#just yell at me if you want me to stop tagging you

[runninriot]

Lovelorn

written for @steddiemicrofic

november prompt: guard | wc: 532 | rated: G | tags: confessions, misunderstandings, not really unrequited love, implied friends to lovers

"I'm sorry, Steve."

The words hit him like a slap, a harsh contrast to the soft touch of Eddie's lips he can still feel on his own, lingering there, an echo of the kiss they shared just seconds ago.

Steve knows that tone, knows that look, knows what they both mean - this is what he gets for letting his guard down. For ignoring his mind's warnings and following his heart's demands. Foolishly reading something into signs that were none.

Interpreting dimpled smiles and batted lashes as more than what they truly are. Thinking the way Eddie touches him, circles around him, always in his orbit, always so close, means that he, too, feels this gravitational pull. This need for closeness, unable to stay away because apart from each other, they're only half of who they are, who they could be.

But no. It's a one-sided feeling; Steve knows that now. Can read it in eyes that are full of regret and pity, knows Eddie means what he says, that he is sorry, but that doesn't make it better, doesn't help soothe the sting of rejection.

It hurts, fucking rips him apart on in the inside - that's what he gets for carrying his heart on his tongue and shoving it down Eddie's throat without asking for permission first, blinded by the illusion that Eddie would gladly take what Steve offers and give something of his own in return.

"I can't be what you want me to be."

Eddie's eyes fill with tears and there's something utterly wrong about it - why is he the one crying when it's Steve's heart that's breaking?

He takes Steve's hands and it's unfair how nice that feels, how soft and warm they are. How perfect the shape of their fingers melt together when they entwine, sliding into the gaps like they're made to fit.

It's not right to cling to it, to find comfort in the way their palms press together, to let hope bloom in his chest when there is no hope for a happy ending.

"I can't do this-"

Eddie's voice is only a whispered breath against his lips and Steve feels like dying, feels every part of him begging to close the distance just for one last time, just one more taste.

"-not if this only a game to you. Not if you don't mean it. I can't be your experiment, Steve, because- I love you. Want you so much it hurts. And it would kill me to have you if I can't have you for real."

Steve wants to laugh, feels it bubbling up from his chest to his throat but it dies there, dissipates into a sob, something wet and helpless, a pathetic little sound he can't keep in no matter how hard he tries.

"You already have me, you idiot!" he yells and means himself with the insult, doesn't wait for a response, can't stop himself from leaning in.

He kisses Eddie without warning, like before, only deeper, desperate. It's ungraceful and messy but so good because Eddie kisses him back this time, doesn't pull away, stays. Stays where he belongs, where Steve wants him, needs him. Where he'll keep him, forever.

[nocasdatsgay]

A Lesson in Heartbreak

2 of 3: Words are Painful Weapons

Rating: T | Word Count: 3983 | Pairing: Azris/Reader

Summary: Eris and Azriel made promises they didn’t keep. When you confront them about it, Eris says some things he instantly regrets. Now him and Azriel have to fix what they broke.

Neapolitan Bonds Masterlist| Read on A03| Part 1| Read Below

Warnings: Angst, Eris has a sharp tongue, alcohol, drunk!Eris

A/N: HI so… yeah… I am alive. Sorry this took so long. A second shout out to @daycourtofficial for inspiration with Azriel and his comments when he comes back.

Tagging: @myromanempiree @pit-and-the-pen @lilah-asteria @thisblogisaboutabook @hieragalbatorixdottir @mybestfriendmademe @paleidiot @div94 (if you are tagged by accident or want to be tagged in the future, let me know)

“There. A letter to Tarquin and a letter to her.” Eris sent them with a flick of his wrist. 

Azriel calmed enough to sit while Eris penned the letters. They needed you to come home so they could talk with you in person. Deep down, Eris was thoroughly embarrassed over the whole situation. Not only at himself but for you leaving to another court. He wondered if this was how Tamlin felt all those years ago, when Feyre ran off to the Night Court. Eris suddenly had empathy for him in retrospect. 

He slumped back in his chair and sighed. He needed a stiff drink. But he wanted to be sober if you came home. Azriel sat across from him, arms  crossed against his chest and brows furrowed like he did when he was deep in thought. His eyes were still rimmed in red from earlier. The Shadows were nowhere in sight. 

“What?” Eris looked at his mate. 

Az cut his eyes to Eris, still frowning. “I want you to tell me exactly what you said to her.”

“I’m surprised your shadows didn’t already tell you.” Eris didn’t hold back his eye roll or his sigh. “I don’t fully remember.” 

Everything was a blur from earlier. When he got like that, he never remembered what he said. 

“Well think fucking harder.” Eris could see Azriel’s fingers dig into his sleeves. 

“She came in screaming at me about missing dinner.” It reminded him too much of his mother. The way she would yell at his father when he was a youngling. Eris tried to focus, to put that aside. “I told her the high lord meeting was more important. We were hosting, and.”

After a moment Az said, “And what, Eris”

He cursed under his breath. “I said she would understand that if she had bothered to help. Since she isn’t helping, she doesn't get to complain that we are busy. She knew what she was getting into when we mated.”

Azriel recoiled where he sat. “How could you say that to her?” 

“It’s the truth, Azriel.” Eris brushed back his hair with his hand. “This is what it’s like to be mated to a High Lord. We have responsibilities. Yes, I was wrong for implying she didn’t want to help because she asked and I told her she didn’t have to. I admit that.” 

Shadows came out as Az replied. “And we made promises we didn’t keep.”

“I know I did. It eats me alive that I broke them but what else am I supposed to do? It’s our first time hosting, I’ve only been High Lord for a decade and a half. She’s worked for multiple courts. She knows these things have to be perfect or others will talk.” 

“That doesn’t mean we can’t take a break to have dinner with her.” Az countered. 

Eris glared at him. “Do not act like you are any better. You weren’t there either.”

He winced. “You’re right. I wasn’t.” Then he glared back. “But maybe I would have been there if you let other people do their job instead of making it our problem.”

“Oh you’re going to blame me?” Eris was on his feet. “By the gods. I’m always your scapegoat because it’s easy to blame me than for you to look in a fucking mirror.”

“Eris.” A warning, as shadows built around him. 

“Am I wrong?” Azriel didn’t answer. Eris and his sharp tongue kept going. “You blamed me for centuries when it came to Mor. To this court. To my father. Let’s just add this to it.” He paused. Before he could stop himself he added. “It wouldn’t even be a fucking issue if it was just us.” 

Eris felt the shock through the bond from Az before he shut him out. Even the shadows recoiled from around Az.

“What are you saying?”

“I don’t have to repeat myself. We work well together,” he gestured between them, “because we know what to expect from each other. She wants so much more than either of us are capable of.”

Shadows shrunk back again. “That’s not true.”

“It is!” Then words spewed from his mouth like viper venom. “I wish Elain never told us. I wish I never let you get your fucking hopes up, looking for a third bond in every fucking fae you brought to our bed. But I love you, so I let you do it.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Azriel was on his own feet, siphons on his hands flashing. “I always got your consent, you said it was fine. You brought your own-”

Eris’s mouth ran away from him again. He didn’t raise his voice; his tone did the work for him. 

“Maybe I lied. I only took other lovers so you wouldn’t feel guilty. I was just trying to make you happy because I was never enough for you. Even the Mother herself knew. She knew I wasn’t enough for you so she sent us her.” 

Az looked like he’d been struck. Guilt and insecurity Eris had buried for decades laid out on full display. At that moment Eris hoped Azriel hurt just as much as he did. The silence between them was heavy and loud. It was finally Azriel who spoke, his own words sharp and stinging. 

“I never asked to be mated to you. You say this is easier for me and you, but it’s only easy for you. What’s easy is loving her. It’s not my fault you’re too fucked up to know that too.” 

Shadows grew thick around him and he winnowed out of the room. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

You showered and changed into a soft seafoam colored nightgown, given to you by Samira. She was sitting by a small side table reading when you came back into the bedroom. She set her book down and got up from her seat. 

“Did you tell him, Tarquin?” You asked. 

In your haste to get away, you didn’t think about the implications of your actions. Namely as High Lord’s mate seeking refuge in another court. You liked Tarquin a lot. He was kind and you were so happy when Samira and him hit it off. But he was still a High Lord of another court. Samira didn’t look you in the eyes from where she had sat on the edge of the bed. 

“I only told him what you told me.”

“That’s fine,” you said quickly. You got onto the bed and crawled up beside her. “I understand. If you hadn’t told him, I would have.”

“That said,” she put her hand over yours. “You’re here as my guest. Any correspondence will come directly to me unless there is a threat to the court.” 

You winced and she gave you a sympathetic look. Your mates were both known for their tempers. Azriel was well known for his impulsive behavior. You prayed to the Mother that neither of them acted irrationally. A hard thing to hope knowing you sealed this room the moment you entered. 

“Did you want some tea or do you want to rest for the night?” 

“Tea. I need to talk if you’re willing to listen.”

“Always,” she smiled. 

You grabbed a light robe and moved into the small sitting room. She waited as Samira had tea brought to the room. She fixed you a cup, and then she sat down and took her own in her hands. 

“So what happened?”

You let out a heavy sigh, trying to figure out where to start. 

You explained the best you could. How they both made a promise to go to dinner and neither showed. You explained how distant they’d been for months. You explained how Eris told you that dinner wasn’t as important as whatever he was working on with the upcoming summit. 

“He said I knew what I was getting into when we mated. As if I’m not managing his court while his nose is stuck in itinerary lists.” You added bitterly. 

She winced. “And Azriel? What did he say about all this?” 

“He said he was sorry. He lost track of time. Conveniently he was silent when I asked why his shadows didn’t remind him.” You stared down at the tea in your hand. You could feel your eyes water again. “He hasn’t- he has always been more physically affectionate than Eris. Out in public, at least. But he hasn’t even-“

You stopped yourself, your face burning. Samira didn’t need to know how Az hadn’t even called you by a specific pet name in weeks. Eris even longer. And how was you supposed to explain they even stopped just casually touching you? It was childish, to be upset about something so silly. Yet thinking about it just made you cry again. 

