do? This is ridiculous, right?”
Despite your boss not being able to hear the conversation, he fearfully nodded his head quickly, not quite understanding why the Red Hood made a visit in broad daylight. Sweat beating on his forehead.
As Jason counted the elevator rings for every floor you passed, he smiled while on you stayed on the line.
Covering the bottom half of the phone, Jason looked at your boss, his helmet staring down the man.
“Beat it.” Jason commanded, not an ounce of the sweet playfulness he spoke with before.
Your boss was frozen, scared and confused as he looked back at the vigilante sitting in his chair.
In one motion, Jason nodded at the door, never saying another word as your boss ran out the door, throwing his body into the emergency exit stairwell, hopping down the steps.
Now with the man gone, Jason strolled to the elevator.
“You better be gone when I get there Jason Peter Todd—“ As soon as the elevator doors opened, Jason grabbed you, swinging you into his arms as he lifted his helmet and passionately kissed you in the aftermath he created.
In one woozy turn, you were back on your feet as you tried to process everything.
“Now that you fulfilled your promise, I would tell you to have a nice day at work, but, well…” Jason glanced around the office floor. Some lights burnt out and others flickered. You watched as glass littered the floor and chairs were thrown as everyone fled their way out. “You might be out for a couple days. The food is probably cold anyway, so let’s go out for lunch instead.” Jason grabbed you by your waist as he led you to a window he smashed open.
He smugly took your hand and swung your arms as he spoke, overjoyed.
“Watch your step, please.”
“You’re so dead when we get home.” You grabbed onto his arm, afraid to look out the edge of the building.
“What’s another death?” Jason held you tightly to his side. “If it’s by your hands, I’d face death any day.” He looked at you through the red helmet, his words modulated. It would’ve been swoon worthy if he didn’t just evacuate your entire work building, probably humiliated your boss, and costed you your job.
“I’m for sure fired.” You hit your head against Jason’s chest plate.
“Tim wiped all the service and power a mile out. Cameras stopped working before I even stepped in here. I tampered with the security myself, a personal touch. It’s like you weren’t even here, besides your boss isn’t so innocent, but Dick’s got him, he owes me for last night.” Jason’s gloves rested on your sides.
“How did you even convince him?” You couldn’t believe Jason would even ask for the help.
“Blackmail.”
You didn’t believe a second of anything that came out of Jason’s mouth.
After you gave a blank face to Jason, his helmet was looking back at you until he finally broke.
“Fine, it was a humiliating picture of Bruce I’ve kept for the perfect opportunity.”
“You risked all that because I forgot a goodbye kiss?” You raised an eyebrow.
“That you promised.” Jason emphasized.
You could only laugh out of disbelief.
“Fair enough.” You looked out toward the blue sky, wind picking up against your face at this height. “Your banned from any kisses for a week for this.”
“Sorry, wind is picking up!” Jason fell out the window with you in his arms. Grappling hook dragging your bodies across the city.
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attapullman · 7 months ago
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Robert's Laundry Service | Neighbor!Robert "Bob" Floyd
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Summary: A broken washing machine and a clogged bathroom sink lead you and Robert to explore the next part of your secret relationship.
Word Count: 3.3k
Warnings: Bob Floyd x afab!reader, no use of pronouns, no y/n, a little angsty, very smutty, 18+ ONLY as always, unprotected PinV, use of sex toys, language, a lot of cum mentions, neighbor!Bob being perfect as usual
A Note From Mo: Did anyone else miss neighbor!Bob? He needed some love, and that's what he's getting today! Thank you to @roosterforme for inspiring this idea that I took entirely too far. If anyone needs me, I'm going to be hoping that he moves into the empty apartment next to mine 🙏 p.s. this takes place before Stupid White Car
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It’s hard to pay attention to the bad diagnosis he’s giving when your visual is just those threadbare grey sweats. Painted to his strong thighs, poking out from behind the washer like a personal serving of eye candy. You’re meant to be shining the flash light, but you long abandoned that task in favor of the view.
“…you can borrow mine in the meantime. I’ll call a guy Monday.”
Reluctantly, you draw your eyes from his lower half. Just as his words sink in.
“It’s broken?!”
Robert gives you a kindly amused grin. “Sweetheart, did you hear anything I’ve been saying?”
You grace him with a sheepish smile, caught red-handed.
“The tube disconnected from the wall and needs to be properly - professionally - connected before you use it again. I know it’s not the same, but you can do laundry at mine until someone comes out. I can make you tea and we can watch that undercover dating show you like?” His soft smile is as sweet as his offer.
You narrow your eyes at him playfully. “Hey now, you like that show too.”
Those cornflower blues shine, glad you’re not objecting. “I do, but only because it’s funny when you yell at the drama.”
He wraps his arm around your waist and guides you away from the laundry, back to where the two of you had been trying to decide on takeout over a game of checkers. Allowing him to drag you down to the couch, hips colliding into the soft fabric, you resume a lovely afternoon with Robert. 
Robert, your helpful Mr. Fix It neighbor. And maybe, one day, your boyfriend.
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Robert lending you his laundry room for the weekend is so generous. It feels a bit silly carrying your delicates through his back yard (especially when you know a few pairs are crusty from your…sleepovers) but you’ll take his selfless offer if it means clean laundry and a lovely afternoon spent with him. 
As you work your way past the kitchen, you’re caught off-guard once again by how charming his home is. The little bits of personality, the framed photographs and handmade trinkets. While you know he can’t get any more perfect, his home makes a compelling argument.
The laundry room is fairly unremarkable - washer, dryer, large farmhouse sink for the unsavory jobs too nasty for the kitchen - but you do like his view of the neighborhood from the window. You’re almost curious if anyone will walk by and notice you standing in the wrong house, lacy balconette bra in hand.
Already regretting the amount of folded laundry you’re going to have to haul back through the gate after this, you begin prepping a load of lace and satin. Brainstorming ways to expedite the process, you overshoot pouring detergent into the water-filled drum and spill the cobalt goo all over your hand. Shit.
You rush over to the sink, subjecting yourself to freezing water to wash the detergent off your fingers. Once sufficiently clean, you reach for a cloth to dry off. And that’s when you see it. 
Oh. You’ve never seen one in real life before, just in porn and the odd naughty ad while scrolling. It almost feels as if you’re being punk’d. Like if you sliced through it, it would actually be cake.
A cock ring, soft silicone and all. Casually sitting on the sideboard, freshly cleaned.
Every muscle in your body freezes as the implications of seeing something so private wash over you. Something meant between lovers that you had never seen in the weeks since that fateful night you let him in for a cup of tea. 
It’s been a few days since you had last slept over. A scary sinking feeling fills your gut…was there someone else? 
You had been so focused on the neighborhood not knowing. Staying in your homes, using the back gate. It wasn’t like you had ever verbalized your intentions with him. You couldn’t blame him for thinking the two of you as casual, as much as it twisted your insides.
As your thoughts spiral, there’s motion in the doorway and Robert is suddenly there, big shoulders and a soft smile on his face at seeing you in his space. Exactly where he wants you.
“You get it going in here? Find the detergent okay?”
Those kind cobalt eyes follow your gaze to the sink, where you can’t break your focus on the dark silicone device. The one he meant to put away before you came over. His cheeks flush as he steps into the room to attempt to explain why he has something so private sitting out - in his laundry room of all places.
But as he goes to open his mouth, you cut him off. “You don’t have to explain. I don’t need to know everything in your….sex life. You’re obviously welcome to do whatever you like in the privacy of your home.”
His eyebrows raise, unsure why you seem so upset when the only issue is a clogged sink in the ensuite last night. 
You edge around him, desperate to get out of this space - his space - away from everything that reminds you of him as he figuratively slips through your fingers. “We never discussed being exclusive, so I get it.”
