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.
“A Secret That’s Worth It”
Carl x Reader, Negan x Reader
Word Count: 9,670
Negan x Daughter Reader, Carl x Reader
Summary: You’re Negan’s teenage daughter and from the minute you saw Carl, he sparked your interest, leading to a relationship between you two.
Warnings: Language, fluff, angst, mentions of death, kinda smutty
A/N: Does not follow the show exactly, I had to change up some things for the sake of the story, but I tried to make it as close as possible.
He was the first person you noticed when you stepped out of that RV.
He was wearing a flannel and a cowboy hat, and even with one of his eyes covered up and it being dark out, you could see how bright blue they were. You didn’t know his name, but you certainly were attracted to him.
Your father, Negan, had told you to stay inside the RV while he went out there and talked to them. He had told you that he was going to kill one of them and that he didn’t want you to see that, so you needed to stay away.
“Y/N, I do not want to see you out there. Your ass better stay in here, alright?” Negan had warned you. You didn’t listen. You had heard him talking to their group, and you got curious. All you wanted to do was see what they looked like, nothing more. You opened the door slightly and peeked your head out, making the attractive boy turn his head and look at you. They all did, but he was the only one you noticed.
“Dear daughter, did I not tell you to stay inside?” Negan bellowed. You knew he was trying to scare the group- that was his way of being a big, bad leader. He intimidates everyone. And by the look of everyone’s face, they were definitely afraid.
I think sometimes people forget how vital comedy can be. It isn’t just good for a laugh, it can cure sadness, anxiety, depression, and in my case, save lives. Like over the summer, I was so violently depressed that I went for days without getting out of bed but then I started watching The Office. This sounds silly, but it gave me a reason to get up in the morning. It gave me motivation to get out of bed and go to my jobs. Beyond that, it taught me a lot about relationships and what healthy relationships were vs unhealthy, all while making me laugh. It literally lifted me out of one of the worst times of my life emotionally, and by the end of watching it, I didn’t feel so hopeless anymore. This has happened to me multiple times with different comedians, TV shows, and movies. Comedy has saved me time and time again just when I start feeling bleak about the world. Comedy is so, so important. It’s beautiful.
It is lonely. Family will leave. Friends will leave. You will find yourself on forums and chatrooms, searching in vain for understanding. For compassion.
There is no glory in being broken. Your average disabled veteran or accident survivor will get adulation on a good day, pity on a bad one. You will get pity on a good day, contempt and fear on a bad one.
It is expensive. You will burn through your rainy day savings in the first year. It does not matter how big a house you live in or how nice your wardrobe is, you will inevitably find yourself crying over everything insurance does not cover. The co-pays will slowly kill you. Blue Cross seemingly spites you. You’ll go to the bike shop to tune up your chair, because it’s cheaper than the medical supply store. You will find yourself selling your childhood skateboards on eBay to pay for this month’s meds.
You are public property. Everybody suddenly feels entitled to share their opinion on your body and health. They will stop you in the street and corner you and holiday parties. They will tell you what they think. They will judge. They will intrude. There is no privacy in being an oddity.
There is no control. Nothing ever stays stable for very long. You’ll find yourself having a good month, convince yourself it’s getting better, until once again, you’re in the ER, within inches of your life. You can no longer make plans.
They will look. Say goodbye to anonymity.
Pain is a constant companion. Every minute of everyday. You’ll never really get used to it, but you’ll learn how to deal with it. How to hide it. There are times it will be so bad you cannot breathe or see. Cannot think. There are times you will want to die and times you’re convinced you already are dead. You’ll find yourself at 3am, staring teary-eyed at a bottle of Vicodin or Oxy. You’ll debate it, fighting as long as you can. And then you’ll lose. You’ll take two, sleep for 16 hours, and wake up in the same burning, screaming pain. Opioids will always win over will power.
Nobody will take care of you. Friends are busy. Family is tired. You are alone. You’ll skip meals because you are too sick to get out of bed and make something. You will go a week without bathing because you cannot get out of bed. Eventually you’ll swallow your pride and ask for help- and nobody will be there to give it to you.
It affects everything. Your diet will be affected. The clothes you wear will change. The type of furniture you have will change. The books you read, the music you listen to, and the company you keep. Nothing is the same, nothing is untouched.
