#and goddammit I just wanted to hang out with my friends is that so much of a fucking crime

[okcoolthanks]

I got mad and sad so I wrote some vent (amougus) (jk sorry) post and I know they won’t fucking see it but fuck if I wanted to say it

g and m are people but I don’t want to say their names because idk

If you don’t want to read it you don’t have to it’s under the cut if you really really want to I got really mad and just typed it so most of it won’t make sense

Hey can I just say that using therapy speech doesn’t automatically make you in the right I don’t ducking care if your depressed and go to therapy you can’t fucking tell me that I shouldn’t be upset from having a panic attack and feeling left out for multiple days while im crying talking to you because im slurring my words and I can’t breath around my own sobs

Like I get that I knew that I might be triggered because whooaaahh substance abuse, but 1 why would you do fucking DRUGS on a holiday where there’s a fuck ton of KIDS around and 2 maybe I just thought it was fine! I hadn’t been around something like that in years i thought it was fine and it wasn’t and because im fuckinf terrified of ruining everyone’s good time I didn’t say anything when I started fucking sobbing but that doesn’t mean I didn’t want to be heard!!!!!!!! And last but definitely not least 3 YOU FUCKING KNEW THAT I DONT UNDERTSAND SITUATIONS WELL. MAYBE TELLING ME THROUGH CLUES THAT YOUR UPSET AND SHIT DIDNT PASS THROUGH MY FUCKING THICK SKULL, ALL OF YOU WERE THERE WHEN I GOT MY AUTISM DIAGNOSIS, FUCKING m ALSO HAS IT SO ITS NOT LIKE YOU DIDNT KNOW JESUS FUCKING CHRIST

I ducking understand that I was in the wrong to be upset about some things but holy ducking shit you can’t say that I’m the bad guy because your using therapy speech and if someone has a mental illness that they should shut up and fix it before making ANY friends when mental illnesses are a fuck ton more complicated than that which you’d think they’d KNOW because YOU ALL HAVE SOME SORT OF THAT

But NO. IM the fucking asshole for every fucking thing that went wrong and now I have to change how I walk to classes and I skip my favorite fucking class ever ESPECIALLY when it’s cold and raining outside because I’d GENUINELY RATHER FREEZE TO DEATH THAN BE IN A ROOM WITH ANY OF YOU FUCKERS AGAIN

Hell if you didn’t fucking want me around you should’ve fucking told me!!!!! I wouldn’t have come back!!! I wouldn’t have had lunch with you every day! I wouldn’t have made everyone little things I thought you’d like and I wouldn’t have tried to remember your birthdays and I wouldn’t have had hope for my future

If you were FUCKING uncomfortable with me around after I asked you out g I wouldn’t have gone around you!!! I checked in so much asking if it was still ok that I was around, I CONSTANTLY asked if it was ok that I was around you can’t fucking say ���communications important!” And then not fucking communicate in a way that I understand!!!!!

I’m SORRY I’m a bad person but fuck man it’s not like I wasn’t TRYING

[markedbyindecision]

ooooh wait that is an interesting point. technically lucifer did lie to chloe because he didn’t tell her she was made by god. but does that count, if it’s a lie by omission? or if he didn’t think it would matter at the time? like, is it only a lie if he feels it would be dishonest or is it a lie if it is dishonest no matter how he feels?

[mockerycrow]

Congrats on 4k! Saw the post I was wondering if you could do a platonic fanfic? So with Dad!John Price + teen!reader with the prompt “I just wanted to be like you” with reader tell price that they’re thinking about join the military and with price being like “absolutely NOT.”

Take your time if needed!

-🫠

DIFFERENT PATH (Dad!Price x Teen!GN!Reader) — 4K CELEBRATION

[WARNINGS; Dark thoughts, angst, price is a good dad but he needs to control his tempter, you butt heads and you’re both stubborn asses.]

YOU HAVE BEEN uncharacteristically quiet at the dinner table, John notes in his head. You’re a bit closed in on yourself as you actually eat your food instead of talk your head off like usual. He notes the way you keep your eyes lowered, your shoulders hunched; alarm bells are going off in his head because he isn’t sure if something happened, because you aren’t telling him anything.

You have been like this since school—you’re usually eager to hang around John since he’s usually away off somewhere in a different country, leaving you with a family friend for a couple of weeks or months at a time. This time? You came home, gave John a quick hug, a quiet “hi”, and you were in your room until he called you for dinner. He did not bother you once you shut your door—if you need space, he wasn’t going to deprive you of that. John knows he needed his space after coming home from school when he was younger.

“So,” John hums, a green bean in his mouth. He quickly chews, swallows, and takes a sip of his ice water before continuing. “How was school?” There’s a moment where your eyes actually flicker to him for the first time all night before they flicker back down to your plate, moving your food around with a fork; you shrug. John let’s out a sigh and tilts his head. “Words, kiddo.”

“It was fine.” You respond, your tone neutral. John notices the way you aren’t eating much, every few minutes is a few bites. You’re either scarfing it down, or you don’t eat it at all because you can’t stop talking. “Fine?” He questions, wiping his mouth with his napkin. You nod in response, knowing he’s trying to pry more information out of you. “Can I go to my room?” You ask, your jaw tight.

John pauses for a moment, a knot in his stomach forming. “Yes, you can.” He responds after hesitating for a few seconds. A heavy sigh leaves him as he watches you spring into action, grabbing your plate and bringing it to the kitchen before jogging up the stairs to where your room is. John knew this would eventually happen, something running across in his path of parenting where you wouldn’t want to tell him about something.

It’s definitely not the first time you’ve taped your mouth shut about something, but as you’ve grown to be more independent—you’ve been very independent as he’s been away a lot—he fears the worst. John just hopes you would trust him enough to tell him about something bad happening; even if you were involved and there was drugs or something else, he wants you to trust him. John wants you to know that no matter what, he would love you. Nothing would change that.

“Goddammit.” John mutters, cleaning up the table, grabbing his now empty plate and dirty dishes. He brings them to the kitchen and washes off his plate before sticking it in the dish washer with the utensils, spotting your barely touched food. John puts his hands on the counter and leans against them, slipping back into thought once more. Maybe it was time to talk to you about how he would still love you, even if you were involved in some bad shit? Is that the correct move?

John hates it—being on his own as a father. Your mother has never really been in the picture and you’ve luckily never taken an interest in knowing her, so he’s ruled the possibility of your mother coming back into contact. John doesn’t want to think about the other possibilities; the other stuff that could suggest a reason for this clammy reaction.

No, he decides, if you need something, you will come to him unless he deems it necessary to properly intervene. John puts plastic wrap over your plate and puts it on a shelf in the fridge before he retreats to his office. He keeps his door cracked for you in case you decide to change your mind—he knows something is up—and he grabs a book, sitting down in his office chair. John blinks at the book in his hands before flipping open to where he left his bookmark.

You come downstairs an hour or two after dinner was served. John was only half processing his book, rereading the same sentence at least four different times when you knock on the cracked door. John blinks and looks up from his book, quickly putting the bookmark between the pages and shutting the cover. “Come in.”You open the door with a nervous look, your hands fidgeting. The cat quickly runs into the office with a soft “mrr” as you walk closer to his desk. John holds his breath for a moment as you approach. “What’s goin’ on, kiddo?” John asks softly.

You sit in one of the two chairs in front of his desk with your hands in your lap. You glance at his face a couple of times before you groan and rub your face. You look back at him, your eyebrows furrowed. “Look, I know we talked about this before, but..” You trail off for a moment, looking to him for some sort of guidance. John gestures for you to continue with, “We’ve talked about a lot of things, love. Go on.”

You press your lips together before you utter something that makes John’s heart drop. “I was approached by a recruiter in P.E. class today.” John shakes his head quickly. “Absolutely not.” He says harshly, crossing his arms. “You already know my answer, I’m not signing anything.” You groan loudly and lean back in your chair. “Come on, Dad! This is truly what I want to do in life, I—“

“It’s a hard NO. Do you hear me?” John hisses, looking at you. It’s almost like he’s speaking to one of his men when they messed up. “You do not want to be in my line of work. You have no bloody idea what actually goes on.” You and your dad have had this kind of conversation before; back when you were fourteen. John had just assumed you were just getting more attached to him—since you were twelve, he’s been able to go on leave to be with you more often than he had been able to before. John just assumed it was sudden attachment due to the (family friendly) stories he had shared.

But no, even two years later, you’re still insistent on what you want to do. “Dad, please, just listen t’me—“

“My answer is and always will be no. You have no fuckin’ idea what happens out there, kid. It’s nothin’ like the games I’ve gotten you, you hear me? It’s nothin’ like the shows or the movies you begged me to buy you!” John snaps, his tone borderline vicious. You flinch at his tone, your heart dropping to your stomach. Your avert your eyes; John has never spoken to you like that before. You try to hold back the tears, but your gut is tight, throat burning as well as your eyes.

“I just..” You mumble. “I just wanted to be like you, Dad.”

John blinks, your shaky tone bringing him out of his protective rage. Guilt swirls in his chest, dripping down to his gut and settling uneasily. “Fuck, I—“ He stutters for a moment before taking in a breath in to gain his composure. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I never meant to snap at you like that, that’s completely on me.” John says with a much gentler tone than before, guilt lacing every word. Your gaze sticks to his desk instead of his face as you shrug, your eyes burning.

“That’s not okay for me to do, kiddos I just..” John lets out a heavy sigh. “You know I’ve been in the military my entire life; it’s not pretty. It’s not like the films you see, alright? I’ve seen.. many, many men and women be torn apart by bullets, blown up by explosives—hell, you know the nasty scar on my left side? I walked into an explosive rigged room when you were three years old, darlin’.”

That causes you to pick up your head and look at him with wide eyes, the tears brimming your eyelids. You blink, a tear quickly falling down your cheek. John has a guilty yet solemn expression, his eyebrows furrowed together; likes yours do when you’re also upset or thinking too hard about something. “Nearly cost me my life, kid. Nearly cost you your dad.” John says the last part quieter. He watches the way your eyes dart around as you process this information, your lips parting after a moment.

“Look.. I..” You trail off for a moment, your fingers licking at the seams of your pants. “I still.. I still want to, I just..” You pause. “I don’t see myself doing anything else, dad.”John closes his eyes for a moment, letting out a shaky breath. “You still have a year or two, I just.. I can’t sign anything for you, kid. If you die, I just—“

“—whAt if you die, dad?? You just admitted to me a risk you took and you’re still in the military despite having a kid!” You suddenly burst, your voice breaking. John blinks at you in surprise before folding his hands together in his lap, leaning back in his office chair with a quiet squeak of the bolts. “Why is it so different if I went in??”

John looks at you, at your passion and your frustration. “Because you haven’t been tainted by this life, love. You’ll never look at anything the same.” You give him a hard stare, the sadness turning into anger. “And if I said I’m ready for that?” A beat passes. “I’m not signing anythin’. But once you’re a legal adult, I can’t stop you.” You press your lips together; that’s one of the many things you and your father have in common. You’re both incredibly stubborn and won’t back down, and maybe you both bend and break the rules a bit. “I can wait.”