“What are you-?”
Tears threaten to spill over as he follows you toward his back door. “But if I’m being honest, I’m not sure I’m comfortable with us seeing other people, so-”
Robert’s eyes bug out of his head. Seeing other people? His blood pressure rises as the dots connect behind those pretty eyes, and suddenly he’s racing to cut you off. You’re faster than you look, but before you can turn the handle of the back door he’s plastered his body against the wood, effectively blocking you from leaving.
The pain behind your eyes begs him to move, to let you run back to the safety of your own home so you can cry and despair over not locking him down sooner. Of course there’s someone else. Of course you’re not the only one who can see how great Robert Floyd is.
“Robert, I need to leave. I need a moment alone. Please.”
But he holds his ground. The second you walk through that door he knows he’s lost you. His eyes are cautious behind those thick lenses, wanting to obey your wishes but the risk of losing you making every nerve stand on end. Whatever is wrong, he can fix this. He will fix it.
“Sweetheart.” His fingers reach into the space between you, hand clenching into a fist when he’s unsure whether he’s allowed to touch you right now. “There isn’t anyone else. I promise, you’re…you’re the only one.”
You eye him hesitantly, wanting to believe his words. But that cock ring has never made an appearance in your sleepovers. Never once brought up when he’s standing between your parted thighs, lips slotted against yours.
“I really want to believe you, I do. But why else would you be cleaning your, erm, toy?” You can’t bring yourself to say cock ring without bursting into frustrated tears.
It’s now that the fight within him drops, and immediately his shoulders release. Embarrassment floods his features and he drops his gaze, no longer able to look you in the eye. This is not how he anticipated bringing this dynamic into your relationship.
“That…it’s…I-I use it when I’m alone. I like to, uh, edge myself.”
His cheeks are flaming and the burning despair inside you dissipates into intrigue. A flame traipses through your abdomen, curious and hungry.
“You use it…alone?”
He desperately nods, tentatively reaching out to grasp your hands, needing to feel you. Those thick, strong fingers rub against your knuckles soothingly. Despite the whiplash of emotions conflicting inside you, his presence immediately soothes and you lean into his touch.
“The nights you can’t come over…I prefer to save my orgasms for you. Only you.”
His blush reflects yours as you look into those ocean-deep eyes, the desperation clear across his features. He’s being honest, laying out every last secret he’s got to keep you here.
“So, there’s no one else?” Your voice feels so small, barely a whisper in the kitchen.
He shakes his head definitively, using his grip on your hands to bring you closer as he stares deep into your eyes. “There’s no one else. And the fact you would even think that means I’m not doing a good enough job proving how much I care for you. Because I like you so much, sweetheart, so, so much.”
The tension in your body breaks, and you allow yourself to lean into his strong body. His panic dissipates as he holds you to him, one arm flush against your waist as his hand holds your face to his chest. He’s never letting you go, of that he knows for sure.
He can’t believe there would be any doubt in your mind of his intentions. The sleepovers, the dinners in, the way he’s made a home between your thighs…that makes you official, doesn’t it? He’s never been one for the right words, but he was pretty sure his actions proved he was in this for the long haul. 
You’re too important to mess up. To allow any seed of doubt to spread. 
His nose traces along your temple, warm breath kissing the delicate skin. “Can I take you to bed, sweetheart?” 
Your face lifts from his chest to take in his honest face. The loose tendril of sun-lightened brunette that’s escaped his neat hairstyle. The thin lopsided smile you trust in. Eyes behind corrected lenses that are serious and playful in the same breath. 
In lieu of an answer, you mold your lips to his, drinking in his taste you’ve deprived yourself of for days. His kindness and sincerity sink into you, surrounding you the pleasantly overwhelming way his body does as he wraps around you. Holding your hips as he swallows your tongue, shifting himself to feel every dip and curve of your body.
As his lips find your neck, the laundry room comes back into view. A delicious thought swirls in your mind and the words burst from your mouth.
“Can I see?”
He nuzzles against your jaw, grinding his erection against your thigh. 
“See what?” He’s distracted by how good you smell, how soft your skin feels beneath his fingers.
“I want to see you with the cock ring. Show me, please?”
Arousal floods his mind, images of you naked beneath him while his balls throb with cum just for you. No words needed before he’s pushing you in front of him to his bedroom. He’s ready to show you just how devoted he is to you.
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Sitting on the edge of the bed, it feels like the first time with him all over again. Anticipation of the unknown, drowned in heavy lust. 
His eyes rake over you as he enters the room, lust darkening those soft blue eyes. You’re exactly how he wants you always - in his bed, eager for his touch. Right now, he’s yours.
Taking the spot between your legs, strong fingers stroking along jean-clad thighs, his broad frame bends toward you to rest his forehead against yours. That button nose knocking into yours. 
“There’s been no one else since the day you moved next door. I’m yours, only yours.”
The build up of emotions behind your eyes threatens to spill over as he presses his lips to yours. Cups the back of your head as he leans into you, applying the softest pressure. Pouring every ounce of his devotion into his kiss.
Your legs wrap around his slim hips, needing to feel his security and care. He’s the most helpful man to exist, and you know he’ll guide you through this dynamic. 
Kisses turn sweet to frantic to passionate as Robert holds your face. Your lips are chapped when he finally pulls away, strong chest rising and deflating. You know you mirror his disheveled aroused appearance. His hand reaches behind to his back pocket.
He holds the black cock ring between you, freshly washed, gleaming in the afternoon sunlight peeking through the curtains. “Are you sure about this?”
Your apprehensive eyes meet his, although a slight smile plays along your lips. “Play dirty with me. Please.”
Condensation beads on the lower rims of his glasses as he dips his face to kiss you, his skin flaming hot. The kiss is sinful yet curt, not wanting to lose himself before practicing restraint. You run your tongue along the seam of his lips, savoring his flavor. He hums against your mouth as your hands find his waist, heart picking up speed as your fingers find the button of his jeans. 
Robert clenches the cock ring in his fist, already struggling to hold his load as the softness of your skin wraps tightly around his hardening cock. 
His eyes are lidded, thin mouth already agape from the pleasure of your fist stroking firmly up and down his shaft. Can barely keep focus between the way you squeeze his deep pink tip and the spectacular view down your top, his mind running wild at the all the skin he needs to touch. He’s practically forgotten the reason for his view until you lick your lips sweetly and ask.
“Can I put it on?”
Fingers unfurl and present the silicone ring to you, warm from his clenched fist. You press the ring between your fingers, taking in the smooth design and thick circumference. Glide your thumb along the little button that makes it vibrate. 
He’s panting above you, already wrecked at the vision. The only two things he deems worthy of his cock, right in front of him. 
Bringing the ring up to your lips, he watches as you run your tongue along it, gathering your saliva to glisten along the silicone for a smoother glide. Your fingers effortlessly slipping along the edge before you touch it to the sensitive tip of his cock. 
His fingers curl around the nape on your neck, holding the hair there, grounding himself. Between your ministrations and the pressure of the ring slipping down his length, he’s dizzy with stimulation. His cock immediately swelling in response. Lip between his teeth to contain the gruff moans you’re desperate to hear.
Your eyes are focused on the firm grip the ring has on the length of him, sliding down until your thumb is brushing his heavy ballsack, pulsing with need. 
“Sweetheart, I’m not going to last.” He’s panting against your forehead, trying so hard to be patient, but wanting nothing more than to thrust into your fist and chase his orgasm. 
You tilt his chin to press a chaste kiss to his lips. A promise to take care of him, because you and you alone are responsible for his pleasure. Always.
