#i said it would hurt.....

[spamgyu]

Inbox, Full // Seungcheol Oneshot

DESCRIPTION: Four years has passed many has changed, but yet not quite much at all... A highly requested Part 2 to Disconnected Calls PARING: Seungcheol x Reader GENRE: Angst

If this exact moment had been granted to him four years ago, his reaction would have been much more different.

He would have stood frozen in his spot, trying to swallow the pain that would have formed in his chest - the one that he waited for but didn't quite appear. It's been a long while since this crippling pain, the one that left him gasping for air, was associated with you.

Hell, it's been a long while since he had associated any emotion of pain to you.

You were nothing but a distant memory now. The person that he once felt pure regret and anguish towards was someone he now cherished – someone he thanked.

You were his greatest lesson.

It may have taken him a while to learn, but Seungcheol wouldn't have had it any other way.

Years has passed, and though you two may be strangers now, he knew you.

He knew how you stood, Seungcheol could pick out that posture in a crowded room.

He knew that you liked to cut your hair shorter during summer months – wanting to relieve yourself from the overstimulating feeling of the strands sticking to your neck as the humid season rolled in.

You may have had your back towards him, but he knew – Seungcheol knew it was you that was sorting through the pile of watermelons. It was your favorite summer fruit after all, there was never a day during the hot months that your counter space didn't have that large green fruit.

He waited for a couple more seconds for that familiar feeling of grief to show up – but nothing.

Letting his legs overpower his brain, he made his way towards you.

"Need help?" Seungcheol came up from the other side.

You have heard his voice in passing; on the radio, television ads, and other forms of media – you didn't think you would hear it again. Not in person at least.

Looking up to meet his eyes, you couldn't help but notice how much brighter they were.

The bags, they were gone.

The cloud that seemed to have formed above his head, lingering for months after the break up, was nowhere in sight.

The warm smile formed on his lips was no longer forced.

It was as if a brand new man stood before you.

"I- Hi." You breathed out, almost as if you were still trying to register if he was in fact stood before you.

"Sorry– that was a really lame way to approach you." He chuckled sheepishly.

"No, I– No it's fine." You shook your head.

You knew this was a big step for him; after all, he was the one that shut you out. Him approaching you meant he had finally healed.

"How have you been?"

"Good, I- I'm actually just visiting."

"Oh-" His eyes grew wide, his bottom lip jutting out as he nodded.

You had followed your dream of starting a new life outside of the country. Seungcheol should have known the bustling city across the globe that you two had jokingly made plans to settle down at is now the place you called home... with a whole different man.

The one he heard about. The one that brought happiness back in to your life.

The man that was able to place a ring on the finger Seungcheol had once promised on doing.

"How about you?"

"Ah, well you know–" Seungcheol trailed off, not exactly knowing how to sum up the past four years. "The kids aren't kids anymore."

"That's a given." You let out a small laugh at his poor attempts of making a joke – some parts of him had not changed one bit.

Still addressing the band of brothers, who aren't too far from either one of your age, as kids. Something you had gotten accustomed to referring them as during the days when you were his.

There was a brief pause as the two of you tried to find more words to say to one another – using your eyes to communicate all that your mouths couldn't.

With the simple silence, you were able to see how much he had grown since parting ways. You were able to accept his silent apology; the apology he had been meaning to send out for pulling the rug right under you.

And you were able to let him know that he had been long forgiven.

It was all in the past and despite the initial anger, you never were angry at him for too long.

You couldn't be.

You cared for him far too deeply, loved him far too much, to not understand why he had chosen to end things the way he had.

Besides, no amount of anger and hatred could have changed the outcome – you had forgiven Seungcheol not just for him, but for yourself as well.

"It was great seeing you, Cheo–Seungcheol."

Seungcheol pulled his lips into a tight smile, hearing how quickly you had caught yourself from uttering that nickname he had missed so dearly.

Not that he was aware of it.

Hearing it had nearly transported him back in time; back to when all he knew was chaos – and you were the only constant in the midst of it all.

It was a strange brief feeling of nostalgia; the warm feeling radiating in his chest confusing him.

"You too, Y/n." He breathed, taking one last glance at you before heading back to the cart he had abandoned a few feet away.

You didn't dare look behind you to bid him one last goodbye, the interaction putting a sudden halt your new reality.

It was as if you were thrown back in time – back to when you had first caught glance of the ring you had thought you wanted.

