#hurt/ comfort up the asshole

[sp0o0kylights]

Whole thing on A03

It didn't matter how much Steve explained. Not one member of the Party was going to get it. 

Tommy and Carol would, but then, they were no longer on speaking terms. A fact that hurt even if it was for the best--particularly in times like these, because they got it. 

They understood how he had been ensnared with the very same wealth people mocked him for. What it meant when his parents demanded Steve drop everything and go on vacation, his own plans be damned. 

They knew, because their families had done much the same, and so the lives they led also were tethered to leashes made of their parents' design. 

Dustin, whose mother bent over backwards to try and better her kid’s life, didn’t even have a frame of reference for this kind of thing, let alone sympathy. 

"Do they not understand you have a job?" Dustin asked incredulously, and Steve didn't have the emotional bandwidth to explain that his parents didn't consider working at Family Video to be a real job. 

As far as they were concerned, Steve could quit if he had to, and then go find another job when they were done using him to play the nice, All-American family. 

Likely for business purposes.

"They aren't the type to care." Steve said instead. 

It was easier than getting into it.

(Easier than explaining the BMW wasn't in his name, but his parents. 

How his money went into a bank account they had access to. 

That practically everything he owned was actually owned by Richard and Stella Harrington, and both were quick to remind him of that fact the second they felt Steve was acting out of line. 

And boy, had he been acting out of line. 

 Getting into fights. 

Turning their punishment of working a job they picked specifically for the humiliating outfit, into the far worse public embarrassment of being involved in a mall fire--an embarrassment because Steve had "lost" the keys to the BMW, had "put himself in danger" playing hero instead of letting the perfectly capable firefighters do it, then “paraded around” with bruises all over his face, racking up medical bills. 

Truly a sin for someone who hadn’t made it into college.) 

So no, this vacation they demanded Steve drop everything for  was not anything close to a reward, or even something they were doing to spend time together. There was a reason they needed Steve, and as far as they were concerned, Steve was at their beck and call until he shaped up and got his life back on track. 

His own plans be damned. 

"That's not fair though!" Dustin burst out and Steve sighed in relief, because here at least, he knew what to do to distract his younger friend.

 “We planned our trip months ago!” Dustin continued, looking two seconds away from giving in and stomping his foot. 

The kid might have been smarter than Steve--smarter than most people really--by a hell of a lot, but he was still fourteen. 

Smarts, Steve knew, didn't exactly equate to emotional intelligence, and it definitely didn't stop rampaging hormones.

Ice cream on the other hand, was a great aid in both areas. 

"You better be making this up to us." Dustin threatened thirty minutes later, spoon wedged deep into a sundae. “We can’t do, like, half the stuff we were going to do without you!” 

“I'm sure you guys didn’t need me to play ghost runners or whatever.” Steve said, but was quick to back down when Dustin nearly threw his spoon at him. 

Rather than antagonizing him more, Steve dutifully raised his hand to put over his heart. "I swear on your mom that I’ll make it up to you.”  

Dustin rolled his eyes, but otherwise, finally, let the whole thing go. 

Stupidly, Steve thought this meant the worst was over.

He was wrong. 

xXx 

Mike hadn’t cared. 

El and Will hadn’t really either, though both expressed some sadness that Steve wouldn’t be participating in the camping trip that the Party as a whole had been looking forward to for the past few months. 

Erica had simply snapped at him, making him promise much the same as Dustin had that he would be making it up to her sometime in the future. Likewise, she had been bought off by ice cream (even if she insisted it didn’t count because Steve owed her ice cream anyways.) 

Max was the surprising emotional standout. 

"You can't tell them no?" She demanded, arms crossed over her chest. 

Lucas was hovering awkwardly at her shoulder, shooting "what can you do?" vibes as hard as he could at Steve as his (currently on-again) girlfriend outright dressed the elder boy down; her shoulders creeping up higher and higher until she seemed to realize she was visually giving away her upset and forcibly relaxed them. 

Unlike Dustin and Erica, her tirade was very out of character and Steve was growing more concerned by the second that something was wrong the more she spat at him. 

“I mean for fucks sake, didn’t you tell them you had plans!?” She finished, eyes narrowed in rage. 

Which was rich coming from someone whose stepdad had Billy Hargrove running all over town before he’d run off after the guy’s death, but then, Steve knew better than to bring all that up.

(The image of Max, unresponsive in the hospital with casts on almost every limb, was still too fresh. 

Even now he didn’t like to push her, even if the Party as a whole did their best to take notice when one of them was isolating themselves again. 

Max, though she was down to one crutch, was still inclined to use it as a weapon and very much enjoyed practicing her swings on people’s ankles.) 

“I did indeed. They don’t care and they’re not giving me a choice, but for what it’s worth I am sorry.” Steve tried to keep his voice even and out of angry-shrieking range, and vaguely prayed it was working. “I swear, I will make it up to you guys, even if we have to go on a second camping trip.” 

This was clearly not the correct thing to say.

Though judging by the murderous rage being aimed his way, Steve was pretty sure nothing short of “You know what you’re right, let me go tell my parents to fuck off!” would make Max happy. 

“So you’re seriously just going to drop everything, all our plans, your job, us,” She took a very threatening step forward and despite her being a full foot shorter than him, Steve had to fight not to take a responding step back. “So you can go play rich boy in the Bahamas?” 

“We’re not going to the Bahamas--” Steve tried, but was interrupted with a loud “ugh!” of disapproval. 

“Whatever makes you happy, Steven.” Max spat, and then turned on her heel, storming off towards the rest of the Party (who had taken one look at Max’s face and fled into the arcade so she and Steve could “talk.”) “I’m sorry us peasants weren’t good enough to hang around!”  

“Sorry man.” Lucas apologized quietly, on his way to run after Max. 

Steve just scrubbed a hand through his hair and sighed. 

xXx 

“The kids are mad at you.” Nancy announced, appearing across the Family Video counter like a phantom. 

Steve swore, nearly dropping his stack of VHS’s, while Robin (who had clearly seen Nancy approach) cackled at his fumble. 

“Yeah, I did get that memo.” Steve said, after he stabilized his stack, safely moving them from his arms to the counter. 

Nancy peered around them, her face giving away nothing. “It is kind of shitty to cancel at the last minute like that. We were relying on you to drive.”

An old fury shook itself awake in Steve’s chest, taking an interest in the conversation the second Steve realized what Nancy was here to do. 

He took a deep, shuddering breath, and pressed it down, back into the box he’d slammed it in all those years ago. 

“I’d leave the keys to Robin here, but unfortunately, someone failed their drivers test.” Steve said instead, jamming his finger over his shoulder and blatantly attempting to pass the buck. 

Robin, who absolutely knew that was what he was doing, faked a gasp and kicked at his ankles. 

“That crotchety asshole failed me on purpose!” She protested, spinning to face Nancy. “He made like, three misogynistic comments before we even got in the car!” 

“Pointing out that he knew the car wasn’t yours wasn’t misogynistic, he was just surprised to see me letting you use the Beemer.” Steve shot back, rolling his eyes. “I don’t exactly let a lot of people drive it.” 

Unspoken was that Steve’s BMW was one of the town’s more unique cars, and thus easily identifiable by the locals at large. 

“How is that better!?” Robin returned, but Nancy cleared her throat before they could successfully get the Steve-and-Robin show on the road. 

“The point is that we--but really, the kids, were counting on you.” Nancy said, dipping into her patented “I’m upset with you” tone. 

A year ago it would have cut Steve to the bone, even if he didn’t show it. 

Now he just stared tiredly at her back. 

“I’m sorry, Nance, but it is what it is.” He said simply, hoping the apology (even if he knew it wasn’t so much a real apology as it was something he said to keep the rage from breaking out and wrecking havoc via his mouth) would soften his ex. “I don’t know what else to tell you.”

Given the abrupt narrowing of her eyes, it very much did not help his case. 

“For someone who was so vocal about trying to change I have to say this is pretty disappointing.” Nancy said simply, but with just enough of a tone that Steve had to close his eyes for a second. 

Feel the way that old anger, the one that had powered King Steve, hit the bars of its cage.

Robin stilled immediately next to him, her head ping-ponging between Steve and Nancy both as she too, clocked that Nancy was pissed, and here to chew Steve out about it. 

“Um.” She said, voice going high in discomfort. 

Steve grit his teeth. “I don’t exactly get a say in these things, Nancy. You know that.” 

He had to work to keep his voice even, fighting against the ice that wanted to sharpen his own tone. 

It was just---Nancy did know. 

Steve had told her all those years ago, in the safety of her arms, about his parents' expectations. Their predetermined path, the way they dictated large swathes of his life. 

How they’d allowed him to pick which sports he played, but required that he play a sport no matter the time of year. 

That the pool they had installed wasn’t for him, he just got to use it as much as he did in part because he’d joined the swim team, and the kind of mental mind games he and his parents played about things like that. 

Apparently either Nancy had forgotten, or simply hadn’t taken it in to begin with because she wasn’t backing down. 

(Not that Steve had ever seen Nancy Wheeler back down.) 

“I know you have trouble juggling your parents' plans with your own.” Nancy said, and her tone was absolutely icy now. “I certainly remember waiting for a date that never happened.” 

Steve sucked in a breath through his teeth, knowing immediately what Nancy was referring to. 

“I told you they came home unexpectedly.” He said, arms now crossed against his chest, nails digging into his arms as a way to help himself stay grounded. “They wouldn’t let me use the phone until the next day and I apologized.”

“And I recall having a lovely conversation with your mother where she said otherwise.” Nancy said, her words punctuated by another high pitched “Uhhhh.” from Robin. 

“Funny how you believe my mom over me.” Steve said and whoops, yup, he definitely sounded mad now. 

So much for all the effort he’d put in to staying calm. 

“Because I look at actions, Steve. Patterns. The same ones you kept repeating.” Nancy was clearly about to escalate, and Robin, bless her, had had enough. 

“He-eeey.” She said, wedging herself in between Steve and the counter Nancy was starting to lean over. “I totally get it, you’re both upset, but this maybe isn’t the venue to fight about it? There are customers in the store and--sorry Nancy--but I do kinda need Steve for work, so…” 

She trailed off, glancing nervously between the two of them. 

