#my second roommate moved in and when I tell you I am about to kill somebody

[angstigone]

I am finally feeling like aki having power and denji as roommates.

[alpali]

Hi hi Ali, congratulations on 700 followers! Your writing is so good I'm glad people are appreciating it (⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡

May I ask something for your event?

If yes, may I have Atsumu and the trope "singing your favorite lovesong to them as if you are truly dedicating the song to them"? I thought the trope is super cute and a bit of yearning is always endearing. If it's ok, a drabble would be good

Once again, congratulations 💙

Having a roommate who was tall hot and cocky was definitely a challenge. You had applied for the room since he lived close to your campus and at first he was very respectful, no boundaries crossed, very much a gentleman.

However when the two of you grew closer, maybe even blurring the lines between friends or lovers, his goofy side made an appearance. He was loud, a baby, flirtatious, inappropriate. You always replied with a playful roll of your eyes, indulging in his dumb banter.

Lazy early mornings were a regular for the two of you. You’d wake up, get breakfast started and Atsumu would come strolling in, half asleep. You hand him his mug, all apart of this routine. He leans against the counter watching you with a soft smile.

You gasp when your favorite song plays through the speaker. You immediately start humming, swaying your hips. Atsumu breathes out a laugh. You look so cute and so domestic with nothing but your oversized shirt and shorts. Yet you take him by surprise when you whip around, holding the spatula and walking towards him and singing.

“Oh—I wanna take two, I wanna break through—I wanna know the real thing about you, so I can see you in a new light~”

You push his mug to the side, forcing him to dance with you. He looks amused, staring down at you with adoration.

“What is this hm?”

You don’t answer, only singing more.

“Oh~ we can go far from here and make a new world together babe.”

He grins, which you can only guess was due to the pet name.

“Cause if you give me just one night, you’re gonna see me in a new light.”

He doesn’t say anything else, letting you lead him as you both sway away in the kitchen. Food, his mug, your spatula, all of it forgotten. At some point his hands had ended up in your waist and your hands on his shoulders. He twirls you around solely because he loved the way you smiled when he did. He pulls you against him but you’re not done just yet.

“What do I do with all this—what do I do with all this, this love that’s running through my veins for you.”

This couldn’t just be you singing right?

This had to have meant something.

It was all getting to him. The you looked at him with your doe eyes. He couldn’t ignore the way you looked so happy and he tells himself he doesn’t want to see you any different. When the song finally dies out, you giggle against him. He smiles down at you lovingly, fixing your hair.

“Yer so cute.” He smiles, he so badly wanted to kiss you.

You guys were so close anyways, this all felt so intimate but god he didn’t care. He loved every second of this and he didn’t want any of it to end. You laugh, patting at his chest.

“I love that song so much. You should be happy I sang it to you.” You tease and he throws his head back with a laugh.

“Ya sayin I’m special?” He quirks a brow and you roll your eyes.

“Sure—‘sumu.” You slide off of him, turning off the stove.

“Well I’d say yer in love with me after that kind of performance.” You smile to yourself, serving him food.

“And if I am?” He’s taken aback, his cheeks flushing red.

“Yer gonna kill me ya know.” You giggle again, taking a bite of your food.

“But I’d say that I’m in love with ya too.” He smirks, glancing at you for your reaction. You blush as well, moving your food around.

“Are you asking me out Miya?”

“I liked babe better.” He steps closer, he slides a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“If it means I get more mornin’s like this, then yea I am.” His fingers twirl around your hair.

“Take me out at least.” You sigh dramatically and he laughs, leaning closer.

“Let me kiss ya first.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works.”

“Says the one who just sang a whole love song f’me.” He grins, unmoving.

“Fine, just one.” You hold up your finger.

It was indeed not one.

Because Atsumu had been waiting for this moment and he wasn’t gonna let it go to waste.

[yan-randomfandom]

Yandere!Stanford Pines & Borrower!GN!Reader

[PLATONIC] Borrowers are really tiny humans who "borrow" items and food! requested,,, am so sorry if this isn't what u expected 😔

Ford's toothbrush is missing.

In fact, many of his things have gone missing for the past few days. Did Bill possess his body again and decide to prank him?

His eyes catch color behind the toilet. Ah, there's his toothbrush. It must have fallen off.

When he picked it up, it was much heavier than usual. Of course, anything else could've been a reasonable explanation and not some tiny human holding onto the toothbrush for their dear life.

Ford doesn't let you escape, immediately bringing you to his office. You spit out profanities on the way, banging your fists on his fingers.

"Fascinating," he mutters, moving your limbs around. "You're just a tiny human."

"They call us borrowers," you say as you keep avoiding his hands. You notice something. "You have six fingers. Did giants always have that? Never noticed."

He suddenly feels smaller than you. "Not usually."

Ford learned that you actually lived under his floorboards. He had to compromise with you so that you would stop stealing his stuff.

"Roommates?" you tilt your head. "As long as you don't kill me, I guess. And I said I was going to return it!"

He doesn't believe you. He hums, scratching his chin. "Your species must have been hit by the light of height-altering crystals. I'm guessing the way your people survive is by stealing from others."

"Borrowing."

He gave you all sorts of delicious food. Well, they're mostly store-bought, but it's better than anything you've gotten before.

Not to mention his stuff. He had way more than what you were expecting. All the more to decorate your house and expand your collections! He's generous; you'll give him that...

There's something you can't shake off though. Ford's a weirdo if anything.

Bill Cipher knows about you. But he doesn't really care because you're just like any other creature that Ford has gotten. He'll only intervene if you manage to distract Ford from the portal.

So it's a good thing you're doing the opposite. You're actually helping in your own little ways, such as bringing him pen and paper.

Sitting on Ford's shoulder, you keep yapping about rats eating your house. He doesn't mind the noise, albeit he's not really listening, but it's so much better than silence.

He has fallen asleep. You grab the blanket from a nearby table and drape it over his body the best you can. This man does more work than your entire lifespan; it's so concerning.

"You don't want to try becoming a full-sized human? Why not?" Ford asks sincerely, almost concerned. You becoming not tiny is what you were supposed to be.

"Me? Turning into your size?" you make a disturbed face, "no thanks. I feel like my life would be more complicated. You're taking care of me, and that's enough."

He smiles. "Interesting."

Once again, you find him asleep on the desk. You search for a good spot next to his arm and curl up to his warmth, closing your eyes and drifting to sleep.

...You wake up to relentless movement. Looking up, you meet Ford's crazed, hectic eyes.

"You," he exhales, his voice sounding different. "Not here to steal my eyes, are you?"

Without warning, he grabs your body. You tremble. "Bill didn't tell you to, right? You're the perfect size to scoop out someone's eye..."

"Ford—" A bright flashlight shines on your eyes.

He forces one eye open. A few seconds pass. "You're, ah, clear. I'm so sorry."

The human finally lets you go. "What the hell was that?! Are you okay??"

"There's something dangerous here," he winces as he goes around the room, locking all possible entrances. "We have to stop everything we've ever worked for! What I worked for!"

He walks over to you, a smile curling on his lips. "Don't worry. I'll protect you, little borrower. Won't let him lay a single finger on you."

Before you could even blink, you're pushed inside something. You quickly run to the front, holding the bars that kept you away from escaping. "Wait, let me go! You're being crazy!"

"I know this seems bad, but it's only temporary," he replies, locking your cage. "Not until I finish the protection around the house. I'll have to call Stan..."

yes he has cages.... he caged shmebulock 😭

gotta thank @shabbyshoebox for this treasure (tell me if u wanna be untagged!)

[drabbletron]

Domesticity and Other Distractions: Hound x Reader fic (PART 1)

|| So I really am excited working on this little thing, but it's starting to turn into a big thing and I have to break it up. This is the first part in idk how many parts and it's just the fluff for now. Hope you like it!! ||

Fluff inbound!!

The early morning rays shine brightly into the garage and you’re just getting off the night-shift. You don’t really want to move from this spot in Hound’s driver seat. Here everything is nice and calm and relaxing. You don’t have to deal with cleaning the house that your roommates surely left a mess from the night before, you don’t have to answer phones from people who dial the wrong number to your work, and here you don’t have to hear all of that garbage on the television. You don’t have to make any decisions, you don’t have to perform any tasks, you don’t even have to think. Here with him, you can just be.

Hound keeps the radio on low, some soft crooning country song from the 80’s or 90’s humming in the background. He knows you’ve been working hard. He can see it in the way your shoulders sag, the way your eyes droop, the low tired rasp in your voice; You’ve been two seconds from recharge – sleep you call it – since he picked you up. He knows you need your rest. Maybe he could recline the chair for you just a bit? No, if he does that, you’re sure to be out like a light. You need to sleep in a real berth.

Hound materializes his holomatter avatar and opens the driver side door. You jump a little at his appearance but relax once again as you let him lift you out. Even like this he’s handsome and strong. He holds you to his chest like a newlywed. Looking up at him from where you rest your head against him, seeing the sun catch in his pretend body and the slight shimmer to his hair, he looks like the cover of those cheesy romance novels you see at the pharmacy. He’s golden and hazy and his touch is gentle and secure, and, most of all, this cowboy is all yours. You can feel your cheeks heat as a smile cracks your face.

“Now what’s got you all smilin’?” he grins from ear to ear.

“Oh nothing, just happy to be with you.”

His spark thrums in his chest. How can someone so small lay a big bot like him flat out like that with just a few words? His hands keep you tighter to him and he turns to make his way into your home, sporting a pink dusting of his own.

“Ah’m happy to be with you too.”

You use the hand that isn’t wrapped around him to open the door, and he steps into the empty home. You’re glad there’s no one here at the moment. You’d surely be ridiculed by the others for being carried in. They’d start chanting about you and Hound sitting in a tree again and you don’t think your heart could handle the embarrassment.

“Where’s all your roommates?”

“Working their day jobs. I’d better get my rest now while they’re away. Lord knows they’ll be rowdy once they get back.” You make to get off of him, but Hound doesn’t let you down.

“I know you’re tired, darlin’. Why don’t you let me take you up to bed? You said your feet have been killing you, and I can’t have you dyin’ on me.”

Knowing Hound, behind that boyish humor, he’s serious about doing it, but the thought of him seeing your bedroom unkempt and messy has you wanting to tell him no. The rest of the house is explainable as your fellow inhabitants, but your room is all your own fault. You don’t want him to see you and your mess nest! On the other hand, staying wrapped up in his arms sounds like heaven. Can he even carry you up the stairs? Plus, wouldn’t it be weird for him to walk back through the house alone when he goes to leave? He could just disappear, but that would be weird too?

Hound can see the gears turning in your head and the uncertainty that looms behind your eyes. Maybe you don’t want him to carry you? He could definitely do it; you weigh nothing to him. Hell, he could hold you all day if you’d let him. He wouldn’t put you down for anything, Prowl and his paperwork be damned.

“Are you sure? It’s a little messy. I haven’t been home or awake long enough to clean it and there’s piles of clothes everywhere…” You look away from him, embarrassment red on the tips of your ears.

“Oh, if you’re worried about the mess, don’t worry. Ah’ve seen the way Cliffjumper leaves his hab. I’m sure if I’d left you alone in there you wouldn’t be able to find your way out.”

You breathe out a laugh through your nose and he smiles, glad you’re not frowning.

“If you insist…”

“Ah promise it’s not as bad as you make it out to be, darlin’.”

With that he walks through your home and up the stairs. He’d only ever been in here a couple of times: once when you invited him in to watch some television on the couch; another time when he came to make sure you were alright after the power went out, he insisted staying with you throughout the night until it came back on; and another time when he met your friends for a roommate game night, he’d had a blast until one of them asked how long you two had been dating. There was nothing wrong with the question but having to explain to an alien robot what dating was and what it meant had to be right up there with giving a sex ed talk to an out of touch, overly sheltered family member.

Once he’s up the stairs and at your door, you again open it for him. He’s not wrong about it being as bad as you imagined, it’s worse. Your undergarments, half drank drinks, and personal care  products are strewn over almost every available flat surface, and the chair in the corner as well as your desk chair are piled high with not quite dirty laundry. Many of the items you’ve only worn once but couldn’t justify calling it dirty as, again, it’s only been worn once. The floor is also covered in a light scattering of clothing. Clothes, clothes, clothes. At the center of the mess is a definitely slept in bed that looks more like a nest you fell out of than a regular respectable sleeping space. It didn’t look this bad last night, you swear!

“So this is your room, huh?” he says as he looks around at the decorated walls and the fluffy floor – “carpet” you called it, right? Then he looks to the hooks for your hoodies and wonders aloud what that “little patterned fabric” was for. Oh lord, not the spotted underwear!

“Okay, that’s my cue to clean all of this up right now,” you clamber down from his hold and start tossing water bottles in the nearest overfilled trashcan and dashing to pick up much of the unmentionables, “If you want, you can just hang downstairs or back in the garage. I’ll come get you when I’m done,” you pause and face him face flustered, “if you’re staying, that is..? I don’t mean to assume, I just thought…” You add that last bit almost forgetting that he might have patrol or some other assignment.

The way you’re looking at him, like he’s someone you want to impress, makes his tanks do flips, could you get any cuter?! You think he cares if your room is a little messy? You could live in a dumpster, and he’d still spend every last bit of his free time trying to see you and spend time with you. What your house looks like never bothered him, as long as you’re there he’s happy. Not to mention you look so hopeful for him to stay. He couldn’t turn away even if he wanted to, not that he ever did.

Hound just smiles back at you and happily announces, “Ah didn’t plan on going anywhere, so, unless I get a call, I’m all yours for the next ten hours.”

