Rating: Teen And Up
Warning: Choose Not To Warn
Category: F/M
Tags/contains: crack!fic; if washing machines had feelings; appreciate your appliances, they work hard!; I actually researched washing machine history for this
Summary: A look at the Washing Machines of Woodstone Manor through the years. It's not easy being clean.
Notes: Yeah, I did it... to my fellow H-Money shippers on the Ghosts (18+) Discord. You know who you are.
(Also, believe it or not I reversed image searched the old washing machine and have reason to believe it's Maytag from 1971.)
What the Washing Machine Saw
by anonymoose_au
1858
The first washing machine at Woodstone Manor was hardly worthy of the name. It required a lot of cranking and constant supervision to clean clothes.
It didn't much care for the curses levelled at it, it could only do its best.
The one called Helen was the human most often in the Washing Machine's presence. It supposed cursing aside, she wasn't too bad.
Certainly, it preferred that to what occurred one memorable occasion.
The Washing Machine had been minding its own business, its work over for the day when suddenly the door to its sanctum burst open and in stumbled two humans.
The Washing Machine had not seen these two humans before, although one was recognisable from the gossip Helen and other similarly dressed women shared.
The male half of the pair was the owner of the house – and by extension the Washing Machine itself – Elias Woodstone.
The female however was not his wife, although as the Washing Machine understood this was not to be unexpected.
There were many things about the human world the Washing Machine didn't understand, most things really. So exactly why and what these two were doing was a mystery to it and it decided it was best to ignore them.
However, it was soon joined by two of the transparent humans that also inhabited the Manor, though the non-transparent humans did not seem to know they were there.
The Washing Machine did not see the transparent humans often, which was fortunate, because they were rather unsettling, just appearing through the walls.
“He's at it again,” the one with the feather in his hair announced.
“Thor wish he could crush skull of puny man, like with Dane,” the other one - who's garments looked in dire need of a launder – growled menacingly.
The first one nodded. “I hope she doesn't know.”
“Hope in vain, Sasappis,” the one called Thor grumbled, “she knows.”
There were very unbecoming noises coming from the corner of the room, the Washing Machine focused its attention on the transparent ones. Humans really were the most disgusting creatures.
It longed for Helen to return and start cursing at it again, at least those were dirty words and not dirty actions.
Alas this was only the first of many times it would witness such scenes. The Master of the Manor clearly had no scruples and was perfectly content to sully this room.
Totally uncivilised.
1929
The second Washing Machine to grace Woodstone Manor was one of those new fangled electric ones.
The Original Washing Machine was none too pleased at being usurped, which was probably why it told its successor such wild tales before it was carted off.
And wild tales they were, the Electric Washing Machine settled into its position with ease, happily laundering the clothes and haberdashery of the Manor.
Until the day something very different was poured into its drum.
The Washing Machine was used to liquids, the humans poured varying amounts of what they called soap into it before adding their fabrics. This was different though, not only was it not the fine smelling stuff the Washing Machine was used to, the amount was excessive. In fact, it was filled to the brim!
The Washing Machine dearly wished it could voice its displeasure, this was an outrage! Its purpose was to leave fabrics clean and soft, not hold indiscriminate liquids.
It seemed though, its purpose had changed, for the days turned into weeks and still it held the pungent liquid. Every so often a human would come, either to remove some of it or pour more in.
It was truly a humiliating existence and it very much regretted how it had brushed off the warnings of the Old Machine.
One particular day it learnt that everything it had been told was true.
“Alberta! I will not have you ignoring my explicit instructions!” The voice was muffled at first.
“To Hell with that! If I'm gonna be here for eternity I'm gonna go where I please!” A second voice began muffled, but then came into sharp relief as a human, dressed head to toe in burgundy, literally appeared through the wall!
She was followed by a taller woman, dressed in an elegant teal dress with a bustle.
“And why on earth do you need to be in this room? It's a room for servants.”
“Are you serious right now?” The one called Alberta snapped. “It's a laundry, this'll probably shock you, but your clothes weren't magically cleaned by fairies. This is where it happens and I've spent plenty of time in one.”
The woman in teal seemed stunned, her nose wrinkled in distaste.
“'Sides, ain't no clothes getting cleaned now,” Alberta headed towards the Washing Machine, which made it a little worried, thankfully Alberta didn't touch it, only peered into the drum. “See, moonshine!”
The other woman came over and looked as well. “How bizarre, Woodstone has an outstanding wine cellar.”
“Firstly, this ain't wine,” Alberta gave a mocking laugh, “secondly, haven't you heard of Prohibition? No liquor allowed.”
“I hope cocaine is still available.”
Alberta stared, then shook her head, returning her attention to the Washing Machine and its contents. She deeply inhaled, then a look of disappointment crossed her face. “Damn.”
The Washing Machine felt offended, was it its fault it smelt this way?
“Smells exactly the same as the moonshine I drank before I died,” Alberta continued, which soothed the Machine's annoyance somewhat.
The other woman looked perplexed. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“There was somethin' fishy goin' on the night I died, I'm pretty sure I was bumped off.”