You wiped your eyes. “It just feels as if  they don’t want me anymore.”

“They're your mates, of course they want you.”

“Mates doesn’t always mean love, Samira. They did just fine without me for what? Two decades? Maybe longer. Maybe they miss it just being the two of them.” 

“Now you’re talking nonsense. Stop it,” she gave you a pointed look. 

“What if it’s the truth?” You were so sick of crying. You sniffled and wiped your eyes. “They know each other so well. What do they need me for?” 

They didn’t.

That was your whole issue. They didn’t need you. Eris and Az could practically communicate without words. They moved around each other seamlessly. Eris knew exactly how Az liked his tea. Az knew to move papers closer to the inside of the desk when Eris was on a rant, his hands moving about as he talked. Eris knew when to make the spare room without even asking Azriel if he needed it. You tried to watch, to listen. Five years and you still weren’t in tune with them. 

Samira shuffled in her seat, drawing your attention back to her. 

“Eris wrote a letter to Tarquin. I got it while you were bathing. It wasn’t much, just him requesting to know if you were here and if so, that you get this.” She held up an envelope with his seal on it. “I wrote back that I would handle communication and you’d be staying the night.” 

She laid the letter on the table in front of you. Your chest ached, begging you to open it immediately. You shoved it down. 

Samira added, “I informed him that if you want to stay longer, I can’t make you leave. Tarquin has already agreed to allow you to stay as long as you need.”

“Thank you,” you whispered and stared back down at your tea again. 

“Sleep on it. You can have breakfast with us and decide what you want to do in the morning.”

You nodded. Sleep sounded nice now that the adrenaline of the evening had crashed. You drained the rest of your tea and bid Samira good night. You left the letter on the table. You’d read it in the morning. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Eris poured himself the stiffest drink he’d had in decades. The shame and embarrassment of everything was still burning in his chest. He downed his drink in one swing and poured another. Both his mates were gone. He walked over to his desk where the correspondence with summer sat. Your friend had written back instead of Tarquin. He downed his second drink. 

To make things less complicated, I will be handling correspondence until this is resolved. Unless there is a threat to the court, I will not involve the high lord. I promise I will give her your letter in the morning. She was distraught when she arrived and I’ve just gotten her calmed. She’s currently bathing and I will get her some tea to help her sleep. 

There was a break in the letter and she added. 

She has yet to tell me what happened fully, but as her friend I am warning you both that you two better make this right. I will try to convince her to return in the morning, but she is a grown female. If she requests to stay, Tarquin has already told me she may. 

Eris tossed the letter back onto the desk. He doubted once you found out Az left too that you’d come home. It’s what he deserved. 

He was a fool to think he could do this- have two mates. To think he could be any better than his father. Three years mated to you and he still couldn’t control himself. Couldn’t toe the line between work and leisure. Fifteen mated to Az and he still spewed venom in his direction the moment he was cornered. And Eris finally got a taste of his own medicine when Azriel spewed it right back. 

With a heavy sigh, Eris pulled out more parchment and ink. There would not be a high lord summit- not with all of this happening. He’d draft the letters and send them in the morning. If he could sleep at all, with no one sharing his bed. He went and made a third drink. He opened his bonds and see if you or Az would respond. 

Still shut out. The urge to down that third drink was strong. He needed to be sober in the morning even if he didn’t want to be. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Azriel flew until his emotions settled. Eris’s foul words rung in his ears still. ‘I wish Elain never told us’ he’d said. ‘Even the mother herself knew I wasn’t enough for you so she sent her.’ 

His eyes watered and it wasn’t from the wind in them. There was an ache in his chest- both bonds were shut out. He and Eris fought plenty, before and after they reconciled and the bond snapped. Somehow this was still the worst. He ignored his own words that spewed like venom in response to what Eris had said. 

Azriel was angry and hurt. He left- if he stayed any longer the whole Forest House may have been burned to the ground. He circled the border between Autumn and Winter. He couldn't go back, not tonight. He landed in a clearing, stretching out his wings before tucking them back in. He didn’t want to go to Valeris. He had one other option. His shadows seemed to agree, as they circled him and he winnowed. 

He landed outside the wards of Rosehall. The fae lights shown through the window. 

She is awake. a shadow whispered. 

He thought about turning back. He didn’t want to disturb his mother, to bother her with his problems. Yet his feet carried him forward, the wards rippling around him. He tucked his wings in tight and walked to the door. He didn‘t have to knock; the wards were designed to let only few in and to notify her when someone arrived. He could hear the rush of footsteps inside and braced himself as the door opened. 

“Azriel?” His mother answered the door, a navy shawl you made for her wrapped tight around her shoulders, sides shaped to accommodate her wings. “What has happened?”

”I had a fight with my mates.” He said quickly. “They’re fine; I just- I couldn’t stay.”

His mother brushed back loose hair to tuck it behind her ear. He realized her hair was half braided. She nodded, and stepped aside to let him in. 

“I’m sorry, I can go.”

”Nonsense, come in. I just made tea.”

His shadows swirled past him, one or two weaving around his mother. They always loved her; probably more than him if he was honest. He stepped through the frame and looked around. He had visited two weeks ago and already things had changed. His heart skipped, looking into the sitting room. Feyre had taken to decorating his mother’s house with portraits and paintings. The one above the fireplace was of him and his mother. It was a new one on the wall to the left that wasn’t there two weeks ago that made him stop in his tracks. It was of his mother, himself, you, and Eris. From your mating ceremony, based on the clothing and how close together you all were. 

“The High Lady spoils me,” his mother said from his right. “Says my house is too empty. You should see the garden painting she had mounted in the hall a few days ago. Come.” 

He felt her hand grab his own. He could only grip back loosely. He didn’t realize how cold his fingers had gotten from flying. If she noticed, she didn’t say. She led him to the kitchen where a kettle sat on the stove. He sat at the small table and watched almost numbly while she gathered cups and poured the tea. 

“Zemër, tell me what happened.” 

Az looked down at the cup as she sat it in front of him. He wrapped his hands around it, letting the warmth ease the stiffness in his hands. If he was home, Eris would do it for him. He pushed that thought away. He took a few sips, relishing in how the warmth flowed through his chest. His mother waited patiently across from him, braiding the rest of her hair for bed. 

“I said some things I shouldn’t have.” His shadows nudged him on the shoulder. “I made a promise and didn’t keep it.” She hummed and tied off her hair. His voice cracked a little when he added. “I don’t know if I can fix it.” 

There was a beat of silence and his mother took a sip of her tea. “Why do you think such a thing?” 

“Because she left!” He snapped. His mother flinched and shadows hissed at him for raising his voice. “I’m sorry. She left and he- we’ve been so busy and she asked for one dinner and neither of us went. Then she left. And Eris said things. So I said things back.”  

He hated that hot tears fell down his cheeks. And that his mother was looking at him with pity. She reached over and took his hand, holding it tightly in her own. 

“Words are painful weapons and you are the best warrior in all prythian.” That made Azriel snort and she smiled softly. “This is a fight. Not a war. You haven’t lost yet. They are your mates. You love them. If you haven’t given up your love for them, what makes you think they have so easily given up their love for you?” 

She had him there. He gave her hand a squeeze, a gesture of thanks. Then a shadow swirled up his arm quickly. 

We must go. He furrowed his brows. He walks to our balcony. We must stop him. We must go. Go. 

“Shit.” Azriel winced at himself. He hated cursing in front of his mother. “Mama, I have to go. Thank you. For the tea.” 

She watched him stand, not letting go of his hand. “Be careful, my love.” 

Despite the tugging of the shadows he gave his mother a kiss on the forehead. “I’ll see you in two weeks. I promise.” 

She nodded and he winnowed away. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

At some point, Eris wasn’t sure when; he grabbed the whole bottle instead of pouring himself a glass. He couldn’t sleep. Not alone, with his thoughts and past memories hovering around the edges of the bed. They we’re waiting in the dark to grip him when he was most vulnerable. So instead he drank. Drank to numb the emptiness like he used to in the days before. 

One minute he was in his chambers and the next he was stumbling up stairs. There were several balconies in the forest house but there was only one nearest to the roof. He built it for Azriel. It had no railings, just a place for him to take off when he went flying. Az swore he didn’t need it; but he still used it. In Eris’s mind, Az would use the balcony when he came back home.

Because he had to come home. You both had to come home. Eris didn’t think he could bear it if you didn’t. It took him a moment when he reached the door to focus enough to grab the handle. Gods, he hadn’t been this drunk since his youth. Pushing into the room, it was bare- save the single old couch, rug, and unlit fireplace. His gaze fixated on the double glass doors that led to the balcony. If he could just get out there, he could wait. 

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Eris nearly fell over, balance upended by Az’s voice behind him. He grabbed Eris by his shirt to pull him steady. Shadows that had been absent swirled in his vision, grazing his hair and neck as if checking him over. It took a moment for the world to stop spinning and his focus fixated on the male before him. 

“You came back,” Eris whispered. 

“Of course I did.” Azriel’s nose crinkled at Eris’ breath. “You're drunk.”

“Can’t sleep.” He felt his eyes water. He reached for Azriel’s shoulder but Az held him in place. “I’m sorry. I'm so sorry.” 

“Look at me,” Az’s hands were cold as they cradled Eris’ face, forcing him to look him in the eyes. “I’m sorry too.”

“Your hands are cold.” He muttered, his own reaching up to cover them. He wasn’t sober enough to focus his magic like he wanted to. 

“They are.” Az gave him a soft smile. “I’ll live.” 

Eris frowned. “Why did you come back?” 

To Azriel’s credit, he didn’t seem shocked at the question. 

“I came back because I love you.” And Azriel meant it. 

“But you said-“

“I said it’s not easy.” He paused for a moment. “It’s not easy but I choose you. I will always choose you. Because I love you.”

There was silence between them for a moment. 

“She’s not coming back.” 

Az grimaced. “Eris, it’s late. She’s safe in Summer and probably sleeping. Like we both should be.”

“But I need her here.” Eris could hardly bear it. He needed you back. He needed to apologize. “Can’t we go get her?” 

