The thing is, Stiles is pretty sure he can’t afford to breathe the air in New York City, let alone rent an apartment there. But it’s also been his lifelong dream to go to NYU, same as his mom, and he’s just gotten his acceptance letter in the mail along with a hefty scholarship offer. So he has a bit of a conundrum on his hands.
Enter Derek, who has a (relatively) dirt cheap apartment in Queens.
Okay, so Derek calls it an “apartment.” Stiles calls it an “attic closet.”
It’s nothing but a narrow bed, a foot or so of walking space between that and the wall, and a lone shelf by the door to hold the microwave and all of Derek’s possessions that can’t fit under the bed. There’s not even enough room to open the door all the way; the edge of the door hits the edge of the bed, and then you have to shimmy into the room.
The sad thing is that Stiles can’t even afford that.
He can, however, afford half of it.
“So you’re going to share a bed,” Scott says, looking concerned.
“Yes,” Stiles says.
“No,” Derek says at the same time.
Scott looks more concerned.
Stiles sighs. “Okay, so it’s like this. Derek’s going to be doing the whole normal person schedule, up at the buttcrack of dawn” (Derek rolls his eyes) “and out working and studying and stuff all day and back in bed asleep by 11 pm, and I’m going to be taking all evening classes and working the night shift!”
“We won’t actually ever be in the same place at the same time,” Derek clarifies. “He gets it during the day; I get it at night.”
“Because we can’t stand each other,” Stiles adds, in case Scott is thinking of getting his hopes up that this whole roommates thing is going to be some kind of bromance.
Sam groans and tries to hide under the pillow, but the warm fingers poking at his side won’t simply stop, even if his message is clear enough. It’s too early for that shit– he’s almost sure it’s 3 am and god he needs to sleep. Dean’s been sick, Mom’s been missing and Sam is wrecked, to say the least. It’s the first time in days he’s got some nice sleep and obviously Dean would be there to torment him.
“It’s fucking 3 am, Dean. Go back to sleep.”
“I can’t.” Dean says softly, but at least he’s stopped poking Sam. That’s a win. “It’s your face, baby. It’s too distracting.”
Oh god. He’s so not in the mood for that.
Sam is tired and grumpy. Not horny. Definitely not horny.
“You either go back to sleep now or in the car. Your call.”
Dean chuckles but adjusts himself on the bed, placing a gentle kiss on Sam’s temple, hand resting on the small of his little brother’s back. Soon enough, they both drift back into sleep.
(Also djfigosd for whatever reason people have actually been reblogging that post I made about the Anatolian shepherd documentary, like the post that turned into all-capsing and saying “WHY DON’T YOU SHOW US /INTERESTING/ THINGS ABOUT THESE ANIMALS” and I have utterly no problem with it but it’s hilarious that that happened that was literaly an offhanded rant about something most people don’t even know about at all i just sdjfgosdfg)
You recognized that face by now. It looks familiar but you can’t quite put your finger in it. He came almost every day, sometimes with his friends but most of the time alone. He always sat in the same place and played on his phone or his laptop.
“Your total is $3.50.”
You can feel his stare when you hand him his change but it’s not on your face.
‘He’s kinda cute. And it looks like he’s wearing the same school uniform as I do.’
“Hey, uh Y/N, you’re in my class right?”
“What? H-How do you know my name?” You know you’ve never spoken to him so how could he know?
He points at your chest.
“Your name tag.”
“Oh right. Yeah….”
“My name is Taehyung by the way. We’ve been in the same class for 3 years now.” He announces that proudly
‘3 years? How could I not notice him?’
You hear a voice calling for you, “Y/N! You can take your break now!”
“Okay!” You call back.
Taehyung looks at you. He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. When he sees you walking out from behind the counter he quickly says, “Do you want to have coffee with me?”
You have no reason to say no so you quickly nod your head and get a coffee yourself.
The two of you sit down in his usual spot and awkwardly sip on your coffee.
“So Y/N. I have a question about the project we’re supposed to do. Can I ask you?”
“Uh sure. I’m not really smart or anything though, just saying.”
He lightly chuckles.
“You? Not smart? You’re the smartest person in all our classes.”
'Me? I don’t think so but….’
