clothes on a clothesline


“(y/n).” You turn around at the sound of Jack’s familiar voice, immediately putting the clothes you were hanging on the clothesline back into their basket.

“Hi, Jack,” you smile. “Romeo, Crutchie.” You nod to each in turn. “What can I do for you?”

Romeo grins and steps closer to you. “The question is: What can I do for you, sweetheart?”

You roll your eyes and reach down, picking up the clothes basket. Then you shove it into the younger boy’s arms. “You can finish hanging these clothes.” The flirt’s smile falls, but yours doesn’t. “Thank you, Romeo.”

Jack and Crutchie snicker as their brother gets to work. “Seriously though, what are you doing here? Boys aren’t allowed here after dark, and it’s nearly dusk.”

“We’s organizing a strike!” Crutchie exclaims, rocking on his good foot as he grins.

Your face falls. “You’re what?”

Jack catches sight of your worried expression, and he taps his friends shoulder. “Hey, Crutch, why don’t you go help Romeo for a second, huh?”

The boy goes without a complaint, and you smile. Crutchie has a heart of gold. Jack pulls you slightly away so you’re just out of earshot of the two other Newsies.

“Pulitzer raised the price of papes,” Jack starts.

“Yeah, I know, I heard,” you reply. “But are you sure this is something to go on Strike for? Did you try to-”

“Reason with him?” Jack finishes for you. “Yeah, we did. Old man wouldn’t even see us. So yes, we’re going on Strike.”

Despite your worry, you nod. “Alright. So why are you here?”

Jack grins. “What, I need to have a reason to see my best girl?”

You blush. “No, but you do need a reason to bring your friends.”

He nods. “Alright, ya got me there.”

You brush your hand against his, but don’t take it. As much as you’d like to. If one of the other girls saw you, you’d be kicked out of the factory’s lodging house and onto the street. “So what is it?”

He takes off his hat like he does when he’s nervous, and blows on his hands. “I need to know you and the other factory girls are with us.”

“I don’t understand.”

“This Strike goes beyond just us newsies. This is about all of us; about all da kids that gotta work for a living too young, and never even got a chance ta do anything else. Especially when their work isn’t even fair.” He takes a step closer. “So, if it comes down to it, I need to know that you’re with us.”

“Well, you know him with you.” You smile, and he smiles back. “And I know some other workers that will be, and that will be able to talk others up. I’ll go around to some other factories too.”

Jack takes your hand, and you let him. “You know you’re amazing, right?”

You smile. “I try.”

“Laundry’s done!” Romeo yells, and Jack lets go of your hand quickly. He and Crutchie walk back up to the both of you. “We got an answer?”

You nod at him. “I’m with you. And I’ll do my best to make sure others are too.”

They all smile. “Let’s go, then! We still gotta go ta Brooklyn,” Crutchie smiles and hobbles quickly back to the main street.

Your eyes widen and you ask: “Brooklyn?”

“Yeah,” Jack breathes, rubbing the back of his neck. “We gotta see what Spot Conlon says.”

“Yay…” Romeo growls, trailing after Crutchie slowly.

You take Jack’s arm. “Brooklyn ain’t a good place, Jack.”

“I know, but luckily the King of Brooklyn and I are buddies. I’ll be fine.”

You sigh. “Alright. Now get going, so you’re home at a good time.”

Romeo grins. “Yes, mom.” Ignoring him, you wrap your arms around yourself as they leave.

“Boys!” They all turn around, and you wave half-heartedly. “Be careful tomorrow.”

Perfect Life

Peter Pevensie x reader

Anon request

Word Count: 3883

Warnings: ANGST (You really have to understand the story to get the end)

A/N: Would you look at that? I actually got something ready to post! I do have a second part in the works for this, but don’t expect it to make the angst better. Hope you like it! Let me know what you think!

Originally posted by writingissatansworstnightmare

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Short Story: Nick’s Day Out

It was her birthday.

Funny how he could never remember much else about her, but he remembered her birthday. It wasn’t like Nick, either, to remember a date more than a face. Old Nick prided himself on being able to read people, to pick up on the social nuances and micro expressions that gave so much away. Now, an appointment, an anniversary - those always slipped his mind. But he never forgot a face.

Except hers.

The synth clutched his bag of caps, the fabric threatening to tear beneath the harsh metal of his claw. Normally, he didn’t mind haggling. Myrna gave him a hard time, but the other merchants were friendly enough, and it was nice to get out and about in between cases.

Today, though. Today they’d ask questions he wasn’t sure he wanted to answer.

Gotta hold it together, old man.