“So you want to start a war with Summer?” Az’s face was serious but there was a tilt in his voice. 

“You’re laughing at me.” Eris replied solemnly. 

“You’re drunk. It’s hard not to.” He sighed, his wings slumping and shadows buzzing about them. “Let’s go to bed and sleep this off.” 

Eris was silent but seemed to concede. Az guided him out the room and back to their chambers. He would have winnowed if Eris hadn’t been so inebriated. He really didn’t feel like cleaning up vomit. 

“You’re too good to me,” Eris muttered as they made their way down the hall. 

Az tightened his arm around him. “I could argue the same.”  

More silence passed. “Do you think she’ll come back?” 

Azriel didn’t reply. He could only hope. His shadows whispered as much as he helped Eris undress in their chamber and get him to bed. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

In Summer, you tossed and turned. The air was too warm even with the cool magical breeze that floated through the open windows. The bed was too small. Too empty. You finally cast a spell on your blanket and pillows, making them colder. How funny you’d gotten used to Autumn's colder climate.

The spell worked too well. You were suddenly too cold, too cold without Eris and Az’s body heat to keep you warm. Tears fell on your pillow. They were probably sleeping fine without you. Your mind went to the letter you left in the other room. You were too afraid to open it. They probably only wanted you home until after the High Lords’ meeting. Or maybe they never wanted you to come back. You pulled the blanket tight around yourself. Whatever the letter said could wait until morning. 

You sighed and tried to go to sleep. 

Part 3

[godmadeaterribleerror]

It Was Smiling Down - A No Love Lost Bonus Chapter

Series Masterlist

Read on A03!

Author's Note: Ryan Butcher I'd die for you. If Eric Kripke EVER does you dirty he will have to answer to me personally. Title from San Francisco by the Mowgli's.

Word Count: 2.3k

Summary/Warnings: A Ryan pov Chapter! Takes place between Chapter 26 and Chapter 27. Usual warnings.

Tags: Soldier Boy/Supe!Female Reader, canon divergence, tooth-rotting fluff, slightly angst, pre-established relationship

Ryan Butcher doesn’t really trust people. As a whole, they haven’t proven themselves to be that trustworthy. They mostly lie to him, or hurt him, or yell at him things that haunt him when he can’t sleep. Things about how he hurts people, when he doesn’t mean to. 

He never means to hurt anyone. It makes him feel heavy and sad and sick, and then the sizzle of flesh or crunch of bones has to be added to his nightmares, along with all the other faces that he did something bad to. Mom said hurting people was bad, and that we should treat others with kindness.

Dad said it didn’t matter. Dad said that people were like toys for them—the stronger, the better, the gods—to play with. That if Ryan broke one or two spines, or smashed four or five people into buildings, or punched a dozen people’s faces into their bodies, it didn’t really matter. The toy box was infinite, so they’d find a replacement. Dad said that humans couldn’t stop reproducing like cockroaches, so killing a few, or a lot, was if anything a favor to the universe.

Ryan had told Her that once. Not what his Dad had said—the mention of Dad always made Her face look sad, and Ben’s face look angry—but that cockroaches reproduced a lot. She’d been visiting him and Ben during training—all of them sitting on the floor, Ryan cross legged and Her leaning against Ben’s body—and Ryan had said it for a reason he couldn’t now remember.

She’d paused, frowning at her sandwich, then looked up at Ryan with a soft, curious gaze. “Do they? I mean, all bugs reproduce quickly for survival purposes, but I don’t think cockroaches are that remarkable at it.”

“I, I don’t know.” Ryan had mumbled, his eyes dropping to the mat. He didn’t want Her to be disappointed in him, even if she’d never been before. “I just heard it somewhere, I guess.”

“Huh.” She’d shrugged, reaching over Ben’s body to grab one of his fries that he always told Ryan tasted like fucking Styrofoam, but still brought every time she ate lunch with them. “Maybe I’m wrong-“

“No.” Ryan’s head had shaken nervously, because if Ben had taught him anything it was that She was almost never wrong. “I, I must have gotten it mixed up, I don’t know what animal reproduces the most-“ 

“Seahorses.”

Ryan had looked back up to Her, to see her grinning at him. All teeth and a warm affection that made the twisting feeling in Ryan’s gut fade. “Seahorses?” 

She’d nodded, humming an affirmation. “Up to 2,000 babies at a time.” Then She’d twisted around to look at Ben, her face growing just a little brighter than it had been before as Ryan saw their eyes meet. “And the men give birth to them, Benjamin.”

Ben had scowled. “How the fuck is that my problem-“

She’d pouted at him, and Ryan had seen them do this a million times before. She poked him, and he poked back, and neither of them ever really meant it, and it would go and go until one of them—probably Ben, Ryan had seen Her talk circles around their whole weird little family all at once with breaking or faltering—gave in and shut the other up.

“Would you give birth to my seahorse babies, my love?”

“I’m not giving birth to fucking shit-“

“But would you-“

“No.” Ben had grunted, rolling his eyes. “Because men don’t give fucking birth-“

“Seahorse men do. Seahorse men get pregnant, and then give birth. Which is usually how that process goes, but in seahorse societies it’s considered masculine. The men give birth because they love their partners and don’t want them to be in pain-“

Ryan didn’t think that last part was true, but there was usually a point in these arguments where She started to tug at Ben’s shirt with a soft, teasing smile, and said words that didn’t need to be true, because they were almost always her winning blow. This hadn’t been any different, because She’d cut herself off with a small yelp as Ben pulled her further into his lap, leaning down to kiss her.

Ryan had found somewhere else to look for a few minutes. He’d gotten good at that, at reading when he had to pretend that his two trusted adults weren’t maybe seconds from having sex on the floor. They never did, and it didn’t really bother Ryan—they both smiled twice as much when they were done, and Ryan had seen a lot worse than the way they always seemed to be eating each other’s faces—but he still had to wait it out.

When it was preceded by one of their fake arguments, it usually lasted a little longer. The kissing would stop, and they’d just look at each for a minute or two until She turned back to Ryan and Ben’s arms locked around her stomach.

That was Ryan’s favorite part of this. How She’d keep talking to him with a wide, happy expression that Butcher had called Her ditzy fuckin Soldier Boy smile, and Ben would just look at Her.

Ryan really liked how Ben looked at Her. It was an expression of something soft and powerful that he’d only ever seen on Ben’s face, only ever directed at her. It was relaxed and adoring, but still solemn and firm in the only way Ben seemed to know how to be. Like She might be the only thing that Ben knew was real, and he wasn’t bothered by that at all.

It wasn’t like Dad had looked at Stormfront. That had been meaner. Like they were always in a fight—not one of Her and Ben’s play fights, which were more like a cat and a dog swatting at each other before the dog flopped over, and the cat climbed on top of it, but instead a violent, bloody war—and were trying to see who’d snap first. Dad had looked at Stormfront like he was waiting for her to stab him, but wasn’t sure she would.

Ben looked at Her like he’d handed her the knife to carve into his body, and She’d made a face and thrown it away. 

Ryan hadn’t really ever seen Butcher look at Mom, but he hoped it had been a little like that. It was what Mom had deserved, even if Butcher could be a cock fuck bitch with his head tonguing his own ass, in Ben’s words.

But Butcher was getting better. He’d apologized for saying Ryan had hurt Mom—he hadn’t meant to, he never meant to, and he still had nightmares where Mom’s guts were spilling out of her body, and she looked right through Ryan like he was a ghost—and mostly didn’t talk to Ryan about Dad anymore.

Nobody really liked to talk to Ryan about Dad. Ryan knew She would, if he asked, but he didn’t want to ask. He’d never forget what Butcher had shown him—about Mom and Dad and Her—or how, for the first two months Ryan had lived with everyone, She’d been gone because of Dad. Because of Ryan. 

Not your fucking fault, kid. She’d kill me if I let you blame yourself for your pussy fuck dad’s actions.

That was why Ryan talked to Ben about it. He didn’t coddle or lie or sweeten the truth, he just grunted words that—when Ben said them—always seemed to be the inherent truth. Dad wasn’t Ryan’s fault, and Ryan was getting stronger, and it was okay that Ryan got afraid because it he wasn’t a pathetic fucking dickless pussy about it.

Ryan asked Ben if it was okay to hurt people, and Ben told him if they fucking deserve it, but only if they deserve it, and Ryan decided that sounded right. And She said most people didn’t deserve to be hurt, and very few things were truly unforgivable, so Ryan could try to figure out what things were really wrong, and then hurt the people that really deserved it.

Dad deserved it. When Ryan wasn’t afraid of Dad, he was angry at him. 

“Do you get angry?” He’d mumbled over a breakfast in Her and Ben’s apartment, and She’d hummed, tilting her head.

“I do. We all do. Anger is our brains telling us that something is unfair, and a lot of this isn’t really fair. So yeah, I get angry.”

Ryan had nodded slowly, turning to Ben as he approached the table from the kitchen. “Ben, do you-“ 

“Course I fucking get angry.” Ben had dumped three large pancakes onto Ryan’s plate, then two larger ones onto Her’s, then a smaller one onto his own, and ignored Her glare as he dropped into his seat. “This whole goddamn thing-“

She’d cleared her throat, eyes narrowed at Ben. “Benjamin.”

“What-“

She’d given a pointed look to his plate, then back to him. “You need to eat as well.”

���I’ll be fine, Sunshine, you and the kid need more than I do-“

She’d cut one of Her pancakes in half, moving the bigger piece to Ben’s plate, and he’d scowled. They’d both been silent, glaring at each other for almost a minute, and then Ben had grunted. She’d leaned back into her chair with a smug grin, and everything had moved on.

Neither of them had been mad, though. Ryan had thought that glaring and frowning was only about hatred, but when She and Ben glowered at each other it seemed to be more of a standoff. An act or show or contest of affection that neither of them ever seemed to be upset about losing.

They were never really mad at each other at all. Ryan had seen them yell at and taunt and mock each other, but there always seemed to be something under it that sounded like I love you. I’m allowed to call you a dumb dumb or pain in the ass, because I love you and we both know I don’t mean it, because I’m “fighting” with you, but I’m also holding onto you like you’re a buoy in the storm.

