#i didnt edit as much so pls forgive any mistakes

[chocolatemillkk]

Bathroom Floor (JS)

A/N: an old request of a tired Strictly Joe mixed with something from my own head. Also why does it feel weird to now write things based on him...

It was one of those weeks that felt like a Thursday on a Monday and now that it was actually Thursday, Joe was knackered. Practice had run late again and it was past one in the morning by the time his key turned in the lock and he dropped his bag by the front door. He wondered whether his girlfriend was home but her worn in slip-ons near his own shoes answer his question.

Skipping a snack of any sort, Joe grabs a bottle of water and quietly makes his way upstairs to run a bath. His body wanted to skip the bath, crying out for sleep instead, but he’d already made that mistake in week 2 and he wasn’t about to wake up incredibly sore tomorrow.

As Joe moves to his closet, he eyes your sleeping figure; you’re curled up on your side and the duvet has slipped off half of your body revealing your odd position. Joe bites back a laugh, knowing how often you kicked the blankets off in your sleep-there were a few times he’d woken up to a kick in the stomach from a sleeping Y/N.

As quietly as possible, Joe passes by the bed and stops for a second just to see his girlfriend’s face. It had been two whole days of not seeing each other after a whole year and a half of going out. You were nearing the end of your residency and your random schedules made it hard to see each other but throw in his late nights practicing and it meant no quality time together.

Joe reaches out to brush back a strand of your h/c hair. She was so beautiful, he thought before slipping out of the room.

The bath is almost full by the time Joe gets to it so he strips off and eases into the warmth of the tub.

•••

You're not quite awake when you hear the floorboard near the door that was known for creaking. You blamed it on that one time an angry Caspar tackled Joe to the floor there after a prank gone wrong.

Was it morning already, you wonder. You were still so tired after a full eighteen hour shift at the hospital; you wanted more sleep.

But Joe must be in bed.

This thought gets you to crack your eye and turn to Joe's side of the bed but it's empty-never been slept in. You bolt upright and reach for your phone immediately thinking of the worst scenarios but your alarm illuminates the time before you get to it: 1:54am-you had only been sleeping a couple hours. Joe's side was perfectly done because he hadn't gone to bed in the first place.

You lay your head back down and close your eyes, sighing as your beating heart goes back to normal. This week was way too long-longer because you'd barely seen Joe. And you were so very tired. You missed evenings with Joe but you were so proud of how far he'd come with dancing-you didn’t mind the weird schedule if it came with the price of Joe’s happiness.

A low humming catches your attenion as you begin to relax and you open your eyes again, turning your head to notice the faint warm light on the floorboards. And now that you were conscious of it-it did smell like vanilla. Joe must be home in the bath.

This thought alone convinces your tired body out of the comfortable bed it lay in to get a glimpse of your boyfriend. But not before you wrapped yourself in a furry blanket and slipped on your house slippers.

The door to the bath is ajar and Joe doesn't notice as you silently push it the rest of the way open but he catches your reflection in the mirror as you walk in and jerks his head your way.

"Shit you scared me," he chuckles when he sees it’s just a tired-looking Y/N.

"Sorry," you say softly. You shuffle to the tub and Joe reaches for your hand that dangles at your side.

"Did I wake you?" He asks, concerned that he'd potentially interrupted your sleep.

"Nah," you fold your knees and sit cross-legged on the floor beside the tub. The tiles were cold so you wrap your blanket tighter around you. "I just wanted to see your face."

Joe dips his hands into the bath’s foamy bubbles and creates a white beard for himself. "Here it is."

"Christmas is still a month away Santa Claus," you laugh at his silliness. Even with the tired bags under both your eyes, there was still time for play.

You swipe some of the bubbles off and blow them back into his face. He grabs your hand once it's empty and kisses your knuckles.

"I've missed you too." He kisses your hand again and you feel fluttering in your stomach as he smiles at you. Joe had a way of looking at you so tenderly, like you were a fragile thing he coveted and it always made you as nervous as the first time you saw him. The truth, however, was the complete opposite. You-your love for each other...you two were made of strong stuff. No matter how complicated your hours got as you chased your dreams and Joe chased his, you two were always with each other. Nothing fragile or breakable about that.

"How was practice?" You cover your yawn with the blanket. "How're you getting on?"