Back to a time when everyone had been congratulating you for reaching a new milestone and all you could think of was the man that had left you out cold – letting you fall only for him to not be there to catch you, as he had promised.

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．

Seungcheol hated many things and moving was at the top of that list.

"Let's get this shit over with." He grumbled as he opened the one last box he had promised himself he would sift through – making sure the contents inside were something he wanted in his new space.

He didn't need to dig through the contents of the small 12 x 12 cardboard box to know what it held. The only indicator he needed was the iPhone 13 that sat atop the piles of letters, pictures, saved receipts, and miscellaneous trinkets.

It was a box that held the evidence that you were once in his life.

Just as earlier in the grocery store, his limbs worked faster than his brain; reaching to grab the phone – turning it on.

Within minutes, notifications began to roll in – no, rush in.

It was as if he had opened the flood gates without realizing there had been a ten foot wave waiting for him.

They were all voicemails from you.

Seungcheol knew it wasn't a good idea to check it out, he knew he should turn the phone off and go back to what he had originally been doing.

But curiosity had gotten the best of him and he had opened the application.

The notification bubble had been in the double digits and as he scrolled through, he realized you had done exactly what he had been doing during the times he had felt he was at his lowest – you had been leaving him messages.

For once, Seungcheol chose to listen to his brain and opted to not listen to any of them – at least, not the ones that were dated at the time when the break up was still fresh.

He knew what those voice memos contained; it was similar to the ones he had sent out to the void all those years ago.

It wasn't until he had reached the very bottom when a particular date peaked his interest.

It was the date he had found out you were engaged.

You had called him the same day he had called you.

That pain, that tightening at the chest, the one he waited to appear at the grocery store – it had finally come.

Stumbling back, allowing for the back of his legs to indacate him that he had reached the side of his bed, Seungcheol plopped his body down – his thumb hovering over the play button.

"This is a bad fucking idea." He chewed at his lip, almost as if he was attempting to talk himself out of the decision his heart had already made for him.

There was no going back now.

Hitting the play button, your voice began to play aloud. "Seungcheol, if you're out there– if you somehow get this– I– I made a mistak–"

"No." He shook his head, not bothering to listen to the rest of the message. Seungcheol knew he was a coward for not wanting to let the message play on, but he also knew there was no good in listening to the remainder of it.

Especially knowing that he was somewhere across town doing the same – expressing how much he had regretted his decision of ending things between the two of you.

He didn't want to let himself spiral down the rabbit hole of what if's; he had covered that hole.

Seungcheol refuse to dig it up again.

He was finally okay.

He has finally moved on.

Unfortunately, the voice of reason had once again been over powered as his curiosity took notice of a voicemail that was dated a few months after that god forsaken day.

"Fuck." He sucked in a deep breath as he felt his thumb press onto the device.

"Cheol," You sounded just as broken as the previous message; if not, even more. "I called it off. I couldn't do it."

Seungcheol felt all the blood from his body drain and pool at his feet upon hearing this.

You had called off the engagement.

The engagement that had sent Seungcheol over the edge, spiraling for months on end – unable to see the light at the end of the tunnel as he tried his best to move on from you.

"I'm moving to New York. I– I need to leave." You sniffled back a sob. "I– one of us has to fulfill that dream, right? I'll do it. I'll go. Maybe I'll tell you all about it one day. I– I just can't stay. Not when I feel like I see you everywhere I turn."

He took a glance at the time stamp once again – his brain sifting through the memories to try and recall where he was at the time that message was sent.

He was barely moving on from you at the time.

All while he had thought you were making plans for a wedding, you had actually called it off – because of him.

Seungcheol had forcibly moved on from you because he thought there was no longer a chance to make amends; to take back all the pain and suffering he had put you through.

If he had only–

"No, there are no if's or but's." Seungcheol scolded himself. "Not anymore."

He had worked so hard to get himself out of that rut, he had spent many nights crying on his best friend's shoulder – he couldn't take all that he had worked for and throw it all away over a message that he had missed four years ago.

Standing up from the bed, Seungcheol swiped out of the app – ready to turn the device off once again when the unthinkable had happened.

Another voicemail.

Dated to today's date.

It was as if the universe wanted to see him down – as if it wanted him to suffer.

Can't he just move on? Can't he finally enjoy the life he was living now? The one without the guilt?

"Y/n what are you doing?" He stared at the notification, hearing his heart grow louder in his ears as each second passed.

He has no choice but to listen to it, right? Considering he missed all the other ones.

Right?

