#I NEED ANGST EDITS STAT

[vqnillaclouds]

crying crying crying crying crying crying crying crying crying crying crying crying crying crying

[im-still-watching-anime]

i know the little goofy spin off series are a Thing™️ for a lot of manga and animes but god bsd wan is actually so necessary to offset canon being Like That i am in so much pain

[peterparkersnose]

I Fall In Love Too Fast

Part 2 to ‘Jealousy, Jealousy’

pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

word count: 6.2k (I fed you guys well!)

warnings: implied age gap, carrot penis reference if you squint, Y/N is a greenhouse girlie, mutual pining, use of y/n, fluff, alcohol consumption, mentions of sex, mentions of pregnancy, borderline bullying, stalking, attempting break in, violence, angst, description of blood (sort of), consensual cuddling, joel can’t tell his veggies apart (edited sort of)

a/n shaking rn i need to see cocaine bear asap

summary Y/N and Joel have an unlikely meeting in Jackson’s greenhouse. 

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read time: 22 mins 43 seconds

The low hums of the generator filled your ears. The greenhouse could be very peaceful at times. Something you couldn’t explain drew you to the plants. Ever since you were a child, your friends from the old QZ you grew up in would always question why you would rather read the old book about botany you found than play tag.

When you were presented with the opportunity of working in the greenhouse in Jackson, you were more than happy to accept the position. All the vegetation calmed you for some reason. It was a sense of control in this crazy world. It was almost like it was normal inside that tented space.

After a few years of living in Jackson, Maria decided to appoint you as head greenhouse keeper. You had proved your success throughout the years, the vegetation grew by over 35% (according to Maria, stats were never your thing).

It had been a few days since you had seen Joel. It was a quick, longing goodbye early in the morning. He wanted to make sure you were home before Bradley would have to wake up. The thought of your… ex? You weren’t even quite sure yet. But the thought of him made you want to vomit. And the thought of Joel made you feel… well, safe.

The music coming from your walkman began to skip. The old CD player was old in the time cordyceps started, but nevertheless it trudged on through the pandemic. CD’s were rare, but they were often traded in the community. Currently, Frank Sinatra’s greatest hits skipped through your headphones. Ellie’s CD, presumably from Joel. You didn’t take Ellie for a big Sinatra fan. The thought of having something of his with you made the music just a little bit sweeter.

The song “I Fall In Love Too Easily” began to play clearly through the headphones. You had the headphone jack placed in just the right angle. Ignoring everything else in the world, you swayed to the music slowly as you were washing off the carrots in the sink. As the song continued, you began to hum along with the tune. The song was new to you; the lyrics weren’t mastered in your brain yet.

***

Joel trudged down the muddy streets of Jackson. Tommy and Maria were having a get together that night, and he stupidly agreed to help. Maria requested him to go to the greenhouse to pick up some produce. After Maria’s pushing and adamancy, Joel finally agreed to go. He was suspicious on why he had to go and why Maria just couldn’t go herself, but he decided to leave the possible argument alone and just do what he was told. He wanted to stay back and help Tommy with the roast anyways. That was his specialty. Back in Texas, Joel would make the best damn barbecue in the neighborhood.

Hell, he had never even had to go to the greenhouse before. He was perfectly content on living off of canned beans and coffee. And it was Sunday; the one day everyone had off. The greenhouse was sure to be abandoned, meaning he would have to forage for the produce himself. Did he know the difference between a zucchini and a cucumber? Hell no. Not even when life wasn’t shit he couldn’t figure that out.

Maria smirked as herself and Tommy watched Joel slump down the street. Joel was reading off the slip of paper Maria had written down directions on to the greenhouse. “The only person crazy enough to be workin’ on a Sunday is Y/N, if anyone is there.” Tommy said. “Why do you think I sent him?”

They both gave each other conniving looks.

“You saw the way he acted at the Tipsy Bison earlier this week,” Maria said, sucking her teeth and turning around to tend to her stew. “Don’t you want him to be happy?” She called back to Tommy. He shook his head at his wife’s antics and returned to the roast.

***

Joel let out a scoff as he realized he knew exactly where he was going. The big, white tent that sat on the edge of Jackson. Embarrassingly, he made his way towards the big landmark he mistakenly used to take for a medical ward. To his surprise, the lights were on.

Joel gave the door a few knocks before he opened it, not to freak out the possible worker who could have been behind the door. He quietly slipped in. He brushed some of the mud off his boots as he opened the second door.

A rush of heat hit his face. His eyes scoured the large facility in look for a person. And right then is why he realized Maria was so damn adamant about him going to the greenhouse. 

Your hair was tied up like it was the night you stayed at his house. He recognized the flannel you had on as his own. Your jeans and boots were a classic look that almost every woman had around town. What he didn’t expect was the headphones and walkman clipped to your jeans.

Soft humms came from you. Joel was feeling conflicted; his ego couldn’t allow him to feel this way about you. But the way you do gracefully moved your hips and cleaned those carrots drove him nuts. The thought of you in his kitchen, the two of you cooking together brought warmth to the bitter man’s heart.

Bringing himself back to reality, he looked at the list Maria had scratched down for him. Maybe you could help him find a… butternut squash? He didn’t know there was more than one type of squash.

He stood in the entrance and waited for you to notice him; but you never did. You were so invested in that little sink that you never bothered to look his way. Joel took a deep breath, realizing he was going to have to get your attention.

The fearless man began to tremble with anxiety. He cautiously walked over stray hoses and tried to keep his footsteps on the louder side, so you could maybe hear he was coming.

You yelped as he tapped your shoulder. The carrot you were holding in your hand fell into the sink.

“I’m sorry I-”

“Oh thank god, it’s just you.” you said out of breathe, holding your hand to your chest. “Scared the shit out of me,”

The music played through the headphones as you wrapped the cord loosely around your neck. It played long enough for Joel to recognize the song.

“Sinatra?” he asked, your music taste peaking his interest. You clipped the walkman to your belt, it now rested against the black shirt you had his flannel loosely on top of. “Ellie loaned it to me,” you said, grabbing a towel and drying your hands.

“Must be mine then,” Joel tittered, nervously playing with the piece of paper in his grip. Your eyebrows raised in question, ignoring the confirmation of your previous theory. “I loaned it to her a few months back, thought she must’ve lost it but… I guess not.”

“Do you want it back? Here, you can…” you nervously said, struggling to get the walkman out of your belt loop. “Keep it, really. You seem to like it more than me.” he said, again. “Oh, I have this-” you said, beginning to strip the oversized flannel off your body. “Here,” you said, balling up the flannel and reaching it out to Joel. “Nah, it looks better on you than me. Trust me,” he said, awkwardly refusing the gift of his own belongings.

He could imagine drunk you saying “He said it looked better on me,” as you did a few nights ago in his bed when he called you ‘pretty girl’.

Why was he giving his things to you?

You wrapped the flannel around your waist. “What can I help you with?”

He outstretched the paper to you.

“Maria’s cookin’?” you asked, walking past Joel with the confidence that you knew where you were going. Obediently, he followed you.

“Some stew or something, she says it’s good but…” Joel said, sucking in air sharply. “Not so good?” you smirked, reaching a planter and looking up at him. He shook his head no but then said “It’s delicious,” in a forced, sarcastic tone.

You pulled out the first vegetable and handed it to Joel. Moving along, you moved to the next planter.

“Is that what your doin’ tonight?” you asked him, going through the pea pods trying to pick out the best ones. “Yup.”

He stood for a second in silence as he felt like something was missing. “Would you like to come?” he asked, praying Tommy wouldn’t kill him and Maria’s stew would taste better than it did last time.

Your heart sank because you already had plans. “I’m so sorry,” you began. Joel’s face turned bright red.

He was right. He was too old for all of this. You were just interested in being friends, maybe not even friends. He was so embarrassed, he was ready to go back in his house and never come out again.

“I promised Ellie and Dina I would come over tonight. Have a little sleepover, if you could call it that. Definitely need a rain check though, I would love to some other time.”

That damn kid stole his date.

“Oh, yeah. No worries.” he said, the rejection ruining his confidence.

“I mean it though, rain check.” you said, piling more veggies into his grasp. That built back some of his shattered rizz.

You made your way to the front of the greenhouse, getting ready for the last produce. Potatoes.

You chuckled as you looked behind you. Joel’s presence seemed to fall back. He was struggling to keep all the produce in his hands.

“Would you like a bag?” you asked, slowly moving towards the woven bags hanging on the wall. “Would be nice,” he awkwardly chuckled, grabbing a falling bunch of broccoli from his hands.

“Here,” you said, opening the bag in front of him as he layed everything in. “Shit,” he mumbled as a stray carrot stalk fell. You both bent down to retrieve it.

His hand accidentally layed on yours for a brief second. It should have been a minuscule moment, but time seemed to freeze. You looked up into his gaze as you both stood up, still both holding the carrot. You never wanted this moment to end.

“Potatoes?” Joel asked. Trapped in his gaze, you answered “Huh?”

“Don’t I need a few potatoes?”

You blinked a few times, bringing yourself back into reality. “Uh, yeah. Follow me.” you said, trying to calm your heavy breathing. You could almost feel your heartbeat pumping out of your chest.

The green tops of the potatoes reached out of the grass. Inspecting each top, you slowly and carefully made your decision. “You sure know what your doin’,” Joel commented as you looked up at him from the leaves. “Botany is my passion,”

“By the way your looking at those potato stems, I believe you.” “Maria’s stew has to be good this time. I can tell this one is a good one because of how thick the leaves are. The bugs haven’t gotten to it yet because it’s in the middle, you see. They are full grown, these are the ones planted around the spring. There full grown and…”

You looked up at Joel and found him with a sly smile. “I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

“I like ramblin’. Could listen to it all day.”

He wanted to say he could listen to you all day; Even if all you talked about was potatoes.

“At least someone enjoys my rambling.”

Memories of Bradley point blank telling you to shut up because you were explaining how herbs could be used in medicine once plagued your mind. Then, the memory of his face bloodied scurrying on the bar floor replaced those. And you felt that warm feeling again, safe with Joel in the greenhouse.

Selecting the perfect one from the middle row, you began to pull. And pull some more. “God dammit,” you muttered to yourself. Giving up, you moved some of the dirt around the root.

“Can you help?” you asked kindly, as pulling on it one more time was unsuccessful. Joel placed the bag of produce down and moved to a different angle.

You expected them to pull out easily when he went for them, but he was struggling too. “What you do to ‘em?” he asked, wiping his hands off on his jeans. “Locked in or something,”

You angrily decided to try pulling again.

“Let me,” he said. To your surprise, his hands came to your shoulders to ease the suspense of touch. Then, he moved forward bringing you into his embrace. His hands rested below yours. Your shoulders matched up almost perfectly with his broad chest.

“Ready?” he asked, his voice sending chills down your spine. You could tell how warm he was, even with the heat of the greenhouse making the both of you sweat. His arms flexed on yours as he began to pull the potatoes up along with your grip. He pushed back and you followed his grip. Within a few seconds, the potatoes freed from the dirt and sent the two of you flying backwards.

You two landed back first on the dirt ground. The feeling of his arms were still around you, he was still holding you on the ground. He had let go of the potatoes and they were thrown down the isle.

The two of you burst out in laughter, staring at the ceiling of the greenhouse. You genuinely didn’t want to leave this moment; and neither did he.

“I totally loosened it for you.” you bragged, sitting up and looking down at him. One hand rested under his head, the other layed comfortably on his stomach. “Sure ya did.”

He took your hand as you helped him up. His knees cracked, and he prayed that you didn’t hear it. The two of you made your way to the washing station at the other end of the greenhouse.

“Potato,” you said in a stern tone. He placed one in your hand. “Brush,” you requested. He handed you the brush. You turned on the water and scrubbed the dirt off the potatoes. “Towel,”

“Yes ma’am.”

The two of you laughed as he played along into your antics. He was standing so close that his hips seemed to connect with yours. “Is that the last one?” he asked, drying off the fifth potato. “Unfortunately,” you sighed.

“Your welcome back any time to wrestle some potatoes again, if you’d like.” you said, following him to grab his original bag of produce. “Why don’t we take on the corn next week?” he asked, not wanting to leave. He just knew Maria would be bombarding him with questions about what took so long.

“It’s a date!” you said, mostly serious but in a joking manner.

Dina froze at the door. Ellie was making homemade pizza for that night and sent Dina to get some tomatoes. She was frozen, peeping through the door she watched. Dina had just gotten a front row viewing of you and Joel struggling with the potatoes, your awkward impromptu cuddle on the ground, and the romantic potato washing.

As Dina saw the two of you finishing your… encounter, she made her way quickly to the side of the building.

Ellie is going to love this.

***

“Ellie, your never going to believe-”

“Where are my tomatoes?” she asked, disappointedly. Dina burst into the kitchen of their small house frantically. “Forget the tomatoes, El. You’ll never guess what I just saw.”

“What, another stray cat? For the last time, no stray cats.”

“Joel and Y/N.” she said astonished. She took a place on one of the barstools next to the counter.

“What about them?”

“No- Ellie. Joel and Y/N, they were cuddling in the greenhouse.”

Ellie looked up from her dough she was making. “Dina, did you breathe in some outhouse gas?”

“No! I promise you. I was going to get the tomatoes, but they were just laying there. Then they got up and washed potatoes. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone wash vegetables so… sensually before.”

“I think your bullshitting me. Who cuddles in a greenhouse?” Ellie questioned, turning around and looking through the pantry. “Old stuff is going to have to do,” she sighed, pulling the old can of marinara sauce out from the back of the pantry.

“I wonder…” Dina began. “You remember how I told you about Bradley,”

“You remember how much I want Tommy to banish him?” Ellie reminded Dina. “Joel knocked that dude out!” Dina exclaimed.

“Yeah, but that’s just Joel being Joel. I’m sure he would do it for any one of us.”

“He walked her home!” Dina complained. “Your going to tell me there’s nothing going on there?”

“I think we should wait and ask Y/N. Not make assumptions,” Ellie sighed, giving Dina the side eye.

“They’d be cute, that’s all I’m saying.”

***

The sun was at the end of setting, the sky was a deep purple. You noticed Joel’s boot marks in the mud and how big they were compared to your feet. “Damn,” you whispered to yourself, stepping in one of his prints. Another pair of prints seemed to circle around the greenhouse. They were similar in size to your feet and had a different shape then the bottom of your shoes.

Following the odd marks, they moved to the side of the greenhouse. And then made a straight line towards where you were going: Ellie and Dina’s house.

“Oh no,” you sighed, following either Ellie or Dina’s footprints. You prayed one of them didn’t see you with Joel.

You tried to imagine Ellie’s reaction to it. What would there to be mad about? You were just friends with Joel. Even though you had admitted to yourself he was just your passing patrol crush about a year ago, you were taking things slowly with this new found interest.

And he was older than you, there was that. Adults can make adult decisions, you reminded yourself. You and Joel were both adults that had experienced a lot in life, even though yours was a bit shorter than his.

Would Ellie be mad? Her… Joel and her best friend (besides Dina of course). You shoved the idea to the back of your mind as you knocked on their door.

Dinner had an odd vibe to it. Dina had already had a few too many glasses of wine, and you were avoiding the alcohol at all costs. The other night was enough for this week.

“Your not drinking?” Ellie asked, chewing down on her pizza. “Nah,” you said, briefly commenting.

“What, you pregnant?” Dina laughed, filling her wine glass up again. You almost choked on your pizza. “God Dina, no.” you chuckled. “I haven’t fucked Brad in… four months? I think I would know by now.”

“Gross!” Ellie cringed. “I’m trying to eat!”

“Sorry, sorry.” you jokefully apologized. “Anything… new? With you know, Bradley?” Dina asked. Something was up with her.

“Not since Joel kicked him on his ass,” you said.

Dina gave Ellie a strange look. “Yeah, I remember. Did he get you home alright that night?” Dina asked. You swallowed a bit of your pizza. “Mhm,”

You hated lying to your friends. Without the truth, you felt miserable. You wanted to tell them all about Joel and how you have been secretly borderline obsessed with him since that night, but word getting back to Joel might scare him off. And you didn’t want Ellie to freak out.

“Then how come I didn’t see your porch light on when I left with Maria?”

You froze in your seat.

“I’m just fucking with you,” Dina teased, pushing her hand into your arm. “You like him though, don’t you.”

Lying is one thing you were never good at. “He’s a nice man.”

“You like him though, don’t you?”

The lack of response and the quickening of your breathe didn’t help your case. “Dina,” Ellie said, stepping in to Dina’s drunken antics.

“He took you to his house, didn’t he?”

“I…”

The whole town of Jackson seemed more quiet than usual. Ellie looked at your face and could see the panic. Her eyebrows rose as her stare widened, watching you squirm in your seat at Dina’s question.

“Holy fuck! Did you fuck Joel?” Ellie asked, now realizing the reality in Dina’s games. She was right; Dina totally saw you two at the greenhouse.

“No! No.” you defended yourself. That was the truth at least. “I… I didn’t want Bradley coming around and…”

“Oh my god,” Ellie said, standing up from the table. “We’re just friends! He’s a nice man Ellie, you know that.”

“Then why did I see you two cuddling in the greenhouse today?” Dina muttered from behind her wine glass.

You sighed and buried your head in your hands. So the shoe prints belonged to Dina.

“Y/N.” Ellie said sternly, standing at her place at the table and crossing her arms. “Tell me the truth.”

You grabbed Dina’s wine glass and took a large gulp.

“I- I like him, okay? I think he’s handsome, and kind and considerate. Everything Bradley isn’t and everything I deserve.” you said angrily, getting out of your seat and slamming it back in the table.

“Dina, your a dick when your drunk.” you yelled, grabbing your coat and heading for the door as Dina giggled at her spot.

“Y/N,” Ellie said, grabbing your hand. She closed her eyes and took a long breathe. “Your being for real?” Ellie asked, her look turned more sincere.

“As real as a bite,” you sighed.

***

The three of you, now in pajamas, sat in Ellie and Dina’s bed. Dina was braiding your hair as Ellie layed flat on her back and stared at the ceiling.

“Y/N Miller,” Ellie said out of the blue. Your head whipped over to where she was sitting, pulling your braid Dina was working on. “Jesus, El. A little too soon for that? I doubt it even,” you giggled. “In this world?” Dina asked. “I can lend you my white dress. With the embroidered flowers?” Dina suggested.

The memory of her embroidering those last summer resurfaced. “It is awful pretty,”

“And I can do your hair, hold on.” Dina said, undoing the braid she had been working on.

You felt her hands begin to work. “I just don’t know if he likes me back…” you sighed.

“Y/N. I know Joel. He wouldn’t just lay on the dirt floor with anybody.” Ellie assured you. “He barely speaks to anyone in Jackson as it is,”

“Would he even say anything? If he liked me?”

“Jesus, Y/N. This isn’t high school. Just tell him.” Ellie teased, sitting up in bed. “I’ll talk to him. Work some of my magic-”

“You better not!” you seethed, giving Ellie a glare. “Don’t embarrass me!”

“Ta da!” Dina announced, finishing putting a pin in your hair. You jumped off the bed and moved to the mirror.

It was in a low bun with a few stray hairs framing your face. It was so effortless and so elegant. “Dina,” you gasped, carefully cupping the bun with your hand. “I can make it ten times better, but just a thought.”

“I love it,” you gasped. “If I ever get married, you two are in charge of the wedding.”