"We nearly nailed it! Just a bit more practicing," Joe comes alive as he talks about practice. "Can't tell you specific bits though-I can't wait for you to see it all on Saturday."

"Me too," you squeeze Joe's hand. “I’m oddly nervous.” You'd finally managed to get the Saturday evening off and you were going to watch Joe live for the first time since he started. Joe normally sent you clips of practice to watch during the week to catch you up on what he was up to but this week he refused to show you anything so as not to spoil the final performance. "But mostly I’m excited to see you in all your dancing glory up on the stage! Finally get to celebrate with you on time."

"Well we celebrate only if we make it to the next round." Joe says and the way his eyebrows scrunchle you can tell it was stressing him out.

"You're definitely making it," you trace out his brows to smooth the worry out. Tracing your finger down his nose you say, "You work way too hard not to make it-"

"So does everybody el-"

"Hey," you cut him off. "Don't doubt it."

You lean forward and kiss him, not realising how you missed even the solidness of Joe. And even though your hair gets wet as he tangles his soapy fingers into it and the corner of the blanket soaks into the tub, you hold the embrace for as long as you can.

"I'm so proud of you," you whisper as your forehead rests against his. "You've accomplished so much and I'm so proud."

"And I'm really proud of you," Joe deflects the praise humbly. "You've only got two more weeks of insane hours!"

"Just take the bloody praise without flipping it back on me will you?" You smile before pecking his lips.

"Touché," Joe flicks bubbles onto your nose.

You laugh and push him away, sitting back down on the floor but he grabs your hand and holds it to his slick chest. His thumb strokes the ridges of your knuckles and you settle against the side of the porcelain tub, your head laying on the edge. The two of you stay silent as you gaze at each other in the dim lighting, your arms running the length of the space between you two as you hold onto each other, both marvelling at how you got so lucky without saying a single thing. The dim lighting adds to the ambience of the night, the scented candles warming the room, and the gentle music playing from the speakers does the trick-lulling your eyelids closed.

Joe watches as you fight the sleep and slowly give in to it, your head resting against the side of the tub and the blanket wrapped tightly around you. He knew you'd just had a long shift and how normal it was for you to fall asleep right about anywhere-but this was new.

Joe stealthily reaches for his phone with his other hand and takes a picture for his collection of Y/N-sleeping-in-random-places. So far, there were over fourty photos.

Finally relaxing his own shoulders, Joe closes his eyes and allows his muscles to soak into the warmth of the water-minus the one hand still holding onto yours. He smiles to himself at what the two must look like. But he knows he would take any moments with you in your hectic lives, even if it was the simple act of holding hands just to feel close to each other. Even if that meant one of you sat on the bathroom floor while the other was submerged in water.

When the bath water eventually turns lukewarm, Joe sits up and moves your hand to your lap. He steps around you carefully to finish his nighttime routine. After tying his robe, he kneels to where you still slump, surprisingly in deep sleep.

"Y/N love," Joe tucks your hair behind your ear. You don't even budge so Joe shakes your shoulder. You mumbles something that sounds like go away and he can't help but laugh.

"You know I could put your hand in the water and then go away and you'd probably pee your pants," Joe tells you as he gets one arm under your knees instead and lifts you.

"Piss off," you mumble against his chest.

"Now you're awake," Joe shakes his head as he carries you to bed. "You just pulled the oldest trick in the book on me.”

You’re too tired to respond but a small smile tugs at your lips. It's mischievous and childlike, Joe observes. God, he loved this woman.

"Should've left you on the floor," Joe continues as he places you gently into bed and pulls the covers over your body. He settles in next to you, pulling you closer to his body because he'd missed the feeling. The way your solidness grounded him.

"I love you," Joe whispers into your ear, 3 words he never tired of telling you. You hum back, too tired to say the actual words-but hoping he understood it was tired talk for I love you too. With the way he tightens his grip around your waist, however, you were certain he understood it perfectly.