You have to fight like hell. You’ll fight tooth and nail for the care you need. You’ll fight your insurance company. You’ll fight the piercing eyes of strangers. You’ll fight your own body. You’ll fight for your life. You’ll fight with your family and friends. Everything is a fight. Survival itself is a constant thought.
People don’t want to hear about it. You’ll know that you’re constantly complaining. People will call it self pity, but it doesn’t matter. You have to get it out. You have to tell somebody- anybody- about what you’re going through. And eventually, you’ll find somebody who listens. Hold on to them.
Prompt: “It’s Sam.” Pairing: Sam x Reader Word count: 534 Warnings: Dom!Sam, Sub!Reader, smut, light bondage, edging, orgasm denial
You moaned out, looking back over your shoulder at Sam. He always was riled up after a hunt. You tugged at the tie that bound your wrists to the headboard when you felt his fingers curl inside of you, knowing exactly where to press to make you squirm. He’s kept you on the verge of cumming for a good thirty minutes’ now. You hated that you loved being edged for so long. You hated the wait, but knowing how good it’d be when you came was worth waiting for.
Warning: Slightly NSFW, hints at stuff but nothing more.
Prompt: Hey I love all your writing! I’ve been working like crazy and I feel I like I’m dying if I’m doing honest. I was wondering if you could write something where Jason notices his SO working too hard and he forces her to take a day off with him, tons of fluff. If you can please! Thank you and I love you 💖
The first thing you realize when you wake up is the fact that there are hints of light streaming in through the curtains. The second thing you realize is that there is no blaring alarm going off in your ear. The third and final thing you realize, is that your boyfriend is so curled around you that there is no way to get out of bed without waking him up.
You try a few different moves, but nothing works. Jason’s arms are around you, his head is resting on your chest, and one of his legs are thrown over both of yours. Finally you give up on being nice and start poking him in the side. His eyes don’t open, but you watch as his lips quirk upwards.
“Jason, I need to get up and I know you’re awake.” Your eye twitches when he let’s out a fake snore, “Seriously, I need to get to class.”
You watch his eyes open slowly. He frowns at you, “No.”
He nods, “No. You’ve been working too hard. You’re getting maybe three hours of sleep a night, and you’re exhausted.”
You scoff, “You don’t show this kind of concern about Tim.”
“I’m not in love with Tim, I’m in love with you. And part of being in love is making sure that you take care of yourself. Now you make sure I don’t go out after being shot, and I’m making sure you rest. Missing one day of classes won’t kill you.”
You purse your lips and stare at him, “I do not appreciate this.”
He kisses your neck, “Yes you do. Admit it, it was nice not waking up to that stupid alarm.”
“What did you do to my alarm, Jason?”
“I threw it out the window. You can thank me later. After we get some more sleep. It’s only eleven.”
You sigh, “Jason.”
He kisses you, before rolling on top to straddle your hips, “If you’re really not tired we can find other ways to pass the time.”
You raise an eyebrow, “I thought I was supposed to be relaxing?”
He smirks, “You are.”
Smiling you decide that one day off won’t kill you and might actually be very interesting.
Requested by @the-bookish-soul 126: “I’ve had a rough day and honestly all I want right now is a drink and someone to cuddle with…” 127: “You’re so cute when you’re half asleep like this…”
Feysand - simply domestic fluff, modern au
Rhysand sighed as he settled back into the couch with a glass of water in one hand and the tv remote in the other. He had just gotten home from work and is looking forward to spending the night with his wife.
His ears perk up when the sound of the elevator dinging comes through their thick apartment door. A small smile finds it’s way onto his lips as he sets his drink on the coffee table and stands to greet Feyre.
Her footsteps are heavy as she tromps down the hallway and Rhys’ brow crinkles slightly. He becomes even more worried when he hears her pause outside the door and take a shuddering, deep breath. The sound of a key turning and clicking rings in his ears and he is already walking towards the door, arms prepared to envelope her in comfort.
She barely takes one step across the threshold and he’s there, one hand cupping the back of her head and the other resting on the small of her back, pulling her towards him. Feyre drops her bag and physically sags into him, fisting her hands in the back of his t-shirt and burying her face in his chest.
Summary: [part 4] You’re a Shelby, born between Ada and Finn. You’re not into the family business and spend most of your time as a nurse at a local hospital. Your brothers respect your distance as you try not to get caught in Peaky Blinders business. The Peaky Blinders and Alfie Solomas have been in an alliance for years. Thomas and the rest do something that might make them lose the alliance. To reassure Alfie that they’re honorable, Alfie suggest an aliance by marriage.
