✿☆ Rosie ☆✿

highkey always tired || 20 || writer at heart || here to read and vibe honestly ♡

[minxx-winxx]

☆*: .｡. Masterlist .｡.:*☆

Most of my page will mainly consist of two things!

Smut [💋] | Angst [💢] | Fluff [🫠] | Hurt/Comfort [🥹] | Platonic [✨] | Trigger Warning [※]

Spider-Man ATSV:

Miles Morales (earth 42)

♡ 42!Miles Morales HC [🫠💢]

♡ Staying Right Here | The series [🫠💢🥹]

➱ Part 1: Two Wrongs Don't Make a Right

Hobie Brown

♡ Uncovering Love's Illusions [🫠💢✨]

Five Nights At Freddy's (FNAF):

Mike Schmidt

♡ Antics with Romantics [🫠]

♡ Whispered Betrayal [💢]

♡ Under The Weather [🫠💢]

♡ Lost in Devotion [🫠💋]

♡ Midnight Serenade [🫠]

Vanessa Shelly

♡ Echoes of Hope [🫠💢🥹]

Burn:

♡ Criminals of Justice - Billy [※]

Suits:

Mike Ross

♡ Love on Hold [💢※]

➱Part 2: Hearts on Pause [🫠✨※]

Harvey Specter

♡ [tbd]

My Hero/Buko No Hero Academia:

Shigaraki

♡ The Price of Love [💢※]

The Beekeeper:

♡ Our Shade of Love - Derek [🥹🫠💋]

Criminal Minds

♡ The Warmth You Took With You - Spencer Reid [💢💢※]

~Minx

Any and all banner templates I use are made by this lovely person so you should check them out! (and credit them!):

@cafekitsune

My blog of original stories and not fanfiction: @librarian-minx

[minxx-winxx]

The Warmth You Took With You

Word Count: 1.5k Media Credits: @fatalitysficbakery Cautions: just straight hurting, heavy angst, death, mentions of death(?), mentions of weapons], love confessions (oooo so scary)

《Uhhh, I'm back?? This was not the original fic for spencer I had in my drafts, I was in an angst mood and created disaster...whoops》

♡

“Damn it, it’s like someone shoved an igloo in my body and threw me in the ocean.” 

You were low on energy, low on temperature, had a wicked headache, and stuck there until help arrived. They say they’ll be there in 20, but you knew it would probably be 10; the team always has a need for speed. You dropped your communicator some time ago but it’s whatever at this point, not when you’ve done enough stupid shit today.

You look around the room you were in – its walls were peeling, the chairs creaked, and the dust settled in the nooks of the books. This was super unsanitary, you couldn’t believe you were touching things with your bare hands. You weren’t a germaphobe, like a certain someone you knew, but this was just plain disgusting. 

You began to hear sounds in the distance, and then the sirens. Yeah, they were on their way alright, rowdy even in situations like this. It sounded as rambunctious as ever, chaotic chatter and voices that boom through valleys. 

You could hear Hotch calling for you, shouting your name from the front of the old school building, but your body has gotten too comfortable in the corner of this room. It wasn’t as if you were near the entrance anyways. And somehow you felt even colder than before, noting that the draft in the room wasn’t helping your case. 

Good news out of this entire situation was that your headache was slowly slipping away from you. You hear the banging, stomping, the yelling. Everything was happening at once, you felt it was only right you got up to join the team now that things were much safer. 

You laid back, feeling your head touch something soft. A carpet. With every fiber of your being, you used the rest of your depleted energy to lift yourself on the carpet, or you thought you did. All you could do was turn on your stomach and crawl your way there, severely overestimating yourself. 

He found you first, in spite of being one of the most unathletic people you’ve ever met. Despite you not saying anything, not once. He’s sweating profusely, breathing as if someone stole one of his lungs, and hunched over the door frame he just burst through. 

“Breathe dude,” was all you could manage to tell him, holding back a laughter that barely existed in the first place. He took a minute to catch his breath, hoisting his gun back into the place it came before coming in towards you.

“I don’t know if you heard but we’ve been–” He took one glance down and the color in his face drained. It was as if he dove, it was more of his knees giving up on him. He collapsed to the ground, forward towards you, as if gravity decided it had seen enough of him towering over others. 

His movements were slow at first, painfully moving one muscle at a time every second, but then he scrambled himself across the carpet to place me in a place I always favored the most. His arms. He felt warm, so warm. 

Thankfully so, your lips were chapped and you were going to turn into a popsicle soon. Your body begins to relax as you lay in his arms, feeling your body unravel. He took it upon himself to remove your vest and let his hands just do whatever they wanted. Maybe he was searching for wounds, maybe he was doing an awkward job at comforting you. 

“You’re warm,” even though it was a mumble, he stiffened up but it didn’t stop his hands. One hand held onto you, pulling you close while the other ventured in a frenzy around your face before back to the main trunk of the body. 

“You're cold,” he rebuked. Turning your head, you took a glimpse at his face. He was ready to spiral any moment. Maybe you relaxed a little too easily in his arms, feeling yourself becoming lightheaded. You could feel one of his hands stop moving, peeling your shirt from your skin. 

“I’m freezing actually, been for awhile now,” you state in a matter of fact tone, trying to lighten the situation. “How’s the unsub, did you guys find them,” the question came off as if you were out of it, it did weigh in your mind if they were safe or not. Not that he answered your question though.

“No, no, no, no, no, no. You’re in hypovolemic shock, your body’s compensating—just stay with me. You’ll be fine, we still can make it while under this window of time—HOTCH!” His voice cracking shouts echoed through the room, escaping through the corridors of the olden building. 

“Hotch, I found her! She’s here, near the east, past the rubble. Morgan!”

“Reid, listen to me,” you begin to ask, turning yourself towards him with your entire body. Not only to enjoy maximum warmth, but to do what you must. If you didn’t, you knew all hell could break loose. 

“No, no, don’t speak. Studies have shown–” 

“Reid, my love, listen. Please,” you raise your arm to cup his face so he would face you, understand that you meant every word that was to come out of your mouth seriously. “If I don’t get the chance to say this now, I’ll never be able to.”

The look on his face, between a pleading cry and a scowl. He was honestly a giant mess but you knew he’d be fine, especially with the relationships he’s made with the people who involve themselves in his life. 

“My moon, you knew more ridiculous facts than everyone I knew combined. Sometimes your silly spills got on Morgan’s nerves but he loves you like a brother. And I love you like the sun loves the sky. You mustn’t give up, you must keep moving forward. And-” you pause, glossing your eyes to his. 

You changed your mind, there were more important things to say than waste your breath on something someone else could easily convince him with. You place your arm on his, slowly making circles with your thumb. 

“Do you love me?” You thought it through, but knew it wasn’t what he was expecting, and you were right. The question was sudden, as if someone splattered food in his face. He was taken aback, quite dramatically, and couldn’t stop his brows from furrowing. 

“What? We’ve been dating for—” 

“Not dates, stats, or specifics Reid. Do you love me?” You ask a second time, feeling your vision go blurry by the minute. 

You couldn’t tell if it was from the tears building in your sockets or the lightheadedness getting to you. 

“I love you more than you could ever imagine. So please, please,” his voice was low and you could tell he was choking back a sob. Dear God, you loved this man so much. He was just precious beyond words could comprehend. 

“You are the cornea of my eyes, the only person I know who could easily sweep me off my feet without being athletic. You stole my heart and entrapped it with yours as we both watch the vines of eternal love smother them cold.” You whispered, feeling the reality of the situation begin to settle. 

“No one could separate us, not the claws of the devil nor the mighty trumpets of God. I have and will always choose to fall for you each and every time, no matter the occasion. I love you so, so much Spence.” The more you spoke, the more it felt as if your words wanted to catch themselves in your throat. 

You continue to rub circles in his arms, even when yours feels weak. Even when you could feel yourself fade away. Even when you could hear the soft pleas that begged you to stay, that you just needed to hold on for a few more minutes. 

Your eyelids felt heavier by the second. And before you could completely let them shut, you muster up the strength to think of one last thing. ‘Dear God, please grant him happiness as I come to join you today, because he deserves it. Please watch over him.’ 

The entire world felt silent to Reid, as if someone placed it on mute. He could have shouted, screamed, or even wailed. Yet he simply let the tears fall, holding onto you. Slightly rocking back and forth as he presses his forehead to yours, entangling his hand with yours. 

Hearing the footsteps, or more like heavy steps, of the rest of the team coming down the hall. The closer they got, the louder the steps felt, as if the earth was shaking. He couldn’t ignore the feeling; this was reality, he was living in real life. 

The sobs began their escape, unable to avoid his denial. This was not an illusion. The sounds of the steps stopped, but he hadn’t noticed, while the team appeared in front of the door. 

Devastation couldn’t begin to describe it. He could no longer differentiate if it were his lover that was cold or if it were his own body. He usually carried heat for the both of you yet he couldn’t find the spark of heat he used to carry within him no longer.

♡

~ Minx

[minxx-winxx]

Our Shades of Love

Word Count: 3.2k Media Credits: mE again Cautions: hyper femininity (but like, mid fr), light angst, lots of cursing, suggestive undertones, sexual actions (not intercourse), femdom awakening(?), slightly soft domination, safe words, "release" in clothing, aftercare, fluff!!! (i cant handle not adding cute shit after cause ik this bout to be whack-)

《Always wanted to write for my dark skin girlies who get called whitewashed cause they don't act like stereotypes (I feel you besties) | my caution looks like ao3 tags | lowkey projecting & I did no research babes》

Surprise Surprise, I didn't finish and have no motivation to...welp

If someone had told, or tried to, tell him back then that he’d fall head over heels with such a woman, Mr. Danforth would have thrown them out of his office immediately. Life doesn’t go as planned though, lucky for him and the poor employee who would’ve been fired. 

 It wasn’t hard to spot, it was simply hard to look away. It should’ve been a normal morning, coming to a cafe to grab a quick coffee before working. In the corner of his eye, a very apparel color catches his attention, causing him to stop in the middle of his typing on the iPad. 

At first, he thought his eyes were playing tricks until he could see the heads of other people in the cafe turning as well. Staring out the window, eyes following the particular thing, or more like, a person. 

Though it shouldn’t come as a surprise in this day and age, but seeing someone wear all pink as if they were auditioning to play a princess role in the early hours sure is unexpected. He nearly scoffs, the daunting color was blinding the closer it came, and once the bell jingled, everyone’s head had turned.  

Unbeknownst to the both individuals, this exact day changed the course of their future. 

꧁☽︎ ♡ ☾︎꧂

“It might be her indirect way of refraining from calling me some kind of slur. She said if I keep dressing like this, I’ll be mistaken for ‘a housewife like its the 1700’s, holding tea parties for the nobility.’ A backhanded compliment I suppose.” A casual day at work, as well as a normal occurrence at this point. 

The unnatural blonde eyes narrowed, side eyeing you due to the unprompted statement that was just dropped. “Tell her to go fuck herself next time, she can’t afford what you have and is just letting jealousy talk,” his response was quick, and filled with ridicule as always. 

You couldn’t help but chuckle, tying the ends of your bonnet into a bow. Turning around on the stool, you watch as his thumb mindlessly scrolls on his phone, head leaning on the canopy bed pole. With one glance away from the screen, he does a double take before tossing it to the side somewhere on the bed. Getting up from where he sat, he stood in front of you, bending down ever so slightly to give you a small kiss. 

“You look gorgeous, fuck whatever that woman was talking about.” His words truly made you melt, no matter how foul mouthed he was, he always knew how to filter it out to make you feel special. 

But the thought continued to linger, like it always does. Everyone before meeting you assumes nothing but the strangest things, looking down on the idea that you might not be stereotypical. You were deemed too “black” for those lighter than you. Yet you weren’t black enough for anyone to feel comfortable, no matter where you went.

Warm hands cup your hands to look upwards, the curly head man locking eyes with you. “I can tell you're thinking of bullshit,” he says, “Ignore that old bat, if I say your beautiful then your beautiful dammit. Come on.” 

Without waiting for an answer, he grabs your hand and tugs you to the bed. One hand in his, the other clutching on the top of your night robe, trying to keep things decent. On the edge of the bed, you watch as he gets comfort in the middle of the bed, gesturing for you to lie near him and do the same. 

Playfully sighing, you make your way to him, crawling in his arms and setting your head in his chest. He engulfs your entire being into a hug, drawing funky shapes on your back. Wrapping your arms around him, you settle in comfortably with the silence. Well, that was before he spoke up, feeling his words vibrate in his body.

“Come to my place tomorrow, Wallace will pick you up.” Confused but intrigued, you peek from where you lied, seeing his eyes closed, hands continuously making imaginary nonsense. You hum in response, digging your face back into his warmth, feeling your body relax in his touch. 

As the night begins to fade, both entangled bodies slip away into their own consciousness, keeping themselves as close as possible. Time continues and inevitably, the touch of the sun gives the room a light hug as day breaks. The calm morning air gently shook him awake, his eyes fluttering as it adjusted to the light. 

Grumbling a line of curse words under his unbrushed breath, he reaches his unoccupied hand to the nightstand to grab his phone. ‘06:13 a.m.’ He had woken up before his alarm, but knew if he slept once more, he would ignore it and sleep in. He lays in the bedding for a few minutes, thoughts going 5mph. 

Bored out of his mind, he does the one thing he knows he shouldn’t: deciding to wake up his lovely girlfriend out of her slumber. Though he knows the results, he could never get enough of the rare chances he does. It was as if a new person emerged, one full of confidence and did exactly what came to mind; something he doesn’t see often.

Poked to the point of rising from your half baked coma, your nose scrunches in annoyance as you swat his hand away. Letting out a yawn and blinking several times before setting yours eyes on the culprit the finger belonged to. You were far from being a morning person, you hated being woken up so much because it caused you to get a little upset. 