Ryan wanted to love someone like that. He wanted someone to love him like that. Because Ben never seemed to really think she was mad at him, even when she called him a cunt or idiot or asshole. Ryan himself didn’t think she was ever really mad at Ben, because he’d watch Her hit Ben’s arm with a fake pout or glare, but she’d never flinch or cower away from him. She was always touching Ben, and she was never afraid of him. Ben had hurt people, Ben was just as dangerous as Ryan was, but She only touched and looked at him like he’d fallen from heaven for her to have. She always kept her hand in Ben’s, or her body in his arms, or their legs pressed together. And she always looked for him. And She always seemed to be happier when she was talking to and looking at Ben, with just his presence never failing to make her smile.

And Ben loved Her. It seemed like love in movies Ryan had watched with Mom, or that he’d read about in books he’d found tucked in corners of Butcher’s apartment. But real. Ryan didn’t think Ben was capable of being really, truly mad at Her, and she seemed to know it. Ben would roll his eyes at Her, and grumble that she was brat, or glare at her in a way that would be dangerous if it wasn’t at Her. Whenever Ben glared at Her it was so painfully fake Ryan wondered if Butcher had been lying when he’d told Ryan not to mention love around those two twats, they ain’t aware that they’re fuckin obsessed with each other yet after She’d returned, because Ben didn’t seem capable looking at Her with anything but love painted over his features.

They certainly knew now. Everyone knew, because every third sentence out of Ben’s mouth was another declaration of love for Her. Every single thing Ben did seemed to be something for Her. Ryan would eat dinner with them, and he’d see Ben pass Her a fistful of stolen chocolate under the table. He’d watch a movie with them, and She’d would be holding Ben’s arms against Her, and Ben would kiss her in the dark and snort at her jokes and get Her and Ryan snacks whenever either of them so much as mentioned the word hungry. He’d train with Ben, and ask a question about punching, and Ben would grumble about how She said you could punch people and be a pacifist, like Muhammad Ali, and she was always fucking right about that shit. And She was a genius. And a better person than every other fucking pussy on the planet, so they should both fucking listen to her. 

Ben carried Her in his arms wherever she let him, and She never stopped smiling at him, and Ryan had decided that if he ever loved someone—far in the future, when Dad was just a faint, reoccurring nightmare—he’d love them like Ben loved Her.

Ryan would never be like Homelander, because he’d never lock up or hurt people he loved. Ryan would be like Ben. And that felt easier, because Ben never demanded that Ryan follow in his steps. He was just there, and trustworthy, and Ryan wanted to be strong like him. He wanted to protect people and do things for them. He wanted to never speak or think of his Dad again, because really their family was Ben and Her, a stained hole that didn’t really matter and Ben wouldn’t let hurt them, and Ryan. It was Butcher forgiving Ryan, because he was trying, and She said the most important thing anyone could do was try to be better. 

He was really trying to be better. Ryan didn’t really trust people, but he trusted Her and Ben when they said that this wasn’t his fault. He believed them when they told him what he knew, that Ryan really didn’t mean to hurt people.

And Ryan hoped that, after Homelander was dead, he’d get to have a life where they kept smiling at each other—and him—and Ryan never was made to hurt someone again.

End Note: Catch Ben in his Dad era, coming to a No Love Lost chapter near you (in all seriousness I hope you guys liked the extra pov! An outside perspective on how down bad they both are was very fun to write)

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[solar4seekstron]

Tf1!Orion Pax/Optimus Prime x Cybertronian!GN!Reader Oneshot: Meet Again

A special thanks to @heavenlykunoichi for requesting this. I had so much fun as always writing for our boy OP. No matter which OP he is lol. I hope you all enjoy and a repost is always appreciated.

Tw/Tags: not much just fluff and op asking you on a date:

You knew Orion as the little dare devil around the mines and city. You were always a part of the same shift and while you two don’t always talk much…..Yeah you both pined for each other for a good while. You thought he was cute and funny can others really blame you? Same thing goes to him. Everytime you aren’t around he immediately starts talking to D about you.

And D always responds with ‘go talk to them then. And let me sleep.’ But Orion never does shut up. And so after that you both continued on as you both always exchange looks and smiles. Both too shy to really try to speak to eachother.

It wasn’t until one day when he randomly disappeared. Only for Sentinel to say he and his best friend died due to their race wounds. You hated yourself ever since.

You never cared for the race and just took the opportunity to go in the city and look for treats for yourself since your friends descided to go the stadium. Even as you dealt with the daily racism and made your way into he store with whatever money you head. You didn’t pay much attention to all the TVs playing the race.

Even by chance missing the part where the announcer says ‘two miners’ every time.

And so after some time you were a lot more down and out of it. Even at times not hearing the surprises like Darkeing making racist and even remarks toawrds your frame as their way of flirting. That didn’t stop them though.

Out of no where Sentnel would order for you all to do more and more shifts even over time. And so that’s all you did. Even ignoring the superiors as kept at it. The only thing keeping you to keep going is the memory of Orion. And so you don’t stop even when Darking tried to convince that he can take you out of work.

When Orion returned, now with a cog. You were still in the mines for one of the shifts in order to help others to continue and go faster.

Orion was pretty saddened. And the pain in his spark was heavy.

During the fight when the secret of Sentinel was realesed. You were one of the bots pushing the carts. You even pushed the carts down in anger as you yelled along side the others. You and the other miners then leave to go to the surface. From there you watched as D fought sentinel. And then Orion..and then…

You saw him die…. You were one of the bots who watched in horror. The pain in your optics as you could only watch. And then as D became Megatron…..Orion came back!!!

You felt joy in your spark as you watched him. He and Megatron then engage into battle. You could only watch until Optimus woukld soon claim victory. Banishing Megatron to the surface. And from there. Energon came back. And you had a cog! But you weren’t really able to greet Optimus as he cheered with the other former miners. So many others kept getting to him first. That the day was already almost over. You all got to stay in hotels and empty houses now that you cant really stay in the sleeping quarters.

And so you stayed in one of the hotels close by the tower where Optimus is staying. Most likely in a meeting with his closest friends. As you stared up at the tower of the window before heading to recharge. The next day you were looking for new work but made sure to stay close to the tower. For any chance to see Optimus.

As you spoke to Ratchet to help with patience. Since you always wanted to work in medican. You would then hear a voice from afar.

”Y/N!” you turned around and saw Optimus. You walked up to you and waved as others watched him and cheered. He defiantly has a crowd. Ratchet lets you know he’ll be expecting you in his office and be apply to have you join.

You thanked him and looked at Optimus. You both stood there only a few inches from each other and stared into each others optics. You both then about to speak first until Optimus apologized and said you first.

”S-so prime huh? And you just had to leave work for over a day?” He chuckled rubbing the back of his neck as he looked down. You sighed and held your cervos together as you looked down as well. He looked back at you. “Optimus I’ve been wanting to ask….um…since you’ve been busy and all…”

”Yeah?’ He said softly as he stared down at you. His optics soft as he did take a step closer to you. You still don’t move. “I-I well I always had a sort of…crush on you..and..”

You’d then feel a cervo on your shoulder. Only to get your attention as it moved to gently hold you chin as you looked up at him.

”I…like you too…I know we didn’t do much ‘cause well I didn’t always know what to say to you…but would you like to…go out sometime? Like lunch or something?” You only stared at him with puppy eyes. Feeling so much joy.

”I..I’d love to Optimus..” He chuckled as he keeps looking at you with admiration. “I’ll comm you then Sweetspark.” He turns, his cervo leaving from holding your chin. Until he stopped and looked back at you. Walking closer to you again.

”Oh and before I forget.” He then leaned down. A cervo behind your back and another on your wrist. Gently being held as before you knew it. His dermas were on yours. As soft kiss and passionate. It didn’t take much time for you to return the kiss.

Closing your optics as he did the same. Both of you stayed like this for a moment longer as others watched and walked by. He eventually pulled away and winked at you. “Until then Sweetspark.”

”Until then….sweetspark.” You’d say as he walked off. You finally did it…..YOU HAVE A DATE WITH HIM. You’re definitely a lucky bot in this city for sure! You couldn’t be any more happy!

This was so fun to write! I enjoyed writing for OP and ugh I love writing his cuteness and how silly he can be. I always enjoy writing for him and I had lots of fun with this Oneshot. I hope you all enjoyed and read my other works. I hope you all have a good rest of your day and continue to enjoy my later works.

[profound-bouquetbird]

Hi yes,i completely understand as to why someone might feel uncomfortable writing a fic abt jimmy in a romantic aspect,which is exactly why i asked for angst. ( I'm a sucker for angst )

I was asking for a scenario where the reader and jimmy had already been in an established relationship with Jimmy wayy prior than boarding on the tulpar, i was wondering that the reader has positive views on jimmy but after finding out what he did to anya the reader completely breaks down and loses every ounce of love/compassion/respect for jimmy. And how curly/swansea and daisuke would try to comfort the reader.

Jimmy tries to convince the reader to give him another chance but the reader rips him a new one,like just jimmy being pathetic and miserable like he deserves to be.

I've been sent requests and messages that everyone can't wait for this fic, now I'm scared I'm going to disappoint 😔

BUT WHO CARES, I'M STILL WRITING IT, RAAAHHHH 🦅💥💥🦅🦅🦅💥💥💥

Edit: I'm done with writing it and right as I was about to post it, I realized that I forgot to put the actual comfort in the fict... Yeahh....

Warnings: mentions/hinting of sexual assault, Daisuke and the reader having a parent/son relationship, mentions of paper cuts, mentions of guns, drug overdose, murder, blood, hurt/no comfort, not proofread

I looked at Jimmy in absolute horror. No tears, no sobbing, nothing left my lips. There was only one feeling remaining though...

Disgust.

He called out my name, and I couldn't stop the shiver of fear that rushed through me.

"Please... Let me explain."

Three days before boarding ᯓ★

"One year?!" I gasped out in disbelief, eyes widening in shock at the news my boyfriend just dropped. One year out in space? Why would he even accept that offer?!