“Please, mind your vulgarity!”
“I mean I was murdered, Hetty, geeze,” Alberta shook her head, then gave a small smirk. “Although that's not to say I didn't enjoy myself before hand.”
Hetty gasped, putting a hand to her chest, then scowled. “You weren't murdered, you died of a heart attack, probably from drinking like a fish. I was there, I saw it!”
“Nuh-huh! Alberta Haynes wouldn't just go down from a heart attack, I'm as strong as bull.”
“Your head may well be,” Hetty sniffed, lifting her chin, she was quite a bit taller than Alberta. “You can believe what you want, and if it's so important to you, you can stay in this room all you like. Just don't expect me to.” With that she turned and disappeared through the wall.
“I didn't!” Alberta shouted, hands on hips. “I got better things to do then hang out with you.”
The Washing Machine wondered if Hetty heard that, if she did she didn't reply, Alberta shook her head.
“Ugh, what a snob,” she muttered and turned back to the Washing Machine, taking another deep sniff. “Ah, that's good stuff though. You and I are gonna be good friends.”
The Washing Machine was not sure if this was good news.
1971
Yet another new washing machine entered the Manor as the 70s dawned.
The Woodstones had spent less and less time at the Manor as the years went on, so there weren't many tales for it to be told on its arrival. The Washing Machine from the 1950s had little to report.
Mention of the two types of humans was made, but the Washing Machine had trouble believing in the transparent ones.
Which made it all the more shocking when the strange transparent human arrived in its room one day – straight through the wall! - dancing and trailing her fingers in the air.
This behaviour was so bizarre, the Washing Machine feared for its safety.
The human stopped suddenly. “Hey you!”
The Washing Machine waited and to its surprise, the human came right over to it and carefully reached out and with an index finger hesitantly touched the top of its lid.
“Oh wow! I can touch you! You're like a chair!” The human cheered, a huge smile spreading across her face.
The Washing Machine knew about chairs, chairs were the workhorses of furniture, taking the humans weight and dragged about often so they could be trodden on. The Washing Machine was very pleased not to be one of them.
Until the strange transparent female did a little jump, before landing bottom first on its lid.
The Washing Machine would have winced if it could, but while the shock was real, there was a decided...lack of weight. From what it knew of humans they were often heavy creatures, much heavier than the cat that sometimes came into its domain and sat on its lid. This human seemed to weigh nothing at all.
Still, this was a most unwelcome situation. The Washing Machine had standards – the highest of its class actually! - and having some human sitting on it did not meet those.
The human kicked her heels and giggled. “You know, when I was kid I used to sit on the washing machine at home. It was so fun. Too bad you're not turned on.”
At that moment, one of the regular humans, the ones that could not go through doors entered the room. The Washing Machine knew her as the daughter of the owner of the home, but it had never known her to enter its domain.
“Ugh! Bunch of squares,” the regular human huffed, shutting the door behind her.
“Hey!” The human sitting on it waved cheerfully.
The regular human did not notice, just as the Washing Machine had been told. It was certainly odd.
The regular human reached into the pocket of the long vest she wore – it was decidedly worse for wear and really should be laundered – pulling out a small packet.
The Washing Machine wondered if it was a new soap, it rather hoped so, lately the one known as “the cleaner” had been using a product that smelt absolutely horrendous, apparently it was “pine fresh”, but the Washing Machine didn't believe it.
The regular human opened the packet, pulled out a small white cylinder and put it between her lips.
“Man, I hope that's a herbal,” the transparent one said.
The regular human somehow produced fire from a tiny stick and put it to the end of the cylinder. The next thing the Washing Machine knew there was a smell even worse than “Pine Fresh” in the air.
The transparent human stopped swinging her legs. “Oh, man, menthol?! That's a drag, that's a real drag,” she shook her head and jumped off the Washing Machine. “I'm outta here.” She disappeared through the wall once more.
The Washing Machine was left to wish it could go with her, because the smell being emitted by that white cylinder was really just horrible.
2022
The Washing Machine was still there over fifty years later and it was exceedingly proud of its work, as sporadic as it was.
The young woman who invaded its domain to suck on those horrid white cylinders and blow smoke in the air had continued to do so for a while. The appalling scent had remained on the curtains for years.
There'd been some unfortunate times just a little over twenty years ago when the young woman's – Sophia's - child David had apparently taking to bathing in strong liquor and who knew what else which the Washing Machine then had to clean.
Of course, that was its job, but it would have preferred to avoid such things, besides David did not give due care to the Washing Machine's needs, its filter hadn't been cleaned out for decades now.
Which is why it was not all that surprised when it developed a truly terrible rattle in its innards.
By this time Sophia and David were gone, the transparent humans who never seemed to change remained and a new pair of regular humans had appeared. They seemed to have grand plans for the Manor, but the Washing Machine doubted their savvy, because they continued to use it without clearing the filter.
The rattling was most unfortunate, when it was new the Washing Machine had been one of the quietest available on the market. Now, it could be heard all over the house, a fact that became clear by the appearance of one of the transparent humans one day.