Your thoughts were far worse, slightly violent even. Unraveling yourself from his body, you lazily stretch your arm to grab your phone. It wasn’t even 06:30, why in the world was he waking you up? Turning to your side, you dug your face into the pillow, letting out an elongated, “fuck.” 

“Well I mean, we could but you might be late to work” you hear from a low voice in the sidelines. If anything, you wanted to hit him once due to the fact he had woken you up. Especially when he should know better, yet proceeds to joke around. 

Without giving him so much of a glance, you ignore him and remove yourself off the bed, putting slippers on to go straight to the bathroom. Sitting up, he watches as you push his words aside and walk into the bathroom, closing the door behind you. He collapses in laughter, his curls smushed in the pile of pillows. 

You could hear his laughter, the rustling of the sheets, his footsteps getting closer, soon the door of the bathroom opens and he emerges. Not in the mood to entertain his stupidity, you huff and face the other way, grabbing your toothbrush and toothpaste. Even as he approaches you with a smug face, wrapping his arms around your waist, you continue to ignore him while trying to appease yourself. 

“It wasn’t a no–” it was a quick turn around, he was surprised you didn’t get whiplash from it. If looks could say words, your glare was most definitely telling him that he was treading a line he shouldn’t at the moment. 

“Derek.” Your tone was stern, half your brain still wanting to go back to sleep, and his little sex jokes would land you tying him to a tree outside. Shutting himself up, his mouth goes into a straight line. He slowly pulls back, awkwardly taking a couple steps back before leaving the bathroom entirely. 

Shaking your head at his actions thus far, you continue your morning routine. It had to be at least 30 minutes before you stepped out, glancing around the room, seeing particularly no one. Slightly perplexed, you walk towards the closet to pick out the outfit for the day, trying to get ready as fast as you could to find that boyfriend of yours. 

Before you could bend to pick up your flats, here goes the curly head barging back into the room. He swiftly walks over and picks them up from the corner of the closet, bending on one knee as if he were proposing. Right, no matter what, he returns and makes jokes. 

Smiling at his antics, you watch as he places them down, sliding yourself in them nicely. Getting up to go sit on your desk to finish off with a few jewelry, your nose caught a whiff of something. Leaning down closer, you caught the familiar scent. Now observing him more, his clothes he wore yesterday were gone.

“Ya showered?” He gets up from the ground, causing you to fix your posture as you sit on your stool. Turning around, you watch him struggle to pick a necklace for you to wear. Eventually distracted with trying to lightly put on some foundation, you missed his initial expression. 

“Yeah, and masturbated. How’d you know?” his tone was nonchalant but it caught you off guard, almost fucking up the lip line you were making. Absolutely flabbergasted, you put down the glossier, facing him as he kept that stoned expression on his face as if he didn’t just say something out of pocket.

“You smell like the products I buy, that’s why! You did NOT need to dive into that detail,” you tell him, watching his brows furrowed once more before picking up a silver necklace with a cute heart in the center. 

“But you asked. Anyways, wear the recent one I bought.” It indeed did go with your outfit but you could tell he just wanted you to wear what he personally bought. Moving your braids out the way, he takes the gesture as nonverbal permission and places the necklace on, clipping it together. 

Just as you were finishing your routine with some lip gloss, you feel a certain heat on your neck. He places one hand on your back, palm in contact with your shirt. The other hand was sliding upwards, from your neck before holding your chin, forcing you to face the ceiling. He hovers over you a little, admiring you upside down before placing his lips on yours. 

It was light and sweet but as he parts from you, uneven breathing, you could visibly see the lip gloss. Just as a reassurance, he gives you a quick peck before letting go, leaning forward to grab a wipe from the vanity. Though it was smudged, on the both of you, you couldn’t help but chuckle. He was silly indeed.

Tossing the used wipe to the side, he buries his face in your neck, hair and all. “I don’t wanna go to work, but if I don’t, these idiots will fuck up all my hard work.” You hear his unappreciative mumbling, grinning to yourself while reapplying lip gloss. 

Playfully pushing him away, you grab your bag and phone, making your way out the room. Following your tail like a duckling to its mother, his out of tone humming trails you until the both of you walk out of your place, his overly shiny car the first thing in sight. With a click of a button, the door unlocks and he steps next to it, opening the door, genturing you to hop in.

“Watch those naughty hands, I won’t easily forgive you like I did this morning,” you say in a nonchalant tone, warning him as soon as your back turned his way. His hands were indeed stuck midair, seemingly repealed back. With a ‘tsk’, he closes the car door and walks to the driver's side. 

The drive was filled with laughter, jokes, sly comments here and there. A ride of love and comfort. Pulling up to the familiar building, the car parallel parks near the sidewalk, keeping the engine running. 

“Don’t forget our plans later,” he announces as he turns around in his seat, giving you yet another kiss. You were confused about what he meant until you remembered his little mumble the night before. Humming in response, you pull away from the bliss and hold his hand. 

“Stay in the car, don’t give poor Wallace another migraine,” although it might have looked as if you were treating him like a child, but you knew if you were to let him leave the car with you, something bad was bound to happen. 

Before he could respond, you grabbed what you came in the car with and took your leave out of the vehicle. Rushing off the street, you step onto the sidewalk, making your way to the drivers side. Using the index and middle finger knuckles to knock on the window, he rolls down the glass. 

“Love you.” On that note, you turned your tail around and began walking to the door of the building, no chance to hear or give him time to say anything back. He laughs under his breath, watching your back as you enter, eyes remaining until you were no longer in his sights. 

He drives off, more motivated than before to do anything. Well, more like to do whatever he felt like but it was worth mentioning. Meanwhile, you had entered the building with a smile on your face, straight down a hallway before going through a door labeled ‘Employees Only.’ 

Clocking in, putting on gloves and your nametag, leaving your bag in your locker, and grabbing the small waist apron that lies within the locker. Tying the apron to yourself, you walk over to another room in the back to look at a large board. Spotting your name, you read the rest of the names in the row. 

With a sigh of relief, you go back to grab your phone and place it in the pocket of the apron before leaving the employee room. Going past the front desk, you head towards the large door frame that closes with curtains, walking through to the larger space on the other side. 

It always made you feel as if it were as glamorous as a large library, it didn’t feel as a place where one could eat and read books. Gosh, does this place hold a special place in your heart. Walking around to pull chairs down or open up the shelves of books on all three floors, getting things ready.

“Well miss star employee, don’t you look totally gorg, as always,” a familiar, kind voice echoes from the row of books behind you. Twisting around, you laugh and watch as the figure comes closer, giving you a side hug. 

Down the row you both go, chatting pleasantries and eventually the time comes to open the building to the public once more. And so another work day begins, meeting all kinds of people and listening to all kinds of stories, relating, sharing interests. It felt as if time had passed so quickly. 

You hadn’t seen the figure standing near the entrance. “If only Derek could be this productive when he comes in on a daily basis.” The studden sophisticated tone startled your movements, stopping you dead in your tracks with a clipboard in your hand. 

“Holy f–,” you stop yourself from completing that statement, looking around to see if anyone else heard you. You cover your mouth with the clipboard before moving towards him, inch by inch. 

“Wallace, jeez! What are you doing here, my shift isn’t over yet.” Whisper yelling behind the wooden board, you cover your face in embarrassment. You hear a sigh escape his lips. Ah, Derek has done something again. This man is just tired of his shit honestly. 

“Well he told me to pick you up, picking a fight until I gave in. He said that he let your manager know so you could clock out early.”  You let out a scoff of disbelief, lowering the board. Grumbling under your breath as you begin untying your apron, a couple of words slip past his hearing but he chooses to ignore them. 

Those specific words being, “of course he did, this fuck ass idiot-.” You continue to grumble on your way to the employee room, clocking out and placing things back in order, leaving with your bag on your back and phone in hand. 

”Off we go now, the impatient ‘young master’ is waiting.” An inside joke between the two of you, causing you to let out a poorly kept in chuckle. Unable to hide his small grin, you wave goodbye to your coworker before following Wallace out. 

As the gentleman he was, he opened the car door for you to climb in, closing it as gently as he could before striving his steps into the driver's seat. The drive was silent, but comfortable for the both of you, the radio used as background noise to drown your thoughts in. 

No matter what he planned, you were going to have to tell him off (again) for interrupting your work. Yet, your resolved decision melted as soon as the car pulled past a recognizable gate, the mansion like house before you belonging to your boyfriend. 

The same boyfriend who was standing outside, speaking to a very beautiful woman. A very tall, seductive woman with the most luscious red lips known to man. With a sneer, you exit the car before Wallace could even shut the engine off. 

Approaching the two with a pep in your step, you place a friendly smile on your face and interlock your arms with his, facing the woman. Jeezuz, she was stunning. Keeping the smile on your face, you reach a hand out to shake hers, out of courtesy. 

She lets out a hardy laugh before letting her palm touch yours, shaking your hand without losing her demeanor at your obvious jealousy toll. Unable to continue the talk seriously, she introduces herself briefly before saying her goodbyes. You continued to watch her even after she had left, her car getting further and further away. 

You un-cling yourself to his arm and walk into the empty home, thanking Wallace for the ride before closing the front door. Rudely shooing Wallace away, Derek follows you inside, locking the door after he comes in. You set your bag and phone on the side table near the living room, unable to set your emotions apart. 

You could hear the unclothed mouth of his roar through the home, as if it were bouncing on the walls of your brain. His endless jokes and sly comments about you being jealous. The further in you walked, the more he spoke. 

“I meant for us to cuddle and watch a movie, but I didn’t know you’d get jealous like this.” It wasn’t until you began walking up the stairs that you felt something in your mind opened your eyes. You paused, mid-climb, and spun your body around to see him. 

You stare him dead in the eyes before reaching over to grab his chin, two fingers on one side and your thumb on the other. He sucked in a breath to stop himself from talking, slightly startled at the sudden action. 

The tension thick enough to fog a glass on the sunniest day of the year; the silence so loud you could hear a marble roll across the tiled floors. Directing his head towards yours, you lean your face in until only an inch was left between your noses. 

“Jealous? Well I'm not exactly keen on the idea of sharing you with others. You've been testing my patience today, wouldn't you say so?” Your deadpan expression tied it together as you clench your teeth. “It's been awhile since we've gone to the playroom, hasn't it.”

His facial features always highlighted themselves whenever his expression visibly twisted on his face.

---

~ Minx

[minxx-winxx]

Echoes of Hope

Media Credit: I had to create this stupid thing to fit the plot (I am no editor) Caution: straight hurt fr, fluff, reminisce, hospital setting TW- mentions of suicide ideations [if you need help, please reach out ♥] | this is NOT finished, I just need it out my drafts. This has been here since LAST YEAR |

It started with a phone call you received one breezy afternoon. 

It was sudden, something completely unexpected. As you had listened to the person on the other line speak, your heart had shattered and the pieces were being scattered throughout your body. Your entire body gave out as you dropped to the ground, your coworkers around you squealed in surprise as they attempted to help you. Of course, you hung up on the person from the other line and you slowly slipped out of consciousness, watching reality fade from your sight. 

The next thing you knew, you woke up in the first aid room in your workplace, lying on the bed. The bed was just a folding cot with a mattress covered with a comforter. It felt as if time was slowing down the more you moved, your body forced itself to move, otherwise everything was going to feel as if you were in a dream. 

“Woah, I don’t think you should get up just yet Ms. Shelly,” you hear from behind the curtains that block both parties' views. They pull back the curtains to hand you a cup of water, which you take and chug down. You felt the cold liquid pass down your body, reassuring yourself that this indeed was reality. And you had no time to be taking your time to do any of this. 

Ripping the curtains open, you grab your belongings from the side table and bolt out the room, ignoring the shouts from the people in the room. Scanning your ID as you throw yourself out the door, you rush to the parking lot, running through the concrete space in your heels. Dashing into your car, you pull out of the space and rush home, going slightly over the speed limit but praying not to get pulled over. 

“First thing’s first, a damn plane ticket,” you tell yourself when you turn into a familiar neighborhood, preparing yourself step by step of what you need to do. Pulling into your driveway, you put the car in park, removed your seatbelt, and turned the engine off. Sitting in the car to let yourself calm down, you felt your eyes begin to prickle with tears, threatening to spill. Unable to keep yourself collected, you sat in the seat for an hour and let the water push past the gates and flood. 

↠

“Oh, uh- Good morning…” a raspy voice behind you says in an unsure tone, closing the sliding door behind them as they hold onto the backpack they had. You could have guessed who it was by the voice, someone whom you’ve gotten to know the past few weeks while you were there. Without raising your head up, you shoot out a ‘Good morning’, flipping through pages as you jot down more notes. 

With an inaudible sigh, you place your notebook down with the pen in between pages to properly look up. Seeing his typically rough edge look, jeans and a hoodie with his unkempt hair, you were very much correct. It was Mike Schmidt, the old security of that wretched place. 

Dashing through the corridors without a care in the world about the surroundings, sweat soaking through your shirt, evidence of how much you were running from the parking lot. You see the number you need in the corner of your eyes and your entire body comes to a complete halt. Problem is, the door was left ajar, which meant someone was still in there or they just left and had no courtesy of closing it. 

The closer you got to the door, the more twisted your insides felt. Reaching the push the door open, you were startled hearing a scratchy voice come from the room. You glance at the door, to make sure this was the correct room but seeing the familiar name catches you in a whirl of confusion. Just who is inside?

Forcefully pushing your nerves through the ends of your fingertips, you push the door open. As it creeks, the voice in the room ceased, and in your view was a stranger. A rough around the edge looking man, and a small little girl next to him. Under the state of mixed emotions, your tone rips out of you before you could think. 

“Who are you? How do you know vanny?”  Directed towards the older man, your eyes lock with his. His brows furrowed in confusion before he spoke up, keeping his hands on the shoulders of the little girl, a backpack slung on his shoulder. 

“Uh- we mean no harm? We just came to visit, we're friends of sorts to Vanessa,” he replies, using a calming tone to not trigger anything out of you. You, finally letting the situation sink in, slowly nodded and began walking in the room. And that's when you spotted her, pale, lying on her back with various tubes sticking in who knows what. 

