#shelf. sorted all our clean laundry (which was a lot). and a lot of little things

[running-in-the-dark]

it seems like I either feel bad (mentally) for not doing enough, or I feel bad (physically) for doing too much. or both at the same time, somehow.

[lubdubsworld]

City Lights . ( Namjoon x OC)

Pairing : OC x Kim Namjoon.

Genre : Angst. Romance.

Rating 18 + 

Word Count : 2900

Warnings :  Mature Themes , Explicit Sexual Content . Slow burn. Like slower than a snail.

Summary :

Widowed and destitute, Son Yang Mi leaves the comfort of her small , secluded  fishing village and travels to the intimidating city of Seoul with her young son. She has a plan, one that involves finding a job, getting her son into a good school and building a life for herself.

Now, three years later she has a job , working as a live in house keeper for the Kim family, specifically for the son,  Kim Namjoon, a famous rapper and producer. 

Its a job that puts a roof over her head and she’ll do anything to keep it. 

But fate has other plans.

Chapter 1 ~

Akogare (ah-koh-ga-reh)Often translated directly as a sort of frustrated “yearning”, “desire”, or “longing” .

Seoul in summer was a sight to behold. I blinked back against the bright sunlight, staring out into the stunning skyline of the city as the sun rose over it , and although it was just a little past seven in the morning, the air was warm and invigorating. The mid July sun shone down with no mercy, and there was no trace of the rain that had lashed city just the previous night.

It had been three whole years but the relief that came from breathing fresh air, untainted by the damp musk of fishing trowels and sweaty men, was still unrivalled.

I shook off the feather duster in my hand, moving to carefully clean the wicker woven chairs on the artificial lawn in the balcony. Dusting the entire condo down was a mind numbing exercise in patience, so i tried to get it out of the way, early in the morning when my son was still asleep.

At six years old, Junsu was a bright , happy child. Summer vacation meant days sleeping in and evenings spent frolicking with the other kids in the building and he was content with being alone in our small shared room, reading or playing with his toys while I went about the day’s work.

I glanced at the clock, grimacing.

It was almost eight . And although Mr. Kim wasn’t due back home for another twelve hours, I felt a little jittery and nervous.

Kim Namjoon , renowned rapper, producer, writer , poet and what not. The apartment was his but he was usually on tour, traveling all over the world to promote his book and to perform in sold out stadiums. For an A list celebrity, he was surprisingly humble.

For the past three years, him and his model fiancée  Lee Mina had spent a total of maybe seven months in the condo. They were a sweet couple, or so I’d always thought , a bit formal with each other but clearly in love . Mr. Kim was a kind, soft spoken young man and I’d never heard him raise his voice unless he was in the company of his very dear friends.

Just a little over a week ago , both of them  had left Korea for the States , the tabloids screaming about a luxurious destination wedding in the Caribbean and I had been asked to take a few weeks off . The newly weds wouldn’t be back for quite a while and they would let me know when I had to come back to the condo.

I’d been toying with the idea of visiting my in laws in Gwangyog, maybe even dropping by to see some old friends there but yesterday , Mr. Kim’s mother had given me a call letting me know her son was coming home. 

[ 

The conversation went something like this :

Yang Mi, I hope you haven’t left yet?

No, Ma'am, I haven’t.

Joon-ah is going to be back tomorrow.

Oh, is Ms Lee arriving as well?

No, Just him He’s going to be alone.

Yes, Ma'am.

Please don’t mention anything about Mina or the wedding.

No ma'am of course not.

I’ll drop by later . Cook him something warm and filling. And make sure the house is cleaned well.

Yes, Ma’ am.

]

