#the washer and dryer are CONSTANTLY full of clothes

[weaverofink]

Of course. Of course I don't do my laundry all day because someone has left their (wet!!!!) clothing in the washing machine and as soon as I get fed up enough to decide to just go down and take the wet stuff out so I can wash my damn sheets what do I see but my roommate, starting a load of laundry

[weaselle]

@ffoxer howdy! happy to oblige :)

i used to have a dresser and a bunch of hangers in my closet and like, closet organizer thingamabobs, but instead of using any of that stuff my clothes were always in several piles around my room.

And i felt shitty about it all the time but couldn't seem to make myself the kind of person who kept their clothes folded and organized. My room was constantly cluttered with clothes like drifts of snow scattered and piled here and there. Like, i felt really REALLY shitty about that. Deep shame

any ADHDers and spoonies out there relate?

SO one day, i said to myself, what if i'm okay the way i am? What if i just need to refine how i already do things a little bit instead of insisting on reinventing my entire identity?

Did i really care about being the kind of person who's socks were rolled just so, and whose shirts were all folded perfectly and arranged by color or whatever?

no

What i did care about was not living in a cluttered, messy, unorganized, embarrassing space.

And it turns out my piles WERE an organization system. What's more, my piles were a system that had been shaped by the way i actually use my clothes, it was a system that made sense for how i live my life. And i bet it's the same for most of you who relate to what i've been saying so far.

There were the clothes that were dirty, the clothes that had been worn but could be worn again, and the clean clothes (often dumped from the washer to the bed with the intent of folding and putting away, then slept next to when that didn't happen, and finally transferred to the floor next to my bed or piled in my closet once i gave up)

These three piles (dirty, clean, wear again) made up my "i wear this stuff all the time" wardrobe, and then everything else was still in the dresser i never actually used, with a few remaining almost-never-worns hanging in the closet.

This made my dresser, essentially, just a bin of clothes i could label "rarely wear"

And the thing i hated about my piles was that they looked messy, and took up too much space, and cluttered my room, and anyone who came into my room instantly assumed i was a disaster of a human because that's what it looked like. And, honestly, that's what it felt like too.

But i could change all of that and still have piles if i just... put my piles in bins! Then they would clearly be on purpose. And contained. And on purpose contained piles aren't a mess! They're a tidy organizational system.

So i got rid of my dresser and most of my hangers and i bought four of those plastic bins with the lids that you can get anywhere from hardware stores to target. Now, if you want to inhabit a fancier lifestyle, you can get nicer bins, they make all kinds, from canvas to wicker to polished wood or whatever suits your style and budget, I'm currently using the plastic ones, but when i move i'm planning on getting something more like this

the point is, these bins contain my piles without me having to change the piles at all.

now instead of having to sort all that stuff into different drawers i just have 4 simple bins

1: clean clothes

2: dirty clothes

3: stuff i might wear a second (or third) time

4: clothes i almost never wear

remember how those first three piles make up my "wear all the time" stuff? Well, each of the first two bins are big enough to contain all those clothes (which for me is about two loads of laundry).

I have a smaller bin for clothes i've worn but could wear again. And the last one, almost-never-wear, is actually the biggest one. And naturally a couple almost-never-wear things still get hung in the closet.

So when my "wear all the time" bin is empty, that means the dirty bin is about full, and i just add the might-wear-again stuff to it and carry that bin to the washer. When it comes out of the dryer, i still follow my natural instincts to dump them in a pile and forget about them, it's just now i dump that pile into the clean bin, where they belong.

And when i'm digging for something in the bin and can't find it, just like when i would dig in my closet, i can just dump it all out on my bed to find things like i used to, but then it goes back in the bin with a sweep of the arm.

The clothes naturally sort themselves out this way, too. Say every time you go to do your laundry because you "have nothing to wear" there are the same few items left in the bottom of your clean bin. Well those are clearly part of your almost-never-wears and you can dump them in that bin before you wash your laundry. When the weather gets cold, i put most of my shorts and tank-tops in the almost-never-wear bin. I make room for them by taking out my everyday winter wear to go in the clean bin.

I can put the bins where it makes the most sense for how i use my room naturally. For instance, my sweatshirts and jeans i might wear again always used to wind up draped over the back of my desk chair, so now i put my could-wear-again bin right by my desk. If I want my room to be extra tidy, i just stack all the bins in the closet where the dresser used to be, which takes like twenty seconds.

and the BEST part is, because my bins are just the piles i was naturally already creating, my clothes stay in their bins, which is inarguably a system of organization, and my room is actually clean and orderly, no messy clothes piles in sight!

i did a similar thing with my paper piles and now there's very little clutter and i don't feel like a failure of a person about my room the way i used to!

I have accomplished Clean Organized Room without having to change who i am or how i live! 10/10 highly recommend

[slaasherslut]

BILLY LENZ NSFW ALPHABET

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

I'm sorry to say that if you're looking for some prime aftercare after being fucked for hours, you probably wont be getting it here. The closest you’ll get to softness is a warm shower together after you've both regained feeling in your limbs or cuddling up and falling asleep next to each other. Usually by the time you wake up Billy is long gone. There have been a few times where he's left clothes behind and you're still not sure if it was an accident or on purpose.

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Billy's favourite body parts of his are his hands and his cock, for a lot of obvious reasons. He loves his hands because they make him feel powerful. Those hands have taken many lives and will continue to take many more. He sees what he's done as a necessary task, and his hands help him carry out those tasks. They cause pain but they also cause pleasure. He loves seeing you writhing underneath him because of his fingers and his rough squeezing. He loves getting you off over and over again with his long fingers and even longer cock. He loves that both parts of him can make you go absolutely fucking stupid.

When it comes to you, Billy loves your thighs and any hole you'd let him fuck but that second one is pretty obvious and for obvious reasons. He loves treating those holes like a toy made just for him to ravage and fill. He is an obsessive man and he thinks about fucking those holes daily. You're on his mind all day... He loves to mark up your thighs while he fucks you. Hickeys and bite marks on your neck are one thing, but on your thighs? There is no doubt in anyone's mind that you're claimed and are getting off. He loves to lay harsh spanks on the soft flesh, bruise you up, leaving hand prints in their wake. He'll also have a tendency to scratch them up when hes feeling really good or close to cumming. He'll give you bright red swollen scratch marks with small rivulets of crimson dripping down which he loves to lick up and taste. If Billy ever sees you wearing shorts around the house and his marks on you are visible he would giggle to himself. He would absolutely lose it if you wore shorts out and about though. Holy fuck this man would cum in his pants to the idea of you showing any man passing you by that you're his without outwardly saying the words.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

If you asked Billy when you looked the most beautiful, he would say it was the moment after he covers you face in his thick cum. He thinks you look lovely struggling to not get any in your eyes and licking your lips to get one final taste of him. Pretty little piggy.. He also loves filling you up. It's one of the ways he claims you as his. He fills you over and over again until you're leaking with his seed. He can't get enough of the look on your face when you feel so full of him.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Billy is an underwear thief and you can't change my mind about this. You're constantly discovering your underwear going missing. You kept thinking maybe they got left in the washer or dryer and one of the other girls scooped them up when they did their own laundry. Whenever you asked them about it they had never seen them. Billy always has a pair of your used underwear in his pocket. He loves nothing more than to call the house and jerk off while screaming obscenities and inhaling your scent. When he's jerking off alone he will often shove them in his mouth and let his long wet tongue swirl around them. He loves taking your freshly used panties out of the laundry basket and lap at the panties with his tongue. Bonus points for him if you recently came while wearing them. The taste of your cum on the fabric makes him cum so hard. One night while laying in bed you had fingered yourself and quickly fell asleep, you didn't even have time to clean up. Billy had snuck into your room while you were sleeping and stole your panties right off your body.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He's not very experienced at all. The conversation was never had but you wouldn't be surprised if he was a virgin before meeting you. You're just lucky that in his greedy need to fuck you that he hits all the right spots inside you to make your thighs shake.

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Doggystyle - This position is perfect for him because he can pretty much fuck you as hard and as fast as he wants without having to hear you whine “you're thrusting too hard” or “Billy slow down it hurts”. He will press your face into your pillow and practically suffocate you while he's thrusting hard into you. The sounds of your incoherent babbling and sweaty skin thrashing against sweaty skin filling the room.

Breeding Press - Billy loves this position because he can see literally everything. In a lot of other positions bodies and limbs get in the way. But when he puts you in a breeding press he can see every inch of his thick cock sliding inside of you and it just makes you feel even tighter which drives him wild. He will literally drool as he watches your wet hole just sucking him in and squeezing him tight. He’ll cum inside you and watch it all leak out before scooping up his cum with his fingers before shoving it back inside of you. He’ll finger you hard and make you gush on his fingers before pulling them out and making you lick the mix of both of your pleasure off of him.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

For the most part Billy is more serious in bed. He might crack a joke or two just to hear you laugh and feel the way you tighten around him when you do so. But for the most part he's serious about wanting to get the both of you off. Any humour would come from his lack of filter when it comes to his dirty talk. Sometimes he just goes so wild that some things he says might come out a little silly. 

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

I don't think he's super well maintained. If he was with you and you requested it he would probably get you to help him trim his hair. Otherwise he would just let it grow. The hair would be dark brown, fluffy and incredibly curly, much like the soft hair on his head only much more coarse.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

If you're looking for romance, I'm sorry but you won't find it here. Billy can be a bit of a romantic and do sweet things for you throughout your relationship but to him the bedroom isn't a place for that. the most romantic thing you'll get out of him is a growled "I love you" as hes coming deep inside you or as hes looking down at your cum covered body.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

We all know the kind of man he is, if he doesn't have a hole to fuck he will jerk himself raw while imagining it. He loves to jerk off over your pillow or into your panties, little reminders of himself throughout your things. He'll also lock himself away in the attic to pull on his painfully hard cock while he thinks of you. If hes alone in the house he will be loud as hell. Moaning, whimpering, talking to himself. He would let out the most animalistic moan when he finally bursts. If the house is full however, he will be forced to cover his mouth while he jerks off. Whimpering and crying behind his hand because he wants to be louder, he wants you to hear him cumming for you. If he just recently stole some of your panties though he will gag himself with them and jerk his cock like a touch starved man.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Billy is a huge voyeur. He loves to watching you undress in your room. When he first laid eyes on you he found himself sneaking into your closet to just watch you. Whether you're doing anything sexual or not didn't matter to him. The fact that his eyes were on you while you were blissfully unaware made blood rush to his cock. The times you would undress in front of his prying eyes would make him giddy with excitement. The few times he caught you playing with yourself while he watched he almost lost his mind. He wanted nothing more than to burst out of your closet and pound you into the sheets but he knew if he did that he would get caught. He settled for watching your hands dance across your body while he did his best to cum with you.

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

His favourite place to fuck you is in your bedroom. He knows that its the one place where you two wont be interrupted. He can have his way with you however he wants and however long he wants.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

I think a better question is "what doesn't get him going?" Any outfit that shows skin makes him drool. What drives him absolutely wild though is the few times you guys have vulgar phone sex. You know hes nearby and probably watching you anyways so you put on a show for him. Your free hand ghosting, pulling your shirt up above your chest, fingers sliding in and out of you. Your words really get him going. When you're together you don't really get a word in cause hes doing all the talking, but on the phone he gets to hear everything you wanna do to him and he absolutely loses his mind over you.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Something he refuses to do is share. He refuses to let another man other than himself lay their hands on you. He has staked his claim on your mind and body since the first time he heard your voice and he will never leave you. He also has the mentality of “If i can't have her, no one will”, so you better not refuse him cause Billy don't like that or take no for an answer.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

I won't go too deep into detail since I made a post for hcs relating to oral that you can find here. But let's just say Billy is a messy eater, and so very loud.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Billy doesn't know the meaning of the words ‘slow’ and ‘sensual’. He doesn't have sex to show his partner love. Making love isn't something he's ever done or will ever do. Sex for him is purely primal. A way for both him and his partner to either release sexual tension or to breed. He’ll fuck you slower if it gets a reaction out of you that he likes a lot but it isn't sweet in the slightest. He’ll be spilling the same kind of vile phrases like he doesn't when he fucks you fast. He will laugh and say something like “I'm barely moving and you can't even handle it!” 