~ Minx

[edwardcreel]

reblog if you believe fanfics are as valid as books that were published and sold by authors who write as their main careers. I'm trying to prove a point

[minxx-winxx]

The Price of Love

Word Count: 3.8k Caution: murder, slight fluff, romane(ish)

I hope you enjoy?This is the cut version btw, i'll post the uncut version on ao3

In a world where a power you’re born with determines your fate, it truly renders you useless in the face of love. As the heroes bask in the light of glory and praise, and villains are shunned away from the face of the public. Disgraced, booed, ridiculed. To get involved with you can lead to public unrest, especially someone looked up to. These traits and supernatural powers bestowed on humanity were eventually named “quirks.” 

And sometimes, not having a quirk is better than having one that society does not approve of. 

But with power comes responsibility, so the heroes and villains are usually the headlines. Those without quirks or with quirks that can’t help them defeat bad guys are ordinary civilians. Just as so, they are office workers, managers, teachers, etc. However, these go unappreciated and unnoticed by most. 

Suzuki Yuma, a twenty-one-year-old teacher at U.A. who’s currently having an intense inner debate on whether she should eat in her classroom or in the teachers' lounge. Ultimately sighing, she chooses to eat in her classroom, waving to the hero study students who were bunched around the corridors, chatting away. 

Coming down the hall were all the famous heroes as well as teachers of the hero course. Eraserhead, Present Mic, Midnight, the whole bunch. Following the suite of the students, she moves to connect her back to the wall, letting them pass by. Some give a slight nod or wave as they pass, acknowledging her as a peer. With a small smile, she does a slight bow and continues to make her way to her classroom, and their grime faces imprinted themselves in her brain. 

“Whew, well, that was a little unsettling,” she says in a hushed tone as she takes a seat in her chair, understanding that things were no longer peaceful for the students. Especially the hero course students, more specifically Class 1A. It was as if the wet blanket continuously refused to lift itself off the school, causing the students turmoil. 

Picking up the chopsticks, she tries desperately to push aside the negative thoughts. She just had to try her hardest to be there for her students. The minutes go by as Yuma eats silently while looking through lesson plans for the rest of the day. A faint knock was heard before the doors to the room slid to the side. 

“Uh, Ms.Suzuki, could we perhaps join you?” The soft voices that hid behind the door always warmed her heart, the familiar faces of her homeroom peeking. How could anyone ever say no to such lovely children? Certainly, she wasn’t; they were just innocent beings needing guidance, and she would help in any way she could.

“Come on in guys, you're always welcome,” with the approval, they all share a look of excitement before bursting into the room. The group was more significant than she thought; in fact, it was her entire homeroom. Playfully exhaling loudly, she can’t help but love them, not when they’ve opened theirs to her. 

And that’s how the lunch period passed, the chatter of the students expressing their happiness to their lovely teacher. Immediately after, they dove into the lesson plan, having fun, and soon enough, the school day was over. 

Saying goodbye to each individual student as the end-of-the-day ritual, she gives a hug to the last student leaving the door before stretching at a job well done. Clapping her hands together, she shuffles down each row, cleaning up after her students. Rounding around the last row, she walks to her desk and reaches her hand beneath, grabbing her bag. 

Bag thrown on her shoulders, she struts to exit before turning around at the empty classroom, watching the low sunlight laminate the desks. Suddenly feeling sentimental, she opens the door to leave, only to bump into someone. Wobbling back, she hears an apology from a familiar voice.

“Eraserhead,” she says in confusion, staring at the man in all black standing in front of the classroom door. Dusting herself properly, she could see that he wasn’t expecting the collision either. Though, he is standing in the way.

“I came to tell you that we’ll be having a meeting Monday evening to inform all the staff at U.A. of the current situation and keep everyone on the same page,” he says, hands in his pockets, tired look as usual. 

“Oh, thank you for telling me, but wouldn’t this be more efficient if it were an email?” Her reply had some weight to it, considering the subject of the matter dealt with the safety of the children. 

“Nezu sent one out to everyone, but some haven’t confirmed their attendance, so he was worried they might not have seen it or gotten it. You are one of those people, Queen Cosmos.” Heat rushed to her face, though it wasn’t noticeable on the outside; she turned her head away and began fanning herself. 

“Right, the kids came in during the lunch period, so I haven’t looked at a screen all day; my apologies. I will attend!” With a curt nod, he walks away, and she steps out, shutting and locking the door behind her before leaving. Leaving the school building, she was lost in her thoughts.

‘What an embarrassing moment,’ she begins to think as she walks down the street, ‘I was so involved with the kids that I didn’t even think to check my email!’ Reaching for her phone in her pocket as she continues passing by others on the street, she sends a signal. 

A chill sent up her spine, and she turned around in a flash. No one. Huh. Picking up the pace, the prickling feeling wouldn’t go away. To shake it off, she began lowering herself to get lost in the crowd. 

Ducking into the nearest alleyway, a black and purple mist appears, slowly forming a circle. Stepping into the mysterious mist, the atmosphere changed before stepping out into a seemingly empty bar area. With its rundown look, she takes a seat on the stool, slamming her forehead on the counter.

“Great, another idiot has arrived. Shigaraki, come get your girlfriend from dying in our place,” a spiteful tone that spat venom quicker than she could ever activate her quirk, yet recognizable all the same. 

“It’s lovely to see you too, Dabi,” she says, picking her pitiful head up from the wood to glance his way, hearing heavy footsteps echo, coming closer by the second. Out from the corner appeared a disheveled blue-headed man, hood slipping off as he charged towards Yuma’s sitting arrangements. Arms open as she braces for impact, the two bodies collide and head towards the ground. 

Before they could make contact with the hard floor, something soft touched her back. Not letting go of the tight hug she was in, she let her eyes wander until they landed on the soft item they ended up on. The couch in the main room collected their weight as they sunk further. 

“I’ve always told you to be careful, Shigaraki; people can get hurt like that,” standing right above them was a head of black and purple fog with a silver tin covering their neck, arms crossed. Well, he did have a point. 

“Thanks for constantly warping me, Kuro,” she says with a sheepish smile. Although unimpressed, he simply lets it go and steps away from the whole thing. At this point, the blue-headed figure has yet to release his grasp. Receiving small pats on the back, he lifts his head yet tightens his grip. 

Hair blocking the upper half of his face couldn’t possibly block the puffed cheeks and outstretched lips. He was most certainly pouting. Letting out a small chuckle, she continues to rub and give small pats to his back, letting him get comfortable before he settles his head down on her chest. 

“You didn’t visit last week,” he finally says, mumbling under his breath, sulking. She felt terrible, considering she couldn’t come due to a situation with one of her students keeping her occupied. But, it wasn’t as if this wasn’t expected when they only spoke and saw each other when she came to visit him. 

“Sorry Shigi, I got busy. That’s why I said you should get a phone,” she states, hands slowly moving upwards until they found their way into his hair. Steadily running her hands through his hair, he huffs in response, not arguing to dispute the facts. 

His silence filled the air, reminding her that she wasn’t going to achieve anything by continuing the conversation. This wasn’t the first time, and surely wouldn’t be the last. Constantly hitting a wall when it came to things like this, it felt like she was left out of something important but did not want to risk it, they’ve only been dating for a few months now. Ignoring the elephant in the room, Shigaraki lifts himself, unclutching his tight grasp. 

“Apply chapstick on me!” As he sat near her, face full of anticipation, Yuma could easily guess what he truly meant. With a small chuckle, she rises from her position and plants her lips on his before separating, sitting upright next to him. Honestly, it doesn’t take much to tease him, but even so, it was all to see his adorable reactions.

“Babe, you know that’s not what I want. Do it properly,” he grumbles, leaning over to complete the job himself. It wasn’t shocking or sent waves of electricity through her body, his touch just made her melt; it was soft and gentle (contrary to his looks). And that was what made it eternal bliss.

✧ ↠

Days passed, and the week continued; the weekend came and went for everyone. The weather outside was bright and clear for a great start to the week, uplifting the moods of the students and adults alike. However, there was one person who wasn’t quite head steady.

The atmosphere throughout the meeting on Monday was a little suffocating, but it was necessary and informational.  Not to mention the fire-shot feeling of having a pair of eyes follow her every move whenever she leaves the campus. Combining both issues at hand, they caused her brain to malfunction since Monday. 

Yuma could barely concentrate for the rest of the day, making small mistakes in her teaching. The students, who were dearly concerned for their favorite teacher, could easily sense the uneasiness. Ever since lunch period yesterday, when they couldn’t find her in the classroom due to the meeting, she’s been on edge as soon as she started class. 

“I apologize for not being attentive these past two days, children. I’ll clear my mind and bring you something fun, so how about we wrap up early!” She exclaims, putting down the chalk and dusting her hands. They still felt burdened by her uneasiness but followed directions for her sake. It was a slow packing up, yet they were quick enough to surround her. 

“Oh! Children-” Before she could think of what to say or why they surrounded her, twenty pairs of hands stretched out to engulf each other simultaneously. A group hug. Simply at a loss for words, her eyes welled up, threatening to burst open an unexpected dam. 

“Goodness, you all will be the death of me. I love you children so much.” No matter how much her lip quivered and her voice cracked, she kept the waterworks at bay and lowered herself to reciprocate. No amount of years of training could ever prepare her for a moment like this. 

Overseeing them all step back, she couldn’t help but admire how greatly they’d grown through the situation plaguing the institution. Watching them cheer her on as they leave the classroom, scattering the halls to different destinations. As soon as the last head was no longer in her sight, without missing a beat, she grabbed her phone and dashed out. 

Nonstop running, she bumps into a few people on the street, throwing apologies as she makes her way to a familiar alleyway. The shivers she’s been feeling all week being absent made her want to hurry even more. Impatiently pressing the signal, the warp gradually appeared before her before she threw herself into it. 

Unable to balance herself quickly enough, her body gets slammed into the bar counter, startling the others in the room. Trying to catch her breath, she heaves as she lets her body hit the ground in an attempt to ground herself. Everyone around, still shocked, was unmoved from their spot. 

“What an entrance.” Though it was obviously meant to be sarcastic, considering who it came from, it was filled with a questionable tone more than anything. Gaining at least some liberty to breathe, she uses the stool as support to stand, looming over the counter for one specific person. 

“I’d like to speak with you, Kurogiri,” Yuma says with a long exhale, watching the man with a head of mist put down the glassware he was cleaning. Without waiting for an answer, she walks around the counter to grab him by the arm and drag him somewhere to talk privately. 

As confused as he was, he went along with it. After all, what could possibly compel her to act like this? In the middle of the day, no less, a time when she typically would be working. Into his room they went, ignoring the voices behind them that began to chatter. Locking the door behind them, she stays facing the door, trying to find the right words.

“What- what do you all do for work?” It was an odd question on its own, but the situation couldn’t provide enough explanation. However, as strange as the question was, the room remained silent. This spoke volumes in itself. 

“You said that you all don’t go out much, if at all, during the day due to your complexion against the eyes of the public who view your quirks as villainous. The only one who casually goes in and out from here besides me is Toga, right?” 

He was treading carefully, unaware of the direction of this sudden interrogation. Needing to answer to avoid any suspicions, he finally responds. 

“Yes, it is only you and Toga who usually come in and out frequently. And it is true that no matter what we do, people give us a look of uncertainty. It’s especially hard on Shigaraki since he was young, you know this.” 

Right, she did know this cause it was the only information given when she asked why she’d never seen them out in public before. But was this indeed the reason? Everything from before felt like a lie; everything about them and her lover became so unclear. 

“That’s true, I do know that. But Kuro, why haven’t you answered my first question? You could not rent, lease, or even own this large space without any money, now could you?” He’s frozen in place, unable to move from there. He could easily lie, but it seemed like his lies would end full circle and bite him back. 

“Suzuki, the lair was a–” She turned around to be face-to-face with him. Her eyes seemed to stare deeper past his eyes like they were analyzing his soul. 

“Lair? I thought it was your home; why would you call it such?” Ah, the gears that were running overtime in his head suddenly halted. It was as if you could hear the last string of hope tear inside Yuma, the color draining from her face as she watched his instinctual reaction to the question. 

“Send me back,” she says in a low tone, unlocking the door now that she’s seen and heard enough. Hesitantly, he opens a portal against the door, staying hushed as she carries her hopeless body through. Not giving a single glance behind her, she’s right back in the familiar alleyway. 

Dragging her feet home, she crashes into her bedding and begins to sob. How possibly blind could she have been to love that she couldn’t tell how suspicious everything around her was? Forget being an underground hero; she shouldn’t even be able to call herself a hero of anything when she’s been hanging around villains. 

Villains! And of all the villains she could have come in contact with, it had to be the League of Villains. The very same threat that was the cause of the very children she cared about to suffer—the ones who were throwing their teenage years in for a world of danger and even near death. 

She couldn’t have felt more like an absolute idiot than she did now. 

✧ ↠

The hours that pass continuously fill the sudden empty hole in her heart with painfully obvious clues she had overlooked for the past few months. Her vision was blinded by rose-tinted glasses due to love but due to the blood of her peers that splattered on her oblivious eyes. 

She spent the last two days home since then, not going in or calling in for work. Phone off, ignoring everyone from the outside world. And she spent that time preparing to right her wrongs. It’s as if by taking off the blood-stained glasses, she was finally able to think clearly. 

Thursday morning, she stood near the kitchen, hands full. Two dozen small gift bags filled with little treats and trinkets, the twenty white bags were for her students, and the four multi-colored ones for those who deceived her. Because forgiveness does not start until one can forgive themselves. 

With her hero suit on, she places the tiny bags in her bag, and off she goes in the early morning. It was ideal, for her at least, to complete this last task before the sun came up. Only a handful of people were on school grounds, not counting those in the dorms, so she walked with ease to her classroom. Sliding the door open, she looks upon the empty room she had missed. 