Seeing your eyes light up has him ready to jump for joy with you! It’s like that time you watched him pull into your driveway after a month of being on a long-distance mission. You’d rushed right into his arms thankful to see him. It was lucky no one was home and that you’d lived far from the main roads, otherwise you’d have to explain alien robots and sentient cars, but that was the last thing on your mind when you were more interested in showering him with love. That was when you’d shared your first kiss.

“Ah’m sure I’ll find something to occupy me while you do your thing up here.”

“Sounds good! I shouldn’t be too long,” you say diving back into your room, but not before dashing up to him and giving him a peck on the cheek that leaves him glowing.

(Part 2)

[eadanga]

The Boy Next Door Part 2

Summary: Sarah an aspiring writer has her life crashing down when her husband leaves her for his co worker. What happens when Chris her college crush moves in next door?

After her jog Sarah head back into the house she pulls out her phone and calls her best friend Kendra

“Hey what’s up girl?”

“Just did some exercise you?”

“Taking a break from wedding planning it’s so stressful you know”

“I can understand that but I got some news”

“Omg! You finally killed the bitch who stole your husband! Don’t worry I can help you Lucas can help you”

Lucas calls out “I’m not helping any of our friends cover up a crime!”

Sarah laughs as Kendra sighs “You’re such a killjoy!”

Sarah giggles “Can I tell you my news now?”

“Yes let’s hear it”

“Ok so you remember Chris?”

“Yes that guy you told me you had a major crush on and he had feelings for you too right?”

“Yeah I just ran into him he moved in across the street from me”

“Really?” Kendra squeals “How far did you and him go?”

“Well we made out a couple of times then he was dating this awful girl”

“Annnnnnd?”

Sarah sighs “Ok we had sex one time and we were both drinking”

Kendra giggles “Wow girl did his girlfriend find out?”

“Yeah he was kissing her then he called her my name”

“He did what?!” Kendra burst out laughing “I bet the bitch had a meltdown”

“Oh yeah came over to my dorm to fight me good thing my roommates were there we all kicked her ass”

Kendra laughs harder “Oh God you’re killing me here what happened after that”

“It was just drama she and her friends started harassing me Chris broke up with her it didn’t stop filed a report with the school she had to back off or get expelled she listen that time”

“Good and you and Chris”

Sarah sighs “We talked about it but I could still see he blamed himself for what happened he really didn’t want to date after that so we remained friends”

“He wasn’t responsible for what that hoe did!”

“Tried to tell him that but he still felt guilty”

“Well the universe has given you a second chance with this guy! Just don’t rush things take it slow show that you still have feelings for him”

“You really think it’ll work?”

“Girl if he was in love with you back in college I guarantee you he still has feelings for you now”

Sarah smirks “Well he did sort of ask if I was married”

“See! Signs girl!”

Sarah giggles “Ok I’ll gonna give it a shot I won’t force anything but I’ll try”

“I’m rooting for you!”

Sarah laughs as she hangs up then stares out his window watch Chris move boxes into his house Well can’t hurt to give it a shot

****

Chris wipes the sweat off his forehead This is exhausting but a good workout As he goes to get the next box he notices something out the corner of his eye Is that Sarah? Is she staring at me while I do this? He smirks Well better give her something to stare at He pulls off his shirt then heads to get the next box as he lifts it he catches Sarah’s expression That blushing face I love it hasn’t changed since college

He pulls out his phone oh damn gotta go enroll Jack in the school He puts his shirt back on as he drives to the school he quickly heads to the principal office

The principal looks up “You must be Mr. Powell”

“Yes I am sorry I’m late”

“It’s not a problem here are the paperwork to sign your son up just sign these”

Chris quickly signs the papers and hands them back “Thank you Mr. Powell your son can start tomorrow here’s his schedule”

“Thank you” Chris walks out the off and towards his truck

“Hey it’s you!”

Chris turns around and sees a little girl running up to him he smiles “Oh hi you must be the girl I saw with her mom”

“Yup I’m Emma I wanted to meet you but mommy said afterschool”

Chris chuckles “Well she’s right school comes first”

“Look there’s mommy now!”

Chris turns and sees Sarah running towards them

“So sorry I’m late sweetie”

“It’s fine mommy”

Sarah turns to Chris “I see you’ve met my little one”

Chris grins “She was very adamant about meeting me”

“What do you do Mr”

“Chris just call me Chris”

“Ok what do you do Chris?”

“Well I was a football player”

Emma’s eyes go wide “Really? Coooool”

Chris laughs “Yes now I’m teaching other kids to play”

“Can you teach me how to play?”

“Football is a dangerous sport”

“Boo I wanted to play”

Sarah pulls her close “Maybe when you taller and have more muscle”

Emma blows a raspberry as Chris and Sarah laugh

Sarah smiles “Come on sweetie I have to take you to dad’s”

“Ok bye Chris!”

“Bye bye”

“She loves you”

“Well I try have my way with kids”

Sarah giggles “I’ll see you later and we can get coffee”

“Absolutely”  Chris smiles as he watches them walk away Exact replica of her mom

****

Emma walks through the front door of her dad’s house he smiles as he greets her “Hi did you have a good day?”

“Yeah it was” Emma looks around “She’s not here”

“She is but”

Tiffany comes out of the next room she has a grin on face “Hi there Emma!”

Emma frowns “Hi”

Tiffany sits next to Josh “Did you tell her yet”

“Not yet she just came in”

“Tell me what?”

Josh turns to her “Well you’re gonna have a sibling and”

“And a new mommy! We’re gonna be a family together!”

Josh turns to her “Tiff don’t”

“New mommy? I have a mommy”

“Yes I know you do sweetie but you can call me mommy too”

“I’m not gonna call you that I have a mommy!” Emma grabs her bag and runs to her room

“Em wait!” The door slams Josh whirls on Tiffany “Why the hell would you tell her that?!”

“I was just being honest and it’s true we’re getting married”

“You can’t force her to call you mom! What else have you been telling my daughter?!”

“Nothing! Why are you getting so upset with me?! I’m just trying to bond with her”

“Well that is not bonding with her!” Josh runs his hands through his hair in frustration “I gotta go check on her I wasn’t sure but now I know that you don’t think before you talk”

“Josh wait!” He runs to the room as Tiffany sits on the coach huffing in frustration

Tags: @indiacater @choicesgodfanatic @jared2612 @the-soot-sprite @darley1101

[mileygoneblogger]

♱⃓ 𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬 ♱⃓

word count: (2.3k)

warnings: mild language use, anxiety/overthinking, brief mention of past family conflict (light, implied)

⚝ return to masterlist ⚝

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐨: 𝐬𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬

i had just finished a lecture on the psychological effects of chronic stress, which felt a little too on-the-nose for a tuesday afternoon. by the time i left the classroom, my back hurt, my coffee had gone cold, and my social battery was in the negatives.

i had twenty minutes to kill before my next class, so i did what any normal person would do: i found the quietest corner on campus, sat on the cold stone ledge beneath the psychology department’s sad excuse for a tree, and stared at my phone like it owed me something. it's been a week by now. a little more than, actually. maybe it's time for me to just suck it up and maybe get a second job or something. my thumb hovered over the "delete post" button, and then...

that’s when i saw it.

a text.

from a number i didn’t recognize. which normally meant: scam, stalker, or maybe even an unsolicited dick pic if they so please. but this one?

this one was… weirdly normal.

[unknown contact]

2:23PM

💬❔: Hey, this is the number for that roommate posting, right?

💬: yeah, this is it. looking for a place, i assume?

💬❔: Yeah lol, your ad caught my eye. You seem fun to be around. Tolerable, even.

💬: tolerable? damn, that's high praise from a stranger, lol. if you wouldn't mind telling me a little about yourself, that'd be great. you know, just to make sure you're not gonna sacrifice me in some weird roommate ritual

💬❔: No promises. I'm Jack Marston. I'm 19, a major in Criminal Justice, and I work as a clerk at Vinyl Vault (Normal part-time hours). I'd make sure to pay rent on time, I mainly keep to myself but I also don't mind hanging out. Not a small-talker. And no, I'm not a serial killer, lol.

he texts back too fast. or maybe i read too much into it. god, he hasn’t even moved in yet and i’m already looking for signs—some hidden way he’s gonna disappoint me.

💬: hm, alright then jack. i'm megan harper. 19 as well, psych major. i'm a waitress at that old diner downtown, and i work part-time hours as well. we can set up an apartment tour sometime this week if you're available, and we could get to know each other a little more. i'm available tuesday, thursday, and sunday. whatever works for you, man.

💬❔: Huh, I think maybe Sunday could work best for me. About what time do you think?

💬: how does 3:30 sound? :p

💬❔: Works just fine for me. I'll see you Sunday, then.

💬: sure, sounds great. cya then.

immediately after this conversation, i found myself taking a deep breath. what the fuck am i doing? i was already starting to get cold feet at the idea of another person being in my space. i mean, i've been a hermit for so long, what's going to happen when a new person comes along and moves in? it's a disruption of peace. my peace. should i just block his number already? shit. shit. SHIT.

i mean, he doesn't seem that bad... at least not over text, anyway. let's just hope it stays that way.

later that day, i found myself alone in my apartment as usual. i decided to take out my laptop and chip away at the assignments my professor had posted at the beginning of this week. i took solace in my living room, on my favourite spot on the couch: right in my corner that i could nestle into just right.

i placed my laptop on the table in front of me before i put some music on, and proceeded to walk into my kitchen to make myself a mug of tea. as i waited for my electric kettle to boil the water, i drummed my fingers in rhythm to the music against the counter i was leaning on. i was lost in my thoughts as the soft acoustics of alice in chains' MTV unplugged performance played in the background.

"—down in a hole, and i don't know if i can be saved..—"

as layne staley's vocals reverberated through the room, the low hum of an acoustic guitar rattling my bones, i was deep in thought about the whole interaction with this jack guy, if that was even his real name. i've never heard of him around campus, or at least i've never noticed him, but that could also be on account of our different majors. was he real?

so, i did what any sane girl would do: pulled out my phone, and scoured the internet for him. i pulled up instagram and gingerly typed 'jack marston' in the search bar. 10 minutes and far too many dead ends later, i finally found something that matched: a private account under his name. the profile picture showed a group of guys my age in what looked to be some garage.

screenshot. zoom.

five men. three of whom i've seen around campus, one familiar face—ben. weird, they must be close. and then... one i didn't recognize.

tall. dark-eyed. long-haired. scruffy facial hair. a little unkempt, but not in a bad way. more like... the kind of messy that was intentional. wait, is that... is he wearing guy-liner? seriously?

of course he is.

he looks like the type who’d ask me to name three songs in the middle of a walmart because god forbid i decided to wear a band tee that day. the type who thinks he's all misunderstood and mysterious, all sarcasm and eye rolls.

ugh. no. here i am, already trying to psychoanalyze this guy i've texted once. one time. liza would say, "give him a chance, meg! you never know!" and give me those big blue puppy eyes she has that i hate to admit work every time because i love her too much.

this was a mistake. inviting some stranger into my home just because rent’s getting too hard to handle? letting a guy like that into my space? i've seen movies like this before. never liked the endings.

i just can't help but think that this whole thing feels so off. because letting someone in—really in—feels like setting the table for disappointment with your finest, fucked up china. it's like saying, “here’s everything i am, just so you can decide it’s not enough.”

at the end of the day, people really are disappointing, aren’t they?

and okay, yeah. maybe i do have some trust issues. maybe my gut reaction to connection is to run the other way. maybe i do still flinch at the thought of someone knowing me too well. maybe it’s easier to be alone than to be let down.

he had one arm around ben's shoulder, the other flipping off the camera. yeah, real charming. nothing screams "trustworthy roommate" more than a middle finger and a smirk. my eyes drifted over his outfit: an alice in chains band tee, and baggy black jeans that looked like they've seen far too many dive bars.

weird coincidence. i turned down the volume of my stereo just a little bit.

i caught myself wondering what music i’d play when he came over. something obscure but not pretentious. something to test the waters. maybe—

jesus, meg. get a grip.

you’ve texted him once. one time. you don’t know anything about this guy except that he owns a band tee and knows how to form a coherent sentence. that’s a low bar, even for you.

what if he smelled good?

fuck. what if he smelled good?

i bet he wears some woodsy cologne, something that lingers too long. no. stop it. you’re not doing this again.

i don’t care what he smells like. or what his voice sounds like. or whether he takes his coffee black or drowns it in cream. i don’t care. i'm not making it weird, you're making it weird.

after mentally facepalming myself for staring at the picture for 3 minutes, my kettle let out a small click to signify the water was done boiling. i put my phone down on the counter, reaching up to my cupboards and pulling out my favourite mug: a mug that was a gag gift from my childhood bestfriend, sarah, before i moved here for college.

it was a white mug with a black handle that said "cunt" in black text. i chuckled to myself as i remembered that day we were in my childhood home, sat on my bed, and she passed me a gift bag full of candy, snacks, and of course, this mug. sarah was actually the one who recommended i post an ad for a roommate in the first place. damn you.

i moved on autopilot, pouring the steaming water into my mug, watching as the tea leaves swirl and darken in the cup. my laptop remained open on the couch, schoolwork half-finished, the cursor blinking like it was waiting for me to snap out of my thoughts. instead, my eyes drifted back to my phone's screen.

jack marston. 62 followers. 1 post. no bio, no hints. just that blurry group photo and a username that looks like it hasn't been changed since highschool. i tapped the screen. the "follow" button stared back at me. my finger hovered over it. for one second. then another. i exhaled sharply and grabbed my tea, and closed my phone with a snap.

fuck— no, i'm not doing that.

i flopped back onto the couch, laptop on my lap, textbook open on the cushion beside me. i told myself i was going to focus—that this was just another ordinary night, nothing worth spiraling over. no reason to feel like the walls were caving in just because some guy with decent fashion choices and great music taste was coming over on sunday.

but my brain had other plans.

the cursor on my document blinked like it was judging me. a passive-aggressive little reminder that i hadn’t typed a single word of the reflection essay that was due in… shit. two days.