Nancy took a breath, blasting it out of her mouth like an academically inclined dragon. “You’re right. I’m sorry Robin.”

She then turned on her heel, making her way to the doors. She paused before them, and Steve prepared himself because he knew whatever she was going to say next, it was going to hurt. 

“I wouldn’t care if it was just me, Steve, but the kids don’t deserve you pulling this shit. Not after all they’ve been through.” With that, Nancy pushed through the door, head held high as she stormed to her car. 

As was typical for Nancy’s aim, she scored a direct hit. 

Steve, somehow, resisted throwing things. 

“Can you believe her!?” He said, the second the doors were closed and Nancy safely out of eyeshot. “Coming in here like that!?” 

He ran his hand through his hair, once, twice. 

A third time for good measure. 

“Yeah, that was seriously public for her.” Robin agreed, sliding up next to him. “Like really public.” 

Steve shrugged, because well. Not really. 

Not anymore. 

But Robin didn’t know that, just like Robin wasn’t entirely familiar with the depths Steve’s parents went to save face. They hadn’t exactly had time to really dig into it all, given how fast the Vecna situation had hit after Starcourt and the sheer PTSD both incidents had caused. 

Most nights they spent together was spent trying to avoid reliving nightmares, not discussing ones they were currently still living in. 

A fact that Steve was more than happy to bring her up to speed on, but to do so involved a lot of backstory, and backstory involved Nancy, and God, he was fucking pissed at Nancy. 

Soon it was an hour into his rant and he hadn’t actually gotten around to the sheer level of shit his parents would pull, too busy with Nancy and old echoes of ‘bullshit.’ 

 He only stopped when Robin put a hand on his shoulder, shaking him ever so slightly. 

“Dingus. You know I love you, and I know you’ve changed, but you do gotta admit, canceling at the last minute is kinda shitty and I get why they’re upset.” 

It was like the carpet had been pulled right out from under Steve, yanked so quickly he’d have to pinwheel to keep his feet. 

“What?” He said, eyes round in sheer surprise. 

“I just mean like, I get your parents are dicks but,” Robin’s face screwed up, looking like she’d sucked a lemon. It was her “I’m going to say something you don’t like face” and it hit Steve like a punch to the gut. 

“Our shift’s almost over and no offense, you’ve started to repeat yourself about Nance, and I get it! I do, memory shit is hard!” Robin’s hands moved as she talked, her bracelets jingling as if punctuating her point. 

“But I also think admitting you double booked yourself on accident and just taking responsibility for it would help smooth things over. Middle ground, you know?” Robin waggled her hands in a gesture that, for the first time in a long time, Steve didn’t understand. 

He found himself suddenly struggling to breathe. 

“Are you--are you saying you think I didn’t tell them I had a trip already planned?” 

Steve wasn’t sure how he managed to get it out. Wasn’t sure how he was doing anything, given the heat that was shooting through him, a hot mix of confusion and betrayal as Robin fidgeted to his left. 

“No! Okay well,” The lemon face got worse for a second. “I’m just saying you did kinda forget to pick me up that one time, and you do kinda blame your parents when stuff like that happens.” She bit a nail, peering at him out of the corner of her eyes.  

“I don’t--” Steve said, completely knocked adrift. “I…”

Robin didn’t believe him.

His Robin. 

Who wasn’t--wasn’t exactly siding with Nancy, but wasn’t saying she was wrong either, or that she understood that this shit was out of his control, and in fact, was kind of implying that Nancy was right more so than Steve was and---and--

There was a ringing in Steve’s ears he wasn’t sure actually existed. 

“I’m sure a lot of it is your brain injury. The doctors said your short term memory can take a while to fully come back and I totally get why you don’t wanna say that, I just, I think it would be better if--Steve?” Robin jumped back as Steve finally found his footing, swiping his jacket and punching out before she could catch how badly his hands were shaking. 

“I’m leaving.” Steve told her, his own words a million miles away, entirely uncaring if Keith fired him. 

Keith was likely going to fire him anyway, given Steve was about to ask for a week-long vacation not even four months after the whole Vecna ordeal. 

“Wait, Steve, hey--Dingus! I wasn’t done, I mean, I had more to say I, dammit Steve--!” Robin called after him frantically as Steve bolted for the door. 

Steve ignored her, aiming for the Beemer and swinging himself numbly into the driver's seat when he got it open. 

Put the car in park and avoided Robin’s face entirely as he backed it out, punching the gas far harder than he needed to. 

The Beemer roared in response, nose rising as it shot forward. 

Robin was his best friend. His fucking--platonic soulmate, as she kept calling him. The very idea that she agreed with Nancy in general was a blow but in this?

Against his parents? 

Nausea rolled angrily in Steve’s stomach, matching the sudden wetness that coated his eyes. 

Angry and needing an outlet, Steve stomped hard on the gas, taking the next corner far too sharp and making the beemer fishtail, tires squealing . 

He didn’t know where he was going.

He figured he’d find out when he got there. 

xXx 

Given what Steve knew about the universe at large, (nevermind Hawkins) it probably wasn’t the smartest thing to hang around the Quarry at night.

But then, summer was in full swing. Kids were home from college and itching to find a place to party without parental overhead. 

Deep to the left side of the water, around a few bends and tucked oh so neatly out of sight, was a place where one could do just that. 

Party.

This stretch had long been claimed by the college kids of Hawkins, and guarded zealously for it. 

With the sheer number of drunk people whooping and hollering around the bonfires below the ridge where everyone parked their cars, Steve figured he was safe enough. 

Even if he was up with said cars, sitting alone. 

Not like it mattered. If a demodog or demogorgan or demo-fucking-dragon decided to come along, Steve had half a mind to just let it have him. 

It felt easier than trying to fix the current mess his life was in. 

So he sat up here, blowing through the alcohol he’d purchased from the one gas station that never carded, drinking his problems away. 

(That also wasn’t the best course of action but with his parents home to spring the whole “vacation” ordeal on him, it wasn’t like Steve had a choice.) 

He hadn’t grabbed a lot--had been so damn upset and struggling to hide it that he’d picked up a four pack of wine coolers instead of the intended beer he’d wanted. It was all he had though, and so he chugged the last bottle with a wince and wished he was a hell of a lot drunker than he felt.

Then promptly caught sight of the person walking towards him, and wondered vaguely if he was drunker than he felt. 

Of all the people to come and offer him a can of beer, Steve would have never expected Tommy Hagan. 

He eyed it and his old friend both, before slowly reaching out and taking the can. 

“Heard you and your parents are doing CoHo this year.” Tommy said casually, leaning up against the front of the Beemer like it was old times. 

“Yup.” Steve replied, drawing the word out. 

“Angie Tideman’s parents are going, they’re bringing her ith .” Tommy said it casually, and had the good graces not to grin when Steve audibly groaned.

“Oh god.”

Tommy sucked on a lip, nodding absently. “Yeah.” 

Then; “It gets worse.” 

Steve, who now knew what this conversation was about, instantly began tearing into the beer can. “How can it get worse? You know what Angie’s like.”

Angie, whose full name was Angelina, lived a few towns over. Born to wealthy parents who doted on their beloved only child, Angie had more in common with your average shark than she did her fellow humans. 

A comparison that, frankly, was unkind to sharks.

She was without a doubt the most selfish person Steve had ever had the misfortune of encountering, and the mere idea of being trapped in a room with her made his skin crawl. 

Their parents were business buddies though, and god forbid he ever insult a business buddies kid, 

“She goes to Purdue, you know, with me and Carol.” Tommy said, instead of answering directly. “We cross paths a lot, party wise.” 

Steve stayed silent. 

Knew how Tommy talked, how his stories meandered. Especially the juicy ones. 

“She’s been talking a lot recently. Given you don’t look all that informed, I’m gonna assume the one person she hasn’t talked to is you.” 

Steve gripped the can of beer, a sudden, sick fear blooming in his gut. 

“Tommy.” He said mildly, not loud enough to really interrupt, but with enough force to let his former friend know to get to the point, now. 

“Got all super fancy right before we left for summer break. Hair done, whole new wardrobe, nails, you know.” Tommy waggled his fingers playfully, but dropped them when Steve just stared. “Went full whore on us. I swear she was making out with any guy who even looked at her--” 

“Tommy.” He repeated, this time a hell of a lot firmer. 

Done pushing, Tommy let go of the proverbial bombshell. “Apparently you’re planning on proposing to her this summer. She’s gonna return next year as an engaged woman, with you in tow, because apparently, you got into Purdue. Congrats by the way.” 

Tommy clapped him on the shoulder, right as Steve’s mouth went dry. 

For the second time that day, he found himself fighting the burning heat of embarrassment and fury as it rolled through him. 

“I’m proposing.” Steve said, as if saying it out loud would scare the very idea away. “To Angie.” 

“Yeah we kinda figured you didn’t know.” Tommy said with a snide little grin. To the average outsider it was mocking, but Steve knew better.

Tommy was uncomfortable, because Tommy had understood what Steve’s parents had done. 

“What I’d like to know is just how much Angie’s parents paid to get you into Purdue. That’s gotta be a minimum fifty thousand dollar donation at least.” Tommy removed his hand, to instead lean his shoulder against Steve’s. Like this was the old times, before they’d fought. “ I didn’t think they had that kind of money to throw around.”  

A past conversation with his father struck Steve, running through the front of his mind like a bad horror movie. 

“They sold the estate.” Steve said vacantly, the implications not quite hitting. “The one they’ve been trying to get rid of forever, over in Cape Cod.” 

“Oh shit.” Tommy said, blinking as he too, recalled what was likely his father telling him the very same news. 

“They sold the place on Cape Cod, and they used part of the funds to fucking buy me like a toy.” And yeah, saying it out loud, it definitely sounded bad. “I didn’t think Angie even liked me.”

“Does Angie like anyone?” Tommy asked, incredulously, but nudged Steve’s shoulder again when his joke didn’t net him the laugh he wanted.. “I mean, you had to know your old man had plans to straighten you out. He keeps getting mad at my dad, because the ass won't stop making jokes that I’m going to take over the company instead of you.” 

“And this is it. Attaching me to Angie.” Steve said vacantly. “Because they know if I get married…” 

He’d put his wife first. His family, first. 