Going down each row, she places a little white bag labeled with specific names on the respective desks of the child. Finishing the last row, she turns to walk back towards the front of the room to leave, only to pause in her steps. She couldn’t believe her eyes. 

Her own desk was filled with paper butterflies, and the board behind it was filled with little messages from each student. Silly drawings, mini storytimes, words of affirmation. Her hand began to stretch to touch it, as if it were unreal, only for her to retract it quickly. She had made up her mind, so she must finish what she started.

Opening all the windows, Yuma dives out the last, making her way to a recognizable pathway. The streets are mainly empty, but she openly makes herself known to those around her so that they won’t cause trouble. Going through the process as usual, she awaits the dark-colored portal in the back alley to appear. Because no matter the time, it always arrives. 

It arrives as she predicted, and as she steps in, she is met with four familiar faces. They stood, hovering around the bar counter, seemingly waiting for her. She smiles shyly, waving the bag that had the miniature bags filled with treats. 

“Sorry for waking you all up so early. I wanted to apologize for my rude behavior a few days ago!” They all looked sleep-deprived, eyes sinking into their sockets–especially the blue-headed man who looked ready to collapse. She places the bag on the counter, taking out the little bags. 

“Since you're always making me something, I made you something. I’m really sorry about what I said, Kuro; forgive me?” He watches as she hands him a bag and lets out a playful sigh, gently taking the gift out of her hand. His gesture made everyone else in the room grab their bag, everyone except Shigaraki. 

“Kurogiri said you might never return–” his voice sounded strained as he weakly dragged himself toward her. “–that you were rethinking our relationship. Don’t abandon me.” He leans his head on her shoulder for support, unable to do much with himself. She chuckles, wrapping her arms around him. 

He lets himself fully be in the moment while everyone is busy digging in the bags, some stuffing their faces while others read the card from inside the bag. The atmosphere that everyone needed finally returned as if it never disappeared in the first place. Shigaraki finally felt himself whole again, ready to grumble and whine. 

Until a loud thud echoed through the room, the sound bouncing off the walls. 

He was annoyed that the moment was interrupted, lifting his head, but his expression couldn’t be made out. His right-hand man, Kurogiri, was lying on the ground, unmoved. The air was frosty; everyone was fully awake. Her grip remained, keeping him in place in her arms, unfazed by the circumstances. 

“What the hell–kurogiri no!” This face-faced, deep voice rips through the air, and just as fast he spoke, it was the same speed as how quickly he hit the ground. There goes Twice, color draining from his face. The only color left was the remains of pudding around his mouth. Shigaraki watched as another one of his men stayed grounded. 

“…What did you do?” He’s finally caught on to the fact that something was terribly wrong, and it was the fault of someone here. Turning to face her for an answer, he’s met with a smiling face. His blood runs cold, and he pushes himself out of her grasp, making his way towards the last standing member. 

“I knew she would cause trouble,” he viciously spits out through his teeth, unable to move an inch. Helplessly unable to help the only one who was able to stand for so long, he watched Dabi’s body go limp, falling off the stool he sat on. 

Frozen in shock, his mind blanks. What just happened? Stuck in his own mind, he fails to notice the fog accumulating in the room. Swirling around his feet, it continued to build up until it could no longer be ignored. But priorities don’t lie in the smoke right now. 

“Did you just…kill everyone? WHY-” He stopped mid-sentence, distracted by the hands that cupped his face and the figure that stood before him. He’s never seen this version of her before, not even a reflection. Her hair turned midnight black compared to the snow white it usually is; her golden eyes gleamed, and her gloves were off. 

He’s never felt the direct touch of her skin before. But the more he dwelled on the facts, the more he realized how weak he felt. His eyelids were getting heavier, and his knees almost buckled below him. 

“This was the only way to save the children and you. I hope you're a pro hero in the next life, my love.” With that, he went limp in her arms, a single tear silently falling from his eye. He may not have understood and died in the unknown, but it was enough to paint herself as the villain in the end. 

To save a villain, you must become the villain. Because there is always a price to love. 

~ Minx

[happy74827]

Made this specially for you @yoursacredqueenmother ☺️☺️

Song: Diamonds and Pearls — QKReign

Movie: Diary of a Wimpy Kid (Trilogy)

Character: Rodrick Heffley

[minxx-winxx]

eternally grateful for talentful friends to endure my dululu 🧚🏾‍♀️✨️

[happy74827]

So I saw some… interesting things, and I just wanted to put out a little reminder to be kind and respectful with writers (especially when requesting something).

Us writers take the time to put out things we enjoy to help give that same enjoyment to others. We don’t have to, but it’s something we want to do. A funny hobby (to give it an explanation).

Please, please, please be patient and respectful when it comes to these things. Being hateful to someone or demanding a request isn’t the way to go about it. In fact, it causes us to despise writing and a lot of writers stop and leave because of it. Unfortunately, I’ve seen a lot of cases with that result. Even some of my favorite writers 😔

So, this goes without saying, writers are human.

We’re all human.

[minxx-winxx]

That's the nicer version, here's the meaner one for you numbskulls who can't seem to understand:

If you are requesting something from someone else, you are in no position to forcefully demand jack shit.

Writers who write as a hobby enjoy the thrill and struggle of the process as well as the aftermath and conclusive results of their hard work. They easily could just stop writing all together.

To sit there, in their inbox with the most audacious statements or request is beyond baffling. Just cause you go the round about way of saying "hurry the hell up" does not make the process go faster.

ESPECIALLY WHEN YOUR REQUEST IS ASS. Bro, if your giving the entire plot on a silver platter and it's shit, literally don't expect your favorite writer to even indulge in the idea. The whole point of request is to give hints, suggestions, or snippets of small ideas for them to turn them into big ideas.

Long story short, think before you speak to others. Don't make an ass out of yourself, because that's taking advantage of others niceness. You might meet others that are not so nice and will absolutely not put up with your audacity.

[minxx-winxx]

Hearts on Pause

Part 2 of Love on Hold

Word Count: 2.6k Media Credit: atp just expect it to be me unless said otherwise lol Caution: tw - mentions of drugs/smoking, alcohol, honesty

The music's bass boomed and echoed through the whole building, lights danced along the walls and bodies pushed between each other. Those who wanted to smoke designated the balcony to themselves, keeping the door closed but the curtains wide open. The strong scent of sweat and alcohol mixed in the air, fumigating the nostrils of everyone who passed by, especially noticeable to those not in the room itself.

Of course, you were no exception to being one of the bodies being pushed about, around the suite you went, dancing with everyone and offering drinks to the thirsty. Checking on the drunk, making sure no one puked in a house plant, and offering them water on behalf of the host. You were barely here for 30 minutes but the “motherly habits” you were so often teased about kicked in. 

Shuffling to stray away from the balcony, you keep to the right side of the suite, walking up the stairs to go find more familiar faces at the top. A voice comes from behind, directly in your unsuspecting ear, “Excuse me but this is a celebration for lawyers and acquaintances respectively, what are you doing here.”

It was more of a sarcastic remark than anything but it didn’t stop you from jolting forward, placing both hands on your ear. Turning around to possibly smack the drunken fool, you could only soften your face and let out a small laughter. Familiar face with the same mountain arching eyebrows that made him impressionable as it did when you first met. 

“Louis, don’t scare me like that!” He gives a sly smile before a laughter ripples out from him as well, walking to your side to be able to speak better. Walking with you the rest of the way up the stairs, the both of you settling your feet on the landing for a few seconds before he puts your hand on his arms to guide you away. 

You chuckle, the common joke between the two of you ripping out like always, “Why thank you, good sir. If you were my lawyer, I definitely think we’d win the case.” 

He pats your hands in response, a toothy smile shows upon his face as the both of you work your way around people to the farthest room down the corridor. He opens the door of the room and makes sure you walk in before he does, closing it behind him. 

In the, surprisingly large, room was found to be your favorites of the firm, and the main character of the party. Donna and Rachel sitting on a sofa against a wall, Jessica on a chair on her own, while Harvey and Mike were sitting on the edge of the neatly put together bed. 

It took them awhile to notice your figure blending and shying away at the door, wanting to not interrupt their conversation. Standing behind Louis, feeling as if you were intruding on some personal lawyer talk. They did, however, notice Louis. Well, Harvey did and everyone else did so after the fact.

“Louis, where’d you go, the party downstairs is more boring than us I bet.” His casual demeanor doesn’t faze you, but now it felt rude not to make yourself known to them that you were there. Poking your head out from the side, you peel yourself away from Louis’ shadow. You give them a small wave. 

“Oh my goodness, girl, you look stunning! Come here, is that from the new line, let me see!” The perky attitude and kindness couldn’t belong to anyone but the world's best law firm secretary. Donna is the only one to notice right away about anything to do with fashion anyways. 

You walk further in the room, past everyone to sit on the other side of the sofa, in the corner between a wall and a window. You face everyone, a small smile settles on your face, feeling comfortable once again. Louis takes a seat on the empty side of the bedding, loosening his tie and leaning back. Donna fangirls a little, admiring the clothing, while you turn to greet everyone. 

“Gentlemen–” giving a nod towards the three on the bed, though you were speaking more to the two you haven’t greeted yet. “Lovely to see you Jessica, you look amazing as always. Rachel, your hair looks as if it’s glistening, love that for you! And yes Donna, this is from the new line, it was a gift.” 

Though each greeting for the beautiful women surrounding you was much longer than the nod you gave the guys, you felt more excited to acknowledge the ones you hung around the most. Jessica, seemingly calm, held a drink in her hand and easily began exchanging pleasantries, as well as Rachel and Donna. 

It wasn’t until you all collectively heard someone cough that four heads turned around in unison to the source of the sound. Harvey. “Of course you’d butt in,” Donna says with a scoff, clearly in a playful manner. He places his hand on his chest, acting offended before his recognizable egotistical smirk plants itself on his face.

“If you girls could remember, the star of the party is right here,” he nudges Mike in the side of the ribs, who’s clearly pouting. Rachel coo’s at the sight, stood up and went to hug him, and slightly tipsy Mike does what he was born to do: be an idiot. Obvious to everyone that he’s out of it, he returns the hug only to proceed to bury his face in her bosom. 

Without a hint of hesitation, she turns her hand into a fist and hits the top of his head. Letting go to soothe the ache on his head, she huffs and sits back down next to Donna, wrapping her arms around her instead. Everyone burst into laughter, a common place that he gets put in his place after messing around with Rachel. 

“So, how have you been? You can’t say terrible, considering you're wearing what you call a gift that’s easily thousands of dollars,” Jessica’s voice rang as our laughter died down, and everyone now glanced towards the subject in question: you. You cock your head, reminiscing of how it’s actually been for you since you’ve last seen all of them. 

“It’s honestly been great, I couldn’t really ask for more right now! I feel like I’m at a good pace in life, and these were gifts, and there are a lot of them,” a chuckle follows after your sentence, you raise your arms to show the black long satin opera gloves you were wearing. Which was also a gift. 

“Is it the same guy?” Rachel chimes in, expecting looks from the other girls. Louis, who knew about half of what they were insinuating also had his head perked up for an answer. Of course, Mike and Harvey were perplexed because they happened to be out of the loop. Harvey cocks his eyebrows in amusement, always here for gossip. You simply nod your head and give a slight shrug.

“Huh? What guy,” Mike says, noticeably getting confused by the second. You give him a knowing look, before speaking up, “Worry less about me and more about how you’ll make up with your lovely girlfriend for the amount of time you spent in jail.” Everyone simultaneously agrees, the whole reason for the party was to celebrate his coming out of jail. Though he shouldn’t have gone to jail, he should not have said a major lie in the first place. 

Plus, it’ll look comedic on his end if he were to be jealous of you getting attention for a guy when you guys already broke things off. It was amicable, no shouting, nothing was thrown, and handled it like adults. Hell, it barely even sunk in at first, it was expected after the sour note it ended on before having to take a break from each other. 

It didn’t seem as if his heart was in it anymore to be honest, it wasn’t in the relationship, it fled the scenes. You exhale, letting out a huff, feeling your mind slowly drifting away from your outside environment. Turning towards the window, your mind races through the corridor of memories. It felt like just yesterday, those fleeting thoughts were rushing in you like a plague. 

The sun kissed down on the skin of the precious people, the leaves danced to the tune of the winds and the world went round. The weather was lovely, a perfect day to spend time in the park, resting on a bench, eating ice cream, loving the company of a loved one. 

But despite this, your emotions were entangled in itself and your body felt like it was floating on a cloud. You were present physically, but mentally and emotionally on vacation in the tropicals for enjoyment. How could such a beautiful day like this shun you due to your past choices? Why were you the one who had to experience turmoil like this?

The sound of bells chime in the background, the scent of fruits and sweetness lingered in the air. The aroma catches the strays of your nostrils at times, snapping you back in just for you to zone right back out. Holding onto the lukewarm cup with both hands, your eyes close in on the dust particles that had fallen directly in front of you on the table. 

Sitting right across from you, where the sun shone the most and the visible dust mocked your sights, was an idiot. A fool. An empty headed dunce who kept you awake and filled you with nothing but worry and anxiety with every passing moment. A simpleton who couldn’t communicate properly and makes hasty decisions.

Who were you kidding, this wasn’t the bathroom mirror. This wasn’t a self reflection. It was just two blockheads who were no better than the other. The one across probably thought so too. A poor soul who had fallen out of love with you, and could not bear to leave you hung on such empty emotions. Clenching on the cup, you force a small smile and lock eyes.

“I understand Mike, hey, don’t be too hard on yourself. If that’s how life works, then so be it. Don’t expect me not to worry about you though,” trying to come off as lighthearted as possible, you await the response. As the tone landed, the visibly tense shoulders began to relax and a short sigh was heard from under their breath. Right, this is the best choice for everyone. 