“analyze the psychological impact of chronic stress on the human nervous system,” i read aloud under my breath. i scoffed. oh, how cute. how poetic. maybe i should just turn in a picture of myself and call it a day.

i tried to write. i really did. i stared at the question. typed a sentence. deleted it. typed another. deleted that too. because all i could think about was him.

jack marston.

who the hell does he think he is, making me spiral like this? just some guy. not even in my life yet and already taking up real estate in my overworked brain. typical.

i closed my eyes and exhaled through my nose, the weight of everything pressing down on me like a stack of bricks labeled “responsibilities you’re currently failing at". i had school, bills, my job, deadlines, and now… this.

a stranger.

possibly moving into my apartment.

sharing my kitchen. my bathroom. my living room. my quiet. my peace.

and yeah, maybe i am being dramatic. maybe he’s totally normal. maybe he’ll move in and keep to himself and we’ll coexist peacefully, like two passing ships with rent payments and bad habits. but the thing is… i’ve been let down before. by people who were supposed to be safe. by people who should’ve known better.

thanks, dad.

god. what is wrong with me?

i leaned back into the couch and stared at the ceiling, letting the music and the steam from my tea blur everything at the edges.

this is fine. it’s totally fine. people get roommates all the time and they don’t have existential crises about it. they don’t spiral over a blurry instagram photo like it’s some bad omen.

besides, it’s not like i care. realistically, he’s probably an asshole. he looks like the kind of guy who plays devil’s advocate just to feel something. the type who listens to alice in chains and pretends it’s a personality trait.

…okay, that was harsh.

also, he does have good taste.

ugh.

this is exactly why i keep people at arm’s length—because the minute i let them in, i start trying to map out every possible way it could go wrong. and it always does.

i’m just being cautious. not cold, just… realistic. except it doesn’t feel like realism. it feels like fear.

i don’t want to care. i really don’t. but if i didn’t care, would i be sitting here trying to guess what kind of tea he’d like? or wondering if he’d recognize the song playing right now?

jesus christ. i’m so annoying.

it’s one guy, meg. he’s not special.

and even if he was, that would only make it worse.

he’s just a potential roommate. just someone to split rent with. someone who’ll leave his dishes in the sink and probably hog the bathroom.

not someone to get attached to.

not someone to lose sleep over.

…then why does it already feel like i’m bracing for something?

i rubbed my temples and took another sip of tea, scalding my tongue in the process. i tried to swallow the heat down anyway.

i let out a small sigh, trying my best to shake the thought of jack away before returning my attention to my neglected schoolwork. i had work to do. a life to live. a stranger to not obsess over.

the guitar riff of nutshell played solemnly, humming throughout the room as i took a sip of my tea, ignoring the way my mind kept drifting back to him anyway.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

i will preach and preach that jack marston is somewhat alt in modern au I DON'T CAREEE ARGUE WITH THE WALL!!!!!!!!!! anywayss thank you guys sm for the support on chapter 1! i'm so glad people are enjoying this as much as i am! chapter three is in the works as i type this.... mwahaha >:)

[i-heart-yellowstone]

43 - An Easy Morning

Part 44

Raised Fair Share of Hell

Please leave comments ❤️

Slamming the trailer door behind me I shoved Travis harshly where he stumbled into the wall behind him. His hat nearly fell off his head where he adjusted it staring at me. “Was that necessary, Faith?” He questioned me, taken back by the frustration I used on him.

He knew I was tougher than I looked after working on my family’s ranch for years. Clutching my hands into fists at my sides I glared at my former horse trainer. “You had no right to just blurt out my family’s business the way you did.”

“I came here looking for you because your parents have been horrified that you were in danger. Why are you freaking out about the Cooper family knowing some of your family history?”

Bringing a hand to my forehead I groaned in frustration. “Because I haven’t told my boyfriend anything about my family history!”

“That’s your problem, not mine.” Travis pushed himself up off the ground floor of the trailer dusting his clothes off with his hands. “What you need to freaking do is call your parents and tell them that you aren’t in a ditch dead somewhere out here.”

“Don’t speak to me like I’m a child. I’m eighteen years old!” I snapped at him.

Travis stepped closer to me, intensely staring into my green eyes. “Clearly somebody needs to because you aren’t acting like an adult right now. Why haven’t you been telling this boy about your family?”

“You won’t understand the reason.” I rolled my eyes crossing the room sitting down on the bed.

He crossed his arms over his chest asking me. “Why wouldn’t I understand it?”

“In Montana everyone knows the Dutton name. I’m known as the Governor's niece, the Livestock Commissioner’s daughter or the Heir to the Dutton/Lambert ranch. I can never just be simply Faith like I can here.” I slumped my shoulders, ruffing my hair around with my fingers. Blinking back some tears that were welling in the corners of my eyes. “Here in Texas I get to be just simply Faith Dutton. Cooper isn’t scared of my family or likes me for my family name. He just likes me for who I am.”

Caroline, who was standing by the closed door, made a comment for the first time. “Awe.”

“Yeah, it’s cute. But you know that a Dutton will always look out for their own regardless of where they live. So you better call your mama and daddy.” Travis lowered his gaze to his dirty boots hearing someone knocking on the locked door.

Caroline turned around unlocking the trailer door. “I’ll get it. What do you want, Norris?”

“Can I speak with my girlfriend for a second?”

Caroline glanced over to me and Travis, seeing me give her a head nod yes. “Do you want to talk alone?”

“But-“ Travis began to reply until my roommate dragged him outside and closed the door behind her once my boyfriend had stopped inside the trailer.

Cooper moved to stand in front of me with his hands stuffed into the pocket of his dark gray sweatshirt. “Why didn’t you tell me about your family? Do you think I’d be embarrassed of what you tell me or -“ Looking at me with those puppy dog eyes of his when he asked the question I had been dreading.

“Terrified I’d scare you off if I told you about my family.”

Cooper blinks a couple of times asking an obvious question back to me. “Why would you think that after I have met your family and seen you doing the work that you love where I think I’m falling in love with-“

I cut him getting off of his small cot bed. “My family does things that aren’t necessarily always the right thing to do.”

“Can I know what you mean by that? Like what don’t I know about your family?” He asked me softly.

Throwing my head back slightly I scratched the back of my neck thinking of how to beastly word this to him. “We have two lawyers in the family on my mothers side but we used to have three with one being on my father’s side. Until he was sentenced to life in prison for trying to kill my Grandfather John who was the state Governor at the time. My aunt Beth got arrested for hitting a woman over the head with a beer before. Then there’s some past minor charges that my parents got arrested for when they were teenagers-“

Cooper takes a step forward tucking a strand of hair behind my ear gently. “You don’t have to tell me everything about your family in one sitting. Just start with stuff I don’t know about you, like how do you know the Travis guy that abducted my father and sister?”

“I guess you’re right, Norris.” I nervously chuckled with a weak smile. “Travis and I started working together when I did rodeo in high school. We would compete in competitions together and became friends through it. He even got me this toy crown and kept calling me Rodeo Queen after I won my first ten competitions in a row.”

My boyfriend chuckled, smiling. “That’s cute, Faith.”

“You think I’m kidding but look.” Taking out my phone I searched through my photos finding the yellow toy crown sitting on my dresser near my window. “It’s still in my bedroom back home and nobody is allowed to ever remove it.”

Cooper dug in his pocket for his phone scrolling before he turned the phone to me so I could see what he had pulled up. “This is for your eyes only. Nobody else gets to know what my mother did.”

“Oh my gosh! Baby Cooper, you’re so cute.” Covering my mouth with my right hand I saw a picture that had a younger version of my boyfriend with his hair up in braids on top of his head.

Cooper took the phone from my hand, hiding it back inside his jacket, deeply blushing. “It’s not cute. It’s embarrassing ... .I'm sorry about earlier with my new crew members. I didn’t think they’d come for you.”

“It’s okay, Cooper. You couldn’t have known I would be held at gun-point-“

The trailer door got kicked opened causing the two of us to jump and scream seeing Travis bust inside the small bedroom. “You got a gun held to your head. I’m sorry when we’re you planning on telling me this information!”

“Travis, can you give us a little privacy here god damnit!” I cussed out, clinging onto my boyfriend who had wrapped his arms around my waist not expecting him to come busting inside his camp trailer.

My family’s friend had his hands on opposite sides of the doorframe when he raised his voice at me and the young boy. “Call your parents Faith and I’ll leave you the hell alone.” Cooper and I shared the same look with each other, knowing this was only the start of our day.

Tag list @bvbwestfall @hcwthewestwaswcn @child-of-of-the-sunshine @elenavampire21 @keep-the-wolves-close @kmc1989 @tallrock35 @whatelsecouldgowrong @lover-of-books-and-tea

[crazyk-imagine]

Childhood Friends and Boyfriends

Pairing: Ben Wheeler x Fem!reader Characters: Fem!reader, Ben Wheeler, Danny Wheeler, Tucker Dobbs, Riley Perrin, Bonnie Wheeler, Emma Wheeler Warnings: Classic Baby Daddy things, Ben and reader really try to not make it obvious they’re together, Tucker wants to kill Ben, Bonnie stops him, Riley just wants to see someone get hit, Emma wants her tea party, Ben runs out before anyone can say no to babysitting, mentions of Tucker bringing home a hooker  Word Count: 1,995

A/N: There’s barely any content for this show so, I took the initiative to make some :p

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You show up to your childhood friend's apartment and knock on the door. 

A tall man opens the door. 

"Hi," you start off. "I'm looking for Tucker." 

"Oh. He's just-" 

"Oh my god!" Tucker sprints across the living room and barrels into your arms, hugging you tightly. "What are you doing here?" 

"Remember the job offer I told you about?" 

"Yeah, of course." He stares at you for a few seconds. “Could you tell me it again?” 

Your jaw drops. 

He chuckles, “I’m kidding. How could I forget the biggest dilemma you’ve ever had… except for that one time-” He whines holding his arm. “That was uncalled for. 

You roll your eyes, "anyway, surprise." 

Ben walks out from around the corner of the hallway and stops, standing beside Danny. "Who's the hot girl hugging Tucker?" 

You glance over Tucker, as usual. “Why does your voice sound familiar?” 

“My voice- wait, why does your voice sound familiar?” 

“Oh-” 

“Oh no. No, no, no.” Your friend pushes you further away from the Wheeler brothers. “You,” he points to Ben. “Are not going anywhere near her and that’s final.” 

“Hey, do you guys know-” Riley gasps as the door closes, “oh my god!” She squeals, calling your name before pulling you into a hug. “I didn’t know you were coming to town. What’s going on?” 

The biggest smile you could ever have stretches across your cheeks as you think about the next step of your life. “Oh, you mean other than the fact that I got the best job offer I could and am now moving to the one place I’ve always wanted to.” 

“Oh my god, that’s amazing.” 

“Thank you.” 

“Your Tucker’s childhood friend!” 

You turn back to face Tucker’s other roommates. “Yeah?” 

“It’s me, Ben. The one that always steals his phone when you call.” 

You check him out up and down. “You look...” 

“Incredibly hot and sexy.” 

“-Shorter than you said.” 

“Oh- well- okay, that’s just rude.” 

“Kidding,” you smile. “You look nice, the beard looks good on you.” 

He feels confident in himself after hearing that. 

“Don’t do that.” 

He looks away. 

“Wow, you get him to listen better than mom does.” 

You smile, “I’ve talked to him too many times. I know how his mind works.” 

“Oh.” 

“Oh?” 

You ignore Tucker’s stare and glance back at the Wheeler boys. “You’re Danny, right?” 

A wide smile stretches his lips wide from corner to corner. “Yeah, how’d you know?” 

“Just a guess.” 

Emma walks out into the living room and Ben picks her up. "Hey baby." 

"Is this the cutie I've been talking to this whole time?" 

Ben smiles, "you... oh you're talking to Emma." 

You furrow your brows at him, "yes, you weirdo. I'm talking to the baby. You can create fantasies in your head about me some other time." 

"I wasn't- I'm not-" 

"Nope." Tucker grabs your arm. "Not happening. Not in this lifetime. I'm going out, you can find someone else to babysit, man." 

"Oh, I can-" You try to offer your services. 

"Nope. Not happening." 

The door slams shut. 

"Sorry, honey.” The lawyer tells her husband. “I'm going with them, bye!" Riley closes the door, the smile leaving her face. 

-

"Okay, let's go. I want to get to know more about the future Mrs. Ben Wheeler." 

Tucker pushes the elevator door button. 

It takes you a few moments to process what she said. "Wait- what?" 

The elevator closes. 

"Why'd you say that?"

"Because you're the future Mrs. Ben Wheeler. You got him to listen to you faster than his own mother can. You are so going to- don't look at me like that Tucker. You know I'm right." 

"I don't want you to be right. I want to keep him as far away from her as I can." 

"Which won't be long." 

"Riley." 

"What? I'm not wrong." 

“Except for that one time-” 

“Shut up, Tucker… You really do get that a lot.” 

He nods, “I know.” 

"I'm leaving you two before I get trapped here any further." 

They try to pull you back into the elevator but fail as it closes on them. 

“How did she sneak out of here so fast?” 

“She’s always been crafty like that. I’m lucky she didn’t succeed in shipping me off to Russia.” 

Riley glances at him from the corner of her eye. 

“I accidentally ate some of her food when we were in middle school, but I was hungry, and we had just run the mile. What was I supposed to do?” 

