#it might be hurt-comfort tho | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

stevebabey · 1 year

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ok brain whipped up this concept & would NOT leave it alone today so here. have this. this is like ‘started making it. had a breakdown. bon appétit’ in a steddie post for me but alas <3 cw: talks of past sexual coercion

Eddie is mad at Steve.

Which, honestly, might be the worst thing in the entire damn world for all Steve cares. The whole world feels just a little bit off kilter when Eddie’s mad at Steve — because Eddie just loooves the silent treatment.

He’ll usually make a show of it. Pout and stick out his bottom lip, cross his arms, maybe even give a stamp on his big booted feet. Doesn’t say what’s wrong, just glares sulkily. It’s a bit childish, they both know, but Eddie likes to be doted and Steve loves to do the doting — and it hasn’t caused any proper fights yet.

This time, however, he can tell Eddie is more mad than usual, because this time he hadn’t thrown the usual fuss. Instead, he’d just gone quiet. All glowers and glares. Not even a pout, and certainly not a peep.

And it’s just the worst because the version of Eddie that Steve knows best is a chatterbox. Can’t shut up, won’t shut up. Steve normally loves it.

And alright— maybe Steve deserved it for not picking him up after one of Eddie’s gigs. Especially because Eddie had specifically asked him too as well, considering his own van was in the shop.

But it’s not like Steve could control when his parents decided to waltz back into Hawkins!

They always seemed to run on their own timetable, or on what seemed like an entirely different orbit. Yet, they had no trouble roping Steve back into their routine, stuffing him back into a place, without any regard to his opinion on the matter. Which was exactly what they had done that evening.

But that didn’t really matter, Steve thinks with a sigh, because he knows it’s not really just because he didn’t pick Eddie up. It was because of what Steve said.

Gareth’s mom had swung by and while Eddie had gotten an eyeful of that suspicious look that followed him everywhere since the events of the Upside Down, Eddie had gotten home safely. Majorly annoyed but safe which was what mattered most.

He had then released his said-annoyance onto Steve.

But see, Steve was already tired from the prodding and lecturing of his parents. They’d been awfully disappointed to find he had yet to move on from his job at Family Video and worse, had badmouthed his choice of friends. Had brought up Tommy and the likes, asked pointedly why Steve hadn’t been seen with them in a few months.

Steve had bit his tongue to not spew out the fact he hadn’t been seen with Tommy for years and that was unlikely to change any time soon.

So, yeah, he was wound up. And Eddie was too. A bit too impatient, a bit too cut that he’d been on the receiving end of yet another scathing interaction because Steve had been so careless to forget to pick him up.

He’d said as much, jabbing a finger and dramatically reenacting the tense conversation he’d had to have with Gareth’s mother.

It had led to a spat, which led to an argument. Steve sat on the bed in Eddie’s trailer and toyed with a loose thread as Eddie pacing before him.

“You should’ve been there.”

“I know.” Steve ground out the words, eyes on the floor, feeling too much like he was still back home, still being lectured by his father about his good-for-nothing son. The thread was coming looser in his fingers with all his fiddling.

“You know? Is that all you’re gonna say?” Eddie asked, exasperated, but the moment Steve’s lip part to respond, Eddie had steamrolled on. Gareth’s awkward smile and his mother’s tight bunched up shoulders were still fresh in his memory.

“Great! That’s just fantastic, Steve. You knew and you still didn’t show up!”

Steve’s head shot up, brow furrowed. “That’s not what I meant.”

Like a kettle coming to boil, Steve could feel some bitchy comment lurch up his throat with his growing frustration. It was easy to think of things to say to hurt Eddie, to lash out, to make it so Eddie was the one with his head bowed, voice quiet.

Steve had learned that the hard part in these moments, is biting his tongue. Swallowing back mean comments. He doesn’t want to be vicious. Loathes the idea of falling back on snarky comments to win a fight, least of all with his boyfriend.

But... old habits die hard.

So, when Eddie had got all up in his face, firing himself up, and said, “Oh, pray tell then Steve what was so important that made you fucking forget your boyfriend.”

Steve had snapped.

“Fuck, do you ever stop? You are so much sometimes!”

The words had flown out in a harsh sneer and they hit their mark exactly as intended.

Because Steve knew all about that strange bubble of fear that lives inside Eddie— the part that didn’t care at all what strangers thought of him, but cared so much about those he came to trust. The part that worried that being big and brash all the time would be too much for people. That the reason they originally liked Eddie, would become the same reason they’d eventually dislike him for.

Steve had once told him he couldn’t ever get enough of him— let alone too much. It’s why he’d known where to strike.

Eddie’s expression has flinched, his eyes going from simmering to hurt in a few seconds flat. His fists unclenched at his side and Steve had felt the regret curdling up in his gut, a terrible sour feeling that had him shooting to his feet in an instant.

“Eddie, wait, I—”

“Leave.” Eddie said, voice dangerously low. There wasn’t room to push it. Nothing left to argue.

But still, Steve had wavered, swaying as a tidal wave of shame burned hot up his neck. He wanted to fix it. He needed to fix this.

But Eddie couldn’t look at him, eyes fixed on the ground and despite how much it had pained Steve to go, he knew he couldn’t fix it, not then and there. The door had hit him on the way out.

That had been two whole days ago. The guilt of it makes it feel like it was hours ago, still fresh as ever.

Steve had been diligent in giving Eddie his space to cool off.

The call Steve made the morning after never got picked up, just rang endlessly until the voicemail kicked in. Even though Eddie was always home Wednesdays. It told Steve well enough that Eddie was still well and truly mad.

Which was fair enough. Steve had been an asshole. Let himself fall back on old habits and stab a weak spot he only knew because Eddie trusted him, then twisted the knife as well.

But it’s like he said — silent treatment from the guy who usually can’t keep quiet is discerning to say the least. It itches uncomfortably at Steve who finds himself unusually eager to apologise.

Because, damn, if Steve doesn’t hate apologising.

Apologising means pulling out the stops, means admitting shamefully everything you’d done wrong, means having to prove how sorry you were.

It had been like that living under his father. When he was seven, Tommy had accidentally pitched a baseball through one of the windows. It had smashed right through, completely shattered. Steve had taken the fall.

He’d said sorry, head bowed, even though it had been an accident. And after he’d made Steve repeat his apology til it was a rigid phrase in his mouth, Richard Harrington had said; ‘Well, why don’t you prove how sorry you are, Steven?’

He’d ended up being his father’s personal beer boy for that week. Fetching them ice-cold from the garage at his father’s every call, from the moment he was home from school, to prove the apology was legitimate.

It had worked— after a week of doting, extra effort into keeping his room clean and to keep his father happy, Richard had permitted his son a rare smile and ruffle of his hair. ‘See? I know you were sorry now.’

Steve had learnt quickly in his childhood to go to lengths to avoid trouble with his father. To avoid the tumultuous apologies he’d have to perform, jumping through hoop after hoop for forgiveness.

But even then, Steve couldn’t escape them with friends, and especially not with girlfriends.

Tilly had been like that too. She’d been Steve’s freshman girlfriend, eyeshadow baby blue and lips always glossy. When Steve did things she didn’t like —spent Saturdays with his other friends, was late to dates— she’d pout her glittery lips and bat her eyes. ‘Aren’t you gonna make it up to me?’

Steve had — had pulled out the stops, emptied his pocket change to buy her flowers, went to second base because she really wanted him to, all to prove his apology. Until Tilly was back to her sugary smiles and fluttering hazel eyes.