“Jeez, I don’t know why I got so nervous. I just didn’t want to string you along with the amount of trouble I cause. I have a job now, making big bucks,” he replies in a half hearted joking voice. A grin implants itself on his features, as the pins and needles in your feet begin to bother you. Taking a sip of the cooled down tea, you break the uncomfortable eye contact and look out the large window behind him.

“Rachel, was it? What's she like?” Genuine curiosity, and an unmissed feeling laying on your chest. I mean, you should have the right to know about the woman who somehow swooned the numbskull of his feet in the midst of his stupidity, shouldn’t you?  And it wasn’t as if you didn’t know what she looked like, you’ve visited the office once, you caught a glimpse of everyone. 

“She’s- just amazing in so many ways.” Hearing the softening of his voice, you were afraid of what might have been. Looking straight in his direction, your heart sank to the depths of hell itself. Not only did his voice soften, but so did the facial features typically known to make him look deprived. The grin and rosy colored cheeks are nothing to hide. 

The face of a man who had fallen in love, like he’s happy to reveal his achilles heel for the world to see.

A face you haven’t seen in awhile. The truth settles with a bitter taste, you couldn’t even blame anyone. It was breaking apart on its own, you ought to try and be happy. Even if it were for him rather than yourself. In an attempt to wash down the feeling, you take a sip of the sweet drink in hand. 

Gently placing the cup down, you inhale and glance up, seeing your now ex stare into his hands. Deep in his thoughts since the mere mention of her name, you felt out of place. “If that’s all that you wanted to say, I guess I better get going Mike,” you say as you begin to stand, reaching for your jacket from behind your chair. 

Quicker than you could process, a warmth engulfs your right wrist and halts your motion. Your eyes trail from the spot to the source it came from, Mike, who ‘s sunken doe eyes stared into yours. Baffled at the mere touch, your confused face said it all. He laughs under his breath before slowly removing himself. 

“We’ll still be friends right?” The unexpected question felt like a punch to the gut, covering your face with your hands, having  a laughing fit while quietly losing your mind. You couldn’t say no, because no matter what anyone says, you still held him in special regard. Maybe he just needed better timing considering he just threw your heart in a shredder. 

“Sure, Mike. See you later.” You collected your belongings, threw the jacket over your shoulder and walked away from the table without looking back. Out the door, it chimes with its bells, and the sunlight blinds you with its force of beauty. You let out a heavy sigh, something you hadn’t realized you were holding and walked towards your car. No point in sulking, you still had to report to work for the day.

“Well I’m sorry if we bore you princess, but it is considered rude to ignore others,” a low voice catches you off guard, cutting your daydream to an end. Though everyone busy themselves into conversations with one another, picking up more drinks from the mini side table in the room, one person towered over you. 

You smile to yourself, knowing damn well who was speaking, knowing the familiar shoes that stood in front of you. Playfully scoffing and rolling your eyes, you cross your arms over your chest and your legs over each other, the dress showing off your midthigh due to the slit on the side. The sly smirk slowly reveals itself on his face, his eyes narrow on you and you only. 

“Tempting–”, he takes a seat on the chair near you, leaning forward with his hands clamped together that lie on his thighs. “–Well, aren't you a little collector, wearing his gifts so proudly and mixing them with the jewelry I gave you. So who's this bastard that’s apparently gifting you expensive clothes, cause it wasn’t me.” 

You feel the heat rush to your face, feeling called out. So what if you mixed them, they were gifts so once it was in your hands, you could do whatever you wanted! Sucking your teeth under your breath, you glance in your peripheral, everyone continuing to mingle and down alcohol. 

“At least you know you're a bastard, let it go Harvey.” The slick back brunette chuckles, sitting back into the chair. The laughter sounds as if it were coming from the pits of his stomach. He gestured for you to grab a drink as he does himself. You grab the glass, the night was long, and it was just getting started.

~ Minx

[graceless-writing]

“How’s your WIP going?”

"Have you made any progress?”

“How close are you to being done?”

[happy74827]

This you? @yoursacredqueenmother

[minxx-winxx]

That's you to me everytime @happy74827

[minxx-winxx]

Love on Hold

Word Count: 2.3k Media Credits: me lol (also, this is s1 ep1) Cautions: angst coming through// mentions of threats (half hearted), alcohol, & drugs

《did i write this purely on 2 words my friend texted me...maybe | angst comedy>>> 》

You were going to kill him. You were actually considering annihilating his existence off the face of the earth. If he got drunk, then you could be sympathetic but here your idiotic boyfriend was, high off his ass. More like, sleeping the high off. When he shouldn't be, by a long shot.

   After agreeing to let him ease his way out of using substances, you had to grudgingly let him use those plastic cancer sticks. Only to find out his maliciously persistent nitwit of a "friend" came over when you were working a busy week. With a fucking stash. 

   After a good beating of Trevor to the brink of death, you were going to murder your boyfriend. Who, with a stroke of luck, wasn't wrapped around another woman at the moment. He was fully clothed. Well, clothed enough. 

   Lying down on his stomach, face hanging off the couch, his bare back flashing your eyes. You'd usually be drooling all over the sight if you weren't so livid. With fire set in mind, you kick the couch near his face. 

His body jolts awake, puzzled from the sudden wake that he just kept looking everywhere but you. Until he felt an unbearable chill, in which he turned around and faced you: arms crossed, towering over him. You stare at him, expectant. 

“Michael.” In a deadpan tone, you call out his name, awaiting the absolute bullshit you know will spew from his lips. You could see him visibly shiver. You can't tell if it's from the illicit substance, from being shirtless, or understanding the gravitational pull of the situation he was in. 

Either way, none of those choices were heading to a good place. He turned around, clearly having flashbacks and struggling to keep himself up. “Babe, hold on- it's not what it seems-” he tries to explain, clutching his hands on the hem of your clothes, trying to stabilize himself.

“So you're telling me you didn't do the thing you promised me that you wouldn't even look at, and invited that fuckwad into our place-,” you say, pointing to the guest room where the person you were talking about lied. On the ground, bruised. 

“So you're telling me you didn't ignore my calls and messages all night while doing the thing you swore you could at least rid from your vicinity and not try to find a fix.” 

No amount of genuine excuse could save him at the moment. You knew that old habits die hard, and getting slowly obsessed and addicted to something was harmful so you were taking it slow. But it had been almost 5 months since he was even near that kind of drug yet he hesitated none. 

All the hard work he's done for half the year, down the drain. 

“Listen, baby, it was an honest mistake!” His voice raised to high decimals, trying his best to explain himself. “I know I probably shouldn't have let Trevor, but he was going through a rough patch and I just wanted to comfort a long time friend!”

Hearing him ramble on about this being a “one time thing” and a “comfort tool” to bring peace to his supposed friend was pushing the actual reason you were angry to the side. He wasn't even taking accountability. 

“Mike, do you or do you not remember our first talk about you using this?” This was more of a rhetorical question than anything, you knew he would remember. Not only that, you know that he would never have forgotten. Whether he wanted to or not. 

“You promised me that you’d separate yourself from bad crowds and try your best, for yourself. For me. For Edith!” It seemed you had struck a chord, hearing the name of his grandmother reveal itself from your mouth. He looked up, slightly strained glossy eyes, eye bags visible as ever. 

He looked so haggard to the point you felt the anger subsiding, but you couldn’t hide the bitter taste in your mouth. After some succeeding amount of time passes between the both of you, you sigh and sit on the edge of the coffee table, across from him. Taking his hands into yours and locking eyes, you watch as he slowly calms down. 

“Mikey,” you begin, using familiarity to ease him into the talk about this terrible aftermath. You watch his tense shoulders fall, his body finally relaxing, continuously looking deep into your eyes as reassurance. “I know how harsh I sounded but I really want the best for you. I want to live a life with you by my side, healthy and having something going for yourself.” 

With the start, you both sat in each other’s presence and had a genuine conversation, acknowledging that Mike’s decision making wasn’t the best one. He was book smart, but his street smarts were getting him tangled with things he’ll regret. You just wanted him to be safe and healthy.  

He was going to get through this, with you, together. A team is better than a solo play. No matter how much money you’d have to spend on making him feel better, you were ready to give it all up. For love. 

❣

Love, in fact, does not prevail. Nothing your mother taught you could have given you a heads up for such a disastrous fortune. It started with a chaotic work schedule, driving you to push yourself and working overtime for a week and a half straight. Nevertheless, you thought it'd be fine if you were to recharge yourself by contacting the one you loved the most. 

But…your boyfriend was barely keeping up a conversation, the messages were slowly becoming hours apart. At first you were grateful he was responding at all, the times you could call were only at the worst hours of the day and you barely were able to see him when work was piling up. 

And then, two days went by where you heard not a single thing from him. Paranoid that something had happened to him while he was alone in his apartment, you asked for a half day and rushed to his place. Dangerously swerving through lanes on the highway, you frantically park before rushing inside the building. 

Dashing up the stairs while rummaging through your bag for the spare keys you had, you halted when you found the familiar door number and dropped to the ground, trying to find the keys.

Distressed by not being able to quickly find it, you grew more delirious pulling something out that sounds like the keys just to be disappointed it wasn’t. 

Prepared to overturn the contents of your entire bag on the ground, you hear a click, causing your entity to pause in action. After so, you hear a jingle of keys before the door before you swung open. Standing on the other side of the door frame was your boyfriend, in a suit. 

“Mike- what, what’s going on?” Unable to form any coherent words, he gets startled to find you on the floor, disheveled with your bag in your hands, raised as you were about to empty it out on the ground. Obviously, at first glance, he looked fine. Marvelous even, wearing a suit that made him look like a businessman.

“What happened?!” His initial confusion turned into worry, leaning down to help you up, bringing you inside. Kicking the door closed, he sits you on the couch, fidgeting with a loss of what to do now. Letting the silence carry on as you begin to collect your thoughts, you finally speak up, getting what you need to say in order. 

“Where are you going?” It was a simple question, starting at the most important thing at the moment. The answer would be either extremely bad or celebratorily good, no in-between. He was dressed up and near the door was a small stack of papers. 

“Oh right! I haven’t gotten around to telling you because I wanted to accomplish a win for myself first, to show you that I can do it. Work, I’m going to work.” There was a trail of hesitation between his last few words but you pushed it aside. Work? He did it!

“Mike! Are you serious, that’s awesome!” Colliding yourself into him, you engulf him into a tight hug, heart leaping for joy in your chest. He’s cleaned himself up and found what looks to be a stable job. Or so you thought before you took in what he said. Work? 

“Where are you working?” You didn’t think it was possible, but you couldn’t hide your excitement. It seemed he was taking a day job, which meant it was serious and would keep him busy.

“Uh- Pearson Law Firm, it's a recent hire kind of thing. I haven’t gone in for my first day yet.” A law firm, a big one at that. You couldn’t believe your ears, grinning ear to ear. 

“For what? What’s the position,” you were so proud, countless options passing through your mind but one.

The one that didn’t come to mind somehow found its way out his mouth as he whispered his job position, your body frozen. Silence fell, uncomfortably at that. Gently ungluing yourself from him, you turn your head to face him.

“A…what- did you just say ‘an associate’, as in, you work with the legal team?” You couldn’t believe your ears, there was no way that was possible. He couldn’t possibly be serious, this must be a weird prank. That’s what you thought until you looked at his unwavering eyes. Oh, he wasn’t joking. 

“Mike, you didn’t even go to LAW SCHOOL, what do you mean you're an associate?!” He was getting himself into another mess, your gut was screaming to straighten him out before he got into deep with whatever plot he was scheming with. “How did you even get this position, don’t tell me you threaten someone.”

His head turns so fast he could have injured himself, clamping both his hands on either of your arms. “I may be desperate, but not enough to do such a thing. Besides this all started cause-” he stopped midway, biting his bottom lip and turning away. Now your face fell with a mix of anguish and displeasure.

“Because of what, explain it to me so I can understand. All of it, from the beginning.” 

He lets out a sigh, releasing his grip on your arms and falling back into his previous seating, burying his face into the palm of his hands. An unsettling feeling begins to creep up your spine, you were still unconsciously holding his broken promise at the front of your mind. It’s only been a couple of months since then, but it doesn’t mean he isn’t incapable of it once again. 

And so he explains, from 2 weeks prior, where he went to visit Edith, got caught in Trevor’s plan, to the point where he flew all the way to Massachusetts to visit Harvard Law, and now has come back to prepare for his “first day.” 

No amount of logic could help your brain fully wrap around the entire story, you even having to push him to speak multiple times throughout the story when he stopped to prevent himself from giving you any information. But one thing for sure, you were beyond frustrated and he was a fool. 

“That’s fraud!! Not only is this a crime but this is a felony, you moron! This won’t end in a simple fine Michael, you could possibly face jail time! And not only that, but you needed quick cash so you decided to work for TREVOR, of all people?! Mic-” you paused, giving yourself a breather. 

You could not accept that things had gotten thus far already. He didn’t speak a word of this to you, he hadn’t even hinted he was struggling once. ‘Does he deem me so untrustworthy that he can’t even say that he’s struggling, not even that he needs help,’ your thought raced. 

This wasn’t the first time he’s done things behind your back, and it somehow felt it wouldn’t be the last. You were going to lose your mind if he goes no contact again only for new bullshit to arise in the ranks. You leave him alone and he goes off fucking things up- again. 

You both sat in the grieving, dull quietness of the apartment. A decision had to be made, before the both of you got hurt. You loved him, wholeheartedly, so much so to give your heart. But if he was going to act like this, you’d rather barricade it so that no one could have the knowledge to grab it. 

You couldn’t keep doing this to yourself anymore. No amount of advice could help if he wasn’t going to take it. If being busy is all it takes for him to turn his attention to things he shouldn’t, then you would keep him entertained as much as possible. But someone needed to be a responsible adult, and babying him isn’t the way. 

“We need a break from this Mike, from us.” His eyes widened to the point of no return and you could tell he wanted to grab you again so you stood up, towering over him. Your knees were weak and your face hung low. 