The one he’d wanted, dreamed of, since he first realized he didn’t have one. 

He’d been playing checkers the entire time, too busy fighting fucking monsters and Russians to realize his parents had upgraded to chess. 

In a dizzying array of mental connect-the-dots, Steve replayed the last years worth of conversations. All the odd little things they’d said. All the dumb things Steve had just ignored. 

 They’d warned him. 

Had told him he better shape up, or they’d be forced to do something drastic. 

That his parents hadn’t wasted all this time, effort, money on him, for him to throw away his life like he was. 

“You better start acting right and figuring out how to get your life back on track, because you won’t like what happens if I have to fix it for you. You get a month Steven, and after that? Well. Just remember you forced my hand, Steven.” 

They knew. They knew him, and what made him tick.

“I think the real question is what Angie’s parents see in you.” Tommy teased, but then they both knew the answer to that puzzle. 

For all that Steve’s mom complained about her husband, the guy was a shrewd and calculating businessman. Those weekends, then weekdays, then more and more time away hadn’t just been so he could go screw his secretary. 

Richard Harrington had fast tracked his business to the point where it was now getting attention. The business journal, ‘Top 50 Companies to Watch’ kind. 

Even if Steve fucked up entirely, he was set to inherit a fortune and a business that would continue adding to it, for some time to come. 

Provided he did what his parents wanted.

Such as marrying Angie. 

Thing was, if his parents did what they always did, and held their wealth (his car, his home, his life and all the little things in it) against him like a gun to his head, if Angie got that ring around her finger? 

 Steve would bow to their whims. 

 Because they could fluster him into proposing so he didn’t embarrass Angie, and her parents and anyone else who’d undoubtedly be watching. They’d make a spectacle of it. 

Because once he did propose, they wouldn’t let him back out, burying him under guilt trips and veiled threats until he was marched down the aisle in a groomsman suite and told to stand. 

Because against all common sense, Steve wanted a family who loved him so desperately he’d chase it like a dog if he was presented with the opportunity and told to make it work. 

It didn’t matter that Angie was selfish. 

Steve would try anyway. 

His parents were maneuvering him as easily as they had back when he was a kid, using love as a tool to get him to do what they wanted and even seeing the nose hanging from the rafters, they knew just the right words to get him to place it around his neck. 

“Thought you’d wanna know.” Tommy finished, pushing himself off Steve’s car. “Before your parents sprung it on you.” 

“Sonofabitch.” Steve hissed angrily, a million thoughts racing through his head, the heat of being caught in a trap blasting down his spine. 

“Yeah.” Tommy added, rather unhelpfully. “But hey, given that you’re about to go on vacation to propose, why don’t we consider this,” here Tommy swept his hand, gesturing to the party below, “your proposal party?” 

It was a downright horrible idea.

But then, Steve didn’t exactly have a better one. 

Not  when the world itself seemed against him, grinding its heel into his back and laughing about it. 

He knew the drill. If he went down there, arm in arm with Tommy, then it wouldn’t matter that half those kids were from a few towns over, driven in by new college buddies.  

They’d see him as a reason to get wild, absolutely uncaring that they didn’t know who the hell he was. 

Steve needed that.

People who weren’t mad at him, buying into the easy lies his parents wove, or who didn't understand the games played against him. 

“Fuck it.” He announced, standing up from the hood of his car as Tommy’s grin morphed into something he used to see in the days of old, back when they were sneaking drinks from their parents' alcohol cabinets. “This way at least I get a party.”

Not like his parents were going to let him have an engagement party. Or a bachelor party, or likely let his ass back into Hawkins. 

No matter how long the engagement. 

Tommy cheered, raising his arms to the sky and Steve grinned wildly with him. 

He’d figure out how to get out of all this later--but for now, he wanted just a few damn hours where he didn’t have to think. 

Not about his parents, or Angie, or possible attempts to force him into marriage, like this was the yee olden days and Steve was a Victorian maiden who needed to be brought to heel. 

Likewise he didn’t want to think about the Party, or Russian torture, or how Nancy could be so damn smart in some things and downright stupid in others. 

He absolutely didn't want to think about Robin. 

“Hey boys and girls, look who I drug up!” Tommy yelled as they approached and soon, word had spread.

This was Steve’s proposal party, and he was here to get absolutely smashed (while encouraging everyone else to do the exact same, in his honor.) 

Which would be how Eddie found him a few hours later.

Still at the quarry, crossfaded off his ass, a forty in one hand and a lawn dart in the other. 

“Are you kidding me, Steve?” Eddie grit out, desperately trying to wrestle the lawn dart out of his hand. “You’re fucking partying with Tommy Hagan!?” 

Steve blinked at him a few times, finally catching on that Eddie was in fact, actually there. 

“When did you show up?” He asked, though given the wince on Eddie’s face and just how hard it had been to move his lips, Steve correctly assumed he’d slurred the shit out of the question. 

Somehow, Eddie understood him anyway. 

“Robin called me a while ago, gave me a list of places you might be. Almost skipped this one until I stepped out of my van to take a piss and heard the party.” Eddie explained, and somehow while doing so, he’d successfully gotten a hold of the dart. 

He was now working on removing the 40 ounce. 

Steve frowned, using his newly freed hand to grip it closer to his chest. 

“Harrington.” Eddie warned, and oh, wow, they were back to last names huh?

Well why not, it wasn't like his night could get worse. 

“This is mine, Munson.” Steve fired back, putting as much vitriol into Eddie’s last name as he could.

This did not detour the metalhead. 

“Come on man, give me the bottle.” Eddie said firmly. 

Steve shook his head stubbornly, enjoying the way his hair whipped at his face. “No.”

Another man stumbled over, a guy Steve absolutely did not know. He frowned, looking between Eddie and Steve. 

For two seconds, Steve thought they might have trouble, and given the way Eddie was tensing, he clearly thought so too. 

Instead, New Guy just kind of rocked on his heels. “Hey, shove off it, buddy. It’s this guy's bachelor party, let the man drink!” 

Eddie’s face did something complicated then, pulling the sort of expressive looks only he could manage.

It was both adorable and hilarious, and if Steve hadn’t just been reminded of the very reason he was drinking, he’d have told Eddie so. 

“Yeah!” He said instead, raising his hand in the air, toasting his bottle of forty against the other guy’s red solo cup. “It’s my proposalengagmentbachelor party!” 

Given the second, adorable-slash-hilarious look on Eddie’s face, Steve assumed those words hadn’t come out right either. 

“Okay.” Eddie said hands on his hips in a stance Steve was pretty sure Eddie had gotten from him. “Here’s what's going to happen. You’re going to put the bottle away. Then you’re going to give me your car keys, and then the two of us are going to my house to sleep whatever is happening here, off.” 

At least, that's what Steve thought he heard. It was a pretty un-Eddie like speech, and Steve maybe, might have been the one to say it, because he maybe, might have been mocking what Eddie had actually said.

Maybe.

It was hard to know, given that Steve’s thoughts were a thick soup on a bit of a time delay, and he was having a hard time figuring up from down, let alone what Eddie had been actually saying. 

Speaking of; 

 “When did I get into your car?” Steve asked, blinking as the van’s passenger seat appeared before him.

“Just now.” Eddie said, helping him in.

“Huh.” Said Steve, and then he maybe passed out a bit, because once again, he found himself awake and alert at a place that wasn’t where he’d just been. 

“Come on.” Eddie said gently, one of Steve’s arms over his shoulder as Steve leaned heavily into him, guiding the jock up the stairs and into the small house he and Wayne now called a home. 

The guy might have muttered a few things about bachelor parties along the way, but Steve was too focused on walking straight to really take notice. 

Part Two

[kennahjune]

Was having sad thoughts and thought about Steve and Eddie getting into a particularly bad argument and Eddie storming off without resolving it with Steve like they usually do.

The thing is, they’re both so careful about never leaving before an arguments done and fixed because they both know how that ends. Their parents are prime examples.

And then Eddie just leaves, like everyone else, and something snaps in Steve.

So he goes out by himself, probably all the way in Indy just for a new scene. He’s having fun— getting his mind off of Eddie and the argument and everything. And everyone’s actually kinda nice.

But there’s always one asshole who won’t lay off, right? And this dude just won’t take a fucking hint and then won’t take ‘no’.

So when Steve leaves the club, the douche follows and corners him and essentially it ends in another concussion for poor Stevie.

With this added concussion, Steve isn’t allowed to leave the hospital he’s brought to by a nice random man until someone is able to come and pick him up.

Steve actually spends a whole two days in that hospital because he refused to call Eddie. Not because he didn’t want to, but because he wasn’t entirely sure Eddie would come, and that would hurt more than any stupid concussion Steve could get.

But he relents eventually, and calls his boyfriend, who’s absolutely flabbergasted that Steve hadn’t called him sooner. Eddie’s there as soon as he can be, leaving work early and breaking every traffic law there is.

And then we get the awkward drive home and then the emotional make up because I don’t do hurt/no comfort.

[mythicalmagical-monkeyman]

So im not gonna tag any one in this because idk it feels awkward tagging people to come view this fic cause it’s so brutal buuut WHO WANTS SOME COOPER ANGST?? lol/not really, anyways under cut as always

Summary:

Left over magic from the Nightmare King brings rise to the Red Moon leading to the left over corruption in Night Hunter’s system to act up and so he decides to go after Cooper

Or

Basic white boy one beats up basic white boy two and tells him he sucks or smth

Additional Tags:

Other characters are mentioned slash there very briefly. Cooper (LEGO Dreamzzz) angst. Hurt No Comfort. graphic descriptions of violence but no blood/gore, Cooper gets beat up. Night Hunter Being an asshole. Corruption. Cooper being a little shit. I am the soul dealer of content related to this duo and it shows. No beta we die like Cooper’s feelings. Night Hunter is in his Six Eared Macaque era. Night Hunter calls out Cooper’s insecurities and uses them to bully him. Character Study (?), Don’t quote me on that, I Don't Even Know, author is running on limited sleep. Nightmare King is haunting the narrative even to this day. Angst, this is lowkey brutal imo. Swearing

Castle Nocturina’s halls were empty, strikingly contrasting how one would usually find it as of late; crawling with dreamlings and dream chasers from across the globe, sounds of all kinds echoing. Tonight was different however, its residents were either hiding or they happened to be outside marveling at the never before seen Red Moon that cast demonic light into the Castle through its windows. Either way everyone was unaware of the lone soul that snaked down the halls, his mind clouded with red. 