***

Joel ate awkwardly at the table with Maria and Tommy in silence. The only noise in the whole house was the scratching of silverware.

“How was the patrol? Yesterday.” Maria asked both Tommy and Joel. “Alright,” they both said in unison. They definitely were brothers, men of very few words.

“Any news on the power plant improvement?” Tommy asked Maria. “I had some guys there today. So nice, working on their Sunday off.” she added.

“You know who works on Sundays?”

Joel’s fork stopped moving.

“I hear Y/N is running the greenhouse real nice.” Tommy said, already knowing the answer to Maria’s question.

“How was she, Joel?”

Joel looked up at Maria with a side eye. “Fine.”

“They’ve got blueberries now! Damn blueberries, I haven’t had any since before this shit. They were good,” Tommy mused, reminiscing on the delicious fruit.

“She’s a good chef too,” Maria commented. “Made some amazing salad dressing for the winter party a few weeks ago. Did you try her cookies too?”

“I remember,” Tommy added. “She’s gonna make a real nice wife some day.”

Joel’s fist hit the table a little too hard as he set down his glass. Both Tommy and Maria looked at him shocked.

“You alright?” Tommy asked.

“Can we change the subject?” Joel asked bitterly. “Why so angry? What’d she ever do to you?” Tommy pushed. “Goddamit Tommy,” he yelled, shoving his chair in.

“Thanks for the wonderful meal, Maria.” he hissed, lying and abruptly leaving their house. The picture frame on the wall shook a bit as he slammed the door.

“He’s down bad.” Tommy laughed. Maria sighed, her hands rubbing her temples. “Why do the two of you always seem to ruin a good night?”

“Hey, I barely did anything.” Tommy resisted with his hands in a defensive pose. “You know he likes her. The sheer mention of her makes him leave.” Maria commented. “God, I hope those two idiots find each other again. I don’t know how much more I can take of this.” Tommy sighed, chewing away at his roast.

It was dark outside now. Joel could hear the whisps of the wind blow in the trees. Creepy if you’d ask him, but Joel wasn’t afraid of much anymore. Almost all the houses were dark; with the exception of a few porch lights.

He turned down the main street and looked at all the lights still on. Maria’s guys must have fixed the power plant, pls business signs were flooding the street with their light. He glanced up at Ellie and Dina’s apartment; it was over one of the textile shops in the downtown department. The lights were out besides the one outside the entrance.

He took a double take when he saw someone standing out there.

Moving closer, he recognized the crouched down figure trying to pick their lock.

Bradley.

He reached the bottom of the old metal staircase before making himself known. He cleared his throat loudly.

“What in the hell are you doing?”

Bradley recoiled in fear, dropping the pocketknife on the metal landing. “It’s not what it looks like- I swear it Mr. Miller.”

“Then what does it look like?” he asked, slowly walking up each step. “I-I… Y/N invited me over. You know, lighten up the time with them. T-they had left over food she said.”

Bradley’s cowardly tone made Joel smile. He cracked a few of his fingers, intimidating Bradley farther and farther.

Joel knew Ellie. There was no way she would ever have leftovers; let alone invite anyone besides Dina to share them.

“You got about five seconds to tell me why-”

Joel was older and tougher, but Bradley was sly. He jumped up, grabbing the knife he dropped and swiped at Joel’s face with it.

Joel quickly ducked as fast as he could and kneed him in the gut. Bradley let out a loud oomf as Joel grabbed both of his hands and held them behind his back. “Nice try,” he whispered in his ear.

Now behind Bradley, Joel gave him a rough push down the metal stairs and took great pleasure in watching him flail down.

Unfortunately, the front door flung open and he was met with a shot gun to his face. He sighed, waiting for Ellie to realize who it was.

She cautiously lowered the gun as she recognized Joel’s face in the dim light.

“I taught you too well,” Joel sighed, moving the barrel of the gun out of his range.

“What’s wrong?” Dina asked, peeking out from behind the wall. You weren’t far behind her, hopping on your tippy toes to see what the matter was.

“You fucking fuck!” Bradley yelled from the ground. He was rolling around, clutching his leg. “You broke my leg, you asshole!”

Ellie looked at Joel in confusion. “Caught your peepin’ Tom on my way home.”

Emerging from behind Dina, you recognized those two voices from anywhere.

“Joel?”

His eyes met yours.

“Y/N, I dunno if you wanna look.” Joel advised. Ellie stepped out of the way as you poked your head out the door. A small gasp came when you saw your ex laying on the concrete. “Bradley, what the fuck!” you yelled.

“Please, Y/N. Take me back, I promise to treat you better than that old, violent grandpa!” He yelled, still in a ball on the ground. Joel let out a small breath of air from his nose. ‘Grandpa is really the best you got?’ he thought to himself.

“Your fucking pathetic.” you called back down to him. “How did he know I was even here?” you said, turning around to ask Ellie. She shrugged. Your hands began to tremble. “Hey, hey.” Ellie said, recognizing the panic arising in you.

She gestured for Joel to come in. She flicked a lamp on as you sat on the couch. “I can go get Tommy and a few other guys, we can deal with him.” Joel suggested.

Ellie looked at you for confirmation. Your eyes darted from her to Joel and back to her. She knew what you needed in that time. You needed him.

“Let me and Dina go get Tommy. I doubt Brad is going anywhere anytime soon.”

Joel opened his mouth to resist, but then saw you shaking on the couch. He knew Ellie was more than capable of fucking this guy up, and he rather stay with you. Even if the fucking up of Bradley sounded oh, so appealing.

“Alright.” he nodded, watching the two girls pull on their coats.

“May I?” he asked, outstretching his hand referencing to the couch spot next to you. You nodded your head. He sat next to you, not touching you. Joel was unsure of how to approach this.

“Joel?” you asked, turning to look at him. Your breathing was shaky and your eyes were glossy. “Yes?”

Without his consent, you moved closer to him on the couch. Your thighs were touching. The need for him to hold you right then was strong.

Joel let out a sigh of relief as he took your invitation of affection. His arm wrapped around your shoulder. You found comfort in his body, cuddling in and moving your arms closer to your body as he held you.

“Everything is alright,” he re assured you, taking his thumb and started slowly running circles into your shoulder.

“I’m sorry about what he said.” you sighed. “What- the grandpa comment? Pfft,” Joel chuckled. Your body moved against his as he laughed. “Doesn’t even phase me.”

“Well, he’s wrong.” you said. Joel looked down at you. “About what?”

“There is no way he could treat me better than you.”

A soft smile rose to Joel’s mouth. He wished he could hold you like this every night. The sweet smell of the rationed out shampoo filled his senses as he took another deep breath.

“Your damn right,” Joel whispered, leaning down and placing a soft kiss to the top of your head. Your arm stretched along his torso, holding him tightly as the sounds of Bradley’s wails came from below.

***

At least an hour had passed. You had dozed off, leaving Joel alone in Ellie’s apartment. You were still connected to Joel at the hip, but your grip had loosened on his waist.

He looked down at you adoringly. He thought of almost every scenario as he waited for Ellie and Dina to return.

He had to ask you out. He wasn’t quite sure how, he figured Tommy could maybe give him some pointers. Or maybe Ellie, she seems to know what women like. And then dating you. He wanted to take you out to the fields outside of Jackson. A nice picnic maybe, you two could maybe bring some food from the greenhouse. He remembered how when he was a child he used to eat cucumber sandwiches (there better than they sound, trust me).

You could teach him the difference between a zucchini and a cucumber. You could be that balance in his life; something he had been searching for since he was a teenager.

He noticed your hair was in a falling out low messy bun. He imagined a veil coming out from it, and a luxurious white gown on you. Sure, he was getting ahead of himself. Little did he know you were discussing the topic of marriage just hours prior.

The fantasies about a lavish, non infected world wedding were diminished as Ellie and Dina made their way through the door.

“Shh,” Joel said, silencing their conversation.

“Aww,” Dina said, still a little tipsy from the night before.

“You should take her home. Bradley won’t be bothering her anymore.” Ellie said sternly. Joel noticed the bloodied knuckles on Ellie’s hand. Dina placed her baseball bat next to it’s resting place at the door.

“Hey,” Joel whispered, rubbing your shoulder. You groaned, holding him tighter. “Good morning,” you muttered. “Still night time, doll. Let’s get you home.”

You slowly woke up in Joel’s embrace. The scent of him sent you back to the first night you spent in his bed. “You wanna go home?” he asked you again. “No,” you protested.

“I’m sober,”

Joel looked at you in confusion. “Remember? ‘Talk to me when your sober’, or something like that?”

The memory clicked in Joel’s mind.

“I want to stay with you.”

Joel couldn’t resist. He helped you up from the couch. He grabbed your jacket from the coat rack and helped you put your arms through your sleeves.

“Is that a yes?” you asked him as he silently closed Ellie and Dina’s door. He sighed. “Sure,”

Walking hand and hand down the abandoned street, you began to humm the Frank Sinatra song from earlier that day. Joel listened to your sweet tune the whole way home.

As you reached his house, you kept the tune going again and again. Joel led you to his bedroom with his hand in yours. His alarm clock read a little after three.

“Get comfy,” he said, throwing his jacket in the corner. You dropped your jacket, leaving it by the bedroom door with your boots. All that was left was your jeans and your black tank top.

“You don’t care if I slip into something more comfortable, do you?” he asked. “Not at all.”

Joel stared at you awkwardly. “You want me to go to the bathroom or…”

“It’s your house. I don’t mind,” you said, boldly sliding off your jeans and kicking them into your pile. Your gray underwear was left on as you sat on the edge of his bed.

“Alright,” he chuckled, adoring your boldness. His pants came off and hit the ground with a thud. His heavy belt buckle made the noise. He opened a drawer and took out a pair of red flannel pajama pants.

“Look! They match the flannel,” you exclaimed.

He turned around, completely enamored by you. Your excitement, your pep, and everything else about you was just what he was lacking in his life. For the first time in years, Joel felt himself feel genuinely happy. It was scary for him, but he was ready to let go.

“Can I just say…” he said, walking up to you sitting on his bed. His right hand slowly cupped your left cheek. His thumb slowly, softly ran across your cheek. “You really do look better in the flannel in than me.”

He slowly bent down, giving you enough time to resist. To his surprise, you began to rise off the bed and connected your lips with his. Rising off the bed, you continued the kiss as you both took a few steps. His hand reached around your waist, finding a comfy spot on the bottom of your back. Your hands had moved to his hair, slowly playing with the locks in your fingers.

“I’ve been waiting for you to do that,” you smiled, still in his embrace.

Joel’s body melted into yours. “I… I really…” he struggled to say. “‘I really’ you too,” you said, expressing to him that it was okay to be afraid. But you were there, and was ready for anything at any pace. His soft eyes seemed relieved at the confirmation of the now mutual feelings.

“Let’s get some sleep, hm?” you asked, sitting back down on the bed and breaking from his embrace.

His body held yours. Joel’s arms protectively kept you in his embrace. The four legs intertwined and kept each other warm underneath the blanket. You pushed into his figure, making yourself feel more secure than ever.

As he held you in bed, the tune began to sing again in your head. In a before sleep epiphany, you remembered the lyrics.

“But I still fall in love too easy, I fall in love too fast,” you whispered. Joel’s head burrowed in the nape of your neck. A tiny kiss was placed there in confirmation of what he had just heard.

Happiness consumed the both of you.

tag list: @dani5216 @uwiuwi @alohastyles-x @samanthacookieone @maddieinnit0 @alexxavicry @scoliobean @avengersfan25 @rosie0611 @vivalasv3gan

[sunlightgalaxy]

crash & burn

emily prentiss x surgical resident!fem!reader

what happens when your one night stand ends up on your operating table?

warnings: angst, surgery, blood, smut, mention of drugs/drug use, alcohol & drinking, mentions of (fake) major character death

a/n: repost from my previous blog about 3 years ago but also slightly edited. based off of my grey’s anatomy knowledge so there are definitely inaccuracies also one of my fav things I ever wrote

(gif is mine)

**

“incoming trauma! y/l/n, you’re on it with me,” your attending yelled. nodding at her as you made your way to the door, you grabbed a gown and threw it on. a rush of excitement coursed through you, with this being your first real trauma you were working. working the ER was always hit or miss, with everything that had swept through the emergency room doors during your previous rotations either ended up cleared from needing surgery or were “all hands on deck” situations, which usually ended up with every resident fighting for at least three surgeries. and you never seemed to be picked for one.

you had been itching to get into an OR for weeks, as being on the ICU rotation stopped that from happening. technically, you were doing simple procedures on patients when they needed to be done, but you weren’t able to actually operate. and that’s what you loved to do most.

silently wishing that this trauma would need surgery, you jogged out of the e.r. and met your attending at the ambulance bay. “what do we have?” you asked, watching as the paramedic opened the ambulance doors.

“agent emily prentiss, fbi, 40 years old; penetrating stab wound to the lower abdomen, weapon still lodged in place, already coded once in the ambulance,” the paramedic rattled off.

“is that a chair leg?” you asked, mouth open. something about this patient was off, you couldn’t figure it out.

“table leg, actually,” the paramedic said, shaking his head.

“that’s good, it’s the only thing keeping her alive right now,” the attending said, scanning the agent’s body. “what are her stats?”

you didn’t hear a word either of them said, eyes focused on the unconscious woman in front of you. she looked so familiar. and you also recognized her name. “emily,” you muttered, eyes widening when everything came back to you.

~

“can i buy you a drink?” a dark-haired woman asked, sitting down next to you with a smile. “sorry, i know that’s a bit forward,” she said softly. “i’m emily. and you’re absolutely gorgeous.”

“oh, thank you,” you blushed. “you’re pretty hot yourself. not to be too forward or anything,” you smirked. “i’m y/n.”

“it’s nice to meet you.”

her laugh was like a drug, you heard it once and were instantly drawn closer. if you weren’t careful, you’d get addicted. “thank you,” she beamed, brushing her hand over yours. “so, about that drink?”

“i’d love one,” you murmured. “thank you.” emily squeezed your hand, calling over the bartender and ordering two glasses of red wine. “how’d you know red was my favorite?” you asked curiously, taking a sip.

“lucky guess,” emily shrugged, changing the subject. “so, what do you do for work?”

“oh, i’m a surgical resident at the hospital downtown,” you smiled. “what about you?”

“i, uh, i work for the fbi,” she murmured, smiling sheepishly. “nothing too crazy, though.”

“that’s actually pretty cool,” you laughed. “what about the fbi brought you to boston?”

“i’m just here on business,” she spoke softly. “trying to find something for my team.”

“have you been here before?”

“once, a long time ago,” she sighed, looking down for barely a second. “but, that’s in the past. and i’m all about the present.”

you giggled, sipping your wine. the night carried on in a similar fashion, more and more drinks purchased as the conversation traveled. from favorite books to dream vacations to childhood fears, you two talked about nearly everything.

and as the night grew longer, emily ended up in your apartment. shirts ditched in the entryway, emily leaving sloppy kisses along your jawline as she carried you to the bedroom.

she placed you onto the bed, hands trailing down your sides. a soft moan escaped your lips, eliciting a laugh from hers. “you like that, don’t you?” she teased, hands moving up your thighs. one, two fingers inside of you, hitting that perfect spot with each thrust. her tongue swiping your entrance before her lips encased your clit, your vision nearly blacking out. pulling her hair, emily’s moans sent vibrations straight to your core and pleasure through your veins.

it wasn’t long before your hips bucked into her face, her tongue tasting every bit of you as you came.

and then you were on your knees for her, worshipping her body like it was the last time you would ever see it. which, it technically was. but that was the last thing on your mind as your tongue swiped her clit. she groaned softly, squeezing your breasts as if to tell you to keep going. and you did, until her cum was dripping down your face.

emily leaned down, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you into her arms. “thank you for this,” she whispered, smiling softly. “i really needed it.”

“of course,” you murmured. “and you can stay the night, since it’s so late.”

“thank you,” she sighed, rolling over. “goodnight, y/n.”

“goodnight, emily.”

emily said she would stay. and not even an hour later, she was running out of your house like she had just seen a ghost. she had said something about a work emergency, then proceeded to give you a quick kiss as a thank you for the night.

and as your apartment door closed, you assumed that was it. it was a one night stand, you would never see her again. and you were fine with that.

~

“something wrong, y/l/n?”

“oh, no, everything’s fine,” you muttered, shaking your head.

“alright then, let’s get her to the OR.”

***

“on my count, we’re going to pull out the wood,” dr. canning said, looking at you. “ready?”

“ready,” you responded, leaning over and grabbing the top of the leg.

“one, two, three.”

you and canning pulled it out as quickly as you could, leading you to hand it to a scrub nurse. “bag this and get it to the police upstairs,” you ordered, shifting your attention to emily.

“scalpel,” canning spoke, taking the blade handed to her and extending the cut that the wood had previously made in order to get better access.

there was so much blood pooling in her abdomen, it honestly scared you a bit. not because the extent of her injuries were so severe - after all, you had seen much worse. it was because you knew the person on the operating table, and even if it had been just one night, you hadn’t stopped thinking about her all day. but, it’s not like you knew her, so it didn’t matter. right now, she was your patient. and as far as you were concerned, that’s all she would continue to be.

“where is all this blood coming from?” canning yelled angrily. it seemed that no matter how much suction there was, more blood would keep pouring out. “hang another unit, she’s losing blood too quickly!”

“wait, i think i found the source,” you muttered, lightly pressing a finger to her pancreas, eyes widening as the blood stopped momentarily. “there’s a small cut on her pancreas!” you yelled.

“nice catch, y/l/n,” canning said, handing you sutures. “go ahead and finish up.”

you gasped softly, slightly taken aback by the order. nevertheless, you smiled under your mask and took the sutures. delicately, you were able to carefully fix her remaining injuries.

together, you and canning worked to make sure there was nothing you two were missing. closing her up quickly and carefully, you both headed into the scrub room to clean up.

when canning asked you to go tell her team about the surgery, you agreed rather eagerly. there was no reason for you to do that, it shouldn’t even matter whether you met them or not - there was no way you’d ever see them again.

“we’re under strict rules not to let anyone see her except for agents hotchner and jareau,” your attending explained to you, scrubbing her hands under the water. “understand?”

“yes ma’am,” you replied. “what should i tell them?”

“ask for agent jareau, and tell her that agent prentiss is stable and ready for transport to bethesda when they’re ready.”

nodding quickly, you exited the operating room and made your way to the waiting area. upon arriving, you stood out of view for a moment, taking in the people in the room.

a brightly dressed woman - who’s outfit did not match the tone of the room - leaning against a taller man. a skinny guy sat next to another blonde woman, who looked too uncomfortable - even for a hospital. an older man sat away from everyone else, fiddling with a rosary and murmuring what could only be a prayer under his breath. and then there were two, one taller man and one shorter woman, whispering to each other in the corner of the room.

this was her team, her family.

it felt odd that you were about to tell them how you saved her life, despite them not even knowing you two had hooked up barely 24 hours ago.

“excuse me, i’m looking for agent jareau?” you asked shyly, stepping into the room.

the woman standing stepped away from her teaming, giving them all a small smile. “why don’t we speak in private?” agent jareau suggested, nodding when you agreed.

you both stepped into the hallway, away from her team’s prying eyes. “agent jareau-”

“is she alive?” she asked, her voice breaking slightly.

“yes,” you murmured, the blonde woman sighing with relief. “agent prentiss is stable for now, and she’s ready for transport when your team is.”