It had even been like that with Nancy, though not quite to that extent. Forking out his savings to buy the nicest bouquet he could find, prepared to make it up to her, even if he wasn’t quite sure if it was him who was supposed to be apologising. But she’d gone silent treatment on him, so…

So, Steve hates apologising— but even more than that, is how much he hates Eddie’s quiet. So, when his boyfriend calls the Family Video on Friday midday, when he knows Steve’s soloing, and invites him over, Steve prepares himself for the grovelling to come.

The mixtape he’d already made sits in the gearbox of his car, carried around with him since he finished it. Upon hanging up the phone, Steve’s eyes catch on the florist across the street. His mind spins with all his knowledge of Eddie’s favourites — should he get those sour candies Eddie loved so much as well?Would it be too much?

Steve scoffs at the irony of his worries, considering what he was apologising for. Besides, it was never too much. There were never enough things to show he was sorry.

And Eddie couldn’t exactly be bought — not that was what this was. But Steve knew his boyfriend preferred all things in the manner of touch. That Steve’s affection was a far higher currency than anything bought with money.

That’s fine. Steve can do that.

He’s got a whole speech planned, honest. The smudged bullet points scrawled on his palm are testament to that, there to keep him on track and Steve checks them over religiously as he drives over after his shift.

It all goes out the window when Eddie opens the door, because Steve’s heart hiccups, splutters, soars forward in his chest.

Eddie looks just the same, his usual ripped jeans and dark shirt with a band Steve doesn’t know and yet— yet.

Steve is overcome by how much he missed Eddie.

Overcome at how those two days felt like two weeks to him. His mouth opens and the words burst out, “I’m sorry.”

part two.

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snipersfucker · 11 months

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request from @infintyfandoms: Thought! Mirage is always so reckless, well what if one time he went too far and hurt his friend or s/o (either)?? I feel like he’d blame himself so bad - even if he was blind sighted by a distracted driver. Never drive crazy again or not drive around again or what??

angsty mirage x fem!reader times. thought of making it a headcanon thingy but nah. this one might need a warning that there are descriptions of serious injuries. and im also writing this on 0 hours of sleep thank you very much

A silver Porsche parked in front of the vinyl store you just walked out of was catching the attention of every passerby. Both men and women's eyes were stopping on the vehicle for a bit longer than they would on any regular car, their heads turning slightly to allow them to do that.

Mirage loved that. He loved transforming in different models everyday, the next one even more prestigious than the one before. Just to get that attention every single time.

You noticed a couple of teenage girls staring at your boyfriend, and even though you were fully aware they were doing so only because he was a good-looking car, you still rolled your eyes at it.

Your feet led you to the Porsche and you hopped in. Before getting the chance to point out the shameless staring of the group of teens, Mirage spoke up, "Whatcha got there?"

Your gaze had shifted to the vinyl case before you placed it down on the passenger's seat without much thought.

"Music," you responded casually in a light tone, putting your hands on the steering wheel, even though you knew Mirage would be doing the driving. "You got fans," you murmured under your breath but Mirage could obviously hear it. Your eyes landed on the girls again, and although you weren't particularly jealous, you still didn't appreciate it too much.

"Hell yeah, I do, baby," he said proudly, the grin in his voice palpable, even though you couldn't see it at the moment. And then, he added, a little bit more quietly as if he was saying this to the man who literally stopped in front of the car to admire him, "You wish you looked like that, huh?"

You let out an amused snort, and patted the gear stick with your palm to give him a sign to drive out of the parking lot. "C'mon."

"Let me honk at him," he'd asked for your permission seconds before doing it anyway without you allowing him to, causing the man to jump in his spot and then walk away. You just smacked the passenger's seat in disapproval, not even going on a rant about his behaviour because it was a daily occurrence for Mirage to do whatever he wanted.

"Hey!" he exclaimed, offended by your sudden reaction, as if he wasn't used to it, "I'm all for violence unless it's directed towards me," he muttered, sounding like an annoyed child. Then, without any warning, he revved the engine and drove out of the parking lot onto the main road. You only rolled your eyes without a word but then, you noticed how fast he was passing all the other cars in his lane, which he would usually cuss out for being slow, as if their owners weren't driving under the speed limit for safety reasons.

"Mirage…" you warned him, using his full name instead of a nickname, which he did not appreciate but decided not to speak on it and just change the topic.

"Jus' tell me it's not George Michael," he said with a short sigh, as if it was very important to him that it, in fact, was not George Michael.

"Mirage..." you warned him once again, ignoring his words, gripping the steering wheel with much more force now to hopefully get him to slow down.

"Nope," he said simply, understanding what you meant without you even having to say it. If he was in his humanoid form, he'd probably cross his arms on his chest and shake his head with that signature smirk indicating that he knew he was in control of the situation. "That's what you get for hitting your poor boy," he added, sounding very content with himself, revving the engine once more just to show you that he, in fact, was not planning on slowing down.

You scoffed. "You deserved it."

"For what?" he began talking in that specific, overly innocent tone, and you just knew he was going to say something sarcastic that would only annoy you even more, "For being so cute and funny?" He asked rhetorically, as if he wasn't aware that he really needn't have honked at that man, and then drive as recklessly as he normally would when you weren't inside him.

But he was very much aware. It was just that his pride didn't allow him to apologise.

"For being a little shit." You decided not to banter with him as per usual, but just to get straight to the point. Even though you were possibly risking starting an argument between you two, you just needed to reprimend him at the moment, especially now that you noticed how nonchalant he was about it.

"Ouch," he pretended to be hurt by what you just said. And although he wasn't actually offended, he still wasn't really in the mood to let you win.

So he sped up even more.

Noticing the opportunity presented right in front of him, the almost empty road ahead of you two, he floored the gas pedal, making you let out a short, quiet noise at the impact in which you got pushed back into the seat.

"What the fuck are you doing?" you asked him with anger in your voice, not raising it just yet, and not actually expecting a response. But you got one anyway:

"Takin' you on a ride date, baby," he answered sarcastically, his overly sweet tone making him sound even more annoying than before.

"Mirage, I—"

If he wasn't as sure in his abilities as he was, he'd never drive over three times faster than the speed limit allowed, never wanting to actually risk you getting hurt in any way.

And it wasn't even his fault, when a sport's car drove right into his left side, before you could even finish your sentence.

It wasn't his fault that the car ran a red light, that it was supposed to stop and wait for him to just drive away without getting thrown to the right by the impact.

It wasn't his fault that he was now rolling over for the fifth time, his roof and sides hitting the hard asphalt every single time.

You weren't even making any noises anymore so that he would know that you were with him, conscious, alive. He ignored the sound of his glass shattering, his metal body getting scratched, bent and painfully ruined, just to be able to hear your breath.

The other car was in a much worse condition, but he didn't care. The only thing occupying his mind was you, your heartbeat he would do anything to hear again. He needed to make sure you were still there.

He felt it all. He felt the pain that came with getting drove into by another car, with flipping over with unimaginable speed and force. But he needed to make sure you were alright.

And he couldn't even do anything to stop his worst nightmare from beginning to play right in front of his very optics.

Then, after a few moments that felt like hours to him, everything finally came to an end. The hiss coming out of him was still hearable, the hot steam, the liquid pouring out of his fual lines threatened to mix with the flames growing with every passing second. But it was finally quiet; no noise of metal hitting the asphalt distracted him from listening to your body.

