#but i want my noodles !!! sigh..................................

[isak-dot-gov]

Can you write an imagine where emily taking care of the reader when she is sick? thank youu

Sick Day

Pairing: Emily Engstler x Reader

Word count: 1245

Summary: Emily takes care of you while you're sick.

My Masterlist :)

............................

It started as a scratchy throat when you woke up. You ignored it at first, chalking it up to sleeping with the window cracked open and hoped it would subside soon. By the time the afternoon rolled around, your head felt stuffed with cotton, your body was aching like you’d run a marathon, and chills were running up and down your spine even though you were wrapped in the fluffiest blanket in the apartment.

You were curled up on the couch, eyes half-closed as the TV droned in the background. Emily had gone out earlier to run some errands, and though she’d texted to say she wouldn’t be long, you couldn’t help but wish she’d walk through the door already. Everything felt overwhelming—your pounding head, the way your nose refused to cooperate, and the effort it took just to keep your eyes open.

When the door finally opened with the familiar creak, you managed a weak, “Hey, Em,” before a coughing fit overtook you.

“Baby?” Emily’s voice was sharp with concern as she closed the door behind her. In a matter of seconds, she was in the living room, crouching beside the couch to look at you. Her blue eyes scanned your face, taking in your pale skin and flushed cheeks. “You look like you’ve been hit by a truck. What’s going on?”

You groaned, pulling the blanket over your face in embarrassment. “Thanks for the vote of confidence. I love you too Em,” you croaked, your voice barely audible.

“Don’t even try to sass me right now.” She gently pulled the blanket down, pressing the back of her hand against your forehead. Her brows furrowed immediately. “You’re burning up. Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling this bad?”

“I didn’t want to bother you,” you mumbled, looking away.

Emily let out a soft huff, her lips twitching into a smile despite the situation. “You’re literally my favorite person. How could you ever bother me?” She leaned down, pressing a light kiss to your warm forehead. “Stay put. I’ll take care of everything.”

You watched her disappear into the kitchen, the sound of cupboards opening and closing blending with the faint hum of the TV. She returned a few minutes later, balancing a tray in her hands with an assortment of items.

“Okay, so here’s the plan,” she said, placing the tray on the coffee table and sitting down beside you. “We’ve got soup—nothing fancy, just chicken noodle. Tea with honey because you sound like a frog. A cool washcloth and some medicine for that fever.”

You wrinkled your nose at the sight of the medicine. “No way. That stuff is disgusting.”

Emily raised an eyebrow. “It’s not up for debate. You’re taking it.”

“I don’t need it,” you insisted, crossing your arms. “I’ll just sleep it off.”

“Babe.” Emily gave you a look that was somehow both stern and affectionate. “You can barely sit up without looking like you’re about to pass out. The medicine will help.”

You shook your head stubbornly, burying yourself deeper in the blanket. “I’ll manage.”

Emily sighed dramatically, sitting on the couch beside you. “Okay, fine. Let’s try this another way. If you take the medicine, I’ll let you pick whatever we watch tonight. Anything you want.”

You peeked out from under the blanket, eyeing her suspiciously. “Even if it’s one of those cheesy rom-coms you always complain about?”

“Even those,” she conceded with a smirk. “I’ll sit through the entire thing without making one sarcastic comment. That’s how much I love you.”

You pouted but eventually relented, sticking out your hand. “Fine. Give it to me.”

Emily grinned triumphantly, pouring the dose and handing it to you. “See? That wasn’t so hard.”

You downed the medicine with a dramatic grimace, shuddering at the taste. “Ugh, you’re lucky I love you.”

“I know,” she teased, leaning over to kiss your temple. “And now you’ll feel better in no time.”

“You’re too good to me,” you whispered, your voice raspy.

“Of course I am,” she replied, brushing a strand of hair out of your face with a soft smile. “I love you, and I can’t have my girl feeling like this.”

Her words made your chest ache in a way that had nothing to do with being sick. You mustered the energy to smile back at her as she tucked the blanket more securely around your shoulders. She handed you some tea, holding the mug steady while you took a sip. The warmth soothed your sore throat instantly.

“Better?” she asked.

You nodded. “A little bit.”

“Good.” Emily reached for the washcloth she’d prepared, gently dabbing it against your forehead. Her touch was cool and soothing, and you let your eyes flutter shut as she worked. “You’re stuck with me today, by the way. No arguments. I’m officially your personal nurse.”

You cracked an eye open, looking up at her. “Does that mean I can boss you around?”

She chuckled, the sound low and comforting. “Don’t push your luck. Now eat your soup before it gets cold.”

Obediently, you took a few bites, the warm broth doing wonders for your aching body. Emily stayed by your side, occasionally checking your forehead and making sure you were sipping your tea. When you finally set the empty bowl back on the tray, she settled in beside you, pulling you into her side.

“Let’s put something on to distract you,” she said, grabbing the remote. “What do you feel like watching?”

“Something we’ve seen a million times,” you murmured, your head resting on her shoulder. “I don’t have the brainpower to keep up with anything new.”

She smiled and put on your favorite show, the familiar theme music filling the room. Her arm draped around your shoulders, pulling you closer as the two of you sank into the couch. You could feel the steady rhythm of her breathing, her presence grounding you in a way that nothing else could.

As the day went on, she stayed by your side, only getting up to grab refills of tea or adjust the blanket when you shifted uncomfortably. When you dozed off, she brushed your hair out of your face and pressed a kiss to your temple. And when you woke up, feeling groggy but slightly better, she was still there, scrolling through her phone with the volume turned low so she wouldn’t disturb you.

“You’re still here?” you asked, your voice thick with sleep.

Emily looked up, her lips quirking into a smile. “Of course I am. Where else would I be?”

You reached for her hand, squeezing it weakly. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

Her smile softened, and she leaned down to kiss your forehead again. “You just have to be you. That’s more than enough.”

As the sun set and the room grew dim, Emily helped you get ready for bed, practically carrying you when your legs felt wobbly. She tucked you in, making sure the extra blankets were just right before climbing in beside you.

“You’re not gonna get sick, are you?” you asked, your voice filled with worry.

“If I do, you can take care of me next time,” she teased, wrapping her arms around you. “But for now, don’t worry about me. Just rest, babe. I’ve got you.”

With her warmth beside you and her steady breathing lulling you to sleep, you knew that even on your worst days, Emily would always make everything better.

[shy-canadian-snowflake]

Not Sober Pt 2

“Hm. Morning baby.” Wade said softly, reaching out for Logan. Logan rolled over and faced the other, a frown on his face. It took a second for Wade to clue in. “Oh.”