Beau didn’t want to be there, no not really, but as the Red Moon crept through the dream sky and filled everything it cast its light on with a deep feeling of unease he could feel his mind continue to slip. 

He should’ve expected it if he was being honest, he should have prepared better. Put some sort of safe guard up on his landing to be completely safe in an event like this but too little too late did the idea come to him. It was far too late for him to do any of that as by the time he thought of it the Red Moon had already risen and Beau could feel the Nightmare King’s corruption crawling back into his system after being dormant for quite some time. 

If Beau had to guess this “ Red Moon ” must have been tied to some sort of contingency plan the Nightmare King had set up long ago. Something that if the Nightmare King stayed dormant for too long it would rise from wherever the Nightmare King had been keeping it and affect all the things that had once been affected by the King’s corruption. All things of which Beau was unfortunately a part of. 

As much as Beau tried to fight against what his rising corruption was forcing him to do by throwing himself against walls when he could or doing what else he could to tire himself out his body kept on going. Additionally much to his dismay his mind seemed to continue to haze over the harder he tried to fight back.

Well he hoped if he came out of this funk with Zoey’s arrow aimed at his chest she could eventually forgive him again. 

His body dragged him up a set of stairs that he recognized as ones that lead up to the sliding glass door entrance to Castle Nocturina’s garden and as he reached the top he found the glorious view of the Red Moon greeting him. Interestingly enough, taking in the moon seemed to help some of the haze in his head fade but he could tell the thoughts starting to form were tainted by the growing corruption. 

The Red Moon was so massive only the top half of it could be seen from the garden, its glowing red surface seemingly grinning a Cheshire cat smile at Night Hunter as his eyes widened to try and properly take it all in. As small figures moved at the edges of his vision Night Hunter felt his gaze being drawn to the dream chasers littering the garden. 

Ah, just who he was looking for. Royce and Oz were amongst the gathered dream chasers but more specifically so was the new Brooklyn Bureau; the two annoying Garcia siblings, the cowardly shapeshifter, his daughter, oh and the blond one who’s whole existence Night Hunter was pretty sure was pointless. 

Night Hunter quietly pushed open the door and slipped outside into the garden where he quickly darted to hide behind a potted topiary cut to look like a teddy bear. 

Now what was he…

Before he could come up with a plan of action to begin to dispel the group of dream chasers gathered outside he noticed what looked like a small dispute arising between Oz and … uhhh, shit what was his name again? 

Oh right, it rhymed with pooper. That was it, Cooper!

Oz and Cooper were seemingly having a disagreement and Night Hunter quickly found his attention drawn towards it. How curious. Any discord between his enemies would be great for him, whether to manipulate or use to get under someone’s skin.  

Granted he was unfortunately a little too far away to hear what they were saying perfectly. 

He watched the two talk, a bit of squabble popping up as Cooper seemed to disagree with whatever Oz was saying which Night Hunter found himself perking up at. 

Wasn’t this the kid that respected authority to the point where it came off as teacher's pet? Where’d he suddenly get a backbone? 

Night Hunter’s excitement was killed in a split second though as Mateo joined the two and rested a hand on Cooper’s shoulder thus cutting off whatever had been bound to happen next. 

Cooper deflated. The conversation continued for a bit longer but eventually Cooper gave a small nod and walked off, crossing his arms grumpily. 

As Oz and Mateo rejoined the rest of the dream chasers, Night Hunter fixed his jaw noting how he had been gritting his teeth. 

A sharp whistle came from Zoey and Zian came flying in from somewhere. Zoey helped Oz and Albert climb aboard where they were joined by Logan. In a similar vein Mateo dream crafted his blob into a strange looking flying machine and hopped onto it with his sister and Royce as the girl who Night Hunter was pretty sure was called Astrid also dream crafted her wheelchair into a large eagle. The three teams then took off into the air towards the Red Moon just as Night Hunter noticed a little late that Cooper had made his way over to the door Night Hunter was hiding beside. Luckily Cooper was very much grumbling at his shoes and had yet to notice Night Hunter. 

Night Hunter stepped back quickly and hid himself more in the shadows. 

“Protect the dreamlings,” Night Hunter heard Cooper grumbling as he reached the door, “can’t believe I don’t get to check out the dream moon.” 

The blond reached out a hand in a way that screamed that he really didn’t want to go back into the Castle alone only to startle slightly as he found the door to be left wide open. 

Ah shit, he’d left it open. 

Night Hunter bit the inside of his mouth angrily, well he supposed that because of his still somewhat hazy mind he was bound to mess up like that at some point. 

Cooper began to glance around, looking on edge, and Night Hunter did his best to hold still in his spot within the shadows. 

Cautiously, Cooper turned back to the door and ducked inside, closing it behind him. 

“Hn,” Night Hunter grunted, easing himself out of the shadows and glancing in the direction the Brooklyn dream chasers had flown off in. They were mostly just small impressions on the horizon at that point, traveling towards the Red Moon at a steady pace. It would take a lot longer than he liked to catch up to them, and not to mention they outnumbered him greatly even if the gathering of other dream chasers down in the garden didn’t notice him take off after them. 

He could set up a trap for them of course. Slowly take out the dream chasers left behind one by one until they were all taken out then wait in turn for the others to return and do a similar thing. Granted that would mean he would have to figure out how to deal with Phil the Castle guardian. 

Never Witch had done it once before though and she hadn’t even had the upper hand of knowing the layout of the Castle so if he could do it right then all of Castle Nocturnia would fall by the end of the night. 

He was just left with one real question however, which dream chaser would he be starting with? 

Night Hunter mused on it for a moment before the perfect answer came to mind; he had already gone inside where he’d no doubt be perfectly alone and primed for an ambush. 

He snuck out from behind the bush and returned to the door where he opened it and slipped inside, this time remembering to close it. 

After a quick look around he found Cooper sullenly leaving that section of the building and entering a hallway that led to another. Without another thought, Night Hunter snuck after the blond as quickly as he could. 

As Night Hunter entered the hallway that Cooper had previously, he ducked down the other hall that led off to the side. He knew the two halls would eventually meet back up so if he was fast enough he could cut Cooper off. 

Much to his luck that’s exactly what happened. As he reached the crossroad that linked the two halls back up he slowed down a little and stuck to the shadows. Soon he heard footsteps echoing up from Cooper as the teen rounded a corner and continued on down the hall passed Night Hunter, to caught up in watching his own feet to notice the other. 

Night Hunter suppressed a smile and exited out of the side hall, “Cooper!!” 

Cooper jumped and turned to take in Night Hunter’s outstretched arms in subtle fear. Upon noticing Night Hunter’s hook hand and darker outfit he took a step back and rested a hand on his hourglass, “What do you want?” He asked, still eyeing the hook hand cautiously.  

“Well we all want a lot of things if I’m being honest,” Night Hunter answered, placing his hands on his waist and leaning forward slightly, “You want to go check out the Red Moon.” 

A guilty look crossed Cooper’s face as he cringed a little. 

Night Hunter noted the boy’s reaction and started to slowly prowl a circle around him while beginning to vocalize a list, “but you also want little Mr what’s his face to fall in love with you. But perhaps you also want…” Night Hunter trailed off, smiling coldly as Cooper’s face scrunched up like he was expecting a physical hit with whatever Night Hunter said next, “some freedom yes? Or hell maybe even those lost tech skills of yours. Would make things sooo much easier wouldn’t it?” 

Night Hunter came to a stop in front of Cooper and fixed the boy with his smile, waiting for a second to see what Cooper would respond with. 

Shakily, Cooper opened his mouth but it quickly snapped shut. 

Oh how curious.

“Getting those back would make you a whole lot less useless, no?” Night Hunter leaned forward and with as much venom as he could, laced his words with it. 

Cooper shrunk into himself and in a weak voice tried to protest, “I’m … I’m not useless,” 

“HA,” Night Hunter barked a laugh, “is that so?” 

Taking a small step back, Night Hunter fixed Cooper with an amused look, “Remind me again what exactly it is that you contribute to the team? Ever since they stopped with all the infighting, they’ve seemed to be getting along just fine without you.” 

Cooper opened and closed his mouth a few times as he tried to find the words to protest against what Night Hunter was saying as Night Hunter took up inspecting his hook. 

“They-they still need me!” Cooper finally got out but as soon as it passed his lips Cooper seemed to shrink even more into himself. 

Night Hunter snorted, “That so? For what exactly? You’re the tech guy with what tech skills exactly? Honestly if your friends want something fixed they could just go get Albert!”

Cooper shook and with a laugh Night Hunter reached out with his normal hand and gave the blond a sharp shove. Cooper fell down onto his butt and stared up at Night Hunter with fear, only to look away. 

A chuckle tickled at Night Hunter’s throat as Cooper swiped at his face before scrambling to his feet where he hugged himself. 

“Ok I can admit, these are starting to get through, but-but why are you telling me this?” Cooper asked shakily, trailing off as if not wanting to voice what else he was thinking of adding to that sentence, but eventually he continued, “I-I thought we were cool now? What with you being Zoey’s dad and all,” 

Night Hunter scowled, ignoring the small part of him that was agreeing with the teen, “Look kid, I’m taking you all out. Nothing personal,” 

“Really? Because it feels highly personal,” 

Night Hunter growled, and with a flick of his wrist he fear crafted a loaded crossbow, “Yap all you want, Curly, isn’t anything that’s gonna change my mind.”

Cooper’s gaze flicked nervously from the crossbow to the red light streaming in through the windows as he took a small step back. 

“It’s the corruption isn’t it?” 

Night Hunter blinked. Color him surprised. 

Cooper bit his lip and took another small step back before continuing, “I knew the colors of this “moon” or whatever it is looked familiar, it’s some type of Nightmare King’s magic isn’t it? It’s connected to the corruption he’s able to spread and it’s messing with whatever’s left of his corruption in your mind, isn’t it?” 