Seungcheol internally groaned knowing that, despite all the years that has passed, he never could resist you.

He will always have a soft spot for you.

Maybe it was the love he had for you – the one he had come to terms would never fully go away. It may not take up the same amount of space as it did before, but he was mature enough to acknowledge that you will always be there.

Or maybe it was the guilt, the one that kept him up at night for as long as he could remember. His brain never failed to remind him of all the wrongs he had had committed against you – reminding him of all the promises he made and neglected.

There was a long silence that filled the room before your voice was heard; almost as if you were still finding the right words to say.

"I saw you today." Your voice was soft. It didn't sound quite as pained as the previous voice memos – but it was there. He could hear it.

You sounded almost defeated.

"I thought I was okay. I should have known I would run into you one day." Your voice had now become shaky. "You looked good– mature."

There was another silence.

"You– you look happier."

Seungcheol's heart began to ache at the thought of you realizing how much he had changed since you had last seen him.

He saw that you had changed as well – but he didn't catch on the way you did.

Maybe he didn't quite know you after all. How could he have missed the fact that your shoulders dropped the second you caught sight of him?

How did he miss the fact you had grown pale, seeing that he was clearly in a better mental state than you were?

You were once each others worlds, revolving around one another – but now, you two were just stars passing. Both completely lightyears away – hurdling towards different suns.

Or at least, he was.

"I– I know I said that last time was the last time– But seeing you– I– Everything came rushing back." Your voice cracked.

"Just let it out." He found himself mumbling, knowing that you had been suppressing the tears.

"I swear after this, I'll stop. I'll let go."

Don't.

Because he hasn't fully let go.

Maybe that's why he approached you.

Maybe that's why his feet found it's way making over to you instead of leaving you alone.

"Honey," Seungcheol whipped his head towards the sound of the sweet melodic voice – pulling him out of his thoughts and back to his reality. Within seconds her head popped into the doorway of the room, that beautiful smile painted on her face – the one that melted his heart at first sight.

Just as quickly the pain had appeared, it disappeared at the sight of the woman who now held the key to his heart.

The confusion, the pain, the guilt – it had washed away.

It was all just a temporary feeling.

"Movers are here, you ready?"

Blinking quickly, to regain focus, Seungcheol mirrored the her smile. "Yep. Just gimme a sec, yeah?"

"Take your time." She hummed before disappearing back into the hallway.

Take your time, whatever that meant.

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@iamawkwardandshy

[inkskinned]

he says i hate everyone except you and that is addictive and that is kind of romantic and beautiful because you're young and you're kind of a sarcastic asshole too and you don't like bad boys, per say, but you don't really like good ones either. and you like that you were the exception, it felt like winning.

except life is not a romance book, and he was kind of being honest. he doesn't learn to be nice to your friends. he only tolerates your family. you have to beg him to come with you to birthday parties, he complains the whole time. you want to go on a date but - people are often there, wherever you're going. he's just so angry. about everything, is the thing. in the romance book, doesn't he eventually soften? can't you teach him, through your own sense of whimsy and comfort?

at first - you know introverts often need smaller friend groups, and honestly, you're fine staying at home too. you like the small, tidy life you occupy. you're not going to punish him for his personality type.

except: he really does hate everyone but you. which means he doesn't get along with his therapist. which means he has no one to talk to except for you. which means you take care of him constantly, since he otherwise has no one. which means you sometimes have to apologize for him. which means he keeps you home from seeing your friends because he hates them. you're the single exception.

about a decade from this experience, you'll type into google: how to know if a relationship is codependent.

he wraps an arm around you. i hate everyone except you. these days, you're learning what he's actually confessing is i have very little practice being kind.

[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

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Thank you. I'm sorry.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[badboysteve]

Steve really looked at these severely traumatized kids regularly giving him shit, threatening to prosecute him, dragging him into danger left and right and said:

'Yeah! Yeah, give me six of my own. I want to do this for the rest of my life.'

And I think that's beautiful.

[jeeaark]

Hey Game. Quick Question Game. I know you want to curate this whole orph vs emps story really badly but like. What if. What if. Instead you maybe give me the option to ask Orpheus to unthrall emps during the final showdown?????? BECAUSE I KNOW HE CAN. LEMME JUST-

Even just to wipe the smile off the netherbrain's dang metaphorical squid face, can you imagine if we coulda just swiped squid buddy from the netherbrain's control?