[3rachad-archive]

i hope this doesn't come off as rude ndksnsls but ive seen that you've remade a few times, is everything okay?

omg not rude at all!!! 

mm, i think in total- this is my 4th time remaking? so you’re right! it’s definitely been a few times now um :( i know it can be annoying- and i apologize to those ppl who feel like they HAVE to follow me or feel burdensome when i do this fjfdfkslfksf mm i’ll explain the whole thing under a cut (which doesn’t really work on mobile but jfjfkafejoew) bc i think it might get. long.

edit: ok so i didnt proofread bc its like 11 pm and im tired and ; __ ; pls forgive any spelling or grammar mistakes- i think the gist of what i’m saying comes through… 

mm, the first few times i remade were for the sake of organization? like from my VERY first (kpop) blog to the second one, i remade bc i felt that i was stanning too many groups and it was just super multifandom and super messy and it made me anxious having all of that there in a clutter

the second time i remade it was cause i felt that blog was lacking and i wasn’t really contributing to anything and i was trying to get rid of some toxic mutuals :// 

um the third time………. i think i just again: needed a fresh start bc i had a bunch of mutuals that made me uncomfortable and i didn’t want anyone to find me necessarily so i gfkjgsojgsoeser just ghosted my account n remade bc i needed it for my anxiety :( n i lost a lot of old mutuals on purpose 

um then this remake!!! hnnhfnjgfgf ok :( theres been a lot going on personally… hnngngiwoe its kinda split into two reasons: 

1) the lesser reason: i dropped out of a uni at the end of my first year and then went to apply to a new one and its been fucking hell like every where i turn smth else goes wrong. i’ll solve one problem and thensmth else happens. its so stressful and disgusting how much crap i’ve emotionally been through… and that blog pretty much chronicles ALL of those 2 months of panic and depression and such bad thoughts about myself and i just need to get AWAY from it 

2) the more pressing reason: its really quite frustrating and i think i’ve explained it before- but ive just found that nctzens have become a little too much for me. just everything about that fandom makes me so incredibly stressed and anxious and i’m not happy coming onto tumblr- and that’s not the point?? like tumblr is supposed to be fun and you’re supposed to be able to make stuff and enjoy yourself??? like… it shouldn’t fucking feel like a job or some kind of commitment. but nctzens have kinda just turned everything into a competition and they make everything abt popularity and followers and they act so mean to each other and their biases and say stuff that i find kinda :// and to just top it all off i just find that more and more of them are using their “platform” and “audience” (for lack of better wording) to start witch hunts… like they’ll “call out” users and say things that are just fucking disgusting and when theyre followers go and attack that user they dont take ANY credibility or think that it could’ve been their actions. they act so innocent and it just… it just frustrates me. 

its in my dfi/byf- but like if you’re not willing to discuss something with me when we get into an argument/disagree upon something, i dont think you should be following me. i find it incredibly childish for ppl to go and “”shade”” someone on their blog and talk shit about that person to their mutuals and make all of these ppl hate someone. its so senseless… i’ve never understood bringing personal drama up with ppl who have nothing to do with it… 

i also find that nctzens don’t understand the concept of “opinions” ??? like they act as if smth someone says is like. law. and they don’t think for 0.5 seconds before they go attacking ppl for saying “i think this song isn’t that good”… like, opinions aren’t right or wrong… theyre just opinions… some opinions can be ill informed or kinda universally s t u p i d - but there’s no such thing as a wrong opinion because …. inherently… opinions are just… beliefs we make upon information we have……….. ???? 

idk :( its just become too much for me to handle- when i started posting a little bit more of stray kids- which were one of my ults for a while- i got hate telling me i was a fake nctzen and that i would have my nctzen card revoked… like i’ve never taken that stuff seriously- but it fucking SUCKS to constantly be told youre not a “good enough fan” like… dood.. there is no such thing… kpoppies have invented this kinda ride or die culture where they lay down their lives for their favs and like i g e t i t - but like… lmao… ppl have lives they have things to do?? this is why streaming and voting and all of that stuff gets so frustrating and anxiety raising- because we’re made to feel like we HAVE to do it or we’re a bad fan?? like nahhhh that doesn’t fucking matter !! i get it goes towards their achievements and etc but also like put your fucking life first man… do those other things when you have TIME and ENERGY

all of this was ruining nct for me and i didnt need that negativity :( i love nct and i love johnny but i just need space :( the same thing happened to me when i liked bts so… i just dont want it to make me sad when i see them… you know? 

anyway- i’m sorry this got so fucking long and i’m just ranting at this point abt smth that probably you weren’t looking for but… like

tldr: everything was not okay, everything is very carefully balanced on a precarious edge !! mentally i just need to be in a place i can CONSIDER my safe place. i’m doing alright mostly, just anxious a little bit… and jfwifiawioefawe you probably weren’t looking for this dumb ass essay…. but…… yeah………. im sorry- and honestly? thank you for asking… idk :( its sweet 

