just-leave-the-dishes-in-the-sink

anonymous asked:

I just wanted to say that I had like six questions lined up to ask you in case I couldn't find an answer from Sir Google. But BUT I read one of your posts about doing your own research and I have happily answered those questions using Medscape (which is freaking AMAZING!!). So I wanted to say thank you SO SO SO MUCH for not only giving me the resources to do my own research effectively but for encouraging me and other writers to be creative with our writing and not just stick with the normal PT1

PT2 boring stuff. This blog has given me the courage to delve into serious research to maintain my story’s integrity and lemme tell ya, I FINISHED SOMETHING!! It was just a short story, but I FREAKING FINISHED IT!!! And it was this blog that helped me do that. So sincerely, thank you SO MUCH!!

This message nearly brought me to tears. Thank you, for telling me about all of  this. It’s one thing to get praise, which is nice but is… external, I guess. It’s another thing to know that I fulfilled the purpose I set out to do – help writers. 

I’ve always struggled with finishing things. I’m a starter but not a finisher – my classic move is leaving just one dirty dish in the sink, and I have untold archives of stories begun but never finished. So I know exactly how much it means to be able to say “I finished something,” even if it’s small or if it’s not that great or if you want to burn it immediately (ie, most of my work). And I’m both completely honored and amazingly happy to have been even a small part of that for you. 

Congratulations and keep on writing! I hope it gets easier. 

May the page rise to meet you :) 

xoxo, Aunt Scripty

inspired by @elevenknope​’s apartment series

The summer after their junior year of high school, Lucas’ parents get invited on a vacation with Mr. Sinclair’s work to Mexico, so they leave Lucas behind in Indiana for two weeks.  Due to his age and independence, they trust him to stay at the house by himself, and even suggest he ask one of his friends to stay with him so he’s not completely by himself.  He immediately jumps at the opportunity, and soon enough Mike Wheeler is moving into his house for the next fourteen days.  They’re ecstatic to finally live together, and know it’s gonna be great– after all, Lucas has practically spent entire days hanging out on Mike’s top bunk before, and they’d been best friends, since they were five years old.  Living together was the only logical next step.

The others are slightly worried that Mike and Lucas will become even closer than they already are and become inseparable for the summer, but they keep their worries to themselves.  After about a week, the squad drops by the Sinclair’s unannounced, only to find Lucas and Mike screaming their heads off at each other, angrier than any of them had ever seen either of them.

“WHY WOULD YOU JUST LEAVE THE DISH IN THE SINK, WHAT DO YOU THINK’S GOING TO HAPPEN TO IT?”

“I WAS LETTING IT SOAK, LUCAS, IT WAS STILL DIRTY!”

“THAT’S WHAT A SPONGE IS FOR, MIKE!”

Needless to say, Mike moves out the next day.  A few days later, he and Lucas make up easily enough, but they do make a very solemn vow to never, ever, ever try to live with each other again.

Hard to Find

Summary: True love is hard to find, but Jensen Ackles may have stumbled upon it at a bed & breakfast in a small, Kansas town.

Part Two: Whispers in Town
Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader
Word Count: 2475
Warnings: Half-naked, just out of the shower Jensen. 

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Frustration. // Nate Maloley // Sweet

A/N: To the girl who requested this I apologize for responding back so late and I hope it’s everything you wanted?? Thanks for requesting, and if you haven’t requested and you’d like a ship or an imagine hit up my inbox.

Request:  Hi i was wondering if can make an imagine where Nate treats Y/n more like a maid then a gf? Idk if that’s enough information but yeah thanks

Y/N’s POV

“Nathan Montgomery Maloley.” I huffed folding my arms over my chest as I stared down at him passed out on our couch in the living room surrounded by empty beer cans and takeout.

“Mm…hey baby.” He mumbled with a yawn.

“Don’t hey baby me, where did all of this mess come from?” I asked placing both hands on my hips.