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He likes quickies but they're not his favourite. He prefers to take his time and ravage you but sometimes that out of the question. Living in a sorority house, there's always people coming and going. Not to mention that you're quite busy with uni. Sometimes his hand just isn't enough when he knows you're right below him and sneaks down to your room to give you a quick fuck before retreating.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Billy will always be down to try something new if he thinks either of you will enjoy it. Getting each other off in new ways is always so exciting to him. Being a huge voyeur he loves the thrill of almost being caught. If someone knocks on your door he'll make you answer them, or talk on the phone while his fingers are working themselves deep inside you. He'll make you cum on the kitchen counter right as someone else in the house is getting home. He loves the look of fear in your eyes when you get worried the two of you are going to get caught.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Sex with Billy is great because he doesn't finish too fast and disappoint you but he also doesn't last so long that you get bored, hes a happy medium when it comes to how long it takes for him to cum. In terms of rounds, he can go as many as you’d like. He’ll fill you with cum and then eat you out or finger fuck you until hes hard again before sliding back in your sore, oversensitive cunt. He can't get enough of you and if he doesn't want to stop then you're out of luck. Hes not stopping until hes had his fill, he’ll fuck you until his cock hurts and there's nothing you can do to change his mind.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

I can imagine the only toys Billy would be okay with using are the ones that you can buy a kit and make your own toys out of each other. He finds it so hot to watch you suck him off while riding a silicone version of his own cock. He loves that he can fill you from both ends. He doesn't use the one you made for him very often because if he wants you, he’ll take you, it's as simple as that. If you're not around and he's really missing you then he’ll use it. In his mind it could never compare to the real thing. He feels like no matter how much lube he uses or how much friction he gets that it could never get as wet as you can or be as warm and inviting as your hole can be.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

One of Billy's favourite ways to tease you is to call the sorority house. He knows you cant resist his voice. If you don't pick up he'll ask for you specifically. "Put that pretty little piggy on the fucking phone, you whore!" He'll tell you all the things he wants to do you to you and will do to you. He'll watch you squirm from the top of the stairs as he gets you all riled up in front of the other girls, they can usually hear everything he says.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Billy is as loud as they come. The entire time he's rutting into you he's moaning and whining like crazy. Moans that go high pitched and squeaky to incredibly deep and sultry. He goes between the two so frequently and so fast it's almost disorientating. He's not afraid to hide how good you're making him feel unless you guys are trying to be sneaky.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Hes a talker during sex, he will not shut the fuck up but you love it. This man will fuck your brains out while just spewing absolute filth that will make you quake. His dirty talk is masterful and downright nasty. 

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Billy is absolutely massive, he's a solid 8 inches fully hard. His cock is big and he knows it. He laughed the first time you took him inside you and you whined that he was too big. "Aww come on little piggy! Take my fat juicy cock!"

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

His sex drive is through the roof. Once you guys start having sex it feels like its almost impossible for you to keep up with it. He will be on you 25/8, hands ghosting over your body the moment you walk in the door. "Ive been waiting for you all day, now bend over and let me lick that pretty pink cunt of yours."

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) 

If its one of your longer sessions hes out like a light. He'll crash right next to you, snuggle into you under the covers and fall asleep. If its a short session than hes either jumping in your shower or heading back up into his hiding place.

light dividers by rainbowkisses31

☾ notes: day 3! these were so fun to write i love slutty billy. some of these i also want to expand on for future fics at some point.

☾ tag list: @rottent33th @damien-mlm @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better @the-pinstriped-hood @allthingsblood @25bohemianmoons @essenceproxima

message me if you want to be added to my tag list!

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Am I the asshole for redoing chores when my mom is gone that she did badly?

For context, I’m a germaphobe and obviously got more extreme over the pandemic.

The chores I’m redoing are just dishes and laundry. We both do laundry and dishes for the house. I don’t redo her clothes from the laundry because obviously it doesn’t bother her, I just redo mine and the towels while she’s at work or otherwise not home. I buy the detergent, bleach, and soap so she can’t complain about that.

I’ve seen her let my blankets drag on the mud room floor (which is where our washer and dryer is) while she was folding laundry. It’s also where we keep shoes and leave jackets and things from the barn. It’s the only room in the house where the floor is constantly gross with all sort of things tracked in from the horse stable. I pointed out she was getting my blanket dirty again and she blew up at me to the point that I just left the house for a few hours.

So this is why instead of confronting her I just redo things correctly.

I hate living here and if I had the option to live alone I would. I have a full time job in my field but I can’t even afford rent anywhere in the area.

My friend has said that some of the things I hate that she does are normal like folding the clean laundry on the washer even though that’s where we put all of our stuff down when we get home from work. I said that just because it’s not visibly dirty doesn’t mean that it’s not disgusting.

TLDR: I’m disgusted by the way my mom does laundry and dishes and anytime I bring it up she blows up at me and sulks the rest of the day. Am I the asshole for redoing it silently instead of confronting her or just being filthy and miserable all the time?

What are these acronyms?

[thewashlennoxca]

Laundry Service- Convenience, Efficiency, and Modern Necessity

Laundry is an essential part of everyday life, yet it often feels like a never-ending chore. With the fast-paced nature of modern living, people increasingly find themselves juggling multiple responsibilities. As a result, laundry services have become a vital convenience for many, offering a solution that saves time and effort. These services provide not only the basic washing and drying of clothes but often include ironing, folding, and even specialized treatments for delicate fabrics. This article explores the growing popularity of laundry services, the different types available, and the benefits they offer to individuals and businesses alike. For more information visit The Wash laundry Lennox.

The Growing Popularity of Laundry Services

The rise in demand for laundry services is driven by various factors, including busy lifestyles, the increasing number of dual-income households, and the convenience of outsourcing household chores. In urban areas, where people are constantly on the move, the luxury of having freshly laundered clothes without the hassle of doing it yourself is appealing. The service is not just for those who lack time; it also caters to those who prefer the professional handling of their garments.

The convenience of laundry services extends beyond just saving time. Many individuals and families living in apartments or homes without laundry facilities find it more practical to rely on a service than to visit a laundromat. Moreover, with the advent of mobile apps and online platforms, booking a laundry service has become as easy as tapping a button on a smartphone.

Types of Laundry Services

Laundry services come in various forms, catering to different needs. The most common types include:

Self-Service Laundromats: These are coin-operated or card-operated facilities where customers do their own laundry. They are equipped with industrial-grade washers and dryers that can handle larger loads and faster cycles than typical home machines. Self-service laundromats are ideal for people who have the time but lack the equipment at home.

Full-Service Laundry: This type of service is popular for its convenience. Customers drop off their dirty laundry, and the service provider takes care of washing, drying, ironing, and folding. This option is perfect for those who want to save time and ensure their clothes are handled professionally.

On-Demand Laundry Services: These services have gained traction with the rise of the gig economy and mobile apps. Customers can schedule pick-up and delivery times through an app, and the laundry is done at a central facility. This service is especially popular in urban areas where time is of the essence.

Dry Cleaning: Although technically not laundry, dry cleaning is a related service that involves cleaning clothes without water. Instead, a chemical solvent is used to remove stains and dirt. Dry cleaning is essential for delicate fabrics like silk, wool, and certain types of synthetic materials that may get damaged in a regular washing machine.

Specialized Services: Some laundry services offer specialized care for items like wedding dresses, suits, and curtains. These services may include stain removal, fabric protection, and even storage options.

Benefits of Using a Laundry Service

The benefits of using a laundry service are numerous and vary depending on the type of service chosen. Below are some of the most significant advantages:

Time-Saving: The most obvious benefit of a laundry service is the time it saves. Instead of spending hours sorting, washing, drying, and folding clothes, customers can simply drop off their laundry or schedule a pick-up and focus on other important tasks.

Professional Quality: Laundry services often use industrial-grade machines and professional detergents that are more effective than household products. This ensures that clothes are cleaned more thoroughly and last longer. Additionally, the expertise of the staff means that stains are treated properly, and delicate fabrics are handled with care.

Convenience: The convenience of not having to worry about laundry cannot be overstated. For those with busy schedules, the ability to outsource this task is invaluable. On-demand services, in particular, offer the added convenience of pick-up and delivery, allowing customers to fit laundry into their schedule seamlessly.

Cost-Effective: While some may view laundry services as an unnecessary expense, they can be cost-effective in the long run. Consider the costs of purchasing and maintaining a washing machine, buying detergents, and paying for utilities. For many, especially those who don’t do laundry frequently, a laundry service may be more economical.

Environmentally Friendly Options: Many laundry services now offer eco-friendly options, using biodegradable detergents and energy-efficient machines. Some services also offer water conservation techniques, reducing the environmental impact of laundry.

Health Benefits: Professional laundry services often include high-temperature washing and drying, which is more effective in killing bacteria and allergens. This is particularly important for households with children, elderly members, or individuals with allergies.

The Role of Laundry Services in Businesses

Laundry services are not just for personal use; they play a crucial role in various industries. Hotels, restaurants, hospitals, and gyms all rely heavily on laundry services to maintain cleanliness and hygiene standards. For these businesses, outsourcing laundry is not just a convenience but a necessity. It allows them to focus on their core operations while ensuring that their linens, uniforms, and other fabrics are impeccably clean.

In the hospitality industry, for example, the quality of the bed linens and towels can significantly impact a guest’s experience. Professional laundry services ensure that these items are washed, sanitized, and presented in pristine condition. Similarly, in the healthcare industry, the importance of clean, sanitized linens cannot be overstated. Hospitals and clinics must adhere to strict hygiene standards, and professional laundry services help them meet these requirements efficiently.

Challenges and Considerations

Despite the many benefits, there are some challenges associated with using a laundry service. One of the primary concerns is the cost, especially for regular users. While it can be cost-effective for some, others may find it to be a luxury they cannot afford. Additionally, there is the issue of trust—entrusting your clothes to a third party requires confidence that they will be handled properly.

Another consideration is the environmental impact. While many services offer eco-friendly options, not all do. Customers should be mindful of the environmental practices of the laundry service they choose, especially if they are concerned about sustainability.

Lastly, there’s the matter of availability. In rural areas or smaller towns, laundry services may not be as readily available as in urban centers. This can limit the options for those who might benefit from such services.

Conclusion

Laundry services have evolved from a luxury to a necessity for many people. Whether it’s for the time-saving convenience, professional quality, or the sheer relief of outsourcing a tedious chore, these services offer numerous benefits. As lifestyles continue to become busier, the demand for laundry services is likely to grow. However, as with any service, it’s essential to choose a provider that aligns with your needs, budget, and values. Whether you’re an individual looking to free up some time or a business needing to maintain high hygiene standards, a laundry service can be a valuable partner in your day-to-day life.

Contact Us

The Wash laundry Lennox

10903 Hawthorne Blvd,

Inglewood, California, 90304.