And that was that.

~~~~~~

It took the better part of the day to finish cleaning and setting up the house . I washed the window slats, changed the sheets, arranged the books that had been left scattered all over his bedroom. The walk-in closet was littered with a bunch of his clothes and I made sure his gym bag was stocked with fresh towels, spare clothes and his favorite head and wrist bands. 

For someone so careful and calculated, he was really quite a messy man. 

i did his laundry, making sure he had ample clothes at least for another two weeks, creasing the handkerchiefs and carefully removing lint from his jackets. 

I also carefully sorted out the feminine clothing from the laundry and from the cupboard, folding them neatly and placing them in the lowest shelf of the closet, where he wouldn’t find them. It wasn’t hard, hiding traces of his fiancee from the condo, because it had never really been her home. other than a few spare pieces of underwear and a couple of t shirts and skirts, there weren’t many articles of clothing belonging to Ms. Lee. 

But I still got rid of the bobby pins and hair ties, the spare lip gloss and mascara.

Junsu spent the entire day in our room, reading and drawing, only venturing out every few hours to grab a snack. I left him with his drawing tab ( a gift from Mr. Kim for his 5th birthday )  and his favorite book, asking the security guard at the end of the hallway to keep an eye on the door, while i went out to buy groceries.

Lots of meat, no sea food, healthy snacks and high protein fiber bars. I stocked up on sauces and bought a fresh batch of eggs, oranges and grapes . Mrs. Kim had sent a large amount of kimchi a few weeks ago and that was still in the pantry.

i stopped for a second, staring around at the almost deserted store. Most of the other housekeepers shopped at the bigger, more exclusive store on the other side of the residential complex. But Mr. Kim had a very selective palette, which meant that I had to be very particular about the brands i bought.

When i came back home at around six, Junsu was on the floor in the living space and i felt my heart jump in panic.

“Baby!! I’ve told you not to come out here when I’m not home!” I protested bleakly and he pouted.

“I need to show you my gift for Mr. Kim!!” He said softly. I smiled moving to put away the groceries and glancing at the clock. It was a little past six. I had to call Yungyu.

“Did you draw him something ? “ I asked curiously, checking to see if the beer shelf was stocked. probably should have done that before going out for the groceries, I thought regretfully.

“Yeah! Look!!” Junsu held his tab out and my heart dropped.

For a six year old, Junsu drew very well. And there was really no mistaking the very obvious wedding scene on the screen.

Oh, Good God.

“ That looks amazing honey.” I said gently. “ But, I heard that Ms Lee isn’t coming over this time..”

Junsu frowned.

“Why?”

“Well, I’m not sure. But remember how we spoke about saying the right things? When something upsets someone, we do not bring it up.” I reminded him gently. My son hesitated but nodded.

“Okay. I’m sorry. “ He said softly.

“No baby, its not your fault. It’s just that we want Mr. Kim to be happy right? We don’t wanna upset him...”

He smiled at that.

“When he’s happy, his dimples come out.” He said with a giggle. I laughed.

“yes they do... So let’s try and get those dimples out as often as we can alright? Why don’t you show him that picture you drew of yeontan the other day? He’ll really like that....”

“Okay...but i need to go color it!” Junsu yelled, already running back into our room. I watched him go before reaching for the phone and dialing, Yungyu, the chauffeur.

“Are you on the way here? ” i said briskly.

“Just starting from home...” Yungyu muttered, “ I’m supposed to be on vacation now! Why is he coming back so soon?” 

“Just hurry up !! We can’t keep him waiting!!” I said sharply, before hanging up. 

I made a quick check of all the rooms, filling up water bottles for his gym routine in the morning and stashing them in the fridge before moving to get dinner started. 

i set the water on boil for the stew, before moving to peel cucumbers for the salad. I chopped the cucumber , along with some fresh cherry tomatoes . I watched the water boil, thinly slicing an onion and adding it to the bowl as well. The dressing was pretty simple,  soy sauce, rice vinegar, honey and sesame oil . I sprinkled some sesame seeds on the bowl, used the salad tongs to give the whole thing a nice toss and set it aside. 

I braised the chicken first , peeling and chopping potatoes and carrots to add to the stew . In a few minutes, the rich smell of lightly spiced chicken and garlic and perilla  leaves began filling the kitchen and I turned on the rice cooker as well. 

The door bell rang at six forty and i opened the door to reveal Yungyu. 

I grabbed the keys to the Palisade, handing them over to him.

“Did you hear?” He whispered urgently.

I frowned.

“What?”

“They say Mr. Kim called off the wedding!” He whispered, wide eyed. 

I glared at him.

“Who told you that?” i demanded...

“Seojoon from the gate said-”

“Why don’t you ask Seojoon from the gate to mind his own damn business?” I snapped. 

Yungyu looked suitably chastised. i felt a little bad. Yungyu was still young and curiosity was hardly a sin. 

“His flight lands at eight exactly. Hurry okay?” I said with a smile, ruffling his hair.

He brightened, peering over my shoulder into the house.

“Where’s the little one?” He asked curiously.

“ Painting something for Mr. Kim... Go ahead, hurry up.” I shooed him away, locking the door behind him. I fixed a plate of food for Junsu and sent him to eat, before moving to check on the stew. +

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~` 

By the time eight thirty rolled around I had the table set and ready. I washed my face quickly in the small bath attached to our room , making sure I was dressed well. Junsu wasn’t allowed in the main house unless Mr. Kim specifically asked for him and my son usually stayed in. 

Junsu and I stayed in a bedroom , not large by any means but big enough for a queen sized bed, a table and chair for Junsu and small dresser where I kept a comb and a tube of night cream. I stared at my face, licking my lips as I smoothed my hair out. 

I glanced at the bed. 

Junsu was asleep , having dozed off while coloring his picture and I carefully extracted the tab from under his fingers, moving him around to lay on the soft pillows. I tucked him in gently, brushing the hair off his face. 

“In peace , I will lie down to sleep, for You alone will let me rest in safety.” I whispered gently against his forehead, kissing the soft skin. I felt my lips wobble , a debilitating wave of affection flooding me as the sweet scent of my baby, filled my senses.

 I would die for you, I thought fiercely, kissing him again. 

The sound of the front door opening made me jump. 

Swearing, i smoothed the fabric of my skirt, running to the kitchen. 

“Thank you for picking me up Yungyu, I’m sorry you had to cut short on your vacation.” Mr. Kim’s deep voice filled the hallway and I quickly grabbed a glass, filling it with water and placing it on the dinner tray.

“Not a problem, Sir. “ Yungyu’s cheerful voice responded.

“How are you going home?” Mr. Kim asked. 

“I’ll take the bus.”

A pause and then, 

“Here’s some cash. Get a cab.” 

I could hear the relief in Yungyu’s voice as he let out a , “ Thank you sir.” 

I fixed his plate carefully, the bowl of rice, the bowl of chicken stew, and the salad neatly arranged next to the napkin and the chopsticks. I heard him move across the condo, the sound of his suitcases as he wrestled them towards his bedroom and I frowned. Yungyu should’ve have brought those in for him. 

I finished reheating all of the food and carefully carried the dinner tray to the bedroom. 

Mr. Kim’s bedroom was right at the end of the hallway and the door was open. The full length mirror on the opposite wall showed him sitting on the small couch in his room, legs spread and elbows resting on his knees as he ran his fingers through his hair. 

I raised my hand, ready to knock on the wood. 

“Fuck!” He shouted, kicking out at the coffee table with enough force to send the furniture skidding half way across the room. 

I froze in the hallways stunned. 

“You’re such a fucking fool , Namjoon !!” He muttered angrily and I swallowed, turning on my heel and quickly walking back to the kitchen. 

Maybe I ought to wait till he asked for dinner.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He didn’t ask for dinner. 

I stayed sitting on the floor of the kitchen, waiting and lightly dozing as I heard him talk to his parents on the phone. I heard him open the liquor cabinet in his room, the sound of ice sloshing against glass, the sound of whiskey being poured carefully and i sighed. 

I had to get to bed. It was already a little past eleven. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sometime in the night, I woke up sweating.... 

Wondering what woke me up, I blinked groggily, glancing at Junsu. He was still sound asleep. 

Sighing, I climbed out of the bed, carefully making my way to Mr. Kim’s room, peering in carefully. 

He was asleep on the sofa.

I stared at the way his long legs stretched over the armrest, his lean hips twisted to accommodate his broad shoulders on the couch and I winced. He was definitely going to regret that in the morning. 

I stared at the half empty bottle of whiskey on the table and sighed, moving to take off his shoes carefully. He didn’t stir. 

I grabbed a pillow from the bed, carefully lifting his head and slipping it under. I placed a comforter over his shoulders, pulling it down to cover his legs. 

Force of habit almost made me brush his hair off his forehead but I stopped myself. 

The clock on the wall read three fifty am. God, I was going to feel terrible tomorrow. I carefully tip toed out, shutting the door behind me

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I picked the comforter from the floor, carefully folding it and placing it on the bed, before grabbing the empty bottle of whiskey and glass . i could hear the shower running. The curtains were still drawn in and I tugged on the strings to get them to open. Sunlight spilled in through the floor length windows. The bed wasn’t slept in, so I opened the closet to grab a couple of towels, laying them on the bed for him. 

The bathroom door opened and i quickly straightened, wanting to race out of the room but it was too late. Thankfully he was dressed,  a pair of loose sweats and a loose t shirt . He was running a towel through his hair and his face brightened at the sight of me. 

“Yang Mi! You’re here....” He said cheerfully. 

“Good morning sir.” I said softly, offering him a small smile. 

He smiled brightly, hair damp and dimples deep. The white t shirt he had on was almost fully soaked through and he shook his head, sending stray water droplets all over the place, a few landing on my cheeks. 

“I didn’t see you last night...” He said casually, moving to drop the wet towel in the hamper, grabbing one of the fresh ones I’d laid on the bed. 

“I thought you would like your privacy sir, you looked exhausted.” 

He smiled.

“ Thank you for the blanket and the pillow by the way. And the shoes.” 

I bowed quickly.

“I’ll get your breakfast done, sir.” I bowed again before quickly getting out. 

I moved to the kitchen grabbing the oranges I’d got the previous day . Mr. Kim wasn’t fond of traditional korean dishes in the morning. He preferred freshly squeezed juice and toast, sometimes with an omelet perhaps. 

I fixed his breakfast quickly, setting it all in the tray . He was still moving around in the bedroom and I heard him drag his worktable to the windows, which meant he was going to stay in the bedroom. 

Pouring his coffee into a cup, I carefully picked up the breakfast tray , moving to his room slowly. 

I used my foot to knock on the door.

After a pause of a few seconds, 

“Come in Yang Mi!”

I carefully moved to the small table in front of the couch, placing the tray right in front of him. The scent of his body wash, green apple and strawberries, hit me hard. 

“Where’s Junsu?” He asked casually.

“Still asleep sir. It’s Summer so school’s out.” I smiled, grabbing his phone from the table to make space for his tray. 

The phone buzzed just as I was about to place it back down and I blinked.

 Mina calling.......

 I swallowed, not sure what to do, placing the phone down quickly.

“Uh..you have ...” I waved vaguely at the device before bowing again and moving back. 

“close the door on your way out, Yang Mi...” He said gently and I quickly obeyed. 

I moved to the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee for myself. I stayed leaning over the counter and even through the locked door, I could hear him . 

“Just don’t call me Mina...i don’t want to talk about this!!!” 

I swallowed, glancing out of the window again. It was a bright, clear morning. 

A second later, the door to his bedroom slammed open and he stormed out. I watched him from my spot in the kitchen, his fists clenched as he rushed out to the front door.

The door shut behind him and I exhaled. 

Once I as done with my coffee, I moved to his room to clear the breakfast tray. His phone was still on the table.

It began ringing again just as I left the room. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Mrs. Kim.” i said respectfully, bowing . She gave me a short smile.

“Where’s Namjoon? I’ve been calling him for the past hour.” She pushed past me into the house and I bit my lips.

“He went out about an hour ago. He left his phone behind.” I explained.

She stopped, sighing. 

“Fine, I’ll wait for him. “ She moved to sit on the couch, glancing around the room. 

“Should I get you something ma'am?” I asked softly and she smiled.

“Get me a glass of lemonade, Yangmi.” She said brusquely and i nodded, running to the kitchen. 

“Did Mina come over?” She called out as I got the lemons out of the cooler.

“No ma'am.” i replied.

“Did she call?” 

  I remembered the phone ringing, how upset it had made Namjoon, how he had stormed out.

“I don’t know ma'am!” I said softly. 

She nodded.

“Okay. You can leave.” She said quietly. i bowed and went back into the kitchen. 

I peered out of the window as I fixed her a glass , and my eyes fell on a familiar figure, coming back in through the front gate. Even from this distance there was no mistaking the long legs and messy blonde hair. 

I bit my lips, mind racing.

 Mrs Kim and her son had a volatile relationship, to say the least. 

And something told me that Mr. Kim was probably not in the right frame of mind to argue with his mother, now. The man was upset but apparently, neither his mother nor his ex fiancée understood that. instead of giving him space they were hounding him. 

I hesitated for a second  before making a quick decision. 

I grabbed the tray with her lemonade and moved to her quickly.

“Thank you.” She said sharply. “ Turn on the Air Conditioner for me, will you?” 

I fumbled with the remote, grabbing his phone from the table , turning it on before moving to the front door and rushing out. 

I almost ran into him as he came out of the elevator , and i jerked back stumbling a bit to stop myself from crashing into his chest. He let out a , ‘ Whoa, “  his hands reaching out to grip my elbows. 

“Careful. What’s wrong?” He asked gently and I swallowed.

“Your mother’s here.” I said quickly, “ Sir.” 

“Oh, fuck.” He groaned. I swallowed.

“You can leave.” I blurted out. “It’s Tuesday. She has her charity work meeting at ten. Its almost nine. She won’t stay long....” 

His eyes met mine, lips parting in surprise. 

“I really can’t meet her now.” He said apologetically.

I nodded.

“Of course, I understand , sir. Just be back in an hour , she’ll be go-”

The elevator buzzed , the doors nearly closing over my shoulders and I flinched. He swore and stuck his arm out to keep it open. 

I stared at him before holding his phone out.

“Here you go sir. “ 

He chuckled taking it from me and shaking his head.

“i feel like a kid, sneaking away from my mom.” His eyes reached mine, twinkling, “ Who would’ve thought the quiet, timid Yang Mi would be my partner in crime. “ 

I didn’t reply, just smiled. 

And then he hesitated. “ Is Junsu awake?”

I blinked.

“Uh...yes sir,...he’s playing in the park downstairs with the other kids.”

“Great... Would you mind if i take him out for ice cream?”

I stared at him. 

“Oh..uh...of course not. Sure.. I mean.. he’ll love that... Sir. Thank you.. You don’t have to -”

“Consider it thank you for helping me with my mother.” He smiled again and i found myself staring at his dimples again. i swallowed. 

“in that case, he loves butter scotch.” I smiled. 

The dimples appeared and i bit my lips. 

“Thank you Yang Mi.” He said slowly. 

“Yes, Sir.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s Note : Finally a hyungline fic !!! ugh... I’ve been wanting to write a Namjoon fic for ages and I really hope you guys will like this one :’( Feedback is much appreciated. 

[alloftheimaginess]

AD INTERVIEW

Other parts

Jared Padalecki

Misha Collins

Jensen Ackles

This part sucks ass but I low key like it. I’ll probably end up redoing it soon

"Hello welcome Ad" I say opening the front door for the camera crew and Alex comes up behind me, wrapping his arm around my shoulder.

"I'm Yn Calvert" I say.

"And I'm Alexander Calvert, come right in" he says and I smile up at him.

"This house was built by my great great grandmother when she was in her 20's and then it was a gift to my great grandparents on their wedding night and then it was given to my grandparents and then my parents and then when Alex and I got married my mom handed us the keys" I say.

"We're currently in the middle of upgrading and rebuilding everything and we've been working on it for three years now" Alex says.

"This is our living room" I say as we walk in to it.

"This is honestly my favorite room in the house, when we're actually staying here the boys and I spend a lot of time in here, playing games, playing the piano and having quiet reading time" I say.

"I learned with kids a while ago that we can't have all the fancy things and I'm cool with with that because I enjoy the family vibes we created" I say going to the wall that holds all the photos.

"This is Misha on his first day of kindergarten" I say pointing to the photo.

"I cried harder than he did" I say laughing.

"This is a picture from our wedding night, I adore this picture so much because all of the couples can be seen dancing around us, I remember this moment because Flicker by Niall Horan was playing and at that point it was one of my favorite songs and right there you can see Jared and his wife being all cute" I say pointing it out.

"All the art you see in here is made by two of Yn's sisters who run an art shop" Alex says.

"They've been painting ever since we were young and the work they put out is amazing and every time we get a visitor they always ask where I got it from and I can easily promote my siblings" I say laughing.

"Over here is our kitchen" Alex says walking up the two step departing our kitchen from our living room.

"We tore down the wall because we wanted the open space, all the natural light and when I'm making dinner I can keep an eye out on the kids and they can eat their snacks at the table and watch tv or play the game while I'm doing whatever I need to do" I say.

"Let me show you my favorite part about the kitchen" Alex says leading them over to the sink.

"Yn cooks dinner pretty much every night which leaves me and the boys with the clean up and they like how big the sink is" he says showing off our farmhouse sink.

"Makes washing dishes so much easier and Aj use to take a lot of baths in here" he says patting the sink and I laugh.

"You sound like you're trying to convince everyone to get one" I say and he laughs with me.

"Maybe I am" he says taking them to the other room.

"Over here is where our dining room was but we don't use it so we made it into a branch off living room" Alex says.

"We celebrate the holidays here and it's perfect for Christmas when we have our families and friends here and the living room is taken, we have these two ceiling chairs and then some cushions and bean bags I like to think of it as a sort of cozy corner, this usually turns into the kids hang out spot when there's a group of them because we have the gaming tv here and they can just lounge and enjoy whatever game they are playing" I say.

"The backyard is what I'm probably proudest of" I say opening the folding sliding glass doors and we step outside.

"We have the pool over there completely gated off because Aj can't fully swim yet and he likes to play outside when I'm on the patio writing" I say.

"And on that side we have the boys playhouse from Charmed Playhouses, Yn seen a picture of one and she fell in love with them and decided that the boys needed to have a Harry Potter themed playhouse" he says.

"It's literally so cool in there, I should have just walked you to the playhouse and did a tour of that" I say laughing.

"We got Harry Potter because I've always been a massive fan and Misha when he was around three he fell in love with it and I knew I had to do it plus it's perfect for both boys and girls" I say.

"Now up the stairs on the right we have the office" I say sliding the glass sliding door open and stepping inside and Alex follows me in.

"There's not a lot here" I say.

"We're currently working on expanding this room because Alex has his desk and I want a space where I can put all of my art stuff so we're in the middle of that" I say.