“Oh? Oh is all you have to say? Wade, you got stoned last night.” Logan shook his head. “Your doctor told you- you know better. It can worsen your delusions.” 

“I’m not sorry.” The man stated, sitting up. Logan joined him and reached for his hand. Wade wanted to pull away but didn’t. Logan intertwined their fingers. 

“Talk Mouth. Explain to me so I can understand why the hell you’d put your mental health at risk. You’ve been doing so good.” Wade’s lips twitched up into a sad smile as he took Logan’s hand and pressed it into his cheek. He nuzzled into the warm palm and let out a long sigh. 

“I felt like I could control the chaos in my head. Sober me has been getting his fucking ass kicked. My brain is telling me I'm an awful human who only harms people, who only brings fucking suffering and sadness and despair. That there’s a ‘But’ when you say you are happy that I’m still alive.” 

“Darlin. I am happy you are here.” Wade shook his head slowly and pulled Logan’s hand into his lap. He pressed on different parts of his palm, massaging it out. 

“It still feels like there’s a ‘But’. But not really. But only when you are having a good day. But only when you are useful. It’s stupid.”

“It is fucking stupid because it’s not fucking true. I’ll love you bad day or good Bub.” Wake looked at him with a weak smile before going back to playing with his hand.

“Weed helps. I can see my own mental health in the maze that is my head. I can handle the world with all its fucking bullshit, I can understand the situation going on without feeling crippling panic. Everything is in neat tidy boxes that I can grab and organize and file everything away.” He gave a weak laugh, shaking his head. “ It might take me a few more minutes to do things or get the words out but I feel like a functional person who can work, who can do things. I feel like a normal person. I feel okay. I feel real.”

“You are real Wade.” 

“Yeah Well.” He turned Logan's hand over to trace the veins on the back of it. “I don’t fucking feel like it.”

There was a moment of silence as each man took a moment to collect their thoughts. Wade was the first to break the silence, like he always was.

“When I’m sober, I’m locked in a room of dark spaghetti and I can’t get out. I’m drowning in fear of what is going on in the world, the fact that we have a billionaire that’s getting a little too close to being a well known dictator with a horrible taste in mustaches. All of these noodles of despair and fear. Time does repeat and we don’t learn and the sun is going to blow up one day so is it even worth anything and I’m just so scared and I feel like I’ll never not be scared and- and Weed quiets all that. Weed brings me to the chaos I can control. I can consent too. My brain is making me think and feel things without my consent.”

“Okay.” Logan said slowly, throwing an arm around the other and pulling him close. Wade head butted him which he did so back, “What can I do to help?”

“Let me smoke weed without judgment.” 

“And what is your head saying to ya?” Wade hated that Logan always knew when he wasn’t all right. Sometimes it was great when he was questioning his own reality. Questioning if something is really there. It’s not so great when the voices in his ear are telling him things that make sense to him, but he knows won’t make sense to another living soul. It was like messages only for him to understand. Spoken in an old  language only he understood. 

“If I can break my ankle I’ll be in control of my chaos. My mind won’t control me today.” He sighed out, not bothering to fight. 

“That’s why you shouldn’t do weed, darlin. It’s telling you things that aren’t true.”

“They feel fucking true. Can I just die for a few hours and wake up with a better head?” 

“Al will be pissed if we got more blood and guts on this couch.” Wade flopped back onto the pull-out, sighing loudly. 

“I don’t want to fight Logan. I want my mind to be silent for one goddamn day.” There was a warble to his voice as he spoke. Logan laid down beside him, pulling him close- chest to back. He tucked his legs behind Wades, causing the man to curl up a bit more. His arm thrown over Wade’s chest made sure to keep his hand pressed into Wade’s heart, feeling the beating of it through the shirt he wore. 

“Do the meds. Do the meetings. Do what you got to. You will have a quiet day again Wade.”

“I doubt it.” 

“You will.” And Logan spoke with such certainty that Wade wanted to believe.

---

I'm having a real fucking hard time. My brain is saying to break my ankle. It makes sense too. If I do, the pain will override my brain and I won't have to be so fucking scared of everything. Future me- Don't smoke weed, it's not worth this fucking dark puddle.

[deezee112]

The worst ending 17 : Digital Chains

The worst ending 16 | The worst ending 18

Yandere!Idia Shroud x GN!Reader

A/N : The ending was so bad I don't know why. I was like, huh and huh. How did I do that? Excuse me?

If you finish reading it and feel confused about it, that's okay, I'm confused too ( and I don't like it -_- )

Warning : psychological horror , digital imprisonment, and loss of autonomy. It explores manipulation , isolation , and an unsettling descent into , A writer who is very lazy because he has too much work to do.

Tags :

@iris-arcadia @yuu-twisted

If you want me to tag you please tell me.

English is not my first language.

The dim glow of a computer monitor flickered against the walls, casting strange, shifting shadows. You sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the small boy curled up in front of the screen, his bright blue hair glowing faintly in the darkness. He had been quiet since you brought him home—never speaking, never responding to your questions. He only tilted his head when you called out to him, as if processing the words like a machine booting up for the first time.

" You don't have a name, do you? " you asked softly, reaching out a hand toward him.

The boy turned to face you, his golden eyes wide and glowing like embers in the dim room. He didn’t speak. He only blinked slowly, as if waiting for you to continue.

" Then I'll give you one. " you said, offering him a smile. " Idia. How about that? "

He tilted his head again, then slowly, cautiously, a small smile stretched across his lips. He nodded once.

" Idia it is. " you murmured, relieved. " I hope we can stay together. "

Raising Idia was unlike anything you had experienced before. At first, he was silent, expressing himself only through slight nods, shrugs, and the occasional twitch of his lips. But as time passed, and as he spent more time glued to the screen, he began to mimic the voices from his games—first in short, awkward phrases, then in full sentences.

" You need to get out of your room sometimes, Idia. " you scolded one afternoon, standing in his doorway with your arms crossed.

" I'm grinding... " he muttered without looking away from the screen, fingers tapping furiously at the keyboard.

" You've been grinding for three days straight. "

" So close to max level... "

" Idia— "

" I'm in the zone, y/n! "

His voice had that mix of dramatic desperation and excitement that only a true gamer could muster. You sighed, rubbing your temples.

" This isn't healthy. You need sunlight. "

" Vitamin D supplements exist. " he countered.

You rolled your eyes and grabbed his legs, dragging him toward the doorway.

" W-Wait! No! I'm going to the room! " he shouted, clawing at the doorframe in sheer panic. His fingers tightened their grip with a strength fueled by desperation. With one last burst of effort, he twisted free and scrambled back inside, slamming the door behind him.