“thank you,” agent jareau whispered, tears in her eyes. “thank you for saving her.”

“it’s no problem,” you smiled, watching as the woman walked off.

making your way back to emily’s room, you passed the waiting room, expecting to see smiles and joyous remarks. instead, you found the team in tears. the strangest part was what agent jareau told them.

“she never made it off the table.”

those words followed you all the way back to emily’s room, your mind spinning with what that could mean. it’s not even like it was your business, you two slept together once and nobody even knew. it didn’t matter, so you pushed it to the back of your mind.

you didn’t dare stay in her room for longer than you had to. as soon as you finished checking emily’s post-op vitals and making sure everything was in order, you left, shutting the door behind you.

instead of walking away - like you knew you should - you just stood in front of her room. not watching her, but just staring.

“you know, that agent has quite an interesting life” canning said softly, coming up next to you. “agent hotchner had asked me how long until she was cleared to leave the country.”

“did he say why?” you asked, looking between canning and emily.

“something about a paid vacation, but i don’t believe him,” she laughed. “apparently they’re profilers, but i didn’t need to be trained in behavioral analysis to know he was lying.”

“agent jareau told her team that she died,” you said quietly, staring at emily’s unconscious figure.

“damn,” canning sighed, looking ahead as well. “well, i know i wouldn’t want to be caught up in all of the trauma that’s bound to leave. i feel bad for her.”

“yeah,” you sighed. “me too.”

phones beeping after a few minutes, you and canning looked down, frowning. “there’s another trauma, y/l/n,” she said, looking at you. “let’s go.”

sighing, you took one last look at emily. she was still as beautiful as that night in your apartment, maybe even more.

turning around a moment later, you followed after canning

maybe it was a good thing emily had fled in a hurry after all.

[gyuswhore]

How to Win Hearts for Dummies (the answer is lattes and banana bread)

Idol!mingyu x makeup-artist!reader

genre: fluff, angst, one sided pining

warnings: slow burn, swearing, shitty bosses, some descriptions of anxiety and breakdowns, one sided pining, reader has issues opening up (lmk if there's anything else)

13.4k words (im sorry)

plot: This apprenticeship was taking a toll on your self control in the worst possible way. Walking in 8 months ago, a resignation from your corporate job and a dream in your pocket, you made an oath to stay focused on the goal at hand and to enjoy what you did for a living for once; makeup. Except, your still stuck as an apprentice with a mentor that has no inclination for your growth.

And you’re a little bit in love with your client.

masterlist

(A/N): repost bc Tumblr wouldn’t show it in the tags!!! Thank you for clicking on this clonking my pants as I hit post ! I started working on this at the beginning of exam season and I’m posting it the night before my last exam 🥲 what a full circle moment. Also pls excuse any inconsistencies or grammatical errors, my beta reader, unlike me, actually cares ab her grades and is in the beginning of exam season and therefore will not be able to read through this monstrosity for a while lmao. Enjoy hehe

Edit: I’ve just realised how many mistakes and grammatical errors I’ve made throughout the fic, serves me right for proofreading at 3 AM after a stats exam. I’ll try to fix them all asap!!! 

The camera goes off again with a distinct click. And again. And again. And again.

The camera had gone off innumerable times since Mingyu walked out in another themed ensemble, and you were there, watching, through all of it.

You watched as he kept switching positions, rotating his body and his head. Morphing his features into more variations of dazed and serious than you thought could ever exist.

Standing there, at the portable table behind the main setup, attempting to clean a lip brush that would be needed soon when the inevitable call for-

“Makeup over here! We’re taking 5”

You note your sluggish pace as you snap out of your daze and scrubbing harder with the removal cloth. Snapping your head down, hoping nobody noticed your incessant heart eyes, you realize you were in trouble now.

‘Y/n, you’ve been cleaning that brush since I left 10 minutes ago!’ The senior makeup artist snapped.

You finish up the brush in hand and quickly hand her what she needs, not before rummaging for the tiny pot of lip product you absent-mindedly packed away.

‘Sorry, really sorry’ you choke out before she leaves in her badly concealed irritated expression. You see her make a beeline for a waiting Mingyu, who adorably squats for the woman so she has better access.

This apprenticeship was taking a toll on your self control in the worst possible way. Walking in 8 months ago, a resignation from your corporate job and a dream in your pocket, you made an oath to stay focused on the goal at hand and to enjoy what you did for a living for once; makeup. Except, your still stuck as an apprentice with a mentor that has no inclination for your growth.

And you’re a little bit in love with your client.

It's not that you were overage (your mother begs to differ), but considering you were on your second big girl job and still no sign of a potential lover, the prospect was starting to weigh on your head. The first rattling experience was when one of your closest friends announced her engagement, your thoughts still stuck in a 19 year old you considered she was too young. She was not, in fact, 19, or too young, but a perfectly acceptable age to consider marriage with someone she loved, you had soon realized. You were never one for the dating scene, but you were always one to don your Dr. Love labcoat whenever an emotionally bruised friend would come seeking help. You were good at advice, but awfully bad at applying it yourself.

Coming into this job, surrounded by a plethora of beautiful people, your heart would be of stone if it weren’t to waver.

The gong of unattainability had struck the second you laid eyes on Mingyu, laughing at something Hoshi had shown him on the phone. There he was, hair and makeup-less, looking like he had just rolled out of bed (which he had), and beautiful as ever. Beginning this new chapter with a bang, only problem was that it turned into an 8 month shoot out. Having encountered a number of gorgeous people, you’d learned to appreciate their genetic lottery pull and move on. But never had a single look left you as breathless and unbeared as that one, fateful look at Mingyu. One of the team members was busy assuring you not to worry too much about the pandemonium in the dressing room, that everyone would handle it and you were only asked to observe and help with smaller things as instructed; for now. You weren’t listening too hard though.

You were now adjusted to the chaos that comeback season and 13 men plus staff in a microscopic dressing room brought about. But you will never forget how in the midst of your first rain of hell, Mingyu had asked you to pass his phone.

‘Please?’ He had said, and you slammed your hand with a force of a woman infatuated on the table behind you and (literally) breathed out the first thing you had ever said to him.

‘Here’

He smiled and gave you a quick ‘thanks’.

There was no coming back after he flashed you those irresistible canines, and to this day, you wonder what nation you saved in a previous life to be able to have him know your name, hear it roll off his tongue in his pretty voice as he asks you to fix his smudged eyeliner.

You sigh defeatedly before your mentor slash irritated makeup artist shoves her load back in your hands and instructs you to come inside to pack up. It’s become routine for you now, as you begin to pack up the bigger palettes and tools, handing a ready-to-go-home Junhui the pack of makeup wipes he asked for, zipping up bags and closing tubs of outfits. It's an organized chaos but one everybody has grown to work around.

Mingyu is done before you, as he removes his jewelry and begins to shrug off his jacket. You scramble to find the clothes he came in and his coat, pointedly ignoring the familiar scent of wood. He thanks you and shucks off the remainder of his clothing, he might be used to stripping in front of professional staff, but you look away regardless for your own sanity.

Helping the last stylists hang the final jacket, you grab your bag and get ready to leave in your own car. Mingyu has left, not before throwing a “you did well, thank you!” over his shoulder at the remaining people in the room and leaving for the honking car outside.

***

Your mashing bananas in a bowl at 12 AM when you start thinking. Impulsive baking sessions had become a norm since you started working with Seventeen, needing to keep yourself occupied to stop spiraling. Mingyu was a recurring topic (surprise surprise), but one that quickly faded when you begin to think about what the future holds for you. You start mashing the banana harder. You consider the idea that you can’t complain, being in a position some of the most well seasoned pros had difficulty reaching. Being a single young woman and being allowed so close to some of the most unattainable men was seen as near impossible. You’d like to think it was your skill that got you here but can never seem to fully rule out a processing error.

It’s hard, being stuck in the same place. Your apprenticeship should have ended 2 months ago, but even if it had, you’d still be doing the same thing. The senior artist trusts no-one but a select few to work on the boys for photoshoots, events, music videos. People like you are left to sanitize sponges and clean the fallout.

You crack an egg on the counter and it splits open entirely, falling on the floor, yolk and all. Your inability to grow stays within the idea that you can’t really do your artistry like you want.

And how you never learn to crack your eggs on the bowl.

***

Showing up on the Going Seventeen set, you rush to the dressing room way earlier than you should. Being completely honest, you’re really only rushing because you want to maneuvere yourself to do Mingyu’s makeup before somebody else snags him. This was one of the very few engagements where you were occasionally allowed to take charge on makeup. Not that it was required for the show much at all; intensity and occasion wise. Your rare (possible) moment to (maybe) come into Mingyu’s organic notice was an opportunity never to be dropped by you.

You help setting up everything on the counters as the boys begin to (loudly) file in the rooms. You see Mingyu walk in and move to ask him to sit down once he’s done discarding his coat. He was first in line and you ‘happened’ to be the first one ready to begin working.

‘Is the eye makeup heavy? I just got a sty removed and I don’t know if I should be putting anything on at all.’ He asks as he sits down and you ready your damp sponge.

‘Not really, just smoothing things out. It should be fine.’ you say as you begin to press the compact on his cheek.

Your not really sure why, because you’ve never been able to muster anything above brief replies when in contact with him, but something in you pushes you to keep talking.

‘I’m surprised they even asked for us, they rarely ever do’ you continue, heart pounding so hard you’re afraid he might hear it.

He breathes out a laugh ‘Yeah. They even started advertising the show on youtube and subway stations and stuff, I didn’t know until I saw someone talk about it online’

You smile at his response ‘Well, all of you work so hard, it's about time they pull this to a high scale production’

‘It's never really work if your having fun, we try to be ourselves on here’ He replies, still smiling slightly.

You’re damn near close to collapsing on the floor at this point. This is the longest conversation you’ve ever had with him. You opt to smile in response as you start to concentrate on his eyebrows. The rest of his face is done far too soon as you zone out and do what you do best.

‘All done’ you announce as you pull away from his lips, trying not to have yoour gaze linger.

“Y/n! Can you start on Vernon if you're done?’, another artist calls from behind.

‘Yeah, he can come up!’ you reply as Mingyu (regretfully) walks towards hair.

Just because you sew your mouth shut with Mingyu doesn’t mean it applies for the rest of them, you’re quite friendly with all of them and Vernon does well to remind you as he sits down and quips a ‘hey bestieee’ in an elongated greeting.

You audibly laugh ‘That’s another word I’ll be hearing for the next month’

‘Regretfully so’ He feigns sympathy.

‘Be quiet and look up’ you say with a fond smile before you get started on him.

***

You sit on the floor in front of your television, trail mix on the coffee table as the movie plays as background noise for your thoughts - again.

There’s a smile on your face, but you dont notice as you think about the small talk you made with Mingyu today, wondering if it could become a regular occurrence if you learned to keep your heart and mind in check.  

You were never one to stand up and take effort to do what was right for you, which is why you were talked into choosing Business Administration by your friend in highschool, who you never speak to now because she decided to ditch you for another group who were more inclined to shuttle themselves to liver failure by partying every last weekend in your entire college career. You were talked into applying to corporate jobs by your counsellors as you started looking for make-up courses, needing to abandon your dream for the second time when you landed a decent entry level desk job. It took years before you decided to choose yourself for once and made the big leap after multiple courses you had took on the side. Life was starting to look bright after getting hired here, but you’re not sure if you overrode a high or if you went back to your old zipped mouth state after you settled in. Never sure if you expected too much or if things really were as stagnant as they felt.

***

Overmanifestation can be a thing. You're not really sure how it works but you’re reaping what you’ve sowed right about now.

You’re currently standing in an offside corridor in a hotel lobby, clad in a pretty white floral dress, and a nervous, fidgety Mingyu standing in front of you.

'I know I'm asking you to do something difficult and I know it seems pointless because I'm not doing anything wrong either that you have to lie about it'

This was supposed to be a staycation with your friends for you to relax and get your mind off things. Your ticket to relaxation has become a nightmare.

'And I understand I'm being super unreasonable but I'm really trying to keep it on the down-low as we get to know each other'

You were waiting with your friends on the couches positively stuffing your faces with the complimentary chocolate bowl placed on the coffee table as a couple other friends checked you guys into your rooms. You were laughing and talking with your group, carefree and ready to have a week of well deserved rest.

That was the plan anyway. Until you see someone across the lobby, also in line at check in. He had an unmistakable toothy smile,and was hand in hand with a concealed brunette.

Your smile abruptly falls in disbelief as you feel your world halt around you.

The same hands come up to brush the hair out of the woman's face to place a kiss on her temple, smiling wide.

The nauseating feeling of ice going down your spine is becoming more and more apparent. You attempt to swallow the lump in your throat but it's like trying to swallow a brick. You lick your lips and attempt to look away but your eyes keep feeding on the picture you painted yourself in your worst nightmares. Realizing you're on the brink of possible hyperventilation, your friend drops her head and asks you if you're okay. You look up at her, not knowing what to say as you realize that nodding furiously will convince her.

Mingyu has a girlfriend.

Of course he would. What were you thinking? This man is one of the most eligible bachelors in the country, why on earth would he be single? You’re unhinged, you decide, for thinking you may have a chance, when the woman turns around and you see her in full. She’s gorgeous.

A part of you still wants to believe that you're officially past the point of sanity and that you've begun to see Mingyu in every tall man. The universe, however, is cruel. He pushes his head up and in your general direction, and locks eyes with you in unmistakable recognition.

He stops smiling.

So here you are listening to Mingyu asking you to keep this a secret from the company, to forget the woman waiting for him in the lobby.

You can only nod in slight motions as he goes on his rant to justify his oath to secrecy, managing a tight lipped smile as you miraculously find your voice, hoarse as it may be.

'Don't worry about it, I understand' - ouch - 'it's none of my business anyway. I'll keep my lips sealed, I promise'

'Thank you, thank you, thank you I appreciate it so much, you don't even know. I'll repay you soon I promise'

'No, please, it's not-'

'No, Y/n I will. You're being really good to me right now and I'm so grateful. I'm sorry for putting you through this while you're off from work and with friends. It's worth to me that your listening and understanding'

You're tired. You want nothing but for him to stop talking. So you smile again and shake your head.

'I'm sure your friends are waiting, I won't keep you. I'll see you soon though!'

And with that he leaves. Back to the lobby where you see him take the woman by hand once again. You watch again as they walk to the elevators, stepping in and disappearing when the doors close. You watch the floor number rise.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5…

You walk back to your laughing friends before you can see where they got off.

***

Retiring to your shared hotel room with Chaeyoung, you fall back first into the crisp sheets and mattress.

'Why're you so depressed dude, did Mingyu say something to you?' She asks, a slight line forming between her brows.

'I'm fine, I've been up since 5 today it's just fatigue hitting me right now' you reassure, like always. 'I might not go to dinner with you guys, might end up with my face in the soup at some point'

Chaeyoung hums. ‘Take the night off so you can gear up for the rest of the week. I'm letting you off for now but I expect full attendance for eveything else we do', finishing with a mocking stern look.

'Yes ma'am' you feign salute from the bed, mimicking her stern tone.

You've known Chaeyoung for quite a while now, meeting her in your last year of uni. Trusting her as you do, you were never fully able to fess up about your feelings for Mingyu. Fear of judgment wasn't the problem, but more so the strange feeling of shame that overcomes you when you think about talking about it with other people. It's quite beyond you, why you act this way. You loved your friends and you knew they would support you with everything, they'd proved it when you'd made one of the most difficult decisions of your life while leaving your job. But the idea of having the audacity to love someone who could never do the same seemed like a feat of embarrassment.

Who are you, y/n? Who are you to have foolish dreams of a girl in love? With someone clearly fit for all things greater than you?

Maybe this was a good thing, you thought, the weird feeling in your stomach returning. Maybe this was the universe telling you to give up and move on, a kind of rejection that keeps your dignity. This was nothing but a reality check, a sign from whatever wants best for you, to bring your attention back to what brought you to Mingyu in the first place.

***

You didn’t see Mingyu for the rest of the trip, which you were grateful for not knowing how you’d react if you had to see him so soon after, that.

Back massaged and head clearer than it had been for weeks, you feel more in control of your feelings and thoughts regarding your life. You hope the conversation with Mingyu was the last stressful thing you’d encounter for a while.

It’s almost comeback season, you realise as you see the new concept photos while scrolling on your couch at home. This meant insanely early mornings for weeks on end, but you had to push through for your own sake. You’d come out of multiple comebacks needing a brace for a month but you wouldn’t trade it for the world. Never realising the true meaning of learning through experience, you were enlightened as you entered this new, very hands on field. The concept looked interesting, hoping the scraps of makeup you’d be allowed to do would be fun for you.

That ended up being true when you were, for the first time, asked to do Hoshi’s full makeup for their first comeback broadcast.

Your stumped silence was short lived as you hastily oblige and get the chair ready for him. You’d looked at the demo sheets and face charts too much for someone who wasn’t actually going to be asked to do much, but you see it pay off as you finish his eyes and get started on the rest of his face. It was easy for you to zone out as Soonyoung had passed out not even 5 minutes in, having someone hold his face as you worked.

You felt your chest swell with an indesipherable feeling as you watched him get up with your mastery on his face; pride, was it? You were getting emotional for no reason. Your attention, however, is moved sharply when you hear someone tell Mingyu it was his turn, finding him plopped on your chair staring straight into nothingness as he’d just been rudely awoken from his nap. He doesn’t realise it’s you for a solid minute as he tried to remember his own name.

‘Oh, hello’ he says, sort of confused. ‘Sorry, just give me minute’, he mumbles as he rubs his eyes.

He stretches back onto his seat signalling he’s ready for you to get started. You trying not to feel too much in your stomach as you begin.

You’re powdering his forehead when he says “I know I already said this but I really appreciate what you’re doing”

You know he’s talking about the conversation at the hotel, you were hoping you could avoid it.

“I told you not to worry about it, honest.” You reply, and somehow manage to choke out “It makes me happy that you’re happy”

You can see him trying to fight a smile, “Thank you for saying that”.

You wanted to stab someone. But you opt for gently brushing a base colour across his eyes.

“Do any of us know her, by any chance?” You ask cautiously.

“I dont think so. We met through mutual friends at a Christmas dinner, we didn’t start talking till she had to bring me a bunch of papers I’d left at my mom’s that day.” his face depicts someone reminiscing a fond memory.

It was cute, how it seemed like fate was trying to bring them together. It would've been cuter if you weren’t in a one sided pining with one of the two lovers.

“Well, I hope it works out for the both of you”

No you don’t.

“I hope so too”

You don’t hope that at all.

You felt guilty, feeling all of this. Hated that this was your first response to him wanting to be happy. Never would you have imagined stooping this low, hoping his happiness doesn’t work out for your sake. You’d like to owe it this being your first real infatuation, but you can’t help but wonder if this was really what you thought.

You decided to focus on the good news for today, that you’re finally allowed to do your actual job. You can only hope this wasn’t a temporary advancement, allowing time to tell.

Things remained the same the following day, much to your absolute elation. You were done doing 4 people’s makeup and was just winding down to take a break, quite satisfied with yourself. You observed as the rest of the boys got their hair done and run around, half in their outfits. You stifle a snort as you watch Jeonghan hide Minghao’s socks in his pockets as the boy tried to find them to put his shoes on, the former continuing to sip on his coffee seemingly unaware.

“Y/n, have you seen my socks? The green ones with the leaves on it?” Hao inevitable asks you.