"This is also where Yn keeps her awards because she's too embarrassed to show them off so she keeps them tucked away up here where she can glance at them to remind her that she can always be better" he says moving the picture frames they are behind.

"This is the hallway" I say and Alex laughs.

"Yn loves this hallway" he says.

"I do, I love it so much" I say giggling and I stop walking.

"This is why I love this hallway so much" I say pointing at the pictures.

"My family is very big and very all over the place. From my birth dad I have six siblings and on my moms side I have five and it's like crazy trying to get everyone together and when I found out I was pregnant with Mish everyone came and they showed up and I managed to get a few decent shots out of it" I say laughing.

"And next to that I have my all time favorite picture of me and my baby sister Zendaya at the oscars in 2015. It's a photo from the red carpet and I was telling her I was pregnant and this was her reaction" I say laughing.

"Moving on, the first room we have belongs to Misha, they are both down for a nap right now in Aj's room so I can show off Misha's room" I say opening the door and stepping inside.

"My mom actually designed this room for him and she put it together while we were in Canada while Alex was filming so we came back to it and it was a nice surprise, Misha loved it more than anything" I say laughing.

"She got him a moving bookshelf and every time we go to the store he asks for a book so he can add them to the book shelf so that way no one will know which books opens the bookshelf" he says tipping the book back and it slides open.

"This is his 'hey Misha clean your room bub guests are coming' hiding spot" I say.

"Gets the job done" Alex says and I laugh rolling my eyes.

"Until I have to come in behind him and clean it" I say.

"This is the game room" I say.

"It has all of the games your mind could ever imagine" Alex says opening the doors under where the tv sits and it is stuffed with games.

"Texas thunderstorms have taught us that we can never have enough games or candles to entertain us when we lose power or when it storms so much the boys are up all night" I say.

"Next is our bedroom" I say stopping at the closed double doors and I push them open.

"This is where the magic happens" he says and I laugh rolling my eyes and I step in.

"Our bedroom was one of the first things we did when we moved in, we tore it apart and with the help of my best friend slash Alex's fake father and his wife and we rebuilt this room in about two to three weeks and it was like the best time of my life" I say.

"In this little hole is where we keep Misha when guest come so we can pretend we did all the work around here" he says and I laugh.

"You're an idiot" I say and he laughs with me.

"This is a laundry chute, there's one in the main rooms such as ours, Misha's and Aj's and they can just send the clothes right to the basket which then I can just dump into the washer" he says and I nod.

"Plus there's never any clothes lying around, everyone should have one of these" I say.

"Through here is our bathroom and closet" he says opening the door and we go inside.

"It's just a bathroom it's nothing special to me but to Yn it is everything" he says and I press the button and the shelves come out the cabinet.

"It's my vanity but when I'm done I can put it away and not worry about anything getting messed up ever and I love it because everything is unorganized but you can't see the clutter" I say getting off of the pouf and I go into the closet.

"This is probably the most extreme room we have in our house because honestly I'm addicted to shopping and I need the space. I always wanted like the closet that Hannah Montana had and I didn't get it but honestly this one has hers beat so I'm not complaining" I say and Alex laughs.

"Like I said about the bathroom I don't get it" he says and I laugh.

"And the last room" I say opening the door showing off the nursery and I step inside them following me.

"You're the first ones that aren't apart of our inner circle to find out and we want to use this video as an announcement" Alex says and I nod.

"This nursery is for our princess who we are happy to announce will be born in four months" Alex says. "January 1st" I say smiling at the camera.

[onthevirgeofdestruction]

Dreaming While I Wake

Sanders Sides Foster Care AU - Roman-centric Angst & Hurt/Comfort & Abuse Recovery

Roman tries to be upbeat and hopeful despite all the shit that’s happened to him. And a lot of shit has. Luckily, his new foster home is with two literal rays of sunshine (and a sarcastic asshole).

Words: 3,263 Warnings: Food, Food Insecurity Mention, Forcing Self to Eat Something Mention, Negative Self-Talk, Negative Self-Image, Video Game Violence, Dogs Characters: Roman, Thomas Universe: Dreaming While I Wake Genre: Vibing™ too hard and a bit of angst, as a treat

Chapter 24

chapter 1 for new readers - ffn mirror

   Roman kicked off his shoes at the foot of his bed and dropped his backpack next to his desk. He was tired, what’s new. His feet finally hurt less, at least. He was also immensely grateful to say that for once he didn’t have to spend all night on homework. He had something due at the end of the week, but he didn’t have to do it tonight. He was terrible at starting homework early anyway, so there was no point in trying today.

   Part of him was glad that the Sanders didn’t kick him back so he wouldn’t have to be doing this all over again at a new school. He’d only had two families that returned right away, but he did much less awful shit at their houses than he did here. It only made sense that they would send him away, but he didn’t mind still being here. They’d probably see reason eventually, so Roman shouldn’t get his hopes up or anything.

   A snack and breaking out the art supplies sounded like a pleasant way to pass the time. He’d sketched something he really liked in English, and he wanted to give it a proper go and not on thin notebook paper. The coffee table was glass, so he could transfer it to his sketchbook with that. He gathered the supplies he needed and headed back downstairs, dropping off the stuff on the coffee table and heading into the kitchen for a bite to eat.

   The pantry didn’t really reveal anything appetizing. He’d had mostly chips after school lately so he didn’t want those, and they’d long since finished those peanut butter filled pretzels much to Roman’s dismay. Roman scanned the fridge and freezer. He could have a healthy snack of an apple or something… or he could make some of those biscuits made entirely out of cheese they had with dinner last night and dip them in pizza sauce. The answer was obvious. He pulled out the cheese biscuits and lined them up on parchment paper in the toaster oven on the counter. He cooked a few extras in case a wild Virgil appeared. He seemed to have junk food sensing powers.

   Roman went to the coffee table to clear off some space to use it. The more he removed, the more it revealed it hadn’t been cleaned in a while. Spills and fingerprints would mess with his ability to use the table as a lightbox, so he grabbed the glass cleaner and a rag to clean it off. After cleaning both sides of the coffee table, he noticed the other glass in the living room was a little smudged up. The cabinet windows on the entertainment center had doggy nose prints on the lower parts, along with the windows. He already had it in his hands, so why not? Roman passed through and cleaned up all the glass in the living area, the mirror in the front hall, the microwave and stove door, and the window in the kitchen.

   The toaster oven dinged and distracted him from cleaning off the front of the dishwasher. He had completely forgotten he’d put those in. Roman wiped the last corner of the dishwasher and washed the ammonia off his hands, leaving the cleaner and rag on the counter. He grabbed a plate and served himself half of the biscuits and dumped a little pizza sauce from the jar on his plate. Some part of his mind registered that they were fresh out of the toaster oven, but he picked one up to dip like an idiot and burned his fingers, anyway.

   Roman grumbled while he ran his fingertips under cold water at the sink. He pulled them out to check if they were better yet, but they were still hot, so he kept them under the water a little longer. Virgil appeared as expected, which cheered Roman back up a bit. The idea of Virgil having junk food senses was funny, and he loved it when Virgil proved him right.

   “I made you some, too,” Roman motioned with his head to the toaster oven. Virgil grinned wildly and just stole Roman’s plate and left the kitchen. Roman laughed out loud at the audacity of this bitch and shook his head. He pulled his fingers out again, and they felt fine now, so he served himself the other half in the same manner. He had the good sense to get a fork this time. He threw out the parchment paper and sat at the table, pulling out his phone to wait for his food to cool down. He saw the date and realized he probably needed to do laundry, so he got up to head upstairs and grab his basket.

   He long since hasn’t needed to sort out his clothes into loads. His brights and darks were already all faded, and he only had a few whites, not enough to do a load with bleach. He just dumped the entire basket in the wash and put in some laundry sauce, starting the wash and bringing the basket back upstairs.

   Roman stared around his room, not remembering what he was doing last. He paused and concerned if there was anything he needed to do. Probably clean his bedroom? There wasn’t much to pick up, just a few art supplies were out for some reason. He didn’t have that many things in his name to mess up. His loose stuff like old keepsakes or hobby items all fit in one drawer in the dresser, so it was easy to keep clean. But he should come back up to wipe off his desk with an all-purpose cleaner and dust. Roman yawned and returned downstairs for some water and to grab the cleaners.

   He put away the filter pitcher and drank water, noticing his snack on the table. Oh. Roman chuckled to himself and sat down at the table, eating his four cheese biscuits and pizza sauce. He had completely forgotten he made them. They were at an edible temperature now, though. Convenient forgetfulness, for once.

   After rinsing the dishes, Roman grabbed the duster and all-purpose cleaner to go handle his room. He dusted some shelves in the living room as he passed, just because he had noticed they were dusty and covered in dog fur. They mentioned they got a maid service once a month for that. How could Lita possibly produce this much wiry fur? Baffling. Roman headed upstairs to clean his bedroom.

   Dusting the bookshelf in his room revealed that Lita must not come in here much since there was barely any dog fur on it compared to the downstairs. He was relatively certain Lita just napped in Thomas and Patton’s room until Patton appeared or something fun happened. Roman dusted off the books, his dresser, the desk, and the nightstand, then wiped down surfaces. There were plenty of eraser bits and broken pencil leads after the cluster-fuck of homework he had to do. Cleaning off the homework wreckage and such from the desk made it look much nicer, despite his pile of books and papers he hadn’t quite gotten around to organizing into something nicer looking yet. He organized his colored pencils by the rainbow in the organizer and took the cleaners back downstairs to put away.

   What the hell was he doing again? Roman put the cleaners back on the shelf in the laundry room. He swore he was doing something. He had no idea what he was doing. The washer was going, which reminded him he started that. Maybe that was the thing. He clearly still had time to wait, though. Video games? Video games. Roman headed out to the living room and paused to make sure no one else was coming in to use the TV. Virgil didn’t reappear, and Thomas wasn’t even in his office. Seemed safe enough to him. There were quests to be had and demons to slay. Roman switched the TV input and turned on the game system to play, settling down on the floor in front of the TV to kick some lich ass.

   Having free afternoons was a weird experience. Weirder than the forced days off, since he was kind of stuck in a room with Thomas for those. But this was totally up to him. He couldn’t remember the last time he had so much free time completely to himself. It was… wrong? It felt wrong. But also nice. It was wrrice. No. That was dumb. Whatever. He had an amulet that unlocked a labyrinth. Fuck real life. He made sure he had enough healing items and repaired his armour, absolutely raring to go venture into it.

   Something warm pressed into his thigh while he was fighting some goblins and jumped. He paused the game and glanced down. Lita had laid her head on his lap and was looking up to him pleadingly. Roman couldn’t help himself from melting a little and cooing, dropping his controller to scratch her behind her ears. Lita’s tongue bleped out and Roman could have died. He pet her a few times and she got up and trotted over to the back door and stared longingly at Roman. Roman got up to let her outside and followed her out. Lita bolted into the yard and ran it in three loops before stopping to sniff around near the tree in the backyard and used the restroom. She stuck her tongue out and happily cantered back over to the door. Roman headed back in and returned to his game when Lita went to go get some water.

   Things in the labyrinth were going well, but they were intense. He went into a room that had a bunch of greater liches in it and he nearly bit the dust fighting them all. He got plenty of potions from the room, but it miffed him that he didn’t get something cool like a weapon or rare item. Single-handedly killing four evil wraiths at the same time should have at least gotten some new boots. He saved and continued forward, anyway.

   “Hey, Roman,” He vaguely heard someone say while he was eyeballing a hallway that looked like it might have a trap.

   “Hey,” Roman responded automatically. Traps meant the game was protecting something, probably. He was tempted. Roman made sure he healed up and put poison immunity on and headed down the hall. The poison immunity paid off, but he should have done something to resist fire damage since he killed three potions from all the burn damage. He was rewarded with a giant skeleton monster and a better sword, though. Vindication! He saved again and kept going forward.

   “Do you want anything for dinner?” Someone asked and Roman chewed on his lip while he thought and killed a small army of evil rats.

   “Roast boar would be helpful,” Roman suggested after pondering it for a second. He could use a fortitude boost right now. The rats didn’t do a lot of damage, but it was impossible to dodge them all.

   “In the real world, Roman,” The voice sounded bemused. Oh shit. Roman paused the game and rubbed his incredibly dry eyes.

   “Sorry,” Roman muttered, wishing for moisture to return to his burning eyes.

   “It’s fine,” Thomas sighed and laughed a little. “I can relate, honestly. But I’m just about to cook dinner and want to know if anything sounds good,” He said genially.

   “Oh, um, ask Virgil,” Roman supplied and rubbed his face again. When was the last time he blinked and how long were his eyebrows furrowed?

   “Is there a reason you’re not wearing the gloves?” Thomas inquired. Roman turned around and saw Thomas leaning over the back of the couch. Roman froze and looked at his ungloved hands. Whoops.

   “Uh, I forgot to put them back on, honestly,” Roman replied sheepishly. “I promise I didn’t freak out about anything while they were off, though,” Roman added. Well, maybe he did a little at school, but his arms were untouched, so he must not have panicked badly enough to do any damage. Gym class was stressful again. He hadn’t gotten back grades on his packets and he hadn’t attracted a random bully or anything yet, so things were mostly okay. The people in his morning English class even friended him on twitter. Though he hoped he had implied he took the gloves off more recently than after he got to school in the morning.

   “All right. Do you mind putting them back on?” Thomas requested, sounding less peeved and more concerned. Roman nodded hastily and leaned back to get them out of his jeans pocket to slide them on. Thomas sighed with relief. “Just for my own mollification, show me your arms?” Thomas made a twisting motion with his finger. Roman turned around and held them straight out and rotated them for Thomas to see. Thomas smiled and nodded, apparently mollified. “Thanks. I appreciate you putting up with them for me. So, dinner? I already asked Virgil. I want to know if you want anything,” Thomas said pointedly.

   “I’ll eat anything, it’s fine,” Roman said dismissively.

   “I know you’ll eat anything, but I still don’t know what food you actually like to eat,” Thomas urged, looking inquisitively at Roman.

   “I like your cooking. Patton’s is seasoned oddly sometimes, but it’s all been fine,” Roman replied with a small shrug.

   “Patton’s cooking used to be significantly worse. I made him take a few cooking classes. He used to think five tablespoons was a reasonable amount of seasoning for anything. The grill incident wasn’t the only time we had to throw food out because we couldn’t eat it,” Thomas responded and shook his head with a light chuckle. Roman stared at Thomas in amazement. Did they actually throw out edible food?

   “That… why?” Roman asked incredulously. “That’s… food,” Roman stammered out, completely baffled by this information.

   “If it’s too disgusting to eat, then it’s too disgusting to eat,” Thomas raised his eyebrow and said something redundant.

   “I can’t… even,” Roman felt like his mind was melted. If it was turned into a charcoal brick by a fireball, that was one thing. But trashing it just because something was seasoned badly? That didn’t make any sense.

   “Okay,” Thomas drawled curiously. “Well, is there anything you hate then?” He inquired and motioned towards Roman.

   “Um, there are some textures I don’t like, and I’m not a fan of brussel sprouts, but I won’t waste food,” Roman answered him, still feeling really confused.

   “We had brussel sprouts last weekend, and you ate some,” Thomas said, furrowing his eyebrows at Roman. “Why didn’t you say anything?” He asked, looking upset.

   “I already said I won’t waste food,” Roman repeated and looked curiously at Thomas.

   “So say if Patton made peas and there was half a container of pepper flakes in it, you’d eat it?” Thomas posited incredulously, looking at Roman intensely.

   “… Yeah?” Roman replied, not following what Roman was trying to get at. It was food. The texture from the flakes sounded awful, but he wouldn’t waste the food.

   “You are a braver man than I. Okay, so. No brussel sprouts. What about those textures?” Thomas questioned and drummed his fingers on the couch.

   “Oh, uh, how… Gritty stuff and stuff that is mushy when it… shouldn’t be? There are also some things that just sort of… hit my palette weird, but I don’t have any idea how to describe that,” Roman supplied. “It only makes me kind of sick, it’s fine, though,” Roman said, shaking his head.

   “You shouldn’t force yourself to eat food that makes you sick, Roman,” Thomas said emphatically and leaned on his arm while he looked a little frustrated.

   “I’m not that used to having options, Thomas,” Roman replied blithely and sighed. Even with the Finleys he just made what they bought him, and sometimes there wasn’t enough for him to eat a complete meal. He’d always take what he was given. It was better than starving.

   “Kid, I swear every time you open your mouth I feel the need to hug you and tell you that things are going to be okay,” Thomas exhaled hard as he held his head and shook it lightly.

   “I’m… sorry?” Roman apologized, not understanding what Thomas was trying to say. He didn’t know how Thomas put up with Roman annoying him all the time.

   “It’s not your fault. Is there anything we’ve made you particularly liked?” Thomas asked, running his hand through his hair and seeming a little discouraged. Roman paused for a moment while he waited for a further reaction, but Thomas just exhaled and patiently looked to Thomas for an answer. He didn’t seem as frustrated anymore, and Roman loosened back up.

   “That pizza you made was probably my favourite thing,” Roman responded brightly. “The stuffed chicken breasts were fantastic, too,” He added.

   “It’s even better if we let the dough rest overnight,” Thomas said temptingly, holding up a finger.

   “You’re kidding,” Roman eyed him curiously. He didn’t think he’d ever had pizza as amazing as Thomas’s in his life and he couldn’t comprehend how it could possibly be tastier.

   “Nope. How about I make some tonight so we can have it for dinner tomorrow?” Thomas offered with a small smile.

   “Show me how!” Roman nearly jumped up right there but caught himself, gripping at the floor.

   “Only if you pick what’s for dinner tonight,” Thomas pointed at Roman. Roman chewed his lip. He didn’t know what to choose. His shoulders slumped a bit, and he grabbed one of his fingers nervously. “Too hard?” Thomas asked softly.

   “I just don’t want… to pick wrong,” Roman admitted quietly. “What did Virgil say he wanted?” He inquired, hoping for at least a starting point.

   “Spicy and crunchy,” Thomas reported. “Picking meals is hard for him, so he usually just gives flavours or something like that. I read that choice paralysis is common with PTSD. Is it the same for you?” Thomas prodded and looked pointedly at Roman. Roman rolled his eyes and sighed. He managed to not say ‘I’m fine’ this time, at least. Maybe it was true for Roman, maybe it wasn’t and he was just dumb.