Damn...

If Idia had one weakness, it was his love for instant noodles. Every night, long after you had gone to bed, you would hear the soft creak of his door, the shuffle of slippered feet, and the rustle of plastic as he rummaged through the kitchen.

One night, you decided to catch him in the act. You waited in the dark, listening to the familiar sound of the microwave beeping. The second he tore open the lid, you flipped on the lights.

" Aha! "

Idia flinched, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights. " y/n—! "

Before he could react, you snatched the noodles from his hands.

" Don't take it! " he wailed, immediately lunging forward and wrapping his arms around your leg like a child throwing a tantrum.

" You need to eat real food, Idia. " you chided, lifting the noodles out of his reach.

" These are real food! "

" You need vegetables. Protein. Not just sodium and regret. "

He clung to your leg with the strength of a desperate man, burying his face into your knee. " Please, I'll die without it! "

" You won't. " you deadpanned.

He groaned dramatically but eventually let go, shuffling back to his room in defeat. You placed the noodles back in the pantry, shaking your head.

This boy was hopeless..

As the years passed, Idia’s attachment to you deepened. He was still a recluse, still reluctant to leave his room, but he always kept tabs on you. Whether it was through cameras he secretly installed around the apartment or through hacked security feeds, he always knew where you were.

It was subtle at first—offhanded comments about what you were doing, even when he wasn’t in the room. But then, he started interfering.

" y/n, you shouldn’t go to the convenience store today. " he said one morning, not looking up from his laptop.

" Why not? "

" There’s a…um, 73% chance of encountering creeps today. Just stay home. "

You narrowed your eyes. " How do you even know that? "

" Instincts. " he said quickly, hiding his screen.

It was creepy, but you figured he just worried about you. After all, he didn’t have much experience socializing.

If only you had realized sooner.

One day, Idia’s behavior became noticeably strange. He stopped gaming as much. He barely spoke. He didn’t even attempt to sneak out for noodles. He just…watched you.

" Idia, are you feeling okay? " you asked, peeking into his room.

He sat at his desk, unmoving, his golden eyes flickering with unreadable emotions. He didn’t respond immediately.

Finally, he murmured, " I had a nightmare. "

" What kind of nightmare? " you asked gently, stepping closer.

" One where you left me. " he whispered. " Where you disappeared. And I couldn’t bring you back. "

You sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. " Idia, that’s not going to happen. "

He let out a bitter laugh. " You say that, but humans are unpredictable. Reality is unfair. If I could just…keep you here forever… "

Something in his voice sent a chill down your spine.

" Idia… "

His fingers twitched. " I found a way to make sure you never leave. "

One night, you woke up with a splitting headache, your body feeling heavy and unresponsive. The room around you was unfamiliar—cold, metallic, filled with blinking screens. A monitor in front of you flickered to life, revealing Idia’s face.

" Ah…You’re awake. " he murmured, his golden eyes glowing softly.

" Idia…? What’s going on? "

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. " Okay, so, um. Don’t be mad. But I kinda…uploaded your consciousness into a digital simulation. "

Your blood ran cold. " You what...? "

" You kept trying to leave, y/n. " he said, his voice uncharacteristically serious. " I couldn’t risk it. So I made sure you’d always be here. With me. "

You struggled, but your body wouldn’t move.

" Don’t worry. " he continued, his tone almost soothing. " I made it nice. Just like our home. You won’t even notice the difference after a while. "

Panic surged through you. " Idia, this isn’t right! You can’t— "

" But I can. " he interrupted. " And I did. "

The screen flickered, distorting his face into static. " You’re mine now, y/n. Forever. "

And just like that, the simulation closed in around you. A perfect, digital world where you would never escape. Where Idia would always be watching.

Smiling.

Waiting.

Loving you in the only way he knew how.

[reve-de-sang]

prompt fills! @theninjazebra requested “Human au rockstar lestat, with magnus still around somehow?” and @framblebee requested pregnant lestat

this clicked with a WIP i've been noodling around with since early 2024 but currently has an uncertain future despite my fondness for it; seemed like a good time to polish up what i've got and just put it out there, even if it's only to be in pieces. but uh. also, i apologize to theninjazebra & framblebee, bc this bit's pretty damn dead dove

Vampires Are Known au set 20 years in our future. human rockstar Lestat and ex-flame Louis, Lestat's agent Armand, shady oligarch superfan Magnus, hacker Claudia.

“A collaboration, with Louis,” Armand was saying. “Then a tour perhaps, depending. Yes?”

Armand was talking to him. Or at him. Kneeling at his bedside. Lestat thought this was one of those centers where they left you alone, wrapped you in cotton wool. He didn’t actually know—maybe there were meant to be medications handed out in small paper cups (they wouldn’t, given his condition, he assumed) and groups of people sitting in circles Lestat would never be able to join, because NDA or no, it would always, always end up published somewhere—

“Yes, it is actually one of those centers,” Armand said. “But you’ve been here four months, and Marius thought creativity might be the better medicine after all.” Armand studied him. “You were using the mind gift again just now.”

Lestat closed his eyes in pain. Fuck. He was never going to get used to this.

“Four months?”

“Yes.”

“Louis.”

“Yes. He’s already agreed.”

Lestat sighed explosively and turned over onto his back to stare at the ceiling. “Well that’s humiliating.”

“Why?”

Lestat turned his head to give him the full force of his glare. “Are you telling me he actually wants to do this for the music, not out of pity?”

Armand considered this. Lestat hated that Armand’s presence could actually be quite calming, when he wanted it to be. Armand’s mouth gave the suggestion of a smile, and Lestat assumed he was accidentally using the fucking mind gift again.

“Can it not be both? Creative interest and—not pity, but support, because he cares about you and wants to be there for you right now.”

“We haven’t talked in years. I don’t even know who he is anymore.”

“Oh, now you’re just being dramatic.”

Lestat felt a pout coming on, and turned his glare back to the ceiling.

“So you’re busting me out of here.”

“Right now.”

Lestat sighed, and shifted his body to sitting. He tugged his shirt down over the swell. “Do not look at it, do not comment on it, tell me you brought a massive coat, a hat, and big fuck-off celebrity sunglasses.”

Armand wordlessly plucked up a Balenciaga overnight bag at his side, the “bitch, please,” unspoken. Lestat nodded, only slightly contrite.

—

It hadn’t been years since he’d talked to Louis. It had been months. And they hadn’t spoken since. The night before—before. But Armand didn’t need to know that.