“Well anyway Y/N, I’m just confused about the entire project in general. Can you explain it to me?”
You don’t mind explaining to him but you can tell your cheeks were turning red because he keeps smiling at you with his boxy smile.
'How could I not notice someone so cute.’
Your break ends just as you finish up your explanation.
“Do you understand now, Taehyung?”
“Oh yeah! Thanks Y/N! ”
“Well, my break is over now but if you have anymore questions you can ask me.”
His smile drops when he sees you getting up to leave.
'Is he sad that I’m leaving?’
“Um. Y/N? Can I get your num-”
Taehyung is interrupted by the manager.
“Y/N. Can you cover the front? Something came up.” You hear as the manager say as she runs out the store with her coat half on.
You turn to Taehyung. He’s looking at you with puppy eyes.
'What was he saying again? Sounds like he still had a question’
“Taehyung. Uh. Hold on.”
You quickly scribble something on a napkin and pass it to him. And hurriedly jog to the cash register where a couple was waiting.
Taehyung looks at the napkin you put in his hand. He sees some numbers neatly written on it. With his eyes wide open, he looks at you but you’re busy putting in orders.
You look around the cafe but don’t see Taehyung anymore.
'He must have left’
About 30 minutes later, your shift is over and you head for the door. When you step outside you see Taehyung sitting on the bench right outside.
'He’s probably waiting for someone so I’ll keep walking’
You turn around and see Taehyung jogging towards you.
“Y/N, didn’t you see me there?”
“Oh. Taehyung, I did but I thought you were waiting for someone and didn’t want to disturb you.”
“I already finished my coffee so I didn’t want to get in the way. I wanted to walk you home. It’s getting dark.”
“Oh no Taehyung you don’t have to!”
He pats you in the head and pulls you closer to him.
“Come on Y/N. I’m trying to be cool and manly. Let’s go!”
You end up letting him walk you home because you did feel safer walking back with a man.
On the way home you two talk about your classes, movies, and hobbies. As you talk to him you remember who he was. Kim Taehyung, the kid that always sat in the back with his friends. He was part of the rowdy group of kids you never bothered to pay attention to but he didn’t seem rude like the others. He definitely didn’t used to be so tall and good looking.
'Man, did puberty hit him like a truck’
Before you know it you arrive at your house. For some reason you feel sad to say bye. You stop at your front and look up at Taehyung.
“Y/N? Is something wrong?”
'I want to see him for some reason.’
“Hm? It’s nothing. You’re coming to the cafe tomorrow right?”
“Yep. I’ll try to go everyday.” he says with his boxy smile.
“And make sure you talk to me in school too.” Your face gets a little hot.
He pats you on the head which you find strangely comforting.
“I’ll definitely come talk to you tomorrow. Go in now. It’s late.”
You hesitantly walk in your house before quickly rushing out and call after Taehyung.
He spins around immediately almost as if he was waiting for you to call after him. He looks straight at you, his eyes wide open with curiosity.
“Um. You know that napkin?” Your voice is quiet.
“What?” He walks up to you. “I can’t hear you.” He has the smile again.
“The napkin…. Even if you don’t have questions about the project you can call or text me. Like if you just want someone to talk to.” You can feel how red your cheeks are.
“Y/N, are you okay? Your face is red.”
“It’s nothing. I just like talking to you… Taehyung-ah. It seems like I really like you.” You look him in the eyes.
His cute boxy smile is gone. And that worries you.
'Oh no. I shouldn’t have said that! We just met today. Ugh how could I?!’
He puts both hands on your shoulders and leans towards you. When you see him closer you notice that he’s blushing pretty hard too.
“Actually Y/N, I know this can sound really creepy but I have noticed you for three years. And I always kinda liked you but was scared to talk to you. I don’t know how I did it today but I was really happy when you said you would have coffee.”
Its your turn to say something but you don’t know what to say. He liked me?
“It’s okay Y/N, you don’t have to say anything.”
You look down in embarrassment.
Taehyung lightly lifts your head with his hands and holds it so you look him in the eyes.
Before you can react he slowly leaned in and placed his lips on yours.
He stops to look at you for a second but goes back in for another kiss. This time you close your eyes and lean into the kiss, savoring his taste. He has one arm around your waist and one hand holding the back of your head. You didn’t notice but both your arms had made its way to Taehyung’s back.