“I don’t know. Not eat her food. Is that why you label yours?” 

“Yeah, I learned a lot that day.” 

They try to search for you and continue to do so even as you hang out with Ben and Emma back at the apartment. 

-

"You really managed to ditch them huh." 

You shrug and hand Emma her teacup. “It wasn’t that hard.” 

“Clearly, if they haven’t been here yet.” 

“Or maybe they got tired and stopped for coffee. Oh, hey. What happened to the big one?” 

“Who, Danny?” 

“Yeah, that one.” 

“He had hockey practice.” 

“Oh, that’s right. He's the hockey player. I always forget about that.” 

“It’s okay. I don’t always remember either which is funny because I’m his brother.” He glances over at you. “That didn’t sound good, did it?” 

“Honestly, no.” 

He nods, not wanting to say anything else that can make him sound like an idiot. “Mama.” 

“What?” You stare at Ben with wide eyes. “Where did she get that idea?” 

He struggles to respond, “I don’t know.” 

“Stories.” 

“Maybe her story time reading. She’s heard your voice so much it’s like ingrained in her mind or something.” 

“Ben.” 

“I didn’t do it.” 

“Why do I not believe you?” 

“Wha- okay, that’s rude but I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.” He leans in closer to talk to his daughter. “Sweetie, you know she’s not your mama.” 

“Mama.” 

“Oh, God. You got another one pregnant!?” Bonnie shouts, stepping into the living room. “That’s it. Ben, come here. We’re doing this vasectomy today.” 

“What? No, mom! I didn’t get her pregnant.” 

“Wait- is this Tucker’s friend. The one you talk to all the time and obsess over?” 

“No.” 

“I am.” You push yourself out of Emma’s toy chair. “It’s so great to finally put a face to the name.” 

Bonnie smiles, “see Ben. People like me.” 

“I think we’ll get along just fine.” 

“If you like chardonnay. You bet your ass we will.” She glances over at her granddaughter, “sorry, sweetie.” 

You let her take the bottle. 

“We’ll make a trip for more later,” you tell her. 

“You’re officially my favorite, after my perfect little angel. Come on, sweetie. Grandma needs your help picking out a new top.” 

“And, then there were two.” Ben chuckles, patting his thighs. 

“Don’t be awkward.” 

“Right, no. Of course, not.” 

“Are you okay?” You ask and start cleaning up. 

“Yeah, I mean, other than the fact that we’re alone. Totally fine. Why can’t we tell Tucker?” 

“We can’t tell him because he will absolutely lose his mind.” 

“But what if he doesn’t?” 

“He will.” You put her toys in her toy bin. 

“But what if he doesn’t.” He stands behind you. 

“Did you not notice when he did as he pushed me out of here?” 

“Honestly, no because you were looking so cute.” 

You spin around, staring at him with furrowed brows. “What? When have you ever used the word cute in the same sentence when it comes to a female?” 

“Ever since we started talking,” he says, trying to butter you up. 

You hum, “keep going.” 

“You looked really cute when you first came over today.” 

“If cute means hot,” you wrap your arms around his neck. “Then I definitely don’t disagree with you.” 

He smirks, “good. Here’s to me hoping you won’t disagree with this.” 

You two kiss for- who knows how long but you know that it won’t be good when Tucker and Riley come back. 

“What is going on here!?” 

He spins around, “Tucker, hey man.” 

“You two are not doing what I think you’re doing. Are you?” 

“Tucker,” you slowly say, trying to see if he’s calm enough to talk. 

He takes off chasing Ben. 

Riley and you sit on the couch, letting the two men run throughout the apartment. 

“Do you ever plan on helping him?” 

You nod, “I do but I can’t do it now when Tucker is still pissed.” 

She nods, “makes sense.” 

Bonnie comes in, raising a brow at the volume of the apartment. “Anybody want to explain to me what’s going on.” 

You shake your head. “Tucker found out about her and Ben.” 

“Riley!” 

“Like it was going to be a secret.” 

“That doesn’t give you the right to share my information with everyone.” 

“Ben! Get back here!” 

“No, you want to hurt me!” The younger Wheeler man runs into the living room, past his bedroom. 

“You two stop it right now. Ben, come here.” Bonnie grabs Ben before he can run past you three. “Why are you trying to kill, Ben? So, what if your friend is sleeping with him. It just proves she has a bad type.” 

You snicker. 

“Hey.” 

She turns to face her son. “Am I wrong?” 

He doesn’t say anything and alerts his gaze. 

“And you can’t be upset when she is a grown adult who can make her own decisions.” 

“But-” 

She puts her hand up and shouts, “ah! Do not interrupt me when I'm on a role. You two, say you’re sorry.” They’re reluctant to do so until Bonnie gives them a look. 

“Sorry.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Good. Now, you,” she turns to you. “Say you’re sorry.” 

“What? Why me?” 

“Because you two decided to go at it like bunnies behind everyone’s back.” 

“But I-” 

“Say you’re sorry so Tuck Tuck can sleep at night.” 

You sigh and push yourself off the couch to stand in front of your best friend. “Tucker, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that I’ve been seeing Ben but I’m not sorry for moving to the big apple because now I get to see you and all of these crazy people you call family.” 

His expression doesn’t change until he wraps his arms around you. 

“I was hoping for more screaming.” 

You glance over your shoulder. “Shut up, Riley.” 

She raises her hands. 

“Does this mean I can cuddle my-” 

“No, I’d like to keep whatever innocence I have left,” Tucker tells his friend. 

“Oh, I can’t spend time with my girlfriend, but you can bring home a hooker? How is that fair?” 

“You just can’t let that go, can you?” 

“Not really, no.” 

Tucker shakes his head. “Now that this problem is solved. I’m going to go pour grandma a glass of chardonnay before I get ready to sit down for Emma’s afternoon tea party.” She smiles at her granddaughter as she walks into the kitchen. 

“Oh, mom.” 

“Yes, Benji?” 

“Could you watch Emma for like ten minutes?” 

You raise a brow. 

“Okay, for maybe like twenty minutes while we go out?” 

Before she can protest, he grabs your hand and pulls you towards the door. 

“No, thank you, mom. We’ll see you guys later.” 

The door slams shut. 

-

You giggle and cover your mouth, not wanting him to hear you. 

“And that is how you get people to babysit so you can go on a date.” 

“That was dumping your child onto your friends and family so you could get laid.” 

“I think my explanation was better.” 

“Of course, you do.” 

You two enter the elevator. 

“Where are you taking me?” 

“Somewhere you’ll like. You’ve just got to trust me.” 

“Take me away, Benjamin.” 

He groans. “Don’t call me that.” 

“It’s your name.” 

“Yeah, but you make it sound like I’m in trouble.” 

“Maybe you are.” 

“I didn’t do anything wrong.” 

“Or so you think.” 

He calls out for you as you walk through the elevator. “Come back here.”

[rraaaannnn]

Spiderwoman

I woke up with cat fur in my nose

’’uh…rin’’

My roommate's cat, I'm used to waking up like this

sneeze

sneeze

sneeze

have a mild allergy to cats

"Where's your mom, did she go to dance lessons early?"

"'Meow’’

I opened the window and gave the cat a treat, without her mother knowing, then went to take a shower

used to sing in the shower, to see out the bathroom window…

''Rin…What are you doing outside?''

Wait, I left the window open

I screamed as I turned off the shower and tried to put some clothes on, I couldn't even dry myself

I looked out the bedroom window to see that it was two blocks away

There is no time, if I am late the cat will be lost and the owner will kill me

put on the mask, took the bag and flew into the sky

I also took a cat mask, because if the owner knew her cat, she would kill me without a doubt. How will she know it's her cat? I do not know either. The same situation happened and I had to help her. I brought her a cat, but it wasn't her. Perhaps I recognized her from her eyes or the mother's intuition, as she says

I made a spider mask for a cat for her one year old birthday

When I stood on the building, a step separated me from the cat

Rin started running and jumping to the second building, this cat knows how to make me angry, when I tell her to get away from my bed she acts like she has no legs and becomes the laziest cat, now she is faster than me, since when are cats faster than spiders?

"Rin please…''

I caught up with her, I didn't expect she threw herself out of the building

"No!’’

I threw my spider web to the electric pole, I managed to catch Rin, it spun in the air and then landed on the ground

''Meow!’’

''Who are you yelling at?”

I took her mask out of the bag and put it on, before someone saw and filmed and the owner saw her and killed me

put the cat in the bag, I decided to discipline Rin not to run away again

I kept putting my spider web on the buildings and spinning and somersaulting in the air

"'Meow meow!’’

''you deserve it!''

It landed on our bedroom window

I took it out of the bag, Rin looked dizzy

“Oh what’s wrong little Rin, I guess it wasn’t a good trip for you''

''Meow!meow…’’

She scratched my face and went down to the floor of the room

''Oh-ouch,that hurts’’

After I moved my hand away from my face, to see the cat is in the hands of its owner, and the owner looks at me with a look without expressions, but I know that she is surprised at me

Kang Haerin

''haer-hi…hi I think your cat accidentally got out of the window''

She's still looking at me

“Hah heh, I guess I'll go. See you later-”

''Hey, wait''

froze in my place

''What happened? How did Hyein get out of the room?''

''I think that stupid cats like that would come out at any moment, I think Rin is the stupidest one anyway''

Wait a second, damn I hope she doesn't notice

She rested her eyes

"Yn…’’

''Nice to meet you yn, nice name''

I know I'm the worst at fixing things, but I keep denying

She smiled angrily

''Yn…what the hell! "

give in easily when the topic is with her

''What?''

''There's a dumbass that will be you.''

''Why?-''

''You leave the window open and then hyein runs away, you follow her and endanger her, then you call her by the name you created, you stand at the window with a spider mask without wearing a suit, wearing my favorite hoodie''

''Your hoodie!''

I started touching the hoodie like it was the only thing I could hear

"Yn!’’

''What…?''

I said in a soft voice

"I'm your roommate for a whole year, why didn't you tell me?"

Disappointment in her eyes

"Sorry, I was in a hurry. My hair didn't even dry. I didn't notice it was a hoodie."

''yn…I wasn't just talking about the hoodie''

She sighed deeply, then lowered her cat and approached me

''We're not an official thing yet, but the simple admiration between you and me was enough to make me frustrated at your hiding the fact that you're Spider-Woman''

She looked deeper into my eyes when I didn't answer her

“Do you remember when the bathroom door closed on me, and I trusted you and told you the story of my first dead cat, and a lot of stories about me even though I don’t like to talk much?”

You know Haerin is a quiet, shy introvert, it was difficult at first for her to open up to you, you knew how hard it was for her, you wanted to hug her and confess everything to her, about your work as Spider-Woman, about the hard work you agreed to, it was hard for you no one was allowed to know, your family wasn't allowed, your friends weren't allowed, you were hurting by yourself physically and mentally, and the fact that the person you've liked for so long is hurting by you

I took off the mask and looked at her. I couldn't stop myself from looking at her lips, the small distance between me and her made my heart beat like crazy

She slowly started to move away from me

Sorry, please, I'm not allowed, don't go, understand my situation, please

..

Part 2? Give me any idea with any idol because I'm bored😵‍💫

[clonerightsagenda]

Sick

We're most of the way through disability pride month and I'm not sure if I'll ever finish this WIP because I'm stuck over how literal to make some of the elements. So, I am posting it because I am curious if any of the weirdness resonates with other people. Enjoy my magical disability cure codependent haunting thing, and also I am going to post a rambling author's note about it.

The morning after the surgery, your Sick is sitting at the kitchen table. It looks good, for a corpse. It’s wearing the ‘I love dying and being dead’ t-shirt you joked about buying two diagnoses ago, pulled over a laced-shut hospital gown.

“What?” it asks. “You had more of a sense of humor when you were sick.”

The doctors warned you that your neurochemistry might be out of balance. You’re adjusting to the sudden lifting of brain fog after moving through the world in a protective cocoon of pharmaceuticals. They didn’t mention hallucinations.

“Think of me like a phantom limb.” Your Sick sips one of those awful plant-based protein drinks that still lurk in the back of your pantry. “Why did you do it?”

Talking to hallucinations probably makes them worse. You do it anyway. “You were killing me.”

“This world is killing you. But you finished yourself off first.”

You sit down across from it in one effortless motion. “That’s not what happened.”

“Right. I’m the enemy. So it doesn’t matter if I’m rotting at the bottom of a biohazard bin.” It considers you. “What’s it like not to hurt?”

What is it like? You’d woken up and lain there for a while, waiting. “Like holding my breath.”

“You’re in charge of all that now.” It nods, the motion referencing the length of your body. “Need to stay on top of it.”

“Like I need advice from you,” you say, but you blink, and the phantom’s gone.

60,000 pieces of microplastic. 7.2 micrograms per liter of per- and polyfluoroalkyl substances. 1:640 antinuclear antibody titer.

That's what they peel you out of. A second nervous system of petroleum products and misfiring T cells, the stuff that's been running your life via mob rule for a decade. They tell you that you weigh five grams less now.

They tell you, don't be surprised if at first it feels like something is missing.

I thought that was just for rich people, your friend says. She messaged you to remind you to take your meds, and you told her that you would never have to take your meds again. Celebrities and politicians.

Work decided it was cheaper to fix me than replace me, you message back. Score one for being essential.

Perks of your top-secret job.

I promise it's boring. Critical infrastructure usually is.

Did you look?

Some people share post-op pictures. They’re usually underwhelming if you don’t know what to look for - the subtle swelling over an aggravated nerve, hints of boniness in the knuckles. Shadows of bruises that never go away. No. I should’ve, though. I asked for hospital socks when they were prepping me but then obviously after I didn’t have them anymore. Who knows if I’ll get another chance.