His spark nearly exploded with relief when he heard the faint sound of your heartbeat. He wanted to transform, to be able to hold you, to get you out of him so that his bent roof wouldn't be pressing against your wounded head.

When people began to gather up around him, he realised he had a decision to make: to transform and risk getting hunted down just like it happened to Bumblebee, or to stay there and pray to Primus, pray to the people now surrounding him that they'd help you and make sure you were okay.

He wanted to scream at them to hurry up, to get you out, to make that heartbeat of yours sound more promising. To let him know that you weren't going to—

The idea of losing you forever crossed his mind for a split second before he could even stop it.

And it was his fault that he was going a lot over the speed limit, too distracted by the need to tease you, to win the argument, and show you that you had nothing to say in the way he was behaving.

It was his fault that there was crimson running down your forehead, the drops rolling past the hairs of your eyebrows, all the way down to your jaw, then staining your shirt with your own blood.

It was his fault that your body felt lifeless against his ruined upholstery, the only motion it was making was an almost undetectable rise of your chest every couple of seconds.

His train of thoughts got interrupted by the distant sound of sirens getting closer and closer to him. The people were talking, someone was yelling, it all making an irritating mixture of human noises he didn't need to hear at the moment.

Mirage felt his left door being opened or rather being torn out of him in a couple painful motions. He didn't care.

He just wanted them to take you away from him.

When he no longer felt your weight on his driver's seat, he almost let a sound of relief through his radio, but just now noticed that it's been ruined, making it impossible for him to do so. He hadn't paid attention to it earlier, too stunned to be able to say anything to you, even though your name and endless questions if you were okay wanted to escape him.

Cold liquid hit his hot metal body, the lower temperature of it somewhat helping him get in a clearer state of mind. Even though he felt deserving of being on fire, he appreciated the slight relief it gave him.

Somebody placed you on a stretcher, put you carefully in another vehicle, and then closed the door. He couldn't see you anymore but was sure the humans would take good care of you. Better care than he was able to offer.

The loud sirens hit his audio receptors before he registered the ambulance leaving the crash site.

And the sound was still bouncing against the interior walls of his helm every single day since the accident. The imagine of your limp body, his steering wheel covered in your blood, your head pressed uncomfortably against the remains of his left window...

Two whole weeks passed and he couldn't think of anything else but you. You in that horrible state he put you in himself.

The guilt was eating him alive, and even though he'd make Noah visit you everyday in the hospital to make sure your condiction was stable, he still couldn't help but beat himself up and be worried sick.

"Concussion, five broken ribs, broken arm and nose, and she was fucking bleeding from her liver, man," your mutual friend told him after leaving the hospital for the first time, after the doctors allowed anybody to visit you, even though you weren't conscious yet.

It affected Noah nearly as much as it did the robot. The only difference was that the human had no reason to blame himself for it, because it wasn't his recklessness that nearly killed you.

Mirage fell silent.

He got quiet, very quiet, unusually for him. Every Autobot he used to hang out with knew what happened, how much you meant to him, and how affected he was by the accident. They noticed the sudden shift in his behaviour, the once bubbly personality disappearing just so he could dwell in guilt in peace.

The thing that bothered him a lot among others was that he couldn't see you. He couldn't walk into the hospital you were being taken care of in. He couldn't sit next to you and tell you how painfully sorry he was for doing it to you, for putting you in danger, for hurting you so much your pain radiated off you body and made him feel it, too.

Noah insisted on repairing him, and he agreed purely because then he'd be able to park in front of the hospital to be as near you as possible.

But he was a wreck, both physically and emotionally.

And it still didn't change when you finally got discharged. He was not the one to pick you up from the hospital, it was Noah and Bee. He couldn't face you.

You asked about him when you woke up from the coma, your friend sitting next to you on the uncomfortable hospital chair only shrugging in response, telling you he didn't know anything about Mirage, where he was or how he was.

It was a lie. The robot was spending his time either in the garage, getting fixed by his only human friend, or out on the road, hoping that maybe, just maybe someone would crash into him again, making him feel that pain again. That pain he thought he deserved for harming you.

And when you insisted on Noah taking you to the garage to see him, after getting the information about his location out of the poor human, Mirage couldn't help but feel even worse than before.

You were alive, of course you were alive, but he also did notice the way you winced with every step, how dull the colour of your skin was compared to the times before the accident, how fragile you looked, standing there in front of him with Noah not leaving your side in case you'd collapse onto the floor.

You were alive, but also in so much pain he couldn't even look at you without feeling a strong sting in his spark.

His optics shifted to Noah in an instant, as if he was trying to bash him for taking you here, which he responded to out loud with his hands raised in a defensive gesture, "She threatened me."

You didn't even know what you were feeling at that moment. A mixture of sadness, annoyance, impatience, and hurt made you unable to say anything, forcing you to just stand there in silence. Suddenly, a short wave of pain washed over your right side, making you grimace and put your only free palm on the area surrounding your liver.

As soon as Mirage noticed your movement, he made an involuntary step towards you, his servos extended in your direction, as if he was trying to both comfort you and catch you if you were to fall.

Noah immediately asked, "You okay?" His eyes shifting between your hand on your side and your pained face. You just nodded.

Uncomfortable silence fell between the three of you, and the other human was close to replacing it with whistling just so that he wouldn't have to stand there awkwardly without a word.

"Imma just leave you two, yeah?" He scratched the back of his neck, his feet already leading him in the direction of the exit. "Jus'... scream if you die or somethin'..." he added, the awkwardness making him joke about things he normally wouldn't joke about.

And then, he left. He left poor Mirage with even poorer you. Alone.

You let out a grunt, making your way to the nearest chair to sit down. He was ready to help you with everything, but he didn't know if you even wanted him to, so he just stayed in his spot.

"You look bad," you commented, lazily motioning to his beaten-up body with your hand. The raspiness, the weakness in your voice almost made him drop to his knees.

He responded unsurely after a pause, a forced, unamused smirk on his face plate, "...You should see the other guy."

It was awkward. Awkward as never before, you two having always found it pretty easy to communicate with each other. But now... Now he couldn't help but feel that unpleasant feeling in his tank when you spoke up and made him say something back to you.

And it was his fault.

Your reaction to his little joke wasn't something you could control. A short, quiet chuckle left your mouth, causing you to grab your right side even more tightly and a wince of pain on your face to deepen.

She can't even laugh.

He felt so excruciatingly bad he had to fight himself not to transform into a car and just drive away.

You wanted to tell him that you've been told the other driver didn't make it. But you knew the war it would start in his mind if you shared that information with him, so you stayed silent.

"You look terrible," he muttered after a few moments of observing your body, as if to himself to comment on the damage he'd done.

You snorted, shaking your head in amusement. "That's exactly what every woman likes to hear," you responded, deciding that a little banter would be better than sitting without any words being exchanged.

Mirage's eyes widened slightly as he took a step towards you, his servos up in the air again in a specific gesture that indicated that he didn't actually mean it like that.

He had this tendency to make things worse with his words, and normally it wouldn't bother him at all, but this time it was you. He didn't want to make thing worse with you.

"No, no, you're pretty. Gorgeous, in my humble opinion. Walking perfection even," he wanted to correct himself, spurting word after word just to show you that he didn't want you to be mad at him. "Geez, I'm sorry," he added, bringing his servos to his face plate to cover it in... embarrassment.