[oneshlut]

Overjoyed (Dr. Flug x Reader) [Headcanons]

Rules For Requesting

Characters I Will Write For

Masterlist

Summary: General Dr. Flug crushing and confessing headcanons

VERY rarely experiences love. This is very new to him, so he will NOT recognize it the first few months he has a crush

Will think of you as a really close friend! At least, he thinks so. He may get a bit more insecure because he thinks you're a better person than him

If you treat him like a normal person and like.. don't bully him??-- He will get attached. I don't think he's recieved affection in a hot minute

You, overall as a person, fascinate him. How can someone be so kind, smart, witty, good-looking (in a totally platonic way), AND care for him? Part of him thinks you're not real. Don't worry, he just hasn't experienced love that often to know what admiration is

He doesn't understand why he gets so nervous around you. He's not scared of you at all, not like he is around Blackhat--you were, in fact, the opposite of him. So why was he getting all fidgety and jumpy around you? It didn't make sense how he could feel so comfortable around a person, yet still feel so anxious all the while

Over time, he becomes a bit protective over you without really knowing it. He'll push you out of his lab when he's doing a dangerous experiment, or will give you the easiest job on missions (besides 5.0.5.'s). He tries to refrain himself from acting this way sometimes, he doesn't want you to feel like you're incompetent in any way--all his intention was to keep you safe! And now he's spiraling because he doesn't know why he feels so protective over you

Sometimes you'll compliment him, and he feels as if Blackhat himself just told him he did a great job on a mission. Except, this time his heart was beating faster, his palms were more sweaty than usual, it felt stuffy inside his mask, and-- ..Goddammit, why is he getting so nervous again?? He then realizes he hasn't responded to you yet, and mutters a small 'thank you' that made him sound a lot less confident he wished he could've sounded

Eventually, he got sick of it. He needed to find out what the hell was going on. So imagine his mini panic attack when he googles 'why is my heart beating so fast', and Google tells him his heart is failing

It's not like he doesn't know what love is, no, far from it. He's seen his average romcoms (and hated them), he knows what love should be like. Hell, he knows the entire chemical formula for the damn feeling. He was just never able to understand what others felt when they said they were 'in love'. Until now.

For him, it was unbelievably weird to have his heart race for someone that wasn't out of fear. Honestly, he.. liked the feeling. If it weren't for how he reacted to it.

Dr. Flug wasn't this nervous around you before. Normally, not at all. When you hung out at his lab, he would ramble on and on about his inventions, only checking in every few minutes to make sure you weren't getting bored of him or anything. But now, knowing his feelings for you, he feels horribly nervous around you. This affects every little thing he does, and he hates it.

When you hang out with Flug now, he realizes how truly lucky he is for you to even do more than just glance over him. Him? Why him? Why not spend your time with anyone else..?

Then he realizes you actually care about him. His existence. He isn't.. invisible to you. And suddenly he's over the moon.

Right--about the way Flug acts around you. Every conversation you have with him suddenly has this weird air around it. You could tell he was more nervous than.. well, usual, but whenever you asked he just waved it off as some upcoming mission or invention he still had to work on. You'd normally decide not to dwell on it too much.

On his end, he thought he was doing everything horribly wrong in front of you. "Catch you on the flip side"??? When has he ever said something like that?! Not to mention his stammering practically increased by 5 times its normal amount, as he was fumbling over most words in every single sentence he dared mutter around you. If he wasn't talking, he was tripping over his untied shoelaces (he almost always had them tied, god, what happened to his schedule-?) or spilling some important chemical all over his workspace.

Overall, he was more fidgety than normal, and he hated it. It made him want to tear his bag out. Why couldn't he just be normal around you? Now he's just worse than he ever was. All his attempts of impressing you were down the drain at this point. But at least he hasn't completely drawn you away--I mean, you still liked hanging out with him! At least, he thinks you like spending time with him.. Part of him is still just the slightest bit insecure.

His worry for you has increased when you go on missions with him now. Part of him wants to just keep you in the hat ship so you don't get involved in something messy, but he knows that would be unfair for you. Flug just worries about you getting hurt, is all. He tries to focus on you a bit more during missions to make sure you're doing alright, but sometimes this just causes him to fuck up even more in front of you. Way to go, Flug. He suddenly feels as if his engineering and villainy PhDs didn't really do that much for him in the long run.

As we all know, Dr. Flug is far from someone to act on feelings. He acts on his logic, most of the time at least. With this in mind, he is the last person you'd think of as someone who would confess their feelings to someone. In all honesty, even if he did muster up the courage to try, he would pass out on the spot. So, he just tries to wait it out until this crush subsides. Spoiler alert: it doesn't!

Right, right--so, since he probably won't ever come clean about his feelings to you, you'll probably eventually just have to confess yourself. Unless Flug slips up one day and accidentally says he loves you in one of his long-winded rambles, in which would make a very awkward situation.

Under the circumstances that you do confess to him first, he.. well, Flug won't believe you at first. You've probably just gotten yourself mixed in with one of Demencia's pranks. A bit cruel, but nothing he couldn't handle. He will have to talk to Demencia later though, she's been getting on his nerves lately.. And besides, the whole spiel of you actually liking him, caring for him, and wanting to be with him? Yeah, okay.

So he laughs. And then he realizes you're serious. Oh. You're serious.. Oh.

Ohhhhhh crap. Okay! So you like him. It was.. It didn't feel real. But it was. And now that same feeling came back to him, the one where he feels his hands getting sweatier, his bag getting stuffier, and.. a new symptom. His legs turned flimsy, and could now just barely hold his body. He leaned onto his desk for support. If only he could see how red his bag was at the time.

And yes, you were able to calm him down, but even as the day progressed, Flug still couldn't swallow the situation. He laid in his bed unmoving, still, and.. awake. He couldn't get his mind off of anything that had happened that afternoon. He's probably pinched himself at least 6 times now, making sure he wasn't just dreaming or anything. After the 7th pinch.. yep, he wasn't.

Eventually, this surprise faded away into another new emotion.

Overjoyed.

[doumadono]

Hii!! I wanna send an emergency request and I'm sorry if it's too much or anything but a week ago it was my birthday and the exact same day my grandma passed away. My grandma is one of the people dearest and close to me so losing her,especially on my birthday, It hurts alot. My birthday wasn't happy that day, usually my grandma would bake me a cake and my favorite foods that would always bring me joy and now it's gone, she's gone and I can't do anything about it but accept. I was wondering if you could do Katsuki comforting gn!reader? I really appreciate if you do. 💕

"Lean on me" - Bakugo x gn!Reader

A/N: I’m so so sorry for your loss. Your grandma sounds like an incredible person who brought so much joy to your life. It’s okay to grieve and miss her deeply. Hold on to those cherished memories and allow yourself to feel all the emotions

EMERGENCY REQS MASTERLIST - PART 2

The sun had long since dipped below the horizon, casting the dorm room in a gentle twilight. The only sound was the soft rustling of pages turning as you sat curled up on the sofa, trying to distract yourself with a book. Yet, the words blurred together, your mind too occupied with the heavy weight of grief to focus.

Your birthday had always been a day of joy, a day filled with laughter, homemade cakes, and your grandma's warm embrace. But this year, the day had taken a cruel turn. The news of her passing still echoed in your mind, a constant reminder of the irreplaceable loss you had suffered.

A gentle knock on your door pulled you from your thoughts. Before you could respond, the door creaked open, and Katsuki Bakugo, your classmate, walked in. "Hey, nerd," he said, his voice gruff yet unusually gentle. "Mind if I join you?"

You nodded, managing a small, grateful smile as he settled beside you.

For a moment, the two of you sat in silence, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air.

"I know today was supposed to be different," Katsuki began, his voice low and steady. "And I know it hurts like hell. Losing someone you love, especially like this... It's not something you just get over, goddammit."

You glanced up at him, surprised by the depth of understanding in his words.

Katsuki had always been tough, sometimes even abrasive, but in this moment, he was showing a side of himself you rarely saw.

"I don't have any magic words to make it better," he continued, his eyes meeting yours. "But I can tell you this - it's okay to feel like crap. It's okay to miss her, to cry, to be angry. You're allowed to feel everything you're feeling."

A tear rolled down your cheek, and Katsuki reached out, brushing it away with surprising gentleness. "She loved you. And she wouldn't want you to be alone right now."

You nodded, unable to speak past the lump in your throat, and more tears streamed down your flushed cheeks.

"Remember the good times," your friend said softly. "The way she smiled, the way she made you laugh. Keep those memories close. They don't replace her, but they can help you carry on."

His words were like a balm to your aching heart. You leaned into him, finding solace in his warmth and strength while you choked yourself on your own tears. "It's not fair!"

Katsuki wrapped an arm around you, holding you close as you let the tears flow freely. "I know, Y/N. But I'm here for you," he murmured. "Not just today, but every goddamn day. Whatever you need, whenever you need it. Just tell me, yeah?"

For a while, you simply sat there, finding comfort in Katsuki's steady presence. The pain of your loss was still there, a deep, aching void, but his support made it a little more bearable.

Eventually, the tears subsided, leaving you feeling exhausted but a little lighter. You looked up at Katsuki, offering him a small, grateful smile. "Thanks," you whispered. "I just hope I'll be able to... You know... To go through this."

"You're strong, and you'll get through this, no doubt here. And I'll be right here with you, little nerd. And you can always lean on me."

[catbountry]

Re: your reblog: No idea why a lot of men don't want anything to do with a movement that was regularly comparing them to bowls of poisoned M&Ms. It'll forever be a mystery

Oh fuck, that fucking post.

Like, look. I understand the importance of communicating why women might be intimidated by men. But that was such a bad comparison. I remember it being circulated by the kinds of people I was hanging out with who would wind up becoming increasingly right-wing, and it felt like every single time there was some sort of poorly articulated point about the fear that gets ingrained into us, it would just push these guys further and further away. This is purely anecdotal, but I was in a discussion with some guys in a server who said that they'd talked with multiple guys who were just kind of vaguely anti-woke not because of any deeply held principles, but because someone on the left was mean to them or disparaged them. In nerd spaces especially, these are guys who were likely already ostracized in school for being weird and are looking for, well, a safe space. And when perceived outsiders (other nerds who are demographically different from them) come in and try and make a space more inclusive, make it safer, and call anybody who objects a bad person... there's a really big social element to that. Like yeah, there's probably misogyny or racism or homophobia that could be unpacked, but those are things you can unlearn. And the best way for these guys to unlearn these behaviors is just through contact with people who are different from them with whom they have positive experiences. It's not the whole process, mind, but it's a good first step. And simply telling someone off for being bad when they might not even fully understand why it is that they have objections will succeed in getting rid of those guys from your spaces, but where do they go from there? Not the diverse and inclusive spaces we would hope they'd go, that's for fuckin' sure.

I don't want to say that it's our jobs to be super nice to these guys all the time, because you know what? Yeah, some of them do suck, as many people of all walks of life do. They won't change their minds because they see no reason to do so. But if you have the energy to try and level with these guys and just say things in a way that isn't accusatory and is just matter-of-fact, it works better. They're more likely to see you as a whole-ass person if you're willing to engage with them as a whole-ass person. It's exhausting, and I'm not the best at it, but goddammit, I've tried, with varying results. Even if they come in swinging, they can be tripped up by a simple "why would you say that?" or "I don't get it." Challenging them in a way that's not accusatory so much as it is asking them to self-reflect. Why would you say that? Why is that offensive joke funny? Why do you think it's an appropriate thing to say to people you barely even know?