Night Hunter shot a warning shot at the spot on the floor next to Cooper’s foot. 

Cooper let out a small yelp and scrambled a few feet back. 

“Hey kid, leave the character breakdowns to me, yeah?” Night Hunter hissed while tilting his head to the side to crack his neck. 

A small squeak came from Cooper, “Ah shit, shit, if the corruption is fucking with your head… I’m in big trouble aren’t I?” 

Night Hunter grinned and reloaded his crossbow as he aimed it again, “What was your first clue?” 

Cooper’s eyes widened and just as Night Hunter fired he took off down the hall. 

A laugh shook Night Hunter as his arrow struck the ground, running? Predictable, but they didn’t call him Night Hunter for nothing. 

In record time Night Hunter stowed his crossbow and pulled dream sand from his hourglass so he could fear craft a shadowy lasso. 

He flicked it once and then swung it towards Cooper. 

“RUNNING NOW ARE WE!?” Night Hunter yelled, “Guess that really is all you're good for! Running away and waiting in the wings while your friends go off and have fun without you!”

The lasso extended far past it’s original length and snagged Cooper’s foot as he ran thus succeeding in triping the boy and knocking him to the ground. 

Cooper let out a groan. 

With a harsh yank, Night Hunter pulled on his lasso which caused Cooper to be dragged a number of feet closer to him. 

Lazily, Night Hunter made the walk over to Cooper and arived just as the boy was starting to fiddle with the lasso around his ankle. Night Hunter gave the lasso another flick and yanked Cooper down again hard enough that there was a sharp crack as the teen smashed his chin against the ground. 

Cooper let out a pained whine but it went unheard by Night Hunter as he let out a low chuckle, “You can’t escape me. Hell you can’t even fight me, not with how useless you are.” 

A whimper came from Cooper as the teen reached down to his belt and weakly started to dream craft something. Night Hunter kicked at his hands before anything could form and just for extra messure smashed his boot down onto one of Cooper’s hand’s, pinning it to the floor. 

Cooper let out a pained scream and Night Hunter felt himself being encouraged at this. He wiggled his boot, squishing Cooper’s fingers further as he flicked his lasso thus freeing it from around Cooper’s foot, and dispelled the shadowy rope. 

“AGH!” Cooper yelled out and Night Hunter removed his foot. He moved so that his feet rested next to Cooper’s chest and with a chuckle he kicked Cooper in the gut. 

Cooper let out a grunt and Night Hunter kicked him again. He then grabbed the blond by the back of the shirt, picking him up so that he could more easily punch him in the stomach as well. Cooper choked but Night Hunter wasted no time moving on to his next move. He gripped the cloth of the back of Cooper’s shirt and swung the teen around violently enough that he went crashing, back first, into the nearby wall. 

Cooper crumpled to the ground in a heep. 

Night Hunter watched him, listening to Cooper letting out coughs and grunts as he struggled to get back up. 

Hu, persistent little shit. He forgot about that. 

Night Hunter made his way over just as Cooper managed to struggle to his feet. Cooper shot a weak glare at Night Hunter and then spat a wad of spit onto Night Hunter’s boot. 

“Ugh,” Night Hunter grimaced in disgust at the spit and kneed Cooper in the stomach. 

Cooper let out a grunt and collapsed backwards against the wall but just as Night Hunter went to grab him Cooper held up a hand. 

“Hold on a sec, just… before you kill me,” Cooper grumbled out in pain, “I got somethin’ to show you.” 

Night Hunter grit his teeth but let Cooper continue. 

Cooper looked up at him with pained eyes and then took the hand he was holding up and turned it so he could flip Night Hunter off. 

Night Hunter growled and went to grab his crossbow only for Cooper to throw his other fist with a punch aimed at Night Hunter’s neck. Night Hunter caught the fist by the wirst before it could land and then twisted the arm violently out to the side. 

Cooper cried out in pain as he collapsed to his knees but he wasn’t there for long. Night Hunter grabbed him by the shirt collar and put everything into slamming the teen into the wall behind him. 

Apparently the force was strong enough to crack the wall as the area around Cooper splintered as a small impacted crater sprung up behind the teen. 

“You are nothing, ” Night Hunter bit out, sneering at Cooper as he groaned, “Nothing but some kid that got too wrapped up in his best friend’s fantasies to realize that he’s not a hero.” 

“There’s nothing special about you.” Night Hunter hissed. 

Cooper’s lip trembled as he struggled slightly against Night Hunter’s hold, “No. No my friends-!”

“Your friends don’t need you,” Night Hunter stated bluntly, pulling Cooper forward by the shirt collar just enough so there was room to slam him back again the wall. He then began to repeat this movement to emphasize ever sentence he bit out with his vemon laced words, “hell they don’t even want you, I saw the way they pushed you aside earlier. You’re an after thought to them who brings absolutely nothing to the team. They could just as easily get by without you.” 

Night Hunter kept going, hardly noticing the tears starting to stream down Cooper’s face, “ In fact the only reason you ever mattered to them was because they need to use you for their own gains .” 

Cooper shivered violently as Night Hunter pulled back, whining as he was also pulled along and bracing as Night Hunter yanked him up. Any support Cooper had been getting from the ground vanished as his feet swung forward, out from under him. With a twisted look on his face, Night Hunter pushed Cooper downwards and slammed him against the floor like the teen weighed nothing. 

The floor splintered in likes, same as the wall, and Night Hunter felt Cooper go limp under his hand. 

Too easy. 

Just as easily, Cooper slipped from his grasp as he let go and left the teen lying limpy on the ground. 

A small laugh bubbled up from Night Hunter, and with a breathy sigh proclaimed, “Face it kid, you would’ve been better off staying locked up in one of those Grimkeepers.” 

Night Hunter unhooked his crossbow from its sheath, reloading it with an arrow, and aiming it at Cooper as he mused about where he wanted to sink the arrow into. Cooper shifted a little to which Noght Hunter was surprised, he was sure he would’ve been too hurt at this point to move much. Much to Night Hunter’s disgust the blond still had enough energy to reach over and wrap his hand around the back of his boot. 

Night Hunter growl and planted his free foot onto Cooper’s face to try and push him away but Cooper’s grip only tightened and he gave a tug. Thanks to his bad footing, Night Hunter fell backwards as Cooper pulled his foot out from under him. 

Night Hunter landed with a grunt, bastard. He kicked his unheld foot against Cooper’s face and the teen let go as he was forced back. 

“ How,” Night Hunter growled, “Are you still being an issue,” 

Cooper shakily managed to push himself up onto his hands and knees as he let out a weak laugh. Thought it seemed to pain him enormously, Cooper forced himself to look up at Night Hunter and fixed him with a look full of pain, tear streaked cheeks included, and yet seemingly no hate. 

“I won’t let you hurt my friends,” Cooper wheezed out. 

Night Hunter was tempted to kick him again. 

Just as a response started to brew on Night Hunter’s tounge, he noticed Cooper had reached back to his hourglass and had begun to dream craft something. Night Hunter scrambled forward but Cooper simply slumped over to the side and Night Hunter pounced onto empty floor.

Whirling around as fast as he could manage, Night Hunter turned only to find Cooper lying on his back and holding a godforsaken Edison Bomb in hand. 

Shit. 

The Edison Bomb lit up, gold and red, and before Night Hunter could shut his eyes properly, only managing to look away much to his own dismay, it went off, filling that section of Castle Nocturnia with a blinding light. 

The first thing Night Hunter noticed when the spots cleared from his eyes was that the red light from the Red Moon was starting to die off, along with the hazy feeling in his mind. Whatever had been happening with the moon was starting to be fixed and Night Hunter was left to deal with the consequences of his actions, which weren’t many if he was being honest. 

He rubbed at his eyes to help his vision clear faster and once it had he found Cooper had flopped over on his side. The teen had begun to hug himself, curling up in a fetal ball and tensing, waiting for another thing to hit him. 

Everything else was the same as Beau remembered however, the floor and wall a splintered mess. So it really had been been that bad. His hazy mind had blurred most of the combat and a number of Beau’s fully formed thoughts that should’ve made him hesitate on what he was doing to Cooper. 

His corrupted state had really done a number hadn’t it? 

Beau glanced down at himself and took in his outfit, the corrupted garbs of the Night Hunter, and with a strained sigh used his fear crafting to will away the outfit and replace it with something a little more friendly; a flannel shirt and jeans. He shifted a little awkwardly and then reached out a hand towards Cooper only to stop short, yeah no he definitely wouldn’t appreciate being touched by Beau after being beat up by him. 

Beau drew his hand back and worked on mustering up the words to apologize. Finally they came, “Shit, kid I’m … I’m so sorry,” 

Cooper curled more into himself with a shutter, “Don’t-” he whispered. 

Beau closed his mouth softly and moved so he could sit down harshly on the ground, the weight and energy he had used up during the battle starting to blister up and leave him feeling sore and regretful. 

Beau wasn’t sure how long passed before he heard Cooper speak up, his voice still weak and shattered, “The truth is supposed to hurt right? Don’t apologize for that.” 

A sour feeling rose up in Beau’s throat, he was sure that out of everything said that night that had to have stung the most. 

Damn. 

Beau reached up to massage at his jaw as he tried to think of something encouraging to say but Cooper eventually disintegrated into a flaky glowing yellow dream dust as he awoke before anything else could be said. All that remained of him was the cracked floor and a small puddle of water where Cooper’s head had been resting.  

A frown crossed Beau’s face, he couldn’t blame the boy, he wouldn’t have wanted to stay there either. With that though Beau had been left alone with a guilty feeling started to eat away at his gut like maggots as the proper bright light of the dream world started to flood in through the windows. 

Oh god, Zoey was going to hate him if she ever found out about this. 

[2nebula]

having several (VERY GOOD) Emotions over Murderbot book update

my System Collapse is finished, my crops are watered, and my soul is fed

[lemonyinks]

I didn't like Mekt much but I do hate seeing him only utilized as a villain, as if Legion Worlds didn't happen.

Where is the Mekt who admitted that he was wrong to let his loneliness and jealousy dictate how he acted? Where is the Mekt that worked to be better? Where is the Mekt who welcomed Ayla home and put himself in harms way to help her save their parents farm? Where is the Mekt that delighted at the idea of seeing Garth again and was sad to hear he wasn't really coming back?