Something new for him.

You shook your head, looking up at him with a small smile. "I do look kinda ter—"

Before you could finish your sentence, he said with much more confidence now, "...For everything."

He rarely apologised.

But you deserved to hear it. Even if you weren't ready to forgive him just yet, even if you were to never forgive him, he just needed you to know that he regretted it.

You frowned, opening your mouth to say something, but he interrupted you again, "Maybe I shouldn't have be the fastest car in Brooklyn that day. Maybe I should've listened to you and not be a little shit," he recalled the way you called him these few weeks ago, just minutes before the accident. With determination in his tone, he continued, "You can hate me, I can take it." But then, he changed his mind as soon as he realised he would prefer if you didn't hate him, "Actually. Hate me for the next three days at max. Please. If you don't want me to rip my vents out."

You snorted weakly once more, the movement of your body making you wince in pain again.

He finally found enough courage within himself to get closer to you. With a couple of steps, he kneeled down in front of you and extended one of his servos in your direction, as if non-verbally telling you to stop laughing and not cause yourself even more pain.

"'m sorry," he whispered his apology again, the sincere look in his optics showing you just how much he cared for you.

"It wasn't y—"

"It was," he interrupted you in a much more serious tone, but it was still filled with softness, "I was stupid..."

"Nothing new," you managed to blurt out before closing your eyes shut and grunting, a grimace on your face as you felt another sting of pain, which you were kind of used to now.

You opened your eyes and looked up at his worried optics observing your every move, his servos desperately wanting to touch and help you but he knew it'd only make things worse due to his size.

You let out a short chuckle at your own joke as soon as your body allowed you to.

"Not funny," he reprimanded you with a serious face, not finding your apparent discomfort amusing at all, even though he agreed with your words.

"You were just making jokes ab—"

"So?"

You rolled your eyes at him. "Child," you insulted him, fully aware how much he hated being called out on his childishness.

"I'm older than your cute little Earth, please," he scoffed.

"No, you're not," you deadpanned.

"...So?"

"I hate you," you said, although a small smile on your lips betrayed you.

"That's the spirit," he sighed but the corners of his lips curled up as well. A beat of silence passed and his gaze went back to your face, "I meant that."

You frowned slightly.

"I am sorry. For being the..." he was about to say something that would hurt his pride and ego, but decided it was worth it, "...the dumbest machine there is. Even a hairdryer is smarter than me," he insulted himself, hoping the sacrifice would make you like him again.

"You're right." You nodded, fighting back a chuckle.

He raised his arms in a playfully offended, confused gesture. "You could at least disagree, damn."

You shook your head in amusement.

After another beat of silence, he said seriously, "You're never coming inside me again."

"Wow."

"Should've worded it better, yeah..." he trailed off, "Primus, woman, give me a break." He let out a small laugh when he noticed your amused reaction to his sentence. "No, seriously... I... You're my girl, yeah? Don't want you to... You know, be in pain."

Why did he have to be so awkward about his feelings? Now that he finally had the chance to show you how much he loved you and never wanted to see you hurt again.

"I still have your..." he wanted to say that he still had your blood on some of his parts that didn't want to come off, but then decided it wasn't the best time to tell you that, "I almost lost my mind when I couldn't hear you," he confessed, his tone regaining its sincerity, the look in his optics describing his guilt to you without words.

He was referring to the moment he was so desperately trying to silence everything around him just to be able to find your heartbeat.

"I'm okay..." Your tone was soft, quiet, as if you were trying not to scare a lost, disoriented puppy.

"You're not okay," he disagreed with a slightly clenched jaw, angry at himself, not even for a second at you, "You..." He lowered himself so that he'd be able to whisper to you, as if saying these words more loudly would make them come true someday, "You almost died... I almost killed you..."

His face panel was close enough to your body for you to put your hand against his warm, metal cheek. Mirage immediately melted at the touch, his optics closing slowly just to allow him to savour the softness of your palm as much as he could.

"It wasn't your fault..." you started your monologue, this time the robot allowing you to continue, "I didn't die. I might have a broken bone or two..." He opened his eyes at this sentence, giving you a sad look. "...But I'll be alright. I didn't die," you repeated, which gained you an unsure nod from your boyfriend, who was now avoiding making eye contact with you.

You didn't force him to look up at you.

"I promise..." he trailed off, not wanting to show you how weak he felt, "I promise I'll never do that again..." His gaze went back to meet yours as you smiled softly, your eyes filled with love you had for him. "I'll never be dumber than a hairdryer, you have my unreliable word. And I'll never argue with you. I'll just say that I'm sorry, and that my woman is always right, and I'll shut up for as long as you want me to. And I... I'll never drive over twenty-five. Yeah, it hurts. But guess what hurts more. Seeing you with a broken bone or two."

Joking might've been the only way he would be able to overcome the sorrow he felt within himself. But it worked both for you and him. You really wouldn't have it any other way.

"Tell me," you whispered with a slight head tilt, slowly closing the gap between your faces.

He frowned, not understanding what you meant by that, but then the small smirk on your lips explained it to him.

He rolled his optics, the remains of guilt still evident in them, although with every passing second and every joke, they seemed to disappear bit by bit.

"'m sorry. My woman is always right," he repeated himself, pretending to find it very boring, as if he didn't really want to admit that. But he did. He did want you to know that he meant every single thing that rolled off his glossa.

Your smile widened immediately, your eyes closing as you minimized the gap between your and Mirage's lips completely.

And then, after long weeks of not being able to forgive himself for hurting the only woman he loved, he was finally able to feel relief.

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emisnt2 · 1 year

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i'm so unwell after reading this chapter, anyways all of you should read "Area Hysteria" by @c-c-cherry

#gahh this brothers has ruined my life #they're cheering each other up :'(((#but seriously tho this is such a good read #it's very hurt and angsty #but man the comfort moment hit really hard (really balanced the heavy angst)#mp100 #ritsu kageyama #shigeo kageyama #area hysteria #“i might have made mob too short rkrkfk im sorry”

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writinggremlin · 3 days

Note

How about Call of Duty: Held at sword/gunpoint for the Cafe Pals? (Those three sound super fun BTW, haha!)

-- @whumperofworlds

Those three are definitely super fun!! Especially Mars; he's a little gremlin sometimes. He loves to tease Jacky and Sunni, and you'll figure out the reason why by the end of this story lmao.

I don't usually whump these three -- I usually just use them for cute and funny bits in the background -- but that just makes the moments where I do whump them hit even better. So, here we go.

Call of Duty: Held at sword/gunpoint, for the Cafe Pals (Jacky, Sunni, and Mars)

The prompt is from this ask game here! Enjoy!

Cw (under cut): Gun, Robbery, Brief Manhandling, Blood

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Held at Gunpoint (Near Miss)

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

It was a normal day for Jacky, who was humming along to a song that was quietly playing over the speakers. A sigh escaped her as she finished wiping down the counter, and she took a step back. Pushing up her glasses by the bridge, she looked up at the seating area.

There were only a few other people here at the time, and Sunni had just gotten back into the kitchen after handing an older gentleman his usual order. It never really got busy here -- this place had never really gotten popular -- but she couldn't help the feeling of pride that warmed her heart. This was her place; her child, even, and she loved it as such.