Sliding back onto the soft coverlet, you raise your hips to remove your jeans. Skin growing warm at the wanton look of need in Robert’s eyes as you unbutton your top. His voice but a whine when you sit in front of him in nothing but the delicate chain around your neck. 
“So beautiful.”
It’s impossible to tell whose whimpers are more desperate as you run the shiny-slick swollen head of him against your core. Moaning as it catches on your entrance, ready to sink deep into those velvet depths. Voices becoming one as you impale yourself on the thick shaft that’s all yours.
He can’t believe anything could be better. This is Nirvana. Until you reach between to where your bodies meet and hit that tiny little button.
“Fuck!” He never swears, and yet that filthy word streaks through the room with a bite. Yelped loudly as he buries his face into your neck. The combination of vibrations and warm, tight pussy sending him into a spiral. Groaning out praises into your neck like it’s his last day alive.
You can’t help the grin on your face as you experience him come undone. How had you been denied the pleasure of watching him like this? The salt of his neck, the wayward curl stuck to his forehead? It’s a toss up if you’re getting off on being stuffed with his engorged cock or by watching the way his chest heaves for breath as he fights off his orgasm.
“Are you going to cum for me?” You’re drunk on power watching him like this, rutting his hips into you over and over for a pleasure that won’t come until you decide. His nod so desperate it goes right to your clit. His swollen cock stretching you beyond what you thought possible. The frisson of skin on skin, those tiny yet powerful vibrations, and his affection for you is overwhelming. 
The ring fully still in place, your orgasm wracks your body, convulsing over the sheets. Barely able to notice his soft lips brushing the arch of your breasts as he consumes your satisfaction. Drinking in the sounds of your moans as they mix with his wet thrusts. 
Your sleepy eyes are all he focuses on as he chases his orgasm, fighting past his usual routine of stopping here when he only has his hand. Right now he gets to have it all - the constricted blood flow, the vibration, and you. Perfect, wonderful you. His hands fist in the bedding, rooting himself, as sinks his hips deeper with precise strokes. 
He can do this. He will show you you’re the only one for him.
Body quivering, his face is bright red as he thrusts, exertion bringing the vein in his forehead out with a matching bead of sweat. Robert feels his body take on a new consciousness as you ask for his cum once more.
His grunts are filthy - animalistic and deep. The first stream of cum he’s ever experienced with the ring on filling your stretched pussy, claiming you as his. Head fuzzy, he takes a moment to pull himself from your soft embrace and jerk his engorged cock, shot after shot of cum pumping out across your body. A painting only he gets to witness.
His tank now empty, you feel the soft thump of his body fall beside yours. Hear him catch his breath in the quiet afternoon air.
Exhausted, his face knocks into yours - glasses already lost to the coverlet - as he comes to reality once again. Strong arms reaching to pull you to him. Lackadaisical kisses to your cheek before risking a glance down and laughing abashedly.
“T-there’s so much cum. It’s everywhere.” Another kiss. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.” 
The carefree yet sheepish grin he gives you melts your heart. You kiss him back, not needing to look as you feel his seed dry on your skin in the golden hour light. He very truly marked you as his, just as he is yours. 
Smoothing your fingers through his hair, memorizing every little detail of his face - what a handsome face - you ease his embarrassment. “It’s not a big deal. We’ll just throw the sheets in the washer and enjoy dinner. It’s fine, really.” 
His washer currently filled with your delicates complicates things, but your big, sweet smile soothes his self-consciousness. He returns the grin back, holding you closer. 
That night is spent eating Robert’s lasagna and playing cards until every light on the street went out. It’s far too late when the sheets are finally clean and dried, and even later when they’re successfully on the bed. But it’s worth it to him when you crawl under the duvet and beckon him closer, needing one last kiss from your boyfriend before sleep.
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midnightsnyx · 10 months ago
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aaron hotchner | photograph
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pairing: aaron hotchner x reader
a/n: i’ve never written criminal minds before but i have always been a die hard fan & wanted to try writing new characters other than what i usually write so i wrote this little blurb and decided to post it. pls be gentle, im sensitive lol
word count: 600
contrary to popular opinion, aaron hotchner wasn’t as cold as he seemed. he just needed to be around the right people, be around his people.
you knew this from the moment you met him, when he frantically rushed to the customer service desk after his name was paged over the intercom. you were doing your grochery shopping when you bumped into a lost little boy. he told you his name was jack, and that he had accidentally wandered away from his daddy. as you walked him to the customer service desk, he assured you that he absolutely was not scared but his dad would be and you needed to call him right away.
“daddy gets scared if he can’t find me,” jack told you solemnly while you waited with him until his dad showed up.
you were a kindergarten teacher and despite the insistence of the employee, your instinct was to stay with jack until his father arrived. in the short time that you spent with him, you learned a small amount about the boy. he told you that he wanted to be superman for halloween, he was six-years-old and his daddy worked for the FBI.
“jack!”
you turned your attention away from the boy to see a frantic looking man rushing towards the two of you. jack immediately jumped off the counter and raced towards his father, letting himself be scooped up and hugged tightly. you started to walk away, confident that jack was safe when a voice stopped you.
“thank you,” a deep voice said and you turned to see jack’s father looking at you.
you smiled. “no problem, just doing what anyone would do.”
he smiled tightly, and shook his head. “not everyone.”
you didn’t understand the deeper meaning behind his words until you’d been dating for a few months and he finally let you into the darker side of his life. after the cases that didn’t end well, and you got a first hand glance at just how cruel people could be.
“aaron,” he introduced himself, still holding jack but offering you his hand.
you shook it, told him your name and when jack innocently asked you to go for ice cream with them, you took the leap and accepted.
that was over a year ago, and you can’t imagine your life now without the two of them. even if your laundry doubled in size.
aaron had a bad habit of leaving his wallet in his pants pocket so you always had to double check every pocket before you put the clothes in the washer.
you were doing a load of laundry, shaking a pair of pants when his wallet tumbled out onto the floor. a picture fell out of it, and you smiled softly when you picked it up and saw a photo of you and aaron, taken at some dinner at rossi’s house. neither of you were looking at the camera, aaron’s hand tucking a loose piece of hair behind your head and you laughing at something.
you were staring at the photo for too long, because when a pair of arms wrapped around your waist you jumped but immediately relaxed when you looked up and saw aaron smiling at it.
“you keep that photo of us in your wallet?” you asked and he hummed.
“and a picture of jack,” he replied. “something to remind me that there’s still good in the world, even on the worst days.”
you turned around and wrapped your arms around him, tucking your face in his neck.
“i love you,” he whispered and you smiled.
“love you too.”
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a-autodidact-writer · 4 months ago
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Shigaraki’s love languages
I see a lot of stuff about touch starved Shigaraki (which is totally true) but I feel like he'd also be scared of touch. Same thing with words of affirmation. 
It would take a long time before he'd be comfortable being touched. He's so used violence and anger. He's never been held, only beaten and abused.
No positive words ever genuinely spoken to him. Trying to compliment him or subtle touches to try and show how you feel would scare him away.
That leaves the three other love languages; gift giving, quality time, and acts of service.
Gift giving would have to be small things, going out and buying him gifts like flowers may make him think you're expecting something in return.
But stopping by his favorite sandwich place and buying him a sandwich ‘sense you were getting yourself one anyway’ would make him feel seen. Or buying him a game he mentioned to you because ‘you wanted to play it too and it has two player’ might get you a thank you and a small smile.
Speaking of video games, quality time could be you playing a game with him now and again. Or just quietly sitting on the couch while he plays his game. Giving him space, but being in the room. People just being in the same room as him usually makes him tense. But slowly over time you see him grow more comfortable with you being around. 
Like everything else on this list acts of service would have to be small to not freak him out. All things would have to be seen as easy and done without thinking about him too much.
