Laundry Day
A Sam and Rose Story
Chapter 1: Laundry
Admiral Biscuit
This isn't fair, I thought. Even after a night of sleep, my whole body ached. I’d spent a whole day working with Holly Sweep, and while the chimneys in Ponyville had benefited from our work, I hadn’t. I'd washed myself off as best as I could with cold well-water—back on Earth, a hot shower would have been the cure for the soot and aching muscles, but I didn't have indoor plumbing, and it was too late to go to the river.
I'd skipped dinner, deciding instead that the bed was a more pressing priority . . . but I'd had trouble falling asleep, and then I woke up way too early to a charley-horse in my left leg.
As I lay there trying to massage my calf and relax the aching muscle, a rooster began crowing. My body had decided that a rooster meant it was morning, and I knew I wouldn't be getting any more sleep, as much as I wanted it.
Stupid sun isn't even up yet. I slid out from under the covers, the morning air chill against my bare skin.
I put on my robe and made my way to the kitchen, getting the fire in the stove going again. The convenience of having a coffee maker was yet another thing I'd taken for granted; now I had to do it the old-fashioned way.
I used the outhouse while the water was heating up, and and by the time I got back, the kettle was already whistling cheerfully to me, and the stove had made the kitchen a good ten degrees warmer. The morning was beginning to look a little brighter.
I put the grounds in the French press and let them begin performing their magic upon the water, while pondering my morning plans. I didn't have to work today, so I could get caught up around the house. Breakfast would be a good way to start my day off.
By the time I'd laid out my supplies, the coffee was ready and I poured a mug. I'd stopped using creamer when I was introduced to the cow who provided it. The ponies didn't think that was weird, but it crossed a line for me.
At least the chickens can't talk, I thought as I cracked an egg into the cast-iron skillet. Two slices of bread went beside the pan, directly on the surface of the stove. I'd burned multiple loaves of bread before some pony took pity on me and showed me how it was done.
I had just enough time while breakfast was cooking to fill my stockpot and put it on the stove. Some homes have stoves with built-in water boilers, but I wasn't so lucky.
I stood at the counter to eat my breakfast. I had chairs, but they weren't terribly comfortable for me. When I could afford new furniture, I'd have a carpenter make some to my dimensions.
When I finished eating, I washed my plate and fork using the hot water left in the kettle, then put them in a drying rack.
I got the laundry tub out, put it on the counter, and filled it with a little cold water and soap, before carefully transferring the water from the stockpot into the tub. I threw my dirty clothes in, pushing them around until they were soaked through, and then refilled the pot and put it back on the stove.
I reset the dampers, and tapped my foot impatiently, looking at the clothes on the counter. They'd want to soak for a while to loosen up the dirt before I finished them. I could wipe down the kitchen counters . . . but up in my bedroom, there was a half-finished Daring Do book, and I could read a chapter or two, then attend to my laundry.
I hung my robe neatly on a peg in the bedroom, put my comforter on the floor, and sat Indian-style, with the window at my back, letting the early-morning sunlight warm me, and began reading about Daring Do's latest conflict with Dr. Caballeron.
• • •
I was wringing out the last of my shorts when I heard a knock on the front door. All of my clothes were being washed—laundry was a once-a-week proposition, and I didn't have any extras. My robe was still in my bedroom. I wasn't expecting company, so. . . . “Just a min—“ I started, before the front door opened. It wasn't locked, because there were no locks.
“Morning, Sam,” Rose said cheerfully as she stepped inside. “I came by to see how your flowers were doing.”
I heard her hooves clopping across the floor, coming closer and closer to the kitchen. Instinctively, I looked around for something to cover myself with; aside from an oven mitt and soaking wet clothes, I had nothing.
“Lily and Daisy are working at the shop, and it isn't a market day.” She stepped into the kitchen and looked at me brightly, just as I moved to put the counter between us. She probably couldn't see anything that she normally wouldn't, but I felt extra naked knowing that I wasn't wearing my shorts.
“Laundry time,” she observed, spotting the washboard leaning in the tub and my shorts and underwear sitting on the counter in a wet lump. “Do you want help?”
“I've just got to hang up my clothes,” I said a little too quickly. “Outside, so they can dry.” Chill out. She's seen you naked before. It's no big deal. It still didn't feel right.