I'm not one of those people that denies the existence of the male loneliness epidemic, though I certainly do think loneliness is up with everybody, not just men. I think neuroatypical men are particularly vulnerable; people with autism aren't any more likely than NT people to believe conspiracy theories, but I definitely found myself taking the word of people who I was friendly with when they perpetuated misinformation to me about shit like AGP or ROGD because why would they lie to me? Looking back, there were definitely people who were racist in a more lowkey way that wasn't immediately detectable by me because I couldn't hear the dogwhistles. But just by virtue of being a enby in predominately queer social circles, I have people around me that were able to challenge these views and help pull me away from these ideas (and help me realize that my gender is more "woman?" rather than just "woman"). These friends allowed me to realize just how stupid they actually were. There's a lot of guys, particular straight guys, who just do not have that in their lives. The bigots are always recruiting and there's nothing they love more than disenfranchised young men who are full of misdirected anger and resentment, especially ones who might be psychologically or emotionally vulnerable and incredibly insecure about it. It's a really hard mindset to get out of, particularly when your views get more extreme, and it's also something you have to actually want to change. Admitting you've been played for a sucker by people with agendas and who don't actually give a shit about you is hard. Nobody wants to admit when they've been had.

There's always a lot of resistance whenever anybody floats the idea that hey, maybe we shouldn't automatically assume these guys are assholes when we encounter them; they might just be ignorant, and you can talk to people who are ignorant without coming across as condescending or sanctimonious. Some of them might be assholes but let them show themselves first before deciding that you can't deal with them. But men are like most people; they don't want to see themselves as fundamentally bad or wicked. Nor should they. I know a lot of women who have been hurt by men; shit, I was hurt by the same man over and over and over again and was in denial about it for decades, and it was only after leaving him that I realized just how absolutely fucked he was as a person, and how he'd never have any incentive to change, even when faced with the consequences of his incredibly selfish actions. I tried so fucking hard to get him to improve only to be met with the same rote excuses for why he couldn't, and I kept giving him grace he did not earn. But also I was trying for 21 years. But his problems are his own. Not every man is going to be like him. I've known men who are, deep down, decent people, but they pick up shitty ideas that linger around them like a stinkcloud. The good news about stinkclouds, though? You can take a shower and smell better. You do it regularly enough, you won't stink no more. It's not an immutable trait. But it definitely helps to not hang around other guys who cluster and form a larger stinkcloud. You gotta wash your ass, if you must, as Del the Funky Homosapien once said.

Fellas, you are not a poisoned bowl of M&Ms. You might just be kinda smelly and in need of a bath. You can't remove the poison from those M&Ms, but you can clean up and become the best version of yourself. A lot of us have the stink of a lot of cultural ideas we've been fed without question, and you're not a bad person for having thought these things one time; it's a long process trying to challenge and prune these ideas. But you might be a bad person if somebody tries to reach out to you and you go and roll around in pig shit and declare how much you love being stinky, while also being upset that girls don't want to talk to you on account of the stink... unless they are taught from a young age to ignore it, or they also want to just socially isolate themselves by diving headfirst into the Bog of Eternal Stench. Those women do certainly exist, but they're not going to bring out the best in you, you know?

It's not an easy process, and it's not easy to reach out to people and have the psychological wherewithal to be able to handle some potentially wild shit. But if you're the kind of person who believes in rehabilitation in the justice system, then you should be able to extend that to people who just have some really shitty ideas that they just internalized without question who might just need to hear a perspective that they haven't heard before. Not everybody can do it, but for those who can? Try. You might help keep somebody from quoting crime or suicide statistics to strangers online in an attempt to feel some semblance of power above those they see below them in the societal hierarchy. You can't force change, but you might be able to nudge them in the right direction.

I think that's the best anybody can do. Try to be as kind as patient as you can, but don't take any shit, either. Remain firm in your principles. Remove yourself if you have to. But at least try, even when it's hard, because like it or not, we need as many of these guys on our side as possible of we want to affect the kind of change we want to see in the world.

... And that's all I have to say about that.

[softspeirs]

hi! :) could i please request “lots of innocent and not so innocent touches” for mota - for rosie because i’ve been obsessed with him after ep 6. you write beautifully 🫶🏻

A/N: Thanks for the request! I hope this fills what you were looking for - this has no smut, I took a different approach to "not so innocent touches". This features Grace, who you can meet in this fic. These Heartbeats Clear Masterlist

two - the infirmary.

It's absolute chaos in the infirmary when Rosie comes in, overwhelmed by the sheer volume of people inside the relatively small building.

His hands are balled into fists. He knows if he lets go, they'd shake uncontrollably, and he can't do that now. He shoves his hands into his pockets instead, and scans the room, feeling horribly like he's frozen while the world moves on around him.

He sees Grace across the room at the same time she sees him, and his feet start moving towards her without his permission.

They meet in the middle, and he steadies her with a hand on her shoulder, just a quick, light touch. "Grace."

"Rosie--" She says at the same time, and he's a little floored by the sound of his nickname coming out of her mouth.

"Is he okay?"

"Come on," she says, and then she's striding across the room to where Pappy is trying to get off a bed. "Lieutenant!" She says at the same time Rosie rushes forward, hand on his friend's shoulder to push him down.

"I'm all right, goddammit." He pauses, flushes a little. "Sorry, ma'am--"

"Pappy, will you sit down and let her look at you?"

"I'm not hit--"

"You were bleeding from somewhere--"

"Enough, both of you." Grace says, voice firm. "Rosie, get out of my way." She says, hands on his arm to push him to the side. She pauses only briefly to glance back at him, eyes apologetic. "You can stay if you can get him to sit down, and give me a hand."

"Christ," Pappy mutters, but does as he's told. "I'm fine."

"If you say that one more time," Rosie says, eyes closing in frustration. He can feel his hand start to shake again.

It happened so fast - they thought they were in the clear, and then a fighter out of nowhere. Glass shattering, the controls vibrating in his hands before he looked over at Pappy, who was looking in dismay down at his chest.

Blood. Too much blood.

They've been through too much to lose someone from his crew now, and certainly not his copilot. He just won't have it.

"Here." Grace is in front of him now, her hand covering his just for a moment. She's pushing a bandage between his fingers, but she's squeezing him too, and god if he doesn't want to grab her right back and hang on for dear life.

She lets go after giving him a look, and turns back to Pappy. "Shirt off."

"Aren't you supposed to have bedside manner, Lieutenant?"

"Seeing as how you've been trying to vacate your bedside ever since we pulled you from that plane, Pappy, I don't think you qualify for my oh so nice bedside manner."

Rosie snorts, and presses the bandage against the wound on Pappy's chest when he can see it. Grace leans in next to him, morphine in between her teeth for a second as she assesses the situation. Her hand finds purchase on Rosie's shoulder, and he shifts his weight, helping her balance without a second thought.

"It just grazed you. Shrapnel."

"I told you." Rosie says, eyes sharp on his friend.

"Boys." Grace says, before the argument can start, and then she gets to work, leaving them both sitting there quietly.

.

Rosie is perched on a bench outside when Grace finally comes out. She looks exhausted.

"He's asleep." She says softly, almost collapsing next to him, their shoulders brushing.

"Thank you." He says, ducking his head so he can meet her eyes. "I know fliers are the worst patients in the world--"

She waves him off. "It was nothing."

"It's not nothing." He surprises himself with his vehemence. "He's my best friend."

His hand has found hers almost without his knowledge. Earlier, in the chaos of the infirmary, there was a camaraderie to their touches. Colleague to colleague, a steadying hand, a reassuring pat.

This isn't that.

She doesn't let go. If anything, she squeezes him right back. "I'm not supposed to let it get to me, but it scared the hell out of me when you landed. You were so frantic, I thought--"

"We're all fine, thanks to you."

She half-turns on the bench so she can face him, their intertwined hands in her lap. "Don't do that to me again." She says, voice and eyes fierce, hair escaping her pins.

He doesn't know what to say, so he doesn't say anything. He just enjoys the warm comfort of her touch, and the way her thumb strokes the top of his hand -- gentle, alive.

[ren-rambles-often]

I finally watched Code Geass but before I get to my short rant about the show and the ship you can pretty much guess this is about…. Let me just say….

This show peaked at the pseudo incest brocon subplot, I'm taking no arguments!

Fine, fine, that's definitely not entirely true but Rolo's death had me pausing the show and staring at the screen like for what reason?! Let the boy be hopelessly obsessed goddammit 😭😭😭

Now I've gotten that out of my system…

Guess who's the character I hate most?

shocker I know/sarc

I haven't hated one half of my otp ship in a piece of media this much since that one Episode Nagi panel of Reo's heart getting destroyed by Nagi's dumbass (Reo my love love I'd treat you so much better)

Suzaku's case is worse by several degrees because his idiocy and attitude only continued to stoke the flames of my annoyance for the whole two fucking seasons until like the three or two episodes at the end cause oh my fucking God I cried.

(That shit was a wild ride enough nothing is making me watch any spin offs or side stories I care that little)

From the first moment he entered that Lancelot suit and agreed to help the side that attempted to silence him by murder, I clocked his ass and marked him as the dumbest bitch to ever exist but we love a protective loyal dog Top don't we ladies?

"I want to change the system from the inside-" bitch shut up these are colonizers you ain't changing nothing 😭

Even after they they tried pining the murder on him to sentence him to death AGAIN!! BOY WENT BACK.

AND!

He refused Zero?!

HUH?!?

Now I'm not a particularly patriotic person (I hate my county so so much) but if we got neo colonized, No matter what merits I would never be friendly or cooperative with the other side.

Suzaku stopped his country fighting back (valid reason or not I don't remember, he killed his dad and that meant surrender ig) and proceeded to kiss up to brits, fall in love with one of them, and further hinder every attempt of his own people fighting back because 'Violence wrong' but it's okay when he does it because some made up ideal told him being subservient would make a change. And it did….just for him tho, all other 11s? no one cares.

And it didn't even matter because Lulu's methods were always the ones that brought things closer!

I know it's a kind of a commentary on something, I ain't stupid but I was still pissed.

Literally had me gritting my teeth almost every time he stepped on screen, especially when he went pseudo emo after becoming a knight of round or whatever.

Bottom line, he frustrated me as much as he did Lelouch but I still wanted to see them FUCK.

The last couple of episodes where genuinely the best things I've ever watched and a brilliant end to the series. I wouldn't say I grew to enjoy all the characters but God did the plot threads keep me going.

Trust I understood very little about the gate shit and the killing God aspect but when you're having a fun time everything just looks good.

To sum up SuzaLulu…

Giving me friends to enemies to lovers (correct me not I won't hear you) All mixed together with the palpable hatred and vitriol they held toward each other is just too much.

And Lelouch as a bottom is literally my type >.< psycho, pretty, and bad at sports (also having a natural inclination to dominate others)??? SIGN ME THE FUCK UP!!!

His dramatic ass had me gripped and his personality contrasted so beautifully with Suzaku's dumbass that while I did want to be sad about that redhead he might have liked dying….girl bye 👋 make way for the gay 🏳️‍🌈

(Srsly tho, I was sad for a sec, it was a very shocking scene to say the least but Rolo pulled such a Brocon move I was laughing for a solid minute.)

I very much didn't want to be like most other yaoi shippers that watched this shit when they were ten and went for the very obvious but still delicious low hanging fruit yaoi but I see enemies to lovers mixed with tragic yaoi and an undeniably fun story and brain stops functioning lmaooo. Turns out I'm very much like other fujins ;p

Closing thoughts: Umm…If you're going to defend Suzaku in the replies…go for it I'm down to listen but he'll forever be my bitch. I love Lelouch but Light is better, Orange x Lelouch is underratedand C.C. and Kallen should have gotten married.

[l0relaii]

"oh, don't worry about that darlin; we'll make it fit.. but i don't think you're ready for that yet.." Oh I need to read about the moment it FITS.....

