#bittersweet?

[bellaciaao3]

After the trio finish off Devin, Michael decides to give Trevor a ride to the deceased's mansion so he can get his truck back and return home.

During the trip, a fight ends in the least expected way for Michael.

//////

Michael watched Trevor standing at the edge of the cliff they had just thrown the car with Devin in it, debating what to say and do. Franklin's motorcycle had stopped sounding less than a minute ago, indicating that they were completely alone in the middle of nowhere. Michael deduced that Trevor had left his truck at the Weston mansion and, knowing his friend, the deceased's surveillance would be sitting on the ground until it was reported and the authorities came to check what the hell happened.

Michael found himself in a quandary inside his car. Leaving again sounded like...proving he was still the same.

Deep down, he felt they should talk and tell each other what they should. Trevor had just said he hated it, but when he had the chance to let a bullet go through his skull, he didn't pull the trigger. Trevor was unpredictable, but that insanity wasn't to the point where he could murder him.

Sighing and telling himself he would regret it later, Michael honked the horn a couple of times, getting Trevor's attention. He walked over to the car and leaned out the passenger window.

“Need a ride?”, offered Michael.

Trevor arched his eyebrows and looked around, as if desperately searching for something.

“Is this another kind of deal? I'll get in your car and a bullet goes through the glass? Should I jump off a cliff?”.

Michael sketched a sympathetic smile and shook his head.

“You left your truck at the mansion, didn't you? Hop in, I'll take you there”.

Trevor eyed him suspiciously, which Michael couldn't question for obviating reasons. Still, Trevor opened the door and got into the car. Michael set off.

For the first few minutes of the drive, they said nothing to each other. Michael hadn't even thought to turn on his car radio, sensing that any movement could trigger a fight with Trevor. He glanced sideways at his traveling companion and noticed that he was staring out the window, pensive. Apparently, that last mission had sapped some of his energy.

For Michael, having been for that brief moment they stood together at the edge of the cliff before Franklin arrived, it was like the old days, when they were two young men waiting for their accomplices and wasting time just the two of them, joking, pointing out details or just enjoying each other's company, not talking. Back then, being silent was not awkward, but comforting; a constant reminder of the kind of relationship they shared. Inside the car, however, the first part of the ride was almost suffocating. Neither knew what to say to each other. Michael didn't want to start a fight having managed to do a job together with a spectacular finish and, as far as he was concerned, Trevor was in no mood to argue. He could be wrong, for sure.

“Well, T...”, he began, tapping a finger on the steering wheel.

“Mike...”, Trevor uttered, as if giving him room to continue.

“We made it, huh?”, Michael chuckled under his breath, unsure.

“Yeah...”, Trevor replied, serious. “I can't believe I was finally able to put a bullet in Steven fucking Haines' head”.

“Being patient paid off in the end”.

“I doubt the next time I meet a fucker like him I'll hold back”, Trevor warned.

“I don't doubt it...”.

The conversation died as quickly as it came. Michael felt like he was drowning and Trevor went back to staring out the window, impassive. How hard it was to try to come up with something in common being two people who could barely agree with each other.

“Are you going to talk or do you expect me to jump out of the car at some point?”, snapped Trevor, turning to him.

Michael tightened his grip on the steering wheel, tense. Trevor always got his right by guessing his thoughts. Further proof that, for Trevor, Michael was still gnawing at his mind, not letting go, even if it wasn't what Michael wanted, for any of them.

“Do you want to tell me something?”, ventured Michael to ask. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Trevor's expression struggle to contain the anger he must have been feeling at that very moment.

“Will my words have value or will you step on them again like you did so long ago?”, questioned Trevor. “Like you stepped on me even when I made it clear you were everything to me”.

Michael shuddered at the brutal sincerity that characterized Trevor. He should have expected nothing less from the man with whom he'd shared years of experiences in the world of crime and beyond.