“O-kay?” She stretched the word out, her ears drooping slightly.
“I guess I could—“ I turned to look at the door to the backyard. “I'll just—“ I needed some excuse to go up to my room and grab my robe. Unfortunately, while I was dithering, Rose came around the counter and opened the back door.
“They won't hang themselves,” she said brightly.
I took one more look through the living room, where I could just see the bottom few steps of the staircase. I could pretend that I think the clothespins are upstairs. I turned my head to face Rose, my excuse on the tip of my tongue, but she already had the box of clothespins in her mouth. Too late I remembered I'd already set them on the counter.
“I can't just go out there like this.” I motioned down at my nude body.
Rose furrowed her brow. “It's just your backyard; who's going to care? You don't wear your clothes when you sleep, do you? Don't you go to the outhouse like that at night?”
No. I put on my robe. “You're right.” I took a deep breath and began transferring my laundry into a wicker basket. It had been a gift for spending a week out in the willow beds, cutting and bundling for White Withy. It was also, when held in front of my body, a bit of a shield for my nakedness.
Crossing the threshold from my house to my backyard was one of the hardest steps I'd ever taken. While I'd had months to get used to being unclothed around my own home when nobody was there, and I'd managed to get over it at Rose's—helped by a lot of wine—this was a different animal. Every bit of conditioning I'd received as a child was screaming at me to not do it, that I would be arrested or stared at or worse. When my left foot came down on the dirt path, it was like stepping on lava, and if Rose hadn't been looking back curiously, I would have bolted back into the house and slammed the door behind me.
But after that first step, nothing changed. I took a second step, and the birds didn't stop their singing, nobody jumped out from the bushes to take advantage of me . . . the world just kept on turning, completely oblivious to my mental crisis.
I wasn't ready to go frolicking around the backyard, though. It was obvious that the only way through this little episode in my life which I totally wasn't ready for was to hang up my clothes as quickly as possible, and then get back inside the house where I would be safe. With that thought in mind, I hastily covered the rest of the distance to my clothesline, and began hanging up laundry with a vengeance.
Rose pointed to a pair of panties. “How come you never wear just these? They look kind of nice and satin-y.”
“They're meant to be hidden,” I said. “Don't you have, um, underdresses?”
“Yes, to make the outer dress keep its shape,” she said. “A lot of fancy dresses are like that.” She skeptically regarded my panties. “But I don't see how those would help make your pants look more . . . filled out.” I had to remind myself that the way she was looking at me and my underwear was no different than a child’s innocent curiosity, but it was still awkward.
“It's a human thing,” I said. I wasn't going to get into a conversation about underwear with her. I'd already done that once with Rarity, who at least was kind enough to not ask why, once we'd established that I was adamant about the need. I picked up the empty basket, shielding myself once again, and made tracks back into the house, Rose trotting along on my heels.
Eschewing my usual rule of not sitting in my chairs naked, I primly crossed my legs, took a couple of deep breaths, and regarded Rose silently. I could tell by the way she had her head cocked and her ears pointed that she knew I was upset, but she didn't know why. I waited until the third tail-flick, running my hands absently through my hair as I tried to figure out how I might explain it to her.
Had it been a child on Earth, it would have been no problem; I could have either used my 'adult voice,' or perhaps given a more detailed explanation, but how to explain it to a pony who was more or less my own age? I tried to remember what I'd told her before, but I couldn't remember what we had and had not discussed.
“It's nothing you did,” I said lamely. “It's just kind of the custom where I come from to not go outside without clothes. Anywhere. Ever.”
Her ears turned in my direction. “That . . . that's dumb.”
I gave her a half-shrug. “We just have different rules on personal privacy than ponies, that's all.”
“Tailors in your world must be rich.” She put a hoof over her mouth, blinked at me, and then changed subjects. “Who braided your mane?”
“I did.”
“Really?” Her eyes brightened. “All by yourself?”
I nodded.
“How come? Are you going to a party tonight?”
“No, I just do it before sleeping if I washed my hair. It helps to keep down the tangles.” If I hadn't been distracted by Daring Do and laundry, I'd have brushed it out by now. “And it gives it a bit of a curl.”