You’re forced to feign confusion when Jeonghan pokes his head behind him signalling you to keep up the charade. He continues to look and you’re just about to have mercy on the poor boy before a to-go cup of coffee is shoved in front of your face.

You look up at the person and it’s Mingyu extending his arm at you expectantly.

“Oh, I didn’t order anything” you start, thinking you’re clearing up a confusion.

“I know you didn’t, got one for you anyway.”

There’s a record screech in your brain as you absorb his words.

“Think of it as me trying to repay the favour”

Oh. I see.

You’re a little embarrassed thinking he’d get one for you in that way, not when he had someone waiting on him. You accept the cup and mumble a thank you as he unexpectedly plants himself on the couch next to you.

“I saw you drinking lattes a lot of the times, so I just got you that. Hope that’s okay”.

Your silent for a moment before replying “Yes!” a little bit too loudly, eyes widening a little realisng your lack of volume control.

He knows your coffee order.

“Yes,” you say again in a normal tone and a slight laugh to cover up your inability to read the room, “They’re my favourite actually”

Kim Mingyu knows you like latte’s. This wasn’t good for your delusional brain.

Your conversation is cut short when the boys are called for roll call before they can prepare for the actual stage. You watch him get up and leave to file into the overstuffed elevators, not before he throws you the most adorable wave you’ve ever seen. You can’t hold back your smile as you wave back and look down at the drink he got you before taking a sip.

***

As it turns out, you did makeup for the rest of their comeback season, and Mingyu, without fail, got you an iced latte every single day before leaving to go on stage.

You tried to get him to stop, but he was rooted in his position and you didn’t have it in you to say no to his pleading eyes. It was a re-charge for you, when you’d seen him break into a happy smile, prominent canines that you’d grown to adore. He’d done more than enough to ‘repay’ you for swearing to secrecy, and you felt like you too, should  should repay him the balance.

So here you were, making banana bread in your kitchen again, careful to remember to crack your eggs on the rim of your mixing bowl instead of slamming them on the counter. You’re stirring the flour in when a classified devious thought occurs to you.

These past two weeks were pivotal for both you and Mingyu, daily coffee’s meant daily conversations, which meant getting to know one another more. You’d exchanged phone numbers in the midst of all of this, to which ensued the agenda of staying up till midnight talking to each other about the meaning of life.

Setting down the whisk, you pick up your phone and sent the text before you chickened out.

[You]: I have a surprise for you.

[You]: You wanna come over? It’s better enjoyed fresh lol

[Mingyu]: Ma’am? 👁👁

[Mingyu]: That sounds a whole lot like a booty call

[You]: *attachment*

[Mingyu]: IS THAT CAKE??

[Mingyu]: omw 😮‍💨

You send the location and set your phone down, a jittery feeling going through your entire body. There’s a spring in your step as you slide the loaf into the oven and set a timer. You turn around your kitchen island and register the pigsty that is your apartment. The girls were over the night before and you had done nothing to enlighten the aftermath, pillows strewn across the entire living room and snack wrappers in places you’re not sure how they landed.

By the time you’re done and spritzed the place with some of your nicer perfumes, your taking the loaf out of the oven and on a rack to cool.

Ever the punctual man, you hear the doorbell ring just as your taking your oven mitts off.

Hoping you’ve done enough to your apartment to save yourself from embarrassment, you collect yourself and open the door for him through your ringcam. He’s barely through when your rushing towards your doorway.

“Hi!”

“Hey,” he grunts as he tries to slip off his shoes.

“‘aight, where’s my cake?” he demands once he’s done giving you a quick hug.

You roll your eyes and usher him to the kitchen, “First of all, appreciate how excited you are to see me, and second, its banana bread not cake, sorry to burst your bubble”

He responds to your grumbling with an “Oh come on, you can't put freshly baked goods on the agenda and expect me to pay particular attention to anything else”.

He has his trademarked grin and cheesy stare out on display like its nobody’s business, you want to slap it off of him in the most loving way possible, but you settle with a tiny “shut up”.

“I brought warm coffee this time, thought it’d go better” He sets the to-go carrier on the kitchen counter, following you to where you were attempting to slice the still hot banana bread on a tray.

“Oh, that was a good idea” you say.

“Where’re your plates and forks?” he asks, pulling out the drawers and cabinets you signal to.

It all felt too domestic for your weak heart to handle. Not to say it didn’t warm you to the core how comfortable he felt in your space, you did, more than you’d care to admit. But he needed to tone it down before you required an organ transplant.

You were seated on the floor, butts parked on floor cushions, backs against the couch. The coffee table held all of your goods while you both argued on which movie to watch.

“I can’t believe you haven’t watched any of the Harry Potter movies! No, we’re watching philosopher’s stone, I don’t care!” You shout in disbelief, already typing it into the search bar on the TV.

“Philly-philo- bro I can’t even pronounce it why would I watch that?!” He yells back, snatching the remote from you.

You’re both a giggling, screaming mess on the floor as you keep trying to steal the remote from each other, not stopping until one of you bumps into the table and you almost spill hot coffee all over yourselves.

You decide to call a truce and pick another movie entirely.

Just as you’re pressing play, Mingyu takes a bite of the still (surprisingly) warm banana bread and you watch as his eyes roll to the back of his head.

“This is so good” He says, his faced furrowed as he goes in for another bite. “Did you lace this with something, why is this so good?”

You’re biting back a snarky remark but you let it rip anyway; “It’s cuz these pretty hands made it”

You splay your hands out in front of your face, like your showing him your rings, fingers wiggling and a cheeky smile on your face.

He looks unimpressed as he scoffs. He swallows before saying: “At least you didn’t call the secret ingredient love or something”

“Excuse you, I’m pretty sure I heard you say that in some Gose episode” You remark.

He turns to you, all smug: “So your saying you watch Gose? Like, regularly?”

You immediately turn away from his taunting smirk, “Sometimes, if it shows up on my home page”

You take a sip of your latte before he asks you another sweat producing question.

“Oh, but you pay attention to me the most don’t you? Don’t you?”

He’s poking fun at you, you know that. But a paranoid part of you can’t help but think he’s onto you and your feelings.

So you say something maybe a little bit below the belt.

“You sure have a knack for seeking validation from the world when you have a partner already giving that to you”

The words tumble out of your mouth before you know it. In your defence, you're doing this for a greater cause, but it's still a relief when you see him comically gasp, hand to his diaphragm.

“Just because your alone in life, doesn’t mean you need to be salty about other people receiving actual love” He spits back.

Your sputtering trying to think of a response. Deserved.

He grabs a slice of the bread and shoves into your mouth to shut you up once and for all. You’re left chewing the mouthful and staring at him in shock.

He giggles and takes a sip of coffee, satisfied with himself. When he sets it down he opens his mouth to speak. Closes it again, like he re-evaluating, and finally decides to say something. He’s serious now.

“Ji Eun and I, decided it wasn’t gonna work out between us”.

Oh.

“Oh.”

He blows a raspberry and lets out a meek laugh.

“Yeah, oh. It’s whatever, it wasn’t meant to work out. Better sooner than later.”

You’re trying to find the words to reply or comfort him.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” You ask him, being careful to not lace your voice with pity, but more neutral and open. “You don’t have to, obviously, but it might be better to talk about what’s bothering you”

He pauses for a moment before starting.

“She wasn’t sitting very well with the idea that she had to share me. Like at all. She wouldn’t say it but she’d get mildly infuriated when I’d blow the fans a kiss or something, or interacted with the staff too much. I was getting home quite late certain days during comeback season and I’d find her outside the dorm at like 11 PM. It was embarrassing when all of the other members would see her there, obviously upset and basically yelling at me for, for - for literally just doing my job.I guess all the smaller things just started piling and she couldn’t take it. I tried so hard to make sure she felt wanted and secure in the relationship but nothing felt like it was ever enough. She was evasive or confrontational all at the wrong times and it came to a point- its a horrible thought to have in a relationship - but I was terrified she’d do something rash and I’d wake up to my face on articles for some reason - again”

You recollected the past couple years when Mingyu was thrown around in the media for a new accusation seemingly everyday. You weren’t involved with anything regarding the industry back then, but you’d heard enough news to be aware of what was happening.

Your heart swelled with sadness as you heard him talk, he sounded like he was trying- trying hard to be good enough. All for a person who seemed to have their priorities set somewhere else.

“She was amazing; kind and happy and confident. She treated my parents with respect, she was best friends with my sister. I know we only lasted like 3 months but at some point I really considered that she could be the one. But then the problems started and I realized she was only becoming an added factor to stress and anxiety for me more than anything else.

“I liked her because she was so family oriented, and I thought that was what would fit me because I’m like that too. But, I guess I’m just a different kind of oriented? I don’t know. I have a job that’s both interpersonal and unpredictable. There’s days where I don’t wanna get up and do work but I still love it nonetheless. I guess she just expected me to have a predictable, stable 9 to 5. Home in time for dinner, not requiring interaction with too many people; basically everything I can’t be.”

He’s silent for a moment.

You start talking after a couple beats.

“I really hope you aren’t taking this like it’s your fault. She made a choice to put up with your work, knowing how it would be for the both you. You tried your best but she made you feel like your best wasn’t good enough. I dunno about you, but that sounds like a really problematic conclusion. If she truly cared for you and what you love, she would never have been this unsupportive or not understanding”.

He’s listening to you, his expression is blank but you can tell he’s absorbing your words.

“I’d like to think I had realized that. But being completely honest, I’m not really sure when my thoughts go back to me thinking I’m the problem all the time.”

He manages a smile, a wide one, as he looks up to make eye contact with you; “But I know it’ll take me some time to really start believing that it’s not entirely my fault. We just weren’t compatible, and that’s fine. We left on good terms, and I’m happy about that.”

You smile with him as he finishes, but your a little confused when he starts sliding closer and down the cushions.

He sets his head on your shoulder.

You may have shortcircuited right then and there.

“Is this okay?” he asks you quietly, attention finally diverted to the half played movie.

You realise he asked you a question and you have to answer.

“Yeah, this is fine” You breathe out, somehow, by the graces of God himself.

No, you weren’t fine at all. You felt like the universe had flipped a faulty switch, mixed up the scripts, lost the plot, something. But as you get used to the weight of Mingyu’s head on your shoulder, you pray it won’t come back to haunt you in another chapter.

***

Your routine became inverted in the sense that, what you once had to plan out so intricately, is unfolding with no effort from you at all.

You find that Mingyu waits for you to be done with somebody else so you can do his makeup, instead of sitting on another free chair. He’d come to you specifically to touch up his makeup instead of going to an artist he saw closer to him. He never forgot to get you a coffee whenever it was that he saw you.

Mingyu hadn’t slept over that night, instead leaving in his car despite the 1 AM drizzle and your insistence for him to stay until the pour recedes.

Maybe it was better for you that he hadn’t stayed that night. Something about how you grew so close ‘organically’ made you feel like this wasn’t all in your head, that he’s choosing to be your friend.

You’re handing him his clothes as he begins to change, using the excuse to whisper to him;

“I was gonna try a new brownie recipe tonight, if you’re free you can come over?”

“I think I have somewhere to be after this but I’m free after, How’s 6?”

So there you are, back in your kitchen folding chocolate chunks into your brownie batter while waiting for Mingyu to get here.

Your phone dings from the island and you check to see a message from Mingyu sending you what looked like a grocery list; pasta, oregano, garlic…

[Mingyu]: Tell me what you don’t have from this

[Mingyu]: I’m at the store rn hurry up

You send him a list of what you don’t have, realising he intended to have dinner with you too.

[Mingyu]: k thanks

[Mingyu]: be there in like an hour

There’s a warm feeling that’s swelling in your chest, that makes you wanna punch a wall because your so happy. You choose self control, mostly because this apartment is on a lease but also you’d probably break your knuckles trying to punch anything harder than a foam mat.

By the time Mingyu’s here, the brownies are in the oven and you’re almost done with the icing. He unpacks the groceries (and the warm lattes) he bought while you finish up, confirming that he was trying a new pasta recipe tonight. Setting the brownies and coffee down on your usual coffee table, you decide wait a couple hours before starting on making dinner, instead choosing to hear him ramble about an idol he met at an award show.

“So, we start talking before we’re ready to go up- you weren’t there you were working on wonwoo’s makeup- and he starts complimenting me and so obviously I start complimenting him back”

He’s waving his arms around, and setting positions with coasters on the table trying to explain the setting.

“He asks me if I have a sister and I’m like… yes? Which I should’ve realised where this was going because he then” - he pauses to take a deep breath - “this absolute asshat decides it’d be funny to ask me for her number because apparently ‘if you’re this hot, I’m sure any sibling you have is too’ BRO, WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU SAY THAT - how are laughing at this?!”

You calm yourself down for a second to clarify, “NO! It’s just hilarious how he thought that was okay to say”

You’re still still giggling in shock when Mingyu calms down, now also laughing incredulously.

“But actually though, please tell me you smacked him” you manage.

“I would have,” he grumbles “I got called to fix my hair cuz I ruined it or something”.

“Oh well, now you know who to avoid next time,” you say as you guide a bite of brownie into his mouth, “Forget about it now, eat sugar, it’ll help”

He chews a bit before swallowing, all while you’re watching him with an endeared smile on your face.

“Y’know, I really thought you didn’t like me when you first joined the team”

You pause mid sip of your coffee, brows furrowed, “What do you mean?”

“You never really talked me, did you? You were friendly with the rest of them but it just seemed like you never wanted to enter a room if you saw me there”

You’re looking at him in utter shock, this man was mistaking your avoidant (yet also pushy) teenage crush behaviour for dislike.

He’s looking at you expectantly, a little pout on his face.

“I never disliked you, why would you think that? I promise everything was a coincidence, it was nothing like that”

“Don’t get so defensive, kinda obvious you like me now if not before” He laughs at your panicked expression.

He meant platonic like.

“I’m sorry I made you feel like that though, I’ve been told I have a pretty serious resting bitch face, it’s gotten me in trouble before” she smile sheepishly.

“It’s fine, you made up for it with that first banana bread” He says before taking another bite of brownie, “Could use more chocolate chunks”

You snort before pushing him with a sock clad foot, “Appreciate me even giving them to you” 

You fall back to the adjacent sofa.

It’s quiet for a moment. But you feel like something’s shifted in the air.

You watch as he brings his hand to the same foot, holding onto your ankles. He’s caressing the exposed skin with his fingers, moving them back and forth. His eyes are glued to yours, looking like he’s in a trance. You’re not sure how to register this new change in mood, suddenly feeling like you need to turn the aircon on during the bleak Seoul winter. Just as you're hoping you don’t start sweating, you feel his vice grip on your ankle pull your leg over with a sharp tug. You scream as you lose support of the sofa and fall back.

You sit up in shock to find him leaning with his elbows on the floor, cackling like madman.

“Mingyu, what the fuck?”

“You-” He stops to laugh again, “You should’ve seen your face, PLEASE, it was hilarious”.

You huff before getting up shoving his shoulder with your foot again, “You’ve been playing guest a little too long, maybe it’s time you get started on that pasta”

“Will I be blessed enough to be receiving her highness’s help?” He asks.

He looks like a dream, clad in his T-shirt because he claims he doesn’t get cold. Hands behind him on the floor to give him support as he stares up at you, smiling wide. He’s looking at you with eyes full of stars and glitter.

You muster up the courage to give him a nasty glare, to which he huffs at and gets up, “Such a meanie”.

It’s hard to conceal your smile as his back his turned, sachaying towards the kitchen. You want to slap him and kiss him at the same time.

Your washing veggies in the sink when you turn around catch sight of his back as he stood at the kitchen island, sorting the rest of the ingredients. You get the same overwhelming feeling in your chest again, assuming you’re deluding yourself into thinking this is what life could be like with him. In less than 3 seconds, you’ve conjured a timeline of domestic routines, to wind down with him like this every evening.

You’re still lost in thought, still incessantly staring when he turns around and catches you in the act. He does the rude thing and snaps his fingers in front of your face to pull you out of your thoughts, “You okay?”

“Yeah” You say trying to gloss it over while busying yourself trying to find your cutting board.

“Are you sure? Do you wanna sit down at the island and watch me instead. You don’t have to help -”

“Pick a knife, and shut up dingus, it’s fine”

Once your both done eating and cleaning up, Mingyu hugs you goodbye, not before asking if you’d be free for lunch next week before he got busy the following month. You quickly agree, setting a date and time, bidding your (reluctant) farewells.

***

Once back in your apartment you realize how you can’t clean up to distract yourself because Mingyu took it upon himself to clear the space with you before he left. You sigh loudly and retire into your bedroom where you don’t have to think about how empty your living room is.

Changing into your pajamas and putting a headband on, you don’t even feel like turning your music on to do your night routine. You double cleanse, tone, serum, acid and moisturise your face with added purposefulness, taking note of the crevices of your nose and the neglected bottom of your chin. Taking extra time to make sure all of the foam is out of your skin before drying your face with a tissue.

You look at your fed skin in the mirror, and feel a weird surge of tears well in your eyes. Before they can fall you slam your bathroom cabinet to busy yourself to find your melatonin gummies, shoving them in your mouth before switching off the bathroom light and retiring to your bedroom.

Slipping the headband off and sliding into bed, you’re still chewing your gummies to a paste in your mouth. Trying not to notice how heavy you’re breathing you try to find your white noise machine, the one you found advertised for infants, and turn it on before grabbing your book to read for a few extra minutes.

Your staring at the pages like you found them to be blank. You’re phone dings next to you, signalling a notification.

Picking it up you find your mental health app sending you a daily reminder.

You’re allowed to feel your emotions.

***

Winter had run its course as you find yourself in April. You never really liked the cold, having been more sensitive to a gust of wind than the average joe, you were better suited to sitting with an aircon instead of being unable to move in the middle of Korea’s January cold rush. But alas, the cherries are blossoming and your fingers have defrosted.

That isn’t what’s on your mind right now though, as you’re standing in a Sephora, arms crossed and shoulders tense. You loved shopping for makeup, but you mostly chose to do it online unless you really had to otherwise. Parking yourself in the perfume section with the scents mixing together a cocktail of nosehair doom, you really wish you’d worn a face mask. Not to mention the migraine inducing coloured lights and mainstream pop playing in the background (you swear they’ve been playing Side to Side by Ariana Grande on loop since you got here).

These were all, however, peripheral observations for you, as you stare in absolute pneumonic shock at the number written on the price tag of the perfume you’re looking at.

Now, Mingyu is a man of class, high maintenance if you will. You’re well aware he likes to spoil himself, because he has a bank account to back it up.

Your bank account is definitely full and secure, but not enough for you to justify dropping what seems like half of its contents to something only one of the five senses can experience.

Mingyu mentioned in passing how he wanted this perfume a while ago, and knowing that he hadn’t ordered it for himself just yet, you decide to be the amazing friend that you are and surprise him for his birthday.

You may be regretting that right now, but you tentatively pick up the blue, crystalline bottle and spritz a bit on a paper strip before taking a whiff. It smelled good, that’s for sure, and it suited him too. So when the saleslady came to offer assistance, after you excused the last three, you decide you’re going to do this for him.

“Yes, could I have this in the box please?”

Walking back to your car you feel a bount of jitter run through you,

Oh, he’s gonna freak out when he sees this.

He did, in fact, freak when he saw it, and his reaction made you want to give him all of the good things in the world if you could see him like this all the time.