Phone: (310) 729-5256

Email: thewashlennox@gmail.com

Social Links

https://www.facebook.com/thewashlaundrylennox

https://twitter.com/TheWashLennox

https://www.instagram.com/thewashlaundrylennox/

[dedicated-writings]

Until Time Stands Still

summary — the only thing that is valued in society is your contribution to society. thus, it is the main character’s only focus to be the most efficient and perfect they can be setting aside their own autonomy and becoming obsessed with not wasting time in a world that exchanges people’s contributions to the betterment of society for money. a society such as this is perfect, isn’t it? or perhaps, maybe it lacks something…

genre — fiction; dystopia; mystery; revolution; magical realism; sfw;

word count — 4003; dividers in 3 sections;

note — this story is a project i made for my creative writing class. it’s the beginning of a hypothetical book that i could potentially go on to complete, but as of now it is incomplete. the story includes all of the projects i had to complete throughout the course but are all packed into a story in a fictional dystopian society. if you have somehow found this, please enjoy reading it.

Life only has room for repetition. It is the most effective use of the limited time you had in a day. And everyday becomes a perfect reflection of the day before. Waking up, stopping the stopwatch, getting dressed, brushing my hair and teeth, walking down the stairs, drinking my breakfast, walking out the door and starting my commute to work. My mind is constantly consumed by what decisions to make that increase my productivity in a day and use my time the most efficiently; most of the time, it's hard to step out of the mindset that is auto-piloted to be thinking about myself and to realize that people also have their own lives which they try to perfect the efficiency of. 

For example, I often see my mother cleaning in different parts of the house, after she gets home from work, she's hauling clean clothes from the washer, dryer, and folder, up the stairs and into everyone's closets. And I'm almost certain she dreams of a machine that will deliver the clothes themselves. That would be more efficient. For a woman with a never ending list of to-dos, I'm certain her mind is plagued with complaints as she works around the clock in both the home she's created and the job she's been a servant for. 

I see her sweat and earnest labor in my peripheral vision, it's not a new sight and each time I see it, I stop for a moment and wish that I had the time to check off a few bullet points off on her to-do list, but only for a moment. There is no use in pondering on things that you can never do. Things you will never have the time to do.

In other parts of the house, my father is somewhere watching old videos from the Archives and studying them for his job. When I was younger, I would watch the old videos in awe. How could people live in such a chaotic and unstable society? 

There was one video I can clearly recall, a young woman, maybe 20, who was reciting a speech. A speech about how one's life has value simply because they exist. She spoke on how someone doesn't need some sort of tragedy, trauma, or incapacitation to convey to those around you that you have a good life, a successful life, and a life full of worth. It seemed so inspirational as an eight-year-old. But now, I know better. Your usefulness to society is what makes your life valuable and optimizing the use of your time is what makes you successful.

My father has such dreadful work. The videos, books, articles, and photographs from the previous century take so long to decipher, translate, and understand. And unfortunately, it seems that there is no faster way to do it; the fool proof technology that could translate and summarize each piece of information from these artifacts hasn't been created yet. Even though someone out there should have the time to invent it. 

My father becomes agitated at the wastefulness of time spent at his job. I can hear him make passive side comments at mother: cold, brash words that pierce my mothers heart. Her fiery spirit leaves her body as the icy dagger-like words seep deep into the core of her heart. Ashes remain as a reminder of what she once was before my father had gifted her words with a frosty bite and cold shoulders. Until somehow, a reignition restarts their burning love which blazes as if it's unaware of the ice storm that inevitably chases them. But at the end of the day, it's just a waste of time. 

Relationships are a waste of time, especially since there is such little time within a day. Love lasts but for a season and then you only tolerate your partner for the rest of time since the days are so short anyway. There's no wiggle room for fights, no wiggle room for outdated practices like divorce. If there's a good probability that life will end up in obnoxious misery from failing love then there's no efficiency in seeking it out. That might be considered an progressive philosophy but it's a philosophy I've surrendered to. 

I swallow down the liquid from a gray bottle. It has a paper label on it that features my name and all the nutrients put into the liquid that have been specifically catered to my body's needs in order to remain in perfect health. As I finish the contents of my dinner, I half mindedly listen to the news network that always started playing on the intercom in the house the moment that 10pm struck on the clock. A newscaster relayed all the important information and events that had happened today, starting with a list and overview of the events and then informing what times the channel would be providing in-depth descriptions of said events. 

Most of what had happened today was nothing to pause your nightly routine for, but there was one thing that had my brow perking up as my ears captured every word without distraction. The NTA had been broken into. There were four suspects but only one of them had been caught. They had hidden their faces and anything that would give away even a hint about their identity. The suspect that had been taken into custody was currently unwilling to respond to any interrogation.

A ping came from the back pocket of my jeans. I brought my phone out to check the notification I had received; the specific ping that had emitted from my phone had already alerted me that it was a notification from my work, and I read the task that I had been assigned to complete tomorrow. It turned out that pausing my nightly routine to place focus on the news was not a waste of time after all.

The day started like it had been copy-pasted from every other day I’ve had since I started life as an adult. I woke up to the beeping of my alarm clock and stopped the stopwatch to record my daily limit of six hours of rest per night. I flung myself out of bed with no hesitation and slipped into my work clothes, then headed straight for the bathroom to brush my teeth, wash my face, and brush my hair. 

In a flash, I’m down the stairs of my two story house and walking the short hallway to my kitchen. I had passed my mother on the way, morning pleasantries left our lips in succession but neither of us looked up to make eye contact, we were both much too focused on our tasks and its not like we didn’t know who we were talking to.

My eyes flicked immediately to my bottle of breakfast in the fridge, I grabbed it and twisted the cap off before downing it in three large gulps. After tossing the bottle in the trash, I made my way over to the front door, pulling out my personal ID. I inserted it into the slot in my front door and listened for the beep and the relay of time. Like everyday, I left my house at exactly 6:45am. 

It was a long ten minute shuttle to my workplace, the shuttle being packed with citizens just as it always is. 7am was a common call time for work, especially in my city, luckily my stop was one of the first few. I stepped off the bus onto the pavement in front of my workplace’s doors and entered them along with a few other colleagues. Each of us had our work IDs scanned, as well as our personal IDs, and soon we were granted access from the front doors into the elevator room which lifted us to our departments.

As the head photographer of the news bureau, I stepped off last and into the top floor of the building. I glanced at my watch reading the perfect time of 7:00 o’clock on the dot. Multiple cream-colored files were laid on my desk as I walked into my office. They were all pictures I had to review and clear for the web-papers. However, after last night's broadcast went out, I had much more urgent matters to attend to and one of the files encased a list of details about the NTA break-in story.

The details included nothing about the story at all but instead included a list of needs for the story to be published. The only things that mattered to me were what I needed to get done, so my eyes flicked past the unnecessary information and straight to my portion of the work. A shot of what the NTA currently looks like post break-in, a mugshot of the apprehended culprit, and headshot of the lead detective along with a statement from him.

Committing the required shots to memory, I stepped out of my office and into the elevator once more. I scanned my company badge and personal ID and watched the system take note of the time and then flash the words ‘Stopwatch Bypassed’ across the screen in green letters. The elevator doors opened and a shuttle arrived an excruciatingly long minute later at approximately 7:15am.

The shuttle moved from sector to sector, picking up and dropping people off, and taking utterly too long to arrive at the NTA but eventually it was my turn to get off. As I walked into the marble entrance of the government building, a sleek white robot came to my assistance. I informed the robot that I was here for business matters and its chestplate moved down to reveal a scanner and an ID slot. 

The robot collected the information from my identification items and asked how it could assist someone from the news bureau. Soon enough, it guided me down a long hallway and through large metal doors. Behind the doors was another door but this time leading to a vault. The vault door wasn’t tampered with in the slightest, however the wall adjacent to the door was axed into, bashed, scratched, and scuffed. Whoever had broken in didn’t anticipate the walls to be made out of stone.

The strangest thing about the wall wasn’t the red handprints that littered it – those must have appeared as soon as security had caught sight of the culprits – the strangest thing was the metal box that was attached to the wall. It was horribly welded and had an alarm clock strapped to it, unfortunately the clock didn’t seem to be functioning and whatever the device was meant to do, it didn’t look like it was functioning either. That thought should have been relieving but instead I felt chills crawl up my spine the longer I looked at the metal box.

Yellow caution tape prevented me from getting a closer view but the zoom on my camera allowed for me to get the headlining shot. The wall damage, caution tape, red handprints, and strange device were all featured in the photo and I deemed it satisfactory. But, as I glanced at my watch, I found it uncharacteristically took me 5.43 seconds to get the shot. How come I took so long?

I gulped the feeling of uneasiness down and hardened my demeanor. I informed my completion to the assistant robot and it escorted me down to the entrance of the building. A part of me expected to feel better once the NTA faded from view, but as I sat in the shuttle my breaths remained just as shallow and my senses remained just as sensitive.

My eyes bounced back and forth between my watch and the window, I desperately waited for the precinct to come into view and every second felt longer than the last. Biding time was frustratingly difficult and always had my mood turning sour. All these people in engineering and not one of them could produce a mode of transportation that could get people places fast enough.

The anticipated sight of the precinct was soon in view and I hopped off the shuttle as soon as the breaks brought the bus to a complete stop. The doors to the precinct held an ID slot and a scanner. The scanner was dedicated to the use of law enforcement solely, therefore I only inserted my personal ID. A few embarrassingly long seconds later, the door unlocked and a receptionist hologram relaid information about where to go depending on my reason for arrival.

After an eternity, she mentioned how to get to the detective offices and I wasted no time in getting there. The lead detective noticed me immediately and handed me a file of the official mugshot of the apprehended criminal as well as his personal written statement. Standing by one of the blank walls of the building, the detective complied as I took his headshot. 1.32 seconds; that was more on brand for me.

A crash and a yell ripped my attention away from my watch as two officers dragged a woman, who looked to be in her thirties, across the room and to the cell halls. The woman was clearly unstable and had hot and cold tendencies that contrasted. One moment she would be relentlessly fighting to be free of their grasp and in the next her whole body would droop in despair as she silently sobbed. Only one thing remained constant through every behavior she took on; whether she screamed or cried, all she would say was, 

“You should fear the ticking of the time bomb… you should all fear the ticking of the time bomb…” 

And every time she’d yell or whisper that phrase my heart beat faster and faster. I had no idea what that meant, maybe that's what unnerved me so much about it but I stood too shocked to move just from the sight of the woman and the pure fear behind her words.

The lead detective cleared his throat before telling me that I should be on my way and simply from his words, my mind cleared past the fog it was stuck in and I made my way to the wretched shuttle. The wretched shuttle that gave me all the time to think and worry about what that woman meant. But I didn’t have the time to care, I had to remind myself that. I had a job to do.

And I did it. I stepped into the elevator and gave it my IDs, watching the words ‘Stopwatch Bypass Ended’ flicker across the screen in orange before heading into my office to face the work set out for me. The rest of the day was spent formatting what the newspapers would look like between laptops, tablets, and magazine-pads. The pictures I had taken and received were inputted into the database of the bureau with just a few clicks of my mouse. I reviewed the photos that were given to me in the files that I had seen on my desk that morning and I led a meeting with the trainee photographers and senior photographers before joining a meeting about the list of stories that would be scheduled this week.

And though I finished the day not a second early nor a second late, I couldn’t shake the feeling of dread and exhaustion that the day had brought. Heavy handedly, I pushed open my front door, ignoring the beep that signified that my time of arrival had been recorded, I walked to the fridge and lazily brought the bottle of food up to my mouth. I tossed it in the can and walked upstairs to get ready for bed, completely disregarding the usual routine of listening to the news.

I opened my laptop to review all of the events that had been recorded in the day: from waking up and until I went to bed. I manually typed in the time I would be asleep, which was approximately 5 minutes from the time I hit enter and I climbed under the covers knowing that my time log had been sent off to the National Time Association successfully.