OH MY GOD ANON I LOVE YOU I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR SOMEONE TO REQUEST THIS

i originally wrote that as "but i need to get you ready first" but i changed it last moment and i'm SOO GLAD I DID

this is set after part 1 part 3 and part 4

i've had some glasses of wine before writing this so it has a bit of angst but don't worry whores, the smut is still there 😋😋

you've been together with mike for some time now

we already know about your little experience when you've surprised the shit out of him with your little tricks

he never thought you'd do any of that on your own accord without any instruction from him

he's ain't complainin' tho 👀

one day you're just hanging out with him at his place, sitting beside him on the couch while watching a movie with your head on his shoulder.. and your whole body wrapped around him like a fucking koala bear on a tree branch

he can feel you shifting nervously, something's definitely on your mind and he needs wants to find out what's making you so restless

besides.. your whole shifting is making him kinda.. hard..

he wouldn't mind you showing him some more of what you learned from porn and nasty stories from your friends

you're so overwhelmed by the thought of finally doing IT with him and you just blurt out

"i think i'm ready"

"huh? the movie's not even over and you wanna leave hun?"

"no, not that.. you know.."

he turns his head to you so he can look into your eyes pretending to think about it for a second

but the only thing he can focus on is his cock twitching in his sweatpants

"hmm.. nope, no i don't think i do.. care to elaborate a little?"

you can feel your cheeks heating up while you bite your lip

"oh c'mon.. you know.. i'm ready to.. feel you.."

"well- you're kinda feeling me right now aren't you?"

he says as he eyes up your position wrapped around his body

"no!! not like that, jesus.. feel you.. like.. inside.. fuck- goddammit mike, i'm ready to make love to you ALL the way"

"oh, why didn't you say so?"

ohhh you wanna make love to him, yeah that makes sense. easy peasy, yeah definitely.. he can do that, right?

wait what did you just say?!

it takes him some time to process your lewd announcement that seems so innocent at first

oh how he wants to rip your clothes off right then and there on the damn couch and fuck you senseless

but you deserve more than that. your first time should be something more.. romantic. something nice, real nice for you, you deserve it

"wait a sec.. are you sure?"

"uhm, yeah i guess i am"

"you guess?"

"no, i KNOW i'm ready"

"now you're talkin'.. well.. we gotta make you ready first, right?"

he ate you out. (if ya want me to elaborate on that too send me an ask pls PLS🌝)

if you wanted a first time, he gave you one, just not the first time he fucked you. it should be enough to satisfy you until he's prepared for THE first time

he thinks about it. a lot. a lot more than he'd care to admit.

what should he do? go all the way out with rose petals and candles, maybe some champagne?

he contemplates everything. it's consuming him so much he's always thinking about it especially even when he's around you

and he becomes kinda distant. not because he wants to. god if he could he would crawl under your skin

it's just that he knows what you're expecting from him, and he knows you're ready, he trusts you, of course he does

he doesn't trust himself. what if he messes up? what if it turns out so badly you'll leave him?

you wouldn't do that.. right?... RIGHT?!

jesus why is he so worried about it? he never cared about any of this shit with any woman

but you're not any woman.

you begin to think you scared him a little with your request. why else would he be avoiding you?

so you decide to confront him about it

his heart skips a beat when he sees his phone screen lighting up seeing that you're calling him

"hey.. can i come over?"

"hi babe, uh- yeah, sure"

he fucked up. he knows he did. he thinks you're gonna break up with him the second you come through that door and he's so angry. not at you, but at himself

he's so occupied with pacing nervously around the room he doesn't even notice you knocking and entering his apartment

"am i really that bad?"

"what? what do you mean??"

"i mean.. ARGH jesus fucking christ mike, must i spell everything out for you? am i that bad that you don't want to fuck me?!"

"wait, what-? why would you think that darling?"

"oh i don't know, maybe because you've been avoiding me like the plague since i told you that i was ready?"

"jeez babe, no, fuck no, it's just hard for me-"

"what? is it that hard to want to have sex with me? just because i'm not another one of your sluts and maybe don't know how to please you at times you'll leave me? seriously?! gosh you're such a fucking jerk, d'you know that?!"

"wait a goddamn second i need to explai-"

"OH MY GOD.. is this why you've been avoiding me?? are you with some fucking whore behind my back?! FUCK and to think that i actually- i loved you, d'you know that, huh?"

you feel tears threatening to escape your eyes so you turn around refusing to let him see how much you're actually hurting for him

"would you shut the fuck up for a second and let me say something? wait- you what?"

"i loved you, mike, and i still do- unfortunately"

he grabs your shoulder and turns you around so he can get a clear look at you.

then he sees them. the tears staining your pretty cheeks.

he feels so guilty for making you cry, for avoiding you all this time while he was thinking how to make your first time with him as enjoyable as possible

in the process he forgot how to make ALL the times with you enjoyable, sexual or not

"i love you too sweet girl.."

"you do?"

"of course i do, i just- i've been so caught up thinking about.. what you asked me, i wanted to have a special moment with you, i guess i just-"

"oh mike.. i would've enjoyed it either way, special or not special, as long as it's with you it doesn't matter"

he doesn't respond. he just closes the gap between you two with a sloppy kiss. his hands come down above your thighs giving you a light squeeze urging you to jump

so you do. and he's there to catch you when your legs wrap around his waist not breaking the kiss

he walks with you to his bedroom and gently places you onto his mattress

he breaks the kiss looking at you with a pleading look

"mike, please- i.. i want you"

"i want you too baby, fuck- you have no idea how much i waited and thought about this"

your clothes are rapidly stripped from both your bodies and he's all over you, the only time he distances himself from you is to fetch a condom from his nightstand

you grab it from his hand and open it while maintaining eye contact with him, looking for his approval to wrap it around his leaking cock

once he's ready he brings a hand between your legs noticing how wet you are

"let's get you ready darlin'.."

"no mike please, i can take it please- fuck i need you inside"

"you sure?"

"fuck yeah i am"

he gives you a little smirk before positioning himself at you entrance and sliding up and down your slick folds to gather up your wetness on his cock before entering you slowly

he holds your hand comforting and praising you with every inch you take

"god you're doing so good for me babe.. so tight and warm.. suuuch a good girl.. you're doing so well darling.. "

once he's fully inside you he remains completely still, letting you adjust to his length

"you can move.."

you feel him pulsing inside you when sliding almost completely out and thrusting back in with a groan

"fuck you feel so good.."

you're so overwhelmed by everything. your previous argument, him making it up to you like this, being so close and connected to the man you've grown to love so much and who loves you as well

you can't stop squirming under him and squeezing around his cock

he sets a slow yet deep pace connecting his lips with you once again and sliding a hand to your puffy clit

you feel his hips stutter and a warmth inside you. he came inside the condom. but he doesn't stop his thrusting until he feels you squeezing him and your nails scratching at his back

"oh fuck, jeez, usually it's a lot longer i just- it's all so.. different with you.. i can't get enough of you baby.."

you can't help but smile at him while he collapses on top of you and starts littering soft kisses all over your body

oh my god i think this is the longest thing i've ever written. drunk me is so proud of it. idk abt sober me tho 🤷‍♀️

[nami-moittli]

So I’ve been on a JoJo kick for awhile now, and one of my favorite concepts I’ve seen and latched onto is ✨Higashikita twins✨

(I have no clue if I spelled that correctly lmao) AKA, Josuke and Yukako are twins and therefore both joestars

So, a list of headcanon things of Yukasuke twins stuff! With little order to it

Idk if there’s like. Canon evidence for this or anything, but Koichi is new to the town of Morioh, so neither him nor Okuyasu really know much about the Higashikta twins. In fact, they don’t even realize that Josuke has a twin until Yukako confesses to Koichi

Iirc, Oku and Yukako are in the same class. He just doesn’t realize that having the same last name equals they’re probably related. Josuke needs to point it out to him

They usually never refer to each other by their name, instead saying “my brother/sister” when talking to other people and “Yuka” and “Jojo” to each other, with the occasional “sis/bro”

Josuke is waaayyyy too casual about Yukako. He’ll talk about her like one would talk about the weather, like it’s a completely normal thing

When actually talking to Yukako, yeah he’ll call her insane and shit and get into an argument or fight, but to other people the shit she does is a minor inconvenience at worst

Yukako has a bit of a reputation for being a little crazy, I mean, there’s no way that Koichi was her first crush. By this point not many people really talk about it much, but people also try to stay away from her

This reputation leaks into Josuke as well, which is why he’s seemingly friendless at the start of DiU, no one wants to hang out with the crazy girls brother. He’s probably just as bad as she is

Because of this, they’re very close even with how much they fight. They’re the only ones they had for a long time

Josuke at first wanted to hate Yukako for driving everyone away, and also her general insane behavior, but he quickly learned that that was just how she showed her love and care

They modified their uniforms together. It took Yukako way longer to because she had to dye/paint those roses onto her uniform and all Josuke did was pin/sew some things but they still had fun. They stayed up all night playing video games and chatting just generally enjoying each other’s company

Yukako has actually kidnapped Josuke before the same way she did Koichi, and when she did it was usually to the abandoned house that the Nijimuras eventually moved into

They fight. Like, a lot. It doesn’t help that Yukako knows exactly what button to push to get him riled up. No amount of their sibling love will override their sibling hate ✨

However Yukako is the only one allowed to make fun of Josuke’s hair, because she knows and completely gets why he wears his hair like that. So help you if you insult Josuke’s hair in front of both of them

No matter how much the twins fight, Josuke will always heal Yukako afterwards, and she’ll always carry bandages on her to try and repay the favor

No they do not apologize to each other

During Yukako’s canon introduction arc, Koichi’s “I hate you” does actually get through to her instead of her just brushing it off. Idk what Yuka’s canon family is like, but it feels pretty nonexistent which is why she’s able to ignore it so easily. Here though, she begins to have a breakdown because this is just how she shows her love, why does no one get that?

She still attacks Koichi after his “I hate you” which leads into him gaining Act 2, but it’s a bit more complicated because now she’s like, on the verge of tears not understanding that most people don’t consider kidnapping and what’s basically torture to mean affection

When Josuke and Okuyasu see them by the cliff side he doesn’t know if he should comfort Koichi or Yuka, because on one hand, he knows exactly how terrifying and insane she can be and goddammit this is one of his first friends in a long while and he doesn’t want to drive him away with his sister again, but on the other hand, holy shit that’s his sister having a breakdown and she almost just died and her hair has gone white

He ends up rushing over to Yuka because, how could he not? Okuyasu’s here too, so he can comfort Koichi, right?

He ends up having Crazy Diamond have its fingers run through Yukako’s hair while she cries into his chest

Josuke just really fucking hopes this didn’t just ruin his entire friendship with Koichi over this

As Koichi’s friend, Josuke hopes that he never has to run into Yukako again, because he knows just what kind of person his sister is and would get it if Koichi never wanted to talk to her (or him) ever again. But as Yukako’s brother, he notices that Koichi’s words genuinely got through to her, and that she seems willing to change over this, and that Koichi might just be the best person for his sister

Needless to say, Josuke was very relieved when Koichi held no ill will to him the next day at school and still wanted to be friends

I could totally add more to this, but it’s getting fairly long, so if anyone’s interested in more content for them then feel free to let me know! I have many more ideas for this concept

[tea-and-secrets]

im pretty close with a married couple and want to be they're third. this is not something that would ever actually happen but they're both really attractive and friendly and i love hanging out with them and talking and doing shit andi feel like we've gotten really close and i hope that we continue getting closer but i would never ever admit to this in a million years. i want them to want me. i want them to use me. i want them to fuck me until i dont remember my fucking name anymore jesus christ i am so fucked. honestly i even just want to cuddle with them on the couch and fall asleep together. fucking goddammit i love them so much this kills me. going absolutely feral honestly. somebody put me down. wish i could be normal about any of my friends honestly - cause im not

.

