vacant apartment

Cleveland, OH - May 2015

Stories (Namjoon x Reader)

Writer’s blocks are never fun.

fluff, 3.2k words, namjoon/reader, writer au

Your neighbor is a mess.

He only just moved into the vacant apartment across from you, and already he’s dropped two of his boxes and broke about half of his dishes.

“Um, excuse me?” you say carefully, stepping out of your room. “Do you, uh, need help?” You gesture to the great stacks and rows of boxes that line his doorway.

He turns and looks at you in surprise, and you swear to god his face is the cutest thing you’ve seen in a long while. “Wh-Oh, yeah, I mean, if you want, yeah,” he sputters. “That’d be uh, really great.” Awkwardly, he reaches up to scratch the back of his head, shooting a few glances towards the makeshift trashcan. It’s already half full with broken items.

You laugh and head over to one end of the stack, lifting up a cardboard box. “So where do you want me to put this?”

He looks over at you, and then points to the staircase. “You can leave it there, if you want. I’ll bring the box up later.”

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Third Round Decider

Old habits die hard
Happy 3rd Anniversary Kill la Kill!

Vacant eyes of abandoned apartments and empty offices. The road’s cracked, an antique tram stalled halfway up a short section of hill, the rails bent and buckled, no power, caught between stations. Behind her the tarmac disappears into the water of Tokyo bay. Like the Great Flood, only the high ground survives now.

They want to make an amusement park out of what’s left of it, don’t they? That’s what she’d said. As if Odaiba wasn’t enough for one city. Homes, offices and parks. And probably a giant robot at the center of it all. She hopes it’ll be Mazinger or better yet Gunbuster, but it’ll probably be Evangelion. Everything’s Evangelion, these days. She looks up the road, and squinting against Autumn sunlight she can see something that looks like broken arms enfolding the remains of the peak. There’s a second light there, she thinks she can see it: a specular highlight, spectacular refraction, a familiar reflection.

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“Come back home.”

Requested for a part 2 of, “You’ve changed.” 

Sammy’s POV

“That’s weird.” G said. “Madison wants all of us to go to Y/N’s apartment, right now…” Waited a couple seconds till another text popped up, “She said it’s urgent!” We all looked at each other for a second, and busted out the door into the cars. We reached y/n’s apartment complex and ran upstairs, scared to see what was wrong with y/n. We ran straight inside and saw Madison standing in the middle of the empty apartment. We all walked in slowly, looking around at the vacant apartment. 

“What the…” Nate said breathless. “Where’s all the furniture? Where’s all her stuff?” He said, immediately running towards her room, but coming back out, eyes wide open. “What’s going on Madison?” I asked her. “I don’t know, you tell me!” She handed me a letter that she held and read it aloud, 

Dear whoever has found my empty apartment first, 

Congrats. You are the first to know, as you can see for yourself, that I no longer occupy this space. This letter is to give you full authorization to my apartment. You can leave it how is, occupy it for yourself, or give up the lease. Parents are still paying for this space, empty or occupied. Free living for you if interested. 

As you might be wondering, WHERE THE HELL AM I. I have come to realization that I do not fit in here anymore. I have nothing left here to make myself happy. And I can’t stay here knowing I am not wanted by the person I want the most. Things change. People change. I have accepted my acceptance to study abroad in Spain. I took all my stuff and left. I no longer belong here. I’m sorry for you to find out like this. Please send my love and regards to the rest of the group. I love you all. But it’s time for me to just move on. I am sorry if in the future, we stop being friends for I will not return for a while. 

But I do send my love and support for your futures. I believe in you guys. I know you will make something happen. If you happen to be in Spain, hit me up. Stay true to who you are. Take care of one another. I love you guys. Goodbye for now. 

With honest and sincere love, 



“You’re not the only one fucking hurting Mads! Ok?!” My voice cracking. “I didn’t mean for this to happen for any of this! When I fucking saw her man, it was like when I first met her. Stunned by her beauty. When I hugged her, I just wanted to hold her forever to make sure she doesn’t leave my sight again. But I just fucked up. I tried to pretend like she meant nothing to me because my heart was still healing. And look what happened! My hate PUSHED her into another country.” I sat there, rubbing my watery eyes in frustration. 

We all stayed in the empty apartment for a couple hours before they all decided to go home. I just stayed here just to be in here before Madison decides to give up the lease. It was around 8 P.M. when I started rereading the letter. I was lying down, with the letter above my face in the air. I sat up when I noticed there was very small writing on the back of it, “An address.” I took out my phone and google the address. “Barcelona, Spain…” I sat there and quickly got up and drove to the airport. “Next flight to Barcelona please.” I bought my ticket and ran to the plane before I missed it. 