"I know, I know... But we need the money." He breathed out, not looking so pleased with the outcome either.

I sighed, knowing that he was right. I relaxed back onto the couch, crossing my arms in disappointment.

One year without him here with me? No contact at all? I barely survived his last shipment, and that only lasted three months, and now I had to wait a year? they were asking too much. What do they even ship out?

"... I'm sorry." He breathed out, and his expression only made me feel worse.

"You don't have to apologize... It's your job." I sighed, a small smile on my face to reassure him. Sure, it would be a loonnngg year for me, but it was for the money, for our future... for us.

"I'll go start dinner for us... Okay?" He gave me a sad smile, walking over to me and resting a gentle hand on the back of my head, placing a light kiss to my temple as he made his way towards the kitchen.

I smirked, watching him walk off with a playful roll of my eyes.

"And by that I'm guessing you're ordering pizza?" I teased, causing him to let out a quick laugh before disappearing into the kitchen.

With him gone, I was now alone with my thoughts.

I mean- a whole year away from Earth? That's sure to leave some impact on both me and him.

... My saddened expression slowly started to fade as a thought crossed my mind.

What if I applied for the job with him?

A smile grew on my face, but I couldn't tell him now, it should be a surprise! Yes! Imagine his joy when he finds out I get to tag along with him, and for a whole year at that!

Oh, the overjoyed look on his face-

"You want plain peperoni again or do you want to switch it up for tonight?" I jumped a bit; my thoughts being interrupted as Jimmy yelled from the kitchen.

"Uh- Yeah! A peperoni will do!" I yelled back, smiling to myself. Maybe I should apply after dinner.

One week before boarding ᯓ★

I giggled to myself quietly as I watched Jimmy pack his bags. He always liked to pack early, says he has time to check everything and pack anything that's missing.

"Jimmy..." I dragged out his name, trying to contain my excited expression as I watched him.

"Yes, Y/n? I'm busy, I wouldn't want to miss anything." He mumbled out, rummaging through his things. My smile felt slightly, but I decided to shake that uneasy feeling away. He was just stressed.

"I've got some exciting news." I stated, my smile and excitement returning as he peaked at me over his shoulder and gave me a confused glance, "I applied as a Pony express nurse and... I got in!" I almost squeaked out in excitement, but... my excitement died down when he didn't return it.

He stayed in silence for a little while, still looking over his shoulder but not looking at me.

"... Why would you do that?" He asked me, his voice cold as he still didn't look at me. Did I... do something wrong?

"Well... I'm sure that us being apart would make both your journey and my stay would feel way longer than it was supposed to, so... I thought going with you would make both of our stays fly by faster." I stated sheepishly, now unsure of myself. I looked down at my hands, feeling an intense sense of guilt wash over me as the two of us stayed in silence.

I heard him sigh and his clothes ruffle, soft footsteps walking towards me and soon enough his arms were wrapped around me in a warm embrace.

"I'm sorry I reacted like that... I just didn't want you to get hurt." He mumbled into my hair, one of his hands resting on my lower back while the other ran through my hair.

Every ounce of dread faded away with those simple words, hugging him back with a smile on my face.

"... I should've told you earlier, I'm sorry too." I mumbled back. I felt his grip get a bit tighter, which made me feel comforted. He mumbled something underneath his breath that I couldn't comprehend, but I didn't question it.

Two months before the crash ᯓ★

Life on the ship was... Weird. I mean, I knew I was away from Earth, but it felt like we didn't even take off, which I guess is better than floating around.

Everyone on the ship was nice as well. Anya, my coworker was really sweet and really competitive when it came to boardgames, but she's been oddly quiet around my boyfriend, Jimmy... maybe because she found out he was my boyfriend she didn't want to seem like she was going to steal him away from me, which I find very sweet.

Daisuke was interesting. He was a bit nervous for the first few days, but I couldn't really do anything since he didn't really want to talk to anyone. He quickly opened up to us though, and it's always interesting to hear him talk, he does say some weird stuff sometimes though.

Swansea was the same as boarding day, acting very serious and only talking about work, but I sometimes get to hear a little about his past. He has a wife and two kids! How nice.

Curly was a nice captain, I don't see him nor talk to him often, but the times that I did he was nice.

And of course there was my boyfriend, Jimmy. He focuses on his work a lot, which is good don't get me wrong! But I sometimes want him to spend time with me or even visit me in the medical bay...

All of the relationships to the side, work wasn't really that hard. Everyone made sure to take care of themselves, Daisuke got hurt every once in a while, but even he knew not to waste supplies over something as little as a paper cut (I still sneak him my own band-aids every once in a while, though).

---

I smiled to myself as I read through the reports, Anya and I split the 'interrogation' part of the psych test, I was the one to deal with Daisuke since he was the only one to actually drag out the psych test with his little stories. Anya complained to me about it, so I offered to take the test instead of her.

I sat in the room with the young intern, finding myself actually interested in his stories. He somehow managed to find a story with every question that I asked... And when he didn't have an opportunity to rant about a story, he just extended his answer.

He was just done with his rant about how he managed to hit his pinkie toe when he was trying to pass a screwdriver to Swansea, hilarious really.

"Hm..." I hummed a bit, tapping my bottom lip with my pen as I inspected the questions. "... How would you say your relationships with the crewmembers are?" I read off the question, ticking it off the list for myself.

"Awh, absolutely great!" He began excitedly, and just as I thought he was going to leave it at that, he continued.

"Curly is an awesome captain! Sure, I don't see him often, but he's so cool! He always knows how to fix a problem.

Anya is sweet too, but I don't see her as often like I do you. While we're on the topic of you, you've also been pretty awesome, you didn't have to give me your band-aids though.

Swansea is rude, but he can be cool from time to time. I'm still proud that I managed to make him laugh the other day with one of my jokes. But he can tone it down on the yelling sometimes...

Jimmy is also pretty cool! Being a co-pilot must be really hard, and I appreciate that he's in the cockpit most of the time to make sure we don't crash. But he could come out every once in a while... Last time I saw him was a day or two ago when he visited Anya in the medbay though." My smile fell at that small comment, my writing stopping abruptly as I stared down at my notes for a moment.

Jimmy visited Anya. Why wouldn't he come to visit me? I mean- maybe he walked into the medbay to look for me and I wasn't there, even then why would he ask Anya where I was or at least wait for me to come back. So why did he leave the cockpit and not come to visit me first. I'm his damn partner!

Daisuke noticed my silence, his own happy expression turning awkward and on edge.

"Uh... Did I say something wrong?" He asked sheepishly, almost sinking into his seat while clutching the edges of his seat awkwardly.

"Oh... No, Daisuke. Don't worry, I just got lost in thought." I smiled warmly towards him. That small act made him relax. Jimmy is not important currently; I'll talk to him after the psych eval with Daisuke.

I looked back at the paper to see the rest of the questions, only to be surprised that we were done with the last one.

"Looks like we're done here." I sighed, setting down the papers on the small table. Daisuke let out an overexaggerated sigh of relief, slumping in his seat.

"Ugh, finally!" He chuckled, "I thought the questions were never gonna end!"

I chuckled at his antics, standing up from my seat and picking up the papers once more.

"I suggest you get back to work, don't want Swansea worrying now, do we?" I chuckled, opening the door and waiting for him to walk out.

"No! That's even worse! Please continue with the questions!" He whined, getting up and walking out despite his words, although with a bit of a slump.

I walked out right after him, closing the door right after walking out.

"Good luck." I sighed, watching him walk away to where Swansea supposedly was.

"You, too!" He yelled back, smiling brightly, waving goodbye while turning the corner.

I exhaled through my nose, making my way towards the medbay. You know what? I don't have time to argue with him right now about him visiting Anya, he always thinks he's in the right, so the argument won't really lead to anything.

A week before the crash ᯓ★

Anya looked... on edge recently.

She has been jumpier than before... Now that I think about it, I don't remember her being jumpy in the first week.

I did ask her if something was wrong and that she could talk to me if needed, but she just brushed me off and told me that she was fine. People deal with their problems in different ways, and I get that, but... I'm worried about her.

Right now, I was sitting on the kitchen counter, poking at my food a bit as I was lost in thought.

My thoughts were interrupted by footsteps. I turned around only to spot captain Curly. I smiled at the man, turning fully to greet him.

"Morning, captain." I smiled, "Came for some breakfast?" I asked, as if it wasn't already obvious. The man gave me a tired smile and walked to the kitchen, grabbing the already prepared meal like I had. Anya was kind enough to make us a plate each because I slept in and Curly doesn't come out of the cockpit often, same as Jimmy.

"Yup." He tiredly answered my question, sitting down beside me as he began eating. I observed his tired manors for a couple of seconds, giving him a sympathetic look.

"Need a nap, Curly?" I asked him, taking a bite of my own food as I waited for his response.

"Desperately, but it's not like I can." He sighed, the small smile on his face turning into a small frown. I furrowed my brows at his words.

"How so? Jimmy is there to take over when you're too tired, right?" I questioned, setting down my fork. He furrowed his brows, closing his eyes for a moment. He looked like he had been caught in a lie.

"It's not that... simple." He dragged out his words, which only made me even more confused.

"What do you mean?" I cautiously asked, eying him suspiciously. He exhaled through his nose, setting down his fork as well as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"He just... doesn't look like he's in the right place to maneuver the ship properly." He said, trying to end the conversation with that. But I didn't want to back out that easily.

"He's been in that cockpit almost 24/7 since we boarded. I don't understand how he couldn't control the ship properly." I tried to argue, getting a bit agitated. Why would he think my boyfriend was incompetent? He can take responsibility.

"Just... leave it to me, okay?" He sighed, obviously not wanting to argue, and I respect that.

"... Alright, captain. I trust you." I backed out, standing up to wash my dishes.

"Leave the dishes to me." Curly spoke up, standing up himself to wash his own dish, grabbing mine before I could protest. I smiled, mumbling a quick thank you before making my way towards the medbay.

Zero days before the crash ᯓ★

I was patching up another one of Daisuke's paper cuts. He claims that he doesn't know how to use a band-aid correctly, but I think he just wants to rant to me.