When living at the hideout for a while, occasionally switching his laundry sense ‘you needed to use the washer and didnt wanna wait for him to switch it’ or sewing up ruined clothes after a fight sense you ‘needed something to do’.
But over time, after a fight gone wrong. He asks you to help him patch himself up. It's the only time he's let you touch him. Letting you clean and sew up the parts of him that he can't reach on his own. It's a start.
Shigaraki is a man who needs to be loved gently, patiently, and with understanding.
Accepting the fact he may never be able to love the way most people can. That he’ll never be the model boyfriend, he's rough, mean, and deeply traumatized.
Sitting on the couch with you, while you may be on opposite sides of it. He still is quietly enjoying sharing space with you. It's important to take the small wins. 
Each one, no matter how small, is a sign of progress.
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justlemmeadoreyou · 1 year ago
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harry in love (headcanons)
okay, so what about harry in love? like truly, madly deeply, completely in love? he'd be so adorable :(
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when he would wake up, he would always look at your face the first thing, always saying how it makes his day better. when you're both far away, he would just keep a picture of you as his wallpaper, remembering to look at his phone the first thing in the morning
he would be your chaperone, offering to drive you and be with you anywhere you wanna go-you want to get your nails done, he's ready. shopping? check. groceries? he's your handyman. you wanna go for a girls night? he'll drive you there and then come to pick you up coz it's not safe for a pretty cupcake like you to uber at midnight :(
he would talk to you every night, how your day was, did you eat properly, did you drink enough water, is your car okay? or do you want to get it serviced, get fuel filled? listening closely while he rubs lotion on your hands and legs, occasionally giving you back rubs
expect so many love notes from him. i love you's on text randomly, notes on the fridge and beside table when he has to leave for work early. he would even insert some silly jokes, so you don't miss that adorable dork too much :((
you want something, he would bring 20 varieties of it the next day. you want to try yogurt, multiple flavours that you haven't even heard of are in the refrigerator the next day
he would always cook with you too. chopping or washing vegetables to just stirring the pot or standing there admiring you, he would be by your side. always.
if somebody hurts you or goes over the line, the pure anger in his eyes is unforgiving. he knows he can’t do too much physical harm, but he never lets go off that easily either
when you cry, he's your shoulder to put your head on, he's the hand that wipe the tears off your cheek. he holds you close, rubbing your back and kissing your forehead, your cheeks. he never stops you or pushes you away, knowing just how bad bottled up emotions can be
and he would be so cute when you're on your period :( making you hot chocolate, bringing you chocolates and sweets, keeping the heating pad ready because he knows how much your cramps hurt :( he would cook for you all the time, wanting you to eat all the best food you can.
and don't expect him to freak out and shout when he sees blood ridden sheets. he'll gently wake you up, telling you that your period has started, and that he has run a bath for you, there’s clean clothes, there’s warm clothes, whatever you need. you scurry to the bathroom, making a mental note to clean up the mess on the bed later. but when you come back, the sheets have been replaced and already put in the washer. the room smells fresh, there’s breakfast for you on the table, and he comes back in with a heating pad :( and an adorable smile. when you ask him about the sheets and why is he not freaked out, he says, "i'm not a boy, love"
♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡
please like, comment or reblog if you like this, i really appreciate every note 🥺🥺
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waterkittywriting · 5 months ago
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BSD & Their love languages <3
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Warnings: A few mentions of characters pasts in passing but other than that this is pure fluff <3 not written well because i made this on a whim 20 minutes before i typically sleep
Characters: Akutagawa, Atsushi, Yosano, Dazai, Ranpo
A/N: I need a boyfriend like akutagawa 😒
Akutagawa
- Acts of service
He's constantly doing the tiniest little things for you that'll make your day just a little better; switching your clothes from the washer to the dryer for you, he'll cook you breakfast and make the coffee in the morning before you're even awake, he'll shut the blinds when he wakes up before you so you can sleep in longer, etcetera. He's not great with showing how he loves you through words and he's a bit afraid of physical touch so this is the best way for him to show you his love.
Atsushi
- Quality time
He wants to spend every second of every day with you no matter what you're doing. Going to the laundromat? He'll tag along! Forgot to get something at the store, well obviously he needs to come with. Besides that, he's always planning cutesy little dates at parks and inviting you over to his house just to sit on his bed in each other's presence while doing your own thing. Your presence just makes his life so much better and he wants to do everything with you.
Yosano
- Gift giving
We all know this girl LOVES shopping. You're coming with her on all her shopping trips of course so you'll see most of what she gets, but every once in awhile she'll slip a cute shirt or a pretty lip color into the cart while you're off looking at something else so she can surprise you when you two get home. Same goes with online shopping - even if she's not planning on buying anything and just scrolling through a shopping website for fun and she sees something she'll know you like, purchased immediately.
Dazai
(forgive me for the color I had no clue on what to use)
- Physical touch
It doesn't matter what you're doing, you can be reading a book on your couch or sitting at your desk at work, he'll come right over and drop his torso into your lap, laying over you while you pet his hair and he complains about how difficult his day today was. He never got a lot of affection as a kid so he's so happy to have you to fill that whole.
Ranpo
- Gift giving; but only with sweets.
Obviously this boy doesn't have too much money, he's not particularly attached to physical affection, he's too lazy to give you many acts of service - but what he can do? Leave a piece of candy on your desk eveytime you're upset, even if it's his favorite he'll give it to you to make you feel better. It's not.. the best way to help you, but he's trying and it genuinely does show his love (we all know how much his candy means to him.) and of course it cheers you up everytime you find a nice treat on your desk.
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daydream-cement · 1 year ago
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Laundry Service (NSFW)
Larissa Weems x Reader
Larissa helps you out.
Author's Note: Short smut (600 words). This was originally about one of my oc's, but I couldn't resist adding the Headmistress in instead.
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You stretched down into the washing machine. You couldn’t believe how hard it was to get to the bottom. You always felt as if you were average height, but as your fingers barely reached the last few socks at the bottom. 
When Larissa passed by the laundry room, she had to do a double take at the sight of you bent over into the washing machine. You were in your lazy Sunday clothes - tight leggings that showed off every curve and an oversized sweater that shifted out of place to expose your midriff. Your feet dangled off the ground as you struggled to snatch up all of the little pieces of laundry alluding you at the bottom of the washer. 
Larissa couldn’t resist coming up behind you. Her hands slowly moved to grip your waist, giving your body a light squeeze.
At first you jolted in surprise, but you soon realized it was Larissa from the familiarity of her hands on your skin, “Oh, honey! Can you help me?”
“Happy too.” Larissa cooed, curling her fingers around the band of your leggings and underwear. 
The shapeshifter was often reserved in her sexual pursuits of you, but that reservation was nowhere to be seen as she dropped to her knees, pulling your pants down with her.
You gasped, hands gripping the edge of the washing machine. Your cheeks flushed red as you exclaimed, “Rissa!”
“I'm helping…” Larissa husked as her hands palmed your ass for a moment before shifting her hands to cup it gently. She used the leverage of her hand placement to spread your thighs to access your cunt. 
You sucked in a breath when you felt the shapeshifter plunge her tongue into your cunt. 
Larissa was eating you with a starving fervor that had you mewling and humming in response. The rim of the washing machine was digging into your abdomen, but that was feeling like far less of a priority at the moment. 
In the few moments Larissa would come up for air from your cunt, she was gasping phrases of adoration - ‘I love you’, ‘You’re perfect’, and ‘You taste incredible’ were repeated over and over.
You couldn’t last long. Between the setting, the dominance, and and the sensation, all of the elements combined in a way that had you gushing on Larissa’s chin.