[jamesniall]

Hey I’m not the anon that u talked about but I follow u on twitter and wanna let u know that don’t worry!!!! That happened to me a few days ago too djdnxjsn. Are you posting today?

ahhh HI OMG thank u for understanding :’)

IT WAS SO FRUSTRATING bc i got it all written but there’s lil things to edit and words to change a bit but it was basically done and then the power went out and refused to come back for 7 hours :/

as soon as it came back i got to it but im sleeeeepy and i have a family thing tomorrow morning (basically today wow it’s 4 am) so i can’t post it until the afternoon :( BUT YES TODAY IT’LL BE POSTED FINALLY. NOTHING WILL STOP ME FROM POSTING IT TODAY.

if u want, and for the other super patient and lovely anon as well, here’s a lil preview of it; the first out of the 5 + 1 things of this fic!

(as i said, it still needs to be proof read again so if u find mistakes pls pretend u didnt, im gonna get to them tomorrow sdkfhds but yeah there u have 1,5k of this monster of a fic that took over 2 months of my life lmao what started as a lil hurt/comfort fic ended up in a 18k monster of developing relationship hurt/comfort and angst with a cHEESY ending wow)

Having the night shift at the E.R onFriday nights it’s always a chore. Harry always tries his best to change itwith one of his colleagues, even if he has to take Monday’s morning shift whereeveryone comes with the silliest symptoms to get some excuse to get out oftheir jobs for a couple days.

This time, however, Liam has a familything he can’t get out of and Harry has to cover the night shift.

It goes as he expected it.

Drunk college students with alcoholpoisoning are the most common gig of the night, followed by guys withconcussions and broken noses that can only be attributed to bar fights.

It’s around 10 pm when he’s making a roundthrough the new arrivals when he sees a guy sitting in the waiting room withwhat seems to be a scarf wrapped around his left arm and a guitar tightlyclutched in his right hand.

He looks downright miserable. Soaked tothe bone – though Harry doesn’t recall it raining when he started his shift –hair plastered to his forehead and a bruise in his right cheek that he can tellit’s gonna swell and hurt as fuck tomorrow morning.

He takes a look around the room andfigures he’s the most interesting case he can get out of the night.

“Hello there, I’m Doctor Styles. Did thenurse give you the triage paper?” He asks, looking down at the brown hairedguy, who startles at his voice.

“Oh, hi, yes, uh,” he searches around hispockets for a bit, hissing when he disturbs his homemade bandage, Harry doesn’tknow if he’s hiding a broken, burnt or cut arm, but he’s sure the scarf it’snot wrapped up properly for none of those situations.

He finally finds a yellow crumbled uppaper in the pocket of his jeans, “thought the red papers got attention first.”He says, looking up to Harry and handing him the paper.

“Yeah, Friday nights are usually full ofyellow ones, though.” Harry says, scanning the paper quickly and seeing Niall J. Horan, 25 year old male, reportedbar fight, probable broken wrist, no signs of concussion, vitals on order, pain8/10. “How’s your pain right now?”

“Out of ten? It’s been simmering between 8and 9 for the last hour,” Niall replies with a shrug. “Nurse told me x-rayswere necessary but that I’d have to leave my guitar outside,” he continues, “Irefused, because have you seen the people around this place? They’re all drunk.No way I’m leaving it out here only to find it broken, so if you can tell mewhat to do or what to take for the pain I’d appreciate it so I can go home.”

“You could have a broken wrist, judging bythe pain I’m pretty sure that’s the case, isn’t getting the x-ray moreimportant than a guitar?” Harry asks, an amused smile making his way through asNiall splutters and shakes his head.

“’Course it’s more important, she’s one ofa kind. Actually my arm might be broken because I fell out of the stage toprotect her.” He states. A stubborn frown taking over his face.

“Alright,” Harry nods, “You can leave itin my office while we do x-rays and get you proper treatment. That way both ofyou will be safe.”

“Really?” Niall asks, “Hey, thank youmate! I hope it’s not a bother.”

“None at all, just follow me and we’ll getit done quick enough.”

-

Half an hour later Niall’s sitting in astretcher as Harry wraps up his broken wrist properly. His guitar restingbeside him. “I cannot help but ask, what did you mean you fell out of a stageto save your guitar?”