He’s smiling ear to ear and speaking in that high pitched voice that he gets when he’s excited. He’s thanking you over and over again, smoothing the box over in his hands repeatedly, looking at the ‘from: y/n :p’ with hearts in his eyes.

“I’m gonna save this for the rest of my life” he says, with determination and a goofy grin.

You snort at the declaration, “Sure, bud”

“I’m serious. What, you wanna bet?” he replies, taking a sip of his, latte, which you proudly credit yourself for swerving him over from Americano’s.

He insisted on going out to eat at this fancy French place a day before his actual birthday as he’d be busy on the day of, but it was risky for him to be seen eating out alone with a young woman at such a fancy place. You settled for a nicer traditional Korean restaurant, that allowed you to book a room away from possible prying eyes and one that you were both comfortable with. You decided to wait till you were back in the car with your post dinner coffee’s to give him his present.

“I’m giving you 3 months before that bottle’s dry to the dregs” You affirmed, “You smell like you empty half a bottle of something off your dresser everyday anyways”

You said it as an insult, but jokes on you because you loved the way he smelled.

“Fine, I’m gonna use this so carefully I’m not replacing it for at least a year”

“A year? What happened to the rest of your life?” you refute.

“I have you for that, don’t I”

What the fuckity fuck.

He’d turned to you, leaning on the headrest, that signature cheesy look; like he was in love or something. Voice dropping a couple octaves as he said it, laced with something defined and strong - enough for it to feel like the weight of an elephant had dropped on your chest.

You gather yourself after looking at him for a couple seconds, jaw unhinged and forgotten on the floor of his car. You chose to grab your cardigan that was neatly folded on the dash, and astral project it to his face across the seat. He’s laughing so hard there’s tears glistening in the corner of his eyes. He falls forward and you see strands of his hair fall to his face, he’d been growing them out.

“Shut up” you grumble in your seat, annoyed at how easy it was for him to send your heart through and beyond your chest.

He’s still giggling like a school girl, and you cave and give him a hint of a smile.

“There it iiiis” He announces, grabbing your face and smushing your cheeks together.

For a moment, he stops to look at you like this, like he’s contemplating. For one, brain rattling, organ exploding, microsecond, you think he might even kiss you.

Instead, he headbutts you slightly rubbing his head swiftly before letting go.

“I might need to wash my hands, I think I got your makeup on me” He mumbles, looking at his hands like a child with mud soaked palms.

“Serves you right, you buffoon,” You remark as you pull out your trusty travel pack of makeup wipes.

Yanking one out of the tab, you pull his hand over and try to wipe the remnants of foundation off, starting from the heel up to each individual finger. It’s silent as you concentrate on getting it all off both hands, he was wearing black tonight and knowing him he’d rub his hand over his pants and get beige foundation all over. You knew because you’d seen him do it one too many times.

“All done” you quip, looking up and catching his stare. He’s smooth to slowly look away and retract his open hands from your lap about 5 seconds after it became noticeable.

You busy yourself by attempting to stash away the wipes to throw out later, closing the pack of wipes and shoving them back into your bag.

He’s watching you do all of this, his stare is burning holes into the side of your head. He’s desperate to say something, but you’re not sure if you want to hear.

“Let’s go back to my place. We’ll stick a candle into a sheet brownie and call it your birthday cake. Oh, we can pick up ice cream too!”, You say, costuming your voice to sound unaffected by his vibe.

And so you did stick a candle in the fresh batch of brownies you both made at 11PM, two hours before his actual birthday. Sitting across from each other on the counter, Mingyu has his eyes closed shut, hands clasped, wearing a ridiculously coloured ‘BIRTHDAY BOY’ headband you found somewhere deep in your drawers.

“You’re gonna get wax on the brownies and they're gonna be inedible, hurry up” You groan, after everytime it seems like he’s done, he clenches his eyes shut again as he remembers another thing he has to wish for.

You’re not actually annoyed, he looks the cutest he’s ever looked, but you would appreciate non waxed brownies.

When he’s finally done, he blows out the singular candle and you clap lightly, “yay!”

You’re pulling out the candle and grabbing forks, dumping a couple scoops of ice cream on before you two start eating straight out of the pan.

Its a collection of groans as you both collapse on your couch, regretting eating all that so soon after dinner. He changed out of his dinner outfit to a T-shirt and pajama pants, he’d started keeping a set of clothes in his car when it started to become routine for him to spend regular  evenings after work at your place.

You’re in your own unicorn pajama’s, slumped over on the arm rest slightly. You feel Mingyu scooch over to put his head in your lap, claiming he was “closing his eyes for a minute”.

You knew how lightning fast he passes out, so not even 5 minutes later you start to hear his light snores. As much as you want to wake him up to move him to the bed, you know he can’t stay the night. His birthday meant he had to be with the boys, and needing to head out early tomorrow.

So you give him 10 more minutes, fingers tracing the shape of his features, in his soft hair massaging his head with your nails slightly. He had a little pout on his face as he slept. Things had been hectic for him lately, having a comeback later in the month and the plethora of music and variety shows to follow.

Mingyu had been writing lyrics on the kitchen island one day, sputtering random words as you quipped in rhymes of your own without context, stirring the pot of soup on the hob at the same time.  

One particular rhyme you spew out catches him off guard and he barks out a laugh at the ridiculous combination.

“I should put you on song credits for this”

“What do you think my producer name could be?”

He thinks for a second, “Banana bread sounds stupid, um, how’s brownie?”

“Cute, and serious enough” you agree, “I’ll be expecting to see my name on that album, sir”

Snapping out of your thoughts, you turn your attention back to the sleeping man curled up in your lap. You wonder if you could fall asleep on the couch too, keep him here with you for the night. Be a little selfish. It’d be nice, making waffles for breakfast when morning comes. But he needed to be at the dorm in the morning, the boys knew where he was but managers that’d come pouring in at 7 AM sharp, did not. And it was best kept that way. The last thing Mingyu wanted, you knew, was people getting the wrong idea. The thought stung a little bit, but you knew not to mix your hopes with what reality was giving you.

So you gather the courage to slowly reign him back from dreamland.

***

Your sitting with Mingyu and Seungkwan on the couches outside the dressing rooms, a little bit before they have to go to perform. You were done with your agenda and was waiting for them to start filing out before beginning to pack up.

“No, because why does he get to eat all the good stuff right out the oven and we don’t, that’s not fair” Seungkwan complained loudy to you, a mildly offended look on his face.

“Stop being such a complain bot, you’re never happy if I have nice things” Mingyu retorts, increasingly nasty looks being exchanged for an argument about freshly baked goods.

“Oh, I’m the hater?! Let me jog your memory, who was the one sulking and shoving me around when Y/n wouldn’t let you-”

Mingyu had jumped up and pulled Seungkwan into a headlock, his poor Americano half flying across the hall as he yells out in disarray.

“YAH!” cued with more noises of struggle and muffled threats.

You chose to embrace the violence by sitting in your seat and laughing as Vernon recorded their antics from the doorway inside eventually circing them for his supposed cinematic effect, catered for the inevitable weverse post that was to come.

Cut to them apologizing and cleaning up the mess of coffee and disregard.

You decide to be nice and attempt to make peace by reassuring Seungkwan, “Come over after you’re done promoting this week, I’ll make up for all the bread and cookies you missed out on”

“If you've finished with your escort duties Y/n, could you please come in and do your day job?”

The voice came from the doorway of the dressing room, your senior makeup artist standing there with her usual mildly inconvenienced expression. It took you a minute to fully understand what she meant by that sentence, your body completely still.

“Offended? What, like I’m wrong?”

You were no stranger to insulting behaviour in work places, but they’d always been revolving around your actual job description. People who didn’t like you knew they had to be smart on how they treated you regardles.

This was different. This felt like you were projected back in time to your solemn middle school days to mean girls taunting you about your spongebob socks, except multiply that by about a thousand.

You feel your stomach begin to churn as that nauseous feeling of shame began to settle itself into your veins.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been sitting there but when she slightly raises her voice; “Are you getting up or not?” your hands actively begin to tremble the slightest amount.

You’re making moves to get up by puting your coffee cup down, not knowing what to do except follow commands.

Your interrupted by a voice from behind; “She’s coming in, give us a minute”

Mingyu’s standing there, his expression stoic as Seungkwan and Vernon looked as stunned as you felt. You don’t register it in the moment, but the people in the hall, venue staff and those for other artists have also silenced, watching the scene unfold.

Her lips are in a tight line, her expression remaining irritated as she steps back inside the room.

You realise you need to do something to diffuse the escalated situation. Letting out a breathy laugh, you get up and tell them that you’ll be going inside, trying to keep your expression pleasant and unaffected, not waiting before turning around to spare them the burden of a response. People get yelled at everyday, and this is no different. You aren’t gonna be the one to make a scene out of a regular occurrence.

You know what's coming when you get inside, she’s waiting as she pulls you aside.

“Your behavior has been quite concerning recently, let me remind you of your place here and what you were hired to do. You've been dilly dallying with people who aren't even your friends, and its quite funny that you’d think they are. It's time to wake up from wasting your time making heart eyes at men who are way out of your league. I won't tolerate any more nonsense from you, and trust I won’t be this nice or forgiving the next time this happens”

You choose to nod your head.

“That’s another thing, use your own words. Don’t think other people are gonna be there all the time to speak for you” She spits out, her professional front slowly eroding the more she spoke.

“Yes, ma’am” You say, hoarse voice.

“Louder, next time”, she stalks out as majority of the people in the room also begin to leave for the filming downstairs.

You’re left standing awkwardly in front of the racks of clothes, trying to digest what just happened to you. Looking around the room, you try to figure out what your supposed to do.

Clothes on the couches, eyeshadow brushes on the floor. There’s a torn sponge resting underneath one of the chairs, a couple styrofoam boxes left on the tables from lunch.

There’s so much for you to do, you arent sure how you thought you had time to sit down and chat. But you’re not sure where to begin either. The room is a mess of smells and colours even without the buzzing noise of people getting ready. Tears begin to form as you try to navigate what you’re supposed to do, realising you can’t possibly find a starting point for any of this mess. Before you have time to think of anything else, a hand is holding onto your wrist, small and soft.

It’s Yoona, another one of the makeup artists.

“Y/n, I think it’s best if you go home, it’s been tiring.”

“But-”

“Don’t worry, I’ll handle her. Just trust me. Go home you’ll feel alot better”

She notices you hesitate for a second, and goes in to give you a hug.

It felt nice, to be hugged by a friend. For some reason, it didn’t feel like she was pitying you, her expression and aura reassuring you that you didn’t have to stand here alone.

“Whatever happened today shouldn't have happened, but you don’t need to think about that right now. Go home and do nice things for yourself, we’ll figure it out later. You have my number, give me a text once you get home. We can go out later if you want, when I get off work, to get your mind off things”

You’re not sure how you’re holding back the waterpark that has become of your tearducts as you hear those words from an unsuspecting friend, you nod with a smile. You feel a little more calm.

You can’t tell if you care enough to consider the consequences of your senior finding out how you’re doubling or nothing on your already posed humiliation. But the only thing you can think of right now is your bed and the ceiling you’d stare burn holes into.

So you, for the first time in a while, chose to choose yourself by picking up your satchel and leaving the chaos behind you as you walk to your car.

***

Just because you were brave where it mattered most doesn’t mean you weren’t allowed to cry.

You had come home, shot Yoona a brief text, and promptly began to sob the absolute Nile into your sheets.

You had never cried like this before, loud wracked sobs coming from a place in your chest you had locked away during a time you couldn’t even remember. You’re breathing after every choked cry is a sputtered intake of life, only to spit it back out as you let out another sob of what sounds like agony. There’s nothing in your head, nothing but the words that were spoken to you as echoes of your own mind. Hypocritical of you to hate them when the same words circled in your head like a mantra every cursed, unfortunate day. She had done you a favour, by spitting out the truth you’d stewed, chewed and kept in your mouth ever since you got here. This was a you problem, to believe that you were capable of things beyond your bracket. You were told by the universe, screamed at by the world, that this was never meant for you, and you chose to ignore it. You chose to be stubborn. You brought this misery upon yourself.

Once you’ve disposed your body weight of tears and snot and burden, you’re left to stare at your innocent sheets now stained with mascara and your sorrows. You crawl into your covers and rest your muscles for a few seconds, head empty. You aren’t sure when you drift off, but you're glad that you do.

You don’t dream for once.

***

You wake up feeling like you drank a gallon of water and went to sleep. Your eyes, nose and throat feel like they’ve been over watered yet dry at the same time. You don’t realise what’s really arising pangs of irritancy in your brain once you figure out the consistent sound is a door bell. You’re doorbell, of the house that you live in.

You’re slow to push yourself up, realising your slept in your day clothes. It’s dark out but you're not sure what time it is, and quite frankly, you can’t say you care enough to check. You need to silence your doorbell first, which can only be done by silencing whatever hell sent individual was playing drums on the button outside.

It’s a record screech in your brain as you peer through your peephole and realise who the aforementioned hell sent individual was.

Mingyu was outside your door.

You don’t realise you look like you crawled out of a sewer till it’s too late and you’ve already opened the door through muscle memory. Mingyu was always welcome in your space.

He was in casual clothes, his hair pushed back from the guessed hands that ran through it, but he was still in stage his stage makeup.  

“Oh, were you sleeping?” He asks, eyes a little wide, expression cautious.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll go then, you weren’t answering your phone for anyone and you told Yoona you were home but you weren’t opening the door, i was worried. Sorry I ringed it so much I probably should’ve assumed-”

He stops to look at you, and it’s like realizes something before he finally says; “Just wanted to make sure you were okay, I’ll see you around. I’ll leave you alone”

“Wait,” you croak out, licking your lips, conscious of your morning voice, “Can you stay? Please? If you can.”

He stops to look at you, expression changing from sheepish to defensive.

“No! I mean, yes. Yes. I’ll stay. I’ll stay for as long as you want”

You let him in as he slips off his shoes and you lead him to the living room. His presence in the familiar place seems like it last happened eras ago, when he was only here maybe a week prior.  

“You know where everything is, I’ll be back gimme like 5 minutes”

You’re scared to look at yourself in your bathroom mirror, so you don’t, and choose to scrub your face looking down at your sink. You change into a sweatshirt and trouser loungewear set, deciding to save your dignity a little bit further as you brush your hair and clip it back with a claw clip.

You take a breath before entering the living room again.

He’s sitting on the floor in your usual place, two steaming mugs on the coffee table, the tabs hanging out of the cup. He made you tea.

You sit down next to him, not really prepared for what you should be saying.

“How long has she been speaking to you like that?” He asks you quietly.

“She was always kinda itchy and uptight and stuff but, it was never like this” You say.

“Regardless, whatever that was, it was, wrong, uncalled for, all of those things” He says, sputtering a little bit.

He stops and sighs. It’s silect for a minute before he turns in his seat to face you, grabbing your folded legs and pulling you to face him too.

“Yoona heard everything she said to you after you went in, she heard it all. And she knows about some other stuff too. If you think, even for a second, that I’m not your friend, I might actually think there’s something wrong with you.

“If everything we’ve been through this past, almost a year, doesn’t amount to us at least being friends then I don’t know what it means to have one at all. You’re the first person in a while I’ve been able to be this open with. You know me better than most people, you’ve seen me at my worst and at my best. I’ve let you read me all you want, because I know I can be an open book if it’s you. I trust you more than I can trust myself sometimes, and I really wish you would trust me too.”

You’re watching him as he says all of this, you look up to make eye contact a couple times, and he’s looking at you everytime you lift your head.

“I do trust you. Probably more than anyone else. It’s myself I don’t trust. It’s hard for me to open up, I’m scared I’m gonna say something that’ll scare you away. And, I just thought maybe she was right today, that I need to realise that it can’t be that way between us, I have a job to do”

“What can’t be between us?”

“I like you, Mingyu. Like, I’m basically in love with you and have been since I fucking met you. I couldn’t believe that you could possibly be friends with someone like me, a confused, all over the place airhead who can’t tell right from left sometimes, forget you ever liking me. All that happened is that we became friends and I thought that this was as far as fate was gonna push us. All today told me was that … that was an overextension too. It was a wake up call that I can’t have everything in life. Things were going too well for us and I was letting myself think it could stay that way forever. I’m sorry for being this way, I’m sorry for making you feel uncomfortable and out of place. This is the last thing you’d want to hear from a friend and I’m sorry I’m putting you in this situation right now and that you had to go through that today-”

You don’t finish what your saying because you're interrupted. Interrupted by arms pulling you forward and into Mingyu in front of you.

Your both sitting in your living room at 3 AM, on the floor in front of your sofa like you both have so many times. Except now, Mingyu is holding you in his arms, and kissing you so delicately it hurts.

It’s warm, like getting into bed after a long day, the scent of home and security engulfing you as you begin to forget about the qualms of life.

He’s moving his lips slowly, with care and a feeling so overflowing you can’t describe.

He lets go slowly and rests his forehead against yours, his arms are around you tight, legs wrapped around your entire body so you can't escape - physically or mentally.

“You dumbass” You hear him say.

“I love you,Y/n. More than anything. And I need you to know that you don’t have to hide. If you think your thoughts are a burden then I want to carry it for you. I want you to realise you’re not alone. I want you to stop pushing me away. Everytime I want to do something nice for you, you try to push the effort to something else, everytime I try to take care of you, you have this look that makes me think you feel guilty for taking up my time or something. Everytime I think you’re about to ask me to stay the night, you remind me I have priorities and I should go, even though I know you want me to stay with you. I want you to stop caring so much for how other people feel and realise you can demand the same from the universe too. You deserve love and to be treated with care. You need to let people do that for you, love.”

Your looking at him now, your turn to have stars in your eyes.

He loves you.

And you feel it. You feel it in his words, in his eyes, in the kisses he’s leaving on your face, in his arms that are wrapped around you, ready to shield you from the world.

You don’t say anything as you fall into his chest, head on shoulder, relaxed body in the cage he’s made for you. You close your eyes as the tears are burning down your face. Except, this time they’re because your relieved.

You both got up from the uncomfortable floor and moved to your bed, still tangled within each other as you clarified everything else.

You found out that majority of the people who heard it were very upset at the situation, but didn’t know how to approach or confront her.

Seungkwan almost bust a blood vessel after he had digested what had happened, disbelief and threats on his tongue as he refused to get touched up by her during filming, apparently making a point to walk to somebody else. Seungcheol was thinking of trying to bring up the problem to management, considering how Mingyu too was distracted all the way home.

“The rest of them have gotten quite protective of you too, I think. It’s not like I shut up about you”

Apparently the only reason you were asked to start taking charge on makeup was because some of the other senior artists pressured your mentor to stop restricting you. It made you feel a little more secure that it wasn’t just you that felt pushed down.

She didn’t like that you were doing so well, considering it meant she was wrong about you and your abilities. It hurt her ego a little bit that people stopped preferring her to do their makeup or their touchups, how they wouldn’t interact with her the same way.

“Alot coming from a middle aged, married woman, attention seeking like a child” Mingyu added, scoffing with a sour face as he nuzzled into the crown of your head.

“The boys really like you by the way, they’ve been rooting for us since forever” He says, and your heart swells unimaginably so; you felt loved, so so loved.

You scooch up to plant a kiss on the underside of his chin and then one on his lips.

“That makes me happy”

“I’m happy that you’re happy. You deserve to be happy, everyday” He smooches you on the face again. “Oh, and don’t worry about that stinky face I’ll take care of her”

You laugh at the determination in his voice, but you wanted to clarify something.