“Tell me whatever you want. We've got a good ride ahead of us”, Michael allowed, trying to be the one to stay focused inside the vehicle.

Trevor clicked his tongue and leaned against the back of the seat.

“You know, Michael”, he began, his voice low. “After everything that happened between us, the first thing I'd like to do now is push you out of the way and take your damn car and let you walk back in”.

This time, Michael didn't react to Trevor's threat, knowing they were empty words. However, he remained silent.

“Or I'd like to be able to torment you day and night, since I'll be the only one doing it without these idiots behind us”, Trevor continued, looking at him strangely. “There are a thousand things I'd like to do with you”.

“And what's stopping you?”, questioned Michael, jaded.

Trevor bit his tongue and his eyes widened at the question. It was the one he could never answer Michael. It was the same when he threatened to cut his chest open and Michael dared him to do it if he wanted to; Trevor couldn't find what to say to him, since it was, as always, an empty threat.

“Can't you tell me?”, demanded Michael.

“Why don't you start and tell me what you got for acting like a good person? Why would you risk having me inside your car?”, questioned Trevor.

Michael exhaled through his nose and kept his eyes straight ahead. He hoped he hadn't made a mistake.

“Maybe...I just wanted to help you”, Michael admitted.

Trevor let out a sarcastic laugh.

“Sure... Right off the bat...”.

“I'm serious”, Michael insisted, cracking a polite smile.

“Well, thank you. I was wondering when you'd show you cared about me”.

“I told you before that I care about you”, Michael said.

“Yeah, before you hounded me not to find out the truth about Brad... A truth that should have been different”, Trevor exclaimed, grudgingly.

“T, it's... It's not that simple”.

Trevor growled dangerously. Perhaps they hadn't been the best words.

“It's not simple to assume that you made a deal that cost one life and could have ended two?”, continued Trevor, feeling anger bubbling up inside him. “Michael, at this point, I feel like it's not even that fucking deal that hurt me the most anymore. You let me believe for ten years that I'd lost you! Can you have the nerve to say you care about me?”.

“That's no lie! Didn't I come looking for you at the factory when I thought you'd been hurt?”.

“It was the least you could do, don't you think?!”.

Michael was about to veer out of his lane. He maneuvered to stay on the right side again and they both fell silent as the oncoming car honked insistently by way of complaint about the near-accident.

“You want me to get out here?”, mumbled Trevor, lowering his gaze. “We're not far...”.

“No, I just... I wish we could talk normally, like...”.

“Like before?”, questioned Trevor. He shook his head. “I'm sorry, Mikey, but in case you haven't noticed, things will be far from the same. Do you really think an apology, come sooner or later, will be able to change the way I feel?”.

“I know I didn't”, Michael sighed. “I know my decisions were shitty and have been to this day. I don't expect you to forgive me now or ten years from now. Only, I want you to know that... I'm not proud of what I did”.

“It's a big step to accept that, M”, Trevor mumbled. “I wish you had done it sooner”.

Michael glanced sideways at him again and decided to take a chance with another question:

“So, if you hate me so much, why are you here? And don't tell me it's because you didn't want to walk. You could have killed me after the Big Hit, inside the factory or at this very moment you could have pulled out a gun and blown my head off. Come on, T, be honest the way you brag and tell me why you're still with me”.

Trevor's expression twitched again, although this time, it wasn't out of anger, but bewilderment. Michael knew perfectly the ways to break Trevor's barriers in one blow, leaving him vulnerable and unable to use his sharp tongue to deliver a brutal response. Instead, Trevor gazed around different parts of the car, mumbling unintelligible words.

“All right, you wanna know, sugar?”, replied Trevor, clenching his right fist. “From the day I found you I felt like doing two things: murdering you or finding a way to drag you with me and keep you there until the end of our days”, he admitted, unabashedly. “And ever since I found out about your deal with the FBI, part of me wanted to choose the option of killing you and if I didn't it was because...”.