You don’t know how much time passes but when the both of you pull away from each other, your lips feel swollen.
He licks his lips which makes you just barely hold yourself back from kissing him again.
You look down at your feet and so does Taehyung.
“Well this is awkward….”
A smile creeps on your lips and you start laughing.
When you look up, you see that boxy smile that probably made you fall for him.
He pats your head and says “Y/N. You should go in now.”
“Make sure you come to the cafe everyday. I finally found something fun to do on my break.”
“I’ll definitely come tomorrow. Now go in Y/N, you need your sleep.”
You kiss him one last time and run inside. It’s gotten quite cold.
That night, when you turned off your lights, layed on your bed, and closed your eyes all you could see was Taehyung kissing you.
'Need sleep, my butt. How am I supposed to sleep when all I can think of is him.’
I wanted to make this a one shot so it’s a little open ended. I’ll leave the rest to your creative minds. Thank you for reading this! And if you have any requests feel free to leave an ask! C:
Okay it’s gone well past midnight here - apologies if I did not yet get to your #DrunkHarryAnswers prompt. There’s a couple I am definitely going to turn into a proper WIP, but for now, SLEEP. Hopefully tonight I’ll get more than 3 hours.
As always, thank you so much to this riot of a fandom for producing such wonderful prompts and being kind enough to fling them at me. Drunk answers has been hella fun and surprisingly hella hot. I’ve developed some new pairings I’m kinda getting into (please don’t let this turn into Feycien like with the last prompts round. I have fallen far, far too hard into that ship. Thank you/DAMMIT @sparkleywonderful!)
Kyoya and the reader. "Your problems are none of my concern." Thanks you! ❤️❤️
( Angst Me No More — Ask Meme )
“Your problems are none of my concern.”
pairing: Kyoya x Reader
genre: angst, fluff
word count: 1934 words
insp: “Say Something” — A Great Big World
“Mm. I understand. It’s okay.” You spoke to your phone, fingers clutching the hem of your polo shirt. You hung up, and sighed.
Even on our anniversary..
Looking around the restaurant, you felt that pang of loneliness when you saw the other couples eating together, holding hands and laughing.
Might as well eat here. You ordered your favorite pasta, and ignored the depressing thought in the back of your minds as you stared at the empty chair across from you.
You had been signing the receipt when the waitress spoke to you. “Excuse me, Customer-san, but may I ask something?” She shyly looked at you.
“Yes, sure. What is it?” You replied.
“Did your date..” She gestured at the empty chair. Your eyes followed her hand, and you shook your head.
“No, my boyfriend’s too busy..” You grin up at her again. She gave you a look of sympathy, one you were all too familiar with, from the other waitresses in other restaurants you had spent dinner all alone in.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. You just looked really sad.” She apologized once more.
A/N: This is the first story that I’ve worked on consistently since high school, but also since starting my medication last year. I’d forgotten how much work it was to write a bit everyday, but it’s been so gratifying to watch my writing improve like it used to. This chapter is heavily inspired by the Moana soundtrack (which is fantastic and everyone should go watch the movie and cry with me), and I hope you enjoy reading it!
Dedicated to @youkaiyume for all her lovely support and patience with me as I slowly churn out Mermaid!AU for her. Check out her art/blog if you don’t already follow her because dude, you’re hella missing out.
Years away from civilian life, Sakura can still remember the
routine that would fall on her village when the sun went down. It doesn’t take
much to remember how the streets would empty as children were called in for
dinner and entire families were shut up in cottages. The hearth would glow
through the window of every house, and she remembers how she thought they
looked like fireflies. Her mother would scold her for staying up past her
bedtime, and she remembers how she would wait until her parents were both
asleep before slipping to the window, watching the lights extinguish one by one
through the night. When the last glow of her neighbor’s candle finally slipped
away, she would finally slip back into bed and see the ghosts of fireflies on
her ceiling before finally going to sleep.
There is no such thing on her boat though. The last lanterns
have long been turned down for the night, and while the memories can still be
fresh in her head, she is still miles away from the warm glow of a firefly
hearth. At this late hour, there is only the moonlight that streams through a
porthole in her room, silvery, stark, and cold on the dark wood floor.