I don't know. Maybe it's just me but Mekt works so much better as a character of redemption and reconciliation than as one who stays bitter and antagonistic. He's more interesting that way

[little-mimikyuwu]

.

[orcelito]

Did the stuff exchange 👍 that sucked 👍 wahoo

[kelpiemomma]

Thinking about Khan and how he doesn't wake up from nightmares the way people might expect. He doesn't explode from them, swinging and breathing flame in defense. He doesn't wake up screaming.

He wakes up silent. And it's only if you're paying attention that you'll know he's awake. His eyes might open - but with his poor vision, it's not like he can truly see where he's at - and he might draw in a sudden breath. But it's the fact that he stops breathing that's the Sign. It's the way he suddenly goes quiet. Not that he snores or sleeps loudly anyway, but there is one less person making noise in the night.

Ingo isn't often awake when this happens. Very rarely, in fact, because Khan has nightmares almost every night. It's nothing new. Most of the time he will breathe, eventually, and take in the scents of his surroundings. He will realize where he is and use it to ground himself. And if he can't, then he will get up and find something to do until he can pass out from exhaustion and wake up better.

But it happens a handful of times. Ingo is awake when Khan comes to. And sometimes he doesn't realize it, doesn't realize Khan is awake until Ingo himself is returning to bed and looks down as he passes Khan's cot to see his green eyes open and staring at nothing.

But this time he realizes. He's awake, for no real reason, just sitting and listening to the world around him. Akari is snoring after a long day of survey work, Khan is sprawled out on his cot, the nocturnal pokemon are calling to each other in the distance… It's peaceful. Ingo rests with his head on one hand, eyes shut and enjoying it while he can.

And then one sound disappears.

He doesn't realize it's Khan at first, spends a moment trying to figure out what's missing. Akari is still snoring. The pokemon are still calling. Khan sleeps quietly enough that Ingo has, on occasion, put his hand under his nose or over his mouth to ensure he's still breathing. And it's that, knowing how quietly Khan sleeps, that makes ingo realize that Khan's breathing is what missing. That Khan is making no noise at all.

Ingo gets up and goes over to check, because Khan may be a prickly bastard but by now he's Ingo's prickly bastard like Akari is Ingo's daughter, he's part of the family. And sure enough Khan is awake. Eyes open wide. Staring at nothing. Ingo is ready to return to his seat when he realizes Khan is- not breathing. There's a tension to him that is abnormal, despite his nightmares.

So Ingo stays, sits down by Khan's side, and gently touches his hand. Too much touch too fast will wind up with fists flying towards him, so he takes it slow. Khan's hand is a fist. Ingo asks if he's alright, but there's no response. Khan's chest hitches, his breath sporadic for a moment, before a sound like a whine makes its way out of his throat.

And that- is so out of the norm that Ingo is now concerned. He puts a hand on Khan's arm, on his neck, as he leans over to look in the other man's face. Maybe it's the light of the night, but Khan's eyes seem… Shiny.

And this is a bad one. It doesn't take a genius to know that this is far from average. That whatever Khan has just dreamt of has truly, deeply affected him. Ingo pulls him up, pulls him into a seated position, and directs Khan's face to his own neck. Scent is Khan's strong suit, after all, and the best way to help him realize where he's at. Ingo ignores how his shirt gets a little damp- tells himself, for Khan's sake, that Khan is just drooling.

And Khan does what he never does and wraps his arms around Ingo. There's a desperation there, something terrified, and Ingo knows that this isn't something he can do on his own.

"Do you want me to wake Akari up?" He asks, because it never hurts to offer a choice.

"She's asleep." Khan says, which isn't an answer. His voice is hoarse and shakey. Ingo makes the decision for him, then, and extracates himself from Khan. Khan's hands follow him, reaching out, and Ingo is grateful for the first time his home is so small because he can hold onto Khan's one hand while he uses the other to shake his daughter awake.

Akari's snores vanish and she opens one eye halfway, confused. "Dad?" She asks. Her voice is low and thick with sleep. "Whassups?"

"Khan needs our presence. Would you mind joining us?" He says. And it's not the whole truth, but Akari wakes up more. Khan does not, ever, need anything from them. He's like a stray animal, coming to them when he chooses, but fully able and willing to survive on his own. And maybe now he still doesn't need them. If Ingo hadn't been awake, Khan would have laid there until he decided what to do. But Khan isn't making choices for himself, and Ingo knows he needs grounding.

Akari stands and Ingo helps guide her over to where Khan is still sitting. He's turned now, his legs thrown over the side of the cot as he hunches over and stares at the ground. One hand is still in Ingo's.

Akari reaches out, touches his shoulder, and that whine breaks from Khan's throat again. He leans towards Akari, rests his head against her, and then drags her onto his lap. She wraps her arms around his neck because he is gripping her so, so tightly, holding her like she's his saving grace, like if he lets her go the world will end. His shoulders shudder.

Ingo sits next to them, sliding Akari's legs over his own, and leans into Khan's side. He wraps one arm around Khan and is surprised when Khan returns the gesture, releasing Akari with one arm to pull Ingo into his reach. He is not just holding them but clinging. Ingo wonders, but doesn't ask, what he had dreamed about to make him so desperate. Ingo turns into Khan, places his legs over the man's but under his daughter's, and leans into the hold. After a moment, Khan turns his head to shove his nose into Ingo's neck once more. Akari is pressed between them, still holding onto Khan as if her hug will fix him, and Ingo knows they will both stay here as long as Khan needs them, wants them, to.

[fragglerockopinions]

The worst thing about suffering is that it still hurts when the danger is over but no one cares about it anymore because it shouldn't hurt. No one will ever say "I'm sorry that happened to you" especially when they barely say "I'm sorry that's happening."

[sp0o0kylights]

Part One / Part Two / Part Three (you're here)/ Part Four

A03

It ain’t much.” Wayne started, half-curious if the sight of his trailer would be the thing to offend Steve’s (so far lacking) born-rich sensibilities. 

Of course turning to look at the kid proved he was in his own head about this more than Steve was, because Steve had his eyes closed and looked two seconds away from puking. 

Right. 

Pain management. 

“I’ll get your stuff.” Wayne said as he guided the truck to its usual parking spot. 

Steve’s quiet ‘okay’ had him hustling a little bit, and the fact he had to gently guide the kid’s hand off his bag handle told him it was the right choice. 

The nailbat could wait in the car for the moment he figured, as he led Harrington in. He’d get it sorted once he’d fished out the pain pills and gotten Steve settled a bit. 

"Eds--he's my nephew that I told you about--has the bedroom, so you and I get to share out here." Wayne explained as he loaded Steve up on Tylenol and put a bag of frozen peas in his hand, not bothering to give a tour of the trailer. 

It was pretty damn clear which door led to the bathroom and which didn’t, given Ed’s door was wide open. 

Steve peeked at the absolute chaos strewn about beyond the doorframe but didn’t say nothing of it. 

Didn’t, in fact, even look too long, instead sitting at the table as directed. 

Seemed to sink a little into it, leaning an elbow on the cheap wood to help keep his head up. 

"The couch is a pull out, but I'll warn you the bar across the middle is nasty. I usually sleep on the cot over there," Wayne nodded to where it was rolled neatly against the opposite wall, "but given the state of you, I'll let ya have your pick." 

Steve blinked (or winked, not like Wayne could tell since the peas were pressed against half of his face) finally seeming to perk up a bit. "I can't take your bed." 

"I'm not going to fight you for it, I'm just offering." Wayne responded, now focused on trying to locate the bandages in his ancient medical kit. 

The one on Steve's hand was falling apart, and he didn't like the look of the injury he could see under it. 

Yeah, Wayne was absolutely going to need to make a run to the store. 

“Lemme see.” He asked as he finally got what he wanted. 

It seemed to take Harrington a minute to process what Wayne wanted, but he finally held out his injured hand, watching as Wayne unwrapped the bandages.

"I'll take the couch." Steve said stubbornly, but Wayne was past it, too busy frowning at the kid's hand. 

It took him a moment, once he'd gotten it all off, to properly realize what he was seeing--that the mottled bruising on Steve's wrist was separate from the cut across his palm.

In fact, it looked a hell of a lot like…

Wayne paused, then pretended to fuss with the dirty bandages for a moment while his eyes sought out Steve's other wrist.

Sure enough, matching bruises.

Someone had tied the kid up--and it hadn’t been the feds, because these bruises were partially healed. 

Wayne had initially thought of Steve as having been tortured in the same way roving bands of neighborhood kids tortured their peers. The kind of hurt that came when it was an unfair fight; four on one and wielding knives, so you had to take what you were given and pray you didn't get stabbed. 

He was not thinking actual, honest to God torture. 

Yet here the evidence was, plain as day.

'What the hell went down in that mall.' 

Someone as young as Steve shouldn't have been caught up in it, and it made a deep part of Wayne ache for the poor kid across from him.  

All this shit, and his parents still couldn't be bothered to come home.Just left him on his own, as if it was another Tuesday. 

Did they even know? Wayne wondered as he got to work. Had Steve, or Hopper, or anyone tried to call them about the mallfire? Let them know their son got hurt?

Jim said he hadn’t bothered to reach out regarding the spooks, but that had been a week or so later past the fire. 

Wayne couldn’t even imagine it. 

Getting a call that Eddie been involved in such a thing would have him off the couch in an instant, and the image that played on the news, the ones all the reporters talked over of a gurney being wheeled out of Starcourt’s on fire front doors…

He’d have been a wreck until he had his kid in his sights. 

‘Nothing you can do for that,’ Wayne figured silently, ‘but you can help him now.’

Wayne wasn't exactly an expert when it came to wound care, but like many people who just couldn't afford to go to a doctor he'd gotten by.

Learned a lot of home remedies. Figured out pretty quick when something needed to be seen by an expert and when you could hold off.

Made friends with some of the local nurses on the night shift down at the Red Barn, well enough that a few well baked treats and dishes could sometimes be traded for looking over a potentially broken arm or two. 

It had come in handy plenty, given Ed’s ability to attract trouble, but thankfully he’d never managed to hurt himself like this. 

He’d never even gotten caught in a bad fight. 