And the horrifying mess that Lestat’s life was right now should have made Armand’s suggestion such a hard no for Lestat that planes passing overhead would have been able to hear Lestat’s shouting.

But there wasn’t anyone Lestat wanted to see more.

He didn’t care about awkward. Fuck pity. Fuck a collaboration. He just wanted to look at Louis. And then he would figure out where to go from there.

—

Four months ago.

It had hit all the news pages in a tidal wave. The hotel suite rooms, the bed soaked in blood, blood on the walls, on the carpet, streaking the tile in the bathroom. Bloody handprints on the bathroom mirror. Furniture broken like the detritus of a weather event. The horror of Lestat’s victimization had lasted 72 hours, and then, as if it were unendurable by the collective psyche, the reaction pivoted to disbelief, blame, and mockery.

Even the most ardent fans disavowed Lestat, posting conjecture on his either orchestrating this or deserving it for obviously seducing such a powerful vampire. His detractors applauded what they decided was a naked power grab: that he was showing his true colors. Defenders turned into apologists.

(read more)

[ivalice-tifalucis]

With the release of From The Rehearsal Room - Tokyo to Ramin's youtube I finally, finally, continue and finish this side project I'm doing.

Initially, I used AI to mastered it because the first version I got from bilibili were not in good quality but I wasn't satisfied and I found the much better quality. But with Ramin uploaded it to youtube, I re did all the mastering just with audacity for both Part 1 and Part 2. The Part 2 is still from the better version I found from bilibili, by the way.

What you need to do is just download the file and put it on your music player. The metadata is all completed as if it's whole legit album. Enjoy, guys!!

And I'm being weird so all the lyrics that are put there are from my listening although I still use what I found online but I still listened and compared. They made few ad-libs and changes and I notice because for the songs that I wasn't familiar, the lyric that I found online and what they sang was slightly different. Perhaps they sing the newer version of the lyrics or mistakes? Even each Sheytoons songs they sing one in both parts differ from the ones I found online.

Another sample from my favorite:

Source and Credits Part 1 | Part 2 (Ramin's upload) Album cover Photos

Vocal & Guitar: Ramin Karimloo, Hadley Fraser Piano: Ryohei Mori

[attroxx]

“make a witch oc” the devil whispers into my ear.

[vampirebiter]

i want mac and cheese but i dont want to have to get up and walk over to the house and make it. sigh... suffering....

[selfspinninglies]

oh god I haven't drawn any full pieces of art in 10 days who am I

[chmerical-a]

it's 9pm & i'm finally settled at home!!! there's no way i'm getting unpacking done so i'll be vibin & catching up on dms! hope ur sunday has been amazing!

[pseudowho]

"You know, Nanamin," Yuuji started, between mouthfuls, "when we first met, I thought I wouldn't like you at all."

Kento raised one thin eyebrow over the rim of his paper-cup coffee. He sat with you, and Yuuji, at a dirt road Conbini overlooking Tokyo. The sun was setting, casting the city as a silhouette against oranges, purples. You could smell the earthy petrichor of an incoming storm. Yuuji did not mind, thoughtful as he slurped at an instant ramen.

"Like, really," Yuuji continued, his mouth puckered up, "I thought you were boring. Unfunny, grumpy, miserable. Maybe even a little bit mean." Yuuji laughed now, becoming gradually more animated as he set the scene. "And when you tried to lecture me, while I was fighting that curse? Insane. I was like, 'Who the hell is this guy?'"

You covered your mouth, hiding a smile, eyes flicking between your unreadable husband, and the bubbling boy opposite him. Yuuji finished laughing, wiping his eyes and sighing into another slurp of noodles.

You placed a surreptitious hand on Kento's thigh under the table, and he barely reacted, but to tense and cross his arms. Yuuji rested his chin on one hand, eyes softening as he looked over the ant-like lights, moving in scattered formation across the city.

"But then...I realised. You just cared. I mean, really cared. About me. And if I wasn't being treated right. And if I was gonna be okay." Yuuji swallowed, his voice thickening. "And I...didn't have anyone left like that. The only person I ever did have was my grandad, and maybe he just took care of me because he had to, y'know? But you chose to. Even though I'm...I'm a monster."

You saw Kento squirm within. You knew he'd had his misgivings about Sukuna's Vessel, before Kento knew him as Yuuji. You knew the shame and guilt Kento carried for that. His shoulders ached, a pall-bearer of emotions for so many.

"And you're hilarious. Anyone can see it, really. And you're a rebel. And a protester. And you stand up for the little guy when nobody else wants to. And you don't do it to make us like you. You just...believe it's right. And don't get me wrong, I like Gojo-sensei too, but I love you."

You pursed your lips, closing your eyes and trying not to tear up on Kento's behalf. Kento remained silent, arms crossed and frowning down at his steaming coffee. Yuuji looked at you, uncertain. You gently flapped one hand; don't worry, you're alright, you're okay.

Kento eventually broke his silence, his voice gruff. He pushed his bank card across the table to Yuuji.

"Itadori-kun." Yuuji sat to attention, wide-eyed. "Go and get yourself some snacks. As much as you like. And the other students, too, if you know what they'd want."

Yuuji took the card in confusion, with both hands and a little bow, and disappeared inside the shop, the automatic doors booping behind him.

Kento stood, your hand falling off his lap, and grasped the metal railings overlooking the city, with his back to you. His shoulders were taut, stiff, occasionally hitching with emotion. You felt him, as you always had.

"...Kento? Are you alright?"

A thick swallow and a sniffle before a single gravelly, "Yeah. I'm fine, I...I'm fine."

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

shoto todoroki is fucking shameless. and surprisingly clingy.

he’d done a good job becoming a little more social little by little. he’s still a little wonky and awkward during the few times he tries to make conversation, but he tries and that’s the good part. you’re proud of him.

you’ve known shoto since you were kids, his closest friend, you’d seen him through it all and you’re so grateful that he’s found friends he feels comfortable and happy with, though he always reassures you that you’re dearest to him, which always makes you a little too giddy and flustered for somebody who’s supposed to be his closest friend and nothing more.

you’re in the cafeteria chatting with your mutual friends, shoto had told you to go off without him since he needed to go the bathroom and you found yourself sitting next to midoriya when he’d scooched in next to you, happy to see there was still a spot for him at the table. you liked midoriya a lot, he was sweet, cute and most importantly he made shoto come out of his shell in a way that you regrettably never could, plus the way he flails around when he gets embarrassed is pretty funny.