As much as it hurt to think of doing it, saying it felt as if someone reached in your chest and had a chokehold on your cardiac muscle. Feeling your eyes prick with the waters of sadden worries and fear of regretting your decision, you grabbed your shit and shuffled out the apartment. 

Scrambling to leave the building, you unlock your car and hop in the seat, throwing your things to the seat across from you. This was the worst possible outcome of the day. And you still had to return to work. The facets began to leak, until it slowly burst open like a dam built with faulty equipment. You felt like shit. 

All the hard work to make this work, washed down with your worries and sorrows. 

~ Minx

[happy74827]

Prisoner of Love

[S6! Mike Ross x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Making the effort to explain himself, Mike certainly has a lot on his plate, including breaks, not just from jail.

WC: 3205

Category: Slight Angst, Slight Fluff

This was an intrusive thought that I just wrote up last night… so, enjoy! (thanks for your wonderful feedback @yoursacredqueenmother)

『••✎••』

“Mike?”

You were in utter shock to see your friend Mike standing in front of you. Your best friend, the one person who always seemed to be there for you no matter what had turned out to be not only a complete fraud but also now a criminal. You were in such a state of disbelief that you hadn't realized you were standing there, looking at him, with your mouth agape and eyes wide.

After you said his name, you didn't know what else to say. Mike stood there with his hands on the door frame, not wanting to take one step forward and risk coming inside your apartment. He looked nervous, his head darting all over, trying to avoid eye contact with you. His breathing was quick and short as if he had just run a marathon, and his lips were pressed into a fine line, which meant that he was thinking of something to say.

Mike was arrested, he was in jail for two years because of a plea deal, and now here he was, standing in front of you only weeks later like it was any other day.

The silence was killing you. Mike still wouldn't make eye contact, and you were starting to feel the anger boil up inside of you. You felt betrayed. You had spent almost four years working at Pearson-Hardman with him and Rachel, and you considered yourself friends with him and his “on a break” girlfriend, so this came as a huge shock to you. You never saw him as a fraud, never would have suspected it in a million years, but here he was—a liar, a con artist, and now a fugitive.

Mike finally looked up at you, and the first thing he noticed was the tears forming in your eyes. Seeing you cry hurt him, but not as much as the words that came out of your mouth.

"Go away."

His eyes gave away the fact that he clearly was expecting this, but that didn't mean it hurt any less. The blue turned a dark gray, the way they always did when he was upset, and his eyes fell back down to the floor.

"Look, I— I’m not here to make excuses. I know that I just… Don’t you even care to know why I’m here? What happened to me?" He asked, finally finding the strength to keep eye contact.

"Could be more bullshit," you said, folding your arms across your chest and leaning against the door. You didn’t want to admit that you did want to know what happened to him. You were concerned; of course, you were. That was part of the reason you were so upset with him. Even after all that he put you through, the worry for him was still there.

"Can I at least explain myself?" Mike asked, and you rolled your eyes at his question.

"You already did, Mike. Well, everyone except me, apparently. You, Rachel, Harvey, Jessica, Louis. All of you knew about this, but I didn't. And why is that?"

"I told you I didn't want you to get involved," Mike replied. “You don’t deserve to go down for my mistakes. It was selfish of me to do that, I know that, but I thought I was protecting you."

"Yeah, well, you just stabbed me in the back instead," you said.

"Can I come inside? I only have so much time before—"

"Oh, so you’re protecting me again?" You asked, not waiting for an answer. "By breaking out of prison and coming to my place. I don't even want to think about what would happen to me if someone found out I'm hiding a fugitive!"

"I’m not—” Mike took a second to compose himself and start again. He couldn’t blame you for being so mad, not after everything he did. "I didn’t break out. I got released… sort of. It’s a bit messy, but to sum it up, I’ve got six hours with an ankle monitor."

"Then why are you here? Why not with Harvey?" You asked. "Or Rachel? I'm sure she’d be glad to see you, and she's better equipped to handle this."

"’Cause we need to talk. Now, can you let me inside, please? I’m feeling a little exposed out here," he said, his hand motioning towards the outside hallway.

Jokes. Of course, he would use jokes at a time like this.

“… Fine. You have an hour, tops. Then you have to leave," you said, taking a step back to let him inside.

Mike wasted no time stepping into your apartment, and as soon as you shut the door, his hands were on your shoulders, and he was pulling you into him. Your eyes went wide, and you had no idea what was going on. It was only when you felt his wet cheek against your own that you realized he was crying.

"I missed you," Mike said. “So so much."

It was like your brain went on autopilot, and suddenly, your arms were around him, and you were squeezing him tight. It was like nothing had changed. It was like no time had passed since you had last seen him, and it was so overwhelming that it had brought tears back to your eyes.

"I missed you too," you said, your voice quiet and barely above a whisper.

Mike pulled away from the hug but still had his hands on your shoulders. He was smiling at you, and his eyes were no longer that dark gray they were before but back to that bright blue.

"I’m sorry I never got to explain why I did what I did," Mike started, his voice a little shaky. "I wanted to tell you, I really did, but I couldn't. I didn’t want to put you in that position."

"But you were able to tell Rachel, Donna, and even Louis?" You asked.

"To be fair, Rachel figured it out on her own, and Donna knew from the moment I started working at Pearson-Hardman."

"What about Louis?"

"That was a whole different thing," Mike said, chuckling a bit. "He was a bit… theatrical, to say the least."

"But that still doesn't explain why you were able to tell them but not me."

At this, he looked away from you, his head turning and looking out the window. The night sky was beautiful, the way the full moon shone, and how the city lights made everything glow, including his face. The reflection of the moon against his skin made his eyes stand out, and the streetlights made him look like he was glowing.

"I knew you would understand," he finally said. "You would be the one person to listen to me and actually give me a chance, and I was afraid of that. If I had told you, I would've been afraid of what would've happened, and I would've probably ended up convincing myself to leave."

"Leave and do the right thing," you said.

"Maybe. But it doesn't matter. I'm here now, and we're talking," he said, the corners of his mouth turning up into a small smile. “I’m making up for it now."

"Yeah, yeah," you said, rolling your eyes. You couldn't help but smile as well.

"But, there's one other reason why I didn't tell you. And it's not because I didn't trust you, because I trust you more than anyone. It's just that I— I—" Mike stopped himself, taking a moment to figure out his words. His eyes were looking everywhere, but at you, and the more he avoided your gaze, the more concerned you became. "I just, I wanted to protect you. Because I—"

Before he could finish, a knock came from the door. Mike looked at the clock, and the time read 2:04 AM. Who would be visiting at this time? You didn't have to wonder long as Mike's watch started to beep, and the knock became a more forceful bang.

"Mike, let's go!" Someone yelled from the other side of the door. A very familiar voice, too.

"Who is that?" You asked.

Mike ignored your question, instead walking towards the door. His hand was on the knob, and he took a deep breath, preparing himself.

The door flew open as soon as he opened it, and a very angry Harvey Specter stood on the other side.

"Where the hell have you been?" He asked.

"Calm down, Harvey. I was with her," Mike said, motioning towards you. "We were catching up."

"Catching up? Mike, do you not care about getting out of this mess or not? I told you I had a plan, but if you go running off on your own, it's not gonna work."

"Oh, is this another one of your great plans? The ones I get left out of?" You asked, moving past Mike and standing between him and Harvey.

Mike practically face-palmed himself when he heard you speak up. This was definitely not the way he planned things to go. Just as he finally was on the path of making things right, things went downhill once again.

"I would be happy to explain the details of the plan to you if someone," he glanced over at Mike, who looked down at his feet, "cared to follow it. Now, can we get going? The car and Cahill are waiting."

"Five minutes, Harvey.”

"Mike,” Harvey said, his tone showing how frustrated he was becoming.

"Five. Minutes."

Another minute was wasted with the two men staring each other down, and the air was filled with tension. It was a stare-off, and neither seemed like they were going to back down. You stood there, watching and wondering whether you should make an escape or not, but were too intrigued to move.

Harvey broke the silence with a sigh, his head dropping.

"Fine. But if you aren’t downstairs in five minutes, I'm dragging your ass down whether you like it or not."

And with that, Harvey turned around and walked away with that sense of confidence he always seemed to have. You watched him until he turned the corner, and when you turned back, Mike was smiling.

"What are you smiling about? Your best friend is still mad at you," you said. It came out more sarcastically than you had hoped, but you didn't really care at this point.

“Are you? Still mad, I mean," he asked, ignoring your snarky remark. “It seems like you aren’t."

"I am. I still feel hurt, but I can't stay mad at you. You know how much I suck at staying mad at people," you said.

"It’s a problem, yeah."

"Hey!" You exclaimed, hitting him on the shoulder.

"Well, it is. You have a tendency to let people walk all over you and forgive them for the shitty things they do. Which, might I add, is not always the right thing to do."

"So, I shouldn’t forgive you? Logic isn’t really logicking, Michael," you said, raising an eyebrow and smirking.

"It is, and that’s not a real word," Mike laughed. “Besides, Michael? When did that start happening?”

"You’re the one with the photographic memory. Shouldn’t you know?"

Now you were both laughing. Like the good old days, the two of you would sit in his office or at his apartment, cracking jokes and laughing about the most ridiculous things: movies, TV shows, music, whatever.

You missed this. You missed him.

"I have to go," Mike said, the smile not leaving his face.

"Yeah," you said, the same sad smile on your lips. “Hey, is uh… is prison any fun?"

"Why, you wanna come visit?" Mike asked, chuckling a bit. You could tell he was faking his laugh, though. He was putting up a front, trying to seem like everything was okay when it clearly wasn’t.

"No, I mean… You’re okay, right? Harvey’s been talking about this Gallo guy, and it seems pretty bad," you said.

"I’m okay. I’ll be okay," Mike said, placing his hands on your shoulders. You couldn't help but notice how cold his hands were, and he couldn't help but notice the sadness in your eyes.

"Don’t look at me like that," he said.

"Like what?"

"Like that. The thing that you do when you know that something bad is going to happen," Mike said.

"You can't know that for sure," you said, your eyes not meeting his.

"But I do. Look at me."

You lifted your head, and his eyes bore into yours. It was almost as if he was trying to look straight into your soul.

"I will be fine. I promise. As long as you're not mad at me," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Can you do that for me?"

"Of course, Mike," you said, staring into his blue eyes. They were brighter than ever despite the situation.

Mike's hand reached up to cup your cheek, and at first, you thought he was just wiping away a tear, but he didn’t move. He just kept his hand there, and his gaze never left yours.

"Mike..."

He was staring at your lips, and his eyes had a look in them you had never seen before. It was almost like a hunger, a longing for something.

"Yeah?" He asked, his voice just as quiet.

"What are you doing?"

Mike moved his head closer to yours, and the distance between you was getting shorter.

"Mike," you said again, and he finally looked back into your eyes. The longing look was still there, but this time it was more prominent, and there was a slight fear. “What about Rachel?"

Mike's thumb stroked your cheek, and he let out a long breath, closing his eyes.

"She knows."

"Wha—"

But you couldn't finish because, in a split second, Mike's lips were on yours. His kiss was soft, and his hands were pulling you in closer. Your arms found their way around his neck, and one hand ran through his hair, which was much shorter than before. It didn’t take long for him to part his lips and allow your tongue to meet his.

Your heart was racing, and the butterflies in your stomach were going crazy. This wasn’t like any of the other kisses you had before, not like the quick, rushed kisses you shared with your ex or the ones that felt like dead weight against your lips.

This kiss was perfect. A well-crafted masterpiece that was made to make you feel loved. You didn’t realize just how badly you needed a kiss like this. You didn't know that was what was missing, but now that you had it, you realized how empty you were without it.

And when the two of you finally pulled apart, Mike was smiling. It was a big, genuine smile that lit up his face and made his eyes bright. It was a look that could light up a dark room.

"Rachel and I talked a lot while I was inside, and we decided that... that she deserved better. I couldn’t give her the life that she deserved. She was still stuck with me, even when I was away. We were both miserable, and it was time to put an end to it," he said, and a sad smile made its way onto his face.

"So…”

"She's okay. Really. She also knows about how much you mean to me, and she's okay with this."

"Really?" You asked, raising an eyebrow.

"She also told me a wonderful piece of information about how you apparently love me."

"You did not just—"

"I did, and now we have to talk about that."

"Nope," you said, popping the 'p.' "You have a prison to go to and a plan to complete. So, get going. You've already wasted enough time."

"Aw, but I love talking about how much you like me," he said, a teasing smile on his face.

"Out."

Mike's smile widened, and he gave you one last quick kiss.

"Okay. I'm going."

Mike took a few steps towards the door, but then turned back to look at you. He didn't say anything, but instead just stared. He didn't have that hungry look in his eyes anymore, but a more content look.

Like he was taking in the last few moments he would have with you. A picture in his mind to cherish, and to remember you by.

"Mike?"

He took a deep breath, and looked at the floor, preparing himself for the next few moments.

"I don’t regret anything. And, if I had a chance to go back and do things differently, I wouldn’t change a single thing. Except maybe not getting caught," Mike said, his laugh coming out dry. "But, besides that, I don't regret any of it. Everything that happened, the people I've met, and the things I've done. The only thing I regret is not telling you sooner… about my feelings. How much I care for you. But, I want you to know that, I would do everything a million times over. If I knew that, in the end, it would lead me here, to this moment, with you, I would do it.”

He paused, and took another breath. It was clear he was struggling with his words, and the way he was looking at the ground showed that he was trying his best not to cry.

"I just wanted to tell you all of this before I go because I don’t know what will happen next. When I see you next, you know? I'm I just— I needed you to know, and I hope that, wherever I end up, and whatever happens, I’m glad we worked things out. At least, a little bit.”

You just stared. You knew Mike could feel your eyes on him, and that he probably didn’t like the silence, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything. Instead, you just took in everything that was him.

He was standing in the doorway, his hands in his pockets. He looked so casual, despite the fact that he was about to go off to prison… well, not at that moment— but soon. It was like it was a normal day, and he was just hanging out with his friends.