AT LEAST Give Emps another chance to choose what side to fight on after Orpheus somehow agrees to co-operate come oooonnnnnn

[turtleblogatlast]

I will never be over how good Leo and Hueso’s dynamic is and how both of them get so much out of having the other in their lives.

In Leo’s case, he gains that older male figure in his life that he is willing to trust and lower his walls for. He gains a confidant where he has none elsewhere, too busy keeping up his many masks with his family to ever consider showing them his true thoughts. He gains an authority figure who is willing to hear him out, no matter how reluctant said figure initially appears.

In Hueso’s case, Leo’s direct involvement in the skeleton’s life has undoubtedly benefited Hueso so unbelievably well. For one, it’s Leo’s choice to ask Hueso for help finding his brothers that ultimately leads to the clearing of Hueso’s Hidden City ban. Then, it’s Leo and Mikey that Hueso brings on to help him with two mob bosses, ending with the bosses no longer being a problem for Hueso. And of course, through Leo’s decision to come to Hueso for advice and later the slider’s insistence that Hueso try to make up with his brother, Hueso’s estranged relationship with Piel is finally mended.

Sure, Leo causes no small amount of strife and damages to Hueso’s business and person, and Hueso is often annoyed by and speaks callously to Leo, but there’s a reason Leo feels comfortable enough to continue going to Hueso, and there’s a reason Hueso ultimately always hears Leo out.

They really do end up feeling like a nephew and uncle, don’t they?

[lunarharp]

What led to this (orufrey comic, cw an uncomfortable/creepy scene)

[kenm4vhs]

chibi gojo will always have a very special place in my heart

[pcktknife]

anime characters to go get a big greasy ass burger and fries with

[firefly-sky]

it’s kinda funny how almost every character with albinism in media is always portrayed as a villain. as if that isn’t feeding into every stereotype out there.

the only protagonist i’ve found with albinism in media was in a book where the girl turns out to be a witch. which is arguably on the level of bad as the evil albino stereotype.

idk why this bothers me so much. nobody knows about albinism and it’s not like it’s actively discriminated against. but i wish there was more media where more normal people had albinism instead of the PWA turning out to be an evil villain or a witch, they turn out to be a normal person with normal struggles. like give me a story about a character with albinism trying to navigate the world on their own terms, trying to fit in and such WITHOUT using stereotypes.

like yes. i know people being ignorant towards a certain condition isn’t the worst thing in the world. maybe i have no right to complain about it given the other tings that are happening in the world that kinda trump issues like this. but it’s still an issue. the fact that people believe these things is just sad to me tbh.

another thing that bugs me is when people refer to us as ‘albinos’. like not everyone hates that word. some PWAs are okay with it. i just say it because it’s shorter and easier to type out than ‘person with albinism’ but even in media seeing the character being referred to as ‘the albino’ makes my stomach turn. people use the word ‘albino’ to refer to animals; most of the time. the word itself can feel dehumanizing sometimes, in certain contexts. for me it’s better to say person with albinism. it’s putting the person before the disability and it doesn’t feel as degrading.

anyway. my inbox is always open if you have questions for me about how to write a character with albinism. i know nobody is gonna see this or care but i just thought i’d say smth.

[inkskinned]

you were raised in comparison.

it wasn't always obvious (well. except for the times that it was), but you internalized it young. you had to eat what you didn't like, other people are going hungry, and you should be grateful. you had to suck it up and walk on the twisted ankle, it wasn't broken, you were just being a baby. you were never actually suffering, people obviously had it worse than you did.

you had a roof over your head - imagine! with the way you behaved, with how you talked back to your parents? you're lucky they didn't kick you out on your ass. they had friends who had to deal with that. hell, you have friends who had to deal with that. and how dare you imply your father isn't there for you - just because he doesn't ever actually talk to you and just because he's completely emotionally checked out of your life doesn't mean you're not fucking lucky. think about your cousins, who don't even get to speak to their dad. so what if yours has a mean streak; is aggressive and rude. at least you have a father to be rude to you.

you really think you're hurting? you were raised in a home! you had access to clean water! you never so much as came close to experiencing a real problem. sure, okay. you have this "mental illness" thing, but teenagers are always depressed, right. it's a phase, you'll move on with your life.

what do you mean you feel burnt out at work. what do you mean you mean you never "formed healthy coping mechanisms?" we raised you better than that. you were supposed to just shoulder through things. to hold yourself to high expectations. "burning out" is for people with real jobs and real stress. burnout is for people who have sick kids and people who have high-paying jobs and people who are actually experiencing something difficult. recently you almost cried because you couldn't find your fucking car keys. you just have lost your sense of gratitude, and honestly, we're kind of hurt. we tell you we love you, isn't that enough? if you want us to stick around, you need to be better about proving it. you need to shut up about how your mental health is ruined.