But there was a debilitating itch that festered in the back of my mind, an irrational fear that flickered through my head in every idle second, a furious storm of questions that struck the moment I closed my eyes. What was the metal box attached to the wall at the NTA? What was its purpose? What did the culprit mean when she spoke of fearing a ticking time bomb? Was there an impending threat? Should I have mentioned it to the lead journalist? Should I have asked the lead detective what it meant? Should I contact an investigative journalist? 

Eventually, all these thoughts were put to rest. I needed my daily six hours. Not a second more and certainly not a second less. Afterall, time is money.

More often than not, time seemed to speed by. Here one moment and gone the next, blurring the days together until they created one clear image of projection – the entire concept of my life. But as my eyes closed and the hands of sleep embraced my rampant mind, time seemed to impossibly slow. 

The leaves rustled against each other as the wind blew against them. Together, they created a symphony on an otherwise painfully silent day. The added clicking of my black boots against the pavement was akin to the beat, adding another layer to the music. My vision was filled with different hues of red, orange, and yellow as those leaves bid their green coats goodbye. One by one they fell, carpeting the pavement for pedestrians to walk on like a runway. The breeze hit my hands and bit at my nose; unnoticeable at first, it slowed my movements down the cooler my temperature dropped. But no matter how cold the air became or how frozen my blood felt, my eyes and lungs still burned. I stopped by a wooden bench and sat, wrapping my arms around myself and turning my gaze to the carpeted ground.

How could I sit? What was I doing here? I didn't have time for this. I had things to do – important things – I’m certain of it. But for the life of me, I can’t remember what. 

The air would whistle as I breathed in and out, the more I paid attention to it, the more it bothered me. So, I turned my focus to the smell of the trees and the leaves that kept me company until some other lonely soul came into contact with mine. He didn't say much, he simply smiled. Somehow, the smile seemed… warm. My brows furrowed at the feeling. 

How could a facial expression portray the concept of temperature? That was preposterous at best and somehow the warmth felt like it had thawed my chest just a fraction.

 He sat and stared at the trees, listening to the leaves, and feeling the breeze, and he sighed. A content sigh. As if he had just found a solution to a previously seemingly inescapable problem. Or like he had finally checked off every bullet point on a long to-do list. Like he finally accomplished everything he ever wanted in life. As if he had accumulated all the time in the world.

The bench overlooked a small park filled with puffer jacket clad children whose laughter filled the symphony with strong vocals. Their parents watched as they climbed, swung, ran, and played along the bark and across the jungle gym. A tumble and a cry resounded through the crescendo of leaves but it soon ran quiet once again. A small chuckle came from the stranger sitting next to me as he went on to say ‘cute kid’ and relaxed back into the bench. A passing thought flickered through my mind, perhaps this man is thinking of his own children or maybe even his grandchildren? You never really know what transpires in other people's lives.

Why should I care about that, though? What difference to me does it make if he has grandchildren or not? There is no societal benefit from obtaining that knowledge. There is no societal benefit of me sitting here and watching other people collectively waste time.

I became sick of the whistling from my nose ruining the symphony of this simple Autumn day like a violin playing out of tune amongst a glorious orchestra. I inhaled through my mouth, the icy air landing on my tongue and drying my mouth. It didn't taste like much but it tasted clean. Pure. Untainted. It tasted like nothing. Not good nor bad but nothing. Vulnerable to pollution or enhancement depending on the circumstances of its environment. And just as another cool wave of wind hit my head and blew my hair in every which-where, so did a revelation crash into me as well.

With the leaves bidding the old goodbye. With the air waiting to adapt to the changes of atmosphere. With Autumn: a season that carries out a transition. I have found myself in the midst of a season of change. 

But even though I had now figured out this fact, what good did it do? How was this beneficial in any way? This was idiotic and fruitless. There was no point in sitting here in a park, watching leaves fall to the ground, getting smiled at by a stranger, and wasting my precious time all for the simple modern proverb that ‘change was inevitable’.

And that’s when I ripped myself from the clutches of slumber and turned to face my alarm clock with a horrified stare. I woken 20 minutes before schedule. I had dreamed. I tore the blankets off my legs and trod over into my bathroom. Opening the bottom drawer of my counter and picking up the thermometer I barely ever used, I stuck it under my tongue with rage-shaken hands.

To my utter confusion and insatiable frustration – I was not sick. I had no fever. But, how come? Even though being sick was incredibly rare and unfavorable of an explanation, it was the most probable one. Why else would I have had shivers down my spine, unexplainable anxiety, and an exhausted body yesterday? Why else would I have dreamed for the first time since I was nine and have woken up early, on top of that?I had to be sick, there would be no other reason for my disrupted behavior. I never broke my schedule. 

I took a deep breath and hurried back to my room to stop my stopwatch. I tried to ignore the increasing worry that these events had caused me as I got ready for the day like I would any normal day. Abnormalities were terrifying but they weren’t unheard of, so I shouldn’t overreact to these happenstances. Just because I lost focus and let my perfect schedule slip between my fingers doesn’t mean that I was going crazy.

But even as I tried to calm my spiraling thoughts, the alarming threat of being yet another person deemed unworthy and unfit to remain in this society loomed over my head like a cloud. The mere suggestion that I could turn out to be like the culprit apprehended yesterday shattered my brain in fragments. I could almost feel my sanity dissipating with every passing second.

Determination welled within me after I swallowed the last gulp of my breakfast. I could fix this. I could win back my perfected life – I could even make it more efficient. I just had to focus on what was important. Serving my society and completing my deadlines for the day time after time. And once I had served enough, I could exchange my hours for money and live out peaceful, perfect days with no responsibilities, no work, no stopwatches, no alarms, no time logs; just rest for the rest of my days…

But until time stands still, I must surrender my every second for the devotion of the perfection of efficiency.

Written by @dedicated-writings 2024.

[drip-drop-brain-pop]

Struggles of Healthcare

I work as a CNA, and I'm super super passionate about it. I'll be the first one to start screaming at the top of my lungs about resident rights, their dignity, their humanity that people forget about. I take my job seriously, to the point where I go above and beyond to help my residents, to make sure they're comfy/safe. I've worked at VP since January this year, and it's been one wild ride. I started part time, literally only 12 hrs every other weekend, with promises for more hours. Guess what never happened, to no one's shock. So in late July I picked up another job at WS, and was so impressed by the place I wanted to go full time. So starting in August, I dropped my hours at VP and started working at WS. Come to mid September and things are going terribly at WS, I've got coworkers targeting me for no reason and trying to claim I'm bruising the people we care for. Well this wasn't true, and I wasn't going to stick around to find out how much worse things could get. I ended up crash landing back at VP, working overnights. Starting back at VP felt good, like coming home after a stressful trip. It wasn't going to feel that way for very long, as I would discover.

Today is 10-21, and I'm waiting for a call Monday to schedule an interview at another home. Things are not good in the land of VP, and for the first time, I'm nervous to be working at a place. State has a magnifying glass on the place over inappropriate resident relations, and our Director is still trying to hide things from them in regards to the open investigation. One of the residents in question was given a notice of eviction, but it's up to her kid to find another facility for her to go to, and they haven't done anything yet. On top of this, the place is literally falling apart. The transportation van has been broken for over a year, the wifi is very spotty and hard for the residents to use, but they won't pay to fix that either. We are in charge of washing our residents clothes, we have 3 washers and 3 dryers. The problem is one dryer has been out of order for over a year and a half and another one is about to go out, but nothing has been done to resolve that either. I feel angry for my residents, because they live there and don't have other options. This place also keeps employees that are lazy, neglectful and rude to residents, and any reports of this behavior are brushed off by management. One employee literally posted one of the residents on her snapchat story because he fell and she was mad about it. The resident's face wasn't visible but that isn't the point. I just feel like the resident's deserve better and nothing is being done to change it. Also, we can't get new hires in, because our background checks are being delayed by the state. All because we are behind on our Medicare charting, which we wouldn't be behind on if our Director (who cannot fill them out, she has no medical certifications) hadn't kept them in her office where we couldn't access them.

At this stage in the game, I'm just hoping I can kill this interview so I can get out of there. Someone is going to end up getting hurt, and I can't be there to witness it. I know that I wouldn't be able to contain my temper, and I can't guarantee I wouldn't get physical, which isn't who I am anymore. I care about the people that live there, they all have a piece of my heart, but the burn out I feel is real. In the space of a month I've gone from being joyful and peaceful to angry and resentful, and most of all, constantly exhausted. There's only so much one person can take, and I'm reminding myself that there's nothing wrong with knowing your boundaries and honoring them.

[harvey090]

Simple Ways to Extend the Life of Your Appliances

Simple Ways to Extend the Life of Your Appliances

Here are some refrigerator, dishwasher, laundry machine, and dryer maintenance advice. Each of these main appliances has an average lifespan of 10 to 13 years, so start saving for your next purchase around the nine-year mark.

There are numerous aspects that influence a machine's longevity. Regular maintenance, on the other hand, may help preserve the longevity of your appliance, allow you to prevent costly service calls, and result in lower utility bills.

Clean the plumber brunswick to keep the fridge running smoothly and cool. Refrigerators are mainly expected to keep working. But imagine waking up with a house full of holiday guests and discovering that it has stopped. Not only do you have to pay for repairs ($220 to $270 on average) or a new fridge (anything from $350 to over $2,500), but you may also have to make an expensive trip to the store to replace all of the damaged food.

Keeping the condenser coils clean is the most crucial aspect of refrigerator maintenance. A dirty coil will not release heat as well, requiring the compressor to work harder, reducing its life and perhaps costing you money in increased utility costs. Fortunately, the procedure typically takes around 15 minutes and only needs to be performed once or twice a year.

To begin, unplug your refrigerator. Units with coils beneath them will most likely have a cover that has to be removed and a condenser fan that needs to be cleaned. Other models have exposed coils on the rear. Clean up the dirt and dust using a brush or vacuum. Check for and empty or dry out the drip pan, which is frequent on units with built-in defrosters.

A dishwasher's interior must also be cleaned. While a dishwasher is not required, it is wonderful to spend time with visiting family and friends rather than washing dishes by hand. During a recent family visit, we ran our dishwasher many times per day.

It is critical to clean the inside of the dishwasher because mineral deposits and residual food scraps can accumulate, resulting in clogged or leaky components and offensive odors. Running an unloaded dishwasher through a cleaning cycle with white vinegar may suffice. You may also need to scrub the walls by hand and clean the filter, which is usually located near the bottom of the machine.

Next, gently clean and inspect the plastic gasket around the door; a crack or leak could result in a costly mess. While gaskets are roughly $10, labor charges can range between $75 and $150 per hour, and water damage can be substantially more.

Keep your washer and dryer load limits in mind. I'm constantly astounded at the mountains of laundry that accumulate when you have a full house. While extra towels, sheets, and clothes from visitors may be tempting, don't overload your machines.

Too much weight might cause things to prematurely wear out and break. Furthermore, you may end up with detergent residue on your clothes and need to rerun the cycle (a waste of time, water, and energy), or you may end up with moist clothes that need to be dried.

Close the washing and dryer doors carefully as well. Too much force could break the switch, which is a little device that tells the machine when the door is closed. The typical cost to repair common washing machine problems is $50 to $150, while dryer repair charges range from $100 to $400.

[morningstarlucemon]

Do we have a case against our landlords? (Legal Advice)

So, me and my ex have been living in a studio apartment in KY for the last three years. And we've had nothing but problems since we moved in. I'm just gonna go ahead and copy+paste my google review of it cause it's already a concise list.