She moved around behind me, taking a close look at my handiwork. It wasn't anything fancy, just a plain three-strand plait.
“It's really pretty.” She moved alongside me, and gently nuzzled my thigh. “Do you think—“
“Would you like me to braid yours?” I reached out and put my hand in her silken mane.
Rose nodded eagerly.
“All right. Wait here; I'll get some combs and hair ties.” I climbed out of my chair and headed upstairs. All my beauty supplies were in my bedroom, neatly stowed in a vanity. Not that I had too many of them. All the things I'd taken for granted in my apartment, gone in an instant when I was thrust into a new world completely destitute. I was fortunate I had what I did.
As I gathered up my grooming tools, I looked over at my robe. I could put it on, claim I was cold . . . but I just had a feeling that I would lose whatever slow progress I was making if I did. She’d see through the excuse anyway; I hadn’t been wearing it in the kitchen. Hopefully, when I was doing something inside my own house, I'd be able to put it out of my mind.
“Sam?” Rose called out tentatively from downstairs. How long have I been staring at that stupid robe?
“I'm on my way.” My eye went to the comforter, still spread across the floor where I’d been reading. There was my salvation; I could put it on the floor and cover myself with it. She’d understand that I didn’t want my butt to get cold.
Those priorities, man.
I think you could explain underwear as protecting from a rougher outer layer of clothing, but that's assuming the outer wear isn't soft enough already. It's weird to think that I have go-to explanations for clothing because of MLP.
Is this being continued after October or during?
5132868
Heh, yeah, I probably should have switched around the order of them. Based on personal experience, being arrested is worse than being stared at.
5132910 Leave it, think it's funnier that way
5132901
Yes, that or sanitary explanations would both be potentially logical. It's not a topic Sam's exactly comfortable with.
(Possibly TMI) Since I probably wouldn't bother with clothes if it wasn't illegal to go without, I really couldn't come up with a good rational explanation for why they're needed. But that's just me.
The next chapter is mostly written, and the final chapter is fully planned out. I would like to have it done by the end of October, although depending on how Dracula goes. . . .
5132957
"Our civilization, our rules. You're people are just as dumb for not wearing clothes."
Of course neither Sam nor I would ever be so mean as to phrase it that way...
Also... TMI!
5132990
You should know better than to scroll over spoiler text tagged with TMI. Didn't you read the blog notes on Lyra and Bon Bon go to Wales?
Sam would be wearing a full set of clothes if she could afford them. Just another bit of culture shock that most authors ignore.
I pity Alex . . . his future may not be as rainbow-y and sunshine-y as he thinks.
5133013
Money? He'll be dating a princess. And then, when I really get the story into true HiE-mode, all of the princesses!
5133035
So he'll be staggering around in Elizabethan dress clothes? Well, at least codpieces are cool. (for a certain value of 'cool')
In all seriousness, that's a topic which various authors handle in various different ways, and grant the ponies varying degrees of understanding, as suits the fic.
5133051
Look, just because Hasbro put the princesses in those horribly awful things for Twilight's coronation doesn't mean that ponies actually have those! It's my world and they'll be naked if I want, damnit!
Also, we've seen Etherea just sort of rolling with clothes so far with no real quibble. If she thinks it's weird, then she's at least keeping her mouth shut. (and her pants on)
5133217
Don't forget that thing that Rarity put on Spike. They have those.
And I'm willing to bet that 99% of you readers were wishing that she didn't on the latter. . . .
5132957 I agree with #2 mostly, until I need to do yard work. Also I get a sunburn on my arm just driving to work, so I probably need some protection.
Where did you get the story picture?
5133429 It's one of the fimfiction banners.
5133325
Yeah, that can be a problem. I usually forget, and I've paid for it with some pretty bad sunburns. I got a second-degree sunburn on my left arm after a long road trip. I don't recommend that.
Borg do not wear clothes. We never saw the point, since any situationssituations that would require protection would be taken care of by armor if necessary.
Braiding hair is a reasonable solution to disarray.
Keep going! ;)
5135950
Is armor not clothing? Sure, I wouldn't want to lounge around in a chain shirt, but one of the functions of clothing is to protect; by that definition, armor qualifies.