When the shapeshifter took to sucking on your clit, you had no ability to hold back any longer. You came with a cry, but just because you came didn’t mean the shapeshifter was about to stop. 
Larissa lapped at your cum until she was sure she had cleaned you up enough. 
When Rissa was satisfied, she pushed herself to stand, pulling your pants back up with her. She wiped her face and with a strong arm around your middle, Larissa pulled you from the washing machine and manhandled you into a position where she could seat you on the dryer. 
Larissa then moved away from your dazed form, leaning into the washing machine and yanking out the remaining laundry with a single hand. The shapeshifter tossed the few socks into the nearby laundry basket you had been using before turning her attention back on you, “I hope that helped, darling.”
Larissa turned on her heels, leaving you wide eyed, “Wha- Rissa?”
“If you need anything else, let me know.” Larissa called from the hallway.
“Rissa-“ You called, jumping down from the dryer, cut off by tripping over the basket of damp laundry. You were scrambling as you picked up the laundry from the floor and shoved it in the dryer, continuing to call Larissa’s name as you turned on the dryer and chased your wife down the hall.
Taglist: @charymobile, @bri-sonat, @weemswife , @smutuniversesblog , @opheliauniverse, @teashock , @enchantressb , @alex-nyx , @renravens , @whenyouhaveanobsession , @scream-queenlover , @shyladyfan, @lilfartbox1, @rubberduckiesbathing , @mcufanisme , @peanutbutterprincess, @larissaoftarthweems , @sicklygrlsicklygrl , @lvinhs , @myzzjolanda , @principal-weems09 , @xuukoo , @brienneswife , @dumbasslesbi , @oculusalien , @sweetderacine , @giogwensversion , @milciak , @gela123 , @thevillagegay , @katiemcgrathsbitch1 , @naomi-m3ndez , @mysaviorfalsegod , @h-doodles , @salems-spaghettios , @imgayforwoman69 , @bychrissi, @alexusonfire, @weemssapphic, @kimiinou, @hiiamkatana, @mountain-bikingwitch, @willowshadenox, @aemilia19, @mommyslittlebaby, @agathaandgwenslesbian, @gay-frogs08
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angelstate · 1 year ago
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Husband!Soap x Wife!Reader.
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Husband!Soap is one hell of a lover, he is everything you could ever ask for in a man. He is attentive and caring, he truly appreciates you and loves you in a way that shouldn’t be possible for humans to feel.
He does everything he can to show you just how deeply he feels about you, and it manifests as much in little things as in the big things. For example, your favorite tea is always restocked in the pantry, the washer and dryer are always empty and the clean clothes are neatly folded in your bedroom closet. The bills of the water and electricity services never meet your eye because he pays before you can see the cost of it, he knows you get anxious and worried about that sort of thing.
He is honest about his feelings and you’re always what he has in mind, he likes you and loves you so much to the point he feels like kneeling at your feet and just worships you in every way he can, more than sexually, his love goes beyond that.
you could come up to him one day and tell him that he could never touch again and his feelings wouldn’t falter for one second, he would make do with only being able to admire you like he did for years before he even dared to ask you to be his girlfriend.
Husband!Soap would take the fault for every one of your mistakes, if you break a plate in his parent's house he would say it had been him, if you’re arguing about something he would apologize first, knowing that it wasn’t worth time to yell at each other for something that was a mistake.
He knows you’ll apologize too after you calm down, not wanting to be trapped between high emotions when saying something meaningful to him. you value the control you have over your words and he is a patient man, he would wait a lifetime if it meant to hear you speak so time isn’t wasted with him, every second he experiences your existence is heaven to him.
Husband!Soap hopes for the day the two of you have children, he wants a family with you, wants to build something of himself that is fully constructed in a foundation of love and safety, the one he didn’t necessarily have as a kid.
He wants a big family in the countryside, a view of hills of greenery, tall trees, flowers, and fresh air every morning, to be woken up by the sight of you lying beside him in bed, your pretty face relaxed and messy hair all over your pillow while the sun creeps in from between the curtains, your children sleeping in their bedroom the quietness of the home being something short-lived when they began to wake up, he wants to grow old by your side, raising a beautiful family.
He allows himself to dream about it more than he cares to admit, he knows it won’t happen in a very long time, his job, your career, and other problems stopping the two of you from taking that step but he is a patient man, and he rather takes his time than rush things and risk losing you in the process.
Husband!Soap is a good man, he knows he did everything he could to make your time together merry and happy, to fill it with more good memories than bad ones. and he allows himself to think he did a good job at loving you while he could.
so when he gets shot on the side of his head and the last 7 minutes of brain activity the body is programmed to experience before ultimately dying begin, his mind is plagued with you, meeting you, becoming your friend, asking you to be his girlfriend but most of all, your wedding day.
and it is as if he’s experiencing that day all over again, your voice as you read to him your vows, how sweet of you to write personal ones, full of inside jokes and promises you had made him years ago when you first started dating. He remembers feeling his heart flutter on his chest.
but right now, lying on the cold floor his heart cannot flutter, but the tears falling from his eyes do the job just fine because the memory as beautiful as it is makes him feel extremely sad, he doesn’t want to leave you behind, he wants to live longer, to experience more things by your side.
He wants to have children with you, he wants to see the passing of time affect the two of you, to see the smile lines on your face and know that was his doing, that a lifetime with him granted you marks of happiness in your skin.
He wants more time, God, he wants an eternity with you, he wants as much time as he can get.
He remembers your face when he came home early a few months ago, the excitement filling in the void in your eyes when you first opened the door, he remembers the weight of your body on his arms as you had jumped on him, wrapping your limbs around him and not letting go.
what he would do to see that face again, to hear your squeals of happiness next to his ear and feel the softness of your hair in between his fingers. if he knew that would be the last time he came home to you he would’ve done so much more.
he would’ve fixed the creek of the door, he would’ve washed the dirty clothes on the laundry basket, he would’ve cooked your favorite meal and hugged you just a bit more tightly.
He knows he did his fair share of bad things in the world, but you were nothing short of an angel, you didn’t deserve his death as much as he deserved to die. He knows the fragility of your heart, he knows that you’re a sensitive being that can only be treated gently, and he is afraid death isn’t kind, that grief will swallow you whole before you get a chance to realize that your life shouldn’t end because he did.
Husband!Soap loves you more than you could ever imagine, so when the 7 minutes of brain activity ends, he goes out with the image of your face in his mind, your voice muttering that everything is alright, that you love him as much as he loves you.
you were everything, the sole reason he wished for a brighter future and the reason he died a happy man.
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mredsdryernm · 2 months ago
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If you’re searching for dependable Washer and Dryer Repair in Albuquerque NM, look no further than Mr. Ed’s Dryer Repair Service. Our experienced technicians are equipped to handle a wide range of appliance issues, from unusual noises to inefficient drying cycles. We pride ourselves on our commitment to customer satisfaction and quality repairs. When you choose us, you can rest easy knowing that your washer and dryer are in capable hands.
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solar-sunnyside-up · 1 year ago
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So my neighborhood is SO COOL and I wanna share some of the awesome stuff that's been making some movement. This is mostly to highlight why taking an interest in your neighborhood is so rewarding.
#1 - park renos! The park in walking distance of my house has been under construction for a few months. They're doing a LOT of work. Primarily, they are building a skating Rink, fire pit, picnic area, basketball area, and extending the existing kid park. Before it was just 3 baseball fields and a small park. They also have added over 10 apple trees and over 15 native trees!! They also have a Cafe going into the apartment complex they are putting across the street (which is low income housing but every unit has a washer/dryer, and has a firepit/BBQ area for entertainment on the roof I wish I had photos of it but I'll put a video of an example where I used to live btw the person in the video is my old roomie I'm sorry K for not editing u out forgive mee)
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#2 little Libraries
There are 3 little Libraries in walking distance of my place, one is opening tomorrow! The one tomorrow also has a little blockbuster and a food pantry attached to it, it's outside a community resource center.