You might be finished with surgeries forever and you’re disappointed because you can’t get any more grippy socks.

I'll miss the warm blankets too.

Your Sick crawled inside you when you were nineteen years old. It wouldn’t let you get out of bed.

“Help,” it croaked.

Your roommate (only your roommate then) came the second time it called. She was in her pajamas, her hair a dark tangle. You never asked for her help, even when your hands got so sore you couldn’t open jars without five minutes of struggle. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t feel right,” it said.

Her face softened. “I thought you looked rough yesterday. I don’t have class this morning; do you want me to make something? Call anybody?”

No, you tried to say. I can handle it.

“I think I need to go to the doctor,” your Sick said instead.

You had been putting it off. The doctor meant admitting something was wrong, meant – most importantly – a $30 copay. But healthy people never understand when you try to tell them. At a certain point, your body stops being yours.

Your Sick turned up its nose at greasy slices of campus pizza. It politely but firmly refused invitations for a night out. It sanded the branching tree of your life into a wooden sphere it could cup in the palm of its hand.

“You’re ruining my life,” you told the mirror.

It tilted your head. You read your own confusion. “I’m protecting you.”

“Mask,” your Sick says from behind you. It looks worse today – skin gone gray and patchy, with a shimmer of microplastic shards risen to the surface like body glitter. The shine complements the sequined mask secured over its own face.

You scowl, bag swung over one shoulder. You haven’t gone out since the surgery – you can work from home, you haven’t canceled grocery delivery yet – and now that you’re venturing through your front door, the phantom is back. You had reached for one of the masks on the table by the door before dropping it back into the bowl. “I don’t need it now.”

“So respiratory diseases don’t exist anymore? Dumbass.”

The objection reminds you of your own aggrieved complaints: why don’t people plan events with us in mind, don’t they know how many people there are with immune systems one shove away from collapsing, the world’s not getting any safer.

That was your Sick talking. You don’t have to worry anymore.

“You weren’t doing a good job taking care of me before, and you’re not doing a good job of it now.”

Its eyebrows rise. Black liquid has seeped through the cloth of its mask. “And fuck everyone else like you?”

“Like you,” you say, and slam the door in its face.

Outside, the breeze brushes your cheeks. You don’t have to sit down because you miscalculated the balance of meds and breakfast. You start to scan your surroundings for bathrooms, just in case, and then dismiss the impulse because you’re fine.

You’re better than that.

Three hours in, you realize you’ve been curling your fingers into a fist and then opening them again. You only notice because the joints start to ache. It feels familiar.

Nothing else does.

A notification flashes in the corner of your screen. There’s new activity in one of the forum conversations you’ve been following.

It’s rich people doing what they always do. Wreck the planet? It’s fine, we can get a new one! Wreck your body? It’s fine, we can get a new one of that too. There’s no incentive to improve the situation if you can buy your way out of the problem.

I’d buy my way out too, but there’s no way I could afford it

Then you’d eat your first plastic salad and get sick again. See what I mean?

The new ones are supposed to be more resilient

But it’s not yours

Remember any theological debates go in the quarantine thread

I don’t mean it like that. I just think you’re interfering with your relationship with your body, and that’s a fundamental part of who you are, right? Whether or not a s*ul exists

There’s not a bot monitoring this thread. You don’t have to censor it.

Sorry, habit

Mod is human, asterisks don’t stop me. But they are a screenreader issue, so please edit your post.

You used to frequent disability forums. They had useful resources. Jokes, too, like the t-shirt your Sick wears over its hospital gown. But you can’t understand the people who embrace their disfunction. You took a time-honored approach to your medical misfortune. Cancer. Pregnancy. Demonic possession. Petrochemicals. There is something inside me, and I want it out.

These people helped you, but you don’t need them anymore. So instead of saying anything, you log off the forum for the last time.

You do tell your coworkers, who are excited for you. They pester you with questions over Slack: How long did it take? Did you look? Does it hurt?

Your boss messages you, When can you come back to the office?

You frown at the screen. The work you’ve been doing from home is good – better than what you’ve produced for years now that your head is clear. But your boss has always been old fashioned. Remote work was a concession that there’s no justification for now.

Monday, if you want, you type back.

That gets you an immediate thumbs up reaction, followed by, We’re all so glad you’re ok.

That chafes you in a spot rubbed raw. Everyone assumes once the problem they know about has been addressed, everything else must be resolved too. You must be ok.

Which you are, this time.

Your best friend comes to visit. She brings beers you couldn’t drink with your meds and a greasy pizza that settles in your stomach like a snake planning to strike later. It tastes amazing – you run your tongue over your teeth to capture the last traces of salty richness and tell yourself next time your body will recognize good food.

She’s spent the whole visit on your sofa. You have an air mattress from when she used to sleep on your floor while you were recovering from surgeries. She hasn’t asked you to bring it out, and you’re not sure how to ask if she’s staying. Instead you keep stealing glances at her, the curve of her cheek that’s the first thing you’d see when you looked over the side of your bed in the middle of the night, the hands that have held your hair back from the toilet bowl and now rest on her lap.

She keeps looking at you too. You wonder if she sees a difference.

After the silence and sidelong glances build into an itchy layer on your skin, you lean over, clutch the front of her shirt, and kiss her. She freezes and then kisses you back, gingerly, the way you'd investigate an unexpected bruise. There’s pizza grease on both your lips. Rich and unfamiliar.

You’re the one who pulls away. "I'm sorry," you say. "That's not what I want."

She’s stiff under her softness, like an examination table. "I didn’t think so. I didn't think you did that kind of thing."

You don’t. It’s the silence. Your empty floor. Her hands, resting on her lap. "I just thought…” you try. “That kind of closeness is enough for everyone else."

Your fingers are still clenched in her shirt. She looks at them until you untangle them, one by one. The knuckles don’t ache.

She shakes her head. "It's like you don't want to be better."

“That went well,” your Sick says after the door swings shut.

“It’s your fault.”

It tilts its head on a neck that’s looser than it should be. “I didn’t do anything.”

It’s right. When you were sick you could request a shoulder rub to loosen tight muscles or hike up your shirt, no seduction, no bullshit, to ask if that rash looked bad. You could open your mouth and let the truth of your predicament outweigh prudishness or shame.

You don’t know how to ask people to touch you anymore.

It leans in close. “You need me,” it says. Oil bubbles over its lips and slicks its chin. “I was always your excuse.”

That weekend you watch your phone sit silent on the table, no pings from forum posts or medication reminders. Your Sick drifts over. It’s no longer a rotting corpse leaking garbage. It looks dead in the way you used to whenever you looked in the mirror.

Wherever it is in the real world, it doesn’t look like that anymore. From what you remember from the booklets they gave you, it’s already gone.

“Not going to explain yourself, huh?” asks your hallucination. Your haunting.

You shrug. What would you say to her? I took away the foundation of my life and don’t know what’s underneath. You only started being my friend when I needed help, so what’s left for us? There was always another medication or appointment or symptom but now everything’s fine and I’m still holding my breath.

You’ve gotten used to letting someone else talk for you.

“I was killing you,” it says.

That’s what you said. You look at the lines around its eyes and imagine a billion tiny swords raised against invaders that poured in every time you took a breath to light your joints up with friendly fire. “You were protecting me.”

“I was the worst part of you.”

“You were.” You flex your perfect, painless fingers. “Do I miss it?”

It grins and leans against the back of your chair, wrapping chilly arms around your waist. “I just wanted to make you say it.”

The grip around your belly aches in a way you recognize. Dull pain that makes its home in you. Cozy as curling up in bed with a headache. You look back at your silent phone. “Which one of us did she come here for?”

“Only one way to find out.”

You could reach out, but you don’t move. You have never known how to ask for help.

Your Sick sighs. It loosens its grip and reaches over your shoulder to lace corpse-cool fingers between yours. Then it lifts your combined hands in a swoop like the first dose of anesthesia, when the orderlies wheel you away and everything is out of your control. “Come on,” she says. Her breath is a puff of disinfectant on your cheek. “Let’s do it like we used to.”

After you came out of the anesthesia, the surgeons asked if you wanted to see your old body. You said no. You’d spent long enough inside it – it was something you wanted to leave behind. Besides, even after all the pamphlets and counseling sessions, you worried seeing your vacant face would jar something loose. Convince you like those cranks on the disability forums that you’d severed a connection that was irrevocable.  

If you could do it again, you’d say yes. Step inside the morgue – no, they wouldn’t have moved it to the morgue yet, they’d want you to have a better venue to say goodbye – and catalogue the subtle changes only you could see. The swollen knuckles, flushed cheeks. All the other differences locked inside.

You imagine bending down and lifting the body the way it lifted you once, cradling its head in the crook of your arm. Imagine kissing your Sick and feeling poisonous tendrils creep down your throat to coat your insides with grime.

You imagine saying, welcome home.

(Author's note)

[dianapana]

SH Day 1 – Waiting for you – Right person wrong time

Hellos, I am once again back from the dead. I wrote this day a bit in advance, but for the rest of them I may be a bit slow. I'll still try my best! Have a wonderful SH month Everyone!

~Love Dia.

TW: Unfulfiled love

~

“Was it a bad day?”

Hinata’s hand extended to tuck some of his bangs behind his ear. His face is red and sweaty, hair sticking to it. He’s beyond drunk. The owner of the bar contacted her asking for someone to come retrieve the buzzed gentleman.

But Sasuke does not wish to leave yet.

So here she is, an unsuspected Wednesday night having a drink with him too.

“You could say so”

Muttering, his head barely held up by his hand on his cheek. Eyes closed.

“Work related?”

Sasuke is a private detective. So even when he does have bad workdays, he can never truly vent to her. He has way too many signed NDAs for that. A simple nod from the man tells her that there will be no further questions from her.

Moving her stool a bit closer to his. Caressing his back softly, guiding his head onto her shoulder. She can’t give him more comfort that this. Letting him know she’s there. That’s who they are, who they’ve always been since university when they met through some common friends.

Friends, best friends, the closest of friends.

“Come. Let’s go. I’ll take you to my place.”

Probably he does not want to be alone for today.

Sasuke stumbling to sit up. “Won’t that be an issue?”

A genuine and reasonable question. Her boyfriend has made a few comments about her friendship with Sasuke, shown jealousy. Tiny frown on her lips.

“It’s alright. He won’t” shaking her head vehemently. She’s unsure but won’t think about it now.

It hurts that now there are such questions that need to be asked when they used to simply show up at each other’s place without a second guess. She could take him to his place, knows his pin code, has a key to it. But…

*

Hinata is preparing breakfast for both of them, Sasuke probably still asleep in the bed, or if he is awake he’s dealing with a huge hangover. She did leave some ibuprofen and water on the nightstand for him.

As she pours the egg mixture in the pan to make some scrambled eggs, she can hear the shower running. So, he’s awake.

“How are you feeling? You were quite drunk yesterday.”

He’s putting a white t-shirt on, already has on sweatpants. Yes, he has multiple clothing items at her place.

“I feel oddly fine.” His head is killing him, Hinata looks at him with a knowing gaze. She remembers how badly he reacts to alcohol the next day, have seen it all in university. He too knows how she acts when drunk.

They’ve both seen each other at their highest, were there holding the other’s hand when they got their dream job, got the scholarship money they needed and so on. But they were there just the same when they were at their low, failed grades, evictions from dorm rooms due to some fights with roommates.

But most importantly, they were there at each other’s lowest. When Neji was killed in an accident by a drunk driver, when Sasuke’s father almost lost his life on duty as a police officer.

No matter how many partners either of them went through, Hinata is still his emergency contact, she’s the one his phone calls automatically when pressing the unlock button three times.

“Here; have some food. It may help”

*

Hinata is a high school English and art teacher, thankfully her university roommate Sakura also works at the school as the nurse so they always eat lunch together.

Today Sakura seems to be flinching and acting odd, she opens up her mouth multiple times but does not say anything. Hinata observes and lets it go for a while, but even her patience does not last forever.

“What’s wrong?”

Green uncertain eyes looking at her.

“I’m not supposed to tell you this.”

???? “Umm…ok?” confused, but if Sakura can’t tell her, who is she to insist.

“But I feel like I should!” Frustrated hand through pink hair.

“I’ll tell you. But you can’t blame me for ruining the surprise, ok? I just…I just feel like you should know…”

“Umm…ok” Same answer as before. Hinata’s anxiety raising too. What could Sakura know that is tormenting her so?

“Ok.” Multiple nods. “Here it goes.

…

Kiba is going to ask you to marry him.” Whisper-scream from the woman and then she covers her mouth, as if she cannot believe herself the words she just let out, somewhat regretting having told Hinata.

Her own heart beating at a rate that is truly scary. She’s happy, of course she is. She loves him, why else would she be dating him? But…but there’s still a tiny part of her that feels…sad.

“That’s amazing” Finally answering the secret. Putting her sadness away. She’ll deal with it at another time.

Hand over her heart. “That’s amazing”

Sakura’s shoulders relax. “It is! I just- I know that…”

But she doesn’t say anything after. There’s no need for her to. Hinata knows what she means. They talk about it more. Hinata asks her how she knew, Sakura tells her how Kiba ask her to take Hinata to get her nails done by the end of the month, and that she knows what that means. That she told him congratulation and he blushed shyly but proudly.

*

Home at the end of her day, eyes closed as she lays in bed. The room still smells of booze a bit, but mostly it smells of Sasuke.

She can’t help but think of their university days. Their last year, when she finally became aware of her feelings for him. When she’d look at him for seconds too long, think of him even when he was not there.

How one time when it was just them, when her head was resting on his shoulder she almost reached over to hold his hand. But fear is a much stronger feeling for her than love ever was. She feared rejection, feared ruining their 4 year long friendship.