5137853 Good point. Maybe clarification is in order? We don't wear clothes out of modesty or for a sense of style. Though perhaps certain armor is stylish, that alone would not be reason enough to wear it.
I guess the clothes aspect resolves to the question, "Why do you wear them?"
Case in point, I wear clothes because I don't wish to be arrested for public indecency (it would put a hamper on our daily operations), and not because I don't wish people to see me without them on. All the same, we regularly wear only two sets of clothing (rotating during laundering times for the sake of hygiene) for day-to-day activities, one set of clothing for "special occasions" (hmm, disclaimer: not those special occasions!) and one set for recreation (to be worn when not engaged in work). Whereas others we know have whole dressers and closets full of the things, I need not such space.
Thinking a little deeper, a shirt does indeed make an excellent piece of armor to protect against the sun when outside...
5133217 They have a variety of clothing, and Rarity can really make almost everything.
Didn't she even make an "Elvis like" costume for Fluttershy? I don't have a different description for that get up.
3.bp.blogspot.com/-DOC1etuEWU4/U12soREs2QI/AAAAAAAAHQw/3iv_PfAmTwE/s1600/Fluttershy_me!!_S1E20.png
It's certainly not Elizabethan...
Same goes for Sapphire Shores having an absolute style mash up of different eras:
img2.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20130809015203/mlp-gameloft/images/4/4f/Sapphire_Shores_vector.png
5144490
Samantha is a girl.
I feel you are over doing it with the clothing. Ponies done wear clothing because they have fur and tails to keep their privates concealed. Humans lack those. also another reason a human wears clothing is because of warmth and protection. Try walking around outside in the sun with out clothing. Yo'll get a nasty sunburn that way. And considering ponies don't have sunscreen (again fun covered bodies), Sam will get burned since she doesnt have any sunscreen.
5236238 Oh yes - covered in fun!
More seriously - horses get sunburn too.
http://www.thehorse.com/articles/26813/sunburn-and-photosensitivity-in-horses - so it's not quite implausible that sun-screen would exist.
Especially for white ponies.
5132957
Really?
I avoid shorts or t-shirts if I can at all help it because having my arms/legs exposed makes me feel uncomfortable.
I feel like laughing at that in the way that I did makes me less of a good person...
The way I see it, if clothing wasn't practical, people would never have got into the habit of wearing it. Sure, it's popular to write it off as some sort of meaningless custom or taboo, but life is just better when your dangly bits don't flop about when you walk--not to mention saving wear and tear on your knees when you're setting up a camp-fire or something.
5557073
I agree 100%. Clothes allowed our ancient ancestors to spread beyond their normal range, and go places where they couldn't have survived without, Even now, it's about sixteen degrees Fahrenheit outside, and I can assure you I wouldn't want to be outside without a coat, pants, shoes, etc. The same goes when I'm working in the shop--I'm thankful I have gloves, steel-toed boots, and so on, when I'm using the cutting torch, for example. From personal experience,molten metal doesn't feel good on bare skin. But...
This is more a matter of personal opinion. This is based on personal experience; if you want to know more, I'll be happy to tell you.
Pfff. Really? Wouldn't bother me.
You could at least try to explain. It's not that hard.
No coat -> constant wearing of clothes against the cold -> about the only time humans see each other naked is for... intimacy. Not too hard to explain, and fairly easy for her to grasp, I'd say
Pff, hah. It's like holding candy in front of a kid
5778107
Seeing the cow would be one thing. Having a conversation with her is a whole different thing--at least to me.
Counterpoints are that the human body (and pony body) is adaptable to a wide range of temperatures without discomfort--especially if you're moving around. When we were in Florida one November, the natives were wearing winter coats, while us Michiganders were in shorts and t-shirts.
Aside from modesty, I can't give good justification for wearing clothing whenever it's above sixty or so (unless it's protective clothing, but it's canon that ponies wear it, too).
5779010
The issue of Humans in Equestria and the issue of wearing or not wearing clothing has been handled in so many interesting ways in different fics I've read, but the one reason I would have (besides modesty) for always wearing clothing if I were outside is Sunburn. Personally, I'm super pale in RL and can't tan worth a darn, I burn very easily and then, if I'm lucky, maybe burst out into a whole new Milky Way of freckles. (Sunblock all day err-day.)