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#3 Resource center
Omg!! So the resource center does a lot. It has counciling, good food boxes where you pay 30$ for 15lbs of produce from local farms monthly, job hunting services including free computers and printers for applying to things, parenting groups, that kinda junk. But the key feature I saw for the first time today was the "Closet room" which I thought was exclusively clothes but nah it's basically a whole thrift store! It's got baby clothes, toys, unused toothbrushes, movies, books, interview clothes, pjs going up to xxxL, pots and pans, anything else you could think of. It made me realize why no one uses the thrift store up the hill from me. Why pay when this closet community feature is free??? They have vollunteers run it so it's take way you want, donate what you can and omg!
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I could go on but that's just from today!
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fickleminder · 2 months ago
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laundry day
DWBD AU. Satan bumps into Kirana on her way to the laundromat.
DWBD AU masterlist here.
“What are you doing?” Satan’s eyebrows almost disappeared into his hairline at the sight of Kirana lugging a huge sack over her shoulder. The way she seemed to be struggling under its weight made him instinctively step forward to carry it for her, but he had to be sure his help was wanted first. “Need a hand?”
“I’m good!” She set the sack down and opened the front door, looking ready to squeeze the whole thing outside. “Just doing laundry, nothing to worry about.”
“…That’s a lot of laundry.”
“I’ve been busy.” She shrugged and rolled up her sleeves. “And the laundromat is emptier this time of week.”
“What’s wrong with our washer?” Satan asked. Had Kirana been hauling her clothes all the way across town this entire time? Why in the nine Circles would she do something so—
Kirana paused and blinked at him. “It’s cursed?” She rubbed the back of her neck. “I mean, the sigils on it always zapped me unless I threw in a wad of Grimm first. Figured it was cheaper to just use the public ones.”
Satan was going to kill Mammon. The sigils were easy to bypass, and the rest of them had gotten so used to doing it that they had completely overlooked the fact that their human housemate wasn’t as magically inclined. It was likely that Mammon had set it up specifically to extort Grimm from her, and Lucifer either didn’t know about it or didn’t care.
Well, good thing he wasn’t Lucifer.
“I’ll take care of it,” Satan declared, grabbing the sack of clothes with one hand and beckoning Kirana with the other. “Follow me.”
Seeing the sigils on the washer and dryer made Satan want to crush the machines into a pulp with his bare hands, but that wouldn’t be doing any of them any favors. Instead, he used his nails to carve counter spells into the metal, rendering them inert and useless.
“There, no more zapping.” He dusted his hands and smiled proudly at Kirana, glad to finally have been useful to her. “Is there anything else I can assist you with? Do you need soap? Hangers? I could even do your laundry for you—”
It wasn’t until Kirana coughed and looked away that Satan realized he was starting to overdo it, especially with that last part.
“Uhh, I mean—” He cleared his throat, slowly backing out of the room. “Glad to be of service. Come find me if you need anything else.”
And then he hightailed it out of there, his face on fire.
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gaelic · 9 months ago
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Mahalakshmi Dhobi Ghat, a gigantic laundry service.
Created in 1890, Mahalakshmi Dhobi Ghat is a giant open air laundry place in Mumbai, India. The washers, known as dhobis, work in the open to clean clothes and linens from Mumbai's hotels, hospitals, neighbourhood laundries, garment dealers, wedding decorators and caterers.
For 18 to 20 hours each day, over 7000 people (around 200 families) flog, scrub, dye and bleach clothes on concrete wash pens, dry them on ropes, neatly press them and transport the garments to different parts of the city. Over one lakh (100,000) clothes are washed each day. Some of the wealthier dhobis have given up on manual cleaning and have now installed large mechanical washing and drying machines. 
2023-11-08 India, Maharashtra, Mumbai (Bombay)
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matcha-kathrin · 2 years ago
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STRANGERS - Chapter 3
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Summary: You meet the stranger. Again. Two times was silly, but now three times? And of all places, you really had to meet in a laundromat in the dead of night. Although, something is changing, You fear you might no longer be strangers, after all. 
Pairing: Pedro Pascal x reader. 
Notes/Warnings: Eyyyy no warnings, just a lot of deep talks and slight fluff. I say fluff but these two have basically just touched hands like ONCE so. I did put a bit of characterization onto the reader I hope ya’ll don’t mind, it’s for story sake. Also by now im fully convinced the reader is just blind cuz there is no way you wouldn’t recognize Pedro right away. Humor me though.
Word Count: 3.5k
Please read Part One and Part Two before proceeding.
~*~
STRANGERS - Chapter Three
 The one thing you hated about living in New York was how hard it was for apartments to come with washers and driers. Now you weren’t picky, a washer by itself would’ve been enough, but not having either? It was hell. Mostly because you had to walk down the street from your apartment to the closest laundromat there was, pray that not all the machines were occupied, and that by some miracle your clothes didn’t get ruined halfway through the wash. You hated laundry day.
Or more like night. You were hauling your big plastic grocery bag filled with all of your dirty clothes over your shoulders, the slightly chilly air making you see your breath clearly in front of you. You didn’t mean to lose track of time but as soon as you clocked out from your day job the sun was nowhere to be seen and dinner time had passed. And if you didn’t wash your clothes before the day was well and gone…you’d be ruined. Your fate may very well be hanging in the balance.
It was quite funny actually, as you made your way clumsily through the street you saw the yellow sign of your usual laundromat and you were filled with comfort. Your mom used to tell you how laundromats were a place where you were destined to meet people. Other people just like you, who were broke or had no washer, who were just trying to get by in such a big, lively city as this. Or maybe it was a place where you were destined to waste two hours of your time waiting for your clothes to get washed, only for them to freeze in the night air on your way back home.
Maybe she was right, you had always thought that the most mundane places held beauty within them, that any story could begin in a dull, brightly lit laundromat. Maybe it was the hour and maybe you were a bit sentimental but there was something magical about how the blinding light shone out of the windows and onto the damp street as you approached. The empty benches inside making you ease up, at least you didn’t have to deal with spending two hours meeting people as your mom romanticized you would. There was something about the contrast from the windows and the dark streets that held a suspense in the air. As if once you’d click on the machine time would stop, the songs playing in your headphones the only proof of time passing. And for a moment, a brief, eternal moment you’d be the only person in the world. Alone. Sitting in a laundromat.
As you opened the door, struggling to get in with the huge bag on your shoulders the bell that hung above you rung, signaling your entrance. Why a self-service laundromat even had a bell was beyond you.
Unfortunately, the sound was ultimately what ruined your expectations for the night. Because for some crazy reason you weren’t alone. And as soon as the bell had rung the head you saw peaking from behind one of the rows of washing machines looked up. You had to double take.
“No fucking way.” You spoke, the silence that had engulfed the small self-service store broken by your disbelief “Are you stalking me?” You asked as you looked at the all too familiar stranger with concern.
He looked at you from under his…again his sunglasses and squinted, as if he couldn’t make out your face from the other side of the cramped room. Once he did realize who you were his brows lifted, also looking completely and utterly dumbfounded.
“Are you stalking me?” he countered.
“This is my laundromat!”
“I don’t see your name on it.”
“Ha. Ha. Very funny.” You sighed, dragging your overflowing bag until you reached one of the tables, lifting it up in a huff and letting it fall with a low thud. “What are you even doing here at this hour?”