   “I, uh, I am completely blanking, to be honest,” Roman replied impassively, trying to think of dinner. He desperately wanted to learn how to make pizza dough. But he didn’t want to pick wrong.

   “Yeah, I assume it would have to be some sides or something. We don’t have the stuff for the things I usually make when he asks for that,” Thomas shrugged, tilting his head to the side.

   “Uh, tortilla soup?” Roman suggested. It was the easiest one to make of what he thought of. “I mean, it’s a bit hot for soup, but it’s spicy and crunchy,” He added a little sheepishly. Maybe that was stupid.

   “Oh, that’s perfect! I didn’t think of that. We can make that quickly in the pressure cooker, even. We’ll chase it with ice cream to cool down. Pat will be pleased about that, honestly. Save the game and I’ll show you how to make the pizza dough,” Thomas smiled and stood up straight. 

   Roman nodded rapidly and turned back around to save the game as fast as it would let him. His knee bobbed impatiently while he waited for the saving screen to finish processing. He didn’t know how to bake bread, and pizza dough was probably the coolest place to start. Roman nearly tripped as he rushed into the kitchen after Thomas.

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[etraytin]

Quarantine, Day 178

September 5 

A bit of late night journaling here because it was a busy day and I needed some decompression time after the kiddo and the kittens were safely asleep. Today was the day I set aside as our big cleaning day and have been warning the kiddo about for the past two days. To say he was unenthused would be putting it mildly. A lot of that is my fault because I am a lousy housekeeper and have never gotten him used to the simple pleasantness of a clean house, and to be honest I sort of agree with him when he says that he likes his room messy. I don't like, actually enjoy a messy room, but I do enjoy a room that requires none of my attention.

 I suspect that he and I share the common ADHD trait of visual static, where familiar things in your surroundings literally drop out of your mind's eye until you are required to notice them for some reason. I can be surrounded by old plates and stacks of mail and balls of yarn until they're nearly cocooning me and never notice until my husband sighs and starts picking up or nudging me to do it myself. Then I open that mind's eye and suddenly am grossed out and have to clean up. I am okay if the kiddo never becomes a fastidious man, but I do need to know that he will have an acceptable threshold of "this is gross and I must correct it." We have some work to do there. 

In any case, today we alternated working on our own rooms and on cleaning the living room. The strategy was a half hour on our rooms, a half hour on the living room, and then a half-hour's break, which included an episode of The Good Place. The first round was like pulling teeth. The kiddo was intensely whiny, did not want to do anything, demanded to know why we needed to clean, etc, etc, etc. I scolded him over the whiny voice and he complained in a normal voice, which was at least more bearable. Eventually, though, he did accustom himself to the idea that we would be cleaning today, especially with the deal sweetened with the promise of a Good Place marathon and something good to eat in the evening if we got a lot done. I also went in several times to help him with tricky bits in his room, places where the old papers or clutter had piled up in a way that threatened to overwhelm him, or in one case where he needed a new peg to fix his bookshelf. Luckily that shelf has given us enough trouble over the years that I had a whole package in my toolbox and we got it fixed up easily. 

After three rounds, so basically an hour and a half of work, his room looked not perfect, but much better than it had. Wonder of wonders, once the bed was made with fresh sheets and soft blankets, he decided that maybe he didn't want to sleep on the floor after all and snuggled into his real bed tonight for the first time in two months or more. (I have made up his bed nearly as many times as he has pulled the sheets off for fort-related purposes with no success in getting him to sleep in the bed,  but this time an extra-fuzzy blanket seems to have done the trick.) 

The living room was challenging because it's a place where a lot of our stuff tends to accumulate when it comes up from the car. Things come into the apartment and never quite get where they're going, so I have little snowdrifts of items in the corners, waiting for my attention. That's actually one reason I started cleaning by organizing our bedroom closets and other storage spaces, because I didn't have any places to put the things I needed to put away. Just putting stuff away took the majority of my cleaning time in there, followed closely by "fixing the damn vacuum cleaner again." It really has no capacity whatsoever for coping with cat hair. But we got the living room cleaned and vacuumed, even used furniture polish to spiff up the coffee table and got all the gross stuff out from under the couch cushions. Again not perfect, but so much better! An hour and a half was not enough to finish my room, which also wound up being the staging area for our major laundry project, but it got much better and I have continued picking at it throughout the evening. I need to figure out how to get the two massive contractor bags full of clothes to donate down to the truck. I may wind up taking some of each and putting them into a third bag because discretion is the better part of valor. Tomorrow is for finishing the bedroom and cleaning the kitchen, after which point the house is going to be in the best shape it's been all year. I'm quite proud of myself already! 

The kittens had a good day today, if by good I mean "eating like piranha and climbing on everything." They hit a milestone this morning when Robinton escaped the playpen and went wandering around on his own, so now the playpen tops have to be zipped when I'm not in the room. It won't be much longer before they can go into the three level kennel, but they have to figure out gravity and momentum a little better first. I didn't get to play with them as much as I'd have liked, but they got a couple half hour play sessions and of course they have lots of room and toys in the duplex playpen so it's not like they're deprived and lonely. And as much as they would deny it, they got a lot of food and ate all of it. Even Audiva now goes for the wet food with gratifying enthusiasm! We're now living through the food-change poops and that is never exactly fun, but this too shall pass. So to speak. 

[ninethecat]

I love when my focus snowballs

tl;dr: I completely changed my room because I was given yarn and containers.

.....

So I was given some more yarn from my grandma as well as some pretty nice secondhand containers today since I've been hyperfixating on crochet a lot lately and so one thing led to another and now my room has been reorganized.

I keep my yarn in this little blue cube container. I had beads and plastic canvas yarn (which are all scratchy and not great for a lot of crochet projects) stored in this as well.

I was excited about having new containers, but they had to be cleaned before being used. I did that.

Having freshly cleaned containers, and realizing that my yarn box was too full, I decided to put the plastic canvas yarn and beads in the containers. I then needed a place to store these containers.

I have a bookshelf that was full of mainly outdated game developing books because I was offered them and thought they could become relevant. Only the drawing books are relevant anymore and even then barely.

I've been meaning to do this, but I went through and filled a laundry basket full of these books. I sorted through to see if any of them would be updated enough to be worth donating. Very few were.

(Lets just say our trash can looks like a mid-2000's programmer gave up on life. It was a lot of books.)

This was around 11:30 PM.

So now, after combining the three shelves of books to one, I have empty space on the shelf. In that particular corner, I had a set of white drawers sitting on the floor; they got a shelf. I moved the box Jango likes to scratch at to get me up in the morning out of her reach. My printer moved up so it's not awkwardly close to the ground anymore so I can stand and use it.

The white drawers that are now on the shelf opened up a spot for the drawers I have as a dresser that was very inconveniently placed before which in my ADHD brain made it useless. I also took the liberty of removing the wheels on it that broke when I tried to put the white drawers on top. That's less annoying now.

I didn't know what was in the white drawers, so I checked. Cleaned one out and one was already empty, so now I have a D&D drawer, which is mainly dice bags and containers. I guess that works.

Yarn cube gets a new spot tucked neatly under the piano. Paint box gets a new home on the shelf. Chair gets tucked in. Bed is cleared off. At this point it's well past midnight and I have had to deal with small children all day (which I am not used to). Final push.

Clearing off the floor, actually putting my dirty laundry in the basket like an adult (technically my messiness gave me an advantage with the books so yeah) and put random things where they go.

The only reason I stopped is because it passed 1 AM and I just turned off my light so I would stop looking for things to organize. And here I am, lying in bed, unable tp fall asleep despite my melatonin supplement's best efforts, because my ADHD brain is still in hyperfocus mode. And it's now 1:30 AM. Yay.

[hymn2000]

Where The Darkness Ends - MCU AU fanfic - C1

Story summary: The concept of having a baby has been more of an idea for a long time now. Ideal candidates for a three-person baby, Loki and Tony have finally, after many Peter-based setbacks and challenges, got to the point of being tested. Now, they just have to wait for the results before they can move on to the next stage.

[[Disclaimer: this is a work of fiction and so I have twisted fact a little bit to suit some ideals. The reality of 2 dad/1 mum babies born through IVF are more at concept stage, although 2 mum/1 dad babies are a reality which have the legal go-ahead in a number of countries. It’s something which scientists believe will be possible in the future, and it’s been successful in mice. As I understand it, it’s near to being given the go-ahead for human trials. Also, there are cases of people being born with 2 dads, through rare cases of embryo fusion and superfecundation, which is better read off Wikipedia than me trying to summarise it. Just adding this little note in case anyone is interested in 3 person babies]]

Part of my Frostiron and Spiderson series.

Warnings/themes: family stuff, mental health stuff, hurt/comfort, hospital/medical stuff, fertility stuff, IVF

You can also find me on AO3

Chapter 1 - Picture Yourself

-

Peter frowned. He stomped into the kitchen.

“I can’t find daddy” he pouted at Tony, who was busy oiling the hinges on the kitchen cupboards. “All his shoes and stuff are here, so he can’t have gone out”

“He’s definitely still in the house” Tony said, shaking the WD-40. “Have you checked the laundry room?”

Peter blinked at him. “We’ve got a laundry room?”

Tony looked at him. “I’m sorry, how long have you lived here? Yes, we’ve got a laundry room”

“Oh” Peter said. “Where is it?”

Tony sighed. “Why don’t you go and explore downstairs for a while and see if you can find it?”

“Ok, ok” Peter said. “See you later”

“See you later, darling”

-

Peter was surprised to find that one of the doors he’d always assumed was a cupboard actually opened onto a little staircase. He trotted down the stairs, and opened the door on the left. 

He was met with quite a decent sized room. Immediately opposite the door was a washing machine and tumble dryer. There was an ironing station - something he’d never seen before - with a type of ironing board folding out from the wall, with a regular iron and a steam iron on a stand beside it. There were empty laundry baskets, a shelf of laundry detergent, and shelves of other cleaning chemicals and supplies, all neatly arranged. 

At the other end of the room, there was a little kitchenette with a sink, kettle, and microwave, a stereo, a television, and a large, soft sofa and footstool. This is where Loki was sat.

“Hey, daddy”

“Hello, sweetheart” Loki said, setting his book aside. “What brings you down here?”

“I couldn’t find you, and dad said we have a laundry room so I came to find you. And this. Which is like no laundry room I’ve ever seen” he said, looking at the Elvis clock and all the cute little vintage laundry-themed framed pictures on the walls. 

“Ah yes, well, I did try to make it homely. I spend a fair amount of time down here”

“Yeah... Am I interrupting?”

“Not at all” Loki said, standing up and putting the kettle on. “I’m just finishing some washing. Would you like a drink?”

“Um, ok” Peter said, going over to him.

He looked at the mugs Loki had got down from the little cupboard. One of them featured a washing line pattern with little blue clothes on, and the other had ‘laundry today or naked tomorrow’ written on it. It made Peter chuckle.

“Your dad bought that one” Loki said. “He thought it was funny too”

“It is a little” Peter said. 

He stood up on his tip-toes, peering at the other mugs on the shelf. One said: ‘laundry and dishes, hugs and kisses’, and the other had a cute picture of sheep on a washing line.

“I love that they’re all washing themed” Peter said. “How many mugs do you own?”

“Oh god, I don’t know. Maybe you could count them for me some time and let me know” Loki said.

He made them both a drink and they sat down on the sofa together. 

“Can I ask a really weird question?”

“Nothing has ever stopped you before” Loki said, putting an arm round the boy.

“You know when you went to get tested?”

“Mm” Loki said. “We get the results tomorrow”

“Yeah. But like, when you actually went and did it, wasn’t it like, really awkward? Like, didn’t you basically have to sit in a room and wank?”

“Peter! Your father would wash your mouth out with soap if he heard you using that sort of language” Loki said disapprovingly.

“Sorry, sorry. But like, isn’t that basically what you do? Like, have a w- um... Do that into a little pot?”

“You’ve been watching The Moaning Of Life again, haven’t you?”

“Maybe” Peter shrugged.

“It was a little awkward and tricky, I’ll give you that” Loki said. “It was... Well, there was a bit of pressure and it took longer than I expected. It was quite frustrating. But whatever, we got it done. One of the staff said they all call it the masturbatorium”

Peter snickered. 

“Yes, I thought you’d find that amusing. Tony certainly did” Loki shook his head. “It’s a necessary part of the process”

“Three-person babies... It’s kinda incredible, isn’t it?”

“Oh yes, definitely. We won’t be the first to have one, but it still feels like a bit of a statement. We’re eligible, and it means it’ll be biologically both of ours. As soon as we started talking about IVF, and we came across it, we knew it would have to be the three-person way. That’s part of the deal. Three-person or nothing. Our own baby”

“Mm...”

Loki looked at him. “Oh sweetheart. I’m sorry, I worded that very badly. You know that you’re just as much our baby as the IVF baby is going to be”

“I guess so”

Loki put his mug down, and moved Peter’s aside. He held the boys hands.

“Darling, listen to me. I know we’ve been through this before, but let me say it again” Loki said. “Just because the IVF baby is going to be biologically ours, that doesn’t mean it’s a replacement for you, or that you’re any less our son, or that we’ll love the baby more than we love you. It’s just another way of having a child. You’re always going to be our son, and we’ll always love you more than anything else in the universe. You’ll always be our baby”

Peter looked at him, and smiled. “I’m always gonna be your first baby! And anyway, you were my dads way, way, way before the adoption, and there’s no denying that either!”

Loki smiled and hugged him close, pulling him onto his lap. “That’s right, baby. You’re always going to be our little baby Peter. The one and only, Peter Benjamin Parker-Stark”

Peter laughed happily, snuggling into Loki’s chest, wriggling round so he was being cradled properly.

“So, we need to start thinking of baby names now that we’re getting close to the artificial insemination proportion of this whole thing” Peter said. “Are you gonna look at normal nice names, or posh names, or are you gonna be stupid like Jamie Oliver and call it Rainbow or Buddy Bear?”

Loki laughed slightly. “As much as I’m sure we’d get away with it, being the way we are, we’re definitely not doing something like that. No, your father and I have already decided on baby names”

“Oh! Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I suppose it never came up before now. We actually decided during and shortly after that whole incident with Kindsprengen’s gun”

“Oh! That’s a while ago now” Peter said. “What are the options?”

“Well, we thought Princess May for a girl, and Oliver Anthony for a boy”

Peter blinked at him. “You’d name a girl after Aunt May?”

Loki nodded. “If that was something you were comfortable with”

Peter nodded, tears pricking his eyes. “That’d be so cute”

Loki kissed him on the nose. “Don’t get all teary-eyed on me, darling”

“It’s so nice, though!” Peter said, wiping his eyes and giggling. “Princess May Stark. It’s a good name! May would be touched if she was here, I just know it... Oliver Anthony Stark is cute too. Oliver is a good name”

“Your father suggested that. He said he liked Oliver for a boy. He wanted to name a boy after me, but I didn’t think Loki made an especially good middle name. So we decided on Anthony as the middle name”

“That’s the names sorted then... It’s starting to feel so real. I can’t believe I’m gonna be a big brother!”

“You’re going to be a wonderful brother, I just know it” Loki said, retrieving their mugs and giving Peter his.

“You know what we’re gonna have to do next?” Peter said, sipping his tea.

“What?”

“The nursery” Peter said. “I know you’ve got a whole bunch of ideas”

“Oh yes” Loki said. “We’re going to do it neutral, I think. Tony and I were talking about it the other day. I wanted to do it pastel pink, and he wanted baby blue, but then we decided, if we don’t know the sex of the baby, it’s best to do it neutral. Most newborn baby stuff is neutral anyway - lots of white and yellow in the clothes and bedding especially”

“Yellow isn’t a great colour”

“Well, it’s not my favourite” Loki said. “But I wasn’t really planning on doing it heavily yellow, and it’s not like it’s bright yellow”

“Were you just thinking of doing everything white then?”

“Perhaps” Loki said. “White furniture, definitely. But we were thinking grey walls. Sort of a light grey, and we wanted some quite traditional artwork. We’ve been expanding the moodboard a little bit”

“Aww, that’s so cute. Can I have a look at it?”

“We’ll see”

Peter pouted. “That means no”

“Don’t you go pouting at me, young man” Loki said. “Now don’t look so put-out: you’re going to be fully involved with the actual decorating. You’ll be wonderful for painting the ceiling, considering your little spider-boy abilities”

“Why would the ceiling need painting?”

“Well, it depends which room we use. But it might be nice to paint some little pictures on the ceiling. Or put up some decals. Clouds or something like that. Something calm”

“Oh, that might be cute. And then we could paint like, a ring of yellow around the light fitting? So it could be like the sun in the middle of the room?”

“That’s a good idea. I hadn’t thought of that. I’d half-considered a yellow light shade, but I prefer your idea”

Peter smiled happily, settling down and slowly drinking the rest of his tea. Loki finished his own drink, moved their mugs aside, and wound his arms round Peter, giving him a squeeze.

“My little boy~. You’re so lovely, you know”

“I know”

-

Loki lay on the sofa with Peter on his chest for a long time. They talked quietly together, listening to the tick of the clock during the comfortable silences. 

There was a little knock on the laundry room door, and Tony cracked the door open.

“Ah, you’ve got him” he said, seeing Peter curled up with Loki. “I’ve finished those bloody squeaking cupboards. Mind if I join you?”

“Please do” Loki said, sitting up so there was room for Tony to sit down.

Tony sat down beside them. He put an arm round Loki’s shoulders and pinched Peter’s cheek.

“You found the laundry room, then”

Peter smiled slightly, but didn’t say anything. Tony stroked his cheek gently with the back of his forefinger, and looked at Loki.

“I didn’t expect you to still be down here”

“Well, I still need to change the washing over”

“Do you want me to take the sprog for a moment so you can?”

“That might be an idea” Loki said, standing up and setting Peter down on Tony’s lap.

Tony cuddled Peter close while Loki went over to the washing machine.

“What have you been up to down here?”

“We’ve just been talking” Peter said. 

“Oh. What about?”

“Well, about the baby” Peter said. “You get those results tomorrow, so it won’t be long before... Ten months, eleven months, right? And then I’ll be a big brother”

Tony smiled. “That’s right, kiddo”

“Daddy said I’ll be a good brother”

“Of course you will be” Loki said, sitting back down with them. “You’re kind and loving and good-hearted. You’ll take brilliant care of your little brother or sister - not that you’ll need to. But I know you’ll be wonderful”

“I can just imagine you playing games with your baby brother - or sister - and helping out and just being friends with them. You’re gonna be so good. Are you excited?”