“Please, let me handle her myself. I’ll ask for help if she’s stubborn but I wanna try by myself first”

“That was hot”

You push his chest away as you bark out a laugh at the random comment, hiding you face, by turning the other way.

He battles that by pull you back into his chest and continuing his atics

“What I can’t call my girlfriend hot. You’re hot. Your the sexiest motherfucker I’ve ever seen” smooch “You’re beautiful” and again  “amazing” and again “gorgeous spectacular-”

You don’t fall asleep until the sun has well made its way up the sky, taking the executive decision to sleep in till way past lunch and maybe even take a nap afterwards.

You don’t care how it goes, because your happy just being with him.

***

You met with Yoona a couple days later at a cafe.

“Seungcheol asked us if we were facing the same kind of behaviour from her too. And everyone told him she was stuck up and rude and stuff. He said he wanted to bring it up to management but it didn’t really concern him directly so they wouldn’t listen. He told us to do so ourselves and we thought about it, but we’re gonna need to tell them about that too”

You nod your head as you listen to her speak, it was making sense.

“I dont mind going up to management at all and talking about it. I get that the rest of the stuff is a little too tame to be considered, which sucks because she shouldn’t be talking to us like that at all”

“Mhm, and I was thinking we could vouch for you on how she was restraining you for almost a year. Basically not letting you do your job. That’d be a another thing for them to think about”

“Yeah. Let’s do it asap, how’s this Monday?”

“Perfect, I’ll add everyone to a group chat and let them know”

And go up to management you did, who were surprisingly understanding. Apparently having received multiple reports and even videos of the most recent incident to act as proof. It was working out for all of you, and it proved to stay that way as they responded with a promise to shift her to a different department.

You had gone home that day feeling fulfilled and relieved. Mingyu, a man with spectacular timing had also proceeded to send you a text as a distraction,

[Mingyu]: Kwan wants to come over

[Mingyu]: something about croissants

[Mingyu]: Should he text you ab it?

[You]: yeah ofc

[You]: I’ll order the butter

[You]: you tell him to text me lol

Two nights ago felt like it happened last year with all the unimaginable advances deciding to happen within the past 48 hours. Right now you were more excited for the company you were about to recieve, more concerned with making sure you made the best batch of croissants Seungkwan ever did see.

***

You were in the car with Mingyu outside the company building, waiting until the clock struck 9 to go inside.

Today was the last day you’d think about this, being called up for a face to face meeting with the staff member, so she could formally apologise. The team had planned a dinner tonight, to celebrate the end of her ‘wicked reign’ as Yoona described it.

You were finding friends everywhere, ones that were always there, pulling through for each other as you yourself navigated a new direction of thinking for yourself. You were learning to walk past your anxiety ridden desire to draw lines with everyone, as you took the first step with the dinner tonight. It would be fun for you, and a bond you’d begin to build.

You learned that you weren’t delusional anymore, and that Mingyu did love you the same. It had only been a week or so, but one of the happiest weeks of your life, despite everything. He was teaching you more lessons than he thought he was.

Mingyu squeezes your hand from the driver’s side as it was past 9, “Let’s go?”

“Lets go”

***

Mingyu’s way too enthusiastic as soon as he wakes up, indulging you in a morning (afternoon) makeout session, claiming he doesn’t care for you morning breath.

“Well I do!” you exclaim, pushing him off with a giggle “About your morning breath, stinky”

He clutches his chest in dramatic offense, “How could you? I thought you loved me”

You respond my projecting a cushion to his face.

“Do you want pancakes or eggs for breakfast?” You ask, legs hanging over the bed.

Mingyu looks up, a wicked glint in his eye, and you immediately know he’s going to say something of no help.

“I want you for breakfast” He says, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you back in bed.

“MINGYU!”

Needless to say, all was well.

[haddonfieldwhore]

fragile - matthew tkachuk

matthew tkachuk x gn! reader

summary: after back to back losses, all matty needs is some words of reassurance from his favourite person

word count : 0.8k

warnings: maybe some angst but mostly fluff, sappy, hinted at nsfw themes for 2 seconds, not edited

you were almost asleep when you heard the door, as matthew finally got back to the hotel. you hadn’t been at the game, staying back with a headache this time, but you had watched it on tv; it wasn’t good. you listened as he kicked off his shoes with a sigh, and heard the soft thud of his clothes and bag landing on the floor. the bed dipped next to you and his arms wrapped around you, pulling your back against his chest, nuzzling his chin into the crook of your neck.

“hey, baby,” you murmured softly.

“hey,” he sighed, his eyes closed.

“i’m sorry,” you sighed; you hated how helpless you always felt watching the team when they were down.

“you watched it,” was all he said. you rolled over in matty’s arms, placing soft kisses up his throat. “is there anything i can do to cheer you up?” you hummed, gently creating a love bite under his jaw. sometimes the best way to improve his mood after a tough game was quite simply to let him take his… frustrations out on you, and you were never going to complain about the more dominant side of him it brought out; but tonight was different.

“i just want to hold you,” he replied, and you were a little surprised, but your heart fluttered just the same. you snuggled into his chest as his arms tightened around you.

“is something else bothering you?” you asked.

“besides the back to back 4-0 losses, you mean?” he laughed bitterly.

“matt-“

“what if it’s me?” he asked, and to say you were at a loss for words was an understatement. matthew tkachuk was someone with a great deal of confidence, often mistaken for arrogance by some; either way, self doubt wasn’t the usual thing for him. you pulled back slightly so you could look at him, his blue eyes sad and missing their usual playful gleam.

“matthew that’s ridiculous. where is this coming from?”

“have you seen my stats? i’m supposed to be this star player, and i can’t even score a goal.” you reached up to gently hold his face, the light stubble on his chin tickling the palm of your hand.

“so you’re off to a slower start than expected- it happens. and besides, you guys are a team; one person doesn’t win or lose, you guys do it together,” you said, admittedly not used to having to comfort him like this. “you guys have been doing great; two games isn’t the end of the season.”

“what if i’m holding the team back?”

“you’re not-“

“what if i am?” he insisted, his eyes that had until now avoided your gaze finally locked with yours. his eyes searched yours with a pleading hopefulness for any kind of sign that he was wrong; that it wasn’t all his fault.

“matty you broke your sternum six months ago; you’re being extremely hard on yourself. you are not some kind of dead weight, and i don’t ever want to hear you say anything like that again,” you pleaded. “it’s amazing that you’re back to playing as well as you are so fast after what happened. i know you’re used to being one of the best - because you really are - but i think you just have to settle for being ‘pretty good’ until you’re back to the place you were at in the playoffs.”

“what if i never get back to that level again?”

“you will. if anything you’ll be better because you want it more.” you promised, and he was silent for a second, as if thinking over everything you’d said.

“what did i do to deserve you?” he asked, shaking his head slightly as the first hint of a smile appeared on his lips.

“i ask myself that about you every day,” you smiled, pressing your lips to his. you hummed softly as his hands slid up your back to deepen the kiss, and you tangled your fingers gently in his soft curls, his hair still slightly damp from the post game shower.

“i love you,” he mumbled against your lips, and you smiled into the kiss.

“i love you too.”

you laid your head back down on matthew’s chest, and felt him press a kiss to the top of your head as you tangled your legs with his under the blankets. the familiar scent of his expensive cologne lingered on his skin as you kissed his collarbone in response, and whispered a quiet ‘goodnight’, already feeling yourself drifting off to sleep.

“goodnight angel,” matthew mumbled, feeling slightly better as he replayed everything you had said in his mind. he knew deep down that you were right; that he was expecting the world of himself, when at the end of the day, he was just a person. but to you, he was home, even in a city miles away from it.

disclaimer: all screenshots, events, and/or interactions depicted in this are a work of fiction. i have no association with any parties mentioned

[rosakuma]

Okay depending on who’s the culprit revealed tonight….I just want to say that

If its Eden and she killed Arei for any sapphic angst reasons, I need edits of her and Arei to “Good Luck, Babe!” stat. PLEASE THE ONLY WAY I CAN COPE WITH EDEN DYING IS IF WE CREATE A BUNCH OF SAPPHIC ANGST WITH HER AND AREI!

[caplanbuckybarnes]

OMG I SO SORRY FOR THE ASK I HADN'T FINISHED IT I WAS ASKING ABT YOU GIVING ME SOME WRITING TIPS AND IT AUTOCORRECTED WHEN I WROTE I BC MY PHONES MESSED UP LIKE THAT AND I DIDNT REALISE OML I'M SO SORRY PLZ FORGIVE ME MOOT PLEASE I LOVE YOUR WRITING I PROMISE ESP YOUR BUCKY FICS AND THAT I'M SORRY

no worries, honey.. i figured that was the case. you want writing tips?? Sure.

Never force your writing. If ideas don't come to your mind, don't force them. It will sound like hell, and you will indeed hate yourself over it. Are you stuck on a scene in your writing? Skip it and write what comes after. The words will come eventually. I can't tell you how many times I was stuck on a scene to write out the following few scenes after, and then the scene I was stuck on came back to me in droves.

Write what YOU love and what YOU want to write if you don't want to write out a request/idea someone sent to you, then don't. You don't need to explain yourself. Don't feel as though you HAVE to accept a request from someone; you'll burn yourself out and hate yourself worrying over the request/idea.

Write about whatever you want to: your favourite character/blurbs. Write new AUs, write angst, fluff, smut, whatever you want. Ignore the antis; every fandom has them, and it's honestly not worth the time and effort. Block the people who try to bash you for writing a character/pairing they don't like. Fandoms are meant to be a fun, safe space. Write what you want, and love every word of it.

Don't proofread ANYTHING until you know you're finished with your piece of writing/art.

Get an extra set of eyes to look over your work, whether it's some stranger on the internet you trust or a person in person who you trust to be completely honest with you about edits/scenes you need to rewrite/whatever else they might ask. Sometimes, when we look over our writing, our brain ignores the mistakes, so get an extra set of eyes.

You don't have to post every day/week/month to be a writer. You're still a writer if only one word gets written/typed daily. Take care of yourself first & foremost. I know writers on tumblr/ao3 that have burnt themselves out writing nonstop, it's not mentally safe to force yourself to write just for a few commetns/reviews/kudos.

Which brings me to Ao3/Tumblr stats. DON'T compare yourself to other writers. EVER. Yes, there's always going to be a fic that's more popular then yours will EVER be. & that's totally fine. Whether you get one like/kudos/comment, or a thousand of them. ENJOY WHAT YOU DO! because guess what?? As they say on Whose Line Is It Anyway? THE POINTS DO NOT MATTER! you're writing for FUN, no other reason!!!

You'll be your absolute worst critic when it comes to your own writing. Don't be too harsh on yourself. The reason why you hate your own writing and think it sucks & nobody is going to read it is because you've read it over numerous times yourself and found it to be predictable; NEWSFLASH, DING DING! It's NOT!!

You will ALWAYS improve your writing. I recently went back to look at a bunch of my own writing from 2018 and noticed how much I've improved since then. Yes, the writing makes me cringe, but that's entirely okay. It means I grew as a writer.

Experiment with Aus that you wouldn't see in canon. I tend to always, always go for a good ole Mafia AU, because, let's face it, guns?? blood?? gore?? but also, fluff?? baking cookies with your lover ay 3am AU?? hellooo?? I never know where my mind will take me when I start a new drabble/one shot.

11. Take your time; don't rush a word out.

[taniushka12]

10, 11, 12 for the ao3 wrapped game!

10. What work was the quickest to write?

Both Knight in shining armor and Intermission! I wrote both for a February ficlet challenge so it took me a day, maybe two to write each one which is INSANE for me sdfsdfdfg

11. What work took you the longest to write?

hmm.... I Think it would be What literary agents -and friends- are for (my alan/barry yuri smutfic that is only 15% smut and 85% dialogue), according to my stats it took me three months to write that bad girl u_u im not... really good writing smut, lmfao

12. How many WIP’s do you have in your docs for next year?

uffff.... like six wips! There are two of those that I've actually already finished and only need editing (a small alwake/control crossover and a barry angst fic) which id Love to finish before the end of the year, but who's to say ¯\_(😔)_/¯ and then you have:

Solar Eclipse (pre canon alan/barry)

Missing Connection (name pending) (a sorta alwake/quantumbreak crossover? its an alan & tim conversation and paul is heavily mentioned and some parallelisms with barry are made. this goes to the fans of best friendisms)

Widdle Waby Otters (for the podcast wolf359, the otp literally sleeping together in zero g <3)

and of course the creme de la creme, the piece de resistance, Wish You Were Here 😌 (alice and barry spending alan's birthday together four years after his presumed death)

[ao3 wrapped writer's edition]

[vexic929]

Writers Truth or Dare!

🎱🕯️🥤

🧸🍬🌿

🏜️🍦🐝

🎱 ⇢ post your AO3 total stats

🕯️ ⇢ on a scale from 1 to 10, how much do you enjoy editing? why is that?

like a 2, I do it because I have to but I've never been good at editing my own work lol I'd much rather have a friend look it over cause I'll get in my head about it XD

🥤 ⇢ recommend an author or fanfic you love

this one is just so cute <3333

🧸 ⇢ what's the fastest way to become your mutual?

follow me back on tumblr? lol if we're moots, we're moots, if we're not that's okay I still love you <3333

🍬 ⇢ post an unpopular opinion about a popular fandom character

neither Tim nor Damian should be Robin at this point, they've both grown past it, the current Robin should be Maps Mizoguchi

🌿 ⇢ give some advice on writer's block and low creativity

I'm not usually very good at dealing with writer's block honestly XD but I find sometimes all you need is to watch an episode of one of your favorite shows to get your brain invested in the creative process again

🏜️ ⇢ what's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work?

literally any, I'm not picky, you can leave an emoji or something and it's totally fine! that said I do love when people quote lines that they enjoyed and talk about them, I always like to find out what stood out to people especially if it's not something I anticipated <3333

🍦 ⇢ name three good things about a character you hate

I don't wanna compliment Lex Luthor tho lol

honestly pretty creative with some of his schemes

iconic character design

took the obsession with his enemy further than even Eobard Thawne by doing the "make a clone child with the DNA of you and your enemy", truly hingeless behavior, I'm impressed

🐝 ⇢ tag your biggest supporter(s) and say one nice thing about them

@practically-an-x-man so kind and inspiring!

@negative-speedforce so sweet and fun <3333

@autisticharrywells excellent analyses and best takes!!

@shrinkthisviolet so cool and nice <3333

@faeseekerandy an excellent friend!

@goldheartedchaoticdisaster super cool and fun!!

@angst-is-love-angst-is-life absolutely lovely and sweet <3333

I'd tag every single mutual honestly but I need to stop sometime lol just know I love you all!!! <3333

[yeetmeoutthewindowdaddy]

I'm over 21 and my blog isn't blank, please just let me devour your headcanons for my current fandom hyperfixation.

If you know me IRL, you don't. (Please never mention the contents of this blog to me or anyone else. This blog was supposed to be my anonymous shame blog.)

THIS BLOG IS NSFW/18+

This whole blog needs a spoiler warning.

I post almost exclusively about BG3.

I decided to throw some of my own ideas at the wall, if you would like to see what sticks my master list is under the cut. (It's a mix of shitposts, fanfictions, character analyses, lore breakdowns, headcanons, simping, and horny posting.)

I have a memory worse than a goldfish. I will reblog the same posts multiple times. Sometimes multiple times a day an hour. 😥

If I've spammed your notifications by mass liking your posts.

(I don't really understand how tumblr works, and most of the time I'm using it through a web browser on my old/kind of shitty new and confusing phone.)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Master list:

Characters are indexed in the order that I made posts about them in; with their respective posts listed from oldest to newest, top down.

A link with a * at the end is a link which has multiple instances on this list, but is under a (slightly) different name.

A link with a ^ at the end is a link which has multiple instances on this list under the same name.

A link with a 🔥 at the end contains smut or NSFW/18+ content.

DND:

Homebrew:

Homebrew tabaxi ability

Lore:

Elven naming conventions (ft. Halsin's name etymology)*

Everybody hates tieflings (ft. Zevlor)

Elturel's history and culture, the Hellriders (ft. Zevlor)

Where a tiefling's scent gland would be located

BG3:

Gale:

Playboy Gale

Gale has daddy issues updated

Gale cucked Gortash*

Gale has a large... vocabulary🔥

A Rose by any other name

Zevlor:

Psychoanalyzing the characters I simp for

Shopping bags

"Cat" dad Zevlor

Science rat

Vein thirst post🔥

Caging Zevlor during his rut🔥

A deep dive into Zevlor's devotion series master list (incomplete)

Using Zevlor as a chew toy

Love is an open wound^

Grandpa is too strong

Zevlor's breeding kink, horse girl edition (NOT bestiality or pony play)🔥

What Zevlor once was

Scent glands🔥

Gortash:

Monster fucker Gortash

The dark urge to simp for Gortash

Psychoanalyzing the characters I simp for (Part 2)

Durgetash Daddy Issues🔥

Gortash cucked by Gale*

Durgetash is drowning

How in the hell you spell chauffeur? (comic request)

Monster fucker lover Gortash ft. Ketheric

Astarion:

Worm love

NSFW fluffy Astarion HC🔥

A cursed thought that should've stayed in my head🔥

Rolan:

Sibling bonding time

Rolan's name etymology

Tsundere Rolan master list🔥 (ongoing)

Sub Rolan🔥

Rolan's performance issues (Part 1)

Love is an open wound^

Rolan's Tav^🔥

How Rolan got his nickname

Rolan's puppy dog eyes

Rolan's nickname

Angst potential

Rolan's performance issues (Part 2)🔥

Rolan's lisp

Rolan's lisp headcanons🔥

Rolan and sorcerer Tav imagine

Wholesome Rolan lisp idea

Rolan mod request

Princess Bride AU

Halsin:

Halsin's name etymology, and Elven naming conventions*

Halsin can't catch a break

Halsin's in-game stats, how Larian did Halsin dirty

Multiple characters:

Ranking camp companions on their childrearing abilities (Astarion, Wyll, Halsin, Gale, Shadowheart, Lae'zel, Karlach, Minthara, Mizora, Withers, Volo, Jaheira, Minsc and Boo)

Troubleshooting a PC updated (Zevlor, Dammon, Rolan)

Accidental BG3 shitpost

Tav:

Rolan's Tav^🔥

[txemrn]

Hii 🥰

I saw this picture for Valentine’s Day and thought maybe it’ll inspire a fic or an edit (no pressure 🥰)

Thank you so much, @peonierose , for this pic prompt for Valentine's Day! I kinda sorta broke the rules... as usual... lol what I wrote is more than likely NOT what you had in mind when you sent me this pic. 🙈 And also, this story happens on Valentine's Day, but it would be a stretch to call this a Valentine's Day fic. Either way, hey! New story! Thanks again for the inspiration! Enjoy! 💚

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x f!OC (Tatum Erikson-Ramsey); relationship implied, but limited interaction in this fic; they have been married for 4 years at this point

Summary: After receiving horrible life-changing news from the hospital's lab report, Tatum is overcome with worry with having to be the bearer of bad news to the couple. In her poor attempts to cope, she turns to a decadent treat.