“My washer broke, what are you doing here at this hour?” The way he repeated your questions with a small smirk irked you, but then again you were glad it was him and not some other strange man. Of course, the one standing in front of you in what looked like his pajamas wearing those godforsaken glasses was looking stranger by the second. But even with his ridiculous clothing and his even messier hair you couldn’t help the feeling that settled in your stomach when you locked eyes.
There had to be something wrong with you. You thought the second time you spoke not even a week ago was just a silly coincidence. A beautiful silly coincidence in which you wished you had stayed longer, but as you recalled it a small feeling of anxiety settled in you. If you had stayed then the night would have ended differently. Very differently. The mere thought of it making you shudder.
These coincidences were getting a bit too numerous for it not to be weird. Then again he did look like a man who’s washer had broken.
“I happen to not own a washer, thank you very much.” You answered finally, looking at him with suspicion, as if he had planned this whole encounter all along.
“Don’t look at me like that my washer really did break! In the middle of a cycle too, I couldn���t just leave dirty wet clothes laying around the house.” He laughed nervously; he was probably worried you actually thought him to be a stalker. Little did he know you were very good at reading people, you knew he wasn’t ill intentioned. You could tell by his absolute puzzled look he had on his face when you walked it. That or maybe because you noticed the slight glee that came afterwards when he realized it was you.
He watched you pull out your clothes and stuff them in what seemed to be the cleanest washer there was, as you hummed, unconvinced by his plea. “I suppose. But I’m keeping my eye on you.”
“No complaints from me.” He smiled, but when you sent him a look it just dropped, and he averted his gaze.
You really didn’t mean to be so defensive, but it was really late, and the whole situation was really weird.
“What about you?” he asked after a moment, and you sighed again.
“I told you I don’t have a washer.”
“And you had to wash your clothes tonight did you?” He arched his brow, this time he was the one who was unconvinced. You pursed your lips, if only he knew why you so desperately needed to get this done. The reason for your nightly adventure happened into your hand then, a beautiful dress, one that was gifted to you. He noticed the way you hesitated when you pulled it out and saw how fast you threw it in the washer with the rest of your clothes.
“That looks pretty, is that why you need to wash your clothes so desperately?” He chuckled, you hadn’t noticed he had gotten closer until he sat on the bench next to you, looking up at you in interest.
“No.” You replied quickly, then huffed “Yes I – I don’t know. It’s stupid.”
“What is?”
“Me. Being here at this hour, trying to wash a stupid dress I probably won’t even get to wear.” You didn’t realize just how much the whole thing disturbed you, and your dear stranger was looking at you so utterly confused. If he could’ve chosen the worst moment to come to your laundromat, it was this. You were probably on the verge of breakdown; but you’d be damned if you’d let anyone, let alone him, see.
“When were you going to wear it?” His voice was soft, not amused by your little fit of emotions but almost…concerned? It was warm as it rung low, and somehow you had instantly felt better. Or worse, you couldn’t decide.
“Tomorrow night. I have…” You hesitated, looking at him as if choosing your next words carefully “an event to attend. I was going to get it washed properly but I lost track of time, knowing my luck it’ll probably get ruined halfway through the wash.” You placed the rest of the clothing inside the machine and shut it well, inserting the coins and detergent it needed and then pressed the button to start it up.
Then you plopped down next to him, not caring if you were sitting a tad bit too close to the stranger, a distance no two strangers would ever sit at. He just watched you as you did.
“I’ll just wear something else. It’s not that important.”
“It sounds important.” He nudged, his words letting you know you could find solace in speaking with him. You smiled tiredly.
“It’s just a hobby. I shouldn’t even get so worked up about it.”
“A hobby can still be important.” He mused.
“Not if you’re like me. Not if you need to have infinite things to do or else you feel completely meaningless.” You exaggerated, even though it was mostly true. He just chuckled, looking at your frustrated expression with affection.
“All my life they told me I had to pick one thing. One thing to do the rest of my life and be satisfied with it. Concentrate on one thing if you want to be successful.” You continued, his smile slowly fading as he heard the bitter tone you had.
“Who told you?”
“Anyone. Everyone. But did I listen? Of course not, I just had to move here and believe I could have it all, work on anything I desired and somehow be good at all of it. The best even.”
He hummed, his shoulder slightly brushing against yours as you let your head rest on the back of the window looking out to the street, the red bench was worn and uncomfortable under you. You could even see the paint chipping at its edges. Although somehow with him by your side, it felt like the most comfortable place on earth.
“Sounds like you’re ambitious. That’s one more thing I know of you now.”
“That and that I don’t own a washer. Or a drier.” You scoffed.
“Well at least you know mines broken. That makes us even.”
“I feel better already.” You quipped sarcastically, he nudged your shoulder playfully when you did, making you smile.
“I don’t think it’s wrong you know, doing many different things. I- I’ve done a lot of different things too.” He added almost shyly, and you turned your head to look at him, surprised by his sudden bashfulness.
“Are you any good at them?” You asked almost by default. He didn’t seem like the type to be ambitious, then again you didn’t really know what he seemed like.
“I- yeah. I am.” He sounded unsure, his words truthful but as his eyes met yours he squinted slightly, as if he couldn’t quite understand something. You just frowned. Choosing to ignore the exceedingly small distance between you.
“Well at least one of us is.” You sighed.
“Do you really not know who I am?” The question falling from his lips even before he could catch himself, your brows furrowed. And you remembered once again just how familiar he looked.
“I don’t think so, am I supposed to?”
“Not necessarily.” It was his turn to sigh, his shades dropped loosely on his nose couldn’t hide the fact he seemed almost…disappointed?
“Do you know who I am?” You asked, still unsure if he might be stalking you or not. But your very sincere question was met with a bark of laughter.
“I wish. But no, I don’t.” His answer made your heart skip a slight bit faster, he wished he knew you? Or maybe he wished you were exactly as you appeared to be. Expectations could be a dangerous thing.
“So, what is this hobby that’s got you so down? Doesn’t sound like a good one.”
“It’s not the hobby that is the problem,” You chuckled finally, feeling the heat that had rose to your cheeks slightly subside “it’s the fact I can’t dedicate as much time to it as I’d want.”
He waited patiently for you to continue, even though you had hoped he’d let the question drop. For strangers’ sake and all that. But you were too tired and, just as you suspected, time seemed to stand still in the brightly lit laundromat. If you sat still enough you could hear the light buzz of the lamps illuminating the both of you. They never flickered but the sound made you think that at any moment the light would just go out. And you’d be there, in the dark, sitting awfully close to the stranger until your shoulders touched. Feeling the heat emanating from him pass on to you. The line you both had chosen not to cross the only thing keeping you both in your place. But you wondered if in the dark you’d risk it all, maybe in the darkness you’d feel less accountable, less exposed. Maybe you had already crossed the line a while ago, you weren’t really sure when.
“I- it’s a student film screening. It’s some sort of small film festival that’s gonna be held tomorrow night.”
“You study film?” He seemed surprised, you laughed nervously at his question.
“No…I actually- am in it.” You admitted shyly, your hands rubbing on your knees as you pulled them to your chest, you don’t know why but every time you admitted you acted on the side it sounded so stupid. But you loved it, even if it was just a hobby you dedicated little to no time in.
“You’re in the film? You act?” He sounded so astonished you had to lift your head from its resting position and look at him curiously.
“Yeah? I mean, I just dabble in it.” You shrugged, “Stupid isn’t it?”
“No, of course not! It’s good to have hobbies like that.” He reassured, you felt the small knot in your stomach loosen as he did, you don’t know why but his approval seemed important to you. Even if you didn’t know his name. It was comforting, that much you knew.
“I guess,” you lulled, not convinced but much more at ease that he didn’t laugh at you “I guess I just…feel like if I don’t do things I won’t matter. I’m terrified that if I try my hardest I still won’t be good enough. I’m terrified that if- that if I don’t give my life a meaning then there’s no point to all of-” You stopped, looking around yourself, word failing to meet your thoughts “this.”
