Your gateway to endless inspiration
Brandon looked down at his spoon, just about to slurp the broth from his ramen when there was a thump. He looked up and whispered “What the fuck,” just under his breath. There was another thump but a bit more clearly now, it was coming from the door. With a loud sigh Brandon pushed his chair back, it scraped against the wooden floor and he looked down, seeing the scratches that he’d made in the past. He pushed the chair to the counter again and let his spoon clatter in his bowl. Walking towards the front door he checked his watch, it read 01:37. He clenched his jaw. Who the hell was knocking on his apartment door at this stupid time, his friends were in jail and his family were still out of town since he warned them not to come back yet. His hand reached forward and clasped around the handle, he forced it to open and it finally gave way with a long creak. Someone dropped in through the doorway, it took Brandon a minute to recognise them. They were covered in blood and seemed to have flour over them too. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his gun and pointed it at the man who was halfway through his door on the floor. “What the fuck are you doing here, Cardew?” He spat the mans last name out and stuck his leg between the door and the rest of his apartment. The man covered in blood looked up, his brown eyes looked tired. “Brandon...I didn’t know where else to go. There’s...someone else. Someone worse. Help me, please.”
You hear a knock at your door. When you open it, you find your archnemesis sprawled out just past the threshold, battered, bruised, and very clearly only hanging onto life by a thread. “Sorry. It’s just … I didn’t know where else to go” they mutter as you look down at them.
choose one and i’ll write it with characters you choose for me!! i’ll post my characters shortly (or if you want me to write something before i tell you my characters just tell me and i’ll choose ones i think would go well!!)
so cute tender hurt comfort is nice and all, but
enemies to lovers hurt comfort.
"i'm fine."
"you are NOT fine."
"you're running a 103 degree fever and you think you're just going to go to work like everything's just peachy? you're absolutely unbelievable."
"you dumbass! you got stabbed and you didn't think to tell me? you got it infected, you worthless piece of shit!"
"if you fucking die, i will kill you."
"you're eating this soup if i have to force it down your throat."
"you probably think i care about you now. well, i don't. i don't give a shit what happens to you, actually." (proceeds to do everything possible to take care of said person they don't care about)
"you are not sleeping on my couch. get on the bed, asshole."
"i'm not your mother. take care of yourself." (they did not, in fact, let the sick person take care of themself)
"have i ever told you that spending five hours in freezing rain without a coat is stupid? no? well, it was fucking stupid, [insert name here]."
"you know, there's this magical thing called common sense. you've probably never heard of it, but normal people have it, and that's why they're careful while handling knives so that they don't drop one on their foot."
"lie down. that's not a request, that's an order."
"you're going to drink this if it's the last thing you do."
"take your own temperature, asshole. no. no, you're doing it wrong. oh my gosh, just let me do it."
"are you feeling alright?" (clears throat) "i mean, uh, you better not be fucking sick, you idiot."