The detective clenched what counted for his jaw and shuffled into the marketplace, hands stuffed in the pockets of his trenchcoat, hat pulled low over his brow. Myrna looked up with a menacing glower. 

“Bouquet, please,” he murmured.

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Family // inukag fanfic

INUKAG WEEK DAY 4: FAMILY  | @inukag-week

I am so excited for this!! This is probably my favourite thing I have ever written. Is it possible to be in love with your own work?? Anyway enjoy! :~) 

Inuyasha felt his eyelids warm, the morning light dazzling through onto his side of the bed. The sleepy boy now understood why Kagome wanted to trade sides of the bed the week before, the past week had been full of rain and overcast skies but the half demon was not prepared for the blast of light and heat at the crack of dawn. He made two little golden slits just enough to look out of the window. It was a gorgeous day, the sky was a perfect shade of blue and he knew that he had to take advantage of the day. He rolled onto his other side his eye’s now fully open as he watched his beautiful Kagome sleeping soundly. Her chest rose and fell ever so gently and her hair was everywhere. With a gentle touch Inuyasha cautiously removed the hair covering her face.  Inuyasha loved to watch her sleep, her face soft and not filled with worry as it usually was. He also noticed that after she stopped talking about ‘tests’ and the need to study that she was a lot more relaxed and not on edge like she was a little over three years ago.

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You Scared of Me Now, Babydoll? (Part 8)

Pairing: Negan x Reader

Summary: Tensions rise between you and the wives when they discover your night with Negan. Sherry confides in you with a secret.

Word Count: 1,755

Warning(s): Language

A/N: SO sorry for the delay on this. Writer’s block and being busy with college haven’t been mixing well for me. Masterlist here. Enjoy!

Originally posted by carlschandler

You reached your arm out to the space in the bed next to you. It was cold and empty of course, but that didn’t surprise you. You sat up slowly, stretching your arms into the air and letting out a deep yawn.

You had never expected things to end up like they had last night, but you felt glad that they did. Having a night of passion with Negan made you feel like a totally different person. You certainly felt more relaxed and you really couldn’t have cared less about those feelings for Rick that were slowly resurfacing.

Last night made you feel wanted again…in some strange way. You knew you were just another one of Negan’s wives, but knowing that maybe you were worth more than just a valuable asset to the Saviors was a good feeling.

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i’m sure that you heard by now;
there is no more sun.
it rains each night
and it is still dark by morning.
it is easy to peel the moon
from your back when
you cannot be burned.
i’m sure you understand by now
that you have lost your love
and she lies instead with
pomegranates, on a bed of copper
searing to the touch.
it is comforting to know
that she can’t be burned;
the sun will return
and we will not be ready.
i have dreams of bushes
covered in thorns,
nettles underfoot,
dark nights where the growth
turns black and the forest rots.
i sleep in a nest of my own making–
cloth torn from the clothesline,
down from the bird
in the branches. the day is dark
and my mouth is open,
waiting for rain. i stand
beneath black leaves and pray
for water, watching
condensation burn up.
she sleeps in the hollow
of the oldest tree
and the sun glows like a coal
under my tongue.

First Kiss/Last Kiss - Cassian Andor

You would like to think that your first kiss with Cassian was romantic and electric and everything you’d ever dreamed it would be an more—and, in its own special way, you guessed it was—but not in the conventional sense. No flowers. No candles. No soft “I love you” whispered breathlessly between hot and heavy connections.

You were on an undercover mission on Iytis attempting to learn why the Empire had taken sudden control of the tropical planet. For the majority of the time, it had been a relatively easy mission—you and Cassian blended in well, and most people assumed you were a couple on a romantic getaway, so they left you alone well enough. You were able to glean that the Empire had started drilling on one of the planet’s poles, but for what, none of the locals knew. Eventually, though, things started to get rocky.

You had told Cassian that it felt like you were there too long—three weeks was much too long for any normal vacation—but he had bushed it off as you being paranoid, saying that you needed more information before you returned to the Rebel Alliance. Shortly after, you noticed that when the two of you went out, locals followed you at a fair distance. Sometimes, instead of locals, it was stormtroopers following you around, which concerned you greatly.

That’s when the rumors had started to fly around. Supposedly, an entire squadron of rebel spies had infiltrated the planet with the intention of blowing it up, civilians and all. You were flattered that they thought you and Cassian good enough to be considered an entire squadron, but obviously they had your motives completely wrong.

Because the citizens of Iytis were getting nervous, the stormtroopers had started doing random searches. They stopped people in the streets asking for identification papers or barged into homes and businesses to conduct raids looking for the squadron of Rebels. That’s when you and Cassian had been cornered.