She stares up at the roof of her cabin and rakes her eyes
over the grain of the boards for the twenty-seventh time. It is late–much too
late for her to be awake at this hour. Her crew is fast asleep and the candle
has long since burnt into oblivion on her desk. She has been staring up into
the darkness for hours now, unable to sleep. The smell of smoke still curls up
from a thick pool of wax, and against the gentle lap of waves against the hull,
her eyes slam violently into their object of fixation again and again.
Well, night number two of not being able to fall asleep until after 2am, and one of my girls waking me up for a diaper change 2hrs+ later. Going to try going back to sleep now, but today’s definitely going to be a two cups of coffee day.
On the plus side? Can’t sleep, might as well write, right? Current word count during these last two sleepless nights? Just under 8k. Two new chapters to edit and post for my Newmann PacRim fic “Symbiosis” and a good start on a couple prompts for my Dragon Age OCs to put up on their sideblog. At least my insomnia is good for something, I guess.
“I overdid it, that jump scare on you,” Enjolras says slowly, licking his lips and staring at Grantaire. His eyes are impossibly blue, the black band around them enhancing the color to something supernaturally beautiful. His cheeks are pink, like he’s been running hard, but they’re ensconced in candy-scented safety, and neither of them are running. “Because it was you. I thought—I figured you, you were here to make fun of me, again, and I was mad. I wanted to… impress you. Prove you wrong. I don’t know. I’m—it was poorly done of me. I’m sorry.”
Grantaire can’t even parse this. “I can’t believe you even recognized me,” he says, stupidly, and he doesn’t think he’d say any of this, anywhere else, but this feels like a dream, unreal, and the words are slipping out somehow. “I didn’t think I really registered to you? At all. Let alone in costume.”
“I didn’t like the juice either,” Enjolras said, yawning. “It tasted terrible. That ghoul’s the worst.”
“Enjolras,” Grantaire said, pulling away until Enjolras had to snap upright or fall over, “what ghoul?”
“The ghoul, you know,” Enjolras said. “White hair, black teeth. No, wait: black hair, white teeth. Slick. Dapper.”
“You shouldn’t go to sleep.” Now Grantaire sounded Definitely Upset, and was pushing Enjolras’s hair away from his face. Enjolras didn’t know when he’d started sweating, but Grantaire’s palm was cold and lovely on his throat.
They smile, and their mouth really is tempting in that shade of
soft-pinkish red he doesn’t have a name for, and they shake his hand
when he offers it. “Grantaire. It’s a pleasure. I’m a guy, by the way, I
just apparently look fabulous in a chiton, certain styles of which were
also worn by men so that went nowhere.”
He lets his mouth quirk up at the corners, catching Grantaire’s gaze. “Well, you know, fuck gender normativity.”
This is not a fic per se, but it is delightful nonetheless:
Grantaire has heard the stories, they’ve all heard the stories, but no one ever told him about this, the way the bite could thunder through him, a storm cloud rolling through his body with nowhere safe for it to break. The bite on his neck throbs. Enjolras’s mouth on his wrist is insistent.
There’s a buzzing in his ears, his pulse is a crescendo under his skin, and he clutches at Enjolras’s back with desperate hands, keeping him in place. “Please,” he says again, urging Enjolras on. “Enjolras, yes, god - “
Enjolras makes a noise, sharp and desperate, that is going to stay with Grantaire until someone fucking Eternal Sunshines it out of him. Grantaire wants him so much, wants to fist his hand in Enjolras’s stupid perfect messy curls and pull his head back to see his red, red mouth, wants to drag him up and crash their mouths together until they bruise from it.
Grantaire ducks into the first deserted alley he can find outside the
bar, leans against the dirty brick wall, lights a cigarette and waits.
No point in hiding from a pack who can smell him, so he hopes they’ll be
quick about it. He’s not disappointed. He’s barely taken a pull from
his cigarette when Enjolras steps into the alley.
“Where’s the rest of the pack?” he asks, lips curling into a smirk. “Please tell me you’re not going to fight me on your own.”
“What makes you think I plan on fighting?” Enjolras replies. His
voice is low but carries across the alley easily, and somehow it sends a
shiver down Grantaire’s spine.