Trevor breathed harshly, perhaps not knowing how to continue. Michael realized it wouldn't be that long before they arrived, so he slowed down.

“Why?”, pressed Michael. He needed to know.

Trevor was silent and Michael decided not to press again. He didn't want to risk a more violent fight breaking out.

“Thanks for the ride”, Trevor said forcibly.

“You're welcome”, Michael sighed again. “You won't tell me?”.

Trevor pressed the lever to open the door and bit his lower lip, fighting the urge to say what he wanted.

“Will you keep your word to kill me in the end?”, sneered Michael, assuming Trevor would give him a death glare, an insult, and whip the door down before going to his truck.

What Michael didn't expect was that Trevor would turn to him with a serious look that wasn't enough to cover the sadness he clearly felt.

“No”.

“...Why, you don't feel capable anymore?”.

“Because I thought you died before and I lost too much. If you died now, this time for real..., I would lose everything”.

Michael was too shocked by the sincerity in Trevor's words to say anything. Trevor stood waiting a moment for him to respond and when nothing came out of his mouth, he exhaled, annoyed, and opened the door.

Michael was quick to grab him by the wrist, preventing him from leaving.

“...I don't want you to walk away”, Michael muttered, not looking at him.

“I still have to take my truck”, Trevor said, mockingly.

“You know what I'm talking about!”, exclaimed Michael, without letting go.

“Yes, I do”.

Trevor remained too silent for Michael's liking. He wasn't normal. Michael would have preferred him to insult him again, to yell at him and berate him for anything, as long as he wasn't silent. When he felt overwhelmed, he turned to Trevor, but he couldn't bring himself to speak to him. Trevor grabbed Michael by the back of the neck with his free hand and pulled him to him to kiss him rather roughly. 

Trevor didn't loosen his grip and Michael didn't try to pull away or push him away.

Of course, Michael wasn't the only one who knew how to break down people's mental barriers. It wasn't the reaction he expected, but he couldn't say he was going to complain or punch Trevor for surprisingly kissing him. He didn't want to do either of those two actions.

They broke apart and Trevor held a cocky grin, enjoying the short circuit Michael's mind was dealing with.

“Does it mean you don't hate me that much?”, asked Michael, trying to regain his composure.

“It means what it means, Mikey-boy”, Trevor replied. “Are we going out later in the week?”.

“If that's the way you want it...”, Michael agreed and was surprised at how shy his voice sounded.

Trevor winked cheekily at him, got out and went to his truck. Michael waited for him to get out before driving off himself as well.

As he drove, trying not to let his mind make him crash at the thought of the kiss and the feeling afterwards, he got a message that he managed to see at the next stoplight.

The words he read made him laugh.

Tell me the truth, do I kiss better than Mandy?

[fandom-animals]

how we feeling wwdits fandom ? 👀

[jon-withnoh]

Beatrice pulled the bedcovers up to her chin. The darkness lay heavy all around them, pleasantly cool on her overheated face. She reached out her hand, searching until she found Danny’s.

So close to her, but still barely visible, Danny sighed. “We should go to sleep.”

“I know, but…”

“But?”

“But if I sleep, it will be morning and you’ll be gone.”

Danny squeezed her hand.

“What if I don’t ever want to let you go?”

“Then I would say you’re fresh out of luck.”

“How very romantic of you.”

“Romance is for those who can afford it, my love.”

— Prompt 7: late nights

[turtles-allthewaydown]

Just posted a short Huskerdust one-shot titled Twins. Post-coital cuddling turns to a discussion of people they left behind in the living world. Rated G, fluff with only a tiny bit of angst. Enjoy.

[sadcholy-blog]

Yandere! Saddy. She has a same clothes and appearance, but different colors. Just like Yandere! Void, teehee.

She's a type of yandere, who wouldn't kill or trap their love interest; she's not jealous either and won't do anything to people for no reason.

But, damn, this girl will do anything to people, who Void was really disappointed in; who made him angry or mad; who made him annoyed.