(you did notice ochaco’s face going completely blank for a few seconds, but you didn’t think much about it.)

after a few minutes of giggling and chatting shoto shows up, and something is immediately wrong with the way his natural straight face goes absolutely dead in the span of three seconds. it’s subtle, but you know him and it’s there. there also seems to be a chill in the room now.

he’s at your side of the table in three seconds, but he doesn’t register your smile in greeting as his cold gaze is glued to the green haired boy next to you.

“midoriya,” and his voice even sounds a little deeper, colder as he speaks like he somehow managed to use his right side on his mouth.

“that’s my seat.” he states calmly.

“oh ! my bad, todoroki !” izuku splutters an apology, but shoto’s eyes do not waver, staying fixed on the boy until he grabs his tray and makes a move to stand “i didn’t realize this was your spot, sorry !”

you feel a little bad at how intensely he’s apologizing, but you’re still shell shocked about that look. shoto seems unfazed though, his expression morphs slightly when izuku goes to squeeze in next to iida.

“i always sit next to yn.”

it’s so stupid. really, it is. how fast that makes your heart beat. because shoto does always sit next to you, he always has and he still always does when you come over to his house. but it’s the fact that he didn’t say he always sits here, in his unassigned assigned seat.

he said he always sits next to you. and your mind and heart races.

you don’t get much time to think because immediately he’s next to you, sighing before sitting as close to you as he can. he looks over to you and you look back, still a little startle but his features are soft again when he looks at you. he drops his utensils to thread his fingers with yours under the table.

“ did you wash your hands, mister ?” you tease, but you squeeze his hand when he squeezes yours. he frowns but it’s not the one from before. it almost looks like a pout and you snort.

“yes, i did.” he snips, you giggle and his eyes soften. even as you assure him you were just kidding he doesn’t mind, he couldn’t be mad at you.

you offer him a bite of your lunch as truce and he leans forward and plops a piece in his mouth from your chopsticks, then offers you a bit of his precious soba noodles and even holds a hand below them so they don’t spill because he insists on feeding you himself.

your friends pretend they don’t see the lowkey romantic exchange, but with the way shoto keeps insisting to have you eat his food and the soft barely there smile when you crack a joke that manages to break through his icey demeanor, they can start to figure out why he wanted to sit next to you so bad.

[jaeyunnz]

Tasting temptations

jake + f¡reader — ♡

WARNINGS — dom!jake, reader¡sub, riding him while he's eating, hair pulling, grinding, raw sex (stay safe, don't do it.) he calls her slut once, praising and pet names.

Note : my first post on here, i hope i did good! i haven't wrote in a while, i just got back into it — (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) this is proofread !!!!

It was a normal night, jake just got home from work and made himself a quick meal, ramen. He was in the living room, sitting on the couch with his bowl of ramen on the coffee table, eating quietly. Jake is oblivious to how needy you've been feeling lately, especially with him rarely home. You slowly made your way over to the living room, standing infront of him which causes him to lift his head up, looking up at you with wide eyes and still chewing on his food.

"hey baby. you want some?" He lifts up his bowl to you and you nod. "come sit with me baby." He pats the empty space next to him, but instead of doing that you settled on his lap. Jake lets out a quiet groan, placing the bowl back on the table and props his hands on your hips. Your arms immediately going around his neck as you lean in to place small kisses on his collbarbone which is showing due to his black tanktop.

Jake lets out a soft sigh, caressing your back with small circles. Your kisses trailing up to his neck now, gently nibbling at his skin. "mm?... whats this about?" He chuckles a bit and you raise your head up to look at him, locking eyecontact for a moment. "What do you mean?" you say quietly. He raises an eyebrow, replying back with, "i dunno... you just seem... intense?" he searches for your eyes once more, tilting his head.

"Really? Well im... fine." he looks unamused but grabs his bowl, continuing to slurp up his noodles. The heat beneath you guys becomes evident, and you unintentionally move your hips for more friction. Jake lets out a soft grunt, causing him to slightly choke on his noodles. "b...baby what are you doing?-" your now practically humping his thigh slowly like a dog in heat. He swallows hard on his food, his lips slightly parting as he watches you.

"fuck- baby hold on..." hes trying to regain his composure while your panting heavily, looking at him with desperate eyes. "Mmph... jake i need you." He gulps, letting out a soft whimper as you swirl your hips around his lap causing his body to tremble slightly. "need me... for what, baby?" he murmurs, voice breathy and eyes wide with realization. he swallows hard, his cock already twitching in his sweatpants at your sensual movements. "...ohhh..."

Jake takes another bite out of his ramen, he's trying to eat and finish up faster but its hard when your moving on his lap. "baby let me just finish eating real quick-" Its too late though, your already fondling with his belt, in a desperate attempt to undo it. He doesn't stop you, instead he watches, the food being forgotten.

Once you finally undo his belt, you throw it aside, working on his zipper now. You notice the tent in his pants, and he slightly jerks his hips upward. "fuck baby..." You glance at him, tugging his pants down to his hips before asking, "You gonna finish eating or no? Because i wont wait." He takes another bite out of his noodles with shakey hands, he's halfway done but with you literally stripping him, he keeps getting distracted. "im trying y'know. but its hard when your...-" At this point your desperate so you just pull his boxers down.

His aching cock finally springs free. His hands are so shakey he can barely grip on the chopsticks to continue eating. "I forgot how big you are..." you say, causing his cock to twitch. You then slide your hand down, fingertips tracing the slim and long base. He arches his back, almost dropping the bowl. "ahh... fuckk..." he moans out, struggling to say coherent words. "Im barely touching you." Your hand finally wraps around the veiny shaft, his hips snapping upwards in desperation for more of your touch. "So sensitive..."

You stroke his length up and down a few times while he bites his lower lip to surpress a moan. "sit on it please h...hahhh.." he mumbles, barely audible before moving the bowl aside. He hasnt finished eating but at this point he doesnt care, he needs you. Finally, you shove down your shorts and panties, he watches as you do so and immediately goes to grab your ass. He lifts his hips up slightly, the tip rubbing against your bare slit which causes you to gasp and throw your head back. "Ahh jake..." gripping onto his shoulders, you finally sink down onto his length, only halfway though since he's big.

"fuck babygirl!" he moans out loudly, digging his nails into your hips. Your body is already shaking but you havent even taken it all yet. "shit your so tight..." his words made your eyes roll back, and with one swift movement you finally sink all the way down, taking every inch of him. You let out a loud moan that echoes around the living room, jakes mouth is slightly opened from the pleasure of being inside of you almost too much. After a few seconds of adjusting to his size, you slowly start moving up and down on his cock.