Peter nodded. “Yeah, definitely! I’ve kinda got used to tiny babies after all that time I’ve spent at the hospital with daddy and Jo Jo. It’s gonna be so cute having a baby sibling, and we’ve kinda been waiting a long time. Mainly because of me”

“Hey, it’s not your fault. It’s been a rough few years” Tony said. “But whatever, it’s happening now”

“You know they say everything happens for a reason” Loki said. “Maybe this baby wasn’t ready yet”

“But it’s ready now” Tony said. “Well, soon. Just gotta get the results of this flippin’ test, and then we can go for the next bit, and hey, give it nine months, and then there’s gonna be four Stark’s in this household”

“Now now, Tony, my love” Loki said. “You know they have to do the fertility test: it’s just a formality, part of the process”

“Yeah, yeah, I know” Tony sat back, pulling Peter closer and patting his thigh gently.

“Is Pepper still gonna come and stay?” Peter asked.

“Not during the pregnancy. At least, not until the last month or so” Tony said. “We talked about it, and she said she’d much rather just live her life. We’ll do all the appointments together and she’ll come round a lot, obviously. But she doesn’t want to live here for nine months. Can’t say I blame her”

“Yeah, this is a bit of a madhouse” Peter said.

“She’s still coming to stay after the birth” Loki said. “Mainly at our insistence. Still...”

“Wait, I’m confused about something” Peter said. “With, you know, all three of you being biologically this babies parents, that makes Pepper mum, right? Is that gonna make things... complicated?”

“We’ve had literally years to discuss this all. Pepper does want to be involved with the baby, but casually:- she doesn’t really wanna be mother” Tony said. “At least, she doesn’t wanna be called mum, and she doesn’t want to like, have joint custody or custody battles or anything like that. She’s doing this for us. She’s essentially just a surrogate, chick. Well, obviously not just a surrogate: she’s our best friend too. But you know what I mean”

“I know. I think I understand” Peter nodded. “I like Pepper. She’s called me stickie kiddie last time she saw me, though”

Loki laughed slightly. “Well, you were literally on the wall”

“Yeah, that’s kinda fair” Tony said. He sighed. “As much as I love the smell of washing powder and lavender ironing water, I think me and bambino here would be a bit more comfortable upstairs”

“Well, don’t force yourself to stay on my behalf” Loki said.

“Aww, I wanna stay with daddy though!” Peter protested. “This sofas not uncomfortable”

“I can come upstairs if you want me to, sweetie” Loki said. “Dry clothes can stay in the machine when they’re done for longer than wet ones. It’s nothing pressing: I can do the ironing later”

-

Tony folded out the futon, and the family cuddled down together in a nest of pillows and blankets.

“We’re a happy little trio, aren’t we?” Loki said.

“Soon to be four!” Peter said. “So, what do you want? Boy or girl?”

“I don’t mind” Tony and Loki said in unison. 

“Just so long as it’s healthy?” Peter said.

They nodded. “Exactly”

Peter sighed, pulling his rocket and seal closer. He was glad he’d grabbed them.

“You know, when we’ve got an actual baby, are you gonna mind me being a big baby?”

“I wouldn’t have you any other way” Tony said. “You don’t have to change at all. I love you just as you are. We both do”

“You know” Peter said. “I keep finding myself drawn to the baby sections in shops now. Just like, you know, seeing what they have, seeing what we might need or want. All the stuff we’re going to be buying over the next few months”

“You really are excited about all of this, aren’t you?” Tony smiled fondly.

“Well, it’s my baby too, kind of” Peter said. “Your son or daughter, and my brother or sister. We’re just... expanding our family, right?”

“That’s right, darling” Loki said. 

“Does having four in the house mean I’m gonna have to share my cupboard in the kitchen?”

Tony laughed, turning onto his side. “Don’t be silly, chick. We’ll just shift everything around and the baby can have its own cupboard. You’re not gonna have to give up anything just because there’s gonna be another kid in the house. We’ve been through this”

“Yeah, I know, I know. I’m still just smoothing it all out in my head”

“You’re a funny little thing, chick” Loki said. “It’ll all work out soon, and we’ll know what we’re doing”

“Exactly. Don’t go getting all silly and worried about it. It’s gonna change things, of course, but it’s not gonna make a difference to your stuff or your room or anything. It’s all gonna be good changes. Aside from sleepless nights”

“You have sleepless nights anyway” Loki said. “All those hours tinkering in the lab”

“Ok, ok, point taken. Bit different though. Anyway, no use worrying about any of it. We’ll sort stuff out over the next few months, and then have a mad panic in the few weeks leading up to the birth” Tony said.

“So, tomorrow, after you get those results, what happens then?”

“Well. We talk. And we decide on a date for the next bit, which is the, uh, well, the-”

“The artificial insemination?” Peter said.

“Yeah, that” Tony said, raising an eyebrow at the boy. “So we talk, decide on a date for that, and then we attend all the checks together, the three of us - that’s me, daddy, and Pepper, not us and you - and we wait for conception. After that, it’s just the usual stuff you do with any other pregnancy. Just with a bit more of a crowded bedside”

Peter nodded, imagining positive tests and ultrasound scans and shopping for baby clothes. 

“Are you gonna find out the sex when it gets to that time, or are you gonna wait?”

“I don’t know. I guess that’s something we’ll know nearer the time. It’s a long while off, honey” Tony said.

“Daddy told me about the names you picked” Peter said. “They’re both cute. What if it’s twins? If they’re a boy and a girl, then you get Princess and Oliver. But what if it’s two boys or two girls? Then what? Have you got other names?”

“That’s not really something we’ve thought about” Loki said. “It’s common to have multiple pregnancies with IVF, but it’s not a given, and the clinic said it’s not as common with three-person babies. We don’t need to think about other names unless we end up in that boat”

“I’ll think for you” Peter said. “I’m sure I can come up with some decent names”

“Alright, chick, if you wanna do that, you can do that” Tony said, stroking his hair gently. “You remember what we said, right? About you?”

“Which bit? You mean about me being able to have as much or as little involvement as I want with the baby?”

“Yeah, that bit” Tony said. “This is your family. We’re not gonna shut you out. You deserve to know exactly what’s happening, when it’s happening”

Peter looked at him. “Does this mean I can help choose clothes and stuff?”

“Sure, if you’d like to. We can all go shopping together some time”

“After the conception?”

“Yeah, some time when everything’s kinda set in stone and we know what’s going on and we’ve got a timescale” Tony said. 

“There’s some very nice children’s shops I’ve been looking in the windows of in town” Loki said, resting a hand on Peter’s. “You can help us choose. Maybe you can decide on how we decorate the nursery. There’s so many different themes to choose from, and that’s generally what people do, I believe. We’ve already talked about painting”

“It’s gonna be a busy few months. But it’ll be good” Tony rested his head against Peter’s. “I’m really, really looking forward to getting started”

Loki turned onto his side and shifted closer, putting an arm round Peter and holding onto Tony’s elbow. Tony stopped stroking Peter’s hair and instead rested his hand on Loki’s arm. 

“My little family” he said. “Can you believe that this time next year, we’re gonna be sitting here with another child under our arms?”

“Two babies” Loki said. “We’ll have two babies. This one” he looked at Peter. “And the IVF baby. Two beautiful children”

“We’ve waited so long. You’ve waited even longer” Tony said. “But it’s happening, Lolly. My love. We’re gonna have a baby! And it’s gonna be great. I just keep thinking, ultrasound scans on the fridge and all the other stuff. I’ve actually got butterflies just thinking about it”

“Me too” Loki said. “I can’t believe how close we are”

Peter watched his parents. He saw how colourful they were. He saw the happy tears in their eyes and the happy, dreamy way they were looking at each other. They’d been waiting for so long. He knew that even if they didn’t blame him, it was definitely due to things that had happened with, to, and because of him that had slowed it down this much. But suddenly that didn’t really matter any more. They’d gone in for the obligatory fertility test, and tomorrow they would glimpse the results, and then plan for the next step. There’d be more appointments, which they’d recount to him, and then, slowly, the house would fill up with baby supplies, a nursery would be decorated, Pepper would get bigger and bigger, and then one day - well, Princess or Oliver would arrive. 

“Everything feels all warm and fuzzy” Peter said. “Dads..? Um, when we’re a family of four, I can still have cuddles with you two as just us, can’t I?”

“Oh sweetheart! Of course you can!” Loki said, kissing him firmly on the cheek. “You can still have as many cuddles as you like, same as always”

“We’re not pushing you aside, no matter what” Tony said. “We’ve got enough time and love for two children. You’ll still get every ounce of care then that you get now. And that’s a promise”

“I’ll second that” Loki said. “Besides, do you really think either of us would want to go without our Peter-cuddles? Absolutely not”

Loki sat up and pulled Peter onto his lap, cuddling him close and kissing his cheek. Tony wrapped his arms round both of them and kissed Peter’s cheek too, over and over. Peter giggled and squirmed.

“Dad!” he squeaked, trying to act like he minded. “Stop!”

“Stop being so squeezy and maybe I will” Tony smiled. “I love you so much, kiddo”

“I love you too” Peter said. “But I’d love you even more if you stopped scratching me with your stubble”

Tony laughed. “You’re definitely your father’s son, you know”

“Good, I’m glad to hear it” Peter said, hugging Loki’s arm. He sighed happily. 

“We should probably think about eating and sleeping soon” Tony said. “It’s getting on a bit, and we’ve all gotta be up in the morning”

“Aww, do I really have to go to school?” Peter whined. “Can’t I come to the clinic with you?”

“No, chick, you know you can’t” Tony said. “No, you can go to school like a good boy and then we’ll fill you in when you get back”

“Are you gonna pick me up?”

“I can’t see that being a problem” Tony said.

“I’ll come along too” Loki said. “Ok?”

Peter sighed. “Alright, alright. But you’re sure I can’t just pull a sickie?”

Tony laughed and pinched his nose. “Don’t even think about it, kiddo. I’ll take you to school, you’ll go about your daily business, and then we’ll pick you up from school, come back here, and probably have some kinda mini celebration”

“Ooh, can we order a takeaway?”

Tony and Loki smiled at him, and each other, and gave him a squeeze.

“Definitely”

*

[luckystarchild]

Moving is hard.

You don’t realize how much ~stuff~ you have until you have to pack it all up and blister your hands transporting it from place to place. The movers got the majority of my crap, but holy shit—it’s like stuff is multiplying behind my back every time I take a load over to my new apartment. 

So here’s my To Do List for the next three evenings (because I’ve gotta be out of my old place by Friday and I’ll be out of town on Thursday and I work during the day, soooo I have what amounts to maybe 12 hours left of packing and cleaning time and that’s horrible to look at in such stark terms, holy fuuuuuuu—). 

Clean out the utility closet. Throw away hangers, move the coats and the pillow inside it to my new place. 

Clean out the closet under the stairs. There’s a lot of linens and towels to deal with, plus some huge pillows from our old papasan chair, and a box of plates + a little end table. [I have determined what needs to be tossed and what needs to be kept, so this is just a matter of throwing crap away and transporting the rest.]

Clean out the laundry room. I’ve done most of it, but I still need to move out some old supplies (no idea where they came from honestly and I don’t even know if they’re mine at this point so I might just need to chuck ‘em).

I sorted out a bunch of my clothes I no longer wear; need to bag them up to donate, and then I need to wash the clothes I’m keeping because they smell like cardboard and bear a coat of moving dust, which isn’t ideal.

Throw out all the crappy hangers in my closets and remove all the extra random garbage that’s littering the floors in said closets. WHERE DID THIS RANDOM GARBAGE COME FROM??

Oh, and there’s one crystal unicorn in that closet that I need to carefully transport. [THE UNICORN LINGERS]

My bathroom has, like, five things in it, but they’ve gotta be moved, too.

Gotta move the last of my kitchen items. There’s maybe a box worth’s left of random junk that didn’t fit anywhere else on previous trips.

Gotta take the nails out of the walls and do a sweep for command strips left over from hanging art.

Related: Get the last bits of hanging art off the walls; there’s not much left but it still needs a bullet point. [I got all the art down except for 5 things I can’t reach w/out a stepladder. There’s so much art, that’ll be a trip all its own to transport.]

CLEAN OUT THE DING-DANG FRIDGE, UGH. Also the pantry and that one final shelf of my chocolate and other desserts. [Did half of the pantry last night. The daunting task of cleaning the fridge looms large.]

There are some final pieces of furniture I can’t transport in my car; will need to enlist Tom and his truck for assistance. It’s stuff like a bar stool/chair, a wire shelf-thing from the laundry room, a small shelf for the bathroom, and a metal flower chandelier (it’s awesome and weird and I refuse to get rid of it).

Throw away all the garbage I’ve uncovered/accumulated during the move. [I bagged all the garbage; it is ready to be hauled to the dumpster]

AND THEN I HAVE TO CLEAN THE PLACE, TOP TO BOTTOM, UNTIL IT SHINES. [I went ahead and cleaned the kitchen sink because it was filthier than I remembered.]

.

Stuff in italics is what I want to take care of tonight. Can I get to the rest tonight? Not likely. But we’ll see, and whatever I don’t get to tonight, I’ll handle tomorrow night. I sort of HAVE TO get all this done tonight and tomorrow so I can clean on Thursday in time for the move-out inspection on Friday.

I know no one is riveted by the progress of my move, but putting this list here is helpful for me, so thanks for listening. ♥xoxo

[starlinfae]

Ok so. I have some grievances in doing household things like... laundry. I’ve had hm, lets call them Helpers. A professional person that comes to home visits with mental health patients to help with household chores and stuff (or rather acts as motivator they don’t actually do anything *for* you, but they will chat with you). So we’ve been tackling my laundry issues for a little over a year now. And I. Have. Only. One. (1). Bag left of clothes and other textiles (curtains, blankets, bed sheets, table cloths) in my apartment to do and I’m so happy! I have a few in the storage unit but those I will handle on my own.

But I’ve done so much laundry that I couldn’t have been able to do by myself. Because the work load (while it wouldn’t take *that* long if I had no disabilities and issues) has always seemed so gravely impossible to tackle on my own that I was exhausted by just thinking about starting that I never could.

And it’s almost over.

Our building is under six month renovation at this time, so I’ll be moving from my apartment temporarily when they will come to renovate mine, most of the laundry at the moment is sitting on my couch, clean af and I’ll be bagging them. Sorting them. Summer clothes, all-year-round clothes, winter clothes, boys clothes, female clothes, jackets, bed sheets and blankets, curtains. And picking my favorite ones and deciding what I won’t use and which ones were miss-purchases that I could bare to donate them forward. And that sounds like a lot of fun in and by itself :D Or heck, I could bag them by alter tbh and when I unpack them, give each their own closet shelf (that could possibly end the “I don’t know what to wear, where is that specific clothing I remember but can’t find” deal that can have us putting clothes on and then deciding no, not these ones). AAAAAA !!!

[imnoexpertblog]

Get Your Shit Together. Please.

6/26/18

I would like to lead this blog with a joke my coworker texted me coincidentally while I was writing this blog. It will all make sense in a moment.

What did the clean whale say to the messy whale? … Time to get orcanised. LOL.

Now that I got that out of my system (pause for more laughter), I have been requested to talk about organization and since I am doing nothing but organizing and packing lately, I think this is a great time to discuss it! I am a busy woman as you may have gathered, and I also take care of my Big Bear and my Little Bear. I have to practice effective time-management and organization or everything kind of just… Falls apart. So here are some things I recommend and do myself.

The first thing I think of when I reflect on what keeps me organized is the fact that I make lists. I make lists for EVERYTHING. What I have to do for the day/week, upcoming bills, grocery lists, lists of things I need to discuss with Baby when I see him, what we will be eating that week, etc. This cuts down on spending money on going out to eat because when we have a weekly list of our meals, we don’t forget to thaw things and we don’t have the opportunity to be indecisive. We also use the food we have before it goes bad by doing things this way. I also feel that physically writing things down helps me retain them better. And how satisfying is it to legitimately cross something off?

Much like my lists, I keep a calendar that I write events on so nothing is skipped/forgotten. It also helps up from double-booking ourselves. I have a lot going on, all the time. I usually model once a week at the minimum, pick up/drop off Nugget at daycare every now and then, have hair appointments, maybe breakfast with a coworker after our shift, Nugget’s soccer or swimming lessons, oil changes, orthodontist appointments, I may have to work a random weekend and have a few weekdays off instead, a family dinner, birthdays, holidays, etc. We are busy people and we’ve been even busier on top of all this with buying a house. I have had to attend open houses, meet with my realtor and mortgage lender, go to the bank, attend the inspection, etc. If I didn’t write these things down and mark them on a calendar, I would miss things left and right. I pride myself on being punctual and reliable. I also mark my paydays, which days bills are due, etc. for good financial organization. I’ve made a budget for Baby and I so we can see exactly how our debt to income ratio stands every month. Knowing how much you will be spending on bills and mortgage alone every month really puts things into perspective and helps you save the leftover money.

It may seem unnecessary, but I recommend investing in a filing cabinet. As an adult, you will acquire some rather important paperwork you need to hang onto. Tax info, vehicle titles, medical info, etc. It’s best to keep these things safely put away and readily accessible if needed. Nothing it worse than rifling through a stack of paper and forms in a hurry, or even worse; losing these important items. Things like your birth certificate, passport, social security card can go in there as well.

As for general organization in your home, I suggest as you buy new things you should make an effort to get rid of the old. I have made it a habit to donate an old piece of clothing for almost every new one I buy. Sometimes it’s hard to be honest with yourself when it comes to wearing everything you own. If I haven’t worn something the entire season it’s meant for, it’s time to give it up. I don’t only do this with clothes, but with décor, as well. When I notice I have multiples of something, I take it upon myself to pick my favorite one/ few to keep and I purge the rest. I don’t need 8 vases, so I choose the 2 I like the most and donate the others.

Sounds simpler than it is sometimes. It can be hard to get motivated to de-clutter your space. Having an event that requires a cleaning or organizing session can help. This can be a party of some kind, a move (like me right now), if you’re expecting someone to be staying with you for a period of time, or having a sale of some sort. Use one of these to get started, if possible. Even just rearranging a room can spark some de-cluttering.

Another tip I try to remind people of is that everything has a place. I know people who instead of cleaning up a mess, they just organize the mess where it is. Sharing a room with my sister was torture back in the day. I would ask her to clean off her dresser. Instead of putting the scissors back in the junk-drawer and putting the hair ties back in the bathroom drawer, she would simply just straighten all these random items on the dresser. I would have to say, “Go put the DVDs in their cases and then put them on the shelf instead of just stacking them all neatly on your bedside table.”  It drove me crazy because all of these things really do have a place! Find it, and put it there. If you really have a hard time finding a place for something, assess if this thing or item really serves any purpose. If not, maybe it’s time to part ways with it.