They’ve also each dated multiple people throughout their friendship, how there was almost never a time period in which both of them were single. That each time she almost got the courage to do something she’d cower in fear. So, she just waited. Waiting for him to give her a signal, waiting for him to make a move. And it just never happened.

She was still waiting until 2 years ago when she met Kiba, when she started dating him casually, but now…now he’s the one she calls first after a hard day. He’s the one she thinks about the most.

Hands covering her face. Fading unfulfilled love is not what she thought her and Sasuke would turn into.

*

Hinata is melancholic and thinks about all of their interactions for the following few days. So when Sasuke calls her, asking her to come over she still has all those thoughts into her mind.

Arms around him the moment the door opens. Sasuke taken aback, chuckling. Asking ‘Did you miss me that much’ jokingly. But when she doesn’t reply his heart rate spikes up, pushing her slightly to look at her face, a few unshed tears into her eyes.

“Hinata? What’s wrong?” Cubbing her cheek, wiping her tear away with his thumb.

Her eyes closed, heart heavy and confused. Fear makes her fingertips numb, but she cannot back down now, she needs to know, it’s important. She cannot answer Kiba’s question with a truthful and enthusiastic ‘yes’ unless they talk about this, unless they move on.

“I loved you” Her words echoing into the hallway. A moment of silence that urges her to open her eyes and look up at him, he has a sad smile on his lips.

“I know. I loved you too”

Her whole body is tingling, shocked. “What?”

Sasuke caresses her hair and pulls her into a hug.

“I didn’t know all along. I suspected at times, but then you’d turn around and do things that made me believe I was a narcissist for thinking you might feel the same. I was waiting for you to say or do something, tell me I wasn’t wrong.

But time went on and…well…”

Her mouth wide open, fist clenched, and she hit his shoulder. “I was waiting for YOU!”

More frustrated with both of them than anything else.

“By the time I realized that perhaps my feelings were indeed reciprocated, so many things happened, so much time passed and it felt like a shame…to change”

Looking at him somewhat in disbelief.

“Kiba asked me to marry him” He didn’t yet but that’s just details. “I said yes” she didn’t yet but she will.

Sasuke’s smile dims a bit, but he hugs and congratulates her nevertheless.

They remain in a hug for a long time before she breaks the silence.

“We both said loved. In the past”

“I still love you, but it is different now…”

Small nod. She agrees. She feels the same. The feelings faded in time, no longer having a romantic aspect to them.

They both waited for each other, but the wait was just too long

~

@sasuhinamonth

[bellarkeandclintashaandsuch]

I finally watched episodes 1-4 of Only Friends. I think it’s a show that’s well done, well acted, well directed, pretty, etc. But I don’t like any of these couples. So please feel free to ignore the rest of this while I ramble. I just need to get this out. I do like the show! It’s very entertaining!

And I do like Sand and Ray. But I prefer Ray and Mew. How do they want me to watch Ray calling Mew, crying, to tell him he loves him, seconds away from killing himself, and not expect me to ship them? Insane. And for Mew to say he’ll never abandon Ray, only for Ray to end up drinking in a bathtub again, feeling abandoned. Unforgivable, show. ☹️

Here’s my bad opinions because my brain doesn’t want me to just be happy and enjoy the messy, sexy show, so please don’t take offense or take it too seriously. I swear my brain likes to undermine my enjoyment of television.

Nick is creepy. Looking through his customer’s phone. Wiretapping his FWB’s car. Playing the tape of two people having sex for his roommate. At least he acknowledges that he’s nasty, I guess.

Ton is messing with Ray, Mew, and Top. Mew and Ray are supposed to be his friends. Mew does not deserve that. And I’m not sure how much Ton and Cheum know about Ray almost killing himself, or if they just know he was in a bad place, but if Ton does know, that’s really messed up for him to manipulate Ray like that and open him up to being rejected again if he knows Mew already rejected him once and that Ray is really sensitive to feeling unloveable and like a burden. I do still enjoy watching Ton try to manipulate people, though.

Top gives me such a smarmy feel. I don’t know if he’s supposed to, though. Or if that’s just a me problem. Like it’s hard for me to believe that he really does like Mew, but I think I am supposed to believe that. But the audacity of him telling Mew he has nothing to hide when he just slept with one of Mew’s friends is hilariously awful. And he slept with Ton because of a photo of Mew kissing Ray two years ago. And didn’t even bother to talk to Mew first. Also throwing out one packet of drugs does not mean you’ve quit.

Cheum seems great. Although she was a little pushy with Mew having a boyfriend. But she’s cute with her gf.

Sand, I do love. He’s great. My only issue with him is that he was mad at Ray for leaving to help Mew. Disappointed, sad, let down, that’s understandable. But would you really want to be with someone who prioritizes having sex with you over helping a friend who has nowhere to spend the night? But overall he’s great. And him not like Top is a strike against Top.

Mew, I also love. I don’t get what he sees in Top, though. And in terms of his list of requirements. Ray, yes, did kiss him in his sleep. But he apologized and does feel bad genuinely and he really does respect Mew. He is Mew’s friend and gets along with all his other friends. And I thought the only secret he was keeping was his crush on Mew, but Mew already knew that. So ✔️✔️✔️ Whereas, Top does not respect him, or he would’ve talked to him about Ray before having sex with Ton. Ray hates Top, so as Mew’s most beloved friend, that’s another fail. And he definitely has secrets. So ❌❌❌ So if you want a rich boy, Mew… also of course, Ray was wrong to kiss Mew. But separately from that event, over the past two years, I do think that Mew (and Ton and Cheum) should take more care in general with Ray, knowing his mental health history. I don’t think it’s reasonable of Mew to expect their friendship can be the same as it was, at least until he knows for a fact that Ray has moved on. So I don’t he should be calling Ray his most beloved friend or be as affectionate with Ray or talk to him about how happy he wants Ray to be, knowing how Ray feels. That sucks from Mew’s perspective, but he has to know that’s not helping Ray get over him. That’s just going to make it hurt more when he turns him down again. It’s not Mew’s fault that he feels that way, but Mew shouldn’t expect that nothing will change. But then again, after promising to never abandon him, if Ray and Mew ended up not being as close, I would have murder in my heart. So either way is a lose-lose for me. Also it was cruel of him to say Top is the first person to make his heart tremble. Hon, just say, yep really like him. And it’s not nice of him to keep trying to push Ray on Sand to make himself feel better about not liking Ray back. But more broadly, Mew, Ton, and Cheum go out drinking all the time with their friend who clearly has a drinking problem, and also apparently, a drug addiction and they just pawn him off on each other, knowing he feels like a burden. His mental health isn’t their responsibility, but maybe they could consider inviting Ray to some events that don’t involve drinking and partying once in a while.

And Ray. Ray is my favorite. My poor (in all but money), sad, lonely, lovestruck boy. I adore him. He’s always smiling, but dead inside. He has no one but Mew to be his emergency contact, even though he talks about his dad often. I can’t blame him for loving Mew. He feels like a burden to everyone, thinks everyone hates him, and Mew is over here giving him sun themed keychains and telling him he brings brightness, that he’s a ray of sunshine. How do you not fall in love? And it has to hurt to see that the person Mew is falling for is so much like him, except worse. I think he genuinely likes Sand, too. But I just don’t think it would work. Because he seeks Sand out when he’s upset about Mew. And that’s just not fair to Sand or Ray himself.

In conclusion, I think the best way to go is RayMewSand, even though I just said Ray and Sand wouldn’t work (Mew does seem to pay a lot of attention to Sand, calling him lovely [jealous of not having Ray’s attention perhaps? 🤫]) to make everyone (me) happy. And also TonTop so they don’t inflict their garbage on anyone else. And Nick gets no one because he does have sad eyes, but I draw the line at looking through a customer’s personal photos and masturbating to them to boot.

[mysadnotsolittlelife]

I’m sick of this. My brother is bitchin about how dirty my place is like wtf you fucking squatter the second I get up to do some cleaning he complains about the noise like how do you expect me to keep the place clean

I can’t even fucking eat in my own house until he wakes up which is like fucking 3 pm or smth

How are you gonna fucking tell me how to live my life in my own apartment that I pay with my own money!?!??

Yeah and he proceeded to tell me that I look like a fucking cow and I got huge 🙄SMFH

I’m so ducking tired it’s been almost a month since he came here I think

YOU FUCKED ME UP IT WAS ALL YOU! WHO I AM RIGHT NOW ITS ALL BECAUSE OFF YOU. HOW MUCH I HATE MYSELF HOW I CUT MYSELF HOW I USED TO STARVE MYSELF HOW I OVEREAT NOW IT IS ALL YOUR FUCKING FAULT you fucked me up you did all off that and I fucking hate you I fucking hate you and everything about me is your fault

and I can’t even cry rn BECAUSE IM SHARING A FUCKING ROOM WITH MY MOM!!!

I moved out when I was 19 to get rid off everyone to be alone and not deal with my fucking so called family I’m 21 now WHY IS EVERYONE MOVING IN WITH ME!????! First it was mom it was bad but okay yk now my brother and I want to kill myself and my dad is also thinking about moving in with us LIKE?!!!? WHAT!?!?? Is everyone trying to see me killing myself ??

I’d rather go back to my dorm room with my 3 racist and homophobic roommates

[sunchaserwings]

Guess I am liveblogging watching the BBC Sherlock. I can't help myself apparently. Starts after the cut, (I finally figured out how those work!)

Mild spoilers ahead!!!!!

Okay so I just started episode 2. First things first, girl, you could just tell him "No" instead of being all cryptic like "You wouldn't like me" and "I can't. Please stop asking" when he's asking you on a date.

Is... is that a katana being wielded by that person??? It doesn't even look well-cared for?

Roommate: "I can see Herlock trying to hide he's been attacked like that." Yeah, probably. He'd kick a katana underneath his chair. Unfortunately, his "Watson" would notice.

Okay I hate that people keep calling Sherlock a freak and every time I expect Watson to deck a guy. Come on, defend your colleague if you're not willing to call him your friend. Also, seeing this episode when I work as a security guard is kind of killing me. I... this security setup is not that good at all, even back in 2010 and this is supposed to be an expensive ass bank??? Yeahhh, kinda doesn't do it for me. That should be live video footage, not a single frame every minute. Also don't keep access to the door entry logs behind the reception counter.

Part of the only way I'm getting through this is by noting what behaviors of Sherlock match those of Herlock Sholmes from The Great Ace Attorney Chronicles and which are more faithful to the original source material as well. Do I need to start keeping a running counter of "Herlock Sholmes would totally do this"? Because if so, we're at three in this episode alone.

Sir??? The medical examiner should be the only one removing evidence from the interior of the body??? Sherlock please, forensics student here is dying. Also detail I noticed, no powder burn on the wound. Either the makeup team was lazy or this is plot important.

Watson is still my favorite character. He also mentioned stuff about traders and stuff which is accurate to the books. And ohhh, Sherlock is pissed. Shaky cam in this feels a bit excessive-- oh you look like Kane Bullard. Yeah you're dead. Does every journalist leave library books on their flat stairs or...?

Modern code-breaking methods won't unravel what? Poor Watson getting held up for vandalizing a public building because he didn't run fast enough. Feels like Herlock and Ryūnosuke lol.

Oh come on, this guy seems sweet. Don't blame him for his crush resigning. Unless he's the killer of course... oh there's a lady taking pictures of Watson? That's worrying. WAIT IS THE DETECTIVE INSPECTOR JUST HANDING OVER EVIDENCE TO A RANDOM CIVILIAN??? CHAIN OF EVIDENCE, I HARDLY KNOW HER!

Watson actually helping Sherlock with his deductions by pointing out something the detective didn't notice and in an almost book-accurate way.

Is Watson about to be poisoned I s2g this man needs a break. It's only the second episode. Oh adding another to the "Sherlock doing a Herlock move" counter. Yippee... also this episode is starting to feel kind of racist. Actually more than that.

Sherlock please go let Watson in-- never mind you uh.... fell for a trap. I don't like how independent this Sherlock is when he's got John right there. Why doesn't the doctor realize that Sherlock was choked and strangled half to unconsciousness??? Unrealistic af.

Kinda like this graffiti artist dude. Hope he comes back. He probably won't. WAIT WHY ARE YOU SPLITTING THE PARTY??? GODDAMMIT YOU TWO! WATSON YOU'RE BETTER THAN THIS!

John shouldn't be staring at the ground like that. He should be scanning side to side and up and down constantly. At least he was smart enough to take a photo of the damn thingimajig. John is so relatable on the matter of sleep, at least.

This woman is so dedicated to her work of restoring these ancient relics that she keeps breaking into the museum to care for and restore them. Also I just learned where the Morag Tong from the Elder Scrolls get their name from. Makes sense now. Buuuuut this also feels really awkward and weird and not in the fun way.

I think we all know Watson has the real brain cell here-- wait no he just left the target alone to go help Sherlock never mind. I think she's going to die. She deserved better. Welp, this is gonna haunt John.

Scotland Yard being incompetent, check. Sherlock being an uneccesary ass to Molly, check. Why is he written like this I hate it. WAIT THOSE TATTOOS WOULD HAVE BEEN NOTED ON THE AUTOPSY REPORT WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS WRITING???? MY FORENSICS STUDENT ASS IS GOING HAYWIRE

Quest search using internet explorer. Gods this is old. No wonder last episode that "MePhone" app took so long to load. Watson update your browser to Firefox. Also Mrs. Hudson appearance! We don't know much about her in the original books but BBC her seems to be somewhat faithful adaptation wise, however Sherlock's behavior towards her is not. Oh and adding another to the Herlock Sholmes counter.