it could be worse! what if you were actually experiencing executive dysfunction. if you were really actually sick, would you even be able to look at things on the internet about it? you just spend too much time on webMD. you just like to freak yourself out and feel like you belong to something. you just like playing the victim. this is always how you have been - you've always been so fucking dramatic. you have no idea how good you have it - you're too fucking sensitive.

you were like, maybe too good of a kid. unwilling to make a real fuss. and the whole time - the little points, the little validations - they went unnoticed. it isn't that you were looking for love, specifically - more like you'd just wanted any one person to actually listen. that was all you'd really need. you just needed to be witnessed. it wasn't that you couldn't withstand the burden, but you did want to know that anyone was watching. these days, you are so accustomed to the idea of comparison - you don't even think you belong in your own communities. someone always fits better than you do. you're always the outlier. they made these places safe, and then you go in, and you are just not... quite the same way that would actually-fit.

you watch the little white ocean of your numbness lap at your ankles. the tide has been coming in for a while, you need to do something about it. what you want to do is take a nap. what you want to do is develop some kind of time machine - it's not like you want your life to stop, not completely, but it would really nice if you could just get everything to freeze, just for a little while, just until you're finished resting. but at least you're not the worst you've been. at least you have anything. you're so fucking lucky. do you have any concept of the amount of global suffering?

a little ant dies at the side of your kitchen sink. you look at its strange chitinous body and think - if you could just somehow convince yourself it is enough, it will finally be enough and you can be happy. no changes will have to be made. you just need to remember what you could lose. what is still precious to you.

you can't stop staring at the ant. you could be an ant instead of a person, that is how lucky you are. it's just - you didn't know the name of the ant, did you. it's just - ants spend their whole life working, and never complain. never pull the car over to weep.

it's just - when it died, it curled up into a tight little ball.

something kind of uncomfortable: you do that when you sleep.

[khaopybara]

GMM'S MEN KISSING MEN PODIUM - BRONZE MEDAL KHAOTUNG THANAWAT

Podd Suphakorn, Tonhon Chonlatee (2020) 55:15 Never Too Late (2021) removed from the set👍 First Kanaphan, The Eclipse & Only Friends (2022, 2023) Book Kasidet, Only Friends (2023) Mond Tanutchai, Only Friends (2023)

(set only possible because of all the data gathered by @ranchthoughts who made a whole gmm kissing multiverse post)

[originalaccountname]

putting my hands on your shoulders looking directly into your eyes why are you so insistent that Dazai is faking every emotion every second of every day except when he's acting mean or evil why do you think his dark side is more true than his happier or sillier sides

do you not also have multiple facets you show different people? are we not all beautiful multifaceted individuals? are your actions and reactions not influenced by your emotions and state of mind?

can't he laugh at his own jokes? can't he fondly think of the Agency? can't he be dramatic because he wants to? can't he be surprised by something suddenly happening, even if he knew it would happen? do you not jump when the jack in the box gets out even if you were the one working the mechanism?

why would the mean persona be more real? why would any and all joy be faked? why are you only allowing him misery?

[anqelbean]

For the wellness of my own heart I never want Yue Qingyuan to find out the Shen Qingqiu he knows is not the same Shen Qingqiu he loved. I want him to stay ignorant for the rest of his life. I'd rather have him fooled that Xiao Jiu just changed because of a qi deviation then find out about Shen Yuan. For both Yue Qingyuan and Shen Yuan's sake.

[emblazons]

Forewarning: Gay Mike talk skip if you want

Not to be that person in 2024 that pride gifset did it to me but I still genuinely do not understand how the "girls being girls was never a problem for Mike" argument came to be, considering THIS the show's Mike talking about, learning about, confessing to and just being around spaces re: girls:

note: this isn't even touching any of the moments we see hints that he's into boys—JUST the moments where we see his displeasure with/disinterest in engaging with girls (or commentary by other guys who are interested in them). Will, a confirmed gay character, doesn't even have this many reminders of his lack of interest in girls.

Once is a coincidence. Twice is a pattern. Twelve times without real effort to pull every example? and I didn't even include him taking a girls hands off him while kissing or the four other times they kissed eyes open or hidden? Iet's be so serious lmao