“And maybe I’m wrong, maybe I’m wrong to think I can be satisfied only by pursuing whatever fool-hardy thing that pops into my head, but what should I do? Not try?” You continued after a moment. And you worried you said too much. You worried that no matter how you twisted the words around your sentiment you would never get it across. The feeling in itself was not something you could explain, it was nothing and everything. It was an overwhelming desire for everything and nothing. You weren’t even sure what you wanted in the first place.
His gaze had softened as you rambled, he didn’t see you as the type to get so lost in questions of meaning or importance. In fact, when he had met you in the two separate bars you seemed like the only person who knew your place, enjoying the vibrance of the lives all around you. Yet here you were, spilling so much uncertainty he couldn’t help but look at you with sullen eyes. How he wished he could comfort you, but to you he was no one, and he liked that he meant nothing to you, but hated it at the same time.
“To live a creative life, we must lose our fear of being wrong.” He cited, and you hummed. Your thoughts dying down and blurring with the sounds of the machines. “Who said that?”
“Can’t remember. But it’s true. If you’re afraid that what you’re doing is wrong you’ll never get to where you need to go. I think it’s amazing when someone can wake up each day and reinvent themselves, and who said you can’t? Whomever it was only knows what they have lived, and if they’ve lived a life doing one thing then good for them, but that doesn’t mean you have to.” You looked at him as he finished, as if you couldn’t really believe he was there. He was the first person who told you anything of the sort. The first to say you didn’t have to do what everyone else was doing if you didn’t want to. It made you want to keep him there, with you. You wanted to hear his low voice whisper into your ear all night. Feel his hands feverishly caress your skin.
But you pushed the feeling aside.
“The world is your oyster.” You snorted, and he huffed out a laugh alongside you, nodding. It was funny, but you didn’t really know when you had reached the point where you two could joke after spilling intense thoughts about life. But maybe that’s what it had always been from the start. Just two strangers contemplating notions they would rather share then keep to themselves, only to tease and joke about it after. Maybe it was a way to cope with the fact that you’ll never have the answers. You’ll never know if what your doing is right or wrong, and maybe that was okay. Maybe you didn’t need to know. Maybe just existing, in this space as time seem suspended, next to a stranger in an empty laundromat was enough. For the first time, you felt okay simply existing.
“Can I come?” He asked finally, his voice so low you almost didn’t hear him over the sound of the machines. You had gotten lost in your thoughts, your eyes following the swirling of the washer in front of you, until he spoke, and they snapped to his.
“What?”
“Can I come- to the event. Tomorrow night.”
You looked at him incredulously, this was uncharted territory, and it was making your heart pick up in your chest. “I don’t even know if I’m going. My dress will probably still be drying by tomorrow night.”
“I bet you it’ll dry in time.” He smirked, and you couldn’t help but narrow your eyes in amusement.
“Oh yeah? What’re we betting then?” You whispered, leaning in slightly. You could’ve sworn his eyes had lowered for a moment to your lips. But when you blinked they were looking straight into your eyes again. You must’ve imagined it.
“Hmm…” He clearly pretended to think about it for a moment, turning his head and placing a finger on his chin in thought. For some reason you knew already what he was going to say.
“If your dress is dry by tomorrow nights’ event- you’ll tell me your name.”
You froze. You knew it was coming yet you did nothing to stop it. Maybe you didn’t want to, because the way he gazed at you while your brain processed the bet was enough to convince you. Maybe it would be different, this time. Maybe you didn’t have to play a game just to keep things interesting. Not everything had to be, and certainly not with him. He was always there in the perfect moments, the perfect encounters. It was like meeting someone that had nothing to do with you and talk as if you had known each other forever. Granted you did most of the talking, he tended to just sit there and tease.
You didn’t mind. And you didn’t think he did either.
“Fine. But if my dress is not dry by then I win, and you’ll have to tell me yours.”  
He didn’t answer, just shrugged, and extended his hand for you to shake. You lifted yours and clasped it gently around his, once again relishing in the feeling of his skin against yours. You’d never figure out why he had that effect on you. He just did.
After you shook hands gently, competing in one of your many staring contests, you both shared a moment of comfortable silence looking at the two washers moving out of sync in front of you, one with his clothes, one with yours.
“You’d really come to see my film?” The way you asked, your voice full of disbelief, made his heart break a little.
“Of course.” He answered, never meaning something so much as he did then. You weren’t looking at him, and he wasn’t looking at you, but he could see the small smile that had formed on your lips from the corner of his eyes. No matter what it took he was going to that event, and if he could, he’d win the bet.
Even if it was utterly out of his control.
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copperbadge · 2 years ago
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I'm here! Well, I mean, I've been here for several hours at this point, but I've reached my lodgings and settled in. I hung up the next few days' worth of clothes, put my toiletries in the bathroom, took a shower, and am now running today's (which are also yesterday's) clothes through the small washer-dryer. We'll see if it actually dries them; if not at least I'm not doing this the hour before packing for Paris.
Went to Sainsbury's. You guys are not gonna believe the shit I found, but it's going to have to wait until my phone charges.
There have been a few hiccups on the road; the main one is that due to a complicated series of events, I have two USB ports I can charge all my gear from when I really could use four, and I'm not sure if I'll even have those two available once I leave London. I'm just going to have to be a little measured with my power use until I have more intel. In any case, most trains these days seem to have USB ports, so I'll just plug in whenever I can. As long as the phone stays charged I should be fine, and I can charge it like four times on my backup battery before the backup bites it.
Overall, despite Heathrow being a nightmare, it was a pleasant day -- I checked my luggage at the Tate Modern, did a loop of it, then went off to Pick & Cheese, the conveyor belt restaurant. I wanted one of everything but I know me, so I limited myself to three plates, which was enough to fill me up, although I imagine I'm going to have a snack before bed. (Hence Sainsbury's.) It was really, really good cheese and pairings, but I'm sure part of it was also that I hadn't had a real meal in roughly eighteen hours. The dinner they served on the flight was absolutely inedible; I had three or four protein/granola bars and a cup of Chobani, but that was pretty much it. It's fine -- Adderall is an appetite suppressant and normally it doesn't affect me because I'm home all day and like to eat, but actual hunger isn't an issue and as long as I make sure I get some calories in my face every few hours, blood sugar wasn't either. This is why I brought a literal dozen protein bars.
Still nice to sit somewhere and eat what amounted to a big plate of protein and sugar.
Everyone I've interacted with has been super nice, too -- people don't know how to walk on the sidewalk, which my midwestern-transplant soul found almost actively rude, but I chalked it up to tourists the same way we do back home. All the "staff" I've dealt with -- airport attendants, train officials, waitstaff, museum staff, the guy at Sainsbury's -- have been super nice. It reminds me that some cities actually want to be tourist cities, unlike Chicago, which begrudgingly admits we need tourists but really would rather they all die horribly. There's being a good customer service staffer and then there's actually being a nice person and I think most of the folks I dealt with are the latter.
Tomorrow I go to the British Museum, and I'm kind of glad that mudlarking fell through, because I feel like I definitely am going to need the morning to do a little recovering from all the walking. I'm going to ice my feet tonight and that should help.
So yes, here I am, in the new time zone, plotting a heist getting ready for tomorrow. I've successfully taken several different trains and a bus, and I know at least two of my payment cards work overseas plus my phone, so all of the major problems I anticipated are non-problems in the end.
I'm hoping tomorrow morning to go back over my posts and add anything that's needed and maybe post a few more photos from today, but we'll see. I have no idea what time I'll wake up tomorrow if I go to bed in the next half hour. Exciting to find out!
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