You had felt like you were being followed for a while as you and Cassian walked throughout the city, browsing the market and buying some of the local fruit. When you got the opportunity to glance behind you, though, nothing was out of the ordinary, so when you saw an entire unit of troopers headed your way down the street, you and Cassian ducked into an alleyway immediately. You followed your partner as he weaved his way through the city, grabbing pieces of clothing randomly from clotheslines as he went and changing his outerwear; you did the same.

At last you thought you were safe—you were on the opposite side of the city—but the unit of stormtroopers were still coming. They couldn’t still be following you, could they?

“Kiss me,” you suggested, grabbing Cassian’s hand and forcing him to stop moving. He raised an eyebrow inquisitively but said nothing. The stormtroopers were half a block away now. “Don’t give me that look. This is a destination planet. We’ve seen people kissing all over the place. They won’t think anything of it, and they won’t see our faces. Now kiss me.”

Without another word or confirmation from Cassian, you grabbed his shirt collar and pulled him to you, crashing his lips onto yours. He responded just as the stormtroopers got close enough to get a good look at you. His arm snaked around your waist, pulling you in closer to him, while he cupped your face with his other hand. One of your hands had tangled itself in his soft hair. The other rested gently on his chest. To the passing Imperial soldiers, you looked just like any other tourist couple making out on one of the most romantic planets in the galaxy. They passed without incident.

When they had rounded the corner, Cassian pulled away from you and said nothing. You two didn’t speak of that day or the kiss for weeks—until one day, he cornered you in the hallways near the barracks and asked you out officially.

Your last kiss with Cassian was quick and desperate. You cornered him in the hangar just before he took a squadron of rebel fighters into the hands of the Empire on Skarif. You didn’t want him to go, but you knew there was no arguing with him. Cassian loved you, you knew that. But he loved the Rebellion more, and up until now, you had accepted it. Now, though, there was a very high chance that he wasn’t going to come back and you had no choice but to sit back and watch him go.

At first, neither of you said anything. You didn’t know what to say to him. ‘I love you, don’t go’ seemed too cliché and you forbid yourself from saying goodbye. In all your time with Cassian—nearly five years by that point—you refused to say goodbye when you parted ways. Goodbye seemed too permanent. But now… The silence seemed to strangle you as your mind raced through all the possibilities, many of which resulted in you never seeing Cassian again. You could feel your eyes begin to water, but you held it back. You would not cry. Not now.

Seeing you struggling, Cassian pulled you into a tight hug, allowing you to bury your face in his neck while he whispered in your ear. “We will not be gone long, my love,” he said, rubbing your back gently. “As soon as we have the plans, I will return to you.” He pulled away from you just far enough so that he could see your face. “I promise you that I will return.”

It was then that he pulled you back to him, this time, your lips connecting. You clung to him as if you needed him to survive, wrapping your arms around his back and pulling him in to you. Your lips moved together greedily and you savored in the taste of his lips.

“We should be going,” Kaytoo said impatiently from behind you.

You pulled away from Cassian and once again, he enveloped you in a tight hug. His jacket smelled of gasoline and grease and wood and smoke. “I love you.” His voice was soft, his words meant only for you to hear. “I will always love you.” With that, he kissed the top of your head gently and pulled away. Tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear, he said, “This will not be goodbye. I promise you.”

“I love you.” You smiled gently at him. “See you when you get back.”

Cassian kissed your forehead one last time and went to Kaytoo’s side. You waved at them as they boarded the ship, continuing long after they had exited the launch bay.

That was the last time you saw either of them alive.

mostly-naruto-deactivated201509  asked:

HI!! OH WOW, OH MY GOSH YOUR ART IS SO SO SOSOSOSOSOSO A.M.A.Z.I.N.G!!!! You have incredible talent! oh how i envy you... hahaha uhm this is probably gonna sound REALLY weird but y'know when you draw clothes, HOW DO YOU KNOW WHERE TO PUT CREASES/WRINKLES??? I HAVE BEEN TRYING TO PERFECT THE SKILL FOR SUCH A LONG TIME BUT IT NEVER EVER WORKS!! Sorry if i wasted your time *blushes* BUT YEAH YOUR ART IS GREAT *0*

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That One Shirt [Newt x Reader]

Author’s Note: This is the first thing I’ve written in like… a long time. I don’t even remember if I wrote at all this summer now that I think about it. It was one of the last things on my mind. But I didn’t have much homework today so that’s why I wrote this. I’m still warming up to writing again. It feels kind of weird. Hopefully this is decent though! This was just something fun and silly to get back into the swing of things. 