Jake tilts his head back against the couch, his hand on the small of your back. "So big-..." you whine out, gripping tightly on his shoulders for leverage as you begin to bounce up and down on his cock wildy. The quiet room being filled with nothing but skin slapping against skin.

"Ahhhh... ohhh..." is all that came out of your mouth. "princess... your riding it like a pro," He breathes out. Your lost in pleasure, whimpering and moaning loud enough for the neighbours to hear. "F...fuck jake, it feels so-..." his large hands wrap around your waist, helping you keep up with your pace on his cock. "yeah?... yeah it feels good baby?" He says with shakey breaths in between, "fuckkk yeah... your riding my cock stupid arent you slut? cant speak huh?" His dirty talk just makes your whole body tremble, almost completely losing it. "please... dont stop baby..."

You move your hips in a circle motion, his length plunging so deep inside of you it feels like your in ecstasy. His thick cock splitting your pussy open and stretching your inner walls to the limit. "J..jake i might-" you get cut off when you feel him slam his hips upward, bucking his hips wildly causing a loud scream of pleasure to come out of your mouth. He leans forward, sucking a hickey into the soft flesh of your neck as he continues to ruthlessly pump his cock in and out of your sopping wet pussy. Slightly pulling your hair back.

"what was that babygirl?" He grunts out, chuckling softly, "I... im gonna cum!" Your voice is high pitched as he holds you in place, bouncing you aggressively on his shaft. "cum for me princess..." and with that, you reached your climax, cumming hard on his dick. Jake's cock was pulsing violently inside you. "fuck yeah..." He lets out a loud, animalistic grunt as he starts to cum, his hot load erupting deep inside your pussy in thick, powerful spurts. "FUCK!" He shouts in pleasure, his head falling back against the couch as you collapse ontop of him.

The both of you are breathless for a few moments before you speak up quietly, "Was it good?" Jake pants heavily, a bead of sweat dripping down his forehead. "damn near broke my dick it was so good..." He kisses your throat, his hands roaming back down to grab your thighs and caress them softly. "shit, i love you princess," He whispers softly into your ear. "I love you too baby," you reply.

💘: ok i ended up writing a bit more than intended!!!! Anyways i hope this was good AHH💕

[onceinablueberrymoon]

intentionally by chance | husband!salesman x pregnant!reader

scenario: a month after seeing the salesman on his way to the airport, gi-hun returns to that subway station every day, hoping to find the salesman and confront him. this is where you come in. setting: takes place after the events of season 1, but before gi-hun hires the loan shark group to search for the salesman warnings: deception; pregnant!reader; no use of y/n; second person POV word count: 1.3k notes: salesman fluff! ♡ this guy’s been plaguing my thoughts for weeks now, so i had to write about him. my first fic in years! i like to think that S1 salesman is more chill than in S2. please enjoy! part 2 here! borders by @strangergraphics-archive

“Excuse me… Can you please help me?”

The red-haired man, who was perusing the endless options of cup ramyeon, turned in your direction, but remained planted a few feet away from you. 

“Me?” He pointed at himself.

You nodded, adjusting the items you were holding in your arms. “Can you grab me that cup of ramyeon from the shelf? I’d get it, but my hands are full…” 

The man walked over and retrieved your cup of ramyeon. As he handed it to you, he noticed your pronounced bump under your sweater and furrowed his eyebrows. 

“Miss, you’re in no condition to be carrying so much. Please, let me help you bring it to the checkout.”

With your approval, he unloaded the rest of your snacks into his arms. The two of you walked to the register, where you insisted on paying for his own cup of ramyeon. You suggested eating the ramyeon at one of the tables outside the subway station’s convenience store, but he insisted on sitting on a bench on the subway platform. 

“Is there a particular reason you wanted to eat here? It’s not the most ideal dining spot…” You slurped your noodles happily. The man ate slowly, popping his head up every so often and eyeing his surroundings carefully. 

“I’m… looking for something. Nothing you should worry yourself with,” he continued to eat his food while you gave him a skeptical look.

“Perhaps I could help? Well, as long as I don’t have to move very much,” you chuckled, patting your stomach. He gave you a soft smile before changing the topic. 

“Shouldn’t your husband be buying you food instead of you coming to get it yourself?” He gestured to your bag of snacks, and you giggled.

“My husband buys me all the food I want, but sometimes I just want to get out of the house! It’s no fun being cooped up all day,” you sighed. The man nodded in understanding. 

“It’s also nice to talk to other people, like you,” you smiled at him. He returned your smile, but then his eyebrows shot up when a sharp smack echoed throughout the platform. 

The man jumped up, his cup ramyeon forgotten on the bench. You turned to see where the noise had come from, only to find a group of students huddled around another student who had dropped their textbooks on the ground. From what you could hear, it seemed like they were holding them for a friend but couldn’t handle the weight.

The red-haired man froze for a few seconds, then sat back down, heaving a big sigh. 

“Are you alright, sir? There’s nothing to worry about – it was just some books that fell.” You tried to comfort the man in some way, but he brushed the incident off. 

“I’m fine. It just… reminded me of something,” he tried his best to give you a reassuring smile, but it didn’t convince you. “Don’t worry about me. Please eat,” he gestured to your unfinished ramyeon, “you need strength for your baby.”

The rest of your time together was pleasant, but you were still not convinced that the man’s reaction was nothing. You both finished your noodles, disposing the packaging and your utensils before parting ways. 

Once you returned home, you put the remaining snacks away and settled on the sofa. There were still a few hours before your husband was due home. You got yourself comfortable, curled up under a blanket, and drifted off to sleep.

“Rough day?”

You cracked open your eyes. All you could see was a blurry grey shape, but you already knew who it was. 

Blinking your eyes a few times, your husband’s handsome face came into focus, with his usually crisp grey suit looking a bit creased. His usual smirk graced his face as he looked down at you on the sofa.

“I should be asking you that. What happened to your suit?” You sat up and he sat down next to you, leaning his head on your shoulder.

“One prospective player became violent when he lost at ddakji for the 20th time in a row. Of course, I was able to subdue him, but it took more effort than usual,” your husband tried to press down a crease on his sleeve, but to no avail. He rested a hand on your rounded belly, gently rubbing circles with his fingers.

“How was today? I trust you succeeded in your mission?” 

You scoffed, “He was exactly where you said he’d be. I was able to have a conversation with him. We even ate ramyeon together for lunch!” 

Your husband turned to face you, an eyebrow raised. “You ate ramyeon together?” He gave a small pout, “I thought I was the only one you ate ramyeon with.”