His blue eyes were no longer on the floor, and instead were back on you. He gave you one last small, sad smile, before turning around and leaving the apartment.

You watched as he turned the corner and disappeared from your view. It was quiet, the only sounds were your own breathing and the sounds from the city below. You could hear the cars driving by, and the faint sound of sirens in the distance.

Everything was so different now. Everything was so strange.

Before, your world revolved around Mike. No matter what, he was always there. He was the thing that held you together and what tore you apart. And, for the past couple of months, everything had fallen apart. You were in a state of chaos, and nothing was right.

And yet, in just a matter of minutes, everything changed.

You weren’t sure if everything would work out, and you weren't sure what the future held. But, at least now, things were back to how they should be.

Or as close as they could be.

[minxx-winxx]

if this ain't from an actual episode, I would've called you a liar, this shit is so damn accurate

[minxx-winxx]

Antics with Romantics

Word Count: 2.2k Caution: quick mention of weapons and..... fluff? idk man || Shoutout to @stop-talking for that one poll they did, this is entirely your plot, I just enacted it into reality ♡ although I'm not great at writing angst-

《how the apartment's structured, i need y'all to physically see what i imagined》

Silence in itself is a silent killer. Always the loudest sound pulsating itself through the ears of the innocent. In the car, studying in a library, through the residing space of your personal comfort. The more it crept in hauntingly, the more it caused uncertain paranoia, causing jitters and uncomfortableness. 

Having to deal with the impending feeling of eerie death, a decision needed to be made. And so it was, the place needed to be filled to the point of everything but silence. Filling your place with junk wasn’t going to work, you weren’t willing to spend so much money just to regret it later. Especially when one of your favorite bands is dropping a new album soon. 

Then it hits you, you have a spare room that’s currently being used as a linen closet for random shit you’ve decided should be in your possession. You could just find someone to rent it out, like a tenant! Posting an open application online, after making sure your own landlord was cool with it, you wait. And wait, and wait…

It seemed like a hopeless case, and according to a friend it seemed like a scam, until you sat down at your desk and opened your email to something unexpected. A submitted application. In complete and utter shock, you grab your mouse and click on it, reading it through. Some mid-twenty year old guy and a kid? 

Whatever, it works!

Without a second thought, you dive onto your bed, rummaging through your bag for your phone. Feeling the familiar cold metal, you pull it out and flip it open, making your way back to the open computer where you input the number on screen and dial it in. One ring, two rings—

“Hello, Schmidt residence,” a cheery girl on the other end of the phone, seemingly making it clear that they weren’t an adult. But it was cute nonetheless, causing you to let out a small chuckle. Even without being able to see her face, you could tell by her gasp that she was ecstatic to hear someone on the phone who seemed to entertain her greeting.  

“Hey, is ‘Mike Schmidt’ home? I’d like to talk about the application for the open room in my apartment.” Before you could receive a reply, you heard her shout for the man you were looking for. As you waited nervously, you began pacing around your room, hearing all the shuffling on the other line. 

It wasn’t until a raspy voice rang in your ear that you were certain the little girl handed the phone. “I’m Mike Schmidt.” Catching you completely off guard, you try to compose yourself by sitting on the edge of your bed. You place the phone down to inhale and exhale twice, before picking it back up to speak with composure. 

“Hey, yeah, I’m calling about the available space in the apartment you applied for. You're a very strong candidate but I thought it would be better for you to check it out before making any final decisions. Just in case, ya know?” The last part came off as a reassurance, so he didn’t feel pressured to do anything. 

“Does this Friday work, in the afternoon?” You both spent the next five minutes collecting information from each other, then exchanged pleasantries before hanging up. You sat in silence for a while, soaking in everything that just occurred before abruptly standing up. 

Friday. In three days time, both Mike and the kid, whom you found out was his sister, were going to make their way over. You haven’t gotten a single clue what to wear to impress them both, not a clue what to feed them, and definitely haven’t cleaned around the apartment. Dear Lord.

☆*: .｡. ❁ .｡.:*☆

It seemed as if someone put the days passed on double speed, how it seemed you did so much in so little time. Considerably so, realizing you kept getting distracted whenever you left the place by things that you think would appeal to younger girls. Obviously, you didn’t know if she would vibe with your style so you had to observe around you. 

In the end, you bought a large amount of groceries, more clothes, new eyeliner, and a present for the both of them. Regardless if they decide to move in, of course. Mike said they’d be there around three, four at the latest. With the time in mind, you woke up extra early, barely enough sleep running though your system, to make the final touches and began cooking. 

You were by no means a three star Michelin chef but you did try your best and that’s all that mattered. Placing the food, covered, on the small round dining room table, you give it a satisfactory glance before looking at the time. 1:32pm (13:32), giving you about an hour and thirty to get ready. 

Tossing the apron in the hamper, you quickly strip off your clothing and rush into the bathroom. Stepping into the shower and letting the water warm itself up, you made sure to grab the shampoo to wash your hair. 

After a good solid thirty minutes in the shower, you wrap yourself in a towel and step out, swiftly taking a seat in what you call your ‘beauty chair’, which was in the bathroom for when you needed to do hair or makeup. Grabbing the blow dryer, you sat there maliciously making sure every strand was dry enough to the point of comfort. 

Realizing how tactical you were making it, and how much time was probably wasted, you finish applying the products to your hair and dash out the bathroom. Eyeing your outfit lying perfectly on the bed, you began to dress, struggling a little with the chains on your pants. 

Shoving your feet into your slippers, which don’t necessarily go with the vibe your upper body was going with, you began picking up after yourself and walked back into the bathroom to do the finishing touches. Light eyeliner and lip gloss, can’t scare them off just yet. 

Playing music to pass the time, you didn’t have to wait long to hear the sound of knocking echoing through the walls of the apartment. It was 3:20pm (15:20). Lowering the volume, you quickly stride toward the front door, looking into the peep hole. Well, it certainly was a rugged looking man and a kid alright. 

Unchaining the hatch, you slowly open the door, revealing yourself when the door is half way open. “Mike, right? And little Abby, welcome,” you try to play off the situation coolly, but your nerves could say otherwise. You push yourself to the side, giving them space to enter, gesturing to them to come in and take a seat. 

“Cool!” Both of you glance toward the captivated girl who could probably break her neck while looking around the living room. You suppress back a laugh, closing and locking the door behind them. Letting them get comfortable, you move yourself in the kitchen to grab the covered item of what you prepared: tea for both you and Mike, juice for Abby, and small nibble snacks. 

Walking back to the living room carefully, you set the tray down and began pouring tea in the mug for Mike, and setting tea cups in front of you and Abby, making sure to give her the juice and shifting the tray to the middle. Now with the snacks in everyone’s reach, you finally properly looked at Mike. 

“So, what made you apply for the rooms…Mr.Schmidt?” You hadn’t really established exactly what you’d call him but you didn’t want to seem disrespectful. Looking at his expression, you could tell that was a wrong move. His face scrunched and his eyes shut quickly. He definitely cringed. 

“Just, Mike is fine. And uh, I wanted a change of pace and environment for me and my sister. Trying to get my life back in order,” he says, eyes slowly making their way to his precious sister who he watches eat the snacks one by one. 

Your eyes follow him, watching him as he watches his sister, his expression softened.  Despite the cute moment, you felt as if the sudden silence was cutting through your lungs and making its way up your throat, ripping out from you, “would you like to check out the available rooms?” 

Before Mike could butt in, you receive an eager nod from Abby, mouth busy working on eating as many snacks she could. With a breathly chuckle, you stand up and walk to the room by itself on one side of the kitchen. Swinging the door open, you reveal the biggest room in the apartment. 

“This is the 2nd largest room in the apartment, currently unoccupied by anyone,” you explain as you lean on the door frame, watching them examine the room. Walking down the small hall, passing the kitchen, are three doors. You stop when you reach the doors, explaining what they were without giving Mike a single look. 

The one on the right leads to the bathroom, the one on the left leads to your room and the one directly in front of you was the other empty room. Opening the door to the other unoccupied room, you leave it open, as your room door was left ajar. 

Letting Abby explore both the rooms, watching her little legs travel through the hall to compare each thing in the rooms individually. Mike, who was leaning on the wall, turns to your direction and gives you a small smile. You give a small smile back, out of politeness before he decides to speak up. 

“So why would you decide to rent out these rooms, you don’t seem to be in any financial struggle?” The question stuns you, you hadn’t expected him to ask because you hadn’t known exactly how it spiraled to this extent either. 

“Uh, sometimes the silence is too loud? The presence of others just seemed welcoming,” you try to dumb down the reason, not wanting to seem insane for the lengthy incentive you had to come to this conclusion. Although unconvinced, he simply raised his eyebrow and brushed it off. Continuing to go back and forth, you both talked until even Abby tired herself out. 

“Right, it’s getting late. We should start packing ourselves up,” Mike says, watching his sister lie flat on the floor of the first room they’ve seen. In a panic, you grab his wrist as he turns to walk away. Promptly letting go of his arm, you give an awkward laugh to clear the air. 

“Sorry about that. But, would you like to stay for dinner? You wouldn’t be a bother, no worries,” you reassure him before he could question if he was overstaying his comfort. With the help of Abby, he was convinced enough to stay. Enthusiastic about them staying, you gesture them to the dining table where you uncover the things that have kept you busy all morning. 

“Let’s dig in!” You sit yourself in a corner, leaving the seating arrangements to be made by instinct, watching them with looks of awe as they take a seat next to each other. ‘If mother saw this arrangement, she would never believe that I made it,’ you thought to yourself, smug. 

As the dinner progressed, it was filled with light conversation, jokes, and slight laughter here and there. Even when it fell silent, the silence wasn’t so deadly but rather something that was comforting and soothing to the soul. Near the end of the dinner, you excuse yourself for a moment only to return with two boxes in hand. 

“I kinda bought presents, it's okay if you don't like it but I tried my best,” you say as you hand Mike his small box and go to hand Abby her box, slightly larger than Mike’s. You watch as her face beams with delight, ready to open up hers immediately. 

Seeing her tear through all the protective plastic inside, she finally pulls out the gift you found so hard to decide on. A musical trinket, with a ballerina dressed in gold and white, matching with her little stand. Pressing the button at the bottom, the sound of pure bliss unholds in their ear before it repeats once more and then slowly fades out. 

“I love it!” You let out a sigh of relief, thanking that you were in tune with music more than children at the moment. You were so focused that you hadn’t realized Mike had opened his gift and already fixed it into a permanent place.

It wasn’t until you heard the jingling of keys that you turned around to see him holding up his gift; a keychain of small weapons as charms. There was a gun, a knife, an axe, and a bat. “Its cute? Thanks, for everything today.” 

Wrapping up and cleaning up the table –with the help of Mike– the day came to an end and you were bidding the pair goodbye. “Today was fun! I like the first room, I call dibs,” Abby exclaims, causing you and Mike to laugh. Before fully leaving, he turns and leans on the door. 

“Expect a call before Monday, I really did enjoy today and the rooms look great.” With that, he follows his sister’s heel, and they both begin to leave your sight. Closing the door, you crash into your couch, content and exhausted. Ya know…

The silence seems rather quiet this evening.

~ Minx

[janitorhutcherson]

not to be anything more than an unserious silly jhutch fan account but like i love love letters so much. they are so pretty and personable. yes, please spill all of your thoughts and feelings about me onto a pretty page that’s wrinkled from the way your hand rested on it as you wrote the words in your own unique way. let me reread it hundreds of times and notice a new divot and squiggle in your lines each time.

i love love i love old love i love good tender romantic sweet intimate love

[minxx-winxx]

I thought it was just me and my friends! I'm not much of a verbal communicator, socializing is exhausting.

love letters convey so much from the mind that couldn't be said out loud.

and if there's a kiss mark next to or [even better] on top of the signature?! take my heart, have it!

[minxx-winxx]

Whispered Betrayal

Word Count: 822 Caution: just straight hurting; nothing but angst I tried a different format, hope you guys like it??

《In the heat of current emotions, here is angst (@happy74827 be proud of me)》

" What if I feel as if I can't do what I promise myself I should do while watching from behind how my friends are moving on with their dreams in life? "

"....why do you have to reach where everyone is? Everyone moves at a different pace, and so are you, love. I know your shoulder weighs heavy with the burden but I know you've done your best."

" That's not it, I just don't know what to do with myself anymore. Why is everything so difficult?! "

"First off, let's begin by not stressing ourselves out and comparing ourselves to friends-"

" WELL AT LEAST THEY'RE MOVING! I AM STUCK, I'VE BEEN STUCK IN THIS STUPID SPOT FOR FOREVER! I HAVEN'T MOVED FROM THIS SPACE! I'VE DONE NOTHING BUT CONTINUOUSLY BE MISERABLE! YOU WOULDN'T GET WHAT THAT FEELS LIKE, NOW WOULD YOU?! WHY IS THAT?! "

It dawned on the male figure how loud they were, hearing their words echo through each room, bouncing off the walls. The room fell silent, no longer was there any retaliation or words thrown. Those last few words spiked the air and suffocated them as they sat in the essence of the venom.

The room itself began to expand, extending to no end and the darkness hovered over his head like a blanket. Eyes unfocused and throat parched, inner mouth felt drier than the Sahara desert. No longer able to portray his eyes one way, he couldn't explain the straight facial expression of the other.

Taken aback by his own actions, the nerves in his system go haywire, and his breathing becomes shallow and deep. His physical body had shaken itself to a halt with his words, realizing what he truly said.

He didn't mean to raise his voice. By any means. Shakingly, he reaches his hands out, expectantly.

" B-baby, my voice- I didn't mean-"

His gesture wasn't received, pushed to the side with a gentle touch. Oh, how his soul began to crumble at the sight. Limbs going numb, they flop to the bedside, fingertips clawing themselves into the sheets. It felt as if the world was spinning around, too fast for his brain to process.