Opening your eyes that morning was like stabbing them the moment the sun
came into your view. At the same time, a pounding started inside your head making
you groan and letting you feel how sore your throat was. Water. You needed
water. First, you took a deep breath and sat up on the slowly, but you still
got dizzy so you had to lie down again. Damn alcohol.
Judging by the amount of light coming through your window, you imagined
it must be around noon so it wasn’t surprising that you were in bed alone.
Bucky would had been up for hours now.
It took you around three time to get you out of bed without getting
dizzy and still, you didn’t feel too safe on your own feet yet. Slowly, you
grabbed one of Bucky’s hoodies, put on your woolly socks and left the room. As you
went downstairs, you could hear the team talking in the living room. Damn lucky
bastards. Steve and Bucky couldn’t even get drunk, Natasha had too much control
over herself to drink that much and Tony always managed to avoid hangovers, it didn’t
matter how much he drank. Your only hangover partner used to be Wanda but she
was out of town with Clint.
“There she is!” Natasha exclaimed when you made your appearance.
“She has a hangover oh! She’s been
drinking too much!” Tony sang making them laugh.
“Noisy” you mumbled as you headed towards the kitchen without paying too
much attention to their mocking.
When you walked into the kitchen, you went straight to the fridge and
grabbed some water to drink, not even bothering on grabbing a glass. Glasses weren’t
important; water was.
“How are you feeling?” Bucky’s voice said behind you. With a sigh you
turned around to face him. Despite how awful you were feeling, a smile appeared
on your lips as you saw his.
“I think I’m dead”, you replied making him laugh.
“You definitely look like you are” he smirked walking over you.
“That’s nice” you rolled your eyes.
He laughed and wrapped his arms around you, hugging you, so you could place
your head over his shoulder and close your eyes. No. Bad idea. The moment you
closed your eyes, the dizziness came back so you pushed them back open and took
a step away from your boyfriend who looked at you with confusion for a moment,
before getting it.
“Dizzy?” He asked.
“My head is spinning more that after flying with Tony” you mumbled.
“I’m not surprised. You were so wasted last night” he said stroking your
hair slowly. You took another sip from the bottle and looked at him, expecting
“Did I say or do something too stupid?” You asked, not being able to
remember a single thing.
“Don’t worry” he chuckled. “You were adorable actually, telling everyone
how much you loved them” he added.
“Oh God…loving drunk. My favourite” you said sarcastic.
“Actually you said something it surprised me”, he said.
Panicking you looked at him. You knew the big mouth you could be when
you were drunk, so you didn’t even know what to expect when it came to alcohol
and Bucky mixed. Probably it wasn’t something too bad, since he was grinning
like a real idiot.
“You said you wanted to marry me someday”, he said.
“Oh…did I?” You whispered blushing.
It was true though. You loved the man that was standing right in front
of you, more than anyone else in this world. You knew he was the love of your
life, you didn’t want anyone else with you. You wanted a life and a family with
him, but you had always been too scared to bring it up since, maybe, it would
have been so much for him. Apparently, Drunk (Y/N) wasn’t that scared of the repercussions
of that statement.
“Was it true? Or was the alcohol talking?” He asked taking your hand.
“Don’t people say that drunks always tell the truth?” You asked back as
you bite your lip.
“They do”, he nodded with a smile.
“There you have your answer” you shrugged looking down at the bottle.
He took the bottle from your hands and put it away, before grabbing your
chin and making you look up to those piercing eyes.
“Then I do”, he said making your heart skip a beat.
“W-what? Are…are you proposing? Have I proposed? What?” You started
asking confused and suddenly nervous. You did want to marry him someday but you
weren’t ready to take that step yet. He laughed a little and kissed your
“None of it. It’s just a promise…that one day, when our lives are not
this messy or in danger every time we go out on a mission, I will marry you” he
“Really?” You asked biting your lip.
“Of course. Plus, I love how (Y/N) sounds” he shrugged making you laugh.
“You’re an idiot” you said grabbing his head to pull him down towards
your lips and kiss him, but he pulled away way too soon.