"I wonder what I'm missing back on earth..." He sighed after finishing his long rant about some hard level that he barely passed on his Gameboy.

"You'll be so far back on the trends." I chuckled, patting his paper cut to convince him that it was on correctly.

"Don't you worry about me; I'll easily catch up." He tried to flex his muscles for the dramatic effect. I rolled my eyes at that, patting his shoulder and standing up.

"Well, your injury is taken care of, you can head back to work-" I was interrupted by blaring red lights and alarms.

my heart dropped at that, looking around the room as if I was going to find the source. I looked back towards Daisuke to see his panicked expression.

"Stay here, I'll go look to see what's wrong-"

"Are you insane!? Don't go out, please!" Daisuke pleaded, clinging onto my uniform sleeve to make me stay. My heart ached at his desperate please.

But, then again, it could just be a fake alarm... But that also doesn't mean I should leave him alone-

The whole ship started to shake; the alarms started to blare more loudly and so did Daisuke.

He kept repeating "Oh my god!" and "Please, no!"

I clung to him tightly, covering his head as a sort of instinct as I pulled us down onto the floor. The things on the desk we were next to started to fall onto us and I covered Daisuke from everything. Everything moved and trashed around in the medbay and the only thing I could do is cling to him.

What was going on?

Two months after the crash ᯓ★

I sat next to Jimmy, trying to comfort him by resting my head on his shoulder and slowly petting the back of his hand with my thumb. But he was still tense, his expression looking permanently sour.

"... Talk to me, Jimmy. Please..." I tried to get him to open up. I heard him scoff and moments later he shoved me off of him.

"Fuck off, leave me alone." He grumbled, standing up and storming off. I didn't chase after him.

I let out a long exhale, pinching the bridge of my nose and resting my elbows on my knees. I understood why he would be on edge, I mean, one of his closest friends literally drove the ship into an asteroid, who wouldn't be upset?

But he could at least talk to me about it, I'm his partner after all.

"Are you okay?" I heard a soft voice behind me. I turned around to spot Anya. I put up a fake smile to comfort her though.

"I'm okay, Anya, really." I breathed out, straightening up my posture to mimic a confident look, although failing.

She gave me a pitiful look, taking a seat in the armchair next to me.

"... How have you been holding up?" I asked her after a couple of moments of silence. She was quiet for a little while, making me think it wasn't as well as I previously presumed. I mean- the ship crashed, and Curly is basically lacking skin and limbs but... she strong... Gosh, now I sound like a piece of shit when I really think about it.

"Poorly, I can't..." She closed her eyes, resting her head on the back of the couch. It felt like she was keeping something from me.

"... Nevermind." She muttered, standing up to walk away. I opened my mouth to call out to her, for her to tell me what she wanted, but I held back. Maybe it was better if I didn't know.

Four months after the crash ᯓ★

Everything and on the ship felt eerie.

Daisuke was quieter, which absolutely broke my heart. Anya looked weaker, she couldn't even glance towards Curly or his general direction. Swansea was getting absolutely drunk out of his mind on mouthwash. And Jimmy was... distant.

How could Curly even do this? The last time I talked to him he seemed completely fine, why would he change up so suddenly?

I heard a rough voice call out my name, I turned quickly to spot Swansea.

"Yes?" I hummed. The old man grabbed my forearm roughly.

"We need to talk." He stated, dragging me away from everyone in the main area. Jimmy gave the two of us a glare but stayed in his spot.

After the two of us were out of eyesight and earshot, Swansea let go of me. I was quick to massage the spot he grabbed, giving him a glare.

"There was no need to drag me." I grumbled. Swansea ignored my words and began to talk.

"I already talked to Anya about this beforehand, so this is mostly me telling you the plan." He pointed an accusing finger at me. I stayed quiet, waiting for him to begin talking as I massaged the spot he grabbed.

"There is only on cryogen pod left. And Anya and I agreed to give it to Daisuke." He stated. I gave him a look of confusion.

"I thought the room to the cryogen pods was completely blocked off by foam...?" I muttered in confusion. Why would he lie about something like that?

"I said that because Jimmy would've made it a big deal and it would've been a damn free for all in here." I was offended by his words, giving him a look of disbelief as I took a step back.

"Jimmy? Why would he do that?" I grumbled, making sure to keep my voice quiet. I didn't want him to hear, how offended and utterly hurt he would be if he heard Swansea's accusations.

"He- Never mind..." He gave up on an explanation, and I decided to not push it further. "What I'm trying to say is... We're saving the last pod for Daisuke." He said and I didn't protest, giving him a nod of approval and letting out a sigh of relief.

"Alright... but I should really tell Jimmy tha-"

"One word to him about this and you're dead." He grunted, pointing a finger to my chest before storming off.

I lightly massaged the area where he poked me, watching him walk away with a frown and furrowed brows as I composed myself in silence.

Why are they so against telling Jimmy, their now captain, about the cryogen pod? I don't understand...

---

I was panicking.

Daisuke and Jimmy were nowhere to be seen, Swansea also, and Anya had locked herself in the medicalbay.

"Anya, please open the door, talk to me!" I yelled at the door, my voice shaky and my breaths quick as I leaned against the door, staring at it like I was going to pass through it.

She called my name weakly, making me even more anxious than before.

"I'm... I'm so sorry." She sounded like she was crying, which only made my worries worsen.

"Sorry? You- you don't have anything to be sorry for, Anya. Please open the door for me." I laughed awkwardly, like when you're caught sneaking out by your parents and are trying to make up an excuse.

"Jimmy... he..." Her voice was weak, and the mention of my boyfriend's name made me swallow thickly, afraid of what she would say.

"He what, Anya, please... Say something." I whispered, caressing the door, pretending like I was comforting her.

"I didn't want to... He made me." She called out my name, "He forced me- I'm sorry, I really am..."

I was confused.

"Forced you? Anya, please unlock the door and we'll talk, I won't be mad. Whatever you say I'll understand." I tried talking to her, but she became unresponsive. It stayed like that for a little while before I began banging on her door.

"Anya? Anya please respond-" My blood ran cold as I heard an echoing scream come from within, but it wasn't Anya's... No... Please-

Before I could think of anything else, I felt a sharp pain on the back of my head, and everything went black.

One hour until Judgement ᯓ★

My eyes fluttered open, my breathing slow as I tried to remember what happened. I tried moving but I realized I was tied down onto something.

I blinked rapidly to get used to the new lighting, looking around to see where I was. I was in the common area, living room as Daisuke called it.

Speaking of him, where was he? I remember hearing something... He screamed, he got hurt

I squinted as I looked around rapidly, where was everyone?

"Daisuke? Anya? Jimmy? Swansea? Anyone! Can anyone hear me?!" I yelled, my voice raspy and my head throbbing. It was hard to adjust to the red lighting, but once it did, I tried looking for clues.

"Can anyone hear..." My voice trailed off as I spotted someone lying on the ground, it was heard to see who it was. I squinted and tried to focus.

"Daisuke?" I questioned, but the boy didn't budge.

"Daisuke! Don't fuck with me! Are you alright?" I yelled at him, tugging at my restraints. His lack of a response left me frustrated. I groaned, trashing around to try and loosen up the ropes a bit. Who would even tie me up in the first place?

I managed to loosen up the knots, finding them and untying them in the process. Whoever did tie me up sure didn't pay attention in whatever knot tying class they took.

I sat up straight, looking down to see I was tied up on the coffee table. I stretched a bit, finding the silence awful, but I continued.

I walked towards the laying boy cautiously, my eyes adjusting the closer I got and... Oh... Oh god-

"Daisuke..." I breathed out, eyes wide in horror as I stared at the interns split face.

I quickly ran towards him, crouching down as I didn't want to touch him, feeling like my filthy hands would ruin him.

"What... how-" Tears welled up in my eyes as I stared at the lifeless body of the intern. I looked back to where I was tied up, jumping and feeling petrified as I saw Swansea's limp body tied up in a chair, how had I not noticed him before?

I switched my gaze between the young intern and the older mechanic, not sure what to do. Is there even anything I can do? Daisuke's skull is literally split open and, by the looks of it, Swansea has two bullets in his head.

I stood up, legs shaking as I walked back, looking down the hall hesitantly and into the medical bay.

I slapped my hand to my mouth as I saw Anya, lifeless with blood seeping from her mouth from what I could see. Quiet sobs left my lips as I tried not falling to the ground. There was only one person who could've done this...

But... Jimmy would never do such a thing! Yes, he may seem a little cold and distant at times but that doesn't mean he's a murderer! He's my boyfriend, he's... he's supposed to be the good guy...

Who else could have done that though? What else could've done that? I looked back at Daisuke.

His head was open, I stated that multiple times... But with what? A pipe couldn't have done that, and the axe was in Swansea's care... Then that would explain him being tied up in a chair.

The more I thought about it, the more it made sense.

The harsh reaction I had when I told him I got the job, Anya's usual attitude falling when he was around, looking scared and over all staying quiet... Her words. It all made sense

Not only did he go on a killing spree, but he cheated, he forced himself onto Anya, he traumatized her. He didn't kill her, she killed herself because of him, and that was far worse.

The love I previously had for him seemed to just disappear at that moment, being replaced with guilt, anger.

I heard shuffling, my head snapping to see him.

I looked at Jimmy in absolute horror. No tears, no sobbing, nothing left my lips. There was only one feeling remaining though...

Disgust.

He called out my name, and I couldn't stop the shiver of fear that rushed through me.

"Please... Let me explain."

"Explain what?" I questioned, voice barely audible.

He opened his mouth to speak, but he stuttered, not knowing how to even start his sentence. Pathetic.

"I... I had to! Anya fucking killed herself because of a stupid depressive episode she had! Daisuke got injured in the vents while trying to save her, I tried to save him too, but he was badly injured and Swansea fucking killed him! I had to shoot Swansea in self-defense because he wanted to kill both of us. He tied you up and wanted to kill me because he wanted the cryogen pod all to himself! That was his plan all along! He wanted to leave all of us for dead." His excuses only made me hate him more.

Anya killing herself because of an episode? Swansea killing Daisuke because there was no hope? Him shooting Swansea in self-defense? His story had shitty plot holes, and even I could see that with the two minutes I had to look around.