It’s based off an imagine by (Link to actual imagine:

Word Count: 1,101 (darn! so close to 1,100!)

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camp counselor au
  • you were the new counselor who doesn’t know about that we always have one counselor hide in the bushes in a scary mask and make rustling noises during the ghost stories and actually got scared and now i have to comfort you while wearing this costume
  • we’re up on watch to make sure the kids don’t sneak into each others tents 
  • there’s a lightning storm and the kids are all surprisingly calm but you’re freaking out i think we should hold hands it will help
  • one of the kids stole my sleeping bag and is using it as a pillow i guess we have to share
  • we have rival camp groups and my group is totally gonna kick your group’s ass in the talent show
  • you didn’t realize you pitched the tent on a slope and during the night you rolled on top of me and now we’re spooning
  • you didn’t stake down the tent properly and while going inside to change the wind really picked up and now i have to rescue your naked self rolling down the trail in the tent
  • i am the holder of the last bar of chocolate and you haven’t had candy for a week
  • it is way too hot and the kids are all asleep it’s time for midnight skinny dipping
  • on my day off was hanging all my clothes out to dry on the clothesline and figured you and another counselor took all the kids on a hike but you came back early just in time to see a bear steal my underwear and me naked trying to figure out what to do (they were my last good pair)
  • i’m jealous because you keep flirting with the firefighters who came to do the fire safety talk with the kids
  • tick check
Season 11 production

Block 2 Day 7/15 - Day 22 overall (6.8.17):

8:00am: Day 7 of 15 - BLOCK 2 (eps 1103 & 1104) has begun. 6 exterior scenes, all from 1103 to be shot. Sunrise was at 5:23am.

Animals on set today include horses and steers. Lots of action happening. Tim, Caleb and Jade are in every scene.

There’s respect between these 2, but they do go at it as well. You could probably substitute any guy for Caleb & that’d be true.

Another day with double digit background performers (or extras as they are also known). Barely, as 10 is as low dbl digit can be.

Unrelated to today’s scenes; an observation: seeing children’s clothes drying on a clothesline gives 1 a warm feeling, no?

When there’s lots of animal action production sometimes uses three cameras to aid in continuity. That’s happening today.

Day is done. Good thing too cause there are some dark grey clouds heavily laden with rain & it’ll be coming down in an hour or so.       


Okay, okay, so, let’s break this down.  The water tower has been moved to fill the hole Peridot smashed in the side of the barn.  It’s now hooked up not only to the pool, which has a pool ladder in it, but to something inside, and is also being used to dry clothes which means they’ve been putting on clothes

the other end of the clothesline is attached to some…strange monstrosity (seriously what are those wings made of and why is it topped with a scythe).  On the roof is a cushion for chilling out.  On the ground is a tent with a Camp Pining Hearts flag, presumably because Peridot wanted to try out that whole camping thing, and I’m not sure whether my favorite bit is that Peridot put the alien plush head on the wall with a pair of antlers or the currently in-use TV-watching nook where they’re watching TV together

Dead in the Water - Part 1

Word Count: 2409

Pairing: Eventual Dean x Reader

Warnings: Drowning, Language. I think that’s it.

Tagging: @aprofoundbondwithdean @letsgetoutalive @pb-5minutefanfiction @blacktithe7 @desiringspnimagines  @spnfanficpond if you wanna be tagged or don’t wanna be tagged let me know! 

Series Rewrite Masterlist

Dean and you were sitting in a diner next to your motel eating breakfast and searching for possible cases. You both had left early, leaving Sam still asleep in the motel. Your eyes were swimming staring at the newspaper, you weren’t’ even truly reading it anymore. You ran your hand down your face. “So…” Dean broke the silence. “How you’d you sleep last night?” 

“Didn’t.” you replied. 

“That’s what I figured.” Dean sighed, and went back to reading his newspaper. You had really expected an argument; you were shocked he hadn’t started one. “Hey. Check this out.” He said, spinning the newspaper around and pointing at an obituary he circled.

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rainaulthouse  asked:


Barry hung his clothes up on the makeshaft clothesline​ he’d built over the fire. He sat next to Linda to see her shivering. After their raft had flipped and they’d washed up on shore, they had to make due. Their clothes had to dry because keeping them on would make them colder.

Barry looked over at Linda, worried for her. He didn’t want her to get sick. He scooted a little closer and wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. “So much for a fun camping trip, huh?” He joked. “All of our clothes are soaked.” He smiled at her, trying to lighten the mood.