[dreamhacker606]

Your Boyfriend Fangame

Alright listen up folks:

I have an idea related to the Your Boyfriend game and our beloved Peter.

For context, recently I found out that the plot of Peter and MC ended up getting really toxic and terrible. Like into territory that just doesn’t seem as characteristic to the Peter we were introduced to in the beginning. I understand that’s the whole point, but I feel like it really could’ve gone better and we could’ve had a choice to fix things or whatever.

Then there’s the issue with Fuboo. I dunno what it is about creators of horror games/comics/etc being child groomers/predators, but it’s becoming too much of a theme nowadays. Y’all can correct me if this is wrong and provide evidence against the accusations. I still feel like my idea will really help bring the YB fandom back up again because goddammit I adore the characters.

Anyways here’s the idea:

We get introduced to the characters as usual like it is in the first chapter. However, rather than the story focusing on Peter, we get the choice to go into other characters as well, such as getting to know our roomie, Lucy, more or getting to hang out with TK. Maybe even cracking the hard exterior of Don.

What I’m saying is…

I want a dating sim.

It would be great! Think about it: we get the chance to romance Peter, our stalker, and maybe help him out in the end. However, we still get the chance to date the other characters if we wanted to if we make the right choices as the MC. Think about it:

Lucy, partygirl and nympho, is actually really shy and sweet when you get to know her more. She loves something nerdy or bookish, like LotR or Classic Novels.

TK becomes more than a best friend/coworker as you hang out more (I feel like he’d be a total hipster into arcade games and antiques ngl).

Don, our landlord daddy, ends up being a real sweetheart and we get to see him crack a smile or laugh if we say the right thing.

This could really work. Also, of course, MC has the choice of being referred to as she/her, he/him, they/them, etc. as well as whatever name they choose.

I’m kind of pulling my ideas from DDLC (Doki Dokie Lit. Club) and The Arcana, but I still feel like it would work.

The only thing we might have issues with is that Fuboo or whoever else created the game might use copyright rules or whatever because it’s be their original idea.

However, I feel like if this is just a fangame and, unfortunately, give credit to a child groomer, this would still work. The credit would just go to the character ideas and game, but the rest would be an original plot.

But Sage, what about the horror aspect of the game?

Well, we can still add that. Maybe Peter, when you date the others, can still be like Monika in DDLC where she kills off the other interests. He doesn’t actually do it but we could make sure we protect TK, Lucy, and/or Don. Peter’s route would just be us dealing with him directly.

Also, if we have good or bad endings, we could still have the horror aspect, like having murder or something.

I just really miss YB content and I hate to know that, once again, a creator couldn’t just be a decent human.

I think that’s all I have for now at least. Please let me know if you’d be interested in working on this. I’d love to help out anyway I can.

Disclaimer: I am (currently) not making the fangame. I will see if I can with the resources I have available, but I’m ngl Apple products are not creator friendly.

Edit:

Ahah so this keeps getting a fair amount of notes. I just have a question: how do I develop a game like this?

[jessybarnes]

Shake My Nerves, Rattle My Brain

Chapter Two: Cold As Ice

Pairing: Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x Tom "Iceman" Kazansky

Chapter Characters: Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Tom "Iceman" Kazansky, Nick "Goose" Bradshaw, Ron "Slider" Kerner, Dick "Jester" Hetherly, and Charlotte "Charlie" Blackwood

Rating: 18+ Only! Minors DNI

Tags: Pining, explicit language, suggestive sexual thoughts, drinking, military talk, Goose is getting suspicious, Ice is possessive, and Mav can't seem to get a handle on his new feelings, maybe slight angst if you squint, and I think that's it.

Word Count: 1,8k

Beta: @winecatsandpizza

Title Card: Yours Truly

A/N: This will feature some of the same dialogue from the movies. I do NOT own the dialogue but am merely putting my own adaptation of the movies. :)

"So, what do you think of the competition?"

Goose asks while he does up the buttons on his dress whites. 

Maverick stares in the mirror continuing to mess with his hair for the umpteenth time. Seriously, he never cares this much, so why is his stomach in knots over going to the O club? 

He sighs and braces himself on the sink. Mav realizes he's probably making a mountain out of a molehill here, but how else is he supposed to take the snide comment Lieutenant pretty boy shot at him after they were dismissed? 

"The plaque for the alternates is down in the ladies' room."

Maverick scoffs. There's no way he knew he was checking him out during class, right? It was probably just a challenge. The typical two alpha males butting heads until one of them rolls over, kind of challenge. Well, if that's what pretty boy wants then that's what he'll g-

"Mav! Hey! You listenin' to me?" 

He jumps at the sound of Goose's voice and turns to look at him. 

"Sorry, I uh…I was just ah…thinkin'."

"You sure you're okay, man? You've been acting weird since class this morning." 

Maverick's heart hammers against his chest. Goddammit, why does he have to be so fucking transparent? Maybe he should just wear a sign around his neck that says 'Hello, my name is Pete "Maverick" Mitchell and I've got it bad for a pilot with blonde spiky hair and blue eyes'. 

"Yep. I'm fine. Let's go. I'm ready for a beer." 

The lively atmosphere of the Officer's Club washes over them as they walk through the wooden doors. 

"This is what I call a target-rich environment." 

Maverick smiles up at his best friend before taking a look at all the beautifully dressed women. Goose rolls his eyes and slaps him on the shoulder.

"You live your life between your legs, Mav."

"Goose, even you can get laid in a place like this." 

Nick chuckles, "I'm tellin' ya, I'd be happy to find a girl who'd talk dirty to me." 

They approach the bar and open a tab, taking a seat on the only two open stools in the place. Goose nudges him and nods to a figure standing across the room. 

"Mav, you wanna know who the best is?" 

He moves his gaze in the direction Nick nodded and nearly chokes on his own saliva when his eyes land on none other than Lieutenant pretty boy. 

Okay, he's electing to ignore the fact that his best fucking friend just referred to someone else, other than him, as the best because how in the fuck can someone look so good?! 

He isn't even doing anything. He's just standing there wearing his stupid fucking aviators sipping some mystery drink with a girl hanging off his arm like she needs him to help her stand up. 

Maverick squeezes the neck of his beer bottle until his knuckles turn white. He's never been the jealous type, but seeing this woman give pretty boy 'fuck me' eyes gives him a bad taste in his mouth. 

"That's him. Iceman. That's the way he flies, ice-cold, no mistakes. Just wears you down. You get bored, frustrated, do something stupid, and he's got you."

Mav opens his mouth to respond, but Goose cuts him off, instead turning his attention to someone else. 

"Hey, hey, Slider!" He grabs at the taller man's uniform where he has his pinned wings, "I thought you wanted to be a pilot, man. What happened?" 

Ron rolls his eyes, "Goose, you're such a dickhead."

Maverick snorts at their back-and-forth banter, bringing his bottle of beer to his lips. 

Before he can even think about taking a drink he sees the so-called Iceman stalking straight towards them. 

He takes a long gulp of liquid courage and swallows as Ice stops directly in front of him.

"Hey, Mother Goose! How's it goin'?"

Nick shakes his hand, "I'm doin' good, Tom. This is Pete Mitchell. Tom Kazansky." 

So, he's finally got a name to put with Lieutenant pretty boy's face. Maverick looks him up and down, takes his outstretched hand in his own, and prays to whatever deity will listen that he gets through this conversation without giving himself away. 

"Congratulations on Top Gun." 

Fuck, his eyes are even more captivating up close. 

Mav smiles softly up at him, "Thank you." 

"Sorry to hear about Cougar. He and I were like brothers in flight school. He was a good man."

Pete raises an eyebrow, "still is a good man."

Tom smirks and pops a piece of gum in his mouth, "yeah, that's what I meant." 

God, this guy is infuriating. "Thought so." 

Ice leans in closer, leaving mere inches between their lips and Maverick feels his stomach flip. 

Yep, he's royally fucked.

"Say, you need any help?"

He chews his gum loudly as he waits for Maverick to answer. And while Mav is more than certain anyone looking in their direction can see the panic written all over his face, he still takes a swig of beer to allow himself a moment to ignore all the explicit thoughts he has rattling around in his brain right now. 

"With what?"

Tom leans down so they're now eye to eye and grins, "You figured it out yet?"

Fucking Christ. 

Maverick feels the panic spread as he tries to make sense of what Ice is talking about. Certainly, he hasn't been that transparent in the last forty-five seconds, but he has had shitty luck before. Nevertheless, he does his best to play it cool and pray his voice doesn't come out as shaky as his hands are.

"What's that?" 

"Who's the best pilot."

Even though his heart is beating like a running racehorse, Mav still sees the split second of Tom glancing down at his mouth. 

Is…is Iceman flirting with him? 

No. No way. He has to be imagining this. 

"No, I think I can figure that one out on my own."

Ice chuckles, "I heard that about you. You like to work alone." 

Whatever response Pete had at the ready dies on his tongue because the way Tom is looking at him right now makes heat pool low in his belly. 

It's almost…possessive. 

Slider clears his throat bringing him back to reality. "Mav, you must’ve soloed under a lucky star, huh? I mean, first the MiG, and then you guys slide into Cougar's spot."

Goose scoffs, "We didn't slide into Cougar's spot. It was ours, okay?"

"Yeah, well,  some pilots wait their whole career just to see a MiG up close. Guess you guys are both lucky and famous." 

Slider takes the shot he's been holding as Ice follows suit and licks his lips, which Maverick definitely doesn't hone in on. 

"No, you mean notorious." Tom deadpans. "I'll see you later." He flashes a perfect smile and sets his shot glass down.

Maverick watches him start to walk away and tries not to stare too hard at the way his ass looks in his dress pants. "You can count on it." 

After a long night of avoiding questions from a suspicious Goose and barely any sleep, Maverick groans as he takes his first sip of coffee. 

"Ugh, I'm never drinking again."

"Yeah, you said that the last time we went out. Nick laughs and jingles his truck keys as Mav winces. "C'mon, we're gonna be late for class." 

Even though they were currently in the shade,  the hanger barely gave them any relief from the heat. 

Jester, their first instructor of the day, is talking about getting intel on enemy aircraft from civilians. At least, that's how Maverick understands it. His head is still currently pounding from the night before though, so he can't be entirely sure what's going on at the moment. He'll just ask Goose later on when he can blink without feeling like he's going to hurl. 

"One of the most qualified is our TAGREP, callsign Charlie. She has a Ph.D. in astrophysics, and she's also a civilian contractor, so you do not salute her. But you better listen to her, because the Pentagon listens to her about your proficiency." 

Maverick slides on his aviators and rests his head in his hand. Thankfully, his headache is finally starting to subside. It's not that he doesn't care about what Charlie has to say, he honestly just wants to get back in the cockpit. 

His ears perk up when he hears her talking about the MiG-28 though. He and Goose are all too familiar with that aircraft. 

"However, the MiG-28 does have a problem with its inverted flight tanks. It won't do a negative-G pushover." 

Maverick snorts as Goose leans in to whisper to him, "Are you gonna tell her?" 

Charlie stops mid-sentence and turns her attention to them, "Excuse me, Lieutenant. Is there something wrong?" 