Having designated days for certain chores has helped me remain on top of housekeeping. For example: Mondays are for laundry, so every Monday I round-up the towels, wash cloths, sheets, and clothes around the house and get down to business. Doing this every week keeps laundry to a minimum and there’s never any reason to scramble at the last-minute for a specific piece of clothing. Another example: Tuesdays for bathroom cleaning. Bathrooms can get dirty quickly so dedicating a day each week to tidying them up makes for easy and fast clean-up. Nothing gets too messy if you are consistently making sure it’s kept up!

I have learned how much I value something is completely based on the fact of whether I would pack it up and move it to a new house or not. Moving 3 times in 4 months last year really gave me a new perspective on things. What matters, what doesn’t, what I need, what I don’t. I get rid of so much every time I move! I rarely regret donating or throwing these things away because I’ve become very realistic in what I will use in the future. If I don’t care enough to even put it in a box and then take it out of the box somewhere else, that definitely shows me I don’t want it very much.

These are the general rules I follow to stay organized! Keeping lists of everything, updating calendars, filing important paperwork, out with the old and in with the new, keeping your material things simple and minimal, less really is more, putting everything in its place, and having a chore schedule for each week. There are many other things you can practice in order to stay on top of things; in big ways and small. You can do things such as labeling, keeping your room clean to promote relaxation, keeping your purse clean for on-the-go organization, clearing your email on a regular basis, downloading organization-based apps, or even setting reminders on your phone. What are your tricks to stay organized? Do you think any of this is helpful? I’m no expert but, personally, I find these tips successful in making my life run a bit more smoothly. Comments are always welcome and I always reply! Talk to you soon!

[thecoroutfitters]

Written by R. Ann Parris on The Prepper Journal.

There are probably 1,001 uses for wooden shipping pallets besides sticking them in a burn barrel. We can regularly source them for free or for very low cost by talking to distribution centers and contractor supply stores about their breakage piles, eyeballing the dumpster areas of shopping centers and warehouses, or checking sites like Craigslist and Freecycle.

Spin around online and you can find all sorts of projects and builds for people of all skill levels. They can make our lives easier and seriously cut our costs in many cases. A free item with that much potential makes them an automatic must-have in my book. I’m mostly going to talk about simple builds this time around, but pallets also get turned into pretty impressive structures, gardens, and furniture.

Pallets come in several standard sizes and a handful of configurations. While the type can matter for some of our projects due to the number, cut, and spacing of boards, for the most part applications are pretty universal. For details about shipping pallet types and sizes, check out this site http://www.airseacontainers.com/blog/most-common-shipping-pallet-measurements/.

Disassembled = Board Lumber

Remember, once disassembled, our pallets are just lumber. That opens up the whole world of projects. Rifle racks for the range or safes, food storage shelves, bird houses and playhouses; anything we’d repair or build can be done with pallets.

Those boards also have use in hiding some of the “ugly” around our homes. We can use them to sheath everything from our water storage totes and barrels, to whatever containers we’re planting in.

We can also double up our pallet boards for a little more durability and strength if we want. I mention this because some stuff is heavy and would do better with a 2×4 than 1×4. (I tend to live in the “abundance of caution” and JIC world for the most part, although I’ll dispel that and make heads spin in the next section.)

Safe or Unsafe

How “safe” the various treatments used on pallets is for us depends on our intended use, even if we’re worried about chemicals. Most articles and videos will tell you that only HT-Heat treated pallets are safe, although others include debarked (DB) and the “safe” EPAL European designator. I’m not going to hand my kids lead pacifiers or mix up powdered milk or pony drenches in bleach bottles, but I also don’t get too wrapped around the axle on some fronts. This is one of them.

If you consume Big Ag meats (supermarket to Outback or Whataburger), farmed or bottom-feeder fish, “normal” supermarket eggs and dairy, soda or anything in the center aisles made with corn or soy, or if you drive 3 hours/week, burn trash, touch cash and then your face/food, smoke (anything), handle lead (ammo), sit by campfires, live in a city, microwave food in plastic, use rain catchment without serious decontamination filters, have dark irrigation hoses or foam mattresses, or buy commercial animal feed … don’t sweat those markers too much.

One, you’re more likely to die from a vehicular accident, and be hospitalized from supermarket leafy greens or infection contracted in the hospital than from one more of the ubiquitous chemicals around us. Two, those chemicals mostly only become available as our pallets (or anything) decays. That means tiny increments released over time (vice chugging a can of stain). Chemicals mostly head downward with moisture, with only some outward contact spreading outward – only fractions of them are available for possible uptake. Only fractions of that then ends up in the seeds and fruits we eat.

All that said, the warnings about chem-treated pallets originate from garden methods using them, then became universal “rules”. (Pallet garden potentials are so numerous, I’m not even going to talk about them here – they rate an entire article.)

Point is, don’t blanketly accept conventional wisdoms without thinking them through. They may not even apply (or are total bunk). Some stuff, for some/many people, is worth stressing. Some stuff isn’t.

Water Storage

Speaking of safe and unsafe, the conventional wisdom is that we don’t want to store plastic containers, particularly of water, on concrete due to the chemical interaction that allows contaminants to enter our foods. There’s some hot-not and storage-duration wiggle room, and while I tend to err on the side of caution in this case (and when it comes to previous milk containers), there’s some myth-truth proposals here http://www.preparednesspro.com/myths-and-facts-of-water-storage to spur analytical thinking.

For the most part, I don’t really see how laying cardboard, 2×4’s, or 1×4’s under plastic barrels and buckets destabilizes them unless somebody gets really cute (or stingy). Personally, I’m a big believer in keeping stuff up off the floor, period. Even beyond chemical interaction concerns, being able to stack stuff also comes in handy, both to maximize storage space and in some cases to make it easier to use.

One point to note about water in particular is that it’s heavy. Not only does that apply to any rack we use, it also applies to container sizes. The older I get and more injuries I accumulate and heal, the more I’m willing to downsize. That includes containers for dry goods and water.

It’s just easier to build structures for, pull down, move, clean, and refill a 3-6 gallon bucket than a 35-55 gallon barrel. About the only remaining exceptions in my various storage are wheeled trash cans.

*Those are not food safe, either, if it’s a concern – told you I’d make heads spin. (Most of my trash cans hold mylar-bagged foods and animal evac feed and supplies; some are wash/laundry water catchment).

As-Is Uses

There’s lots pallets can do for us even if we’re not yet DIY-ers, and lots that requires minimal building skills. For one, just getting stuff off the ground, as mentioned above. That can be hay, mulch, bagged amendments, toolboxes in our sheds or outdoors, food storage buckets and barrels, or creating elevated resting platforms and feeding stations in pens or pastures that tend to get muddy.

They can help keep our boots cleaner – and to some degree limit the risk of slipping in wet and icy weather – by creating walkways, and prevent ATVs, Gators, carts, and bikes from bogging down or tearing ruts on trails and in gardens. They can also decrease or eliminate risks and wetness from ditches and seasonal streams, making getting around faster and easier.

Steps & Rails

If we’re on a tight budget, we might find we can use a boost as well as a stepping stone. We might also decide that a step or hill is a little too much for us as we age, get pregnant, or face injury. Pallets can help us there, too, and it tends to be a ridiculously easy build.

Go easy on how high we go with these things – I’ve seen some crazy. They are wood and even treated, they are eventually going to rot and crack, and need replaced. Also, make sure you anchor these things together and to the ground.

If you want or need steps or a sidewalk past mud, a hand rail is usually a fantastic idea, even if it’s just posts somebody can snag. We can turn other pallets into those rails to increase safety and ease.  

Simple Builds

There are plenty of other simple builds out there that at most require splitting, hanging, or trimming an as-is pallet to size, adding some screws or in some cases a hinge, a few hooks, and some cord or chain. The ease makes pallets a valuable learning tool (and confidence boost) for preppers who are just dipping their toe into DIY. The in-expense also means if there’s a screw-up, no big. Scrap lumber is handy to have around.

Some of the simplest ways to use pallets is just to slap three or four of them together to make a work bench, desk, countertop, or table. Flip that on its side, link a few in series, and you’ve got a leaf mold or compost heap. With a sturdy wall or a couple of convenient trees and $3-10 in hardware, and you can make one or two pallets into a permanent or Murphy-bed style station that functions as a desk, a table, or a workbench, indoors or out.

With some additional screws and hooks or disassembled boards, we can use a wall or those handy trees to hang our tools in a shed or outside the garage. We can also hang them from the sides of our tables or benches.

For a really simple build, just fix a handful of shipping pallets together with deck screws (flip-flop which side is up as you stack to increase shelf depth). Add caster wheels and it’s a rolling storage shelf or workbench.

With some cinder blocks or some 4x4s, we can create shelving with very little building experience, using whole pallets, pallets that are cut in half to make shallower widths, or disassembled boards. (Remember: even a pint canning jar is heavy on its own and holds another pound worth of liquids or foods – use healthy boards and consider doubling them up.)

Another super-simple build using just deck screws is stacking a few pallets and adding one perpendicular to form an L shape. Set that on some cinder blocks and top with a mattress, seat cushions, or pads and you’ve got a bench seat or day bed. Some additional lumber or blocks creates storage spaces for totes, baskets, or drawers salvaged from a wrecked dresser or filing cabinet.

If you’re after some inexpensive yard, starter-home, or bug-out location furniture, the sky is the limit and the internet is just full of ideas. Personally, I’m not much for the rustic pallet look, but with a coat of paint or whitewash, our pallets can get prettier if and where it matters.

Fencing & Pens

Another fantastic use for pallets that requires little DIY experience is fencing for our dooryards, gardens, and animals, to protect trees, or just to increase our privacy a little. We can use them pretty much as-is and connect them to each other, standard fenceposts, or poles we make our or a neighbor’s overgrown saplings and trimmings. We can also pull a board or two from each to cut at an angle and drive into the ground for stability or to use as an overlapping connector between pallets.

If heights of 18-24” work instead of 3-4’, we can very quickly halve our pallets and double the area we enclose. We can also totally or partly disassemble them and churn out top-rail or a 2-3 rail plank fencing, or do some extra cutting for an HOA-acceptable picket fence.

If we have problems with raccoons reaching through our poultry and rabbit fencing, we can brace whole or half-height pallets against our existing runs to add depth. Likewise, they can create a buffer to allow some grazing but keep chickens and goats from eating something to the trunk or roots.

We can also take pallets apart and reassemble them in a solid wall if our birds/hares like to do dumb stuff like huddle in a corner where something can get its claws through – there’s little worse than a disassembled critter the predator couldn’t even get out to eat.

I said I wasn’t going to talk about pallet gardens, but when it comes to fencing, that’s actually one of the benefits they offer. Pallet fences allow us to grow vertically either on the protected inside or on the outside of critter pens where our critters can’t reach, or both.

Pallets for Preppers

Pallets can be an excellent step into the world of DIY for beginners, as well as help everybody save money. Gardens, livestock feeders, and sheds are big enough categories to really rate their own articles, but there’s so much more. If you’ve got a need, see if somebody has a how-to using pallets, but don’t forget that pallets are also just board lumber waiting to be sanded.

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from The Prepper Journal Don't forget to visit the store and pick up some gear at The COR Outfitters. How prepared are you for emergencies? #SurvivalFirestarter #SurvivalBugOutBackpack #PrepperSurvivalPack #SHTFGear #SHTFBag

[andromeda---galaxy]

the note

Philip hates when he gets the cleaning bug, but he tries to remind himself that he’ll like the outcome once it’s all over. They haven’t done anything serious with their apartment in a while, and he could tell Helen was doing some low-key judging when she and Gabe were here. The trial seems to be going their way, even though he knew it would, and they’re probably only gonna have to come up one more time before Dour gets what’s coming to him.

 So Philip wants the apartment to look good for when Helen and Gabe see it again. He thinks Bo and Sarah might be coming up too, to celebrate the end of the trial and the first time they’re all together since Philip and Lukas got engaged. He feels like so much shit is happening, and all his portfolio photos are laid out on the bed because he’s still trying to figure out what the hell he’s gonna choose and how he’s gonna present them. He’s got his first meeting with Mr. Woods next week so he can see his progress, and Philip doesn’t know why he’s so goddamn paranoid about this shit.

 He sees Lukas out of the corner of his eye, dropping half their laundry onto the ground in the living room because he insists on carrying it in his arms. Philip snorts, shaking his head. Lukas is only wearing his boxers and Philip fucking loves when he does laundry like that.

 “You okay?” Lukas asks, trying to retrieve a pair of pants and socks off the floor. Three shirts fall too.

 “Are you?” Philip asks, laughing.

 “Ugh,” Lukas groans.

 “Just use the basket, babe,” Philip says.

 “No!” Lukas says, trying to readjust the clothes in his arms without dropping more. “I got this. I got this.” He drops a pair of Philip’s jeans and Philip laughs, shaking his head.

He turns back to the bookshelf in their room. Almost everything here is from when he was growing up, since most of their new ones are set up in the living room. So many of these books are stolen. And he uses that word loosely—most of them are from the library and he just wound up keeping them. He meant to bring them back but then again he didn’t, because books weren’t a luxury they could afford. He’d check them out under the school’s card and he knew Mrs. Cook was aware he was keeping them, but she never said anything, so he kept doing it. He wonders if she was paying his fees.

 Mom liked that he read. She always encouraged it, would shove them into his bag when he went off for school, back when she tried to put lunch in there, too. He clears his throat and starts moving the books forward so he can clean behind him, but one falls off the shelf and drops to the floor at his feet. He sighs, leaning the others so they don’t fall too, and crouches down.

 It’s A Separate Peace. He’d never finished it—he can’t remember why now, but he can imagine it could be attributed to a couple different things that he doesn’t wanna think about. He remembers picking it because he’d heard about homoerotic overtones—he was in his last year of middle school and pretty damn sure he was what he was.

 As soon as he picks it up a note flutters out. He narrows his eyes and his heart lurches, because he knows she’d do this from time to time, he remembers finding them, and he wasn’t expecting this, wasn’t ready for it, not today or any fucking day for the foreseeable future, but his hand is moving on it’s on accord, picking it up without any thought for how his heart is gonna take this—

 Hey honeypie,

 I’m so glad you’re reading this book! I read it when I was young and I loved it. You’re so smart! I can’t wait to hear what you think of it! Have a good day today and I’ll see you at two in the park! Can’t wait for our date! Enjoy the cookies :)

 Love you to pieces forever and ever,

Mom

 He’s gripping the paper more tightly than he probably should be and he can hear her voice. Like she’s in the room. Like maybe if he turns around she’ll be there. But he remembers Helen telling him she was gone, remembers his hearing going out and his whole body going numb like he was dropped into ice water. He remembers her funeral, remembers watching the casket being lowered into the ground and feeling like part of him was going with her, feeling like something was ripping him up from the inside. He doesn’t let himself think about it because he’s always tried to push these kinds of feelings down, because he has to be strong, he has to keep going, because if he steps over the precipice and lets the stark realness of her death get into his head he won’t be able to move anymore.

 The first two weeks after it happened was darkness, pain, and he didn’t think he’d be able to make it out. He hated himself for acting like he did even though he knows it’s normal, normal to want to lock himself away because his mom is dead. The note is trembling in his hand and his mind and his heart and his brain are all pulling him in ten different directions. It feels like yesterday that she was here, yesterday that she hugged him, yesterday that she died, yesterday that he found out she was gone, gone, gone never another hug never another note—

 He doesn’t wanna cry he doesn’t wanna cry he doesn’t want—

 “Philip,” Lukas says, on the ground now too, hands on Philip’s back and his shoulder. Philip falls back so he’s sitting and he realizes how much he’s shaking, the hate for his own stupid emotions rushing up his throat and resulting in a desperate-sounding sob. He doesn’t know what to think or feel, is so stuck in his ways that his body feels like it’s seizing up under the war happening there.

 Lukas takes the note away from him, gently, and puts it aside. “Hey, hey,” Lukas whispers, and he pulls Philip in between his legs, gathering him up against his chest. Philip breaks, tucking his head underneath Lukas’s chin. He clings to him, his head swimming, all of it, all of it tumbling down on top of his head. He doesn’t know what it is, why one note did it, but he feels like it’s right after, moments after, like she just left, just moments ago. Like he’s a raw nerve again, an orphan, alone.

 “Baby,” Lukas says, holding him tight, rocking him back and forth and running his hand through Philip’s hair. “It’s okay, it’s okay. I’ve got you.”

 His one constant. Philip sucks in a gasping breath but he can’t see or talk, doesn’t think he’s ever cried this hard in his life. He feels like something is trying to yank his soul out of his body, dredge up all his worst memories and drown him in them.

 He feels like he’s drowning.

 “Lukas,” he sobs, and suddenly he feels both dogs by his side, nudging their wet noses into his ribs, both crying.

 “Relax,” Lukas says, soothing his hand up and down Philip’s back. “Relax, relax, it’s okay—just breathe, babe, I’ve got you, it’s okay—you’re here with me, you’re here.”

 Philip tries to breathe, turning his face to press into Lukas’s neck. “Oh fuck,” he says. “I’m sorry. I’m so—sorry.”

 “No, no, no,” Lukas says, kissing Philip’s head a couple times. “No sorry.”

 “I shouldn’t—I shouldn’t be fucking—freaking out,” Philip gasps, more hot tears rolling down his cheeks. He feels Izzy lay her head on Lukas’s knee and Samson whines a little louder.

 “Philip,” Lukas whispers. He pulls back a bit and holds Philip’s face in his hands, pressing their foreheads together. His touch is careful but firm, and it helps Philip center. “You are—allowed to get upset about your mom. Fuck, I mean—you’re allowed to get upset and emotional about whatever you want. But especially your mom. I know you hold back, wanna—wanna stay strong, but babe—it’s allowed. It’s allowed, especially with me.”

 Philip nods, drawing in slow, measured breaths.

 Lukas kisses his cheek softly, his fingers moving back and forth through Philip’s hair and against his scalp. “You wanna talk about it?” he asks.

 Philip sucks in a breath and really wants to hide, so he leans forward and buries his face in Lukas’s shoulder, wrapping his arms around him again. Samson nudges closer and Philip laughs a little bit, wetly, and reaches out to scratch around his ears. Izzy immediately scoots closer for the same sort of attention, which Philip gives her.

