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summary - against tom's wishes, y/n makes it her mission to get the lofts crabby landlord to like her, inadvertently jeopardizing their living situation.
✖︎☸︎✖︎
You pushed open the front door, rolling your eyes at your negative flatmate. "Come on, Tom, just because someone has a gun doesn't mean they're a bad person. I'm telling you, he was just having a bad day, that's all." Tom followed you, his eyebrows creased in concern and confusion and frustration, all at the same time. "I still can not believe you out-crazied a man with a gun in a parking lot. He was literally going to kill us." You sighed, resting your back against the kitchen counter and looking at Harrison and Jacob, who were seated at the island eating a late breakfast. "Isn't Tom the most negative person you've ever met?" you asked them, shooting him a look as you did.
"Sorry I don't live in a world where I smile at people and they put down their guns!" Tom shot back.
"Obviously you do," you said, pointing at yourself. "Uh-duh."
"In Tom's defense, his life is kind of terrible," Jacob finally said.
"How many years has he been going at this acting thing? Six? Hasn't even been cast in a commercial," Harrison added on. "I'd be pretty bitter if that was me."
Tom gestured at his friends as if to say, I told you so. "Oh, come on, you guys," you sighed, walking towards the sink as you spoke. You started to pour the coffee grounds down the disposal, reaching for the switch on the wall while you said, "Someday Tom is gonna get his break and he's gonna blow everyone way. Watch, he'll be cast as the next Hawkeye or something." "Hawkeye's like, the lamest avenger," Jacob said around a mouthful of food. "First of all, I disagree, but I'll let it slide," you said quickly. "And second of all, I was gonna say Spider-Man, but there have already been like two in less than ten years, so that won't happ— AAAAAAH! NO!"
The garbage disposal roared to life, making that awful grinding, clanking noise it always did. You staggered backwards as it spat a blob of gunk towards you. "Okay," sighed Tom, reaching on top of a cabinet and pulling down a wooden pole wrapped in thick duct tape at one end. "Here we go."
He jammed the taped end into the garbage disposal, fighting against the machine. Harrison and Jacob continued to eat peacefully as Tom cursed and swore and staggered around the small space. You watched, trying not to admire the way his biceps and back muscles flexed when he jerked the pole. Finally the grinding came to a stop and he removed the pole, flicking off the disposal. He turned to face everyone else. "It's fixed." As he replaced the pole in its position, you put your hands on your hips, saying, "Okay, that's it. Tom, I'm calling the landlord." "NO!" shouted all three of the guys. You blinked, surprised.