This was Hetty, the Lady of the Manor, a severe woman with curly red hair piled upon her head and a teal dress that was from a long ago time.
“Now you listen to me,” she lectured the Washing Machine, “I have had quite enough of your noise. I insist you cease and desist so that I may get my nap.”
The Washing Machine would answer if it could, but while it could understand the humans, they could not understand it. It was a most annoying state of affairs and the Washing Machine found it cruel that it had to take a lecture.
Eventually, they were joined by the young woman the Washing Machine had met way back at the start of its time here at the Manor, it had since learnt her name was Flower. The two of them chatted and the Washing Machine didn't pay much attention until it heard the words:
“You can fix that rattle by sitting on it, you know.”
The Washing Machine wanted to protest, vigorously, but of course it could not and so it had to suffer the indignity of the Lady of the Manor sitting atop of it and what an indignity it was! It was difficult to hear much with the rattling, but all too soon it became aware that Hetty was making some...sounds, sounds that it did not usually associate with such a woman.
It left it feeling rather...used and more than a little disgusted.
The Washing Machine would allow that Hetty's profuse thanks once the spin cycle finished was a salve, it had been quite some time since it had been complimented on its abilities. However, considering it was not about fresh, crisp, clean fabrics the Washing Machine did not feel completely satisfied.
Perhaps it was not so bad...the Washing Machine had come to fear that it wasn't simply a clogged filter that was causing its troubles. It felt old, and perhaps was coming to its end.
However, to its surprise, Hetty sought it out again not long after and it began to wonder if it would perhaps have a new lease on life. It wasn't as if the clothes did not wash, there was more wrinkling than before, but in general... So what if it was a bit noisy?
Having learnt that one of the normal humans could actually communicate with the transparent ones, the Washing Machine had hopes that Hetty would put in a good word for it.
It seemed not, for not long after the Washing Machine found itself being unceremoniously loaded upon a device with wheels and roll it out of what had been its home for over half a decade, down the stairs and into the light outside. At least it was a nice day.
As the Washing Machine was deposited beside a large truck it noticed something else, wrapped in plastic...
Could it be?
A washing machine?
It seemed it was...and it was really quite something to see, sleek, large, shiny metallic rather than white.
“Take a look, babe, a washing machine fit for a king,” the normal human – Jay – was saying to the one who could see the transparent ones - Sam. “Quietest on the market, no vibrations.”
Well, that hurt...once upon a time that had been the Washing Machine's claim to fame, and now here it was being usurped. It wondered if any of the transparent ones would come to see it off. After all, it had been here longer than three of them.
There was no sign and if the Washing Machine could sigh in defeat it would.
However, just before it was loaded onto the truck to begin its next adventure, the Lady of the Manor, Hetty appeared. She seemed most upset with Jay, but of course, he could not hear her pleas to spare it.
The Lady of the Manor had always struck the Washing Machine as one who did not give in, so it was still surprised when she admitted defeat. But at least, she had some respect, approaching it she bowed her head.
“Goodbye, old friend. I will always remember your spin cycle.”
Briefly, it considered warning the new washing machine of the weird world it was about to enter. However, looking at its shiny metallic coating and its lack of clunky buttons...in a fit of pettiness it decided not to.
Let the new washing machine find it out for itself. It looked like it could handle it.
2023
The newest, sleekest and most efficient washing machine on the market settled in to its new home and took great pride in its work. After all, it had heard from its new owners the deficiencies of the old washing machine - fifty years old?! Was that even possible? - and it knew it was far beyond that ones capabilities. After all, it had twenty-four cleaning options!
One night though...it had a most rude awakening.
There were another type of human in the house – ones that could walk through walls and other humans – the Washing Machine heard them being referred to as ghosts.
It hadn't been all that worried, after all, these “ghosts” did not require their clothes to be cleaned so what possible interaction could it have with them?
This night though, as it was washing clothes overnight, barely humming and using a minimum amount of detergent two of the ghosts appeared. One was the woman in the teal dress that had been outside to greet the Washing Machine on its arrival, the other was a man lacking pants – which was certainly a novel idea to cut down on laundry – however they had clearly not come to admire the Washing Machine's features, they were too busy with each other.
The Washing Machine had no idea what was going on, except that it was most unsettling and seemed to be something the humans would best do in private. Of course, humans never considered the washing machine.
Had it been able to, it would have left the room, but instead it had to endure the indignity of the lady in teal being lifted up and placed on top of it.
“You're such a dirty boy,” the lady in teal spoke in a decidedly un-ladylike fashion, at least as far as the Washing Machine was concerned.
“That's why we're here isn't it, gotta clean me up.”
The Washing Machine felt terror, was this human going to try and launder himself?!
The woman in teal gave a low laugh. “Hmm no, we're here to compare spin cycles, aren't we?”
The Washing Machine did not know humans had spin cycles...
Twenty minutes later, it heartily wished it could have remained in ignorance. The noises were indecent!
Then to add insult to injury it had to hear the Lady of the House's assessment.
“Mmmm, it's not even a competition. You win, you naughty boy.”
Well, that was just uncalled for!