And so Mav proceeds to explain how he and Goose were in a four-G inverted dive in a MiG-28. And even when Ice calls bullshit, he goes on to explain that not only was he in that position, but he also gave the enemy the bird while his RIO snapped a Polaroid.

Class ends a few minutes later when Jester tells them they have a hop to take with a strict hard deck of ten thousand feet. 

After staying behind to explain to Charlie that she can just read the details of his foreign relations encounter with the enemy, he heads up the stairs to do his preflight with Goose. 

Mav rounds the corner and stops dead in his tracks. 

"Maverick."

Fuck! He knows that voice. That authoritative, yet still soft, voice that makes his knees weak. He'd never admit it though. Not out loud at least. 

Ice pushes off the cement block he'd been sitting on and is in front of him in two strides. 

Jesus… does he have to stand so fucking close?! 

"I'm curious," he fiddles with the clasp of his watch until it clicks into place, "who was covering Cougar while you were showboating with this MiG?" 

Pete somehow manages to keep his own voice steady, though he's not sure how since Tom's giving him that look again. The one that makes him want to drop to his knees and take what he's given. 

He doesn't, of course, because why on earth would Iceman be into him? He's just being cocky. Something he'd be doing right back if his heart would just slow down for once. 

"Cougar was doing just fine," he grins. 

"Uh-huh." 

Normally, Mav would have told Kazansky to shut his fucking mouth, but instead, he walks away because he can't trust himself around Ice. 

Not when all he wanted at that moment was to slam him against the nearest wall and shove his tongue down his throat.

Among a list of various other things.

[atmilliways]

Wrong On The Money (51)

part 51 of 55 | 1894 words | Teen+

Blackmail fic on Ao3 | on tumblr

Summary:

Robin can’t believe what she’s hearing.  That Eddie, who knows a thing or two (hundred) about being treated like a freak, who’d fought with them in the trenches of saving the world from unknown horrors, would do something like that. To Steve. 

You'll notice I have at least an estimate for the final chapter count now. I always love seeing notes like this on other fics, where the author is like "Okay I think it's just one more chapter guys" and you glance up to the fic info on the Ao3 page and there's definitely like, five more. We'll see how well my optimism ages.

Anyway, have some protective Robin rage from her POV!

51.

The phone rings late a few nights after Starcourt, jolting Robin out of an uneasy sleep. She shoots out of bed, racing for it before her parents wake up. She manages to get downstairs and down the hall in just a few more rings and snatch it up.

“Hello?” she whispers. 

“Robin?”

Her hands clench on the plastic handset at the sound of Steve Harrington’s voice coming down the line. “Steve!? What’s wrong, are you okay? Did something happen?”

“‘M fine,” Steve rushes to assure her, stumbling over his words. “I’m fine. I just. . . . I’m calling to say I’m sorry. For dragging you into this shit, 's my fault because you were working with me, and Dustin can’t talk quiet worth a damn, and. . . . I’m so, so fucking sorry.”

Okay, not so much stumbling as slurring. Okay. Steve Harrington is calling her drunk in the middle of the night. Sure, that’s a relatively normal thing to happen after . . . everything. 

“Have you been drinking?” Robin hisses. “You’re drinking with a head injury?”

“I’m, ‘m drinkin’ by myself,” Steve mumbles, and he sounds so young when he says it. She wants to crawl through the phone line and hold his hand. 

“Where are your parents?”

There’s a long silence on the other end of the line, and then Steve says, “On a business trip.”

“Still? I thought you called them.”

“Yeah, they. . . . It’s an important trip. Meeting. Thing, I d’know.”

Robin chews on her bottom lip. On one hand, she barely knows Steve, really. She has no idea what his home life is like, but it doesn’t seem great that his parents know about his concussion, broken ribs, etc. but still didn't bother to come home and look after him. That’s what parents are supposed to do.

On the other, this is the guy who loudly drew the Russians’ attention so they took him for interrogation instead of her. And even if that was plain old sexism on the Russians' part, he’d still run his mouth even after being pummeled, insisting that she wouldn’t tell them anything. They’d almost pulled off his fingernails, for fuck’s sake.

“Steve,” Robin says firmly. “I can get to your place in fifteen minutes on my bike, okay? I’m gonna hang up and do that, and can you do me a favor while I do?”

“Of course Robs, anything,” Steve slurs easily, and goddammit. This dingus is going to end up being her best friend, isn’t he?

“Drink a glass of water for me while you’re waiting, okay?”

“Okay,” he replies. She can practically hear him nodding, which also can't be good for the already bruised brain knocking around in there.

She gets there in under ten, discarding her bike halfway up the driveway and darting up to the front door in case any of the neighbors are awake at this hour. It’s unlocked, and for a moment she’s frozen with terror at that fact—what if the Russians are back and they’ve tracked Steve down? What if they’re here? 

But then she goes inside and finds Steve in the most bland foyer she’s ever seen, sitting on the carpeted stairs with his head in one hand and a half empty glass of water in the other. He looks up at her approach, eye and cheek and lip still swollen. It looks like he got chewed on and spit back out, and all she can think of is how small his voice had sounded over the phone. 

Mr. Popular, Mr. Cool, cries on her shoulder while telling her how sorry he is again. He tells her about Nancy’s friend Barb and how she died in an alternate version of his pool because he’d thrown a stupid party. He tells her about bullshit  and like we didn’t kill Barb and Nancy leaving him for Jonathan Byers until he’s hiccuping—

When he throws up on her shoes he apologizes for that too, and she womanhandles him upstairs to his room and the attached bathroom with her thoughts racing. 

Steve Harrington used to be a total douchebag. She hadn’t been wrong about that. But this is a totally different Steve, stumbling and full of guilt and a hefty portion of his dad’s liquor cabinet. This is, actually, a lot like Steve on Russian truth drugs. (There’s even a bathroom this time too, Steve hunched over the toilet and Robin trying to keep his hair out of harm’s way.) This is the boy who doesn’t treat her like a freak for liking girls instead of guys. The only person she’s ever told her secret, and isn’t holding it over her head the way she’s always had nightmares about. (Her nightmares have plenty of new material to work with now, anyway.)

He’s all alone, and not taking very good care of himself when left to his own devices after a buttload of fresh trauma, from the looks of it. So. 

Robin is going to be here for him as much as she needs. Not because she owes him or anything, but because this Steve deserves to have someone relentlessly in his corner. And since his parents seem to have abdicated that responsibility, that someone will just have to be her.

-

Robin can’t believe what she’s hearing. 

That Eddie, who knows a thing or two (hundred) about being treated like a freak, who’d fought with them in the trenches of saving the world from unknown horrors, would do something like that. To Steve. 

But there’s also Wayne Munson, who she knows now. Not as well as Steve, who looks more comfortable in this house than she’d ever seen him back in his parents’ place, but he’s a good person. A kind man, someone she can’t fault Steve for helping to save. 

The two things don’t fit in her head, and she has to pace while trying to wrap her brain around it because otherwise she feels like she might explode. 

“Okay,” she says, finally wheeling on him with a glare. “Okay. So you knowingly let some guy blackmail you, homophobically and hypocritically, because you thought he was hot and Dustin was sad?”

“Well—”

“And,” she interrupts shrilly, “you didn’t tell me. You hid not having enough money to eat—”

“I still ate,” Steve protests. “And I learned to make all those casseroles, you love those!”

Robin storms back over to the couch. There aren’t any decorative pillows like there had been at his parents house, because the Munsons don’t go in for that extra frills sort of shit. She snatches one of the cushions instead and thumps him on the head with it, making him drop his pizza in his lap.

“Aw shit, toppings side down. . . .”

“Steve,” she snaps. 

He looks up, holding the rescued slice in his hand and licking a glob of red sauce he’d scraped off his jeans off his other thumb. “I didn’t tell you,” he agrees, voice heavy. “You would’ve tried to talk me out of it and I couldn’t just. . . . Not after Barb.”

“Just because Nancy said so doesn’t mean what happened to Barb was your fault, Steve,” Robin reminds him. She's about ready to throw the entire cushion at him in frustration because they’ve had so many talks about that now. Has none of it stuck?! “But guilt or not, that doesn’t make what Eddie did okay!”

“I know,” Steve says quickly. He’s got those big damn puppy dog eyes that all but bleed sincerity. “I know it’s not okay. And that it’s not my fault about Barb.” There’s pepperoni and veggies on his leg; he starts picking them up and putting them back on his pizza. “I didn’t know that if I’d done something different, she might not have died. But I knew that about this, okay? Eddie was working himself to death and it still wasn’t enough, and I knew I could help.” 

The without getting the shit kicked out of me goes unspoken, but Robin knows his track record with that and can read between the lines. It’s almost definitely the easiest time he’s had saving a life since 1983.

But still.

"Blackmail isn't the cornerstone of a stable loving relationship, Steve!"

“I know.” Steve sighs, and goes to rake a hand through his hair before remembering just in time that it’s covered in pizza sauce and grease. “I know. . . . We’ve saved each other's lives though, Rob. And we’ve talked it all out, okay?”

She frowns, squeezing the couch cushion in frustration. “Not okay.”

“Come on. I know it was a shitty thing to do, and so does Eddie. You forgave me for years of being a douchebag, can’t you forgive him for this one thing?”

One thing. One thing, when said thing was threatening to out someone? Holding it against their throat, against Steve’s throat, like a broken bottle with actual intent to spill blood? How could she possibly, possibly not hold that against Eddie, when just the thought of it made her adrenaline spike and pulse race because being forcibly outed in Hawkins fucking Indiana is literally her own worst nightmare?!

Or, well. One of.

Steve is still giving her the damn puppy dog eyes. He looks so sad, whereas he’d looked so happy a moment ago, in a dumb, goofy, sappy way that she’d never quite seen from him about any of the parade of girls he’d gone out with since after Starcourt. It’s almost as though he thinks his epic quest to find The One (she can never help but crack a smile when she thinks of it as ‘finding his Suzie,’ and she’s upset right now, dammit, this is no time for grinning) has finally come to an end.

With Eddie Munson, who until ten minutes ago she would have said was a nerdy but perfect match for him. 

And, okay. She doesn’t want to be the reason Steve looks sad. He’s old enough to make his own decisions, and if he seems happy with them then it’s not up to her to rip that happiness to shreds, even over perfectly reasonable concerns. 

After a long moment Robin drops back into the couch next to him, clutching the cushion to her chest. “I still wish you’d told me. I would’ve shared my food with you. I would’ve known not to bum off of yours, and forced you to take gas money!”

“Robs, no,” Steve groans, then shoves a big bite of his messed up pizza slice in his mouth and keeps talking around it. “I told you a million times, I don’t want to be treated like a taxi driver.”

As if she doesn’t know for a fact that he threatens Dustin and the rest of the kids that he’s going to start charging for rides at least once a week. He’d explained to her once—after a night hanging out with Argyle and the rest of the older Hawkins crew, and everything had been hilarious at the time—that he doesn’t want the little shits to take it for granted and act as entitled as he used to.

Steve Harrington is too fucking good for his own good these days, even if he is a total dingus about it a lot of the time. 

And she’ll deal with Eddie later. Right now she’s hanging out with her best friend, and that’s far more important than putting the fear of Robin into a skinny metalhead.