For her, they're his potential enemies.

And she doesn't like seeing him unhappy...

[donutdrawsthings]

People all over the world are thinking of you!

[chloesimaginationthings]

Springtrap making friends in Dead by Daylight,,

[avenoirn]

brothers, wherever we are

[jupiter-suggestion]

consider the sperm whale and the squid. an ancient rivalry that dates back millions of years. we know the whales eat the squids. we know the squids do not make it easy for them. we know this because of the scars the whales carry, scars on the outside of their body, and on the inside as well. how badly must you want something to endure wounds inside your mouth? inside your gut?

consider the whale, who is harmed by what sustains her. consider the squid, whose flesh is soft and delicious but refuses to go down easy.

[hinamie]

in spite of everything, I had fun <3

[everydaylouie]

thank you charles

[dangeroustaintedflawed]

[puppppppppy]

renaissance dogys

characters belong to @canisalbus

[sleeplessdreamer14]

If you honestly think Ford didn't keep a photograph of you on his person during his time in the multiverse like a soldier keeping a locket with a picture of their lover during a war, think again.

[calmao666]

We meet at the appointed place

[lambilegs]

listen, lowkey, I feel like sevika would love interacting with a feisty!reader. like, I get why people headcanon her as preferring a partner who's more submissive or, like, lenient with her. but, I don't know, something tells me she'd relish in having a partner who gives her a hard time. someone who she can bicker and argue with back and forth, someone who doesn't just ride with her shit no matter what. she'd like having someone who actually challenges her, and questions her stances, opinions and strategies. someone who gets her to reflect on her actions and give them even more careful consideration than she already does on her own. someone who makes her think even harder.

and aside from a moral standpoint, she would just playfully love it too. something about you looking up at her with a glare whenever she messes around with you has her abdomen stirring with desire. she feels like a teenager again, vying after the attention of someone who is constantly tiring of her. but, she can't help it. she likes when you punch her arm after she makes a cheap shot at one of the guys she's gambling with at the last drop. when you scoff at something tough she says, and teasingly coo that she's just a big softie, dammit, she can't help but feel like one with the way your words are affecting her. when she jokingly wraps an arm around your shoulders, you shrug her off with an eye roll, and when she props her elbow on your head as though it's an armrest, you pretend to bite at her wrist, to which she laughs and wiggles the mechanical fingers, saying, "you sure you wanna do that?"

sometimes, she tries to flirt with you. she'll ask you to go on a walk with her, or sit with her in her corner of the bar when she does repairs on her arm. hey, who said romance is dead? there've been times where you smile, heave a sigh and drawl out, "well, since there's nothing else better to do," which usually incites her pulling out a chair for you and gruffly sitting on her own, getting to work. it's nice, really. you chatter away, she learns more about you, gets more intrigued, then you leave, and she feels just a bit more hollow. it's a vicious cycle. but, she can't resist going back to it, over and over again. especially when there are little moments where it feels like her feelings might be returned. like when she asks you to do one of the above, and you scoff and say, "why don't you ask one of the girls you saw at the brothel today?"

it surprises her the first time, to say the least. but, she grows to like it. a lot. the way you stiffen up next to her when another woman eyes her with desire, how you snap and glare at her when you hear from babette that sevika paid a visit the night before. it feels like you already have your claws sunk into her before she even got the chance to ask you out. and shit, does she really enjoy that. how possessive you are, how livid you get with her for showing attention to anyone who's not you.

she nearly likes it just as much when you direct that anger to someone else. an ex-friend you're steaming with rage over, a disrespectful enforcer, someone who gives sevika, or actually anyone else in the undercity, shit. the way your nostrils flare with the deep breaths you take, how sweat lines your brow, that motion when your eye twitches. she can't help but admire the intensity of what you feel, and how you have the courage to deliver it to someone who deserves it. whether they fuck with you, your people or the city. and on some occasions, with sevika.