John passed out from exhaustion didn't he. Not a good look when you're just starting out-- oh at least you apologized for it-- he's flirting. Okay John you go and get yourself a girlfriend. Hope this relationship lasts (it probably won't). Looks like Sherlock is interfering with the date... goddammit. Oh fuck the second hand embarrassment is killing me.

The yellow filter is ass. Stop this. Also is that a goddamn crossbow. It is. Sarah is also... a character. I guess. Very dull and uninteresting, clearly only there for John's character arc. Is this how most — if not all — of the women are going to be?

John you're in a room with a killer that has seen your face. There is no way this ends well. Also expecting Sherlock to get a gun to his head or something. Never mind he almost gets a sword to the face. WATSON YOU'RE A BETTER FIGHTER THAN THIS-- Oh Sarah is a badass. Okay, I guess she has a bit of a character.

Sherlock you need to eat. Also please stop being an ass to Sarah she's trying to help-- in fact she's actually helping!!!

Nice callback to the first episode, Sherlock knows German! Also this is canon to the books! He knows a ton of European languages as does Watson! Although Watson's Italian is canonically worse than Holmes'.

Thats not Holmes knocking at the door. Aaaand Watson is down. Watson abducted? Is Sarah a double agent? Sherlock is going to go apeshit. Never mind Sarah isn't. This relationship isn't going to last-- creepy camera lady just called Watson "Holmes". Oh yeah, this relationship is not continuing. Sorry John.

Sherlock Holmes to the rescue! Kinda acting like Batman but this is also accurate to the books! Really nice touch to show off his ability to confound his enemies in combat. Also add one to three "John has killed a man to protect Sherlock" counter.

"Don't worry. Next date won't be like this." IF THERE IS A NEXT DATE???? WHAT????

Accidentally posted early at this point but I'm just editing the post.

PA Lady has the hairpin. Oh my God, she has the hairpin. It's over a thousand years old.

Oh look someone just left a cipher mark outside. Is this a goddamn Moriarty thing? Are they only here because of Moriarty? I need to make a separate rant about Moriarty at some point because the entirety of the Sherlock Holmes fandom just latched onto him when CHARLES MILVERTON WAS ALSO RIGHT THERE

Anyhow that's episode 2 done. Feels really kinda racist, John gets to do more but also is kinda not smart sometimes, and Sherlock is an ass. Oh and Moriarty cameo. Yippee... see y'all for episode 3 later. Sun signing off

[shinestarhwaa]

FLASH || JUNG WOOYOUNG

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Pairing: Wooyoung x fem reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings/tags: Hospital patients Wooyoung and reader, inexperienced reader, mentions of sex, mentions of death, illness (cancer), major character death, Yunho is Y/N's favourite nurse, kinda friends to lovers, tell me if I forgot anything

@anyamaris @a-soft-hornytiny @veronicasawyerschainsaw @star1117-archives @wooyoungmybelovedhusband

ENJOY!

It all had gone by in a flash, your life. You wished you had appreciated it more. Maybe if you had, you wouldn't feel so desperate to get out of his hospital bed to make memories.

You sighed deeply. 'Did I deserve this?' you frequently asked yourself. You weren't a bad person, you were sure of that. But how could you accept that your breasts were the cause of all this mess.

"Good morning, Y/N, I see you're up already!"

The cheerful nurse Yunho never failed to make you smile, at least a little. "Yeah, I am, stupid birds won't stop chirping."

"Oh come on, it's spring, it's a good thing, a happy thing, right?" Yunho said, petting your head as he examined your stats.

"You have an appointment with dr. Nakamura at 3 to talk about your treatment right?" Yunho asked as he said next to your bed.

You had been here for a while, trying to treat the cancer with chemo, but nothing worked. Now, there was a big chance your breasts had to be amputated. It killed you. You don't know why you cared so much, but they were your breasts.

Heck, no one had even touched them yet, and they were taken away from you. Who would touch you now? Ever? Kiss you? You sighed.

"Yep, gonna have a man tell me my boobies will have to fly out the window," you said as you played with the bracelet on your wrist. Never give up, it said.

A bracelet your friend had made for you, before she passed away during her brain surgery. You missed her.

"Fly out the window? That'll be a bizarre and kind of nasty thing to see. Imagine you're walking out in the garden and suddenly there's a breast."

You couldn't help but laugh. Yunho always made you laugh.

.

.

Back in your room, you laid in your bed again, while your mother hung up some pictures of you and your friends on the board behind you, after you complained about the white hospital walls.

"Look, this is better isn't it?" your mother said as she was finished with the decorations. You gave her a weak smile, appreciating the help. But you didn't have the energy to give her a real one.

She kissed the top of your head and took her bag. "I'll have to go now, pick up your brother from his training, and cook...," she sighed. You knew she hated leaving you alone.

"I'm a grown up mom, I'll be fine, go home," you said as you kissed her cheek. You said your goodbyes and sighed deeply when the door closed, only for it to open again in a matter of seconds.

"What's a girl gotta do to get a little rest and quiet in here?" you sighed.

"Well, aren't you a sunshine."

An unfamiliar voice and it's laughter filled the emptyness of the room. You looked up, and your eyes were met by a lively boy, probably around your age.

His dark hair was parted in the middle, he had warm brown eyes that twinkled as he laughed and the fullest pink lips you'd ever seen on a guy.

He was pretty.

"Y/N, meet your new roommate, Jung Wooyoung," his nurse said.

"A roommate?" You were a bit confused.

"We figured you could use one," Yunho said as he appeared leaning against the doorframe, "now you won't have to feel lonely."

.

.

"So what's up with you?" Wooyoung asked one morning. It was the end of April, a time you used to love, but now all you could do was lay in your bed and stare out of the window.

You moved your head to look at Wooyoung, who was on the right side of the room, checking the photo's he made today on his camera. He loved taking pictures of everyone, he even took a few of you. He even joked that you were his muse.

"What's up with me?" you asked, unsure if he meant your mood or your illness.

"Why are you in here? I've been here for three days and I hadn't asked yet," Wooyoung answered, placing his Nintendo on the foot of his bed, paying his attention to you.

"Breast cancer," you admitted, "I have had a few chemo's but they did zero so they're removing both tomorrow."

Wooyoung's expression saddened. "I'm sorry, you must feel horrible right now."

You nodded, saying nothing more. You'd fall apart if you talked more about yourself. It was already hard to share it with your therapist.

"Why are you here?" you finally asked.

"Bladder cancer, and it has probably spread by now," he said, quite bluntly. "Spread? Where to?" you asked curiously. "They're not sure, but they're gonna run tests and examine me to see where it is now. I was declared clean a few months back but... you know, suddenly it's back and it's growing everywhere."

The two of you were silent for a while. "I'm sorry, Wooyoung, I hope you can get better," you said, truly meaning it.

"I don't think I will... thanks, though," he smiled.

.

.

A roommate sounded fun and you appreciated the company. But you didn't know Wooyoung would be this extremely loud kid.

You started to care about him, really, he was endearing and you had fun together, running through the halls, playing pranks on nurses (mostly Yunho) and sharing lifestories.

Tonight was a rather hot night. While it was only May it felt like a hot August night, but you refused to wear anything other than the big old sweater that was actually your brothers'.

Wooyoung and you were sat on your bed, just finished playing the card game Wooyoung taught you. You won from him already four times and he was over it.

"Aren't you hot?" Wooyoung asked as he ran his hands through his hair. Not as hot as that was. This is the first time you noticed your libido rising again in months. You didn't want to admit it was because of Wooyoung though.

"Of course I am."

"Then why do you have that sweater on?"

You rolled your eyes. You figured it was obvious why. "Because I have no boobs, Wooyoung," you sighed.

Wooyoung said nothing for a little while, understanding your struggle now. "That wouldn't bother me though, I'm an ass man." You couldn't help but laugh at that. "Good to know."

"You have a pretty nice ass."

You gasped. "You've looked?" Wooyoung laughed loudly, getting a glare from the cleaner in the hall. "Of course I looked, I'm a man, I have needs. I nearly wanted to photograph it."

"You have needs?" you laughed. "Hey I have a penis, I jerk off, I've had sex!"

"What's that like?" you asked, wondering. "Sex? You haven't...?"

You shook your head. "No I haven't had sex yet. I haven't even had my first kiss yet. No one wants to kiss the freak with cancer you know."

"Tell me about it," he sighed, "I haven't gotten laid in two years. Look, I had sex three times but I'm not bad! It's not like I'll give you cancer if I fuck you, that's not how it works," Wooyoung complained.

You grabbed the playing cards and put them back in their case, throwing them on the table on the other side of the room.

"Nice shot."

"Thanks."

A few hours later the two of you laid in bed, both unable to sleep. You shifted in your bed, being uncomfortable in the way too hot green sweater. Finally you gave in and took it off, leaving you in the striped tanktop you wore under it.

"Y/N?" you heard Wooyoung's voice call out. You felt caught. "Yeah?"

"I can give you your first kiss if you want? It doesn't have to mean anything. But who's a better match for a cancer kid than another cancer kid?" Wooyoung grinned.

You thought for a moment. "It's not a bad idea," you decided. Wooyoung wanted to get up, but you saw him struggling. He must be in pain, you thought.

You quickly got up and sat on his bed. You swallowed thickly, feeling nervous and exposed. He smiled softly as he saw your sweater off. "You look just as beautiful as you did before," he admitted.

His fingers brushed against your cheek and the arm around his waist pulled you closer. Softly, he placed his lips on yours. You felt electricity in your entire body, butterflies mixing with anxiety.

Your shaky lips moved against Wooyoung's plumper, certain ones. He took the lead, holding you, calming you down.

You kissed until you practically couldn't anymore, falling asleep in his arms.

.

.

Almost every night, over the past weeks, Wooyoung and you hung out together in bed, becoming best friends. Who kiss, apparently.

But tonight you noticed Wooyoung felt different, but you thought it may just be because of his conversation with his doctor earlier today, as he found out his cancer definitely was spreading, mostly to his lymph nodes.

The two of you went to bed earlier, falling asleep soon enough. But in the middle of the night you were awakened by Wooyoung's cries and whines, and you shot up immediately.

You saw Wooyoung's screaming face, wet from his tears. Your eyes widened when you saw blood and something that definitely smelled like urine. The nurses and his father were trying to calm him down, but Wooyoung seemed to be losing it completely.

Before you could get out of bed, they took him away, to God knows where. You stared at the spots of blood and urine on the floor. He must've lost control of his bladder by now. A cleaner soon came to clean the room, and you pretended to be asleep, while you couldn't even close your eyes for a few seconds.

.

.

Wooyoung returned the next day, he had been in surgery because the doctors had found internal bleeding, and they had to bring in a catheter.

He wasn't much like the usual bright Wooyoung, he was brooding, staring at the ceiling.

"Hey, Woo," you said as you got up from your bed and sat on his, nearly sitting on the line of his catheter.

"Hi," he said, looking away, he could barely look at you.

"I know you feel embarrassed..., but it's okay, there's no need to."

"I peed myself because I couldn't hold it in and... well, I'm gonna die."

You caressed his hair. "Wooyoung..."

You wanted to console him and hold him and tell him it was nonsense. But it's not nonsense and you both knew it. His cancer spread easily, as the doctors said it and there wasn't much they could do.

"You can't," you said, tearing up, "there's so much we still need to do. I need more, I need you to teach me more... and then do it a lot of times."

"You might wanna search for another cancer kid to give you dick," he tried to joke, but he couldn't laugh.

You just laid in bed together, knowing you had fallen in love but it could never happen. He wasn't gonna make it. And you had no idea what was gonna happen to you.

"But I want you."

The two of you looked at each other with tears in your eyes, not even noticing how both your parents stood in the doorway, watching the two of you fall deeply in love with each other.

The next night your mother sat down next to your bed when Wooyoung was getting washed up. "Sweetheart, I know you and Wooyoung have feelings-"

"Mom, they're not just feelings, I'm so... in love with him, it's unfair ma!" you yelled.

You didn't mean to yell. But what could you do? She kindly stroked your hair, trying to calm you down. ''You know you'll get hurt in the end, dear.''

''I don't care if I'll get hurt, I'd rather spend all my days with him until he's gone instead of never seeing him again while I know he's still here.''

''Okay, dear, it's okay, I'm not forbidding you anything, just... try not to romanticize it, it's hard taking care of a sick perso-''

You stared at her. ''It's hard taking care of a sick person? Like me? You know what's hard? Being sick,'' you protested. ''I know, I know, honey, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that.''

You nodded, but you couldn't let it go. You hated feeling like a burden, but that's what you are, right?

.

.

''Hey, Y/N, shall we go outside and take pictures together?'' Wooyoung asked, already having his camera in his hand. You weren't totally in the mood, but seeing him getting up from his bed and sitting in his wheelchair. It broke your heart that you couldn't see him running around anymore. His legs got too weak, his body too tired.

You spend the entire afternoon in the July sun, taking pictures together and Wooyoung taking solo pictures of you, once again using you as his 'beautiful muse'.

At the end of the afternoon he was spent, although he didn't wanna admit it. His warm toned skin looked pale when he was helped back into his bed. He barely reacted to you any more, only giving you a slight smile.

In the days after that, you saw Wooyoung getting sicker, and sicker, while you were getting better, allowed to go home. Still, you came to see him every single day, spending time with him for as long as you could.

Some nights you snuck in to kiss him, feel his tongue in your neck and his hands on your ass, but at the end of the week he was out of breath too much, which made you realize his illness must be affecting his lungs by now.

''I love you,'' he breathed out weakly, his eyes filled with tears. ''I love you, Wooyoung, I'll be back tomorrow.'' You kissed him one last time, before going home.