- first winter we were without working heat

- laundry room barely has any working units, units may destroy your clothing, dryers will not dry your clothes but will eat your money, washers are constantly leaking so the room is often flooded

- pool was open for one season, then promptly closed and left to fester for nearly two years, only recently fixed

- false advertisement -- non-working pool (for almost two years), "hardwood" floors are cheap laminate that has started to peel, as have the kitchen countertops

- SEVERE pest infestations, ineffective pest treatment; we've had clouds of gnats in the apartment, roaches in our microwave, ants in our food, and mice on occasion; these problems are constant, despite trying to buy and use our own treatments in addition to the building's

- maintenance is severely overworked, but the owners refuse to hire more people; as a result, things are left broken and the units are almost unlivable (e.g. our sink was broken and backed up for a year, our bathroom door rusted off its hinges for six months, our heater inoperable for a whole winter, many more broken "amenities"), we've placed work orders, not had them filled, and when we go to ask about it, found they were deleted and marked as "complete"

- required 48 hour notice before entering apartment NOT given; notices handed out less than 24 hours in advance, gave us no time to clean or make sure we'd be home

- mail is often stolen, mailboxes sometimes left unlocked by carrier; packages not received due to no one being in the office during supposed "working" hours

- there are sometimes puddles of piss in the stairwell

- there is no way for wheelchair bound people to enter or exit the building without help; my roommate uses mobility aids, and has immense trouble getting into the building without falling (Recently, this led to EMTs not being able to get a gurney in to retrieve my roommate/ex after a 911 call. The EMTs commented on it not being ADA compliant.)

- steps behind the building are broken and uneven; we've both injured ourselves on the steps that lead to the dumpster

- dumpster is constantly full, often having bags piled up around it, broken glass all over the parking lot and small grass plot out back

- the basement has been flooded several times

- had our car broken into on camera-- footage was never retrieved as we requested

- frequent screaming in the halls/outside our windows

- broken fuses that easily blow out

- up until this year, fire alarms being pulled/set off consistently every month, sometimes several times

- "emergency" phone outside our window to the pool somehow receiving calls (it is supposed to be outgoing only) at all hours of the day and night, waking us up

- door to basement on our side is nearly impossible to open, and we were almost locked out when seeking shelter during a tornado watch.

- leaking AC

- water came pouring down our ceiling at one point from the apartment above; they have yet to fix the damage to our counter

We have brought all these issues up to the SEVERAL property managers we've had over these three years (yes, several). First one left after we moved in. Second one promised to address it, but it never got done. Third one same thing, except whenever i get upset or demand better living conditions, she always comes back at me with, "Well, you have too many pets, sooo..." (implying she'll just kick us out if we ask for a livable unit).

When we moved in, we disclosed our pets to the person who rented to us, and were told we were grandfather-claused in to be able to keep them when the managers changed. But our new one doesn't seem to be respecting that, so we're having to pretend we don't have as many as we do. I will absolutely admit we have too many animals for the small space (not intentionally-- but that's a whole other issue). We used to have issues with the smell. But we do our best to keep it as clean as we can after receiving our first notice, and have been told our efforts have paid off and reduced the issue. That is our ONLY violation as far as i am aware. We've also been told, when we complain about the non ADA compliance, that it's a "historical building," and they're not required to make it wheelchair accessible. I have asked for contact information to the actual owners/landlords, and have been brushed off and denied contact to them, being told, "It wouldn't really do anything." Our only point of contact is the building manager. The pests have been blamed on our animals, even tho they are an issue throughout the building, just worse in our apartment.

We are also not the only people with these issues. I have talked to several residents about the issues they've faced, many being highly similar to ours.

We CANNOT afford to move out. We're both disabled and out of work. And they're charging us almost $900 a month, so we are unable to save.

Here are some of the images i've taken documenting the issues. Not all are shown, but this should give you an idea of what we're dealing with.

I've tried reporting them for health violations and ADA violations, but nothing has been done yet. I don't remember where i reported them, either.

Do we have a case? Can we contact someone about this? If so, what should we do?

EDIT: Here are the photos/videos.

https://sta.sh/2niqe5ciptx?edit=1

https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/594077125028610051/1097994763434721310/20230418_142806.mp4

https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/594077125028610051/1098021140783431770/20230418_190113.mp4

[lettersfromthelevant]

Bro, how are so many people picking dishes? Even if you don't have a dishwasher, they are a one-sitting affair; you can get them all done in one go and then go back to your day. You don't have to sort them, wash them by load, and have your day constantly interrupted getting up to put the wet clothes in the dryer, pull out and fold the dry clothes, and put new clothes in the washer. Like, even if you live by yourself, laundry is a full day affair of interruptions.

[equatorappliancesusa]

Cleaning Your Appliances Effectively

Maintaining the upkeep of your appliances can be beneficial and reduce germs and other unseen dangers that can be detrimental to your health. Appliances such as your washer/dryers and vacuums are extremely valuable in daily cleaning processes. Therefore, ensuring these products are cleaned consistently, almost as much as they are used to be cleaned, is highly essential.

 This obviously will improve performance, efficiency, and overall maintenance. Lastly, many appliances are “high-touch” surfaces, which means interaction with these necessities are constantly happening daily. For instance, think of how much your refrigerator handle is touched in a day. With each touch there is more of a chance for viruses, bacteria, and germs, to be left on the surface. Let’s take a browse around the house and be mindful of some ways that we can keep our appliances performing to the best of their abilities.

Refrigerator

Equator suggest that you plan to organize and clean your refrigerator when it isn’t full; such as right before you go shopping for groceries. Be sure to use warm soap and water to sanitize the drawers (inside and out) and use detergent to ensure walls are clean, along with the shelves and exterior. Additionally, twice during the year, keep your manual handy to help guide you with the “use and care” section, and carefully unplug your refrigerator and utilize a coil brush and vacuum to remove dust from the coils. When you buy any Equator Advanced Appliance take advantage of our easy-to-use QR code to access the manual of any product with ease and convenience.

Dishwasher

This appliance is extremely significant to clean, as food debris will get trapped in the dishwasher filter during wash cycles. Therefore, ensuring this part of the appliance is maintained is key to keeping your dishwasher clean. For the exterior of your dishwasher, use a soft dish cloth with soap and water to sanitize. Then, finish and dry the surface with a dry cloth. Lastly, glass or steel cleaner can be used to get rid of fingerprints. Check out Equator’s WBT 2440 Series Dishwasher with 8 cycles and a spacious 15 placements, perfect for any residential space.

Check out our VSM 6000! Equipped to vacuum, sweep, and mop, making it durable for multiple services. 

Portable Appliances and Vacuums

When cleaning portable appliances like our PAC 162 Portable AC with 4-in-1 functions using a nonabrasive, all-purpose detergent and proper drying with a wash cloth is suggested. With vacuums, make sure you check the brush roll regularly to guarantee that nothing isn’t blocking or wrapped around it. Also, confirm that filters and bags are emptied and appliance is powered-off while cleaning. Equator’s VSM 6000 Vacuum, Sweep, Mop, comes with a self-sanitizing feature, making the upkeep of this product easy and convenient!

With Equator’s advanced and convenient appliances, the upkeep of daily necessities has never been easier. With energy guides and QR accessible manuals for each product, ensuring that you are knowledgeable and well equipped on all you need to know about our products are our top priority. Visit our website today to learn more!

[lue-arlert]

hi!! for the smut prompts, how abt “i’ve never wanted to fuck you more than i do now” for reiner? tysm 💛

Hello hello 👀

Coming right up!

Sorry for the long delay in getting this out, I hope you enjoy it 😭

Smut prompt list

Content warnings: pet names, fingering, vaginal sex

Reiner gazed at you, his heart full of love, and his cock full of throbbing lust. You were in his old college tee shirt from his environmental awareness club, and nothing else. It was laundry day, so what else were you to wear?

Watching you carry a heavy basket full of dirty clothes got his mind spinning—seeing the domesticity in you, seeing your tits bounce under his old school logo and the hem of the shirt sway around your perfect ass, and seeing the sheen of sweat on your forehead from constantly going back and forth between the laundry room and bedroom had him itching for you.

As you dropped articles into the washer, you felt heavy hands on your hips and let out a low gasp, then smiled with a chuckle and rested a hand on Reiner’s. “Hi, baby,” you chirped pleasantly, then your jaw dropped as you felt something hard and thick pressing into your ass.

“Reiner,” you breathed, turning to look over your shoulder at him.

He leaned his face down to yours and kissed your temple, quietly saying, “I’ve never wanted to fuck you more than I do now.”

You blushed furiously at this, your brows furrowed in confusion. “But why? I’m just doing chores.”

One hand slid forward around your pelvis and hooked his thick fingers onto your pussy, making you gasp as his other hand slid up to your ribs to hold you in place. “I wanna be inside of you,” he cooed your name into your ear and began to push his fingers into your pussy lips, pulling another sharp inhale from you.

“R-Reiner,” you whined, arching your back so your ass pressed into his cock. “What’s gotten into you?”

He didn’t answer you, but began to kiss your ear and cheek, down to your neck while circling a finger over your clit. You could hear how wet he was already making you, and your lip tucked into your teeth as you held back a moan.

He sucked on your neck, leaving his mark on you as his fingertips left your clit and slid further into your folds, wasting no time to plunge into your tight hole.

“Fuck,” you moaned, pushing your ass further into his hips and clutching onto the washer. “Reiner, please.”

He hummed into your neck and brought his free hand down to grab your thigh, pulling your leg up to rest your knee on the dryer beside you and pressing his chest into your back to lean you forward. “Getting you ready for my cock, love.” The purr in his voice gave you the shivers and you nodded, leaning over the open lid of the washer.

“‘M ready, Reiner,” you panted, holding back a moan as his fingers found a deep spot inside of you that felt incredible.

He removed his hand from your thigh and reached between the two of you, pushing his sweats and briefs down and letting his cock spring free, slapping against your ass.

Reiner grabbed the base of his girth and ran his length through your folds after pulling his fingers out, wetting himself to get ready to fuck you.

You smiled as you waited, the anticipation of his glorious stretch giving you butterflies.

Without a word, Reiner pushed his cockhead into your tiny hole and a growl rumbled in his throat at the sound of your loud moan and the tightness of your pussy. “Shit, baby, feel amazing,” he panted, pressing his chest into your back as he bottomed out.

You were ready for him, so you began to rock your hips as best as you could with the angle you were at, whimpering at the stretch and feeling of his twitching cock inside your walls.

He smirked and began to push in and out of you, holding onto your waist to stabilize you against the washer. “You like my fat cock, baby?”

“Uh-huh,” was all you could choke out, already drunk on him, wanting him to make you cream and scream.

He picked up his pace and began to stroke deep inside of you, making you grab onto the washer to keep yourself steady. “You wanna cum? You wanna cum on my cock?” He chuckled when you couldn’t answer him coherently, already whimpering and moaning and clenching around him.

He squeezed your waist, holding you down as he found himself becoming pussy drunk on you, and began to fuck you like you were his favorite fleshlight, pushing as far deep inside of you as his cock could get, just barely grazing your cervix and making you start to yelp.

“That’s it baby, get loud.” Reiner grunted and released one hand from you, gripping your hair and tugging while his other hand pressed down into your lower back, his pace never faltering. “Say my name.”

“Rei-Reiner,” you squeaked before letting out a low groan at the feeling of him twitching inside of you and hitting that spot.

He groaned with you, shifting his feet and fucking you somehow faster. He felt you clenching around him and knew you were close, so he gave your hair another tug and slammed his cock into you, balls hitting your clit and stimulating you straight into your orgasm.