“Oh,” he laughs, “well, you see, I play inthis bar on Friday nights, to help a bit with the bills, you know? Being ajust-graduated-nutritionist doesn’t give you much, so I was there, justchilling, getting ready to finish the set, when a bunch of assholes startedfighting, throwing punches and chairs and tables went flying. My guitar was inthe direct line of fire.” He says, pausing a bit to swallow harshly as Harrymoves his arm to check the blood flow is alright and the bandages are justtight enough. “So I try to yell at ‘em to be careful but just as I was about toreach the guitar and leave a guy was pushed over, I can only guess he was deaddrunk, because he didn’t even try to slow down the fall, and I could only seehis ass was for sure gonna land on my guitar, so I jumped head first to grab itand he fell on me, I fell on the corner of the stage, thus the bruising.”

“Is that why you told the nurse the reasonof all this was a bar fight?”

“Well, technically it all started with abar fight, but as I was about to explain it all she just went and rolled hiseyes and gave me a yellow paper.” Niall says, a sour look on his face, “realrude of her, you know.”

“Yeah, you’ll have to forgive her,” Harrysays with a small smile, “we don’t get much of anything other than bar fightson Friday nights.” He continues, handing Niall a sheet of paper with hisprescribed pain medication.

“Do I have to come for you to take a lookat it again? Like, remove the bandage or something?” Niall asks, looking a bitforlornly at the piece of paper.

“Oh, yeah but not here, exactly. You cancall this number,” he says, handing Niall a small card that just says Liam Payne and two phone numbers. “He’sthe best orthopedist you’ll ever find in this hospital. He’ll do an x-ray,check everything’s alright and in about 4 weeks you’ll be bandages free.” Hefinishes, smiling despite the fact that Niall looks kind of sad. Disappointedeven. “He really is the best, you’ve got nothing to be scared of, he’ll takegood care of you.”

“Not as good as you,” Niall mutters underhis breath as Harry turns his back on him to open the curtain that wasseparating them from the rest of the E.R.

“What was that?” Harry asks.

“Oh, nothing, just. Thinking out loudabout whether I should try to find a bus or just walk home.”

“I can call you a cab if you’d like.”Harry offers. Helping Niall gather his guitar, papers and card without losinganything.

“No, that’s alright. I left my jacket atthe bar so I have no change with me, just my very loyal Oyster card and twowell-functioning legs.”

“It’s really late, Niall, really. I canlend you some, it’s no trouble.” Harry says, searching in his pockets for hiswallet, “I’d be no good of me as a doctor if I fix you up only to let you walkhome at two in the morning. Cab is the safest option.”

“Also the most expensive,” Niall remarks,“we’re in an alright neighborhood and I live like half an hour from here, it’llbe alright.” Then, with a bit more of spark in his eyes, he says; “If you wantyou can give me your number and I can text you as soon as I get home.”

Harry seemed too busy looking into hiswallet to notice, though, “Here, just a couple of bucks. Just in case youdecide your house’s too far and you’re too tired or cold to keep walking.” Hesays, handing Niall a couple of folded bills. “Or in case you have nothing inyour Oyster card. Can’t never be too safe.”

He’s just finished talking when a beepcomes from his pocket. Eyes opening wide when he sees a red alert from hispager.

“Well, look at that. You can have a couplered cases on Friday nights too.” Harry says, shaking his head, “Have a niceevening. Don’t forget to pick up your meds tomorrow morning. What I just gaveyou we’ll be enough for the night but it might get really achey if you movearound a lot.” Harry says, walking fast towards the nurses’ station. “No guitarplaying, for at least a week, let you hand heal nicely. If there’s moreswelling, your fingers get really cold, dark or you can’t feel them or there’sany fever at all, please come back to the E.R immediately.” Harry says in arush as he checks the new triage papers. “Any questions?”

“Thank you.” Says Niall. “Really, you werethe nicest doctor I’ve ever met and I promise when I come back for that check-upI’ll hunt you down and pay you back.”

“No need,” Harry replies with a smile,“I’ve got to run. Have a safe trip home!”

And with that he leaves, back towards theentrance of the E.R where an ambulance is pulling in someone in a really bloodystretcher.

With a shudder, Niall turns to leave, notbefore looking back at Harry for the last time and saying to himself, “nexttime I’ll get his number.”