"It seems like- until you could get your shit together, it would be best for us to have some space. I don't want to add to your stress, and I definitely do not want to stay here to say anything I might regret."

With that, they glanced his way once more before shifting themselves off the bedding, sitting up, and slipping the slippers on that laid themselves in front of their feet. His heart felt as if it were trapped in a compressed box that kept getting smaller over time.

Watching as the back of his beloved continuously stretched farther and farther away, he simply rushed to his feet and instinctively followed. Out of the room, through the corridor bumping into walls, towards the living room that spaced itself near the front door.

His hands reacted before he knew it, stopping the coat grab after watching the keys be picked up from his lonely place on the side table. No matter what, he saw nothing but black, his emotions overtaking reality, no longer able to distinguish the facial aspect of human character.

"Don't forget your responsibilities, I hope you don't forget you do not live alone, take care of yourself."

A small touch landed on his forehead, short and simple, and as he watches the body of his beloved pull away, his entire world shattered from the lack of warmth. Droplets of his self-esteem begin to pour as he reaches for the nonexistent warmth implicated in him.

His eyes trailed after the figure as they reached for the door, sucking in a breath and giving him a glance once more. The narrow eyes that digested him whole caused his knees to buckle under him as he fell to the ground with nothing to hold.

But his eyes remained themselves on the figure of true virtue, wanting nothing more but to hold on. And he watches the lips of his sweetheart move, and then straighten into a line before nothing faced his eyes but the peeling paint on the back of the front door.

The mouthed words, 'I love you, Mike,' was what he clocked.

Even in this situation, he felt like a complete fool for the crimes he committed against someone who didn't deserve it. He felt as if he didn't deserve what he was getting, but he continuously received as he never gave. No matter the situation, he was in the wrong.

He felt even more pathetic, having the audacity to even shed tears when his beloved did their best to cheer him till the end. Left with no tears, keeping their cool. Breaking down on the ground, he held onto his chest and cried as much as he could.

For the sake of the person he wounded, who wishes him well.

~Minx

[minxx-winxx]

Uncovering Love's Illusions

Word Count: 2.3k [2370] Media Credit: @logray Caution: slice of life, platonic love, rejection (if ya can't handle that) [sometimes you don't need to find love, patiently waiting for yours is alright]

Sometimes life is all about making mistakes and learning from it. We’re all human, we all make stupid mistakes here and there. We’ll say something we shouldn’t have, do things we shouldn’t do, that’s what makes us who we are. But this- you should have thought this one through. 

It all started when you were hanging out with a close group of friends from way back when, sitting directly in the middle of a booth you all decided to take in the cafe. Squished in between everyone while waiting for the food to arrive, conversation strikes every which way. Until, the conversation shifted to romance, particularly romantic love. 

“When are you going to finally mingle with someone dude! You are literally the only person in the group that’s still single,” a friend from one end of the booth exclaims, everyone nodding in agreement with the statement. You felt put on the spot, it wasn’t as if you didn’t want someone to love, but now hearing it out loud, you felt slightly embarrassed. 

Laughing it off awkwardly, you jokingly tell them to shove their face away from your business. No one thought less of it, and everyone went back to making fun of each other. Unbeknownst to you, it stirred something deep in you, like a bothersome feeling that doesn’t go away. You watch as the waitress comes over with the plates of food so you threw the feeling off to the back of your mind for later. 

It wasn’t until you all finished your food, paid, and began walking towards the parking lot that you had really sunk your brain into the words you heard earlier. Walking behind the entire group, watching the couples walk hand in hand, hand on shoulder, hand guiding their waist. It was evident that you, who was walking in the back and alone, were lacking in something.

Maybe you just needed to find someone to date. Yeah, that’s it! You racked through your brain, trying to remember all the single people you knew from anywhere. Images of faces flash through your mind until it stops on one familiar face. Lots of people liked him, many women at work definitely crushed over him, he was attractive and caring. 

You felt your face heat up at the thought of it, feeling your heart begin to beat out of control. ‘I must have had a crush on him without realizing, ugh, I’m such an idiot,’ you think to yourself, eyes glued to the ground. You feel a chill creep up your spine and you halt in motion, glancing around before looking up to see a bucket on the edge of someone’s terrace. 

Not saying a word, you give your friends a glance to see if any of them had noticed you stopped, they hadn’t and were engaged in conversation. Thanking the Gods, you shoot your spiderwebs to pull a chair from nearby towards you, as you watch the bucket teeter until it falls downwards. 

With nothing in it, you simply grab the bucket with your webs and place it on the chair, walking away slowly to catch up with the group who began to notice your absence. You play it off as being left behind to tie your shoes, pushing them to keep walking forward. As you guys finally make it to the vehicles, you make a mental note to do something about your relationship status yourself.

♡

Walking through HQ, throwing a few smalls and nods along the way, you read the center base of the entire building. In your peripheral, you see a familiar silhouette of a lengthy person with a guitar strapped across their chest and spiky dome. Without even looking at his face, you could immediately tell who it was. 

Hobie Brown. Spider punk from earth 138. 

Anxiously sweating, you unconsciously clutched your bag in your hand in worry anything and everything in it will be spilt everywhere and discovered. Nervously, you approach where he stood, glancing over his shoulder to finally be able to see that he was speaking to Pavitr, aka his pal Pav. Not wanting to interrupt them, you keep a minimal good distance from them and wait along the sidelines. 

“I’m just sayin- oh hey!” Pav’s cheerful voice spills towards your direction, Hobie turning his head towards you, suddenly feeling small, you slowly shrink into yourself. You hated the amount of attention you were getting from the both of them, so you tried being as polite as possible, keeping your voice from shaking. 

“Just wanted to say…er- give- something to Hobie, nothing too important.” Pav, surprisingly, turns on his heel and without another word, winks at Hobie proceeding to walk away. The immense pressure you felt, just being alone with Hobie, was something no one could underestimate. Instead of using your words, you reach your hands into your bag and shove it into his hands. 

A letter. Something that took you almost three full days to complete and decorate since the friend meet-up. It was more than embarrassing, you were happy you weren’t doing this in the middle of the entire HQ and he was placed in a corner all on his own. Without realizing it, you became hyper aware of your surroundings, setting yourself on edge. 

“Calm down before you set off someone’s senses, yea?” Hobie joking around, even in this situation, was mind boggling. ‘Must be why I like him so much,’ you thought to yourself, watching as your body began to calm down on his command. You watch in silence as he fiddles around with the letter, touching the decorative items you placed on it. 

“Shouldn’t I read this in private? Or jus’ read it here,” Hobie inquired, wanting nothing more than to open the letter. He could already guess what was written, but that didn't stop his curiosity though. You shook your head, then realized it wasn’t answering his question and spoke up, “Either way is fine. I just would like a response by…the end of the week?” 

It was currently a Tuesday, so he had about four days left in the week to read and respond to you. You thought it was enough time, slowly turning around and preparing to walk away to complete actual work. The sudden grip on your shoulder startles your movements, your head pans to the body that the hand belonged to. 

“Hold on now love, let’s do this right now. Bit silly to wait so long, c’mere,” he motions for you to follow him out the central room. Confused, you trail behind his heel, going through twists and turns before coming to a weird corner in HQ where it seemed as if someone cut out a large cube from the wall. Hobie sat down, keeping his lengthy legs out of the insides. 

“Take a seat, I’ll be reading this first.” He waves the letter before gesturing his head for you to sit inside the wall. Climbing in, you sit with your back to the opposite wall he leaned on, feeling as if there was more space in the wall than it led on. Now, with no one around at all, you felt more comfortable. 

Watching as he carefully opens the letter, trying to keep the envelope intact, you see a small smile form on his face. ‘Okay, a good sign!’ It was less nerve wracking than you initially thought as you waited for him to completely finish reading the letter. He lowers the letter into his lap, turning his head towards you, his wicks move along with the motion. 

“What is it that you like bout me? Hm?” The question caught you off guard, especially after watching him read the entire letter. Did he just skim the paper for the past few minutes? You were going to laugh but the stare he was giving you made you realize he was being serious.  “Wha…your funny! Super kind to others and really attractive,” you say in disbelief, confused why he was asking the question he read the answers to. 

“You aren’t in love with me,” he bluntly responds, the corners of his mouth tug into a smug smile. Leaning back, he props himself on his palms, tilting his head to an angle as he continues locking eyes with your widen ones. Your mouth was screwed shut, slightly in shock. You lean forward, leaving enough space between the two of you as your hands lie in your lap. 

There wasn’t much that came to mind, but your mouth simply followed the script of your thoughts that lined the walls of your mind. “Hobie, I literally wrote a letter about my feelings for you and your invaliding them.” You frown, feeling as if his attitude towards your letter was less than kind. Truth to be told, you thought he was taking a piss at you right now. 

“You don’t seem to be in love with me. Your letter hasn’t stated a single generously, deep from the heart confession. You're in love with the idea of being with me.  There’s a difference between the two, love.” You’ve gone quiet, your frown turning into a straight line as your brows unfurrow themselves, mind going blank at his words. You should scoff, tell him he’s wrong, get up and walk away in a fit of anger. 

But you couldn’t refute his words. Were you really in love with Hobie? You only decided to confess because he was the only eligible person who met the standards you wanted. But, you were fine before being single, why did it suddenly change with a few loose words? All because of some silly words from a friendly joke. 

You close your eyes and inhale slowly, burying your face into your hands, wanting to disappear from the world. Wow, this was majorly embarrassing, you never thought of him in a romantic way. You just dug too deep in your head, feeling that being single was something wrong because everyone else around you wasn’t. 

Hearing a low chuckle vibrate through him as you feel his hands reach your hands, peeling them away from your face. Losing all strength in your body, you simply let your arms fall whichever way he wanted as you watch Hobie grab them in his. He gives a soft grin, gazing into your eyes as he draws circles on the back of your hands. 

You were okay with the touch, because you were used to that kind of gesture. Your friends were all physical people who loved to show their affection in physical ways, so this gesture wasn’t sending butterflies in your stomach. You felt as if your soul was crumbling right in front of him, his gaze helping shed light to your initial self doubt. 

There was absolutely no way you could imagine being in a romantic relationship with him. Thinking it over again, you could never see yourself dating anyone at the moment at all. You went way over your head. 

“I’m sorry,” you uttered from yourself, finding this entire situation completely pathetic on your part. He was taking this surprisingly well for someone who just had their time wasted. You wanted to rip up the letter, trying to peel your hands out of his to reach for it. He gripped your hands, maintaining eye contact, and turned his head so that it’ll block your view of anything but him. 

“Hey, it’s a’right, I ain’t one to judge. What’s on your mind?” Even though his voice was calm and his tone was reassuring, you sat there for a few seconds in silence. There happened to be a lot going on in your mind, one of them was to dig a hole through the ground and hide forever.

“I’m usually not like this,” you begin to explain, “but I think I got too into my own head and this happened. You're a really awesome guy and an even cooler spiderman, but…you’re right, I don’t love you.” You closed our eyes out of shame, going on to explain how you’ve gotten to this point in time. Without having to look, you could just feel that he was paying close attention to every detail. 

Finishing up your half sob story, you open one eye to get a small look of his expression. HE kept a small grin on his face, patting the back of your hand. Slowly opening both eyes, he gives your hands a small squeeze. “Guess I’ve been asked out and rejected. A new record if I do say so myself,” he jokes.

Unable to contain your laughter, you lay out a giggle, thanking the heavens he had the talent of making situations less awkward. After your laughter dies out, you finally are able to look him in the eyes, your face beams with satisfaction. “Well, we both agree we won’t be dating, but it doesn't mean we can’t be friends? How about it?”

He throws his head back in laughter, you watch his body vibrate and change color. One hand on his stomach and the other on his head, trying to keep himself steady. “You're one hell of a dozy, you know that right! Yea, let’s do it.” You smile, wrapping your hand into a fist and hanging it in the air. 

Noticing it, he does the same and the two connect, creating a familiar greeting to you. A fist bump, an initiation to the start of this weird dynamic of the both of you. Wishing this could last forever, it wasn’t until the beeping of both our watches startled you out of it. Right, you were at work, not doing work. “Miguel’s so gonna kill me!” 

You jump out of the space, almost crashing to the floor and dashing through the halls. You hear a rupture of laughter trail behind you, as you try to come up with an excuse in your head. “Eh, he’ll survive an hour without needing help,” he says, finally pacing up to your side. “Or maybe boss man could just stop giving us work and stop being a buzzkill.”

“Hobie!” From your peripheral, you could see the expression on his face. He literally couldn’t care less. Well, cheers to this new friend, who is already twisting your behavior from the jump.

~Minx

[jaylabyrinth]

man, white people have it so easy when it comes to representation. they get to see themselves in romcoms, the final girls in horror films, the weird type, the outcast, the popular ones, and even the villain. I wish I didn’t have scrimmage the internet, have to look up “black girl nerds in movies” to find things I can relate to. and it’s not like I haven’t deeply connected with some of those types of movies I said earlier, it’s just none of those girls looked like me. this is why with my art, I’m gonna have black girls playing roles I’ve always wanted to see. black woman sociopaths, antagonists, nerds, neurodivergent, weird silly shit that for so long has always been give to white roles. idk I just started thinking so enjoy that thought!

[minxx-winxx]

🗣 PREACH! SAY IT LOUDER FOR THE PEOPLE ON THE BACK WHO CAN'T HEAR!! 🗣

let's be so open and honest you guys- alot of actors we fall in love with tend to be people who are portrayed a certain way. weather it'll be the personality that attracts you or simply their appearance, you get attracted. and no lie, the amount of black people in film that I personally like arent high in my list, there's barely any of them actually. I want to see people who are the same as me, weather it be in culture, skin color, gender, age, or anything like that. bro idk, I barely watch anything because of the fact that it'd predominantly the majority and not the minority playing main roles. all in all, nothing coming from me should be taken to face value, I just be reading most of the time fr lol