"..." I stayed quiet, just staring at him in disbelief that he could make up such a statement. How many excuses and lies did he tell me while we were dating?

"... Baby, please-"

"Don't call me that." I hissed, cutting him off mid-sentence, I didn't want to hear any more excuses, any more pleas, nothing. "I'm done." He stared at me in confusion, but I could see his usual irritation growing.

"Done with what?" He hissed back, voice lower, brows knitting together in irritation.

"I'm done with you." I grumbled. I watched him as his grip on the gun got tighter. "I'm done with dealing with your temper tantrums, I'm done with being patient, I'm done with listening to your every order, and I'm done with your cheating."

"Cheating? What are you talking about-"

"I don't want to listen to your annoying voice anymore, Jimmy. I have tried time and time again to ignore your flaws, I tried to see the best in you, but I can't anymore." My heart was beating in my ears. From fear? From anger? I couldn't tell. "All this time while I was on the Tulpar- No, while I've been dating you, you have shown that you don't care about me, and I don't even know why I decided to stay with you for this long."

I could hear his angered breathing even from this far away, which made my fears worsen, but at this point I'd rather be shot than survive.

"Shoot me. I'd rather be dead than carry the burden that I chose to be with you." I mumbled, my voice quieter now as I gave him a challenging look.

The two of us were consumed by silence once more, the sparks of faulty wiring and his intense breathing giving me a sense of anticipation.

I watched him as he raised the gun, a look that I could only describe as disappointment resting on his face.

"You don't understand." He grumbled, the gun aimed at my head. I only glared at him, daring him to pull the trigger. "And I know you never will."

With that, I watched him pull the trigger the last thing I heard was a loud bang before my body hit the floor.

[monst]

Hopefully there's some Bridgerton fans here:

You know how each season has that one confession scene. I know people would hc Jason as saying Anthony's "Your the bane of my existence and the object of all my desires" but I firmly believe he'd be on that farmer George shit.

"I love you! From the mo- from the moment I saw you try to go over the wall. I have loved you desperately. I cannot breathe when you are not near, I love you, (your name lol). My heart calls your name..."

[moeblob]

Deacon loves two things: Ymber and digging himself a grave.

Fulj hates one thing: Deacon.

[autisticlee]

sometimes people who struggle like to make jokes or find positives about their condition that causes them to struggle so they can escape the constant negative and struggle. sometimes autistic people will say things like "the 'tism" or use the "autism creature" or say their autism helped them have a *positive trait* to feel better about their struggles. because living your life only focusing on the struggles and negatives is depressing and makes it hard to want to live, even if those struggle take up 100% of your life and you can't actually escape them. sometimes any little seemingly positive thing can help a lot.

but there's so many other autistic people that hate when we do that and call it "reducing autism to a cute trendy thing" and say it takes away from *their* struggles and is bad and shouldn't be used. maybe *you* want to only focus on your struggles, but some people can't live in constant negative and need some positive or to find ways to make their condition more positive so they can feel better about living with their struggles. life is hard. I take anything I can get.

I cant get jobs. I can't make and keep friends. I can't get help and support for doing "normal" things so sometimes I go weeks without being able to shower and without eating more than a bowl of cereal a day. most times can't even do things I like. struggle to communicate. have meltdowns. i'll never be able to live independently. I struggle a lot. but instead of sitting here always depressed and having no motivation to live, i'd rather try to joke about "my 'tism is acting up again" when i'm struggling (just an example. don't think I ever actually used the 'tism thing but i saw others use it) or say "i'm just being a creature" when I need to stay in my dark room because everything is too much and I personally find it cute to be a little creature meant in a positive way. i'm not actually downplaying mine or anyone else's struggles. I still acknowledge them and that silly jokes dont make them go away. i'm not trying to be trendy. i'm not doing any of the things people say we do by making silly little jokes. i'm using the silly little jokes to convince myself life can be a little more than pointless, painful garbage all the time.

(continue in tags)

[fairy-ganj-mother]

managing your parents emotions is so exhausting

[bluestjayy]

Maybe I'm just cursed 🤪

[catkin-morgs-kookaburralover]

the sensible part of my brain is like maybe I should fess up to my doctor at the appointment tomorrow and the part of my brain that got me into this mess in the first place is like no absolutely cannot do that until it's got bad enough it should have got stitches again (but unless I hit a vein I am not going to get stitches)

[luminousnotmatter]

This Close

a little j.h.s. something

pairing: My favorite Texan Naval aviator, Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Female...Reader? OC? She’s kind of both? I’ll explain more in the Author’s Note. 😜 warnings: Mutual pining. Yearny. Friends with feelings they’re not acknowledging. PG-level swears. Takes place in a bar that’s not The Hard Deck. There’s a Dean Martin song used.😜  word count: a little over 1k. author’s note: This is my first bit of writing shared in a good long while, and also my first bit of writing for Top Gun Maverick since that movie happened to me this year. Be gentle please I’m nervous???? 😨😱 This story is actually part of a moment I have in mind for a whole, longer, multi-parted story that’s currently simmering on the stovetop of my brain until I can figure it out more/work up the nerve to plot it out and start writing and sharing it involving Jake and a Lady OC who I’m also still developing. Hence she, ‘Birdy’ a nickname she’s referred to as once here ☺, is sort of straddling the Reader/OC line at the moment. I honestly prefer writing this way than in the second person; it’s easier for me and I find I like the way things flow and feel better, so hopefully y’all don’t mind it. Okay. I’ve officially rambled w a y too much so I’m shutting my cakehole now. 🤐 I sincerely hope it pleases you! 💕❤ bonus material: This is the song that’s playing in the bar in case you want to listen in on Jake and Birdy’s dance.  It’s not a love song really, but I love it and find there is a certain sweet, romance to it. But then again, I’m a known Sap, so form your own opinion. 😉 tagging: My Sweet B.💗 ‘cause she’s a dear, inspiring, and encouraging gem of a lady, whom I love. @bradshawsbaby​

"The sun is sinking in the west the cattle go down to the stream the redwing settles in her nest it's time for a cowboy to dream..."

With the first few lines of the song and Dean Martin's signature croon, the energy and volume in the crowded bar immediately shifts, lowering from it's previous loud, buzzing intensity to a quieter, pleasant hum. A few of the dancing couples rearrange themselves into new pairs, but most stay with their current partners.

  Jake's green eyes glow warm. His lips are still upturned in a gentler, one-sided version of his familiar wide and sunshiney smile, as his gaze sweeps around the space casually, before meeting hers.

"Shall we?" he quirks an eyebrow up. Speaks only loudly enough for her to hear. His left hand remains loosely entwined with her right, leftover from the previous, faster dance, but he's inviting her to join him for this one, not assuming she wants to. A gentleman's gesture.

And some might argue against it: but she knows, believes, has seen, that Jacob Seresin is a gentleman, in the truest sense of the word. He just....buries that part of himself, walls it up, far too often.

She tightens her grip on his hand. Let's herself notice, secretly relish, the roughness of his calloused fingers and palm. And the skipping jolt it sends to her heart. "Let's." and a smiling nod is her only response.

“Purple lights in the canyons That's where I long to be With my three good companions Just my rifle, my pony, and me...”

They step in close to one another once more, less than a foot of space between them. It's not really different than what they had been doing a minute or so ago, albiet slower, but the feeling, the energy between them has changed, just as it has for the place as a whole.

  It's not necessarily an unpleasant change.

Jake's right hand holds her waist with a sort of tentative firmness, the heat of his palm bleeds through the material of her dress to her skin. His left hand has raised her right while they sway and take small steps in time with the music.

At first she looks everywhere but at her partner's face. Gaze sweeping around the room at the other couples, the lights above the bar, patrons' abandoned drinks....

She's exposed, raw, hyper-aware of the pounding of her heart against her ribs, of how hot her cheeks are, of the inherent intimacy there is in this slow closeness, and somehow it seems that if she looks in Jake's eyes it will be a tacit acknowledgement of the Truth she's currently refusing to actively acknowledge: that she likes this. Likes him. This man is her friend (becoming one of her favorite, best ones), so of course she likes him, and she is comfortable with him, as a woman and as his friend, but that Truth? What it actually means deep down? It's a damn frightening thing to look at head-on.

All these sensations and thoughts scramble through her heart and brain in milliseconds.

“Gonna hang my sombrero, On the limb of a tree Comin' home, sweetheart darlin' Just my rifle, my pony, and me...”

The sound of the Naval Lieutenant humming the tune of the song near her ear draws her eyes back to him, almost against her will, but not actually. He's looking around too at first, but quickly meets her eyeline with a gentle widening of his smile.

  "You know this song?" she asks with a smile of her own; she knows this tune well but wouldn't have guessed he did. It brings an ache of fondness to her chest that he does.

"Mm-hm." he nods and grins fully with his mouth closed. His nose scrunches up once, barely perceptible but she catches it. The skin around his eyes crinkles and her chest is hurting again.

  She drops her gaze for just a moment, trying to think of something to say. The silence isn't uncomfortable, it's just that she likes the sound of his voice. Likes the way he talks to her. But when her eyes catch the sheen of sweat on his skin over the hollow of his throat, they fly back up. Immediately.

  Jake is still looking at her. His look is so very unguarded (her heart whispers the word: tender) it sends any thought of words out of her mind. His pink mouth is still smiling, but it too is a smaller, softer, a more intentional, meaningful thing.

“Whippoorwill in the willow Sings a sweet melody Ridin' to Amarillo Just my rifle, my pony, and me...”

He breathes out the quietest, whispered, "Hey, Birdy."

Her throat is tight with some unexpressed, still-ignored emotion but she's able to whisper back, "Hey, Jay."

Jake gives her hand two squeezes in quick succession.

“No more cows to be ropin’ No more strays will I see Round the bend, she'll be waitin' For my rifle, my pony, and me My rifle, my pony, and me...”

Someone in the crowd calls for the song to please be played again, just once more. Their request is granted.