After a long and stressful day at work the very last thing I want to come home to is a trashed house and a hungover boyfriend.

“Oh yeah, the guys came over today and it got a little out of control. No biggie.” He said sitting up and rubbing at his temples.

“Maybe not for you, but you’re not the one who’s going to clean it up so it is a biggie to me.” I sighed.

“You’re stressing over nothing, if it’s that big of an issue just call a cleaning lady.” He answered rolling his eyes.

“I’m not going to call some random woman to come and clean up my house, that’s out of the question.” I said starting to pick up the empty takeout boxes and throwing them out.

“So what do you want me to do about it?” He asked sarcastically.

“Maybe you actually start helping out and we wouldn’t even be arguing right now.” I answered mocking his sarcasm.

“I have a major headache right now and I don’t need this.” He said standing from the couch and heading upstairs to your bedroom.

Resuming your cleaning you couldn’t help but be clouded with all of the thoughts running through your head.

Am I wrong for just wanting to keep a clean house? I knew moving in with Nate from past experiences when he would spend the night that he wasn’t too fond on cleaning or cooking and avoided it at all costs. It amazed you how he even survived for so long without you, seeing as he didn’t even know how to use his washer and dryer until you moved in.

But that doesn’t make what he does okay. I’ve always been a clean freak, my mother was a germaphobe and that trait was passed down to me. So I had no problem taking over the responsibilities when it came to cleaning the house but I do expect Nate to pitch in as far as keeping the house organized. Like why not just leave your dish in the sink instead of on my coffee table so that I can avoid having a panic attack when I come home and see it.

I do feel somewhat guilty for going off knowing he had a hangover, but he shouldn’t have even been drinking that early in the day to be passed out by the time I came home and he shouldn’t be making all of these unnecessary messes for me when I get home. I work just like he does and I have a job just like he does. I am not a robot, I’m a human being and I need rest just as much as the next person.

I’d finished cleaning the living room putting my mind at ease for now. I don’t even know why I was so angry at Nate before. Sometimes I can get a little crazy and that’s my fault, but I need a little reassurance from time to time. And I don’t always feel like Nate even wants me around. Some work needs to be done between us or I’m afraid of what these small petty arguments will do to our relationship in the long run.

Just like I need to accept that Nate isn’t as neat as I’d like, Nate needs to accept that I will get upset over things from time to time and sometimes without reason. So walking away from an argument like just now isn’t helping the situation.

Hangover or not.

I put away any cleaning supplies I used to finish cleaning the living room and I headed into the kitchen grabbing a glass out of the cupboard and filling it with water.

Regardless of being upset earlier, Nate was sick and I need to be there to make sure he’s okay.

I headed upstairs entering our bedroom as quietly as possible, looking over at our bed to see Nate somewhat asleep. Probably won’t get much sleep with that hangover.

I went into our bathroom and grabbed some Advil out of our medicine cabinet. I walked back over to the bed and carefully sat down next to him trying not to rock him in case he threw up or something.

“Nate, here take this.” I said holding out the water and the pills.

His eyes opened revealing his red tired eyes making me slightly frown.

Gratefully taking the pills and the water after he finished I took the glass from him and placed it on the nightstand.

“Are you okay?” I asked my voice way softer than a few hours earlier.

“I’m fine, thanks baby.” He answered.

I smiled and soothingly rubbed his back.

“Do you want to talk about earlier?” He asked looking up at me.

“No that was stupid, I was stupid for getting so angry.” I admitted shaking my head.

“You weren’t stupid, you reacted to something I did. I should have been more considerate, and we both were just tired and frustrated.” He said pulling me down to lay down next to him.

“I’m sorry for overreacting and being mean while I know you’re sick.” I mumbled making him chuckle under his breath.

“I love you to babe.” He said pulling me into his chest.

No matter how frustrated he made me feel at times, I wouldn’t trade him for anyone else in the world.

“Frustration, although quite painful at times, is a very vital and essential part of success.”