She also felt a bit of pride towards Sunni and Mars too, though especially so for Sunni. They had known each other for years now; she was the first person Jacky hired on. It couldn't of have been an easy choice for her to make (even though she was the one who made the offer to help), and Jacky never fully understood why this beautiful dork of a blonde stuck around, especially when she clearly had an interest and amazing potential in pursuing other careers like fashion and design, but she was forever grateful for her help and support nonetheless.

Besides, there was something special about her presence that made it really fun and easy to hang out with her. She was an amazing friend. Sweet, kind, supportive, compassionate...

The jingle of bells rung through the air as the door opened, pulling Jacky back out of her thoughts.

"Hello! Welcome t--"

The words were choked short in her throat as she was met with the barrel of a pistol. Slowly and cautiously, she raised her trembling hands.

"Open the register."

Her eyes flicked up to the masked figure. They were wearing all black, and fixed her with a stern stare.

Everything had suddenly gone deathly silent, save for her quickening breath and the song that didn't seem to match the mood anymore.

She nodded her head towards a jar on the counter, "There's the tip jar if you--"

"Now!"

Two pairs of footsteps came running out from the back; both abruptly coming to a halt somewhere out of Jacky's line of sight.

"What the hell is going o--"

"Shit--"

Shit.

Jacky glanced towards their direction, "Mars, Sunni," She spoke carefully and clearly, "Stay back. Keep your hands up. No sudden movements." She's dealt with a theif or two in the past, but this was the first time any of them had been held at gunpoint. She looked back to the person in front of her, daring a glare, "Don't hurt them."

"Do as I say, and nobody gets hurt." They shot a warning glare to the other two.

Swallowing back the bile creeping up her throat, she gave the slightest of a nod, "Ok. Deal. I'm going to open--"

"You're seriously going to just let them take everything without a fight?! I bet that's not even a real g--"

"MARS!!" Jacky and Sunni both sho--

BANG

Jacky flinched when the gun moved to aim towards the others. A couple patrons screamed, the sounds nearly drowned out by the noise.

Holy shit-- Holy shit-- Please be ok-- Please let them be--

"Fucking-- Mars!! Are you ok?!"

"Y-yeah... I-- I'm--... It didn't-- I wasn't, hit."

Jacky let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. Though that relief was short lived, as the gun was aimed right back at her once more.

"Take that as your only warning." Their cold glare was more than enough proof for Jacky to understand that they meant it, "Register. NOW!"

"Ok! Alright! Sorry!" Jacky carefully, yet quickly moved to press the buttons needed to unlock the register. The drawer popped open with a ding, and she flinched as the gun moved again. This time it lowered down to the counter, as the criminal hoisted themself over. She stepped back, attempting to stay out of their way.

"Here, just take it all and lea--" Apparently she wasn't out of of the way enough for them, as they grabbed her shoulder and shoved her to the side.

She fell from the force, unable to catch herself before her head smacked face first into the tiled floor below.

Jacky lifted herself slightly, immediately noticing the stark contrast of red against white; glistening blood dripping down onto the glossy surface beneath her. Turning her head, she looked back at at the person, who was quickly shoveling everything into a bag. A low groan escaped from her throat as she screwed her eyes shut and lowered her head back down.

As soon as the criminal made their exit, the place seemed to come back to life once more.

Sunni was kneeling next to Jacky in an instant, "Holy shit-- Holy shit-- Jacky!! Are you ok?! Shit your nose is bleeding-- here!"

Jacky looked up to find a handful of tissues getting shoved into her face. Smiling, she took them with a quiet, "Thank you." She held them up against her nose as she pinched it shut and tilted her head forward. "Are you ok?" She asked, placing a hand on the other's knee.

"Are you ok?" She retorted.

Jacky couldn't help but to chuckle over the insistent concern, "I'm ok. I'm fine." She winced as she pushed herself off the floor to sit up, "Ah! Ow-- My nose hurts though. I think I might've-- ah-- ...I might've broken it."

Glancing up, she noticed that a couple patrons had come over to check on them, "I'm fine, guys. Sorry about all of that. But if it's alright, can you all stick around for a bit? Just until the police get here so that you can--"

"Oh shit-- we should-- I'm gonna call the cops." Jacky looked over at Mars, who had pulled out his phone and was already dialing 911.

"Ok. Good. Alright..."

"Hello? Yeah, we just had a robbery over at..." The conversation quickly became muffled as he stepped into the back.

Jacky's attention snapped back to Sunni as she suddenly pulled her into a tight hug. Jacky stiffened, then quickly returned the embrace, allowing some of the tension in her body to melt away as she hid down into her shoulder.

After taking a few moments to soak in the comfort, Jacky lifted her head, frowning slightly, "Ah shit, I'm getting your sleeve all bloody." She felt a hand on the back of her head, gently guiding it back down to her friend's shoulder.

"Shush. It's literally just a shirt you fucking goof. I'm just glad you're ok."

She glanced up at Sunni, "You and Mars are ok too, right?"

Sunni nodded, "Yes, we're fine." Jacky felt her hands start to clutch at the back of her shirt, "Though I swear to god, Mars--"

"Shhhh, it's fine, we'll deal with him later. I'm just glad you guys are ok." She nuzzled down into the crook of her friend's neck.

She sighed, shoulders dropping, "I'm glad you're ok too." Jacky heard a small sniffle by her ear, "I just--... I don't know what I'd do if you-- if they--..." She didn't-- couldn't-- finish that sentence, instead drawing in a quivering breath, and hiding away into her shoulder.

Jacky started rubbing circles on her back, hugging her tighter, "It's ok, I'm ok. I'm here. We're here. We're ok. I'm not going anywhere." The reassurances continued for a few minutes, before Sunni lifted her head again with a snotty sounding sniff.

"Hey Jacky...? Can I tell you something?"

She lifted her head just enough to be able to look up at her, "Hm? Yeah, what is it?"

There was a long moment of silence...

Hesitation...

Anticipation...

Uncertainty...

"...Nevermind. Sorry."

Jacky's brow furrowed, but she decided not to pry, "Hm. Alright then."

A few more moments passed, before Sunni suddenly jolted a little bit, "Oh! Your glasses fell off when he pushed you, by the way! Here!"

Jacky laughed a little, "Oh, thanks! I didn't even notice that!"

Sunni smiled, soft and warm, "Of course! Here, let me get these back on for you real quick..."

Jacky didn't protest as Sunni carefully slid the glasses back into place. A stray piece of hair escaped Jacky's ponytail and fell into her face, and Sunni carefully tucked it back away behind her ear. Her hand lingered there for a moment, before she just shook her head and pulled her back in again.

As Sunni shoved her face into the crook of her neck, Jacky heard her whisper something under her breath. It was too quiet to know for sure, but she could've sworn that she heard three small words...

"I love you."