After the long flight, I got into a taxi and gave him the address, “Take me there as fast as you can!” We got there in no time. I rushed to the front desk, “Hi. I’m looking for the room of Ms. Y/F/N Y/L/N.” I said out of breath. The guy typed on the computer and looked up at me, “floor 15 room number 1508.” I thank the guy and ran to the elevator. Once I got off the elevator, I ran through the halls, looking at the room numbers till I saw 1508. I stopped to catch my breath and finally got the courage to knock. 

The door flew open and a smiley Y/N appeared, but soon her smile quickly faded when she saw who I was. “Sam?” She said speechless. 

“Let me get this straight,” She said, pacing back and forth in the room, hands on her hips, while I sat on her bed. “You found my vacant apartment. You found the letter. You found the little address I put and decided to go to it. You thought that because you came ALL this way, you can just easily waltz back into my life like that?” “Yeaaahhh….??” I squeaked out. “You’re too late Sammy. I already left. I,” “Please, Y/N..” “What do you want from me Sam?” 

“I want you to forget all of this. Start over. Come back home with me.” “I’m not going to come back home! Look, Sam. I really appreciate you coming all this way to come get me but you are no longer in my life or in any way influence me to come back. If you did this in Paris, I would have. But after the way you treated me, no..” “I’m willing to start over. You can continue here in Spain, i’ll go back to LA. We’ll still be a couple during this whole situation. When you come back, we’ll go back to the way it used to. I’ll do anything for us to stay together. I’ll make an effort to FaceTime and text you more often. I’ll come fly here once in a while. Please, I’m begging you.” I got down on my knees, holding her hand.

“I just, I can’t. Ugh.” She screamed and walked out the room. I sat there waiting for her to come back. 30 minutes later she did. “Where did you go?” “I made a couple phone calls.” “YOU’RE GOING TO COME BACK HOME?” I said excited. “No. I called Emily and your parents.” “You what? Why? I’m 20. They don’t need to know everything. I’m a grown man.” “Ok Mr. Grown man. Did you happen to call your phone company and credit card company to inform them that you were out of the country so you won’t get overcharged or a frozen card?” I just looked at her. “I didn’t think so. I had to call and tell them to do that, and to tell them that you are here. They told me to send you home on the next flight.” “No I’m not,” “But, let me finish. I told them you were going to stay here for a couple days to make up for his asshole attitude if he wants another chance with me.” She smiled at me, “WHAT? REALLY?” I yelled, grabbing her and twirling her in the air and she squealed. 

“No funny business Wilkinson. I’m not leaving Spain for you. I’m still going to be here. You need to understand that. If you want me, you’re going to have to be fine with me being gone for a whole other year.” “Yes, perfectly fine with that.” I kissed her lips. But she parted, “And another thing,” “YES YES YES WHATEVER YOU WANT Y/N! JUST COME HERE AND KISS ME ALREADY!” I grabbed her face and kissed her as i felt her smile between the kiss. 

It was Christmas time when all of our friends had a little party for just us, to exchange gifts and have dinner. After dinner, we all sat in the living room just hanging out talking, thinking about staying up to FaceTime Y/N later, when the doorbell rings. J gets up and gets it while we continued. A few minutes later, J comes back smiling like crazy. “Is it Santa?” I joked, we all laughed at his face. “It wasn’t that cool!” He said sarcastically. Y/N walked out from behind the wall, smiling, “Sorry I wasn’t Santa or the elves.” We all stood up and gave her a group hug. We all let go and I hugged her individually. “You are waaaaay better than Santa.” I chuckled into her head. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in Spain.” 

“I actually have a Christmas present for all of you guys.” She said, having us sit down. “I no longer study abroad.” “WHAT HAPPENED?!” “Nothing happened. i just, decided to only stay one semester. I’ve been gone for far too long. It’s time for me to come back home.” She walked to me and sat down on my lap. “Welcome home Y/N.” We smiled at each other and kissed. “GROSS! GO BACK TO SPAIN!” They all yelled at us. 

Not So Secret Serenades + A CS AU One Shot

A little neighborly musician!Killian and some smut for @timeless-love-story :] thank you for always being so wonderful, friend! Hope this is what you were looking for! XOXO

The first time it happened, Emma had been nothing short of startled.