 “Chill out, you two,” Lukas says, rubbing Izzy’s head. “Attention hounds.”

 Philip laughs again, still trying to catch his breath. He’s slowly leveling out, coming back into the present and out of the stifling haze. Lukas is holding him close, surrounding him. “Jesus,” Philip says, scrubbing at his eyes.

 “It’s okay,” Lukas says. “I’m right here.”

 That settles in Philip’s heart, reminds him of times past and when he knew that Lukas was starting to become his. “It just all felt overwhelming for a second,” Philip says, hardly sounding like himself. “Finding that note that I was like…really not expecting to find. I missed it, I never—I never read it when she meant for me to and like—now she—now—” His voice gets caught in his throat and he squeezes his eyes shut.

 Lukas kisses his temple. “Shh, shh, it’s okay,” he whispers. “You don’t have to.”

 Philip wants to talk about her, but he doesn’t know how. She means so much, always has, and every day everything he does is for her. He thinks about what she would think. But fuck, it hurts. She should be here. She should goddamn be here. It’s a plain goddamn fact. Kane took a lot from them, marked them forever with a type of paranoia and fear that doesn’t go away. But he took Mom away. He took her away permanently. There was no way to fix it. Nothing Philip could do.

 “She’ll never see—us,” Philip says, his voice muffled against Lukas’s skin. “What we’re doing, our—our wedding, how—happy we are, all the—work I’m doing, with my portfolio and shit and she—she always wanted me to have—have—have a dog and now we have two—” He groans a little bit, can’t keep talking like this.

 Lukas holds him so tight, kissing his forehead over and over. “Uh, I don’t think—no, I know I never told you this.”

 Philip shifts a little bit in his arms, trying to swallow down the beginnings of hiccups. “What?” he asks, tears in his voice.

 “Uh—it was like, our third night here, everything was still so new and like, I had this dream. I was worried it would like—well, it was me and you and our moms, here. In the apartment.” Philip just listens, tracing his finger over Lukas’s shoulder blade. Lukas clears his throat. “It wasn’t anything like, crazy, how my dreams can be sometimes, we were just—eating dinner. Tacos. And they just kept saying like things like we’re gonna see you do good. We’re gonna be there, don’t worry. Things like that. And we were just talking about normal shit, about the Met, the zoo in Queens—”

 Philip narrows his eyes. “My mom, uh—in your dream—she mentioned the Queens zoo?” he asks, feeling a little cold all of a sudden.

 “Yeah,” Lukas says. “I know you like the zoo, so that’s like—my brain was probably adding that in.”

 “Oh my God, Lukas,” Philip says, sitting up to look at him. “I love the zoo because of that zoo. We’d go there whenever we could afford it, I loved their bear cubs.”

 “We were talking about the bears,” Lukas says, a soft little smile on his face.

 “In the dream?” Philip asks, hands braced on Lukas’s shoulders. Lukas nods. Philip feels something fill him up then, a strange sense of peace and optimism. It’s like a presence, warm and cold and familiar, and he doesn’t know if he’s feeling it because he wants to feel it or because it’s actually all around him, like her full-bodied hugs and the cadence of her laughter. It feels like she’s close. “Lukas, that’s—why didn’t you tell me this?”

 “I didn’t wanna upset you,” Lukas says, shaking his head. “You know…freak you out. But it was—it was nice. It felt real, it felt like—it felt good. They were getting along.”

 “We always think they would,” Philip says, smiling.

 Lukas brushes Philip’s hair back from his forehead, his eyes roaming over Philip’s face. “I know how much it hurts. I really, really know. But I also know that—souls just don’t—go away. Especially souls as beautiful as theirs. No way, babe. They’re watching us, they—they’re seeing everything we want them to see.”

 Philip lays his head back down on Lukas’s shoulder. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, you’re…you’re right.” He sighs, turning his face into the hollow of Lukas’s throat again. “Sorry, sorry about the—”

 “No sorry,” Lukas says. “Jesus, the amount of times I’ve cried in front of you…Philip, it’s fine.”

 Philip is so fucking happy he found a safe place, a place where he can be vulnerable and it’s allowed, it’s okay, a place where he can break and Lukas will be there to put his hands over the cracks, whispering soft reassurances into Philip’s ear.

 “Here, look at me,” Lukas says, squeezing Philip’s shoulder. Philip sits up, sniffling a little bit as they square up. Lukas puts his fingers on Philip’s temples and starts humming, massaging gently. “Cheer up sleepy jean…oh what can it mean…to a…daydream believer…and a homecoming queen…” He leans in, pressing his lips to both of Philip’s cheeks, then the tip of his nose, then his mouth. Like clockwork. Philip loves this, loves their little thing, and it always makes him feel better. Because it’s theirs.

 Lukas kisses him again. “Want me to help you in here?” he asks. “We can put the note in the box with the other stuff, yeah?”

 “Yeah,” Philip says, nodding. He’s got a box under his side of the bed with all of the important things from his mom, close to him so he’s close to her.

 Izzy and Samson make their decision at the same time, leaping over Philip and Lukas’s legs and into their laps. Philip laughs, the pain in his head getting a little less when both dogs start licking at his chin. Samson stumbles and collapses into Lukas’s chest.

 “God,” Philip laughs. “She would have loved these two nerds.”

 “And they would have loved her,” Lukas says through gritted teeth, rubbing Philip’s back and Izzy’s side at the same time. “Thank God they’re distracted with us or they’d totally be making the laundry their bed. Samson is obsessed with that red sweater of yours.”

 “Oh shit, I made you drop it all,” Philip says, but Lukas shakes his head.

 “Nah, I was already doing that all on my own,” Lukas says, kissing Philip’s cheek. “You know me, elegant, refined—laundry trail was exactly what I was going for.”

 Philip snorts, shaking his head.

 “Anyways,” Lukas says, “I cleaned the floor like, really intensely, so it should be fine.”

 Philip feels overwhelmed again for a second, but in a good way this time, in the face of their life and their domesticity and their dogs and their fucking marriage.

 He leans in, cupping Lukas’s face as Izzy and Samson continue to dance and throw their bodies around. “I love you,” Philip whispers, nuzzling Lukas’s face, wanting to be as close to him as possible.

 “I love you too,” Lukas says, worming an arm around Philip’s waist. “So much, angel face.”

 Philip really does hope his mom is watching. Both of their moms, together. He hopes they’re proud of how far they’ve come. Because Philip couldn’t be prouder of the love of his life. He couldn’t be prouder of how safe they make each other feel. And with Lukas here, he can keep the pain at bay. Can keep the happy memories, the good feelings at the forefront.

 Philip knows she’ll always be with him.

[opukblog]

How to care for your clothes Sustainably

You have your bamboo toothbrush in the bathroom, take your own reusable coffee cup to every Starbucks, and try to walk more. We get it, living a sustainable lifestyle can be tough, especially if you still want to do more. Well, why not take a look at what you’re wearing?

Even if you’re buying less, buying better and shopping vintage, how you look after your clothes can have a huge impact on the environment. So, here’s how to take care of your threads in a much more planet-friendly way.

Wash like a pro

We’re all guilty of chucking our outfit in a crumpled heap on “the chair” at the end of a long workday, but looking after your clothes starts right here. Let’s talk about the chore we all dread a little: laundry.

Be more efficient 

Does that jacket really need a wash or could you get another wear out of it? Think twice before chucking your clothes in the laundry basket. If it’s not visibly dirty and just needs a freshen up, hang it outside in the fresh air for a while or take it into the bathroom while you shower and let the steam work its magic. When it is time to put a wash on, make sure there’s enough to justify it. The machine should be at least three quarters full, but don’t overload. It’s a balance.

Go low

It’s important to always follow the instruction labels on your clothes, but try to wash clothes at lower temperatures whenever you can. Washing at 30 degrees helps to reduce your emissions, and it can protect your clothes by preventing shrinkage. The exceptions to this are anything that could harbour the most germs, like underwear, towels and bedding - these need a higher temperature when washing.

Dry better

How easy is it to just throw your clothes in the dryer and have them ready for you an hour later? But it’s not so easy on the environment - it uses a lot of energy for one cycle - and can do some real damage to your clothes. So ditch the dryer (unless you really have to) and opt for air drying instead. Line dry when the weather’s on your side - and when the space allows - as this’ll really freshen your clothes up, and the sun can even help with stains and marks.

Cut back on dry cleaning

Raise your hand if you would avoid buying something that was ‘dry clean only’. We’re not surprised if you agree. Not only is there extra effort involved to take these few pieces to the dry cleaner - and then remember to collect them - but it’s also really bad for the environment, thanks to a chemical called perchloroethylene. It’s also really bad for your skin. A lot of items that say dry cleaning on the label can be washed on gentle and cold cycles, unless it has details that may snag in a washing machine. If you wear a lot of suits, it may be worth investing in a handheld steamer to get those creases out yourself. If dry cleaning really is your only option, search out environmentally friendly cleaners who use non-toxic products. Don’t be afraid to ask them about their methods before you hand over your best suit.

Don’t wash your denim 

Yes, you read that right. Did you know it takes 1,800 gallons of water to grow enough cotton to produce a single pair of jeans? So it would be great if they didn’t take up any more water than they already have. Your denim probably goes through a few wears without being washed anyway, but it’s actually better for both the environment and your jeans if they steer clear of your machine for as long as possible. Denim experts suggest that jeans are worn at least 10 times between washes, and that marks are taken care individually until then. To make your jeans last longer, avoid the dryer. We’ve already talked about this, but a tumble dryer breaks down the lint inside the denim. Line dry in the shade to prevent fading and avoid shrinkage. Wash on cold or - if you fancy giving it a go - you could always freeze your jeans. Leaving your denim outside in subzero temperatures - or at least overnight - can help kill bacteria and keep them fresh. You might want to wait a little until you put them back on though.

Use eco friendly products

Are you guilty of picking up the first laundry detergent you see on the shelf? We’ve all done it. But, your standard detergents can actually contain substances that are based on fossil fuels, which we all know are bad for the environment. There are loads of eco-laundry products on the market now, like Smol, and Ecover and Method that use natural and plant-based ingredients, as well as recycled or recyclable materials. Much better for your own carbon footprint in the long run.

Learn simple fixes

We’re not suggesting you commandeer your Nan’s sewing machine, but learning a few simple fixes can help your clothes last much longer, so you don’t need to buy replacements. Learn how to reattach a button that’s fallen off your shirt or polo shirt, or to fix a frayed hem on a tee. These items are probably as good as new, but so many people toss them in the bin for reasons that could be sorted so easily. If you’re not willing to pick up a needle and thread, at least find a nearby tailor who can do these quick fixes for you. No one’s going to fix climate change by hanging their tees on the washing line or skipping the dryer, but it all adds up. Start with one change and before you know it, your entire clothes-care routine just got a little greener.

[myheartislookingforyoualways]

03.11.2021

Dear G,

I go through the same days now. I wake up from a dream about you. I lie in bed and think about you. I read my affirmations. I think about you. I get up and go pee. I think about you. I brush my teeth. I think about you. I journal about my sobriety progress. I think about you. I have a shower. I think about you. I put some music on. I think about you. I go to get my kids for school. I think about you. I eat some breakfast. I think about you. I get dressed for the day. I think about you. I go down the hallway to the elevator. I think about you. I get in the elevator. i think about you. I cross the parkade. I think about you. I get in my car. I think about you. I drive into my day and my life. I think about you.  Dreaming its you and me and there isn’t the terrible ending that we had. Or its something made up. Or if I’m really lucky my brain lets me experience some sort of memory of us. The other day I was dreaming about the time we went to that beach in Toronto and my car almost broke down. Except it wasn’t Toronto and we never left the beach and it was just us. Then I wake up and I realize you’re gone, you’re really gone, and in so many ways than just being 5000 or so kilometres away. I think of how I used to roll over and say to you good morning beautiful. Or I think of how you would try to wake me up and eventually you would succeed. Or I think of how I used to lay beside you and start rubbing your hips and kiss your neck and squeeze your little belly. So many things and times we had in the washroom together. I just always think about how I would lay my head in your lap when you went pee. Or how you would watch me when I went pee. Or how you would always ask me what I was doing and I would say going to the washroom and you would say aww my poopy bb. I remember watching you put your makeup on and kissing you from behind. Brushing our teeth together before we would go to bed. I’d always get your toothbrush for you and put toothpaste on it for you. Or how you would always tell me you cleaned the washroom and it was so nice and I would say thank you so much. You would scold me when I didn’t put the things away under the sink. How your stuff was so organized with the bathroom shelf dividers we bought from Ikea for you on one of our trips there. I think about all our showers that we had together. I think about washing your perfect brown body. I think about kissing you in the shower and peeing on you. I think about how you would wash my body too. I remember getting cold and trading the shower water stream with you. Playing music in the shower and singing and being silly together. Fucking in the shower. Fucking in the shower but going to the bed because it was better. How we always used to ask each other how our outfits were. That one time that I asked you if I was the most stylish boyfriend you’ve ever had. How we always had soo much laundry that we never folded. Sometimes we would just sleep with it. How you had so many sexy little panties and I would always want to smell them. How you would touch your pussy and I would whimper for it wanting to smell it too. The hallway where you would always shush me for being too loud when talking. For the longest time I would always have to guess at the key at our door. One day you got frustrated and told me to use some of your nail polish to know which key I had. I gave you the key to my place the very first week. I asked you to come stay and much as you wanted to. I really wanted you here all the time and I considered it your place too. Soo many times in the elevator kissing you grabbing you hugging you laughing with you. Going to or from places together. Living our lives together. Loving each other. The emergency press assistance button where we always used to put your Sapporo beer before going somewhere. How we would always snap coming back and you were a little drunk and dancing and we were both being so silly. I think of all the times we drove somewhere together and we would hold hands. I see you everywhere. I think of you no matter where I am. Everything in this city reminds me of you and us and our life together. Even when I’m not thinking of you the most random thing will just remind me of you, something we did together, the feelings I had at the time. Everything reminds me of you. I just spend my day going through these daydreams. I feel sad at the situation we’re in now because of me and my addictions that forced you to let go and leave. But you’re not gone at all. You’re still here in my heart and my mind.

I spend hours just going through our photos. In the process of doing that I’ve gone through and started editing my photos. Alot of really good photos that I’m now just starting to go through. I spend hours doing that when I come home. Was doing that just now. Even that reminds me of you. You always used to tell me that I was really good. I always liked helping you with your school work too . It does give me some sort of peace for awhile though, editing old photos, I go through them and remember each and every moment I took them. A lot of those pictures and alot of those moments are in relation to you, whether or not you’re in the picture, whether or not you were there with me. It doesn’t matter, it was always you. I’ve started two different instagram accounts to put all these pictures somewhere and since they’re in relation to you of course I’ve made both of these accounts about you and me and us. You’re gone now but doing these things every day gives me some sort of peace, some sort of reason to keep moving forward and not get stuck on the fact that I lost you and you’re gone. There is only you. There only ever was you. There will only ever be you. I just want you always. I will always love you. I will wait for you to come back. If its forever that’s ok with me. I will. I’m sorry that I pushed you too much with my VSCO and Spotify yesterday. I realize now that no matter what you were saying to me and talking to me about on your Tumblr and Twitter and VSCO and even Spotify I shouldn’t have pushed back on you so hard. I really just have to let you go now. Let you do you. I’m going to do me. I’ll have hope that one day we can be together again. But that day isn’t anytime soon just yet. No amount of pushing will change your mind now. You’re angry upset hurt and you probably don’t even want to see or hear from me right now. I can only say to you that i will continue to do all the things I’m doing but I will give you the space on those platforms that you need now. I really was destroyed when you took down and deleted all those posts and reblogs and VSCO collection things. There is nobody in my life, there is only you and there will only ever be you. It doesn’t matter if I’m with you or not. I just want you and nobody else. That will always be the case. 

The one thing that really brought a light to my day today was one thing though. After all that self hatred, self anger, desperation last night after reading your Tumblr post I was just so low. I went to bed and told myself I wouldn’t look at your socials until tomorrow. Today I had my first traditional healing session as a part of my outpatient program. I don’t know how much I got from it but it did help me stay focused and centred. After that I did check on your VSCO once because I wanted to see one thing. I wanted to see if you still had the miss you xx post that I sent to you in December. I wanted to see if you deleted that. I didn’t want to find out but I forced myself to. It was still there. You didn’t delete it. The picture that I sent you that you posted on Christmas Day with the caption xx. The picture that I later posted myself later after seeing you that last time in my car in front of E’s place. Where i begged you to stay and gave you that promise ring. My caption was until I see you again xx. That one post that tied us together meant so much seeing that and its keeping me going. I feel that so much. I know that we are always talking to each other somehow because I just know us. I know that for some reason you didn’t delete that post. It means everything to me and that post is how I really feel. It’s how I felt when I took the picture and I sent it to you. Its how I felt when I posted it the day before you got on a plane and left. Its how i feel now and will always feel. Until the day that I see you again. 

I go through your VSCO gallery and I feel every single picture that you’ve posted. I know each and every picture intimately. I’ve either seen them, been somewhere off the camera, or you’ve sent them to me before posting them. Sometimes it the fact that the picture was taken in the place we used to call home. You look so perfect taking selfies in our mirror. I just want to jump into the pictures. Other times there pictures of a moment that you shared with me like on the plane to back home or on the beach before or after surfing. Or maybe it was the trips you took with your parents. Or a snapshot of your life where you are back now again. Some pictures are of our moments together, our dates, our times together, our happiest and brightest moments together. A few of the pictures are even pictures that I took and sent to you.  Alot of them are the flowers that I bought you. It doesn’t matter that nobody else really knows all the life behind each photo. I do. Your gallery represents a life that i used to be apart of and I life that I so desperately want back to. If I ever make it back to you and us I’ll splash you all across my social media with wild abandon. I’ll be the happiest man in the universe. For now I’ll just watch you from afar and I’ll always wait until that day and until I see you again. 