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daz4i · 4 months

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how and why is there discourse about whether or not certain queer identities exist/if people should be allowed(???) to use them. why is "people know their own identity better than you ever could, and they're the only one who get a say on what they are" such a tough concept to grasp

i think if you find yourself offended by the label someone uses (especially if they're a stranger) or think it invalidates your own, it's a good idea to look inside yourself and question why that may be. more often than not, it's a result of insecurity or uncertainty of your own identity (or many other things, but i won't make a whole list here). whatever reason it is, until you resolve it, you shouldn't take it out on people for having an identity you don't understand

many have said it before but it's worth saying over and over. infighting only helps our oppressors. conservatives don't care if you're a cis gay or a xenogender aegosexual aplatonic lesbian, they hate all of us either way. trying to fit in by going for people who are easier targets for them isn't gonna help you, it'll just alienate you from your own community, and you're never gonna please them. the momentary rush you get from hearing you're not like "one of /those/ gay people" is not worth it and is gonna do more harm in the long run, i assure you

also, it is important to me to say this, but having some less than nice kneejerk reaction caused by confusion about an identity you don't understand doesn't mean you're a bad person or anything. as long as you aren't mean to that person, and you take a second to think smth along the lines of "wait a minute, this isn't any of my business" after having said reaction, you're good 👍 a lot of reflexive reactions we have to things are ingrained into us simply by. well. living in a society 🤡 and you're not terrible for having those thoughts. it's your actions that matter, and your second thought (the "wait, why did i just think that?") is more defining of your actual character and morals than your reflex. i know that having thoughts like this, even tho they're unwanted, can very easily make one spiral, so it's important to me that whoever needs to hear this knows this doesn't make you a bad person 🙏 you're good, keep taking actions to be good, accept other people even if you don't understand them, and you're on the right track :)

#i considered adding that last part in the tags but i figured it'll be too long for that 😭#i noticed i'm posting a lot of rants lately. sorry. but i do wanna make sure no one's actually feeling bad over them #if i complain about something that you do or call it mean and such. that doesn't make you a bad person #you can always work to change and grow 👍 it's not easy but it starts with smaller steps than you'd expect #and now i just switched to a whole other topic from my original point. oops #i do firmly believe that any discourse about someone's identity is dumb as fuck #seeing it in poll blogs always makes me 😐😬 like how is it any business for any of us. why is this up for debate #if a person says they're queer then they are. they don't need to pass some test or go through initiation to be accepted #if they feel comfortable with a certain word that's awesome. why does it matter to *you* which word they use #'they're only using this microlabel to feel special' so? is there anything wrong with that?#'this label contradicts [insert other identity that falls under the same umbrella]' ok. but does that hurt anyone in any way #a lot of identities can even be self contradictory. does it matter tho? does it affect anyone in any way?#'they might realize that label is wrong later' again. what's the harm in that.#i don't blame anyone for these thoughts bc like. this is how cishets view a lot of the even more common labels #so you're basically taught to think this way from day one. that doesn't mean you need to stick to that thought process #you might have these reflexes forever no matter how hard you try. but you'll get quicker about moving on from them #but you do have to try. you do have to realize that other people's identities aren't about you #anyway. this post feels like batting at a hornets nest. really hope i don't get some bad faith readers here lol #(i noticed a lot of places one could apply bad faith but like it's 3:30 am i'm too tired to add this many disclaimer.#so i'm gonna trust you to not jump to conclusions and to approach this in good faith okay? mwah 🖤)#also my whole ramble abt morality (in the tags too) is relevant to. any topic really #i may just make a separate post about it really. .....tomorrow tho.

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ritz-writes · 1 year

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Spotlight Macaque sings his feelings feelings away.

One day (not sure when in the story it is) he's feeling like shit, remembering his old life. Specifically remembering his relationship with Wukong. So, he goes to the theater at like one in the morning cuz he can't sleep. He goes up onto stage and just stands there for awhile, staring at the empty seats. Eventually, he plugs his phone in and starts to play the instrumental of Kindergarten Boyfriend.

He feels embarrassed when he does stuff like this, but it helps him get his feelings out. His friends say its not healthy for him to keep stuff like that in, after all. But he doesn't want to explain the situation to anyone, doesn't want to say any of it out loud, so instead he sings alone.

Except he's not alone. He's not the only cast member that goes to the theater in the middle of the night. Two others, B and E (you two will have names at some point i promise) were there trying to get a move down that E was having trouble with. They left for awhile to take a break and get some drinks, and when they came back it was too the sound of Macaque beginning to sing.

When Macaque sings alone, especially in a place where he feels safe, everything else melts away. Normally, he'd be able to hear them walking, hear the two girl stop just before exiting backstage, hear their heartbeats. But all he focused on was getting his feelings out.

B and E immediately knew he was singing about his ex. They could tell the song hit close to home for Macaque, based on his body language and the way his voice strained every now and again.

"Certain boys are just for kindergarten. Certain girl are meant to be alone."

Macaque's voice cracks here. He has to take a deep breath and steel his nerves, actually skipping the 'but I believe that any dream worth having' line in order to get his composure back.

Just when he's singing the last notes, E's shoe squeaks, finally alerting Macaque to the fact that he's not alone. E panics, explaining that they didn't mean to eavesdrop, but they didn't want to interrupt. Macaque's eyes are wet when he turns around and tries to come up with some excuse, tries to leave so he can die of embarrassment back at home, but B just walks over and pulls him into a hug.

"If he hurts you again, I'll kick his ass," is all she says.

Macaque tries not to cry, he really does, but then E joined in and, well...

It's been a good few years since he had a shoulder to cry on.

#RIP DIDNT MEAN TO WRITE ANGST AGAIN SORRYYY #its hurt/comfort tho so #b and e will have named eventually lmao #i have ideas mainly for b #just gotta find the focus to work on her #all i know is that b is a girl #e might be?? but also might be a boy or enby #i havent decided yet #spotlight au #lmk #lego monkie kid #lmk macaque #lmk spotlight au

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stantrash171819 · 2 years

Text

Reassurance —> Vernon

vernon x gn reader (like no specific pronouns altho i wrote it in a female perspective???)

childhood friends au, non-idol au, hint of university au

genre/warnings: insecurity, reader tries to shy away from problem instead of addressing it but Vernon is convincing :3, mentions of a food place

note: vernon has been on my mind lately and i stumbled upon some prompts in pinterest lol. put two and two together and this happened. this is so cliche and generic but i hope you like it :3

Vernon was attractive.

That’s a well-known fact that has been confirmed multiple times since you two were little. There was always someone crushing over him, fawning over his looks and admiring him from afar. Some are even bold enough to actually make a move on him.

And there were times when they succeeded. Of course, it’s inevitable for Vernon to start dating.

It was intolerable for you. You didn’t have the guts to confess, so you had to watch him be with these people he’s dating.

Except now, he's yours. Years and years of pining over your best friend, and now he’s your boyfriend. Sounds like a dream come true, doesn’t it?

Problem is, you never really got used to those lingering eyes on him. Whenever you two eat in the cafeteria at lunch, you can see girls unsubtly staring and squealing at him from the other table. In your favourite burger place near your dorms, this one cashier would be staring at him with eyes that resembled those heart-shaped things in cartoons.

It’s not like Vernon gave you a reason to be insecure. When you two started dating, he made sure to decline all of the advances made by other people. He isn’t big on PDA, but he proudly holds your hand whenever you walk together. (And it makes you all soft inside cos his palm is so warm against yours-)

Yes, you know Vernon is attractive. But sometimes it just gets to you. Like now.

This one girl keeps on chatting Vernon up. From the time she spotted him until now, she has NOT left you two. She’s been sharing some funny stories with him, occasionally patting his shoulder and touching his arm. Best of all, she’s not acknowledged you at all. She isn’t doing anything that’s drawing the line, but something tells you that she will once you’re out of the perimeter.

You trust Vernon will turn her down just like all the other times this has happened. Sure enough, when he starts to notice your fidgeting, he bids her goodbye and walks you to a different area.

“You ok? You look off.”

You shake your head, crossing your arms to your front. “Just thinking.”