A black eye or two sure, but the kid had adapted his “scary” act not too long after Wayne had gotten him, and it seemed to work as intended. It was half the reason Wayne never said anything about it (and hell, even let Eddie take his ancient leather motorcycle jacket.) .

All of that was to say that he could tell Harrington's hand needed cleaning before it could be rebandaged, but didn't appear to need stitches. 

Course pouring alcohol all over an injury like this wasn't exactly going to be fun, and he told Steve as such.

"I know." Steve replied, with a grimace. The kid’s injuries seemed to be getting to him, and Wayne anticipated he was going to drop here the second Wayne was done looking him over. 

He hoped Harrington could get in a few hours--particularly before Eddie came home. 

Wayne gently wiped it clean, noting how well Steve sat given the amount of pain he had to be in.

Tylenol, even given the more than recommended amount he'd given Steve, just wasn't going to cut it. 

Not in general, and definitely not for this. 

What could help was likely something Eds had, which was yet another conversation Wayne wasn't looking forward to having.

Particularly given that Eds had sworn off selling hard drugs after his last encounter with Hopper, and Wayne knew damn well that had only lasted until the damn kid caught sight of an overdue bill. 

Too smart for his own good, Eddie was.

"I can give you something to bite down on, if you like." Wayne said to Steve, getting the alcohol and bandages ready to go. 

He got a tight smile in response. "So long as you don't use a needle, I'm good." 

And Wayne figured it was just teenager talk--a young man who didn't really know how bad this was going to be, and prepared himself to hold Steve's arm down accordingly so they wouldn't have to do it twice.

"Four." Wayne counted down. "Three. Two."

He poured on two.

Better that than Steve clenching up in anticipation.

Steve hissed, arm jerking, but stilled it under his own power as Wayne began dabbing his hand with some of the medkit’s wipes. 

He felt his eyebrow raise as Harrington froze himself in place, breathing in a way that felt practiced. 

This, Wayne decided, was not Steve's first rodeo. 

"Almost done." He promised softly as he finished wrapping the wound back up, this time in the pattern he'd been shown long ago. 

"Thanks." Steve said, blinking rapidly. 

The kid's eyes were wet, but he didn't let a tear fall, and that perked Wayne's attention more than anything. 

Some men felt they weren't allowed to cry--and pushed the same ideals on their sons. 

It wouldn't surprise him any if Richard Harrington was one of them. 

"I know you got hit more than just your hands and face kid." Wayne said, after letting Steve have a moment to recover. "You bleeding under that shirt?"

"Not bleeding." Steve murmured, looking more and more like he was struggling to stay upright now that the worst part was over. "I think my hand got the worst of it."

"Do I want to know what happened there?" Wayne asked, keeping his voice calm and non judgemental. 

Like they were back to talking sports.

"I fell back into a broken window.” Steve responded, and now that Wayne had seen the kid lie, it was easy to see when he was telling the truth. 

"Ouch." Wayne said flatly. Which made that hint of a smile flash across Steve's face. 

"I'll cut you a deal. I taped last weekend's game, but haven't had time to watch it yet. I figure you might not have had a chance neither." He sat back, nailing Harrington with a no-nonsense stare. "You let me take a look at what they did to your chest n' back there, and I'll put it on."

Steve just looked at him a little miserably, a beaten dog still hesitant to wag its tail. "I don't think there's anything you can do for it, it's really mostly bruised. Nothing feels broken though."

"You know what broken ribs feel like?" Wayne questioned partially out of curiosity but mostly to make sure.

Teenage boys loved to think themselves immortal after all.

Or at least his did.

"Cracked, but yeah." Steve admitted. "Couldn't finish out the year on the basketball team because of it."

He said it like it didn't hurt, but Wayne knew better.

Boy like Steve? 

He'd bet big bills something like basketball was all the kid really had, in terms of positive relationships.

(Except apparently, whatever had made Hopper decide to look after him.)

"I mostly just wanna make sure nothing looks like it's broken or bleeding internally son." Wayne said, then tried to cinch it with some good old guilt tripping. "I'd hate to have to tell Hopper that after all he went through to keep you safe, you up and died on my couch." 

"Hey, it might save him some future gray hairs." Steve responded but he looked a little more open to the idea, at least. 

It took a bit more coaxing, but Wayne finally got the kid to take his shirt off. 

The damage had him whistling out of instinct.

A fucking artist had gone to town on his torso, with bruised of all shades parading around to his left side. 

Thankfully most of it didn't hold that deep, dark tone that indicated any kind of bleeding, his back had scratches and road rash, and his shoulder had one long, thin line that looked a hell of a lot like Steve had narrowly avoided getting cut with a knife. 

"You got lucky, kid." Wayne told him.

Steve let out a shaky breath. "I know." 

He hesitated, then opened his mouth, a question clear on his face. 

Which of course, was the exact moment Eddie chose to walk through the door. 

"Hey old man, I--Harrington!?" 

"Munson?" Steve said, looking just as confused. "What are you doing here?"

"I live here?" Eddie had frozen in their little entryway, so close the door nearly whacked him on the ass as it slammed closed. 

Privately, Wayne cursed his nephew's awful timing.

"What are you doing here?" Eddie challenged back, and it was only years of Wayne knowin’ the kid to see he was struggling to decide how he wanted to react. 

“Uh…” Steve said, trailing off and looking pointedly at Wayne. 

Eddie saw this just as he registered all of Steve’s injuries. “Shit Wayne, did you hit him with your car?” 

“Don’t try to be funny, boy.” Wayne warned. There wasn’t much bite there, and Eddie, far too used to him, didn’t take it seriously.

Eddie was glued to the spot, eyes narrowing, “... Did Harrington hit the car with his fuckin’ face? Jesus christ.” 

Wayne could tell he was struggling to pull one of his usual little bits, eyes too wide and voice too high. 

He rubbed his eyes tiredly. “Eddie.”

“We can take him out back and shoot him, put the poor bastard out of his misery.” Eddie continued, like a runaway train. 

All gas, no breaks. 

It was a joke but a poor one, and it made Steve straighten out of his sideways slant. 

‘Dammit.’  Wayne thought with a sigh. 

He needed to stop this now, before the two of them went for each other's throats. 

“Since you already know each other I won’t bother with introductions.” Wayne cut in, before Eddie could blow up like a tea kettle--or cause Harrington to do the same. “Steve’s gonna be staying with us for a while.”

That of course, got the reaction Wayne had been hoping to avoid. 

Eddie stood stunned for a second, mouth gaping like a fish. 

“Why!?” He finally landed on, seeming both at a loss for words, and equally trying not to have a proper meltdown in front of Steve. 

Certainly wasn’t for Wayne’s benefit. 

"I'm…" Steve glanced at Wayne a second time, "...on vacation?"

 It took everything Wayne had in him not to run a hand down his face. 

He was going to give Harrington a pass, on account of the head trauma.

"You’re vacationing here.”Eddie’s tone was flat, but seething, like a lit fuse. “In my living room?” 

“...Yeah?” He finished poorly tone up-ticking at the end like it was a question. “It’s a--college thing. Supposed to help my applications.” 

This time, Wayne did run a hand down his face this time. 

God save him from idiot teenagers. 

Hands clenched tight, Eddie took an aborted glance to the right before shaking his head hard and scoffing. At least it let Wayne know exactly what his kid was thinking. 

To Eddie’s right was the counter where Wayne kept the bills. 

Before he realized just how badly Ed’s daddy had messed him up about such things, Wayne hadn’t bothered to hide the bills that were past due. Turns out the kid noticed such things, and worry over money had been the leading factor in more than one of Eddie’s run-ins with Hop.

Clearly, he thought it was the cause of Wayne entertaining this bullshit. 

Offense was written in every rigid line of his body, and Wayne knew betrayal wasn’t gonna be far behind. 

“What the hell Wayne!” Eddie spat, taking a singular step forward, the accent he tried so hard to hide growing thicker the madder he got. “We’re not a damn experiment--why would you agree to that!?” 

He had seconds to salvage this, before Ed’s ran and did something dumb. 

“‘Steve’s here cause I owe Hopper a favor.” Wayne answered honestly, standing to put himself between the two. “He reminded me of all the times he’s been good to you, and then he called it in. Now,” 

He cut Eddie off before his rant could pick up steam and bowl them all over. “I need you both to listen to me. Steve, I need Eddie to know the basics in order to keep you safe. I’ll only tell him what he needs to hear to understand why that is.” 

Steve stared at him for a moment, catching Wayne’s eye as the elder man positioned himself so he could see both boys at once.

“Okay.” Steve said, dropping the hesitant tone for something serious. 

Eddie said nothing, crossing his arms tightly over his chest and gripping the edges of his jacket hard enough to leave creases. 

Judging that as good enough, Wayne continued. “He’s not here on vacation, Ed’s. Hopper has asked us to house Steve for a bit due to an ongoing situation. It’s a dangerous one, and it’s important you do not tell anyone that Steve is here.”

Eddie’s mouth did the thing it did when he desperately wanted to say something, but Wayne held up a finger in the universal “wait.” position. 

“Let me finish.” He warned, and though he caught a hell of a glare for it, Eddie remained silent. 

“Right now I need you to trust me, son.” He said softly, and prayed that alone was enough for now. “I don’t do things without a good reason behind it. I know you know that. Let me get Steve settled, and I’ll come talk to you.” 

He could go in depth a little more, outside of Harrington’s eyesight. There Eddie would be inclined to drop the parts of his personality he put on blast as a defense mechanism, and ideally, Steve could get the sleep he so desperately needed. 

“It’ll be tight, but we’ll all get through this so long as you two keep your heads. “You both got plenty of problems right now on your own, you don’t need to add to it. You understand?”  

Eddie’s eyes narrowed dramatically as he sucked in a deep breath. 

“Fine.” He snarled, letting air hiss through his clenched teeth. “As long as King Dick here can keep himself out of my shit.”

Steve didn’t rise to the bait--or perhaps, was simply too tired to want to do anything but exit the conversation. 

‘Yes Sir.” He said instead, and Wayne didn’t bother correcting him that time. Simply clocked the title as a nervous tick of Steve’s and let himself feel that brief pang of sorrow that he’d caused the kid to backslide a bit trust wise.