Her feet had been through the grueling process of dragging themselves home after chasing down a particularly stealthy target and she’d plodded like a zombie up the flights of far too many steps to her apartment, totally oblivious to lights on in the vacant apartment across the way and the stack of boxes off to the side of the stairway as she reached her floor. She didn’t have the time or energy to wonder about the purpose behind such little oddities, so she opted not to while tossing her keys and what was left of her stamina onto the kitchen counter. Uncorking a chilled bottle of wine in slow motion, she had poured a glass with gratitude before flopping down on the sofa. The night hadn’t yet moved into a late hour and she clicked on the television at a fairly low volume, settling in to drown in whatever cheesy romantic comedy was halfway over before sleep overcame her.

Well, until the peace and quiet of her cozy loft was shattered by the loud strum of an electric guitar, reverberating from across the small courtyard that separated one side of the building from the other.

Her extremely red beverage found itself in the state of spilled instantly, landing mostly on the wood floor below aside from the splash of stain on her inconveniently light gray sweater. With an exasperated sigh, she had slammed the stemmed glass on her end table and staggered to her exhausted feet. Who in the deepest depths of hell was making such a racket at….well, at eight o’clock at night? Okay, okay - the noise wasn’t as inappropriate as Emma felt it was, especially on a Saturday evening - but that was beside the point.

Suddenly wide awake, Emma plodded toward the sliding glass that led out onto the small balcony and peeked out of the quickly opened entrance. She was glad the landlord kept the courtyard well lit - it would make her plan of attack easier for sure. The distance from her windows to the ones across the open air space wasn’t much and the sound - although a bit calmer now - hadn’t ceased enough to be ignored. She sighed in annoyance once more before she began to deliberate on exactly how to retaliate. There were several clear cut facts that she settled with as she stormed back inside, scouring her cupboards for something to throw that wouldn’t shatter the glass of the adjacent loft.

She had a new neighbor - one who was apparently a musician with a death wish.

Her fingers landed on an opened bag of jumbo marshmallows, ones she’d purchased a month or so ago during the course of a hot chocolate binge. Of course, her inability to seal the bag had left them a bit stale, but perhaps that was to her advantage. Time to make an impression, she mused as she snagged them. Well, hopefully one that would allow her to call the shots without cracking the sliding door.

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Robin told me my hat made me look like a parade float as he went after the guy who tried to mug me.#OnlyInGotham

Nightwing hung out on my fire escape, and played with my cat while the police took my neighbours into custody.#OnlyInGotham

Blonde Batgirl crashed our roof party and swiped a hot dog before running off again.#OnlyInGotham

Red Hood hung the neighbourhood heroin dealer out a vacant apartment window on the top floor of my building and let us take pictures. #OnlyInGotham

Catsuit Batgirl recommended a few fantastic books on ASL when she found my 3 year old son and discovered that he was deaf.#OnlyInGotham

“I got evicted from my apartment in the summer of 2011. I was working on commission as a real estate broker, and I hadn’t made a deal in a long time. I had master keys to a bunch of vacant apartments, so I slept in those for a while. But that came to an end when two prospective tenants walked in on me buck-naked at a unit in Harlem. I got out of the shower, and the superintendent was standing there with two African guys. Luckily they didn’t report me. After that I tried sleeping in the office. That worked for a couple years. My colleagues saw me so much that they joked about me sleeping there. They had no idea it was true. But they fired me for good in 2013 and deactivated my entry card. That’s when I started sleeping outside. I bought a gym membership so at least I’d have a place to shower. Last winter was the worst. The cold would get through the sleeping bag and I’d wake up feeling like somebody had hit my hands with a hammer. All night I’d pray for 6 AM because that’s when my gym would open.”

David Belasco (1853-1931), called “The Bishop of Broadway” because he took to wearing a priest’s outfit, though lets just say he wasn’t exactly celibate.

Theatre producer, director, playwright, stage manager…the man basically did everything theatre-related!

Two of his plays-Madame Butterfly and The Girl of the Golden West-were made into operas by Puccini. The Belasco Theater on Broadway, which he operated in the early 20th century, is said to be haunted by its former owner. Workers and actors often hear sounds coming from Belasco’s vacant apartment above the theater.

Long story short, he was quite easy on the eyes before he became a dirty old man…had no trouble in the casting-couch department, if you catch my drift ;)

naruhina; sweet ramen

prompt: ramen (D-5)
rating: K+
a/n: i’m free from the clutches of exams and uni in general so no more excuses not to upload these on time. day 6 will be up a bit later after i edit it. meanwhile, enjoy this late submission for day 5!


“Everything’s better when it’s with you.”


Though the blonde man was probably more notorious for his vast contributions and high skills as a ninja, it could not be denied that majority of people were also aware of Naruto’s unhealthy obsession with ramen.