The next morning you sat on the couch drinking a cold glass of milk. You finished your glass and put it right next to the plate with some leftover pancakes that you couldn't finish.

The livingroom door opened, making you look up. It was mrs. Jung together with your own mother. By the look on her face you already knew.

''Dear,'' she started as she sat down, ''I'm so sorry to tell you...''

''Don't... Don't tell me... Don't say it...'' you whispered.

''Wooyoung passed away in his sleep last night... He's gone, my dear,'' she spoke, as a tear rolled down your cheek. But you? You couldn't cry, you only felt empty.

Your mother and mrs. Jung held you tight, trying to console you. You looked at the time, 10:49, at the calendar, July 20th, and at the sky, blue, but with the brightest sun lighting up the world. Wooyoung.

Mrs. Jung placed Wooyoung's camera on the table. ''It's filled with photos of you, thought you'd like to keep this,'' she whispered, ''He wrote a letter a few days ago.'' Mrs. Jung handed you a pink envelope.

Your name was written in a glittery pen on the front, which made your hands shake. You opened it, pulling the letter out.

Y/N, my muse,

You have given me what no one else could

I feel unconditional love when I see your face

I always will, even from the beyond

Your lips were my heaven on earth

But from now on I'll be in heaven, far from you

I'll still watch over you always

So don't be afraid to love someone else

Don't forget to never give up

And don't forget about me

Yours,

Wooyoung

This time tears fell from your eyes, and they didn't stop.

They never truly stopped. You didn't want to accept it. The lively boy you knew, the boy you loved, he couldn't possibly be gone.

It had all gone by in a flash

[storiesforallfandoms]

rejected hearts club ~ nick miller;new girl

word count: 2514

request?: yes!

“Nick Miller fluff. Please, I am begging you, there isn’t enough Nick content. Him pining over you and getting together. Love your writing, thank you.”

description: when the guy she likes goes on a date with the girl he likes, they decide to hang out together to get over their broken hearts

pairing: nick miller x female!reader

warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption

masterlist (one, two)

The last person Nick expected to find face down on his couch was (Y/N), who was not one of his roommates but was always over since she was friends with Jess and Cece. But Jess was out on a date and Cece was at her own apartment with Schmidt, so there was no reason for (Y/N) to be here, in his apartment, laying face down on his couch, looking like a kid who dropped their ice cream.

“Uh oh,” he commented. “Face down on the couch? That usually means something’s wrong.”

“I’m said,” (Y/N) responded in a soft voice.

“Okay. I’m sorry you’re sad, but Jess is gone and I don’t really know when or if she’ll be back.”

(Y/N) rolled over onto her back and looked at Nick. He realized then that her face was puffy and there were tear stains on her cheeks.

“I can’t talk to Jess,” she said. “Which I know means I shouldn’t be here, but I helped her get ready for her date and I haven’t brough myself to leave here yet.” She looked up at Nick with sad eyes. “I’m sorry if I’m intruding.”

Nick would never tell (Y/N) she was intruding. He liked her probably the best out of Jess’ friends (not that he’d admit that in front of Cece or anything). But he was certainly not about to tell her to leave when she was clearly upset.

He made his way to the kitchen and opened the freezer. “Do you want some feel good ice cream? Jess keeps the freezer stocked with at least four different flavors.”

“Got anything stronger?”

He opened the fridge and pulled out an unopened bottle of whiskey that he knew was Schmidt’s. He poured two glasses of it and brought one over to (Y/N). She sat up and took the glass as Nick sat next to her.

“So, what seems to be the problem, champ?” he asked her.

She took a mouthful of whiskey, wincing as the liquid burned her throat.

“I’m not drunk enough to talk about it yet,” she said. “Let me get at least two drinks in and we’ll see what happens.’

It was definitely more than two drinks. About an hour later Nick and (Y/N) had finished the bottle of whiskey. Everything was spinning and they were laughing at nothing and everything. 

(Y/N) felt much better. She felt light and worry free. She wanted to feel this way for a long time. Especially when Jess got home from her date. If she came home at all.

She was lounging back on the couch with Nick on the other side, finishing the last contents of the whiskey bottle.

“Who’s whiskey did we drink?” she asked.

“How do you know it wasn’t mine?” he countered.

“For one, you’re nota whiskey type of person. And two, that - ” She nodded towards the now empty bottle they had put on the counter. “ - is way too fancy for you or Jess to have bought. My guess is Schmidt.”

“You’d be correct in your guess, and he’s definitely going to kill us for drinking it.”

(Y/N) shook her head, causing her vision to spin again. She giggled at the good feeling. “Not me. I’m Cece’s friend. That protects me.”

“Jess is Cece’s friend, too, and she’s not protected.”

“She’s your roommate first, Cece’s friend second. I’m just Cece’s friend.”

Thinking of Jess reminded (Y/N) of how she ended up in this situation, and suddenly, her happy buzz turned to a sad one.

Nick noticed the shift in her mood. He reached out a hand to softly touch her knee. She looked up at his concerned face.

“Why were you here crying on your own? And why can’t you talk to Jess about whatever it is that’s making you upset?”

(Y/N) sighed and sat herself up more. “The guy that Jess is gone on her date with; the teacher?” Nick nodded. “I...I’ve liked him for...for two years.”

“What?!” Nick exclaimed. “And you’ve never made a move? Jess made the move first?”

“It’s not like that. It’s...complicated.”

“Then uncomplicate it for me.”

God, I wish we still had whiskey left for this, (Y/N) thought.

“The guy is a math teacher in mine and Jess’ school. He started two years ago. I’ve always found him attractive, but when he first started at the school he had a fiancée, so I dropped it.”

“Good to know you’re not a homewrecker.”

“Thanks, I pride myself in that. Anyways, a few months ago he told me he broke up with his fiancée and I had this hope that maybe we could have something. Obviously I didn’t want to try and ask him out right after the break up. You don’t just end an engagement and suddenly jump into another relationship. But we started to talk more and he’d come have lunch with me in the teachers lounge. Sometimes he’d even stop by my classroom at the end of the day just to have a chat and walk me to my car. I thought...I thought he liked me. And then...Jess came up to me this week and...told me he asked her out instead.”

Nick’s heart, as cold and dead as it could be, ached for (Y/N). He could see in her face how much the situation had hurt her. Although he hadn’t spent a lot of time with her, Nick knew that (Y/N) was sweet and had a heart of gold. Any guy would be lucky to have her, but here she was, heartbroken over the guy who chose her best friend over her.

“I’m assuming Jess didn’t know,” Nick said.

“Of course she didn’t. We both know Jess would never agree to go on the date if she knew I liked him. And I could’ve told her when she told me he asked her out, but...God, you didn’t see the look on her face, Nick. She was practically glowing with excitement. This guy - this genuinely nice guy who had the same interests as her and was even a teacher like her - had asked her on a date and she was ecstatic. I didn’t want to ruin that for her.”

“Even if it meant breaking your own heart.”

(Y/N) nodded. She looked down at her lap, feeling tears pricking her eyes. It felt stupid to be this worked up over a guy. She was an adult with an adult job and adult worries, and yet she was sat here, feeling like a teenager crying over her first heartbreak.

Nick moved his hand from her leg to her own. She looked at their connected hands before looking back up at him. With his other hand, he reached out and wiped the tears from her face with his thumb.

“I feel like an idiot,” she said, her voice soft again.

“You’re not an idiot,” he said. “You really liked this guy and now your best friend is off on a date with him. You’re putting Jess’ happiness before your own, even though it hurts you. I get that.”

“You do?”

Nick nodded. “I’ve been there before.”

Realization hit (Y/N) and she buried her head in the hand that Nick wasn’t holding. “Oh man, I totally forgot you and Jess were together. This can’t be easy on you, either.”

Nick shrugged. “I’ve come to terms with the fact that it didn’t work between Jess and I, and that I can’t try to hold her back from seeing other people. It sucks because we live together so there’s no way for me to avoid the situation. I just gotta...let it happen and move on I guess.”

(Y/N) squeezed Nick’s hand and ran her thumb over his knuckles.

“I guess we’re, like, a rejected hearts club, huh?” she said, a small smile on her face.

Nick chuckled. “I guess we are. I’d drink to that, but we’re out of whiskey.”

“Do you have any beer here?”

Nick looked over at (Y/N) for a moment before declaring, “You’re, like, the perfect woman.”

She felt her face heat up as she awkwardly chuckled at Nick’s comment. “Uh, thanks.”

Nick got up and went to the kitchen to grab them both beers. (Y/N) could feel herself sobering up and she really was not ready for that. She still wanted to have some buzz happening if Jess were to arrive home, or to be so drunk that she’d pass out and wouldn’t have to face Jess so soon after the date.

“Why haven’t we hung out more, Nick?” (Y/N) asked as she took the beer from him.

Nick shrugged. “I don’t know. I figured you didn’t really want to hang out with us since you’re Jess’ friend.”

“Well, you’re sort of right there. I never wanted to hang out with Schmidt. I’m actually very shocked that Cece ever ended up with him considering how...Schmidt he was in the beginning.”

“Yeah, Schmidt is usually the one who chases off any potential female friends we could have.”

“I’ve hung out with Winston a few times, but never like this. I think the most I’ve spent time with him without Jess and Cece was maybe 20 minutes, and our conversation got stale really fast. But it’s not like that with you. I feel like it’s easy to talk to you and you’re really chill. I feel like I could spend more time with you.”

Nick gave (Y/N) a small smile. “I think I could spend more time with you, too, (Y/N).”

They looked at each other for a long time, just sat in the silence. They weren’t really sure what to say and opted to let their moment of sentiment linger in the air.

(Y/N) meant it when she said she wanted to spend more time with Nick. She had always wished she could spent time with him. The brief moments they’d have together whenever she was over with Jess, or if she was at the bar where Nick worked, were always nice. He was a nice guy regardless of the fact that he didn’t like to show that side of him.

Nick’s hand found its way to (Y/N)’s again, lacing his fingers through hers.

“You’re beautiful, (Y/N),” he admitted.

She couldn’t fight the smile that pulled at the corner of her lips. “Thank you.”

They both noticed how close their faces had gotten. They were inches away from one another. (Y/N) could feel Nick’s breath against her. She wished they both hadn’t drank so much alcohol because that’s all she could smell off of Nick, and she was sure that’s all he could smell from her, too. This would be so much more romantic if I had a mint or something.

Nick went for it first, putting a hand on the back of (Y/N)’s neck and pulling her the rest of the way to him, closing the gap between them. She felt her heart leap as he pressed his lips to hers.

It was unexpected for the both of them, but it felt right. It felt like something they both needed in that moment.

The kiss didn’t last long as they both heard the sound of the apartment door opening. They quickly pulled away, ready to be caught by Jess, only to breathe out a sigh of relief when Schmidt walked through the door.

He eyed the two of them, a knowing smile on his face. “Hey you two. What are you up to, there?”

“Nothing,” they both said, quickly moving to opposite ends of the couch.

“I, uh, I thought you were staying to Cece’s tonight, Schmidt,” Nick said.

Schmidt shook his head. “She has an early shoot tomorrow, and we both know that if I stayed much later I would’ve kept her up all night.”

Both Nick and (Y/N) groaned and motioned to Schmidt’s douchebag jar. He just laughed and made his way to his room.

“I won’t interrupt you two anymore.” He paused, looking back at them with that stupid smirk on his face. “Goodnight you two. Don’t be too loud, now.”

“Schmidt, that’s two for the jar!” Nick yelled after him. He turned back to (Y/N), his face tinted with pink. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay. It’s just Schmidt,” she responded. “I’m sorry for...before.”

Nick raised an eyebrow at her. “You’re sorry? I think I’m the one who initiated the kiss.”

(Y/N) giggled. “I suppose you’re right.”

“Did you...did you not want that to happen? Cause if that’s it, I’m the one who’s sorry.”

She shook her head. “No! I mean...I didn’t expect it to happen, but I’m definitely not upset that it did.”

“Okay...that’s...that’s good.”

They both sat in silence again, this time a more awkward silence. Not knowing what to do, (Y/N) quickly rose from her seat and moved towards the door. “Well, I should get going then. Sorry to stay around so late.”

“Wait, (Y/N), you’ve been drinking. You can’t drive home.”

“I’ll walk.”

“You live like four blocks away and it’s almost midnight. I’m not letting you walk home alone, drunk, in the dark. You know you can stay here as long as you want.”

(Y/N) turned back to Nick. He was stood closer to her than she expected. Her heart started hammering in her chest. She wished he would move closer to her, that he’d kiss her again. Maybe that he’d even take her into his room and make her completely forget why she had been so upset that night.

“I liked the kiss,” she told him. “I don’t regret it. I’m not upset over it. I certainly wouldn’t be upset if it happened again.”

It was Nick’s turn to smile at her. “I wouldn’t be upset if it happened again, either. But, the two of us have been drinking tonight. How about you stay here the night and when we’re both sober in the morning, I’ll take you out to breakfast. Then we can kiss as much as you’d like.”

“I like that idea. But where would I be sleeping tonight?”

“I do have a pretty big bed in there.”

“You do, I’ve seen it.”

“It’s perfect for two adults to sleep in without too much physical contact.”

“That’s too bad. I’m a cuddler.”

“I can provide cuddles, then.”

Schmidt’s bedroom door opened suddenly and he popped his head out. “Will you both just go to bed already and stop dancing around the fact that you’re into each other?”

The door slammed shut as (Y/N) and Nick looked at each other.

“Come on,” Nick said. “Let’s go to bed and leave the princess to his beauty sleep.”

(Y/N) giggled and followed Nick to his bedroom. It was the last place she expected to end up when she had come over earlier to help Jess get ready for her date, but she certainly was not upset with the turn of events.