Oneshots 👹

Bottom's on Top (🌿)

*enemies to lovers* 

Nick Bottom was so upset because his wife Bea had packed up and left town a few nights before. And nobody was there to comfort him, since Nigel was too busy with his girlfriend and the theatre troupe had left as well since they'd only liked Nigel and not Nick. 

Every night he reread her note, which said, I'm going to start a new life with the baby. Good luck living ig. I don't love you anymore. Don't try looking for the money box. 

And every night, he found a new little detail. Like how the pen was a bit smudgy at the bottom of the first m. 

Or maybe that was just the fact that he had cried on it. 

"Nigel," he came to his brother one day, "we have no money and stop making out with Portia while I'm trying to talk to you." 

"What?" said Nigel from inside his girlfriend's face. 

"I hate you," Nick told him. 

He decided to go see a play to clear his head. And maybe get some inspiration for his own thing to write. Nigel was usually the producer of big draft ideas and ran them by Nick as part of a classic Ne/Ni dynamic, but nowadays the INFP always focused his energy on romance, which didn't exist for Nick, which made him mad. 

Anyway, the play was written by and starring... Shakespeare? 

"NO!" shouted Nick in the middle of the play. "I HATE SHAKESPEARE!" 

"I love you too." Shakespeare winked. 

"That doesn't work on me," Nick growled. 

The famous playwright approached him even though he was supposed to be performing. "Why do I have a hater in the audience?" 

"I—" Nick didn't get a chance to finish because Shakespeare was back on the stage singing, "HATERS BACK OFF!" 

Nick ran away, humiliated. He didn't stop running until he reached the park from the Sims FreePlay. It was late at night by now, but he didn't care. A single tear fell from his eye. 

A few hours went by of complete silence before the sad man heard a rustling noise behind him. He turned around and saw with his night vision that it was Shakespeare. 

"Go away," said Nick. "I don't need you telling me I'm worse than you." I already know, he thought, but he tried to appear confident. 

Shakespeare just gestured toward the nearby tables. "Let's play chess." 

"O-okay," Nick said tentatively. He sat down on one side and Shakespeare sat on the other, and they played night chess. 

Nick won, which made him feel very good about his sad life. But Shakespeare was mad about this. "Let's have a staring contest," he suggested angrily, because he wanted to win. 

So they sat at the chess table, staring into each other's eyes. Nick found that he was having trouble holding the man's gaze, but it wasn't because he hated him. It was actually quite the opposite. 

Shakesdaddy noticed. "Are you blushing?" 

"No!" His opponent flipped the chess table. 

He stepped closer. "Prove ot." 

"Hahaha *it," Nick started laughing. "U need autocorrect old man." 

"I can literally see you blushing," said Shakesdaddy. 

"I'm not!" But Nick didn't back away. 

"Maybe you're better than me," he said to the "old man" who was literally 31 and far more successful than him. "But maybe that's okay." 

"Damn right it is." 

But Nick realized what he was doing, and he ran all the way home in the rain. Nigel was there. "Nick?!" 

"Nigel? Where's your literal other half?!" 

"Portia?" his brother asked, standing idly 🧍‍♂️. "She has a curfew. She's at home. Where were you?" 

"I was... playing chess with an old man at the park." 

"Oh. Ok cool. Come inside." 

So Nick did, but he found out his bed had been sold. So after Nigel fell asleep, he ran back out to buy a new one. Shakesdaddy was out on the porch. "Hello Nick," he said. 

"What are you doing here?!" 

"I wanted to say hi and why did you run away." 

"I was scared, Shakesdaddy," Nick admitted. "I don't hate you as much as I thought I did." 

"I know. Ur clearly a simp." 

Nick began to cry again, but he didn't let Shakesdaddy see. The last thing he needed was this smug man making fun of him for losing his confidence. 

"I still think im better than you," Nick proclaimed. 

"No you don't." 

Nick kissed him, against the door so Nigel wouldn't see through the windows. He knew he couldn't find any way to make money, but at least Shakeszaddy was a distraction. 

"I knew it," said Shakesdaddy. 

"No, you don't know anything. I'm unstable because my wife left me and I'm not thinking straight." 

"Yeah that's kinda the point." The writer laughed. 

Nick just punched him and he fell back, breaking the door and landing on the floor. 

"You just want to kiss me again," Shakesdaddy taunted him from the Rustic Plank floorboards. 

"No," said Nick. But he helped Shakesdaddy up and then kissed him again. 

Nigel was awaken by the thud of Shakesdaddy landing on the floor, and he rushed in to see this. He was just there 🧍‍♂️ quiet for a few minutes, and neither of the two noticed him, until he spoke the words, "I should call her." 

Nick pulled away, startled. He watched as his brother went back to bed without another sound and pulled out his iPhone to call his girlfriend. 

Nick turned to Shakesdaddy. "Leave," he said quietly. 

"Fine," said Shakesdaddy, and he stepped out through the Shakesdaddy-shaped hole in the door. 

Nick just went back to his room where he didn't have a bed, giving up.