Word Count: ~2475

Warning: Mature themes; angst; depiction of dysfunctional eating; a few curse words; mentions of pregnancy and delivery

A/N: Some of the characters and plot belong to our friends at Pixelberry; this was not beta'd, please excuse any errors

~🖤~

Looking at the STAT result of the ordered lab test, a cold chill crawls down Tatum’s spine. The thunder of her heartbeat rings in her ears as her chest begins to heave.  With her vision growing hazy, she quickly shoves her phone into the pocket of her white coat, turning to hastily leave the crowded nurse's station.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Dr. E–”  Wanda stops in her tracks, her friendly gaze shifting into worry.  She recognizes the agony crashing across Tatum’s features. “Uh…Dr. Erikson, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she waves, giving a cordial smile; but Tatum can feel the color draining from her face. She cradles her abdomen as bile teases the back of her throat.  This can’t be happening.

She hated this part: having to deliver bad, life-altering news to happy couples–especially when they're not expecting it, especially when they are living their best lives, especially when it would force them to make unimaginable decisions that could possibly haunt them forever. 

This news is hitting her hard; she is already devastated for them.

Fresh air. I need fresh air.

“I’ll be back in twenty,” she hurries past the nurse's station.

“But Mrs. Simpson is 8 centimeters,” Wanda calls out after Tatum, her hands on her hips with a shocked expression.

“I’ll be back in time,” Tatum reassures, heading for the door. “I promise.”

Her power walk turns into a run as she enters the emergency stairwell. She bolts down the five flights until she reaches the door on the bottom level that leads outside to the ambulance bays for the emergency department. A burning gurgle rises in her chest as a sour pang reaches her jaw as she swings open the door. Clenching to her stomach, she stumbles to a nearby bush and vomits. 

Taking a moment, she hovers over the green shrubs to drink in the chilly Boston air as it soothes her clammy skin. She wishes she could indulge in something to take the edge off of her nerves, like a Xanax or alcohol, but those weren’t an option. 

You’re fine, she inhales deeply. Everything’s going to be fine. You're an expert at this.

Feeling the nausea die down, she adjusts the snug fit of her scrub top before quickly retreating back into the hospital. A shiver ignites goosebumps across her body as she power-walks to the staff elevator. But something catches her eye as she passes the hospital’s gift shop: a refrigerated display case, filled with flowers and decadent cakes. 

And suddenly, her stomach growls.

“Good morning, Mrs. Ramsey.”

“Good morning, Ms. Edna.” Edna Blakenship is an 82-year-old volunteer that works in the gift shop on Tuesdays. Tatum loved getting coffee from her; she was hilarious and still quite sharp for her age. Plus she would pray to Saint Raphael, the patron saint of healing, for healthcare workers that stopped by to visit her. Tatum isn't particularly religious, but Edna's kind sentiments and positive energy always made for a great day at work. And today, she needed all the good vibes for this news.

Tatum also loved how Edna loved Ethan, treating him like the son she never had… and the mother he deserved.  She is one of the few people that can make Ethan smile with his rare, but genuinely beautiful, toothy grin.  She is also the only one in the hospital that calls Tatum by her married name; ‘Mrs. Ramsey.’ ‘The name people call you should serve as a reminder of who you are. Family comes first, my dear; then career.”

Tatum chews on her lip, pulling down her snug shirt again as the old woman’s words course through her memories. Family comes first…

“Are you thinking about getting a sweet treat for your husband for Valentine’s Day?” Edna notices the obstetrician staring at the cakes in the glass case. "You know? We got an order of these boozy dark truffles–" she grabs the box opening it up for Tatum to see. "I know Ethan would enjoy them."

The pungent odor of woodsy hops mixed with dark cocoa stings her senses, shooting an offsetting churn of uneasiness to Tatum's belly.

“Um…” Tatum nonchalantly covers her nose, feeling the back of her cheeks salivate what felt like acid. "You are so sweet to offer–" she swallows thickly, turning away from the unwelcoming odor before she hurls. "I already got him something, but, um–" she retreats frantically, stopping to look at the different cakes. "I need to get something for my nurses working today, and I was thinking a cake would be perfect. Which one would you recommend?”

“Oh, that’s easy,” she smiles mischievously. “I’d get the lemon sponge with raspberry buttercream. It has a raspberry compote filling inside.” She points to the top of the cabinet. “See that? It’s three layers, plenty for you and all of your staff to enjoy.”

Tatum’s mouth begins to water at the sight of the beautifully designed cake, complete with fresh raspberries and roses on top. The uneasiness of her anxious stomach is replaced by hunger as it comes to life, rumbling as an unexplainable need to taste the cake overwhelms her. “I’ll take it.”

Edna boxed the cake, slipping it delicately into a bag before finishing the transaction with Tatum. “Come here, dear.” The old woman steps out from behind the register, taking Tatum’s hand before bowing her head to pray.

“Thanks, Ms. Edna,” Tatum breathes a sigh of relief, “I could really use St. Raphael’s guidance today.”

“Oh,” she giggles, “I didn’t pray to him. For you, we need St. Gerard to intercede.”

"St. Gerard?" Tatum gives a curious look. “What’s he the patron saint of?”

Edna smiles kindly, a knowing glint in her eye before turning back to her counter. “Have a good rest of your shift, Mrs. Ramsey.”

Tatum eyes her suspiciously, raising an eyebrow. Suddenly feeling self-conscious, she pulls her white coat closed around her body before taking her purchase and heading back to the labor and delivery floor.

To her relief, the laboring patient was not ready to deliver upon her return to the unit.  She checked in with the nurses before heading to the physician’s lounge to clean herself up from getting sick. 

Her phone pings; looking at the alert, her mind is brought back to the present and the difficult conversation she is going to have later. This would surely be one of the hardest reports she has ever delivered, and once again, her thoughts begin to spiral.

She sets the cake down on a table, preparing to take it out to the nurses. But the decadent scent of the citrus and berries kindle a voracious desire in her that seems to quiet her anxiety.

Just one bite.

Tatum steals a raspberry from the top, a dab of the buttercream frosting clinging to the side of it, and pops it into her mouth. 

Oh. My. God.

Tatum’s eyes roll back into her head, the sweet taste satisfying her craving. Sorta. Suddenly, she needs more. She digs into one of the kitchen drawers and pulls out a knife and a fork. She cuts herself a small sliver.

The girls wouldn’t mind a small piece missing. Shoot, they don't even know there's a cake for them yet.

Licking the frosting off of her fork, she begins to plan out how she needs to deliver the bad news. In person would be better. Should she call or send a message that she needs to them meet in person?

She cut herself another piece, not wasting anytime before digging into the moist layers. Her mouth hums in delight as the sweetness relieves her uncharacteristic and unnerving appetite for something sugary.

Call. Definitely call, but could she keep herself calm and collect? She'd hate to strike panic before she can spill the truth.

She cuts a third piece. 

She would practice what to say.

A fourth piece.

As Tatum’s mind swirls, her thoughts begin to play every what-if scenario in her head.  Would there be tears? Screaming? Anger? Hurtful words? Would she be blamed for this?

She pulls the cake box closer to herself, eating straight from the container. Swipe after swipe of her fork, she engorges herself, sometimes swallowing before chewing, making way for the next bite. Unable to be tamed, unable to be satiated. Chaotic. Madness.

Until suddenly, her fork drops, clanging carelessly against the table.

A twinge of pain bores into Tatum’s head while queasiness sloshes in her stomach. She looks down at the cake box. 

And freezes.

Save for a few morsels and swipes of icing, it was gone. 

Before she can make sense of what just happened, the sugar rush of consuming an entire cake crashes into her body all at once. Her eyes refuse to focus, rolling back into her head. She wraps her arms around her bloated belly, her shirt now pulling uncomfortably tight across her midsection. She unbuttons her pants before laying her head on the cool metal table, moaning in agony.

“Dr. Erikson, we’re going to start pushing–” Wanda freezes after seeing a pitifully wilted Tatum with the remnants of the dessert next to her head; some of the cake was haphazardly smashed across her face while other chunks clung to her blonde hair. “Um...” Wanda shuts the door for privacy.  “I know it’s none of my business,” she quietly starts, “but…”

“Oh God, Wanda!” Tatum moans tearfully, interrupted by a hiccup, then a burp. “You don’t want to know.”

The seasoned nurse cautiously walks over to the physician, taking a seat. “Try me,” she playfully challenged, “I’m a good listener, and I can guarantee you I’m better than that insulin-resistance you're trying to achieve,” she chuckles.  Tatum slowly lifts her head off the table, cradling her forehead in her hands. Wanda gently rubs her back as they sit for a moment in silence. “C’mon, baby, it can’t be that bad.”

Tears sting the backs of Tatum’s eyes as she looks to Wanda. “I’m just… so stressed and-and overwhelmed. I don't think… I don't think I can do this..”

“Do what, baby–?”

Tatum quickly covers her mouth in a panic as a greenish-gray hue spreads across her skin. “I’m gon–I’m gonna–” Wanda grabs a large trashcan, placing it underneath Tatum while collecting the strands of her blonde hair to hold it back. Tatum grips onto the sides of the can, her knuckles blanching to white as she begins to wretch again and again.

Finally, the urge dissipates as Tatum lays her arm along the rim of the basket before resting her sweaty head on her wrist. Wanda grabs a nearby washcloth, dampening it with cool water. She presses it to Tatum’s skin as she sits down next to her.

“Sweetheart,” Wanda starts, combing her fingers through Tatum’s damp tresses. “You and I both know you can’t cope with stress like this. Now, I don’t know what’s going on, and I know–I know–what you’re going to think. But this is coming from an old, decrepit woman, you hear?” This earns a pained chuckle from Tatum. “Stress and worry? It’s part of life, and it makes it hard, unbearable at times. The burden is hard in our line of work–I know. Believe me, I know. But if you haven’t noticed by now, each problem that we come across in life… it doesn’t last forever. It has its own lesson for us to grow from, and then before you know it, the season is over.” 

“I just–” Tatum sits up, dabbing at the wetness in her eyes. “--I don’t even know how I’m going to go about this.”

“You’re not supposed to know how,” Wanda’s lip curls as she begins to wash the cake residue from Tatum’s mouth. “We don’t go through hard times because we are experts at it. If you already knew what to do, you wouldn’t think it was so hard, now would you?”

“Dr. Erikson, we’re starting to see head.”

Tatum nods as the delivery nurse exits the room as quickly as she entered. Still feeling queasy, Tatum slumps back in her chair, laying her head back with her eyes closed. She arches her back, stretching in hope to create more room from her binge.

“Well, I better head back out there, but think about what I said, baby, and–” she winks at Tatum as her tone turns lighthearted, “no more cake.”

A rage of nausea ravages through Tatum’s abdomen at the mention of the word ‘cake’. “Noted,” she holds her fist to her mouth as gas bubbles retreat to her mouth, the richness of the taste of sugar uncomfortably unappetizing. She clears her throat. “Wanda?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Do you know who St. Gerard is?”

The older woman snickers. “You’re an obstetrician, and you don’t know?” Wanda pulls out a chain from around her neck, revealing a silver charm of the saint.  “He’s the patron saint of childbirth and pregnant women and mothers. Why?”

“N-no reason.”

With the door closing, Tatum swiftly throws the cake box into the receptacle. Standing up slowly to maintain her balance, she shuffles slowly to retrieve from her locker a bottle of Pepto, her second one to nurse this week.

Her phone pings again. Another text from Ethan. She had ignored his message earlier. She isn't sure if it was her nerves, her overdose of sugar or maybe a mixture of both, but her trembling hands fumble to even reply.  Rather than respond now, she leaves her husband’s message unopened, clicking out of the messaging app. 

And there it is again. The last page she had pulled up on her screen before she spiraled into this nightmare.  And the test result stares strangely back at her.

hCG                137,000 IU/L

Tatum's thumb traces over each letter and number, ensuring she is reading the lab value correctly. Damnit.

She walks into the physician's private showering area to splash cool water from the sink on her face. She pats dry her skin, then turns on her heel to attend the delivery, but not before she catches her reflection in a full length mirror.

Tatum notices she forgot to button her scrub bottoms. As she lifts up her shirt, she can't help, but take in the surreal sight: it’s there. It really is there. She gently glides her hand over her lower abdomen, feeling the tiniest swell of a belly. 

Her now confirmed pregnant belly.

"Dr. Erikson. We need you for delivery."

“Coming!” Tatum manages to fasten the button to her pants before shimmying down her scrub top. Giving herself one last look over, a strange spur of confidence hits her. And she pulls out her phone to contact Ethan, but before she fires off a quick text, letting him know she needed to talk him, she quickly reads his earlier messages.

And she gasps.

Ethan: We need to talk.

Ethan: I saw Edna today.

~🖤~

Thank you so much for your support! Every like, comment and reblog means the world to me! 🖤

~🖤~

Tags (please let me know if you wish to be added/removed)

PERMA

@alj4890 @ao719 @charlotteg234 @issabees @kat-tia801 @kingliam2019 @mainstreetreader @mom2000aggie @neotericthemis @nikirennie87 @peonierose @socalwriterbee @tessa-liam

ALL OPH

@alyshak92 @annfg8 @bisexualdisasteracd @cariantha @coffeeheartaddict2 @lsvdw-blog @mvalentine @ofmischiefandmedicine @rookiemartin @starrystarrytrouble @youlookappropriate

[lifenconcepts]

🎱 ⇢ post your AO3 total stats  No it’s rather pathetic and by that I mean abandoned

🍓 ⇢ how did you get into writing fanfiction? Need more angst

🌵 ⇢ share the link to a playlist you loveFUCKKK I CANT! It’s a physical copy cuz I download music

🕯️ ⇢ on a scale from 1 to 10, how much do you enjoy editing? why is that? 10 because I don’t do it.

🛼 ⇢ describe your latest wip with five emojis!!!!!!!!!! 🏚️🚪🧪🧿🛠️

🥑 ⇢ you accidentally killed somebody, which mutual(s) do you text for help? Uhhhmmmmm @caffeinated-eccentric-polymorph :)

🥤 ⇢ recommend an author or fanfic you love THE MAN DOWNSTAIRS I won’t link it BUT OG MY GODH THE gravity falls fandom can go wild.

💌 ⇢ how many unread emails do you have right now?  About 2 :) not counting my other email which has 4,000.

🌻 ⇢ tag someone you appreciate but don't talk to on a regular basis @primalshane I need your existence in every waking second of the day.

🐇 ⇢ do you prefer writing original characters, reader inserts, or a mix of both?  All of the above and more!!!! 🧃 ⇢ share some personal lore you never posted about before. about.. me? Or characters?? Oh fuck it have both- I write in my journal a lot of I/Me/My but on character ai strictly he/they/the man/it (shut up I know A.I. sucks but I can’t help myself.

🎲 ⇢ what stops you from writing more in your free time? The voices /hj

🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings. Sherlock secretly is touch starved and John was very gently reintroduced touch into his main diet and constantly seeks out to occasional give pats or hugs of encouragement and Sherlock just internally freaks out but has gotten used to it.

🧸 ⇢ what's the fastest way to become your mutual? Compliment me and give me attention. Litterally you don’t understand how wild I go for this 🪐 ⇢ name three good things going on in your life right now. I’m maturing at a good rate and pace, my future seems clear, I’m content with now.

📚 ⇢ what's the last thing you wrote down in your notes app? uhhh let me check:

I slept so damn nice on the 10th and even tho I only got 4 hours, my dreams were so colourful (metaphorically) and intriguing!!

The amount of nutrients will affect the growth of things. Spores are the way mushrooms reproduce.

🍬 ⇢ post an unpopular opinion about a popular fandom character. John Watson isnt soft but docile.

🔪 ⇢ what's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project? Guns :) and I’d say this ain’t weird but I don’t think the fbi agent likes me opening 20 tabs of gun info. Didn’t even get to use any of the shit I learnt. 🦷 ⇢ share some personal wisdom or a life hack you swear on. THE KISS OF THE DIVINE WILL ALLOW YOUNTO CREATE POETRY UNLIKE NO OTHER AND YOUR HAND WILL NOT BE YOURS BUT THE WORDS WILL BE! Or do you mean in general oh god I presumed you meant writing.

❄️ ⇢ what's your dream theme/plot for a fic, and who would write it best? IDFK MAN IVE BEEN SEARCHING FOR YEARS ☹️☹️☹️☹️ 🌿 ⇢ give some advice on writer's block and low creativity 🙂 KILL YO- ahem. Just don’t write. Simple as. you have high expectations but that gets you nowhere, allow yourself to relax.

🥐 ⇢ name one internet reference that will always make you laugh. I guess we doing —— now.

🏜️ ⇢ what's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work? A psychoanalysis of how I wrote it.

🍦 ⇢ name three good things about a character you hate. Idk man. No one comes to mind.

🥝 ⇢ do you lie a lot? what's the most recent lie you told? That I would kms, but in reality it’s just the only way to express the depth that I am pained by in a way that properly reflects other people’s kindness idfk

🦋 ⇢ share something that has been on your heart and mind lately. Fuck oh duck oh fuxk oh duxk oh fuck!!!! Uh umh hnh uhhhhhm I really wanna experience more mortal pains, both psychological and also temperature wise and also blood.

🦴 ⇢ is there a piece of media that inspires your writing?  SHERLOCK HOLMEs, ILY ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE!!!!!

🍅 ⇢ give yourself some constructive criticism on your own writing. Fuckkk uhhh.. I’m perfect ! Okay but maybe take into consideration how much I ACTUSLLY stay on topic, which is nice for stories if I stray but in reality a bit annoying to read.

🐚 ⇢ do you like or dislike surprises? Depends on the execution.

🪲 ⇢ add 50 words to your current wip and share the paragraph here. later

☁️ ⇢ what made you choose your username? well my ao3 I went by something like LifeNdeath “life and death” and then changed to LifeNreality and now I just have a habit of making usernames start with LifeN and just whatever the site is for, so here, I am a concept :)

🐝 ⇢ tag your biggest supporter(s) and say one nice thing about them. Fuckkk idk man uhhhhh @primalshane best creature on earth that I deeply care about and wish for goodness to seek them out yipppeee.

🌸 ⇢ do you have any pets? if you do, post some pictures of them. I do!

I love to bully him

🎨 ⇢ link your favourite piece of fanart and explain why you like it. Too many answers for this so I got no answer for this.

🧩 ⇢ what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately? Any sort of kink or fetish although I’ll turn a blind eye if it’s blood/knives/sadism/masochism.

Writers Truth & Dare Ask Game

🎱 ⇢ post your AO3 total stats  🍓 ⇢ how did you get into writing fanfiction?  🌵 ⇢ share the link to a playlist you love 🕯️ ⇢ on a scale from 1 to 10, how much do you enjoy editing? why is that? 🛼 ⇢ describe your latest wip with five emojis 🥑 ⇢ you accidentally killed somebody, which mutual(s) do you text for help? 🥤 ⇢ recommend an author or fanfic you love 💌 ⇢ how many unread emails do you have right now?  🌻 ⇢ tag someone you appreciate but don't talk to on a regular basis 🐇 ⇢ do you prefer writing original characters, reader inserts, or a mix of both?  🧃 ⇢ share some personal lore you never posted about before 🎲 ⇢ what stops you from writing more in your free time?  🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings 🧸 ⇢ what's the fastest way to become your mutual? 🪐 ⇢ name three good things going on in your life right now 📚 ⇢ what's the last thing you wrote down in your notes app?  🍬 ⇢ post an unpopular opinion about a popular fandom character 🔪 ⇢ what's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project? 🦷 ⇢ share some personal wisdom or a life hack you swear on ❄️ ⇢ what's your dream theme/plot for a fic, and who would write it best? 🌿 ⇢ give some advice on writer's block and low creativity 🥐 ⇢ name one internet reference that will always make you laugh  🏜️ ⇢ what's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work? 🍦 ⇢ name three good things about a character you hate 🥝 ⇢ do you lie a lot? what's the most recent lie you told? 🦋 ⇢ share something that has been on your heart and mind lately  🦴 ⇢ is there a piece of media that inspires your writing?  🍅 ⇢ give yourself some constructive criticism on your own writing 🐚 ⇢ do you like or dislike surprises? 🪲 ⇢ add 50 words to your current wip and share the paragraph here ☁️ ⇢ what made you choose your username? 🐝 ⇢ tag your biggest supporter(s) and say one nice thing about them 🌸 ⇢ do you have any pets? if you do, post some pictures of them 🎨 ⇢ link your favourite piece of fanart and explain why you like it 🧩 ⇢ what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately?