“Yeah?” Vernon sits on a bench and pats the spot beside him. You leave a hand-width space between you two, making him frown. “Care to share?”

You sigh and look ahead, “It’s…just that you’re so attractive.”

“Huh? That’s what you’re spacing out about?”

“No!”

His eyes narrow, eyebrows furrowing in disbelief.

You sigh, “Nevermind it’s stupid. Didn’t we see an arcade on the way here? Let’s go check that out.”

“Hey hey hey,” he takes your hand and tugs lightly when you try to stand up. “C’mere, let’s talk about this.” He pulls you back down and holds your hand in his, finegrs intertwining.

“I just,” you start to say, “it kind of bothers me how girls still hit on you.”

“...Oh.”

“Yeah ‘oh’.”

You two are silent for a while. Then it clicks with Vernon.

“It’s because of the girl earlier, isn’t it?”, he asks.

When he sees you nod, his thumb traces circles on your hand, a silent way of encouraging you to continue. You feel tears prickling in your eyes, so you close them and lay your head on Vernon's shoulder.

“It just seems like there’s always someone ogling you and chatting you up and trying to make a move on you. I know it’s not your fault cos how can I blame my boyfriend for being so cool and funny and handsome and cute.”

Vernon grins at that but you don't see it.

“But it’s frustrating that it keeps on happening even when they know you aren’t single. And it makes me feel like they can just steal you from me or something-”

"No no." You shoot your head up in shock and confusion.

You don't get to process him interrupting you before he leans in and touches your lips with his.

When he pulls away, he holds your cheek in his palm. “I’ve known you since we were kids, Y/N. I’m not going anywhere. Plus I’m pretty sure no one else is able to handle my dumbassery for as long as you have.”

The statement makes you giggle, and Vernon smiles back. “I love what we have,” he moves a strand of hair away from your face, “which means no one’s gonna take me from you. I’m right where I wanna be. Alright?”

You nod. “I still kinda wanna go to that arcade though.”

“Sure. Tokens on me if you win the claw.”

“Deal.”

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hyah-lian · 3 months

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I have been in program prep hell, and anxiety alley, and today is program day and I'm like Hm Yes. Perfect time to start rewatching that 8+ hour series on the history of antibiotics

#me @ me y r u like this #(answer: bc ive watched it before and medical information is a comfort topic for me)#(learning abt how humans learned how to help other humans and animals survive- and then learning how to do it /better/)#(learning from past mistakes and learning to help more than hurt and yeh. its just so cool)#(also constant tiny little battles of little guys who just want you to survive and live!! you are their whole world and they will help you!#(too cool)#tho i also need to put it down and like. figure out my insulin situation. i am. fully in debt rn.#and my insurance might have blipped so idk if i can even get it

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candlebel · 2 months

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I cared. I still do. I still think of you and I still cry over you. You were importat to me. You still are.

#I was interested. I wanted to get to know you.#I did not want validation. I only said it because you said it... I don't know why. I was susceptible.#I was blindly accepting certain things that you said about me. Judgement that you had for me.#I was under severe stress from my job at the time; while at the same time dealing with unresolved emotional trauma and very low self worth.#I was burnt out. Crushed... Completely.#I didn't want attention. I did not want you to cure my depression. I though I was just letting you know me. I wasn't aware I was oversharin #I tried... SO HARD to get over the things that triggered me and hurt me but I just couldn't...#I wanted to. I did everything in my might; I took it to therapy; I looked everywhere within me; to either get over it #or completely forget about you and stop caring at all; so things were ok and normal again; but it didn't go away...#to this day...#I just feel so... unsafe... at the idea of talking again #I know I wasn't the best listener and I profoundly regret that.#I was not only thinking about myself like you said and I was aware of the effort that other's put; but I was afraid/resistant to PRECISELY #that cause of past events with other people. Because in some I was the one putting that effort and ended badly for me. Looking back #that was inappropiate of you because you felt too comfortable generalizing my past relationships and why in your head they failed.#“I cant help but feel you are looking down on people who” Stay away from me if you ever make a stretch like this again.#By “experiment” I meant that you don't know how a relatioship with somebody is gonna turn out until you go and try. That's all I meant.#I didn't want things to turn out this way. I'm sorry they did.#The effort I put for you may have been shit to you. But to me it was a lot. And I'm done taking judgement.#Altho I love my friends I still keep distance. I still can't completely help that. I can go months not talking to my BF.#You were my BF during my teenage years. I remembered you fondly. I still do.#I don't feel ready to talk again having to keep to myself interest that I might have. Related to trauma. I do not feel comfortable with tha #No I do not look at your blogs.#The day I said I was abused I had a panic attack right after that. That's mainly why I had to cut contact: I didn't want another one.#I didn't tell you because I didn't trust you to not say “talk to the void” again. I didn't trust you to want to hear about it. I didnt feel #safe with you anymore. Event tho we ressumed contact I felt that way the entire time.#I wanted to answer all the questions you had; I really did; until I couldn't stand it anymore.#And the day I removed you from discord... I know you probably had an awful day that day... I'm so; so sorry...#I'd like to one day be completely unbothered by assumptions and stuff cuz I know it's not your fault... You went through stuff too...#vent

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blackhakumen · 1 year

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Mini Fanfic #1096: Dear Mother (Helluva Boss)

TW://: Angst, Dark Themes

You. Are INSUFFERABLE to be around, Crimson!!!

So what? You wanna try and walk out on me? Divorce me even!? I'll end your trifling ass where you stand!!

Scare me all you want! I would rather living the rest of my life in the streets than to EVER be stuck with you any longer than I should! I'm leaving! And I am taking my son with me!

Go ahead and try and it'll be the last thing you'll do!!

Moxxie......my sweet baby boy, I'm so sorry.....

'SPLASH'

See that, Mox? Unless you wanna know what it feels like to be sinked down under, DON'T. FUCK WITH ME!

Moxxie quickly jolts up in the bed as he wakes himself up from a nightmare, a frequent one to exact. The white haired imp starts panting as quietly as he could to prevent his wife from waking up as well before he's calm enough to let out an annoyed, tired sigh from under his breath.

Moxxie: This again.....

It's been a day or two since Mox and his crew visited his father for the time in years, and unfortunately for him, the reunion itself was anything but happy. The uncomfortable atmosphere, the Intimidating tension between father and son, the painful memories of the past, and above all else, he had to put up with a sleeze-ball of an ex whom he APPARENTLY had a forced arranged marriage with that was orchestrated by his own father of all of people!

Luckily Millie and Blitz was able to crash the wedding at the last minute to save him, but even that wasn't enough to completely forget about the recent abuse his father had given him and the unsettling memories of his mother, the one person who actually gave a damn about him in this messed up world we called Hell before his wife came into the picture years later. And now she's gone......and it was all his fault......

The thought her alone was too much for the imp to handle. So he silently gets out from his side of the covers and gets himself up from the bed, hoping some fresh, nightly air would calm his nerves down and that Blitz isn't here lurking around to annoy him as per usual. He begins to head to the door until he felt his now awoken wife's hand softly grabbing his, preventing him to leave entirely.

Millie: Moxxie.....what's wrong? Where are you going?

Moxxie: Oh uhh.....(Smiles a Little) Hey, Millie, sorry for waking you. I was just...going out to get some fresh air is all.

Millie: (Frowns Worryingly at her Husband) You had a bad dream again, didn't you?