You shrieked and curled your toes against the floor of your laundry room, feeling your core squeezing around him and oozing slick.

Reiner gasped as it sent him into his own release, and he stilled his hips as he came deep into your womb, filling you with the sweet warmth you loved to take from him.

He panted above you and leaned down to kiss the top of your head, smiling into your hair. “Love hearing you moan like that for me, baby.” He nuzzled your head and smiled wider when you chuckled.

“Love you, Reiner.” You just stayed trapped between him and the washer, laundry long forgotten, relishing in the warmth inside of you and the feeling of his hand traveling up your side.

[help-i-need-a-cool-username]

Been Rewatching RWBY so have my JNPR Roommate HCs

The actual room situation

Pyrrha, Nora, and Ren are all only children. Nora and Ren grew up together but didnt have a sibling dynamic. Jaune is the third youngest child in a family of 8 children. It took Pyrrha the longest to adjust to roommates

In the beginning Jaune actually found it easier living with Pyrrha and Nora than with Ren, since he has 7 sisters

Nora and Ren have been together so long, it was less learning how to room with the opposite gender and more how to room with strangers

Beds were set up by partners and not gender. Nora and Ren set up first so Jaune and Pyrrha had to follow (looking in from the door from left to right it went Jaune's bed, Pyrrha's bed, the big gap, Nora's bed, Ren's bed)

Pyrrha handled it like a champ but she figured things would be a little more gender segregated. So she was surprised Nora set up in the bed next to Ren instead of her, and it took her a while to get used to changing in front of them (changing clothes in a lockerroom? Fine, because your wearing underwear. Changing your underwear? Thats a little different)

Everyone but Ren is messy. Theres clothes and objects everywhere. Half the time if you cant find your jacket in the first few seconds you just wear the one closest to you. Ren picks up after everyone but only when he feels like it

Nora can and will steal your clothes (and Pyrrha day dreams about stealing Jaune's... Nora offered to do it for her once and she almost said yes)

If you leave food unattended its fair game. Jaune has learned to hide his soda cans when he's not done with them and Pyrrha has a secret stash of granola bars

The Bathroom

Pyrrha had a lot of trouble adjusting to using the same bathroom. Jaune and Nora set up shop and just did whatever they wanted while Ren at least asked if he could put his stuff here or there.

Nora will barge into the bathroom when anyone is showering. Ren is used to it and Jaune only freaked out the first time (because he thought he would finally get SOME privacy once he moved out) but Pyrrha was not okay with it

Jaune usually knocks if someone is in the shower and he has to get in there (because these are his friends and not his sisters) but if he's half asleep he walks right in

Ren will walk right in if its Nora or Jaune

Eventually Pyrrha has to run in to do something. And after the fourth time just stops knocking

So in the end everyone ended up walking in on everyone else whenever they wanted to

Sometimes full on conversations happen with one person in the shower. Sometimes when Nora doesnt want to be alone she'll sit down and have a mostly one sided conversation with whoever is in there. Pyrrha gets really philosophical in the shower so conversations with her can get really deep.

They have a speaker in the bathroom. Everyone listens to music in the shower now. It started with Ren and Nora and then Jaune and Pyrrha picked up the habit

Two of them are musical nerds. I dont know which two yet. Feel like Nora is one of them

When Pyrrha thinks she's alone she'll sing in the shower

They are constantly forgetting to buy toilet paper. They'll buy the giant Costco sizes and then not know when they're out. They have to go borrow a roll from team RWBY when this happens. Ruby always forgets to buy toothpaste and JNPR always has way to much (again, Costco) so it all works out (Ruby and Yang share, Weiss wont share, and Blake uses sensitive teeth toothpaste)

Jaune sometimes uses the wrong toothbrush and just doesnt tell anybody

Ren uses other people's shampoo when he runs out. He's been using Pyrrha's for a month now

Laundry

Nora and Jaune always forget about the clothes in the dorm washer/dryer. Clothes have been down there for a week before

Nora and Ren hardly ever wash their sheets and it drives Jaune nuts

Most of the time they'll wash all their stuff together (ex. towels, training clothes), which no one else in their hall does (Yang will wash Ruby's clothes with hers but Blake think thats weird and Weiss with most of the students in the hall its a privacy thing. Pyrrha was like that but she got tired of running down to the laundry room to do a tiny load of clothes that she needed the next morning. If they all do it together they all take turns)

Ren likes folding clothes. Jaune, Nora, and Pyrrha dump everything in the basket before bringing it up but Ren will fold the clothes/sheets in the laundry room. Half the time Nora dumps her laundry on his bed and he folds it for her

Pyrrha hates sorting socks. Unlike Jaune and Nora she refuses to wear mismatching socks and therefore has to sort hers. She hates it

Pyrrha was the only one who didnt know how to do laundry before coming to Beacon

Downtime/the rest of the time

they'll all get together and watch a movie on someone's scroll. 4 people squashed together to watch something on a teeny tiny scroll

Everyone sitting on everyone else's beds (canon) evolves to sharing beds at night before bed or in the mornings

Jaune and Pyrrha are 6 feet tall with Ren close to it and they all have twin sized beds but they make the sharing work. Sometimes Nora and Ren will straight up sleep in the same bed

Nora likes to play with people's hair (canon?) so sometimes she does different types of braids in Pyrrha's at night while Pyrrha is on her scroll

[ironmandeficiency]

that’s not a shirt

pairing: marcus pike / reader

word count: 1584

summary: marcus comes home from work & finds the strangest thing in the laundry.

a/n: for @autumnleaves1991-blog and her wednesday writing challenge! writing domestic marcus pike is my therapy. unbeta’d and posted from mobile (honestly my laptop is becoming less convenient to post from even tho posting fic on tumblr is literally the reason i bought it last year)

three long, miserable weeks. that’s how long marcus has been out of town for a case that had him jetting all across the country, far away from you and your comfortable bed. he’s almost never at the apartment he pays rent for every month. most of his clothes and his favorite pillow are at your place, and the small quilt his grandmother sewed decades ago is draped over the back of your couch. in everything but name, he lived with you.

when he entered your apartment with his key, he took note of the fact you weren’t there and got set to cleaning up a bit. work leaves you exhausted more often than not and he doesn’t want to leave everything undone for you to worry about when you get home.

upon first glance, he could see the laundry was half done. a heaping load of clean clothes was in the hamper in front of the dryer and there were wet clothes in the open washer. when he looked further, there was also a load in the dryer, which told him that you stayed up late to get things done then fell asleep on the couch waiting for the dryer to finish. with a fond smile, he started the dryer for a few minutes to get wrinkles out of what’s in there. when those are done, he can get what’s in the hamper unwrinkled and hung and folded.

dinner was next on the to-do list. something nourishing to welcome you home after a long day but simple enough to do while catching up the clothes: spaghetti. there’s something about his mom’s recipe for the sauce that makes his spaghetti absolutely heavenly — your words, not his — and he can’t wait to see your reaction to having marcus home two days earlier than planned along with his best dish.

in the time it takes him to get the sauce cooking and the water boiling on the stove, the dryer announces that it’s finished with the first load. he hums as he folds the bath towels and dish rags without a care in the world, making the trip to stow them in the bathroom cabinet with a spring to his step.

checks the sauce for flavor and consistency before putting the second load of wrinkled clothes in the dryer, finding it needs just a smidge more rosemary before it can be left to simmer. picks another sprig from the plant you keep on the windowsill and cuts the leaves very fine before sprinkling them in with a flick of his wrist.

satisfied with his efforts, he turns back to the laundry. he dutifully empties the lint filter (you’re adamant on emptying it after every load and the trait passed onto him) before he begins to grab things to toss into the dryer. about a third of the way through the basket, his hand grabbed onto something weirdly solid and plump.

“mroww!”

last marcus checked, shirts don’t make noises like that. he tore his gaze from the inside of the dryer to the hamper to find a grey and white kitten lounging in the hamper. the little thing was nudging his hand with their head, clearly wanting the attention of the man slowly depleting its bed. he was perplexed. you didn’t have a cat when he was last here, but there was one seeming to be perfectly content in making itself at home in your apartment.

“where did you come from?” he knew the cat wasn’t going to give him a coherent answer but he felt the need to voice his confusion anyway. the first thing to do now: check to see if it’s male or female. it’s a female, looks to be about three months old and is perfectly content with being handled by marcus.

marcus can’t recall the last time he had a pet. with him being too busy with work, he never thought it would be fair to a pet to have an owner constantly gone. he didn’t have enough stability in the past with where he lived and didn’t want to only be a half ass pet parent. the past several months, however, have been nothing but stable. not counting the seldom out of town cases, he goes to work in the morning and comes home to you in the evening, and he rinses and repeats as needed. maybe this kitten is the perfect prelude to taking the next big step in his relationship with you.

for now though, marcus doesn’t let himself get carried away with his daydreams about living with you full time. he’s got laundry to finish and dinner to cook, and now he has a sous chef to accompany him. he holds the kitten to his chest, scratching her chin with a hooked finger and melting at the way she looks up as if telling him to keep going. “alright sweet girl, let’s finish up dinner.” a soft “mrrow!” is her reply and it makes marcus huff a quiet laugh.

dinner is completed with marcus using one less hand than normal, his sous chef being fabulous company. the few times he had to use both hands, his feline friend perched on his shoulder (which he thought was the best thing ever) and waited to be held again. however this cat got here, marcus didn’t know; the one thing he did know is that it wasn’t leaving anytime soon.

the front door was unlocked when you came home and you knew with absolute certainty that you locked it before you left. your walmart bags filled with cat supplies were immediately dropped to the hallway floor as you began to inspect your front door and the area around it. marcus taught you how to spot the basic signs of forced entry (like the protective sweetheart he is) and when none of them were there, you cautiously entered your apartment, mace in hand.

the adrenaline washed away when you spotted your loving boyfriend in the kitchen, gently bobbing his head along to whatever music he had playing. one hand was stirring a pot on the stove while the other was plenty preoccupied with the kitten. shit, you forgot to warn him about the kitten before he got home!

this was the last thing you thought would be here to greet you, but it was a very welcome sight; the feline was finicky and marcus wasn’t due home for another few days, a double whammy. “i see you’ve met the kitten.” you’re honestly just thankful he didn’t get upset about the little thing. neither of you have talked about pets or whatever your living situation is becoming, so the way he seems so taken with the kitten is a sign pointing in a great direction.

when he hears your voice, marcus visibly lights up. “hi honey!” the hand with the spoon immediately drops the wooden utensil into the pot and waves at you happily. “this is my sous chef, say hello, pasta!” he grabs one of her little paws and waves it at you before resuming his stirring, a beaming smile on his face.

did he really just name the cat pasta? and how in the world is she so calm with him right now?

you found the kitten, now known as pasta, huddled in a cardboard box beside a gas station dumpster headed home from work. she was mewling her little head off back there and you were lucky enough to hear her. taking her and her box, your list of things to do was thrown out the window as you rushed her to the vet. they cleaned her up real good and schedule her vaccinations, and sent you home with a list of supplies to buy and advice on how to take care of the little thing.

she was pissed at you after the vet trip. didn’t let you pet or hold her unless she was in the mood for it and if you tried to pick her up otherwise, she would scatter and give you a glare from a safe distance away. but here was marcus holding her like a baby, and the little brat was eating it up! to be fair, you were the same way with marcus when he was being affectionate so you didn’t completely blame her.