[marshmellowtea]

um. so. y'all are not going to believe this but i've had this goddamn fic finished for MONTHS but i fucking FORGOT??? IT WAS HERE??? IT'S JUST BEEN SITTING IN MY DRAFTS BECAUSE I FORGOR I HAD THIS BASICALLY FINISHED FIC JUST WAITING TO BE EDITED AND PUBLISHED HGKLDSJFLKSD 😭

ahem. anyway. sorry for yelling lmao. onto the actual fic summary—basically, i decided to write this silly little thing about human, arospec lila trying to talk about a newly formed crush with an aroacespec will. it's very silly and fluffy and writing it made me giggle a lot, don't expect much angst here, aside from like a sprinkling of it for flavor lmao. that being said, small warning for some toxic queerplatonic partner vibes between will and lila, but the vibe is still mostly lighthearted, it's not too heavy or extreme. also, they're working on it, okay :') they're teenagers who grew up in abusive/traumatizing environments (which isn't referenced in the fic but it definitely shapes the way i characterize them), they don't exactly know how to navigate a healthy relationship yet but they're trying goddammit dskjfkdsafj

.....uh, if it's not obvious, i don't remember how i do summaries on tumblr fics ngl. there'll probably be a cleaner one when this gets posted onto ao3 in a day or two, so watch out for that if you'd prefer to read this on there :P tbh depending on how tired i am when i get home from work i might just go ahead and post it on there later today anyway oops

anyway, onto the fic now, hope y'all enjoy! :)

William's curled up on his side, his upper body in Lila's lap and her hands kneading though his hair in a way that mostly feels good, when she suddenly asks the question.

"Is it called a crush because you want to crush them?"

If this were closer to the beginning of their friendship, when he wasn't already used to weird comments like these from her, William might've sat up in shock, giving her a wide eyed expression of surprise she loves to make fun of him for. This is far from the most outrageous thing she's ever said to him at this point, however, so instead, he just furrows his brow and shifts in her lap a little, not even bothering to open his eyes.

"Lila, what on earth are you talking about...?"

She's quiet for a moment, her hands pausing in his hair. He lets out a little whine at the loss of feeling, and she huffs softly before continuing, using a little bit more of her nails than she was before.

"Let's say...like...maybe there's this person someone thinks is...pretty," she says, the words awkward and stilted in a way he's never heard from her before. "And because they're so pretty, that person keeps...fantasizing about...squeezing them. In their arms. Or under them."

"Ew," he says on instinct, his fingers moving to fiddle with the black ring around the middle finger of his left hand. "Is this hypothetical person you, Lila?"

"No, dumbass!" she says, and, well, that almost sounds convincing. "I'm just...asking. For a friend."

"But I'm your only friend?" he asks, genuinely confused. His confusion then turns to pain, however, as she pulls on his hair—apparently she found that insulting. "Ow! Lila!"

"I have friends. Mainly friends you picked out for us—" and here, she huffs, sounding put upon about his choice in companionship, as though she has no choice in whether she hangs out with them too, "—but friends nonetheless."

...okay, admittedly, he understands where the offense came from now. But still, she claims that he's her only friend enough that of course he would make that assumption, and it's kind of not fair for her to punish him for words he's repeating from her. And also, he must reiterate, ow.

"Anyway, it's for a friend," she insists, sounding a bit wounded. "God. Don't be a smartass, Will, it's not flattering on you."

"I'm not trying to be a smartass, you're just—ugh, nevermind," he grumbles, letting his eyes flutter open and sulking at a vague point in the distance. His hand drifts toward the hem of her skirt, and he plays with it absently, rubbing his fingers over the soft fabric. "Putting all that aside, well...um, sorry to your friend, but I don't think I'm the right person to ask about that. I still don't really...understand all that stuff."

"Ugh, right, I forgot you were a fucking loser."

"I'm not a loser!" he protests, but he immediately feels childish for it. He flips onto his stomach to hide his face in her lap, and is instantly rewarded with one of her hands on the nape of his neck, a warm, comforting weight. "That stuff is just...really complicated..."

"Yeah, well, that's cuz you're a loser who's bad with people, it's okay to admit it."

There's a twinge of fondness to the insult, and despite himself, he finds himself smiling a little at her tone. Still, he decides to retaliate by lightly pinching her on the calf, just under the crook of her knee.

"Ow! Will!"

She then retaliates to him by pulling on his hair again, harder this time despite only using one hand this time. He lets out a sharp cry of pain and smacks her on the knee, pulling out of her lap briefly to escape her wrath. She drops her hands once he's fully off of her and sitting up on his knees, and he scowls at her unamusedly. She scowls back at him, the two of them staring at each other for a moment with equal mild annoyance.

Then, face unchanging, Lila pats her thigh, looking even more annoyed when he doesn't immediately lay back down. "Well?"

He huffs, but obliges, flopping back in her lap, this time on his back so he can continue to scowl at her. One of her hands returns to his hair, and the other one grabs one of his hands, though it feels less like she's just trying to hold his hand and more like she's trying to restrain him from pinching her again. Which, really, is super unfair, given that he only pinched her because she was being mean to him. And she pulled his hair first. And because she always does shit like that to him, and he deserves a chance to defend himself...

...but she is petting his hair in a way he likes again, and her face has softened a little, her lips now in that tiny but genuine sort of half smile he's only seen her use on him. He smiles back at her, wobbly and crooked but just as genuine, letting out a little laugh despite how genuinely annoyed he was moments prior.

"You're the worst," he says, and though he kind of means it he also says it with all the affection in the world. "I am sorry I can't answer your question, though."

"Hey, you also suck," Lila says back, but she coos it in the same tone you'd use on a mischievous kitten. "And it's fine, honestly. It wasn't a serious question, anyway. I was just wondering."

They fall quiet for a moment, and William's eyes fall to their enjoined hands, watching as Lila idly traces his fingers with her thumb. He's struck, then, with the oddest thought—that being, the thought that he does love her, in some weird way, despite the constant bickering and occasional minor physical attacks. That no matter how hard she makes it for him, he cares about her, and he wishes she would let him do that without constantly trying to fight on him on it. That he's glad she loves him too, in her own weird way, because he knows she does but he rarely gets to hear her say it out loud.

Not that he could ever say all that to her, of course. She'd probably just make fun of him.

Instead, he says, "If it is you with the crush...you know I'd be here to listen if you wanted to talk about it, right?"

He's fully prepared to let the conversation end there, but she surprises him by letting out a sigh and saying, "I don't even know if it is a crush."

He raises his eyebrows at that, trying not to get too excited at the information he was just given. She'd hate it if he said it out loud, but she's really easy to scare away on these rare moments where she's being open or vulnerable. "What do you mean?" he asks, trying not to let his voice soften too much.

She groans loudly at that, but she hasn't stopped talking, which, score. "I dunno, William, like...the crush question was kind of a joke? But it also kind of wasn't?"

"...elaborate?"

She groans louder, loud enough to startle him a little. She must feel him jump, because she gives his forehead a light pat before entangling her fingers back in his curls, the hair petting having mostly stopped now. "When I think about this person...I want to hold them as tight as possible and not let go. And squeeze their hand and just...hold it. And..." She grimaces, like it pains her to admit it. "And kiss them, maybe. On their stupid fucking face. Among...other things that I suppose I will graciously spare you."

She taps his ring as she says that, making him giggle. "Thank you. I appreciate that," he says, smiling broadly up at her for a moment, before his face falls back into an inquisitive frown. "Uh, but, Lila? I'm no expert, but that...kind of sounds like a crush? I think?"

Lila chews on her lip for a moment, as if considering what she's going to say next. When she finally speaks, William feels his heart cease to beat in his chest.

"I know, but like...a lot of that is stuff I want to do with you."

William feels his face grow hot, and he stammers, ice cold panic rushing through his veins. Yeah, he loves Lila, but it's not—it's not like that, he's not comfortable with—she knows he's not—

"Not the—not the sex stuff!" Lila says suddenly, giving him a harsh shake. "I didn't say I wanted to do all of that with you, take a fucking breath, Will!"

Oh, he did stop breathing for a second there, didn't he? He inhales deeply as she told him to, letting her lightly push him upright into a sitting position on the bed. He twists around a bit so the two of them are side by side, and she immediately tugs him closer until his head is on her shoulder, awkwardly patting his back in a way he thinks she thinks is comforting. It's a little much, honestly, given that his moment of panic really was just a moment—it was instant relief hearing that she wasn't into him in that way, and it was kind of silly for his brain to jump to that conclusion in the first place anyway since he mostly knows where they'd drawn the lines in their relationship, even if they've never properly talked about it—but he likes these rare occasions where she attempts to fuss over him, so he's not going to protest it. It's kind of sweet, really, even if it's obvious that she has no idea how to comfort another human being.

"Ugh," she says, sounding more embarrassed than exasperated. "Ugh, I said that in the stupidest way, sorry." Then, after a pause, she adds, "I mean...it's all just stupid, anyway."

"Aww, no it's not," William says gently, very comfortable in his place nestled against her side. "I guess I get what you mean though. I know I don't have a crush on you, but I like cuddling you and stuff. I'd also feel weird if I suddenly felt the same thing toward someone else but with...other stuff too."

"Yeah," Lila says, sounding mopey. Probably because she's moping, if he had to guess. "It's not just that, either, wanting to touch this person the way I touch you also feels...different. Different in a way that's hard to pin down." She grabs his hand, having lost it in the shuffle of him sitting up, and once again starts tracing his fingers, running her thumb from the back of his hand, over his knuckles, down to his fingernails. "Like when I do this, it's nice, but I don't do it and think about you as my boyfriend. That'd be disgusting."

William barks out a laugh at that. Technically, it could be an insult toward him, but... "I understand what you're getting at, yeah. I want to be close to you, but you're not, like, my girlfriend or anything, and I wouldn't really want you to be. You're just my friend, but, like...a friend I want to cuddle sometimes."

"Stop saying that we cuddle," Lila scoffs, but the usual harshness of her tone is still rather muted. "But...yeah. Exactly. It's different, and it's weird."

William hums sympathetically, giving her arm a light pat. "Yeah," he says quietly. "That does sound weird." Then, after a pause, "I'm sorry. I wish I could help you more."

Lila huffs, letting her cheek rest against his head. "I wish you could help me more too," she bemoans, interlocking their fingers and giving his hand a light squeeze. "But, whatever. Just talking about it was nice, so you're not completely useless..."

Once again, William just chuckles at that. He can hear the unsaid Thank you in her voice, and he appreciates it, even if he does wish she would just be straightforwardly nice to him sometimes. Hell, not even just to him, oftentimes he wishes she would be nice in general.

But...she's working on it. He thinks. There's been a notable difference in the way she speaks to Martha, Ellie, and Regina, anyway. She's still on guard around Jim and Mike, and god, he doesn't really know what her deal with Tanya is, but she's friendlier with those three, at least. And...she's been more gentle with him, too. At the very least there's been less pinching.

He's proud of her. Which is another thing he can't tell her if he doesn't want her to laugh in his face, but, hey. Maybe one of these days.

"...you wanna lay down now?"

Her question pulls him out of his introspection, and William hums in assent, finally pulling his head off of her shoulder. "Are we gonna take a nap now?" he asks, rubbing at his face absently. "I got pretty close to falling asleep before, well, you know."

She sniffs, pulling her legs up on the bed and stretching out behind him, her arms and legs reaching each end of the mattress before she rolls back onto her side and brings them back in again. "I mean, you can sleep if you want. I don't know if I will."

"You're not at all tired?" he asks, curling up on his side next to her. They're face to face, now, and he can see the exhaustion in her face, as well as the slight flush left over from their conversation.

"Not really," she sniffs. "I mean, I don't think I am enough to fall asleep. I just want to rest my eyes a little."