Immediately, your face flustered as you explained yourself, “Hey, you know that I would never cheat!” Then, you scoffed, “We ate cup ramyeon, alright? Not whatever fantasy you’re imagining in that head of yours.” He laughed, pecking you on the cheek.

“Oh, but I have some exciting news,” you said with a sparkle in your eyes. “He’s still looking for you. And he’s basically gone mad trying to find you.” This caught your husband’s attention.

“While we were eating, there was a loud noise. Turned out that a kid dropped their books. But Gi-hun didn’t know that. He shot up so fast I swear I thought he was possessed!” 

Your husband seemed to take in your findings carefully, continuing his circles on your bump as if they helped him focus. 

“He wouldn’t tell me what he was looking for, but he specifically wanted us to sit on the subway platform, so I think it’s safe to say he’s searching for you.” Your husband had previously informed you that he had spotted a player he had already recruited at the Incheon Airport subway station, albeit with flaming red hair. After talking with the Frontman, he confirmed that Seong Gi-hun was indeed the winner of the 33rd edition of the Games. 

Once you shared the rest of your intel with your husband, you let out a big sigh. 

“Should I meet with Gi-hun again? It’d be useful to know his location and I could maybe gather more info,” you looked at your husband who had since sat up, but he didn’t take his hand off your bump. 

He pondered your question for a moment. “While I would benefit from knowing his whereabouts, I’m more afraid of something happening to you,” his voice sounded strained. “I wouldn’t be there to protect you and our child.” 

You leaned onto his shoulder, resting a hand on top of his on your belly. “We’ll be fine. If anything, Gi-hun was also concerned for me because of the baby,” you winked. “Maybe they’re the key to earning his trust.” 

Your husband’s lips tightened into a straight line. While he wasn’t happy that you would spend time with someone who clearly despised him, you were right — your pregnancy would lower Gi-hun’s defenses. You knew how much your husband’s schedule was impacted by Gi-hun’s constant presence on the AREX subway line. It would greatly help your husband if you could keep Gi-hun at one station while he recruited prospective players for the Games. 

Your husband kissed the crown of your head and stood up, attempting once again to smooth out the crease on his sleeve. “We’ll see. I’ll talk to the Frontman to see if we can get you any additional protection. I still don’t like the idea of you being around Gi-hun alone. If he learns of our relationship, I imagine he will use you as ransom,” he clicks his tongue, “We can’t have that now, can we?” 

You shook your head and stood up next to your husband. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him. 

“For now, continue researching prospective players. I’m almost done with your last batch,” he flashed his signature smirk, which you returned with a soft smile of your own.

“On it. Rumour has it that Tapgol Park has an abundance of people down on their luck…”

[fxstpace]

“wonwoo,” you whisper, nudging his ankle with a sock-clad foot. “wonwoo, wake up.”

he grunts and mumbles something unintelligible, before his lips part and he lets out a soft snore. his hair is a mess—probably because he never seems to stay still when he’s asleep. you reach out and gently trail a finger down the bridge of his nose.

“wonwoo,” you try again. he shivers involuntarily. “baby, darling, light of my life. sugarplum. rubber duck. love boat.”

“i’m going to break up with you if you call me that again,” your boyfriend finally says, opening his eyes and squinting at you. you grin. he sighs, though it’s not a weary sound. more fond than anything else. loving, in the way only jeon wonwoo is. “what do you want?”

you lean over him, elbow brushing over his chest, and try to switch on the lamp placed on the bedside table. fumbling for the switch, you flick it on and blink when the room floods with soft amber light. you kick the duvet off of wonwoo’s legs, ignoring his startled huff.

moving back, you place both arms on either side of wonwoo’s head and hook a leg over his waist. his hands come up to grip your sides. despite his sleepiness, he smiles up at you—a slow, lazy one, the kind he gives you when he’s happy and content. it brings a smile to your own face.

“i want ramen,” you say in response to his question. “i’m really hungry.”

“really?” 

“really.” you nod.

his thumb rubs circles on the part of your hip where your shirt is ridden up. “and you couldn’t make it yourself?”

“you make ramen better than i do.”

“it’s literally three steps,” wonwoo says, amused. “it’s packaged food. it tastes the same regardless of who makes it.”

“it tastes different,” you insist. “please?” 

he laughs, chest rising with the movement. “okay, okay. if you say so.”

“thank you.” you bend down and kiss the corner of his mouth. “you’re the best. i’m the luckiest person alive, i swear.”

“flattery gets you nowhere,” wonwoo says, but when you clamber off the bed, he follows you to the kitchen after grabbing his glasses.

and there’s something so tender about this, so fragile, a delicate sort of thing that you will cherish and protect with your life—something special about cooking and eating ramen at midnight, specifically with him. 

it tastes different.

author’s note — wrote this because i was craving instant noodles last night at 2 am. unfortunately i did not have a jeon wonwoo to cook them for me & i didn’t have any ramen left at home 😔

[terrestrialnoob]

Harley crawled into the apartment. It was organized, but it looked like the occupant didn't have a lot of time for cleaning. She walked softly through it, taking it in. There were photos of her target and what had to be her family, but no friends or romantic partners. Some had a pair of older adults, matching traits meant bio-parents. More of the photos were of the target and a younger boy - a little brother, the highest likelihood of becoming another target if things go bad.

Harley continued forward, following the light to where her target was. She stood in the doorway, looking in.

Dr. Jasmine Fenton, Arkham Asylum's newest psychologist, just got her degree and everything. She did what most newbies do, actually thinking she could get through to the Joker. Harley didn't want to say it was impossible, but everyone who tried ended up in a new job or dead. Harley would try and make sure it was the former and not the later.

Harley watched as the redhead read over a file as she ate from a takeout box. She didn't want to scare the girl, yet. The scaring her away from Joker came later. So, she had to wait for the perfect moment to-

"I know you're there." Jasmine didn't look up from her file, but held out the last box of Chinese food in Harley's direction. "There's plenty if you want some."

"Awe, you ruined the surprise." Harley walked out of the shadows of the hallway into the girl's home office. She snatched the offered box of food and took a few bites as she jumped to sit on the desk.

"I'm hard to sneak up on." Jasmine said, closing her file and finally looking at Harley. "So, Dr. Quinzel, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit this evening?"

"Oh, call me Harley!" She laughed, she wasn't called Dr. all that often any more. She tapped her chop sticks on the file Jasmine just closed. "I thought you'd like a consult on your new patient, Dr. Fenton. I've got a lot of experience with him."

"I prefer to go by Jazz." She said with a smile, "While I appreciate the offer, I'd like to see how far I can get on my own. And, sorry, but I'm pretty sure your license was revoked."