“why pasta?” you knew that cats were more likely than dogs to have strange names. you just didn’t think your boyfriend would be the type to give a cat a name like pasta. at that rate, you might as well name a dog goose and call it a day.

he smiles at the furball, giving her a few affectionate pets while he talks. “i was cooking spaghetti when i found her in the laundry hamper, and then i noticed a little spot right on her hip that looks like penne. i couldn’t choose between the two so i went for the middle ground. is that okay with you? or did she have another-”

“marcus, i love it.” and you really do; that sentimental dork just made you love the name pasta with nothing but two sentences. “and honestly, i’ve just been rotating between baby girl, squeak toy, and dumbass since i found her the day before yesterday.”

he scratches pasta under her chin as he laughs at the thought of you calling his sous chef a dumbass. “pasta is not a dumbass! you tell ‘em sweetheart, tell them how smart you are!”

“mroww!”

“see? she’ll be the next einstein.”

marcus pike taglist: @likeshootingstarsinthenightsky @obirain @themarcusmoreno @catsnkooks @torradoza @stardustsunrisekisses @darthadeline @max--phillips @jedi-mando @darklingveracruz @andysficrecs @pedropasscals @qhbr2013 @seasonschange-butpeopledont @greeneyedblondie44 @princess76179 @kaermorons @lv7867 @whovianwar @purelypascal

[skelingtonsderek]

Ok this is gonna be long and without form I just want to talk without worrying my friends about the hellish fucking time I've had this past 7 days.

Early last Tuesday the city I live in experienced the largest amount of rain it has in over a century. The smaller municipality I'm in delayed opening the sewer for so long that my street was under several feet of rain.

Behold

We got a little lucky in that the way houses were built in the neighborhood was a couple feet above street level. The water made it up to the top step of our porch. If the city waited any longer, if the rain had kept up, I'd be homeless, and have lost every single thing I owned.

Instead, I lost everything in the basement garage which had fully flooded from floor to ceiling. It wasn't much but it was enough. It was my washer dryer my water heater my air conditioner and it should have taken out my circuit breaker. It didn't and that's now full of water and living on a knife's edge and the other side of the knife is the house gets taken out in a fire instead of the flood

We are experiencing a heat wave. Which is not something that our area gets like this. Hot for here is 80. Very hot for here is 85. We've gotten up to 98 this past week.

With no ac. With no hot water. With no way to clean our sweaty disgusting clothes. With a land miser who texts everyday and promises this day is the day he'll get the restoration crew out to clear out the basement and make way for the brand new water heater and HVAC he's promised he's ordered.

7 fucking miserable days of having to constantly check how much water I've had, if I've eaten right, if despite my extra efforts if my medications have shoved me down the hill of heat exhaustion and dehydration anyway.

7 fucking days of managing 4 different fans and 2 mini swamp coolers to try to make my living space even remotely hospitable. It still reached 92 in there before some friends helped out and dropped off a portable air conditioner for us.

Oh right yeah. They had to drop it off because both mine and my partner's cars were totaled by the storm completely inoperable and towed off because they're nothing but scrap now. Trapped in a 90 degree apartment in one of the least pedestrian friendly cities I have ever been to

With TWO chronically ill disabled elderly cats who are too stupid to drink extra water when they're hot. Who suck at drinking water like we had to find a specific type of water fountain for them because they got more water on the floor and the top of their head than in their mouths.

One is arthritic, has kidney disease, and hyperthyroidism and JUST returned from the vet loaded up with NSAIDS, thyroid meds, and more arthritis medicine than the cat gods ever intended for a cat to have

The other is blind, diabetic, and so anxious that he gets scared by his own farts. Little guy couldn't find his way out of a paper bag with someone holding open the exit and trying to coach him out I wish I was joking

Have you ever tried to get a cat to do anything? Have you ever tried to give a cat a bath? How about periodically dipping their little arthritic paws into water you can't warm to a cool but not frigid temperature that isn't as distressing in order to help them cool down when it gets so warm you fear their tiny stupid hearts might give out?

It's been ice showers and constant noise and oven hot skin and chasing down elderly cats and calling insurance companies for cars and renters and chasing down gas company employees because there's a gas smell from my apparently illegally reignited water heater that my land miser should not have turned back on instead of replacing and constantly ordering food because I can't bare to cook and long days and longer nights because I can't sleep in the noise and the heat and the smell

The fucking smell of sewage and rain water and every basement and car and lawn and garbage can that got knocked over or floated down the road. The fucking smell. The constant smell of rot and wet and mold and shit and hot bodies. Hours and days and a fucking week of smells.

I was at my limit on day 2. I am so far beyond it that I feel gutted. I had groceries delivered a few days ago and the delivery driver said our neighborhood looked like the walking dead. I certainly feel like it. I just want it to stop.

[captainxsassafras]

Showered in Love

E voila! My first piece of filth (hopefully of many, regardless of how long it takes my dumb ass to write it!)! I have no excuses, no reason other than I just want to take care of one (1) beautiful, dumb birdbrain. In whatever way possible. But we all came here to be horny, so horny it is! 🤣🤣🤣

But seriously, I hope you enjoy this entirely self-indulgent smut! I tried to keep the reader pretty neutral physicaly and focus more on the feeling, but please let me know if you notice anything there I might have missed or that I could improve on! Ask or dm, just please be respectful and polite! I'm new so I'm sure I have ways I could improve and I'm open to editing/updating to make it more inclusive! 💗

Warnings: explicit, handjob, shower sex, very subby Keigo, nipple play, body worship (?), real tender smut, comfort sex

And here you go! Tagging some people who might be interested!

@queensynderella @heyitswhiplash @lovekeigo @keilemlucent @keiqos

It had been a hard day.

Not for you. Your day had been ordinary in every sense. Nothing alarming or even really exciting had interrupted the normal scheme of your work schedule. You had arrived home a bit tired, but in an innocuously pleasant mood and put an easy to make casserole in the oven before working on the various little chores that helped keep the apartment clean.

You had been in the middle of moving the laundry from the washer to the dryer when he’d come in.

He had used the window.

That wasn’t ominous by itself. He used the window more often than not. The large window with the spacious balcony had been a must have when the two of you had bought the place and was a much more frequent feature of take off than the intended front door to the place. You probably would have been more concerned if he’d actually used that door.

Ok, that wasn’t true. You were just making morbid mental jokes to ease your own tension.

You weren’t scared.

You were worried.

You were sad.

You were hurting.

Because… he was.

An anxious little ball was twisting knots in your stomach. Crinkles marked the edges of your eyes as you turned off the oven and stood at the counter, contemplating his arrival.

He didn’t call out to you when he came in.

That should have been the first clue.

Keigo always called out to you when he arrived home unless he knew you were already asleep. It amazed you that he was constantly excited to see you when he got home. The light in his eyes traveled across his entire voice and even lightened his voice, taking his normal boyish sarcasm and lifting it to almost child-like wonder. The happy way he greeted you made your heart dance like a butterfly every single time.

But he didn’t this time.

He’d surprised you. You’d nearly jumped out of your skin when he first walked by. Silent as a ghost, you’d only noticed the movement out of the very corner of your eye and adrenaline had shot through your veins. You whipped around into a low stance, ready to fight God and the universe if they were attacking you in your own home. But God was nowhere to be found.

Keigo had stood, frozen to the spot, looking at you with blank eyes and an uncomprehending expression. It felt like the world had stopped. Not in a figurative, emotional sense. He had just been so still that you weren’t sure the world hadn’t stopped with him. You stood, unmoving and waiting for Keigo to move. Say hello. Give you a hug. Anything.

He didn’t.

And you knew something was wrong.

“Kei,” you’d breathed, moving to rush over to him and engulf him in your arms.

“Dove.”

You stopped.

The strangled, heavy sound of his voice sent a shiver down your back even now. God, it grated on your heart. Simultaneously beaten by an unspeakable harshness and weighed down by all the abyssal truths you knew he carried like Atlas.

Without another word he’d passed by, red wings trailing on the floor behind him in evidence of his exhaustion. That was… different.

The click of the bathroom door closing had broke your heart to pieces.

The sound of the shower starting was normally soothing, but today it was just another layer to the tension that had swept into the apartment on crimson wings.

And now he had been in there for twenty minutes.

Keigo was not a long shower person. Didn’t like wasting water. Which was a convenient excuse to shower together, but also how he really felt about it. He was just too impatient and showering wasn’t one of those things he liked to devote his sparse time to.

But he was still in there.

With pursed lips, you took the casserole from the oven and found a spot in the fridge. Another night. The dryer was started and before you could let the hurt surrounding Keigo scare you off, you went to him.

The bathroom door opened noiselessly to your touch. A waft of steam wet your face and you could feel the intense heat of the room within seconds. A purring, mechanic whirr from the fan masked the sound of the door closing, but you were sure Keigo knew you were in there. His feathers wouldn’t have missed the vibrations of the door, even dampened by the buffer of the water.

You were quiet as you undressed. Eyeing his clothes piled randomly across the floor, you went to the cabinet in the corner and brought out something you’d been saving for a treat. Tender eyes flicked to Keigo.

A spike of worry knotted your chest.

He hadn’t moved since you’d entered the bathroom.

He was just standing, water colliding with his bare skin and streaming down his frame to join the small pool at his feet. You wished you could fully appreciate the sight of his naked body. You wished you felt better about being able to see drop after drop caress every plane and curve of his skin. He was so gorgeous.

But your heart wasn’t in the heated looks you wanted to send.

You entered the shower slowly, taking care not to slip on slick tiles. The extra treat was deposited on the shelf full of soap, shampoo, and other hygiene products.

He was so warm as you slipped your arms around his torso and molded your body into the curve of his back. Your hands clasped, pulling him close. And for a moment you just stood, as close physically as you possibly could be. It didn’t feel like enough. His mind was far away still, lost in the echoes of some terrible, terrible secret he could never tell you. Soft cadences of breathe left you drowning in the feeling of him, letting your mind drift away from the thoughts of those secrets and bringing your own worries back to the very real man held so closely before you.

Keigo often complained about his lack of height and how he wished he had more back muscle, but you loved the lean, corded muscles. They were perfect to you. You also loved the fact that you could lay your head perfectly into the curve at the back of his neck and murmur into his ear.

“Hey there, feathers.”

He pooled into your touch and the tension drained away with those wandering rivulets of water. It wasn’t completely gone but the edge was softened. It was a butter knife now, useful but it wasn’t going to cut you for getting too close.

“Dooove.”

This time, when his voice came out strangled it was less… heartbreaking.

“Yes, love?”

No answer. Maybe he needed a bit of help.

“Do you need something.”

A single, slow nod.

You breathed into the feel of him. “Do you need me to take care of you?”

Oh god. The tiniest, strangled whimper kissed your ears as Keigo nodded again, leaning back into your frame. The shower-wet feathers of his wings pressed themselves into your body. You could feel them against every warm, vulnerable inch of flesh. A quick shift left your wandering fingers trailing downward across his abdomen dangerously. Feathers ruffling against your body had you biting your lip and holding back a moan. Those fingers found the wet, curled hairs that framed his groin and the moan ripped free, settling on the weight of anticipation. The feathers on his wings positively shivered while you traced the tight swoops of those golden curls. You knew them well, but still loved twirling your hands through them. A bit more wiry than the hair on his head, they were still surprisingly soft and springy. Keigo assured you he loved your own curls, but the downy feel of his never ceased to make you the slightest bit jealous.

Wet flashes of red spun out the corners of your eyes as his wings shuddered and shifted against the onslaught of your hands teasing through Keigo’s hair. He cried out as your left hand reached up to card through the wet hair on his head. You matched the twirling of each hand, one at his brow and one at his groin and groaned loudly into the crook of his neck. His feathers were dancing against your skin.

Fortunately, you weren’t the only one making noise.