"Oh, okay," he says, scooting a little closer to her. "I might fall asleep. You didn't want to talk more, did you?"

Lila shakes her head rather than verbally answer, and William smiles to himself. She's probably going to fall asleep too, judging by the way she's gotten quieter, but even if she doesn't, he knows she'll let him sleep if he needs to. Unless something important happens. Or if she gets too bored, which is something important in Lila's eyes.

She kind of is the worst, but luckily for her, he kind of does love her.

He lets his eyes fall closed then, pressing further into her warmth until he's tucked up under her chin. She doesn't fight him on it, instead wrapping a loose arm over him, and he knows he's very close to drifting off when he hears her ask one last thing.

"You're really not going to ask who my hypothetical crush is on, are you?"

It's an interesting remark—it almost sounds like she's disappointed. Still, it's not interesting enough for him to open his eyes. "I kinda figured I wouldn't be able to get it out of you," he mumbles, his voice muffled by her collarbone. "Why?"

"...I dunno. I just thought you would ask," she says, starting to sound close to sleep herself.

"Did you want me too?"

"No." She says it too quickly. And then amends, "Maybe..."

He laughs sleepily, resting one curled up hand on the small of her waist, wanting to be closer, trying to absorb the warmth she's emanating—she's always run weirdly warm, while he runs weirdly cold. He tries not too think too hard about the way that makes them fit so well together. "Tell you what. When I wake up, I'll pester you about it as much as you want me to. Is that okay?"

"I didn't want you to pester me," she protests, scowl audible in her voice. "Just ask."

He laughs again, suddenly overwhelmed with a feeling of contentment. "'m gonna pester you so hard," he mumbles, picturing the dirty look he knows she's giving him despite his still closed eyes. "'m not gonna leave you alone until you give me answers. S'only fair."

"How's that fair?"

"I mean...you pester me when I try to keep secrets from you."

"I don't..." Lila protests, but she sounds amusingly unsure. "Besides, since when did you try to keep secrets from me anyway...?"

"Mm. I stopped tryin' cuz you'd always get them outta me."

"Well, that just sounds like your fault."

"...maybe you've got me there," he mumbles, chuckling softly. "I jus' think it's my turn to needle somethin' out of you this time, mmkay?"

"Yeah, well, good luck with that," Lila grumbles, making him giggle more.

The two of them then lapse into a comfortable silence, aside from their quiet breathing. William is just about asleep when he feels more than hears Lila murmur something against his hair.

"Love you, Will. No matter what happens."

He smiles widely at that. She must think he's asleep—rarely does she say that she loves him without him saying it first. Even then, he usually receives it with a (nonetheless fond) eye roll, so hearing it now sounding so genuine is a nice treat.

"Love you too, Lila," he mumbles back, his voice slurred from exhaustion. "Love you so so much."

Given the way she tenses, he was probably right in thinking that she thought he was asleep. Still, she doesn't respond with a protest or a quip like she normally does, whether because of her tiredness, or maybe she just wanted to let a nice moment linger for once. Either way, he'll count that as a win.

It doesn't take him long to drift off after that, the smile not leaving his face even as he sleeps.

[its-queen-panda-bear]

loneliness

Fandoms: Resident Evil

Ship: Chreon (Leon/Chris)

Word count: 1,837

Warnings: Major character death

Summary: After a mission goes wrong, Leon dies and yet is forced to watch as the man he loves the most destroy himself

A/N: This probably has so many Grammer mistakes because I wrote the majority of it while grocery shopping and edited it at 4am while watching my friend stream RE8. So if you see any mistakes, kindly turn a blind eye and pretend it does not exist

You can also find this on Ao3!!!

Leon could see the way that Chris's armor was cracking.

He saw it in the way that Chris picked smoking back up after having quit nearly seven years ago. He saw it in the way that Chris started throwing himself into his work again, purposely piling on paperwork after paperwork so that he could keep himself busy. He saw it in the way Chris had stopped eating, except for a few bites whenever his hunger became impossible to ignore. He saw it in the way that Chris would reach out for him early in the morning when he first woke up. He saw it in the way that he would avoid looking at the side of the living room where Leon sat.

Chris was breaking and no one could see it. No one except Leon, who felt helpless watching it happen.

Chris had always been so strong. He had been the reason Leon had been able to go on for so long. Each time everything started to become too much and Leon felt like giving up, Chris had always been there to lift him up and give him encouragement to keep moving on and not let go.

It was because he couldn't let go that he was stuck here now, watching the man that he loved destroy himself.

He still remembered that cold February morning. Remembered the way snowflakes caught on his eyelashes as he watched Chris rip his jacket off and press it down over the giant wound on Leon's stomach. He remembered the way his blood tasted in his mouth, bitter and metallic. Chris had pressed so hard on his stomach, but Leon hadn't even felt it because his lower half already started to get numb by that point.

"Stay with me!" Chris shouted at him and Leon saw the tears threatening to spill down his face. Leon always hated seeing Chris cry. "Stay with me, goddammit!"

"C-Chris," Leon muttered out, his voice sounding so pathetic even to his own ears.

"Shh, it's okay. It's okay. I'll get you out of here. You hear me? Just hang on."

His voice sounded so panicked, so scared. Leon hated it. He'd never seen Chris so scared before. His arms felt too weak to move, but he managed to pick one of his hands up and curled his fingers over Chris's hand. "S' okay," he murmered with a horrible wet cough. "Go. You need to– to go."

Chris shook his head viscously, a few tears escaping and running down his cheek. "No. You're going to be fine. I'll–" he cut himself off to scream again into the comms, demanding for the rest of the team to come with a medkit.

"I love you. You're going to be alright. You'll be alright,"

He watched Chris swallow a thick lump down his throat as more and more tears came streaming down his face. "Don't. Don't talk like that. Don't you fucking dare give up on me, Leon!" Chris heaved in short breaths, trying to keep himself from sobbing so that he could stay focused. "I need you, Leon. Please... please hold on a little longer. For me."

Leon wanted to. God, did Leon want to hold on and stay with him, but he couldn't. He knew that and Chris knew it too. He reached a hand up to cup Chris's cheek, accidentally smearing his blood on him in the process. "Take care of yourself for me, Redfield."

Then he was gone with a last gasp of air leaving his lips, his eyes going blank and the hand on Chris's cheek slipping.

Chris clutched at his hand, screaming out in anguish, begging– pleading with him to don't do this, stay with me, don't leave! Please, please don't leave. Chris's heart was breaking, no, shattering into millions and billions of tiny pieces.

There was nothing to be done. Leon was well and truly gone.

Until he wasn't. Well...he was and wasn't. Caught in-between being and not being.

He never imagined that he would witness his own funeral.

He watched as Claire held a sobbing Sherry in her arms, rocking her back and forth while the blonde cried into her shoulder. He watched as Hunnigan went around shaking hands and thanking every person for coming and offered a hug to those who needed it. He watched as Chris politely refused one.

Nearly everyone Leon had known had showed up, except for a small few like Ada. Then again, he didn't expect her to. It had been a few years since they last spoken and her and Chris weren't on the best of terms since, well, forever.

His funeral seemed kind of boring, if you asked him. Claire had hired a priest for the funeral since his family had been Catholic. He rolled his eyes at that, and didn't miss the way Chris did too. Neither of them had been religious, but he supposed it helped gave more comfort to those in the crowd that was. Gave them the hope that he was in a better place. If only they knew he was right there beside them.

Chris stayed strong throughout the entire service. Leon couldn't decide if he was happy about that or not. He hated the thought of having to see Chris breakdown, but he hated the thought of Chris feeling like he couldn't breakdown even more. At least if he did, no one there would've blamed him. He would have his sister and all their friends there to hold him. But instead he stood solid like a statue, the only evidence of his grief being the slight quiver of his lips and tightening his fists when Claire went up to read his eulogy.

Then slowly, everyone started to leave one by one until it was just the Redfield siblings left. Claire stood by her brother's side, holding his hand in silence as they both stood in front of the urn that held Leon's ashes. Neither of them spoke and Leon felt his heart break in two watching them. It was Chris that eventually broke that silence as he picked up the urn and held it close to his chest, before turning around towards Claire. "Let's go home."

Leon had a feeling that he wasn't talking to Claire.

He followed them out into Claire's car and easily slid into the backseat while the siblings took the front, unaware of their extra passenger. Once again, the ride was silent. Claire paid attention to the road, while Chris stared absently out his window, his hands clutching tight onto the urn sitting in his lap. When they finally pulled up to the house, it was Claire, this time, that broke the silence. “Are you going to be okay?”

“Yeah.” Chris answered, his voice sounding distant.

“I could stay with you for a few days.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I know that, but–”

“Caire,” Chris cut her off, finally turning to look at her. There was a moment where they didn’t say anything, but then Chris reached out for her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll be fine. I just… I need to be alone right now.”

“You don’t have to be.” Claire said so softly to him, and Leon could see it in her eyes that her heart was aching for her brother.

“Yeah,” he said. “I do.”

Then Chris got out of the car and Leon hugged Claire one last time before following him.

Chris placed him on the shelf above the fireplace in the living room. He didn’t cry then.

He then went over and set down a picture frame containing Leon’s favorite picture of them. It was on the day they got married in the courthouse. A wedding photographer was already there and had snapped a few pictures of them, free of charge. One of the pictures was Chris looking at Leon with hearts in his eyes while Leon wasn’t looking. Leon always loved the picture and immediately had it framed. That was the picture he had set beside his ashes.

Still, Chris didn’t cry.

He didn’t cry when he placed the flowers taken from the funeral bouquets into a vase and put it on the other side of Leon’s ashes. He didn’t cry when he placed Leon’s DSO dog tags over the urn, allowing them to hang off of it. He didn’t even cry when he set a glass down of Leon’s favorite brand of whiskey. No, he didn’t cry. He stood strong and brave as ever.

Until he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small golden ring with their wedding date engraved on the inside of the band. It was Leon’s.

Leon watched the way Chris looked down at the wedding band, a symbol of their love for each other. And that was the moment the strongest man he ever knew broke down crying. He watched helplessly as Chris fell to his knees on the floor, clutching desperately onto the ring in his hand as sobs wrecked out from his body. His tears seemed neverending as his whole body trembled and shook with grief. Leon felt his own tears wet his eyes and joined his husband on the floor and wrapped his arms around his shoulders, wishing– praying that he could take away all of his pain.

It was the first time Leon had ever seen Chris cry that hard before, but it wouldn’t be the last.

Claire would visit every couple of days. During her visits, she would clean around the house, force Chris to eat whatever she cooked for him, and try to get him to open up to her. He never would, yet she always still tried nevertheless. Though, with time, she started visiting less and less as work and life got in the way.

Over the next few months, Chris hid behind his armor, trying to remain strong and pretend that everything was alright. He would go through the motions of the day, but at night, when the rest of the world was asleep, all Chris could do was cry and all Leon could do was watch. Chris eventually would tire himself out to the point of exhaustion and fall into a restless sleep. Some nights he would sleep through the entire night, other times Leon would watch as Chris jolted away from a nightmare, covered in a thick layer of sweat with his eyes wide and panicked.

Leon hated this. Hated having to watch and not be able to do nothing about it. He couldn’t take away his husband’s pain, couldn’t be there to dry his tears and tell him that everything would be alright. He watched as Chris woke up every morning reaching for him only to be met with cold empty sheets; and Leon would watch as Chris’s hand phased through him each and every time.

They were two lonely souls, yearning for the other's touch. Yearning for something they could never have again.