“Wash the white clothes on Monday and put them on the stone heap; wash the color clothes on Tuesday and put them on the clothesline to dry; don’t walk bare-head in the hot sun; cook pumpkin fritters in very hot sweet oil; soak your little cloths right after you take them off; when buying cotton to make yourself a nice blouse, be sure that it doesn’t have gum in it, because that way it won’t hold up well after a wash; soak salt fish overnight before you cook it; is it true that you sing benna in Sunday school?; always eat your food in such a way that it won’t turn someone else’s stomach; on Sundays try to walk like a lady and not like the slut you are so bent on becoming; don’t sing benna in Sunday school; you mustn’t speak to wharf-rat boys, not even to give directions; don’t eat fruits on the street—flies will follow you; but I don’t sing benna on Sundays at all and never in Sunday school; this is how to sew on a button; this is how to make a buttonhole for the button you have just sewed on; this is how to hem a dress when you see the hem coming down and so to prevent yourself from looking like the slut I know you are so bent on becoming; this is how you iron your father’s khaki shirt so that it doesn’t have a crease; this is how you iron your father’s khaki pants so that they don’t have a crease; this is how you grow okra—far from the house, because okra tree harbors red ants; when you are growing dasheen, make sure it gets plenty of water or else it makes your throat itch when you are eating it; this is how you sweep a corner; this is how you sweep a whole house; this is how you sweep a yard; this is how you smile to someone you don’t like too much; this is how you smile to someone you don’t like at all; this is how you smile to someone you like completely; this is how you set a table for tea; this is how you set a table for dinner; this is how you set a table for dinner with an important guest; this is how you set a table for lunch; this is how you set a table for breakfast; this is how to behave in the presence of men who don’t know you very well, and this way they won’t recognize immediately the slut I have warned you against becoming; be sure to wash every day, even if it is with your own spit; don’t squat down to play marbles—you are not a boy, you know; don’t pick people’s flowers—you might catch something; don’t throw stones at blackbirds, because it might not be a blackbird at all; this is how to make a bread pudding; this is how to make doukona; this is how to make pepper pot; this is how to make a good medicine for a cold; this is how to make a good medicine to throw away a child before it even becomes a child; this is how to catch a fish; this is how to throw back a fish you don’t like, and that way something bad won’t fall on you; this is how to bully a man; this is how a man bullies you; this is how to love a man, and if this doesn’t work there are other ways, and if they don’t work don’t feel too bad about giving up; this is how to spit up in the air if you feel like it, and this is how to move quick so that it doesn’t fall on you; this is how to make ends meet; always squeeze bread to make sure it’s fresh; but what if the baker won’t let me feel the bread?; you mean to say that after all you are really going to be the kind of woman who the baker won’t let near the bread?”
[Girl, Jamaica Kincaid, 1978]

jinscku  asked:


                      [[one of those damn symbol memes: your muse in my muse’s clothes]]

the dryer broke about a week ago, clothesline erected of some rope and clothespins procured at the local corner store, middle of nowhere, away from the world as it were it worked until, until, until jesse got around to fixing it flannel shirts and t-shirts, loose fit tops, pants of varying style (all the skinny-legged ones with the holes? those were hanzos; he’d take boot-cut levis any day) sheets, the duties assumed by the man that spent his morning meditating on a porch with one of their pet chickens. he never intended to keep one of the chicks as a pet by any means but, well, he wasn’t making all the calls around here:

an excitable foal and a bucket of water later and he found himself going through the closet for the soft blue plaid shirt, a light fabric, soft to the touch, sword it was clean remembered hanging it up the night before, checked what was in the basket, the washer, ran a hand through hair of dark brown with a sigh through his nose: have to ask hanzo, he guessed. bed stripped, clay pots in the window dipped in gold held small succulent plans, laundry day, he guessed. metal crossed from left to right, gripped his shoulder, rolled it back (a pop sounded) bare skin kissed by the familiar warmth of the sun as he stepped down from their back porch, boots audible but the hands busy draping blue sheets (hanzo’s choice) paid no mind, the hum idle, stopping jesse in his tracks.

loose-fitting shorts (his) and an unbuttoned flannel shirt (also his) were on the body of his hanzo, but he couldn’t bring himself to irritated, or mad, he only smiled and gave a little laugh, the reverie of his hanzo, his love, interrupted by strong arms grabbing him from behind and eliciting a small sound of irritation before a laugh.

❛ didn’t think i was in love with a thief, ❜ as he laughed in time, face finding the crook of hanzo’s neck: ❛ am i gonna have to go n’ get the sheriff? ❜