Moxxie: (Sighs in Defeat as He Sits Down at his Side of the Bed) Yeah.....It was about my family again for the millionth time. And it was a lot less pleasant than usual.....

Millie: I'm sorry, baby. (Pulls Moxxie's Hand Up to Give it a Loving Kiss Before Scooching Herself Over to Sit Next to Him) You don't deserve any of that, especially not after what happened that night.

Moxxie: ('Sigh') Yeah, but it's....whatever at this point. I'm just glad I was able to wake up sooner than later.

Millie stares into her husband's sadden eyes for a few seconds as she decided to come up with a different topic to help ease his stress.

Millie: You know, it has been a while since we've talked about your momma. What was she like?

Moxxie: (Looks Up at the Ceiling While Smiling Fondly of his Mother) Only the greatest mom I could ever ask for at the time. She's smart, kind, loving, and very beautiful too. (Turns to Millie) Kind of like you in a way.

Millie: (Heart Begins to Flutter in Pure Happiness) Awwwwwwww honey!~ You think I'm just like her?~

Moxxie: I-I mean, not completely! But you two do share a few similar traits from one another that I happen to love very much. (Begins to Frown) I doubt mother would love me again if she was here right now, but.....

Millie: (Starts Frowning in Worry Again) What do you mean?

Moxxie starts looking away again before hesitantly takes a very deep breath before speaking.

Moxxie: Millie, when I was young, I did something. Something stupid, horrible, cruel. Something......(Tears Starts to Fall Down From his Eyes) Something I will never EVER forgive myself for, no matter how many times I convince myself otherwise!

Millie: Moxxie, you don't have to tell me if you don't-

Moxxie: I killed her.

Millie: (Eyes Slowly Begins to Widened in Complete Shock) .......What?

Moxxie: I killed my own mother, Millie. With my own bare hands. F-Father and I were riding on a boat one night, i-in the middle of the late, and he had her tied up under a brown sack....a-and her ankles tied up in a rope connected to a brick-

Millie: (Already Fuming in Pure Anger) And HE made you kill her? Your own father.

Moxxie: Yeah....('Sniff') He made me drop her down in the lake, where she can never be heard from again.....('Sniff') I didn't even know it was her until I saw one of her heels floating up.on the surface.....('Sniff') (Whimpers Begins to Show the More He Starts Talking) I'm a monster, Millie.....A horrible monster!

Millie: No, you are not, Moxxie! Crimson was the one who forced you do all of this!

Moxxie: (Turns to Millie with Deep Sadness and Regret Written All Over his Face) But I went along and did anyway!

Millie: You were a CHILD back then, Mox! You were young, scared, and didn't know any better at the time! And even then, you COULDN'T have known that was your own mother in that sack!

Moxxie: Y-Y-Yeah, but.....('Sniff') I still hurt her......Me. Hwe('Sniff') (Turns Away While Brining Both his Knees Up to his Chin, Hugging Them Tightly) Not like it matters anyways. She's gone npw....and she'll....probably spend the rest of her afterlife despising me.....

This is upsetting.....To watch the love of her life, the man who love and cherish her since the day they both fell for each other, look so.... distraught, broken, and blaming himself for something that wasn't completely his fault at the time....it ignited two emotions within Millie. One was sadness and concern for her husband and the other was pure, unadulterated anger towards the man who has not only abused his only son but forced him to end the life of his own wife, the woman who had to put up with crap for lucifer knows how long!

This makes her wish she should've killed him off back at the arranged marriage, maybe even plan on calling Blitzo up to assist her in getting back him for every bit of damage he caused to Moxxie. But she realize that it's not the time for any of this right now. Now it's the time for her to cool down, stay calm, and be there for the man she fell in love with.

Millie: (Takes a Deep Breath Before Slowly Placing her On Moxxie's Knee) Listen Mox, I know I may not know a lot about your mother right now, but from what you've told me about earlier.....(Gives Moxxie a Small, Reassuring Smile on her Face) There's no doubt in my mind that she would still love you regardless of everything that happened.

Moxxie: (Slowly Looks Up at Millie) You....really think so?

Millie: (Happily Nodded) I know so, honey. And even if she does end up hating, which I, full-heartdly, believe that's not the case, you still have folks like me and Blitz, who loves you so much and would go through heaven and back to keep you safe from anyone who dares try lay a finger on you.

Moxxie: (Almost at a Loss For Words) Millie......

Millie: (Gently Places her Hands on Both of Moxxie's Cheeks) And one more thing, baby, I don't give a damn what anyone says. You are NOTHING like Crimson. You may have the same genes and last name, but you are already twice the man than that smug-face bastard wishes he was. And if we ever settled down and make our own family, I know for a damn fact that you'll be amazing dad to our one-to crap ton of our damn kids!!!

Moxxie: (Starts Snickering a Bit) One-to-crap ton?

Millie: (Starts Giggling a Bit) Yes, baby!~ One-to-crap ton. I've been taking care of my siblings 'til I left the nest on my own, I can handle momhood!

Moxxie: (Chuckles Lightly) I know you have it takes! You're not known as the Angel of Death for nothing, you know?

Millie: (Proudly Nodded) Damn. Straight. You feeling better now, 'hun?

Moxxie: Yeah. (Starts Wiping Small Bits of his Tears Away) I'm not 100% mentally, but I'll try and get over eventually.

Millie: (Gives Moxxie a Loving Hug) Take all the time as you need to ease your mind. I'm not going anywhere.

Moxxie: (Hugs Millie Back) I'm not expecting you to. I love you with all my heart, Millie.

Millie: I love you with all mines too, baby~

M&M begins their slow, sensual make-out session as they hold each other close for comfort.

Moxxie: Hey. Millie?

Millie: Yes, honey?

Moxxie: (Slowly Pulls Away From Millie's Lips For Now) I've been thinking. Since we actually have the day off to ourselves for once tomorrow......(Rubs the Back of his Head Back and Forth) How about we hit the gym together. Maybe do a sparring match or two.to pass the time.

Millie: (Eyes Widened a Bit in Genuine Surprise) You actually want give a gym day a try AND spar with me? What made you wanna do all of that?

Moxxie: (Shrugs) I figured I try pulling my own weight around our team and not hold to you and Bitz any longer than I should

Millie: (Pouts at her Husband) Moxxie! You are NOT a burden to either us!

Moxxie: (Gently Grab Hold of Millie's Hands) I know, I know. I just want to improve myself is all. At least in combat. I'm not close being as strong as you are, but it couldn't hurt to try.

Millie: ('Sigh') Yeah, you are right about that. I'll be your sparring partner for tomorrow. (Forms a smirk on her Face) IF you give me some cuddles and lovin' for the rest of the night~

Moxxie: (Happily Nodded) I can do that. Been wanting to give you my thanks for helping for the evening~

Millie: Then why don't you start doing so right now, pumpkin~ The night's young, ya know?

Moxxie: As you wish, my dear~

And so, the M&M spend the rest of the night picking up where they left off in their kissing session.

The past memories has never been too kind for Moxxie and it'll take a while for him to move on from it completely. But he's still content on living the rest of his live with people he cares about and for his mom sake, may she rest in peace.

@keyenuta

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#helluva boss #moxxie #millie #crimson #moxxie's mother #blitzo (mentioned)#angst #tragedy #emotional hurt/comfort #fluff #cute romance #moxxie x millie #finally made another helluva boss fanfic #ngl tho this....might be the darkest fanfic I've made yet #mother's month

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