“Ok, go brush your teeth. Jeez” he said giving the bottle back to you. “Damn
hangover” he mumbled walking back to the living room, leaving you even more
confused with a bottle of water on your hand. He was weird.
i’m tired of people telling me to get over you
because when you truly love someone, you never get over them.
and i really believe that. i could be dating someone else
for three years and you’ll still be in the back of my mind sometimes,
i’ll still think about everyone you chose over me
and wonder why i was never enough for you,
i’ll still smile at the good times and wonder why they left us,
i’ll still have love in my heart for you.
and that’s okay. it’s nothing to be ashamed of.
it means i really loved you, enough that i’ll always care about you
and i’ll always want what’s best for you
and i’ll never take you and i for granted.
some days, i’ll still wish it worked out,
but every day, i’ll know i’d never go back to you
because you don’t go back to people who have knife fights
with your heart and leave it bleeding on the pavement.
you don’t go back to people who disregard your feelings
and choose people over you. the next person
i date will choose me first. every time.
and that’s a promise.
so maybe i’ll never get over you
but most days, it will be easier to breathe without you
and most days, i’ll be able to get out of bed
and most days, i’ll be able to think of other boys
as more than friends and most days,
i’ll remember i deserve better than you
and i won’t cry over you
or text you when i’m feeling low
or hook up with you when it gets really bad.
i’ll keep distance between us
and choose other people first
and i won’t always be there when you call
because i know what i deserve.
but i won’t get over you.
because when you truly love someone,
you never get over them.
you just learn how to survive without them.
honestly one of the Horror Genre Critiques most prominent in my heart from like the past year is some post laying out that the whole “young girl possessed by demon” thing a la the exorcist is basically just a variation of the misogyny of say, scary satanist witches a la salem witch trials. because for real, like, a demon from hell or actual satan drops in and the kinda shit from the exorcist is actually like The Height Of Evil? yawn city t b h. more like, as the person said but i dont think i saved the post or anything, its just the ol Social Anxieties where its the “corruption of innocence,” innocence being a whole totally arguable concept especially as its associated with girls, i.e. sexual independence and really any kind of independence is bad—>scary—>Literally Of The Devil. like listen honestly ive never seen the exorcist straight through but? for starters? various bodily fluids are not at all evil, just perhaps inconvenient and gross i suppose if you have hell-enhanced vomit. but its scary as that Corruption of The Innocent Girl in that instead of being a sweet, obedient, properly feminine™ girl, the devil comes along and there’s like, swearing and being ugly and masturbating and being a tenor or bass probably and being rude and uncooperative. like? thats all just the setup for a wacky roommate sitcom. of course there’s other things that make people nervous like body horror and talking about hell and that one guy dying and all, but you know what. removing the “what if my pure little daughter becomes a corrupted adolescent liberated woman rebel commie atheist etc etc etc” anxieties really guts the whole thing
like i said, feels very much like the witch, which of course is about new england witch stuff and is kind of ambiguous about like “ooh is there actual witches or is this just misogyny + paranoia” until the end when its like jk actual witchcraft. but the moral is “signing on with satan is the happy ending compared to being a woman in puritan society” and throughout the whole thing i guess its Evil to kill children and harvest babies sure but besides that? all the evil being done is being naked and not even in a sexy way, can you believe that, and living in cozy cottages in the woods, and having nice animal familiars, and occasionally meeting up with the gals for a bonfire party. all instead of being devoted to raising and not killing infants and children and fully clothed, and also not sexy because that one witch used being evilly sexy for evil but really she wasnt sexy and it was uncomfortable for everyone, and having a puritan nuclear family instead of living in your hippie woman commune. etc etc. Witch genre is definitely more straightforward about the misogynist Improper Woman Anxieties behind it (or at least it is in analysis) but the Possessed Girl genre is p much the same thing but with the devil coming after girls too pure to decide to form a pact with the devil like witches do. man i finally watched the conjuring and it was so mashing up that genre with both a demon trying to possess girls AND an evil witch that it became very inconsistent imo about which witch was which. like, was the demon the witch? it must have been. did she become a demon because im pretty sure that’s catholically impossible like a human becoming an angel. but anyways that fits in great with this analysis
i know that theres Young Possessed Boy stuff too but really??? off the top of my head, the stuff about girls skews the exorcist style stuff, while if its a little boy he’s probably the antichrist. where he’s more probably trying to end the world and murder absolutely everybody than make an unladylike ruckus, god forbid
tldr: that comic where its like the demon is all “your mother sucks cock in hell” and the exorcist calmly responds “that’s her choice as a rational, consenting adult” and the demon goes :| is totally legitimate commentary/analysis of the whole damn trope