Particularly his favouritism towards Ichiraku’s ramen.

To the young Uzumaki, Ichiraku was more than a common food stall, it transpired into a place he personally dubbed as his second home. Most of the time, he preferred the comfort of the appetizing aromas emanating from the restaurant compared to the eerie loneliness of his vacant apartment room - especially when his fellow companions were present to indulge in his primary meal of choice along with him.

The owner, Teuchi, was one of those figures Naruto could even consider a foster father. The way the elderly man tended to the dishes he would prepare and ensure it was made with the finest ingredients, prepared with the intentions of providing a warm meal to a hungry orphan to compensate the lack of him eating home cooked meals prepared by his mother, and also how Teuchi had never even looked at him as anything but a normal human being generally summed up why Ichiraku was one of his favoured locations in the entire world.  

However, lately an altercation had appeared. An unexpected one at that.

Naruto found himself preferring ramen made by another person besides his family at Ichiraku.

Now, his appetite seemed to have taken a liking towards ramen prepared by his girlfriend.

Ever since they began dating around a year ago, the couple had naturally shared a form of unspoken agreement where they would start taking more interest with each other’s passions to help tighten their bond closer. Without argument, one of the factors listed by Naruto was undoubtedly ramen.

It had been her idea though, much to his amusement, for her to come by his humble abode every Saturday to cook ramen for them to enjoy in the comfortable confinements of his apartment with no worries or hassle of any sorts – food is the proper way to a person’s heart after all. Naruto decided to take it up a more intimate notch and proposed they share the ramen in only one bowl, allowing them to break down any possible barriers physically and emotionally. She had agreed with a deep blush dusting her cheeks.

He recalled the first time he had tasted ramen made by her. How his senses buzzed with pleasure, leaving him melting into a pool of undefined happiness after consuming such a delectable meal. A dish he regularly had daily if possible. A dish he had eaten more times than an average person should. A dish that had a simple recipe yet left him aching for more as he found himself having to restrain devouring the entire bowl by himself.

He was left amazed. Throughout his 20 years of living, his experience venturing into other villages, his encounters with the various restaurants he had stopped by after or before missions for a bowl of this traditional dish, even after declaring his utmost devotion for Ichiraku all his life, it all failed to even slightly compare to how delicious Hinata’s ramen was.

So he decided this time, he would observe her carefully and take into intricate detail her execution of her ramen making to figure out what made it so irresistible.

That Saturday, the dark-haired beauty was as punctual as ever, knocking on his door politely with a warm smile drawn on her lips greeting him as Naruto opened it for her. Her arms were filled with grocery bags containing ingredients for the ramen as usual, her casual outfit of a simple sweater and a skirt still enhancing her pure appeal. His mind couldn’t help but view her akin to a wife ready to cook a meal for her doting husband. 

He took the groceries from her hold, kissing her cheek affectionately before letting her come in. “You must be hungry,” she commented, walking straight towards the kitchen and pulling out her white apron from a drawer. He felt his stomach flutter knowing she had items left in his apartment for her use, proving their relationship wasn’t just a fantasy in his brain and he actually had someone who loves him as much as her to come to his empty house and make it feel like a home already. “I’ll cook the ramen up quickly.”

Naruto placed the brown bags on the table, organizing them tidily for her. “Take your time,” he replied afterwards, turning a chair backwards so he could rest his chin on the back, eyeing her carefully as she began her task. She brought the vegetables over to the sink to be washed, pulling her dark tresses into a high ponytail and rolled up her sleeves neatly.

Naruto became entranced with her image in his kitchen. He had never truly appreciated how perfect she looked when she was cooking. How her fingers worked fast yet graceful as she treated the ingredients like they were fragile, how her motions were speedy from skill yet they were done with tender care, how her bangs slightly stuck to her forehead from the heat emanated from the kitchen and how her eyes and lips coordinated whenever she did a taste test (he especially loved when her nose would slightly wrinkle and her eyes glistened happily when she enjoyed the taste).

The young man failed to mask his flagrant staring, causing her to turn around and tilt her head questioningly at him. “Is something wrong, Naruto-kun?”

He simply grinned widely back at her. “No no, it’s just that I’ve never actually watched you cook. It’s interesting.”

She seemed bashful by his overt attention, but giggled in amusement. “I’m glad you find me making us food amusing.” He swore he crumbled hard by how adorable she was.

Hinata refocused back to completing the meal, checking the broth constantly to ensure its taste. Naruto let out a soft sigh, puzzlement plaguing his mind. Although it may have appeared he was heavily distracted by her cute appeal, he had actually paid attention to what she had been doing. Step by step, his eyes never missing a single action but he simply couldn’t deduce what she was doing differently. Granted, making ramen was never seen as a difficult feat yet hers was just so extraordinary, he was sure they was something special added.