She swallows hard. Jake's lashes are long and his eyes are so green and the unguarded, tender look in them is still there. He is no longer smiling, just looking; his expression still soft, open.  He's not only looking at her but seeing her. The rosy, ruddy glow to his cheeks and the firmness of him beneath her hand that cups his back, all shout of the health, vitality, alive-ness of him.

It's a fight to think of other things besides her desire to lean all the way into his chest.

I wanna give up that fight.  For right now: I can give up. I give up. she thinks to herself. With a finality and resolve to which she grasps tightly.

Before anxiety and self-doubt and outright fear can question and crumble that resolve she does it.

She takes the half-step in, tucking her left hand between their two bodies up by her face and rests her cheek to his t-shirt covered chest, right below his left clavicle. She allows any tension to bleed from her shoulders, her neck, her arms, and lets him hold her.

Just for the rest of the song, she tells herself.

As he curls his right arm all the way round her back, Jake holds his next inhale at its peak for a quick extra second or two, then lets it out evenly, once she relaxes fully against him. She can't see his face of course, but he feels like even his blinking is slow, and careful. She's never been quite this close to him before now.  And he's never....he's not sure he has ever allowed himself to consider that he's wanted her to be...but his deep-down self is realizing: he has. Damn.

He shakes that realization and its implications off for the moment. It doesn't have to be dealt with right now.

  Just enjoy the rest of the song, Seresin, he tells himself. Rests his cheek gently against her head. Holds her.

They sway and take small steps, to and fro, to and fro, until the song does...eventually...unfortunately....end.

[amatres]

gonna be honest, while she is a wonderfully played character, i do not like karna as a person at all lol. usually i love morally grey characters but i think im too attached to amangeaux to appreciate karna's character. like the scene where amangeaux had to beg karna on her knees just to be able to flee for her life with her child made my skin crawl and was probably the final nail in the coffin for me

and that on top of karna without remorse offering up amangeaux's child's life, which she didn't even have conformation was the heir to vegetania, and then her speech of getting 'drops of recognition' from amangeaux for 'her own protection and happiness' i had no sympathy for her after everything she did. it felt like she was getting mad at a woman she was trying to take advantage of who decided to prioritize herself and her year old child, who karna just agreed to kill

like yes, theres the political standing difference between them, but by that time amangeaux had no political safety and was discarded by her allies, and only a few hours ago in the game's universe was it proven by their own actions how even with supposed political advantage means nothing anything anyway and just

her careless 'im damned to rot so i have no care what suffering i put people through to get to my goal' just rubs me the wrong way along with everything else

this is no hate towards aabria, she's playing the character wonderfully and every move she makes makes sense for the character she has made, it's just karna makes me so inherently uncomfortable

[stevebabey]

another one! 📽 📽

imagine it’s summer and it’s hot and the sun is so toasty on your skin and steve feels restless and spontaneous so he suggests you go on a drive so you pack some driving snacks and hit the road. it somehow ends with you and steve at lovers lake (or a less traumatic lake for him poor lad lol) and y’all go for a dip, in your underwear or maybe, ya know, a lil skinny dipping shenanigans are in your future 😉 *in the summertime by mungo jerry plays*

okay ily ruby have fun and again congrats girl!!! xoxo

mmmmm we all deserve summertime steve for fuckin real obsessed with the vibes you have created in the studio today maddie ur brain so delicio 🌊 yet again, i cannot shut up for the life of me <3 i want to go swchimming w him so bad fr he’s such a summer bf

it’ll have been one of those sweltering nights where even the sheets feel too much and come morning, not one ounce of you wants to stay in bed and cuddle like you normally do because it’s stinkin’ hot and you’re fairly certain steve is already sweating lightly just pressed next to you— you tell him as much when he tries to sleepily cuddle you in closer, giving him a pout and a “s’too warm, stevie :(“ and steve can’t even disagree, he’s burning up in the heat of the sun through your windows - but there’s also a glimpse of blue blue sky stretching out endlessly, which means opportunity !

so he flops back, relents the space and stares at the ceiling while u stare at him, just observing him lovingly, counting every mole <3 he takes a minute of quiet contemplation, during which your back manages to get completely heated, pressed against the mattress, and you’re bout to complain bout it again when he blows a raspberry and turns his head to face you. “d’ya wanna go for a drive? :) nd maybe a swim?” and god, if that doesn’t sound like heaven- you’re nodding along before you even open your mouth but also, u gotta check in with him “you sure ya wanna swim, stevie?” and his eyes search your face for a moment, thinking about it properly, before he nods, a grateful smile pulling at his lips, “yeah, honey, we’ll drive outta hawkins to find a good spot- sound okay?”

overtop your swimsuit, you pick a nice pair of daisy-dukes that definitely catch steve’s eye for an extra second and you grin, having to shoo him into getting ready— and you meet him down in his car, rolling the windows down to combat the sun that’s letting out blistering hot heatwaves, making u long for a popsicle or anything icy really. steve’s out a couple minutes later, two towels over his shoulders and a— you sit up a bit straighter, spotting the picnic basket in his hands!!! he calls forward as he opens the trunk to put stuff in, “i thought we could have some snacks! make a lil picnic date of it!” and you chest bursts with warmth and love for him and you literally can’t say anything except, “you’re sorta incredible, steve harrington” and it’s just the thing to say to get that flushed colour on his cheeks that has nothing to do with the heat and all to do with what you do to him.

driving along, you desperately wish you had a camera if only to capture the image of steve beside you, windows down, the breeze ruffling his hair and the collar of his shirt which is unbuttoned dangerously low. you can see the thatch of chest hair against his tan chest, his collarbones that are honestly begging for a lovebite or maybe ten, those classic cool glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. you’re fairly certain you could look at him like this for hours- and he seems to return the sentiment fully, spending the drive torn between glancing at you in the passenger seat — one hand curled over your thigh, fingers drumming, and a happy grin on his face — and his eyes on the open road that takes you out of hawkins. the warm wind whips in through the windows and blankets you both in the glow of summer :)

steve ends up finding a nice swimming hole, 20 minutes out of hawkins, that’s part of one big river winding through the countryside. it’s busy, people swarming around the water like ants to honey, but that’s to be expected in the the heat of summer. you nd steve both instinctively steer clear of the crowd, wandering further up stream to see if you can find a sweet lil bay for just the two of you— and you manage to find another sweet lil spot that’s empty besides from you two and steve declares himself king of the beach, planting the picnic basket like a flag.

the heat is infinitely worse out of the car, without any wind to cool you off, and the trickling sounds of the river might be your greatest temptation, besides your boyfriend who’s wasted no time in tugging his shirt up and over his head. the sight of him in just those small swimming shorts, tan hairy thighs on display, might just rival the river for your attention. the water in the river moves about sluggishly, swirling around itself in a syrupy motion, and you know it’s about to be the best cool off of your life- you follow steve’s motions and shed off your shorts and shirt in record speed

steve’s already waiting for you in the shallows, water sloshing around his ankles noisily, and looking back at you he can’t resist the urge to let a little whistle when you drop your shorts — it earns him an endeared eye-roll that only makes his grin a little wider, his hand planting on his hips, “just enjoying the view, don’t mind me” so you take that as your cue to take off, feet splashing in the shallow water and you’re diving in without a moments hesitation— it’s freezing and the sensation of it zings every nerve til you’re unable to do anything but grin and curse when you come up because fuck, it’s cold. it’s fantastically cold.

steve’s still waiting in the shallows, that familiar smitten expression on his face as he watches you gasp at the temperature change and push back your soaked hair from your face, spin to look for him and grin wider when he comes into view. you paddle back in his direction, shaking off the droplets that collect at your chin. your feet find the bottom of the riverbed and you stand, against the push of the river, and hold out your hands for him, trying to coax him in to join you in the deeper parts of the river. because you know, it’s always a bit hard after everything, entering water again — you can still see the twisted up skin that stretches up his sides, faded with time, but a memory etched into his skin all the same.

steve takes a step out towards you, then another, then pauses and his eyes scour the water all around you— his expression already falling away to concern. you can sense his mothering sense rising up and try to quell it before he can voice any anxieties, “eyes on me, stevie” you say, with a wry grin and make grabby hands at him, encouraging him more- you can see the quick inhale he does before he pushes forward, eyes focused on you, your loving grin, your inviting hands, and he doesn’t stop til he can grab them with his own. you’re pushing off the riverbed instantly, legs up and around his waist and shifting so your hands circle around his neck, sweet murmurs about how you’re proud of him til steve is warm enough in the face that he simply has to dunk to both of you, his mischievous grin giving you warning just a second too late

you’re gasping, coughing just a bit when he pulls you both back up and you smack him in the chest— “you bastard! you- i can’t believe you—“ and when he sinks his knees a little deeper, you change your tone quick, clambering closer to him, “don’t you dare, steve, i swear, if you want remain in a loving relationship you will—” “gimme a kiss,” he interrupts and your head snaps from watching the cool water swirl around you to his face and he’s grinning, completely serious, his hands on your waist pulling you closer til he’s nosing along the damp plane of your neck, mumbling into it “kiss or get dunked. that’s the deal, sweetheart,” and then he presses a hot kiss under your jaw and pulls back to wait for you to make a decision. you sigh real heavy like it’s a chore, hanging your head back as you pretend to think about it with a loud “hmmmm” til you’re about sure he’s gonna dunk you again. your thighs tighten and you pull yourself up with your grip around his neck and give him exactly what he asked for :) then u guys eat ur picnic and it’s the perfect lil summertime date :) this is too long my god

[cynical-crypt]

proshitter fucking weirdo,,,, liking kids isnt cool!!

buddy. buddy. do you know how to read?

^^ do you see that? i know this is gonna be difficult for you to fathom but *THAT* little bit there means don't fucking talk to me. i don't need or want you and your puritan dipshit friends on my page bugging me all the time like you have been. judging by the general lack of intelligence behind your message i'm gonna assume you're some kid that was brainwashed by tiktok and/or twitter and you need to chill the fuck out. go find a hobby that doesn't thrive solely off of annoying everyone else with hatemail. normally i wouldn't respond to these but i found it hilarious how sad it was and also clearing out my inbox constantly is annoying

[ballsballsbowls]

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