The last message you sent me on VSCO was I love u more. VSCO doesn’t keep time stamps on the messages. It doesn’t matter. I’m never going to delete that message. One day I hope you message me that again. Until then I’ll wait.

I love you

I will wait as long as it takes

If that is forever that is fine with me

I want you and only you

Always

Forever 

And

A

Day

[prettyfunkyunorganized]

Daughter Series - Reaper pt. 2

Aaaaaayyyyyy! Have some Reaper and Sunshine. And a bit of blue balls Doomfist. About 3,700 words. 

More Daughter Series: Hanzo, Roadhog, McCree, Reaper, Soldier 76, Genji 

Reaper installments: pt 1, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5

masterlist

Something was definitely going on outside, but Reaper couldn’t be bothered. It was Friday evening, he was at home, mostly undressed, and it had been a long week of Talon board meetings. He was not leaving his condo. He just wasn’t. The base could be literally burning down, and he still wouldn’t leave until the flames were at his door. Fuck, he wouldn’t move until the fire reached his god-damned couch! It had just been that sort of day. His phone was flashing and vibrating as if he were a preteen girl who had just been dumped, but nope. He wasn’t going to mess with it. Nope. The damned thing would ring if Sunshine called, but she knew he needed his time alone. She was good about that, because she was the same way.

“Screw it,” he mumbled, taking off his mask and rubbing the sides of his head, “I’m getting in the shower.” For the last week, his body had been acting extra, well, dead. His hair was white and thin, his face was more wrinkled than it should be, and his skin was a disturbing color. The scalding water didn’t feel even remotely warm as it ran over him for the next forty-five minutes. He felt hollow. He missed proper showers. He missed proper feelings.

“I’ll put on some music and clean my girls, that’ll help,” he sighed, setting his shotguns on the kitchen table one at a time, holding the towel around his waist. “Nothing like polishing weaponry in a black, plush towel to make you feel normal,” he snarked. He was lowered halfway into his chair when his cell beeped. Reaper groaned dramatically, then frowned. Beeping meant . . . voicemail? Right? Is that how he’d set that up? He stood again and snatched the small piece of tech.

“Hijo de puta,” he barked as he saw the giant string of notifications. Reaper ignored them all and went right to the voicemail once he noticed Sonya’s name.

“Hey Reaper,” her voice came through the speaker, low and slow, “I dunno if you turned in early or something, but I just wanted to let you know that I am ok. One hundred percent fine.” He began to panic, hunching over as he listened to her. “Totally good,” she said, sounding strained now. Then she burst out coughing and kept at it for far too long, moaning once she’d caught her breath. Reaper headed to his room to find some pants. “Alright, so maybe I’m not completely ok, but I’m not hurt or anything. I got out in plenty of time and Sombra’s here so hopefully she’ll let me crash with her tonight. Yeah? Sombra?”

“I am waist deep in some research, Sunshine. Nobody’s coming in my apartment right now. Not even you,” Sombra’s voice said bluntly. Reaper was pulling on his boots.

“Ugh, fine,” Sonya snapped, “but don’t worry Reaper, I’ll figure something out. Shoot me a text when you get a sec. Later!” And she hung up.

“What the actual fuck,” Reaper growled, pulling on his shirt and slipping into his cloak. The masked fell into place, and he was out the door. He wasn’t in his full armor, and his guns were left behind, so Reaper still felt a little naked, but he had to see his daughter. It was almost dark, but he could see the smoke billowing up from Sonya’s barracks. Reaper shivered and turned into a billowing fog. He was faster like this and could flit through the massive crowd of people clustered around the burning building. It only took him a few minutes to find Sonya. Sombra was standing on one side of her and Doomfist was on the other. She wore nothing but a towel around her torso, and there were way too many eyes gazing at her. Ogundimu’s included.

Reaper materialized next to Sombra and pushed the hacker out of the way. “Sonya, are you alright?”

“Yes, Reaper,” Sonya laughed at him, “I’m ok.” She coughed again, clutching the strip of fabric tight.

“’Bout time you showed up,” Sombra said shoving him. “Your little girl’s place burns down, and you can’t even be bothered to wander the 100 feet from your house to hers?”

“Jodete,” Reaper snarled at her, which only made her smirk in amusement.

“It did take you a while,” Doomfist said with a grin.

Reaper wanted to tell the giant bastard to stop eye-fucking his daughter, but the asshole would only feign innocence and prove annoying as hell. “I don’t have to justify anything to you,” Reaper huffed, pulling Sonya away from Ogundimu. She huddled close to Reaper, trembling in the cold night air.

“No need to get possessive. No harm done. Right, Sonya?” He winked at her and Reaper’s grip on his Sunshine’s shoulder.

“Stop antagonizing him,” Sonya scolded, but her tone was a bit too playful for Reaper’s liking.

“If you insist,” Doomfist chuckled. “Now come, you can spend with me tonight, Sunshine.”

“Hell. No,” Reaper hissed before he could stop himself.

Sonya failed to stifle a laugh and launched into a coughing fit. Someone nearby snickered.

“Her towel almost came off that time,” a lanky man said excitedly. Ogundimu automatically snatched the onlooker up in his mechanized fist and tossed him toward the flames. Not hard, not far enough to actually reach the fire, but enough to make the man yelp and scamper away. Everyone around Sonya took a few steps back. As much as Reaper hated to admit it, he was a bit impressed – Doomfist always managed to get his point across.

“I’m still not going to stay with you, boss man,” Sonya said shaking her head at Ogundimu.

“Why not,” the tall man boomed.

“Because I just don’t feel comfortable with it. You know that. From the many other times you invited me over. Besides, I bet Reaper’s spare pair of pjs would fit me a lot better than yours would,” she said, hinting.

“You’re staying with me,” Reaper said sternly. “It’s not a request. That’s just what’s happening.”

Ogundimu groaned loudly and rolled his head back. “You cannot be serious.” He spoke more to the heavens than anyone else, as if whining to the gods of workplace romances.

“See you tomorrow,” Sonya called out in some sort of mix between sweetness and teasing, nudging Reaper away from the crowd. He happily followed behind her.

Just before they left earshot, Reaper heard Doomfist grumble, “Forty-five years old and still getting cockblocked by a girl’s dad!” It was almost impossible to resist the urge to turn around and flip the other man off while dancing smugly, but he did, instead just looking back at his colleague with a pompous shrug.

Suddenly, Sonya yelped out a frightened noise and Reaper’s focus was back on her in a split second. She was scrambling to readjust her inadequate outfit that was now much lower on her chest. A group of three Talon grunts were cackling in delight at his daughter’s bright red face. Sonya looked like she wanted to retaliate, but she wasn’t about to take her hands off the cloth around her.

Reaper took two long strides and grabbed the arm of the man who had tried to pull off Sunshine’s towel, the claws of his glove digging deep, blood gushing. The offender cried out in pain and fell to his knees.

“Mistake,” Reaper seethed. “Apologize. Now.”

“I’m sorry,” the man squeaked.

Sonya came to Reaper’s side, scowling now. “Pathetic apology! Even a toddler knows you should say what you did wrong when you apologize.”

“Sorry I tried to tear off your top off! Christ,” he whimpered.

“Say it like you mean it,” Sonya said with a deadly smile. Reaper was so proud of her.

“Fucking hell,” he screamed, trying to recoil out of the masked man’s grip. “I am sorry for trying to pull off your towel! I’m an asshole!”

“Yes, you are,” Reaper said matter-of-factly. He turned to Sonya. “You believe him?”

“No,” she snapped, giving the wriggling man a dirty look, “but that’s probably the best we’re going to get, and he’s not worth any more of our time.”

“Your call,” Reaper said nonchalantly before bringing the force of his body down on the small man’s forearm, breaking the bone and leaving it at a jagged angle beneath the skin. The whelp howled in agony, writhing in the dirt. Reaper looked to the others that had been laughing at Sonya. “You mamahuevos are sorry too, aren’t you?” They all nodded and shrunk away.

The dark-clad man put his arm around Sonya again and draped his cape over her. He kept her close as possible as they walked. “Thanks, tuff stuff,” she said once they were alone.

“Of course, mija,” he said softly. “Sorry I wasn’t paying attention back there. I should have – ”

“Don’t worry about it! You more than made up for it by defending my honor like that. He squealed like a rat!” The joy on her face was perfectly ruthless.

“Anytime, Sunshine,” he promised her. They reached his apartment, and he waved her inside. She rushed in, bare feet padding on the floor. Poor thing’s teeth were chattering from the cold.

“There’s a heater on the far side of the room,” Reaper said with a gesture, “I’ll go find you something to wear.”

“Oh thank god,” she said darting to the opposite wall, rubbing her hands together under the warm arm.

Reaper returned in a moment with a pair of his coziest sweats in hand. “You remember where the bathroom is, right?”

“Yeah, thanks. Um, any chance I could use your shower for a sec? My hair was still wet when the alarm went off, and now part of my bun is frozen,” she admitted embarrassedly.

“Make yourself at home, Sunshine. There are clean towels on the shelf by the sink. I think,” he said trying to remember the last time he did laundry.

“Thank you,” she sighed, taking the clothes from him and heading to the bathroom.

“Sonya,” he called after her, just before she slipped out of sight.

“Yes,” she asked worriedly. She seemed rattled tonight, which was to be expected after being forced to evacuate from her home and then getting attacked by a group of pervs, but it still caused a ball of worry to build in Reaper’s stomach. No matter how empty he felt inside, his Sunshine always made him feel a little more whole.

“Have you eaten yet,” he asked. She shook her head. “I’ll fix you something,” he said turning to the fridge.

“Reaper,” she laughed sweetly, “you don’t have to do that. I don’t want to impose.”

He snorted, “Kid, I haven’t been able to eat in weeks. If you help me get rid of some of this stuff before it goes bad, you’ll be doing me a favor.”

“Oh,” Sonya wavered. He could hear the confusion in her voice – he shouldn’t have said that bit about not eating. He should have known better. He just felt so . . . comfortable around her. Safe.

“Go warm up, Sonya, everything’s fine,” Reaper assured her. They stared at each other long enough to make Reaper’s gut churn, but she nodded and disappeared into the bathroom eventually.

“Way to make your kid worry about you after her house burns down,” he growled at himself. “Parent of the year.” As Sonya cleaned herself up, the pipes in the thin walls made their telltale series of hisses, and Reaper began to cook, the repetitive movements lulling him into a calm. It had been . . . ages since he’s made a meal for someone else. The smell of sizzling bacon and the heat wafting from the stovetop were a pleasant change from his usual routine of reading dossiers on the couch or spending hours in front of a screen doing research. Maybe he should invite people over more often. No, not people. Just Sonya.

“So. Much. Better,” his Sunshine said, as if on cue. Reaper couldn’t help but chuckle at the relief in her voice.

“You done shivering for the night,” he asked.

“Jeez, I hope so,” she said pursing her lips. “I don’t suppose there’s a Talon base somewhere in the tropics I could transfer to?”

“Nope,” he said turning on the oven light, “but I think most of the other board members have vacation houses – we could crash one.”

“Ooouu,” she chirped excitedly, “now that sounds like a good time! But won’t you get hot in all that leather and metal?” She jabbed him playfully in the arm before standing next to him.

“Why do you think I’m the only one who prefers to stay out here in this frigid wasteland,” he said gently shoving her back.

“Truth be told,” she smirked, “I prefer colder climates, too. I’d much rather be hidden away in my house with a large helping of comfort food than sweating my ass off at the beach with an overpriced slushy.”

“A girl after my own heart,” he said more fondly than he would have thought himself capable of. His voice hadn’t sounded that soft in years. Sonya’s smile grew, but she said nothing. She could always sense his boundaries like that. Of course, she was usually the one toeing the line of those boundaries, too.

The peaceful moment was broken by another round of coughing from Sonya, shaking her whole body by the end of it. “You alright,” he asked once she turned back to him.

“Yeah, I’ll be ok,” she said hoarsely.

“We should get you to the doctor,” Reaper grumped.

“No,” Sonya all but wailed. “No sick bay tonight! I already had some creep’s grubby hands on me earlier, and I do not want to deal with anyone else’s shit right now.” God damn her pout was cute. And convincing.

“Fine, fine,” he agreed. “Tomorrow morning then. It sounds like you probably inhaled a lot of smoke.”

“That was not my first time in a building fire,” she shrugged, “and I’ve had much worse injuries.”

“You’ve been in other building fires?”

“I’ve always loved smoke bombs, but sometimes they get a little out of hand.”

Her mischievous grin was almost too much for Reaper to handle, but he was pretty confused as well. “You set some place on fire with smoke bombs? Like, colorful, little-kid-friendly, cost a buck fifty at the fireworks store smoke bombs?”

“I mean,” she said going red, “. . . yes.”

He burst out laughing, loud and strong. “Mierda, Sonya! How the hell did you pull that off?!”

“Hey! I am a complex, multifaceted, multitalented young woman! Maybe some of my skills are more useful than others, but they’re still skills! And I was a kid, so, ya know, I was still learning. And sorta reckless.” She looked a bit defensive but was still smiling.

“Ah, Sunshine, my little Sunshine, what I wouldn’t give to have seen that,” Reaper rumbled, still laughing lightly.

“I took down half a block the first time I tried to make my own smoke bombs,” she giggled.

“What,” he reeled.

“Don’t even bother asking,” she said covering her face, “I don’t know how I managed it either, but it was quite the show. Admittedly, I was trying to add a little more ‘bomb’ to the name ‘smoke bomb.’ I guess I got a bit too much kick in the mix.”

“Sonya, you never cease to amaze. Do you still make your own little bombs,” Reaper asked, remembering her performance in a few training sessions. She was a front lines kind of girl, but not irresponsible. With a flick of her wrist, she could destroy anyone’s line of sight and engulf the fight in darkness. It was easy picking for her after that. She was remarkable to watch.

“Yeah, I still make my own grenades. I’m quite proud of them! But enough about that, what are you making? The smell is driving me nuts!” She hovered over the stove, watching him stir the peppers and onions in the pan.

“How do you feel about breakfast for dinner? I’ve been told I make a mean burrito,” he said, peeking in the oven to check the potatoes and bacon.

“Breakfast foods are my one true love, Reaper. Especially when I don’t have to make them myself,” she replied happily.

“Well then, you take a seat, and I’ll bring you a piping hot plate once it’s ready,” Reaper said nodding to the dining area. She turned and saw his shotguns taking up most of the small table. “Oh, uh, feel free to move those,” he said quickly.

“Can I take a look first,” she said flashing a sweet smile.

“Sure,” he chuckled. He could hear her turning one of the impressive guns over in her hands, making curious little noises every few seconds.

“They’re not just the same gun copied,” she gasped. “They’re designed to be mirror images of one another – a pair! A beautiful, badass pair!”

Reaper turned around so he could see her excitement and was surprised to see her holding one of his firearms at the ready. With one arm. No shaking or struggling in sight. He knew she was strong, but it was something else entirely to see his daughter moving his enormous shotgun around with ease. “How’s it feel,” he asked, drowning in pride.

Sonya snorted as if there weren’t enough words to show her enthusiasm. With a precise, calculated movement she grabbed the other gun and pointed them both at an imaginary intruder by the front door. Reaper felt no shame in confessing he would be scared as hell if he saw her aiming at him like that – wet hair and pjs included.  She was so threatening and perfect it hurt. “You want to try them out at the range tomorrow,” he asked.

“Really? You’d let me? Sombra said you were somewhat protective of these two,” she said carefully setting the firearms beside her.

“Sombra is a hacker and the single most annoying little shit I’ve ever met. So no, I don’t trust her – not with my guns, not with anything,” he growled.

“She doesn’t make it easy to trust her, I’ll give you that,” Sonya agreed with a laugh.

Reaper finished browning up a hefty helping of food for his daughter and set it before her. “You want some salsa? Sour cream,” he offered.

“I would love some,” she said taking a deep breath of the scent wafting off the burrito. “Gods above! That smells like so good!”

He grabbed the condiments and placed them beside Sonya before taking a seat opposite her. She dug into the burrito almost viciously. Reaper had to try not to chuckle. After a few minutes, she looked back up to him and frowned. “Is it bad,” he asked. “The hash browns might have gotten a little freezer burnt . . .”

“No, it’s delicious, Reaper – crazy delicious – but aren’t you gonna have any?” She looked worried.

“I’m good,” he said simply, hoping to put Sonya at ease.

“Are you sick or something? Should I be concerned,” she fretted.

“Not at all, Sunshine, it’s just a part of being what I am.” He leaned against the table, drumming his fingers awkwardly on its smooth surface.

“Promise you’re alright? Don’t make me go all overprotective on your butt,” she warned, jabbing her fork at him with a scowl.

He laughed, “Sunshine, I’m good! Why on Earth would you think otherwise?”

Reaper had meant to be sarcastic and relaxing, but Sonya took the question too seriously. “Oh I dunno,” she blurted out, “maybe it’s the fact that I’ve never seen you eat or drink or even say you’re hungry! Or maybe it’s because I can see your hands and that is not a normal color for skin to be. Or maybe its because your digits look like little more than skin and bones and peeling flesh. It’s kind of scary.”

The masked man balled his hands into fists before tucking them out of sight. He should have put on the spare pair of gloves after taking off the bloodied ones. Nonetheless, she was right. His exposed body was an unsettling thing to see right now. Granted, he wasn’t always like this, but of course, he was decaying when she needed him.

“Sonya, I promise you, I. Am. Fine,” he began. “Some days are just worse than others. I’m not a normal man anymore – haven’t been for a long time, but I always come out on top. Give me a week, and I’ll be more man than corpse.”

“Corpse,” she repeated shakily.

He let out a heavy sigh. “Don’t worry about it, Sonya, please. I’ll go put on some gloves so you can eat without being grossed out, and then we can move on like nothing’s wrong, ok?” Reaper stood and walked past her toward his room, but she grabbed his arm stopped him.

“Wait a second,” she protested. “I didn’t mean to be rude. I’m sorry. Poor word choice. I’m not grossed out or anything, and you don’t have to put on gloves.” Her hands wrapped around one of his clammy ones. “Look, I’ve never had any family to worry about, so you’re getting a backlog of freak outs. I – I just want you to be alright.”

“Sunshine,” he murmured softly, squeezing her hand, “there’s no need for a freakout, honestly. This is simply a part of who I am. Sometimes I’m almost normal, sometimes not, but I’m still me. Just a little rougher around the edges is all.”

“Still tuff stuff,” she suggested with a small smile.

His head lolled back as he laughed, “I will always be ‘tuff stuff,’ my Sunshine, I can guarantee you that.” Sonya smirked approvingly and let go of him. “Now eat, mija, before it gets all cold and congealed.”

“’Kay,” she nodded. Reaper sat back down but still kept his hands under his arms, just to be safe. “Can I ask you one more thing though,” she said adding another scoop of sour cream to her meal.

“Fire away.”

“What does ‘mija’ mean? You know my Spanish is pretty awful,” she said, making that face she made when she was disappointed in herself.

“Literally, it means ‘my daughter,’ but it’s more of a nickname,” he explained. “If you get tuff stuff, I get mija.”

Sonya looked entirely thrilled by the idea of her new moniker – he knew she and Sombra had been talking about swapping Spanish lessons for tech upgrades. “I am one million percent ok with that,” she beamed.

Puta madre, she was grinding down his hardened shell much faster than he’d expected. This was going to be trouble. In the most wonderful sort of way.

Additional tags: @watch-your-grammer  @winchester-sonsandcastiel