Hinata turned off the stove, using her mittens to pour the ramen carefully into a large ceramic bowl and brought the steaming dish carefully to the center of the table. Naruto helped bring over two sets of chopsticks along with two glasses for water, then together they brought their chairs closer so they could huddle over the warm delicious smelling meal before them.

He looked over at her with a huge grin. “Let’s eat!”

Not wasting time like the impatient youth he was, Naruto quickly started slurping the ramen down, humming in contentment. “Mmm, delicious! You’re seriously an amazing cook, Hinata!”

“I’m glad you like it,” she replied, her expression showing her enjoyment in watching her lover eat so heartily. They started enjoying their dinner by sharing stories of current missions they had recently went on or just mindless chatter about how hilarious Sai would look with facial hair. Throughout it all, Naruto found himself stealing glances at her while she fed herself her own cooking. The way she would blow three times every scoop before swallowing it properly, how her eyes would squint modestly from either the heat or the spiciness and the slight plumpness of her lips from the broth – everything was so endearing.

“Is it too spicy?”

He snapped out of his reverie, his blue eyes gazing at her wondrously, a sudden coy feeling seeping into him from being caught staring at her once again. “Your face is kinda red. Did I put in too much spices?” she asked worriedly, pouring him another glass of water.

“No, it’s fine,” he said, lowering his head and focused on the bowl of ramen before him to hide his stained cheeks from her view. Their hands moved in sync to take a scoop from the bowl, both consuming the food silently - not noticing they had somehow taken the same strand.

Hinata realized first, her body froze as she faced him with a light blush, one end of the noodle in between her plump lips. Naruto glanced over and saw their predicament, his irises glimpsed over her sultry lips with a piece of ramen peeking in the middle – his two loves in life combined. He started inching closer subconsciously, his body suddenly craving for more, eating the noodle the more he neared. She slunk back a little, feeling shy from his abrasive nature but as his lips closed in, she shut her eyes in anticipation.

He bit the noodle apart and lands his lips softly against hers, catching her in a sweet kiss. He tasted the piece of ramen along with the added flavour of her luscious lips, making it so much better, so much more euphoric, so much more delicious. Hinata noticed his awed expression after they broke apart. “Naruto-kun?”

He replied by kissing her again instead, craving the sinful taste of ramen and the delicacy that is his beautiful lover. He let a smile grace his lips through their kiss, knowing now why he preferred this over Ichiraku.

Ramen tasted so much better when shared with someone he loved.


previous day // next day

April 21st 12:41pm

In the end you weren’t home, you were a vacant apartment waiting for its next tenant.

“I’m sorry” doesn’t fix the way I feel

The thrill of having me around died off so soon. God, please let me finish this glass before you tell me this is the end.

“I’m sorry, I never wanted to hurt you”

You grew apart from me, my love became unwanted. You don’t need me anymore.

I sold my soul for a single chance to see your face again but it’s too soon to move on and I think I need to finish this bottle.

“Really, I do care about you, I’m sorry”

I’m so sorry you’re a coward, that trait has a way of ruining lives. So I’m sorry that you won’t learn from this.

I truly hope she breaks your heart. Maybe we could drink together.

—  Its been a month. I hate you more than my self.

This is Cleo, short for Cleocatra :). She’s my adorable domestic longhair with short little legs and a big fluffy tail. I rescued her as just a kitten, when someone left her behind in their vacant apartment. The companionship that most people find in a dog, I have found in Cleo, and I could never be more grateful :) 

(submitted by hippie-foot)

Charles Yukl was a 31-year-old married piano teacher living in New York City when he claimed his first victim on 24 October, 1966. The police responded to a call by Yukl claiming hat he had discovered the body of 25-year-old, Suzanne Reynolds, in an vacant apartment in his apartment block. She had been stripped naked, beaten and then stabbed to death. He claimed he discovered her after seeing the door lying open. He was arrested the following morning. He took a plea deal in which he was charged with manslaughter and served just 14 years for good behaviour. He waited just 24 months before killing again. On 20 August, 1974, the nude and strangled body of Karen Schlegel was discovered on a rooftop of an apartment in Greenwich Village. Yukl was living in the apartment of the roof she was discovered on and confessed to her murder. He was sentenced for this murder and received another plea deal in which he pled guilty for 15 years. There was no release for good behaviour the second time around as Yukl hanged himself in his cell with a shredded mattress cover on 22 August, 1982.