[mid0khan]

AO3 Wrapped (author's edition!)

I'm very late (again) for this, but I've been tagged by the lovely @samsalami66 so here I am! Darling if you think your wrap looks sad mine is going to hurt x)

Anyway, let's get on shall we

in chronological order, the fics I posted this year:

Let's erase the old tales and write our own happy end (The Sandman - Hob/Dream)

Just a weekend (The Sandman - Hob/Dream)

Farewell, my lovely (The Sandman - (Hob/Dream)

Dancing in the sky (drawing- The Sandman - Hob/Dream)

The best weighted blanket in the world (The Sandman - Hob/Dream)

I'll follow thee and make a Heaven of Hell (The Sandman - Hob/Dream)

Basic survival tip: don't shoot the eldritch entity's lover (short comics - The Sandman - Hob/Dream)

The first day of the rest of their lives (The Sandman - Hob/Dream)

The pirate and the plushie (The Sandman - Gen)

Our hopes and expectations (Black holes and revolutions) (WIP - The Sandman - Hob/Dream)

Yeaaaaaah the hyperfixation is a little bit obvious isn't it ? x)

stats

Works published: 10 (29 total)

Works subscriptions: 95

Kudos: 424

Comment threads: 67

Bookmarks: 124

Hits: 4,224

Word count: 44,633

Hey that's honeslty not bad! Spread accross the whole year I didn't realize I had achieved that much! (Though to be honest, half the hits and three quarters of the word count are Hopes and Expectations alone)

Top 3 fic (of all years) by kudos:

Our hopes and expectations (Black holes and revolutions) (WIP - The Sandman - Hob/Dream)

A simple little draugh (BBC Sherlock/Harry Potter - Sherlock/John)

Don't be late (BBC Sherlock/Sherlock Holmes and related fandoms/Good Omens/Doctor Who - Sherlock/John, Aziraphale/Crowley)

This is very funny because my two top fics according to kudos are literally my very last fic (Hopes and expectations) and my very first (A simple little draugh, my own translation from french to english of my first fic)!

Top 3 fics (of all years) by word count:

Our hopes and expectations (Black holes and revolutions) (WIP - The Sandman - Hob/Dream) - 32,093 words

Un simple courant d'air (BBC Sherlock/Harry Potter- Sherlock/John) - 3,895 words

Let's erase the old tales and write our own happy end (The Sandman - Hob/Dream) - 3,721 words

With no surprise, Hopes and Expectations is first by very far; this fic is my biggest project so far and I'm very proud of what I have already done for it, and I can't wait to do more ! (When chapter 13 stops actively fighting me with every word ><')

Also second is the french version of Just a little draugh! It stayed my longest fic for a looooong time (I wrote it in 2020), and it's also my one and only fic in the HP fandom (for now; the Sandmerlin fic will change that eventually, even though I'm not the one writting the Harry Potter part of the crossover)

Top 3 ships of 2024:

1- Dreamling (Hob/Dream)

That's it. I've literally written only about them the whole year XD

Top 5 tags of 2024:

1- Hurt/Comfort (2 works)

2- Panic Attacks (2 works)

3- Hob Gadling Needs a Hug (2 works)

4- Hob Gadling Loves Dream of the Endless | Morpheus (2 works)

5- Angst (1 work)

And here you have the proof that I don't know how to tag properly x)

Since I'm already very late with this one, I'm not going to tag anyone directly, since chances are most people have been tagged already and I'm (as usual) too lazy to check. So I'm just gonna say: if you haven't been tagged and want to play, I'm tagging you!

[fairysbookshelf]

The Christmas List By Maren Moore

Book Stats:

Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐(4/5)

Spice Rating:🌶️🌶️🌶️(2.75/5)

Tropes: Small Town, Second-Chance, Cowboy Romance, Single Dad

Publisher: Indie?(I can't tell, from research)

Review:

*Thank you so much to Valentines PR and the author for sending me a copy of this book for free in exchange for a honest review, it really means a lot that you trust little old me!*

It's a joke that is often said that people ruin their TBR's for holiday books and novella's and all I have to say to that is The Christmas List by Maren Moore is packed full of holiday vibes with plenty of cute, cozy moments to go around.

Josie and Wyatt are the couple that got away. Wyatt decided his future was more important and left Strawberry Hollow to play football at college, while Josie stayed. Now 10 years later, Wyatt is back to help run the ranch, just with a daughter in tow, who happens to be in Josie's kindergarten class this year. As the queen of Christmas herself, Josie can't deny Lucy, Wyatt's daughter when she askes her if she could be part of their team for the Christmas List competition, she can't say no.

The vibes this book has are perfect if your looking for a cute, quick Christmas book. It's got all the small town hallmark vibes you could want. The Christmas list is a cute idea just in general. I think it was a great plot device as well. Like, come on, how wouldn't want to dress up all Christmassy and complete Christmas themed tasks? Sign me up! The small town vibes are also hitting perfectly and are really well written.

I really love the characters in this book. Lucy is the cutest daughter ever. Josie also had a lot of character growth which I liked. Wyatt is a good MMC, and is a good dad overall.

The romance is okay. I needed more tension and angst personally, but it was still decent. It's a novella so I understand. The Smut is decent as well, so if your looking for that to help feed your holiday vibes, this might be the book for you.

I only have two minor-ish things that I would change. First, I feel like the book didn't have enough intro to it. It was immediately jump into the plot. Which, it's also a novella, so I understand, but it was a little hard to understand what was fully going on, until I got a couple of chapter in, which normally doesn't happen in romance novels. *Editing Fairy here, I realize that this isn't the first book in the series, it's book 3, so there is more to Strawberry Hollow if you want it! probably a reason why there is less world-building. That being said, I still think a recap of the first two books or more story build up would have been nice * Second, the pacing was kind of all over the place personally for my taste. But then again, it's also a novella so I understand. You have 200ish pages and a lot of plot, romance and storytelling to do, and not a lot of time to do it.

If your looking for a cute Christmas read, pick this one up!! It's short, not to long of a commitment, and the vibes are really great.

[putawayurhalo]

Out For Blood | Chapter 9: Pitch Black

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Munson!Reader ; Eddie Munson x Fem!Henderson!O.C.

Warnings: Strong language, season 4 vol. 1 (NONE FOR VOL. 2 YET) spoilers, angst, some fluff you don’t have to squint for this one though

Word Count: 2k

Author’s Note: So... I’m really excited to write the next chapter but we gotta get through some other details before hand so enjoy! Also reminder I really don’t hate Nancy just need some tension for plot sake besties. P.S. I try to edit these chapters but my brain truly will add words in when they’re not there so don’t mind the slight mistakes here or there, I’m sick of them as well though.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

< Previous | Next >

“Do you want to talk about it?” Steve asked her as he pulled into the school parking lot.

“What is there to talk about?” She asked him as he parked the car.

“What Ms. Kelley said back there?” He turned around to look at her. (Y/N) sighed, before looking at both Dustin and Max.

“Can we talk about this later?” (Y/N) looked at him, a slight frown on her face and a pleading look in her eyes.

“Yeah.” He shook his head slightly, “Yeah, sure.”

The group got out of the car and started running toward the school; the older duo opened the doors for the younger duo before running after them. (Y/N) tripped over her own foot and started to fall forward, Steve reached forward and caught her by her waist, “You okay?”

“Yeah…” She was trying to catch her breath and looked up at Steve, “Thank you.” Steve helped her stand up straight but still kept his hands on her waist.

“Come on lovebirds, we don’t have all night!” Max shouted at them, Steve hands dropped from her waist and they caught up to the kids.

“Dustin do you copy?” Robin’s voice came through the walkie talkie.

“Yeah, I copy.” Dustin replied.

“So, Nancy's a beautiful, gorgeous genius,” (Y/N) scrunched up her nose at Robin’s description, Max nudged her as they continued walking, “Vecna’s first victims date back all the way to 1959, her shot in the dark was a bull’s-eye.”

“What shot in the dark?” (Y/N) asked them but no one responded.

“Okay that’s totally bonkers, but I can’t really talk right now.” Dustin shouted.

“Wait, what are you doing?” Robin questioned him.

“Breaking and entering into school to retrieve confidential and extremely personal files.” Max bent down to unlock the door, Steve shining the flashlight on the doorknob for her.

“Can you repeat that?”

“Just get your ass over here stat! We’ll explain everything.” Dustin shouted again before placing the walkie back in his bag.

“What was the shot in the dark?” (Y/N) asked Steve as she watched Max unlock the door.

“While you were in the trailer, getting your stuff, Nancy was telling us something that your uncle said to her.” Steve started.

“She talked to Wayne? Why?” She furrowed her eyebrows.

“She was interviewing him about Chrissy’s death and he brought up how he doesn’t think Eddie did it.”

“Because he didn’t.” She interrupted Steve, looking over at him, “Sorry, continue.”

“He said he thought Victor Creel did it, went into a whole spiel about it… The way she described it, it reminded me of how you can ramble for hours about those little Teddy Bears from Star Wars.” Steve chuckled as he spoke.

“Ewoks, Steve. They’re called Ewoks and besides Wickett is the be-”

“Okay you two enough!” Max tells them, as she gets the door unlocked. The duo looked away from each other and followed the kids into the room.

“It’s like a mini-watergate or something… Hawkinsgate.” Dustin shined his flashlight around the room.

“Didn’t those guys get caught?” Steve asked him. (Y/N) rolled her eyes and walked over to the file cabinet where Max stood.

“Holy shit.” Max spoke as she pulled out two files.

“You found it?” Steve asked Max.

“Yeah, and not just Chrissy’s file. Fred was seeing Ms. Kelley too.” Max spoke as she passed Fred’s file to Steve and sat down with Chrissy’s in front of her. She opened the file and began reading it, past trauma, terrible nightmares, difficulty sleeping, headaches. “Can I see Fred’s file?” She spoke, eyes still trailing over the words in Chrissy’s.

“Sure.” Steve passed her the file, Max immediately opened it, suffering from panic attacks, severe headaches, constant nosebleeds. She gasped slightly as she read it.

“Max, what is it?” (Y/N) asked her. Max looked down at the file, seemingly not moving.

“Max! Max!” Dustin shook her shoulders. (Y/N) looked down at the files.

“Max, come on.” Dustin continued to shake his friend, (Y/N) nudged Steve nodding towards the files. He began to read it, he looked up at (Y/N) again opening his mouth to ask her a question but she was distracted.

“Max?” (Y/N) asked and gently touched her shoulder, Max let out a startled gasp. “Max are you okay?”

“We’re here! We’re here!” Robin shouted as she and Nancy ran into the room, “What happened?”

Max ran out of the room and the group followed her

“It was here, right here.” Max shined the flashlight at the wall, “There was a grandfather clock right here.”

“A grandfather clock?” Nancy asked her.

“It was so real and then I got closer, suddenly I just… I heard (Y/N) say my name and I woke up.”

“It was like she was in a trance or something exactly what Eddie said happened to Chrissy.” Dustin spoke to Nancy and Robin as (Y/N) comforted Max, Steve had been watching (Y/N) closely since he read the files, he wasn’t sure if she had noticed that the symptoms had also lined up with her. 

“That’s not even the bad part…” Max spoke, catching the attention of everyone in the room.

“Fred and Chrissy, they both came to Miss Kelley for help. Uh, they both were having headaches, bad headaches that wouldn’t go away. And then… then the nightmares, trouble sleeping, they’d wake up in a cold sweat and then they started seeing things… bad things from their past and these visions they just… they kept on getting worse and worse until eventually everything ended.” Max’s eyes kept darting around the room as she spoke. 

“Vecna’s curse.” Robin whispered.

“Chrissy’s headache started a week ago, Fred’s, six days ago, I’ve been having them for five days.” (Y/N)’s eyes widened as Max spoke, “I don’t know how long I have, all I know is that, for Fred and Chrissy, they both died less than 24 hours after their first vision and I just saw that goddamn clock, so… looks like I’m gonna die tomorrow.” (Y/N) lightly touched Max’s arm before they all heard a distant clank. 

“Stay here.” Steve told them as he started to walk out of the room, he paused for a minute and grabbed a lamp from the corner, “I mean it. Stay here.” He was speaking to everyone but he looked directly at (Y/N). More clanks and footsteps were heard as Steve walked around the room, the entire group not listening to a word Steve had said as they followed him out, Max clung to (Y/N)’s side as the two stood behind everyone else, Steve held the lamp like a bat as the footsteps got closer, the person making the noise rounding the corner and they all screamed.

“It’s me!” The person shouted, holding their hands up.

“Lucas?” (Y/N) asked, stepping forward slightly.

“It’s me.” He replied out of breath.

“Jesus, what’s wrong with you, Sinclair?” Steve questioned him, setting the lamp down.

“I’m sorry.” Lucas was trying to catch his breath.

“I could’ve taken you out with this lamp!”

“Sorry, guys. Sorry. I was… I was biking for eight miles. Give me a second. Shit. We’ve got a code red.” 

“What?” Dustin asked him.

“Dustin. I’ve been with Jason, Patrick, and Andy, and they’ve gone totally off the rails. They’re trying to capture Eddie, and they think you know where he is. You’re in terrible danger.” Lucas told him before turning towards (Y/N), “You too, (Y/N)... you don’t want to know the things they said about you.” 

(Y/N) grumbled under her breath as Lucas spoke, only Max hearing her words.

“All right. Yeah, that definitely sucks, but we’ve got bigger problems than Jason right now.” Dustin pointed towards Max who only looked at Lucas scared.

“I’ll be right there.” Steve tells the group as they walk out of the office. 

“Okay, so we’re going to the Wheelers’ right?” Lucas asked.

“Yes, it’s safer there than being here in case Jason and his goons followed you here and tried to attack Dustin.” (Y/N) replied.

“But what about you (Y/N)? Are you not afraid they’re after you?” Robin asked her as she looked over her shoulder, walking side by side with Nancy. 

“I can hold my own, Robin.” (Y/N) lied through her teeth, “Besides, you really think these kids would let anything happen to me.” She nodded towards Max who walked next to her and then towards Dustin and Lucas.

“No, I know they won’t… but are they the only ones?” Robin asked her a smirk that the girl couldn’t see on her face.

“Aren’t the only ones who won’t what?” Steve asked as he caught up with them sliding a folded piece of paper into his back pocket.

“Oh, nothing.” (Y/N) smiled at Steve before continuing to walk with Max out of the school.

“Hey, (Y/N/N),” Max grabbed her arm as they all exited the school, “Dustin, Lucas and I are going to ride with Nancy, is that okay?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be okay?” She asked Max as she watched Dustin and Lucas walk towards Nancy’s car. Max looked at her and then at Steve, then back at her. She sighed, “I’ll be fine. I promise.” 

“Okay.” Max turned to walk away before she turned back around, “Hey, um, you would tell one of us if you started to have visions right? Because a lot of the symptoms Chrissy and Fred had… I have them and I’m pretty sure you have them too.”

“Max… I haven’t had any but if I do, you’d be the first person I’d tell. Scout’s honor.” 

“You were never a girl scout.” Max replied as she started walking towards Nancy’s car.

“You don’t know that.” (Y/N) told her because she laughed and walked towards Steve’s car.

“What was that about?” Steve asked her as she got into his car.

“With Max?” Steve nodded, “She’s just scared and I might be the closest person in her life as of recently.” (Y/N) responded as she buckled up, “Can we put on that mixtape?”

“Of course.” Steve smiled at her as she pulled it out of her bag and passed it to him. The two sat bobbing their heads to the music for a few minutes before Steve opened his mouth, “Do you want to talk about what Ms. Kelley said to you? You seemed upset when you got in the car earlier.” 

(Y/N) sighed and looked at him, “I had to get Max out of there, I told her that if Ms. Kelley asked anything that made her uncomfortable to tap her foot three times… she asked about Billy. So I did what I had to do to get her out of there.” She started fiddling with the skin around her finger nails, Steve took notice and reached his arm across the center console grabbing her hand and holding it, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles, “I fell into one of her traps of talking about my trauma when I really don’t want to.”

Steve thought for a second before trying to distract her, “You know, when you guys came into Family Video a selfish part of me wanted to not believe you when you guys said Eddie hadn’t done it,” Steve looked at her as she frowned at his words, “I wanted to keep protecting you from feeling the way I do every year or so when this shit happens again. It’s like… rock bottom’s grinning at us as it’s creeping up and it makes me wish I was dead again.”

“Again?” 

“Figure of speech or whatever you call it. Anyways, when Eddie told us what happened with Chrissy all I could think was ‘oh my God it’s all happening again’. I made myself a promise that I wouldn’t go back, not after last year, not after having to lie to you about what happened with Roxanne, but here I am and I’m being pulled right back in and it stops at nothing to completely crush me.” Steve looked back at the road, avoiding eye contact with her.

“Steve… listen, if you had told me last July I probably wouldn’t have believed you anyways, but now… now I sit here and yes it all seems impossible and out of reach like one of those shitty sci-fi movies Jenny would force us to watch during movie night, and if I’m honest this all feels like it was never meant for me to find out about… I’m not mad at you for not telling me about it, not anymore at least.” (Y/N) spoke as she turned her hand over to hold Steve’s. 

Steve parked his car in front of the Wheeler house, Nancy, Robin and the kids still in Nancy’s car. “Steve, it’s nice to feel like you’re still my closest friend, even if about twenty four hours ago we were past the point to make amends. If you ask me, rock bottom came and went for us plus hey, at least I have someone to help me navigate through the pitch black.” She smiled at him as she let go of his hand and unbuckled her seat belt, “Last one in owes the other breakfast in the morning.” She jumped out of the car. 

Steve smiled as he watched her sprint towards the door almost knocking Dustin over and tripping over her own two feet, “I’m good!” She shouted from the ground, sticking her arm up in the air, holding her thumb up as the kids walked toward her and helped her up. Steve’s smile flattened as he pulled the paper out from his pocket, unfolding it.

‘Constant nosebleeds, nightmares almost every night, lack of sleep, severe headaches’ He read over the words over and over again. Oh my God, it’s all happening again, a knock on his window startled him.

“You coming Harrington?” Robin asked him, before looking at the paper he was holding in his hand, her eyes widening. 

But now my mistakes are paying dividends.

Tags still open: @preciousbabypeter​ @honeymunson​ @willgrahampills​ @secretsicanthideanymore​ @tanyaherondale​ @lettyshush​ @kayt-marie​ @live-the-fangirl-life​ @burn1ngw00d​ @alainabooks143​ @kamala-khann​ @dessmxsworld​