No use for it, though.

Not if he wanted peace in his home. 

“Good.” Wayne said. 

Eddie stormed past, beeling towards his room. 

The door closed with an angry slam, the sound echoing throughout the trailer. 

Steve reacted like a puppet with its strings cut, letting out his own breath and going right back to slumping sideways. 

“Come on kid.” Wayne said quietly. “I think it’s beyond time you got to lay down. Let’s get you a shirt and some blankets.”

Steve didn’t say a word, just managed to get himself up and over to the couch, fumbling for his bag. 

“Oh.” He said after a moment, pulling a green sweater from the duffel and blinking dully at it. “Shit--I mean, shoot.” He shot a guilty look to Wayne, like Eddie hadn’t just sworn up a storm in front of them both. 

“What’s the matter?” Wayne just asked. 

“It’s nothing, I just-- grabbed the wrong bag.” Steve told him earnestly. It was clear the day had taken a hard toll on him, because he was blinking rapidly, fighting away sleep. 

A bad sign, given the energy Eddie had just come in with. 

It should be taking him longer to feel safe to drop off, and that he was doin’ so anyway was a bad testament to the state of him. 

“You need a different one?”

Steve shook his head. “No this is just my grab bag for the Upsi-errrm.” He hummed, before falling silent for a minute. 

Wayne let him fish for words at his leisure. 

“These are just clothes that I couldn’t get stains out of, kept them as backups.” Steve managed, before beginning the long process of pulling a shirt on. 

Wayne almost offered to help, except he knew he’d likely be rejected. It was too soon, the trust between them not there yet. 

He almost let the clothing comment go, figured it as  just one of those things the brain did when it was injured and run down. The sweater Steve was struggling with was expensive and soft, and Wayne didn’t even see a stain until the poor kid finally finished getting it on. 

He nearly froze, for the second time that day, when he did.

On one sleeve, smeared like Steve had wiped his face with it, was a bloodstain. 

This one was old, and clearly attempts had been made to get it out. 

‘Aw kid.’ He thought, staring at Steve as the kid managed to swing himself up on the couch, looking seconds away from dropping off. ‘What the hell has life done to you.’

It didn’t take long before sleep took him, but Wayne watched over him for a bit longer anyway, working up to what the hell he was going to tell his kid. 

Eddie might very well not forgive him for this, but Wayne had a shot now to head things off before they got worse. 

He just had to find the right words. 

[gone-series-orchid]

thinking about right after orc hits bette, he and howard are done with their sheriff duties so they’re camped in their house playing video games and orc has been his typical vague self, staring with glazed eyes at the tv screen with his mouth half-open and fingers pressing buttons like mad on the controller, when suddenly howard says something about how this beats being in school huh and orc’s eyes clear up and his eyebrows knit together and he stops playing and it all hits him, really hits him, and he starts to sweat and hyperventilate because this is real, this is all real and he hit a girl with a baseball bat in his own two hands and her head made a really bad sound when he hit it and she looked like a rag doll when she fell or like a zombie in a video game, but this was real

[bunnyboy-juice]

i hope all my friends who i don't talk to as much as i wish i did know they're constantly in my thoughts

[onceuponaroast]

Not to sound like an overdramatic sadboi but. I think. It would be nice to be someone's first choice. Just once I would like to be a priority, for someone to specifically choose me. I think that would feel really good.

[taeeflwrr]

oh.

(i reached the tag limit but i do wanna emphasise that im not against feminism and im happy yn didn't just succumb to the trope but i truly wasn't paying attention to the preface and didn't expect such a plot twist and angst and ending so I'm really shaken up because i was expecting something cute and silly and now im in actual physical pain and i need a resolution to this (hopefully a sequel where jaem's a better man and actually loves her) to make me feel better.))

(also omg somi was such a nice person only she knew the real him while all his other friends were nasty fake bitches. she actually cared and knew him even though she wasn't even there most of the time. also I need to know did jaem break up with his friends after the incident or is he still with them senior year? what made him switch his major? also did he ever even actually love her or did he think he did at the time? oh god the pain is getting worse this truly broke me shsjsjsjsj i need to cry I NEED A SEQUEL)

barbie girl.

if life is plastic (and therefore, nonbiodegradable), then it’s so not fantastic. honestly, who came up with that? regina george really should’ve googled about the new plastics economy.

or alternatively, pretty girls rule the world, and you find out that he’s (not) all that.

pairing :: na jaemin x reader genre :: comedy, fluff, angst ⋮ makeover + college au word count :: 24,618 words warnings :: body issues, body image, weight mentions, insecurities, beauty is a social construct, [spoiler] did something bad, people being literal scum, so much gaslighting that you can start a wildfire and j*ke gyll*nh*al should take notes, “if a man talks shit then i owe him nothing” playlist :: pretty boys (romi) ⋆ you can’t sit with us (sunmi) ⋆ i just wanna know (katherine li) ⋆ lie to girls (sabrina carpenter) ⋆ look what you made me do (taylor swift) ⋆ leftover feelings (regina song) ⋆ number one girl (rosé) + extended playlist here. author’s note :: she’s all that is one of my most favorite rom coms ever, but i’ve always been ///: at the whole makeover idea and decided to write my own version !! the idols mentioned in this fic are just characters, and how i portray them in this fic do not reflect how i actually view them or their irl personas. as always, much love to miss lana and miss moon for being my biggest cheerleaders ᥫ᭡ ↳ part of the 𝔯𝔢𝔭𝔲𝔱𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 collaboration series.

i. hiya, barbie! hi, ken!

Na Jaemin does not know that you exist.

Good looking, charismatic, and popular — it’s his world, and you’re just living in it. Or something like that. You’re decently smart, somewhat funny, and not pretty enough to stand out, but not exactly hideous according to societal standards (source: those beauty quizzes in Seventeen magazine that you used to be obsessed with when you were thirteen and in desperate need of flirting tips). If he was the main lead, you’d probably be Extra #6, maybe Extra #2 on a good day.

By your calculations, the two of you should never cross paths, like two parallel lines. Wait, scratch that, you would probably never be aligned with anything that has to do with this guy. You saw him standing outside of the door of your shared accounting classroom during your fall semester, and he spent twenty five minutes editing his picture for Instagram and ended up late for the lecture. And he probably already spent even more time selecting the final photo to edit before you arrived to class and noticed him. Absolute idiot. Absolute handsome idiot, but idiot nonetheless. A grade A himbo with a grade C in financial accounting. 

Okay, so scrap the parallel lines theory, maybe skew lines are a better way of explaining it. Yeah, that seems about right, the two of you are from completely different dimensions, never meant to interact or run parallel with each other. And once again, by this logic, your paths should never cross.

“Y/N!”

You stand corrected.

Na Jaemin does know that you exist.

Keep reading

[what-even-is-thiss]

The reason people don’t want to work is that it’s just normal for them to be in bad work environments.

My issue with working at Walmart wasn’t the work itself I was doing. It was the circumstances around it. The concrete floor, lack of places to sit, having to put up with asshole customers, not getting time off for injuries, and bad pay.

If I had been given shock pads to stand on or a few chairs to rest on sometimes, if they paid me a livable amount of money and I was allowed to yell back at asshole customers, if they had given me any amount of training, I would happily work part time folding clothes all day and telling people where the swimsuit section is.

I’m a creative type. I’m a writer. I’m pretty smart, even. But if I could make a living folding shirts and listening to podcasts in one ear and helping people find the scented candles for 30 hours a week? I would. Leaves some mental space free for me to brainstorm. Lets me catch up on my reading with audiobooks.

But instead I was treated so badly by upper management and customers that I’m like legitimately a little frightened whenever I step into a Walmart now. And I only worked there for three months a few years ago.

I’m a good lower level worker. When I’m treated well. I like finishing tasks. I like being helpful. I like having some time to talk to coworkers and some time alone with my thoughts. I’m a frickin team player. And that’s how I was at my first job. I was treated well by my supervisor. I was trained. They were patient with me. I was so good at being low on the totem pole at that job because I was valued and felt like I was being listened to. I was able to sit still when there was nothing left to do which made it feel less bad when we were on a time crunch. I didn’t mind working hard at that job because it was fun even though I was doing all the low level stuff that the supervisors didn’t want do.

But at Walmart I was like that for all of two days. Then I figured out that nobody appreciated my work and if I worked in my normal people pleasing manner I’d kill myself because their standards were high and the rewards for meeting them were low.

So I slowed down. I started avoiding customers. I started taking a lot longer to get to my breaks and to come back from them. I became worse at my job because no matter how good I was at it there would be no reward, no appreciation, and I’d just be pushed further beyond my limits.

My only level of happiness from that job came from the people who were working with me. The old ladies and my department manager who made sure I wasn’t overextending myself. The one other young man working in the clothing department who always got sent with me to unload the heavy stuff and commiserated with me about the shoulder injuries, the hurting feet we were too young to have.

But none of that was enough to make me stay. We were constantly understaffed. I was constantly abused by customers and not able to do a thing about it. I was not paid much at all. So as soon as I had enough saved up for what I was trying to do and my last semester of college was about to start I handed in my two weeks.

I would have found a way to stay if I liked that job. If I liked that job I would’ve pushed myself to my mental limits to finish college and keep that job at the same time. Heck that job could’ve been a rest from college. A place to get away from it. But I hate that job so I got out as soon as I could.

I want to work. I want enough money to live sort of comfortably. I want to have some tasks to do to give my creativity a rest. I want to be a part of something. But the way that modern corporate run work environments are set up does not give me any of the things I actually want out of a job. And I think that’s the same for millions of people right now. A lot of people would happily spend their lives as a waitress or an Uber driver or a warehouse worker or a farmhand or any other “low skill” job you can possibly think of. But with the way the world works right now those jobs are absolutely miserable. It doesn’t have to be that way. I know because I’ve had a fulfilling part time minimum wage job that I looked forward to going to every week. A job where I was listened to and allowed to sit when I needed to. I miss that job. Especially now since I’ve realized that’s not the standard. It should be. People should look forward to going to work or at the very least not get mild ptsd whenever they set foot into a Walmart.

[bpdbunnyy4ngel]

i feel absolutely awful and idk how to do this