Pain mixed with pleasure as you kneaded your bottom lip. You reveled in the sweet, sweet noises that left Keigo’s throat with each tender swirl of your hand. They were soft, high, and so very needy. So very perfect.

“Keigo.” You placed gentle kisses into the space behind his ear. “I’m here to help, to take care of you. But I need to know what you need.” More kisses. “Do you want me to wrap you up in a blanket and feed you your favorite food? Or do you need to fuck this out?”

A moan escaped that was dangerously close to a whine.

“Ohhh, I love it when you cry for me, babe. But I need your words right now.”

“Fucking.” His words were full of heat and light with breathlessness.

“Ok, love. What kind? Fuck me senseless?” You paused, waiting for a reaction. Nothing notable. Your tongue found your lips as you considered your next words and the actions they might lead to. “Do I need to take care of my good boy?”

He went still. The sound that echoed across the empty bathroom tiles was the stuff of fantasy. You felt yourself clench and knew at that moment exactly what he needed.

“Mm, ok.” You moved away and delighted in the way Keigo’s entire body followed, trying to sink back into your hold. “I’ve got you. Let me take care of you, love.”

And he stayed where he was, so still you couldn’t believe it save for the heaving of his chest and nearly imperceptible trembling of his wings. You placed a kiss to the edge of his feathers and reached blindly behind you to grab the treat from before.

He sighed into the contact.

It wasn’t anything quite that special. Just a body wash that you knew Keigo particularly liked. The smell always had him burying his head in whatever piece of skin was available, to fold himself in the scent. It had been backordered for several months and you’d gotten your hands on it as a surprise for your lover. You’d planned to bring it out on some sort of special, happy day, but today it seemed like the perfect little surprise to pamper him with.

Covering your hands with the gel, you encompassed him again and started with washing his shoulders. Gentle hands smoothed over hot skin and worked at the tight muscles.

A gasp ran through his body when the smell reached him.

“Dove, you’re spoiling me.”

Hands slid to his back, carefully avoiding the sodden wings. Those got a special treatment and didn’t take well to body wash. Not friends with the mundane, human hygiene products.

“And?” You nearly sang. His tight ass was next and you knelt behind him to take your time carefully washing down each leg. Every curve and crevice was gently attended to. He whined as you swept your hands within touch of each area he wanted you to stroke most. Naturally, you pulled away as soon as it seemed like you might actually touch him there. Deep melodious laughter filled the spaces between his high, endless keening. You could tell the moment he felt your breath smoothing over the supple curve of his ass. The resounding whines cut off abruptly and the intense, broad heaves of his chest quickened and almost fluttered.

You hovered.

He stopped breathing entirely.

You began to stand and as you did, you placed a sweet, yet scorching kiss to the soft plane of each beautiful, taut, trembling ass cheek.

That earned you a whiny, desperate laugh. The chuckle choked off as soon as you melded into his body again, hands sliding around to cup his pecs.

You breathed into his ear and with each gentle word, your hands swept across his chest in ever tightening circles, slowly closing in on the sweet little jewels at the center. “If I’m taking care of you, it’s my job to spoil you. Don’t you think?” Tender fingers found his nipples, already pert and ready, and rolled the little buds in soapy circles.

His moans strangled and stuttered. Grasping hands reached back, clawing at something, anything, to hold to. He needed an anchor. He needed grounding in the midst of every bit of mind-numbing pleasure roiling and writhing through his weary nerves. He found your hips and clung like a man drowning, gasping for air and up to his head in a river of luxuriant ecstasy. He never wanted to surface again. He would drown in this flood of euphoria if you’d let him.

You slowed with his nipples when you felt his hips begin to make messy, haphazard, not-quite thrusts into thin air.

You knew without a doubt that your beautiful bird could and would cum right here without a single bit of direct stimulation to his cock. He was so worked up, you could see clearly in your mind the moment he’d burst, spreading hot cum all over from just the endless, maddening rolling of his nipples. It made you clench and squeeze like mad just to think of it.

But that wasn’t quite what you wanted. And you could tell it wasn’t quite what Keigo needed. Ok, you thought it wasn’t the right thing for him, but you felt like you had a pretty good grip on what this wonderful man needed at the moment. And he had put his trust in you. He had given over to you the gift of taking care of him. He had surrendered the responsibility of deciding himself what he needed and given that to you. You would never betray that trust by doing something you didn’t think was to his direct and utmost benefit. Or to his highest pleasure.

Your boy trusted you and you were going to take care of him thoroughly.

Previous conversations and past experience had revealed that, while the nipple orgasms were overwhelming and utterly consumed him with rolling, trembling waves pleasure, they weren’t as wholly sating as direct stimulation. They left him boneless and weak, but not finished.

You wanted him absolutely wrung out.

Those half thrusts quickened and you left his nipples alone.

He was too overwhelmed to even complain.

“Good boy.” Wandering hands ventured south. “My sweet, wonderful good boy.”

His head lolled back and wings twitched weakly at the feeling of your fingers in his curls again. However, you didn’t linger in those cute little whirls of hair for long. You had a prize to find.

And find it you did.

He was so hard you couldn’t help but bite your lip in excitement. Deep, reaching breaths wracked his torso as your hands moved down his cock at a torturous pace. As it was, several seconds passes before you found your way to the very tip. God, he was leaking. Mapping out the contours of his gorgeous, aching cock, you felt around the head and spent the time to rub at the slit as slowly as possible. Back and forth, over and over, relishing the tiny, twitchy thrusts that accompanied the motion.

A long, shaky, drawn-out whine from Keigo filled your head and you nearly lost it as the feeling of a fresh spurt of precum met your thumb.

“Oh, oh. My precious, precious boy. You like that so much, don’t you?”

“Yee-eeees!” Without warning, his hips canted forward just the slightest creating friction across the tip.

Oh, that was enough. He was ready to burst and deserved the reward of a full-force orgasm. What a magnificent, wonderful man. And he was all yours to equally ruin and cherish with each maddening stroke.

Without warning, you began the move your hands up and down the length of his cock.

Keigo’s reaction was instant. The long, never-ending whines raised in pitch and shortened, creating a rhythm in time with your stroking. His breathing became chaotic, devolving into a staccato mess of sharp, desperate gasps and bone-deep, shuddering exhales that reached into your core and drove you wild. And through it all, his wings pitched in erratic, arrhythmic twitches he couldn’t even begin to control. Starting at the top, where you nibbled and teased the sensitive skin connecting back to wing, they ruffled and writhed in waves all the way down to the feathers at the very tips.

It was a wonder to watch, but your attention was soon drawn back to his face. You could only see the edges standing behind him, but you knew your bird and you knew what he looked like when he was lost like this. His faces were rapturous. Brow scrunched, eyebrows tilted up. If his eyes were open, they’d be lifted skyward like he was praying to some unknown god of divine ecstasy. If they were closed, the corners would be crinkled. Every now and then, they’d crinkle even more, squeezing tight as he was undone by his own body. His head was angled back, leaning against your shoulder. He was too encompassed by the feel of your hands on his cock to keep his head up. But that was ok. More than ok. He didn’t need to keep himself up. That’s what you were here for.

His mouth was hanging open. That you could see. Soft, lush lips slack and loosing the melodic aria of fucked out whines to cascade around you like a filthy sonnet.

Those adorable, overwhelmed whines reverberated through Keigo and into your frame, consuming your mind with the sensuous joy of utterly ruining the gorgeous man leaning against you. The one struggling not to fuck himself into your hands. He was so good.

“C’mon, big boy, move for me.”

And he did, like the perfect man he was.

God, you loved to see him fuck himself senseless into your hands. You loved seeing him drive himself to that ultimate high while you got to coo praise into his ear and feel the way he throbbed and thrust with each tender, adoring word.

One of your hands left his dick and returned to torture his nipple.

God, you almost came right there.

Everything synced.

The stroking of your hand across the length of his aching cock, the squeezing of his sensitive, budded nipple, the endless, rasping circle of reaching breaths. The instant your hand found that pretty little bud, the thrusting of his hips shifted into a circular, full torso roll. They undulated in an involuntary, uninhibited dance of fucked out delirium. And the uncontrolled twitching of his wings changed to match, exactly, the rhythm of his hips. They beat in overwhelmed circles perfectly in sync with the smooth, svelte, seeking roll of Keigo’s hips into the tight grip of your hand.

And then he was lost.

He shattered. He was consumed.

A thousand pieces of brilliant, fiery, piercing pleasure shot through him and wrapped around his very center. A glorious flood overtook his senses and it was all he could do to stay upright with each roiling wave stronger than the last. Hot, white cum shot out and coated the shower wall and floor, rope after rope arcing with the crest of each radiant spike of pleasure.

As for you?

You came almost in unison, the orgasm a pleasant surprise. When Keigo came, his wings went utterly wild; shivering, shaking, twisting, ruffling, writhing. The sudden friction of unexpected stimulation combined with the height of desire you achieved from driving Keigo to Nirvana pushed you over that knife’s edge into a slow, deep, yet surprisingly powerful orgasm.

And there the two of you were, both glued to each other, hips undulating in a carnal dance of mind-numbing orgasm until finally, finally the two of you slowly began the careful descent from bliss. You buried your face in his neck and focused on the sensual feeling of two bodies moving against each other, labored breaths adding extra friction in the aftermath. Warm, milky cum gushed over your hand. Keigo’s cock was still oozing and his hips still jerking in tiny, uncoordinated rolls.

Humming into his skin, you relaxed into the cool down. That was so fucking sexy.

You let go of his softening dick before he could accidentally overstim himself. Not tonight.

However, you couldn’t help but keep your hand on his nipple, twisting and peeking down to see how his hips jolted weakly with each tweak of the perky bud.

You clenched as you caught sight of his softened cock spurting little bursts of seed with each tweak.

After a minute or so, you let up. It was time to let him come down.

But you didn’t let go of him. Instead you wrapped your hands tight around him, reveling in the feel of his breath slowing. A final, deep, shuddering exhale had him leaning back against you, completely boneless in your tender arms.

“Dove.” Keigo’s head turned and he leaned his forehead against yours. “Thank you,” he breathed against your skin.

“Mmm, don’t mention it.” Tired arms squeezed a little tighter in their embrace. “You all good? Or do you need to be fucked up a little bit more?”

His chuckle danced through both of your bodies. “I’m good, lovebird. You got me real good.” He wiggled around to face you. It was his turn to circle you in his arms, pull you close, bask in the way you molded to his body, melting into his hold. He kissed your hair and the two of your stayed that way for a while, spent and sated and utterly content together.

Keigo broke your silence, low voice weaving through the sound of the shower and caressing your ears.

“You know what I am good for though?” He paused, but didn’t wait for a real response. Which was good, because you hadn’t planned on anything beyond a wordless grunt. “You, me, some delivery, no clothes, and the fluffiest blankets we own.”

You hummed into his neck.

“Lights down low, we eat some food, then we snuggle together as close as two people can without fucking.”

A peal of laughter caught the tired edges of your voice. “Ah, you almost made that sweet.”

He spluttered. “That was super sweet!”

“Almost.”

“Entirely.”

“Mmm.” You dipped your head without warning and took his sensitive nipple into your mouth, pulling at it lightly with your teeth.

Keigo’s entire body spasmed, still sensitive in the wake of his earlier orgasm. His dick twitched against your torso as he groaned deep down inside his throat.

“Careful, babybird, or I’ll ruin you again.”

He whined at the pet name and crushed your body even closer.

Looks like he wasn’t as fucked out as he thought.

Your lips twitched in a small smile as you grabbed his ass, pulling him almost unbearably tight against you, and continued teasing his nipple with your teeth. Grinding slowly on his hardening cock, you drowned yourself in the sublime sound of his resounding moans.