I can't help myself, but every time I read a fic where the human decides to go around all or partially nude, I cringe at the prospects of sunburn and skin cancer that it brings to mind. Don't get me wrong, I'm enjoying your stories so far about Sam and Rose; I even appreciate her character development as Sam adapts to her new home and the social customs. I just thought I'd share my thoughts.
I'm pretty sure if ponies had external genitals and stood upright in a way that made them highly visible at all times, they'd wear clothes all the time too.
Also, the purpose of underwear is to prevent chafing of sensitive genital areas and protect outerwear from secretions.
6783948
6783948
Mares have highly visible external genitals. Given how they hold their tails in the show, they're highly visible at all times. If they carry their tails in a more realistic manner (which I personally prefer), they're still pretty visible.
Given that when they wear clothes, they rarely wear pants, and even their skirts often don't cover much (and certainly aren't against their junk because of their tails), I think that nuance would be lost on Rarity.
images5.fanpop.com/image/polls/955000/955139_1329551975923_full.jpg
5132990
I would. Nothing highlights how rude someone else is being than turning it right back on them. Then when they get all offended ask 'em, "What? It's ok when you're saying it to me but it's suddenly insulting when I say it to you?"
Rose: Long time reader, first time writer, blah blah blah....
In your blog, you keep mentioning 'her'. You'll show her the way.
Does she even know you or if you even exist?
*awkwardly open and closes mouth like a fish*.....
[youtube=duI-VImSH6o]
Charley's a weird name for a pony.
5144685 Ok...hoooooold IT!! Sam is a girl in this fic correct? 100% bonified 5' (something or other) inches of estrogen hormones? I see a diversity here! 1. You have Sam hiding ONLY her LOWER half behind her counter. And 2. In the fic BEFORE this one, you have Sam going shirtless with only underwear and shorts to wear all over town!! Not to mention the fact, that in the prequel, Rose's hoof traces through uner-arm hair and CHEST HAIR!!! Deny it all you like my dear author, but between the prequel and this sequel, you switched Sam's genders and still have her acting all male until supposedly SHE mentions her beauty supplies.
Explaination. Now.
8148198
That is correct--Sam is, and always was, a girl.
Yes, she has chosen not to wear a shirt, since clothes are expensive.
Well, razors are hard to come by in Equestria--most ponies don't shave themselves as a fashion statement, after all. So that's why she's got hair under her arms.
As for her 'chest hair,' you're mis-reading: Rose was looking at Sam's hips, where her cutie mark would be if Sam had one. Sam then rolled on her back, which means that Rose would now essentially be looking at her crotch.
Sam mentions that the perfume she smells isn't her own (that's even in the story description)--most men would probably say 'cologne,' although I suppose to someone who's not a native English speaker, there might not be a clear distinction. [I don't know if you are or not, but that did trip a couple of people up.]
Sam also says that she has trouble with the squat toilets and removed her clothes to avoid peeing on them; while that's potentially a problem for a guy who's drunk and who has really bad aim, it's a lot more likely to be an issue for a girl.
Most importantly, though, when Sam's looking under the bed for her underwear and shorts, Rose sees her and says that she 'looks like a tail-less mare.'
Underwear actually has two main functions. Modesty and to prevent chafing in your soft, sensitive, more private, areas from your outer clothes.
9572163
That’s very true, although depending on what your outer clothes are might depend on whether you need to prevent chafing (or accidentally getting something caught in the zipper). I think that could be a complicated subject of debate, and might vary from person to person and article of clothing to article of clothing.
I feel like that’s something that ponies would have more difficulty grasping, since at least in Ponyville, they so rarely wear clothes which cover their junk, and depending on circumstances might be willing to put up with minor chafing to look good at a dance, vs. paying for and wearing an extra bit of clothing to prevent said chafing.
I read the first story, and it literally wasn't until they mentioned that Sam's hair was long and braided that I realized she was a girl
10976158
She is indeed.
All these folks thinking there was a sudden sex change, and here I was thinking, "oh! Sam is a trans-girl and is finally starting to be comfy with that!"
11458218
That's an interesting take, one I'd never considered.