Harley nodded as she swallowed to get the noodles out of her mouth. "I get it! You're new, fresh outta school, gotta prove yourself. But Joker ain't the guy to do that with. He eats people like us for breakfast, and in all the years he's been in Arkham, no one's been able to get anywhere with him."

Jazz sighed, "I don't like to believe people are lost causes. There's always something we can do to help."

"You can't help everyone, especially when they don't want it. And it's not just a question if whether or not he can be saved or whatever." Harley set down the now empty box, Jazz pointed to another one that still had food in it, but Harley declined. "If you keep it up, he'll think you're worth his time to torment. There's no telling what he'll do when he inevitably gets himself out again."

"I'll be fine." Jazz said, but Harley had to cut her off before she said something stupid.

"It's not just you! You've got family out there he can target, your parents. Your Brother! Anyone you date will become a target! He'll do everything in his power to make your life miserable!"

Jazz chuckled. "If he wants to target my family, his funeral. My parents are - were supervillains. They've really only become less- well, hyper-focused on eradicating an entire race of being- in the past few years. And my brother - I'm pretty sure he's conditionally immortal. So that's nothing to worry about."

"If it's conditional, Joker will find a way around it." Harley said, but she had to admit, this might have been an unnecessary trip. "You sure y'ain't got nothing to worry about? What about you? How conditional is your mortality?"

Jazz smiled. Her mouth seemed too wide and with too many teeth. "Oh, I am nowhere near immortal. But..."

She stood up and the room was suddenly a black void. Toxic green eyes and mouths filled with glowing white teeth opened around them. "I doubt anyone could get close enough to test it."

The room was suddenly back to normal, but whatever that thing was was still there. Harley could see its eyes watching her with amusement from inside Jazz's oversized cardigan.

"Well, I guess this really was a wasted trip. You've clearly got it covered."

"Not entirely." Jazz said, her hand wend up to her neck to rub nervously, "Well, you see... I don't really have a lot of friends. People tend to get - uh, creeped out, you know? Or chased off by my parents or brother or whatever..."

"You wanna be friends?" Harley laughed so hard she almost fell over.

Jazz's face turned bright red and the shadow eyes looked way less amused. "Yeah, stupid question. You've clearly got your own things going on."

"No! No, no." Harley had to take several deep breaths before she could look Jazz in the face again. "I 100% wanna hang out with you!"

"Really?"

"Oh yeah." She took another deep breath, "I mean, I really should have made a support system before trying to take on the Joker back when I worked for Arkham. This" she pointed between them "can only end well."

Jazz's face turned brighter than the sun. "Oh my gosh! This is amazing! We should - I have Thursday's and weekends off - What - what kind of things should we-"

Oh man, Jazz was like an excited kid. She must have had a really lonely childhood... they can psychoanalyze each other later. "Come over for girl's night next week. I'll tell my gf and bff to expect an extra person... Does the-" she motioned to the cardigan creature "-go everywhere you go? Does it need food?"

"Oh, don't worry about Jet, they only eat who I tell them to."

Harley barked out more laughter. "You're going to fit right in!"

Now featuring a Part 2

[foldingfittedsheets]

I am a little creature largely made up of anxieties. There have been times in my life when it was worse. It’s currently significantly better. This story takes place at a time when it was pretty bad.

Food was a prison for me. I moved out early with very little idea of how to feed or care for myself. Every meal was a question mark. For three years I had Brendan doing most of the cooking but when things ended between us I moved in with some other friends. I suddenly had no way to feed myself again.

I was working at the sex shop and living with all my coworkers; a premise that would make sitcom writers weep. In that house, at the age of 24, I learned how to fry an egg. It was the only thing I knew how to do but by god, I mastered egg frying. I was so proud. I could now have one stress free meal a day of an egg on toast.

The problem was my roommates. Living with three other people is already tough but messes pile up alarmingly fast, especially in the kitchen. No one sees the whole mess as their responsibility but the one person who’s responsibility it absolutely wasn’t was mine, as I only ever cooked eggs. Glaciers moved quicker than the dishes got done, mountains of greasy unwashed dish ware were fixtures across the counters.

My friends occasionally cooked for me and each time I happily cleaned all the resulting dishes. This seemed fair.

But on my own I only used three implements for my egg. When I finished with my spatula, pan, and plate, I carefully washed them and set them to dry. Every time I came back to the kitchen there was nothing clean.

Crusted on ketchup, dried food, and unsavory residues plagued everything I needed to touch. So I ended up doing all the dishes twice, once to use my three implements and again once I was done.

I started to realize I’d come home, see the filthy pile of dishes, then go to bed without eating because I didn’t have the energy to wash it all. So I finally addressed my roommates about it. Please, I beseeched them, can these three things always be clean. I cannot function like this, and eating is already hard for me.

The answer returned: no. My request was deemed unreasonable and a counteroffer was made to turn off the small space heater I ran in my room in exchange for them magnanimously cleaning up after themselves. I declined, as my bones ached with cold everywhere except my room since no one else wanted the heat on. The impasse continued. I went to be hungry.

I noodled on it. I schemed. I plotted. And on my day off I went to a thrift shop and acquired a nice little pan and spatula. I squirreled them away into my closet. The plan was just to wash and dry it after meals and keep it in my room.

This is not how it went down. On day one of my pan coming home one of my roommates popped into my room to chat, glanced into my three quarters shut closet and immediately said, “What is that?”

I sighed and admitted my plan. All three roommates roundly condemned my plan as extremely passive aggressive. I tried once again to explain that I wasn’t eating, but my secret pan was now a source of contention, a precious resource held back from the collective.

Their discontent reached a fever pitch and I finally declared, “Fine! I will put my pan in the kitchen. On one condition. If I ever find this pan dirty, ever, I will scrape whatever is left on it into your bedding. I swear to god, if I ever come home to it being dirty there will be a reckoning.”

Terms were agreed.

The first month or two went okay. On the third month I awoke to eat breakfast and found my precious pan sullied. I grabbed it and marched upstairs. Betty was named as the culprit. I strode into Betty’s room and stood over her sleeping form like the vengeful ghost of dishes past.

“If you don’t get up and clean this right now I’m going to dump it on your bed.”

Betty groggily regarded me. “Seriously?”

“I have never been more serious.”

“It’s one time, can’t you just clean it yourself?”

“No. You promised.”

With much huffing and grousing Betty arose from bed and tromped downstairs, hastily cleaning my pan while I watched. “Happy?” She demanded.

I was. I made my egg, cheerfully cleaning the pan afterward, leaving it to dry.