#tw slurs at points

[mtndewsangritablast]

if there is a hell i KNOW my father in law is going there when he dies. where the fuck do i even begin? this story will just Have to exclude little details. there is so very very much and it's been transpiring over the course of a few years.

so this dude is a manipulative, abusive, useless, garbage piece of shit whose gaslighting bullshit started decades ago. i won't go too in depth on this part bc i dont want to overshare someone else's information but there will be parts of this story where you may think jesus christ, how is this still going on? buddy i ask myself the same kinds of questions but let ye who has a healthy relationship with your parents cast the first stone. the context needed to have sympathy here is that this is a Long LONG complex situation that we're talking about. for a Bit if background, my partner didnt see or hear from his father between 2015 and 2019. so. take that as you will going forward.

it started about 3 years ago when a series of careless decisions left Me (somehow one of the most level-headed people involved!!!!! if you can imagine!!!!!!!) in possession of literal decades worth of my father in law's hoarded shit. being a hoarder is not a moral failing, but deciding to get rid of the stuff and pawning it all off on your son and his partner is Annoying to say the very fucking least. this was obnoxious but i thought At Most that it was a shitty but temporary situation.

WRONG

he expected us to hold on to it until he was ready to have it back. my partner being Too Patient and Honestly The Real Victim Here for having this man as a father chose to honour this wish. as you can imagine this inch became a mile quickly.

he started demanding to crash on the couch, threatening suicide and claiming domestic violence and things of that nature. i cant confirm or deny the domestic violence allegations but i will say that he has made these claims everywhere he has ever lived. this turned very quickly into him manipulating my partner into letting him move in with us. i knew it would go horribly but my hands were sort of tied (knew FIL could and would use any excuse to isolate partner from his loved ones so ive been treading the Bad Guy line very carefully here). i should also point out that FIL's girlfriend at the time was His Perfect Equal in every way and so my partner was biased towards hating her more, as she was someone he had just met.

immediately i had problems living with him. i have Always hated him because he used to misgender me constantly, so i should state this bias now. he seems to view me through a lens that is transphobic, homophobic and misogynistic all at once - that is to say, he believes i should be responsible for all the housework, and that i should listen to his every word and meet his every demand without complaint. it started out with him talking at me Constantly. i don't mean we were conversing, i mean that this man would sit behind me while i did chores and tell stories about pranks he used to pull in the 80s all day, getting annoyed if i tried to change the topic. throughout the course of these stories it became constantly clearer and clearer to me that he was absolutely an irredeemable piece of shit. to put it bluntly, almost all his stories put him in a bad light and he didnt seem to realise at all. he started to get really annoyed with me in general for not laughing at his bullshit, challenging his constant use of racial slurs, and not appreciating the homophobic comments he made about me on a daily basis. (i know you read "homophobic" and "use of slurs" and now you have a burning question, so i will answer; yes he Does call me a faggot). he quickly became my number 1 sworn enemy. to be extremely clear, yes, the fact that he is sitting and watching housework be done does mean he doesnt do any himself. he has outright stated that he thinks i should be obligated to take care of him. we'll return to this point. fucking trust me.

by this point in the story you're wondering why my partner has not kicked him out of the house. i KNOW. but it does become more complicated when you realise that at the time my partner was working 11 hour shifts every day and FIL was a completely different guy around him. still obnoxious and a bit arrogant, but nowhere near the human waste i had come to know. it started to get to the point where i was furiously angry at this dude 24/7 but my partner had never seen him do more than make an out of touch joke. this is the part where i say something vague about how i have mental health issues that i dont want to air out, but suffice to say that making me look paranoid and reactive is Not a hard task.

one night while i was doing dishes, i stopped to use the bathroom and FIL broke 3 of my wine glasses while i was gone. a gigantic fight ensued where he attempted to convince me i had actually broken them myself and my partner walked in on this happening. this is when i first thought the tides would turn and things would get better. partner atarted to see the issues but wanted to give him the chance to change. at this point he is still under the impression that his dad is someone who is perpetually down on his luck, who has had a difficult life and has been mistreated by everyone around him. basically is treating him like a shelter dog who is lashing out but still good at heart. he hasnt heard the same stories yet as i have of the guy who has had everything in his life handed to him for free, but is such a dickhead that he has fucked over everyone who ever tried to help him and fucked himself doubly in the process. after a certain point it started to wear on our ability to spend time together when i was constantly complaining about his dad instead of talking to him about literally anything else, so i honestly started to carry this on my own for a bit.

anyway, it becomes one of those "sit him down" situations. to remind you, this is a borderline senior citizen and not a toddler. they set out a timeline for him to stop drinking so heavily (alcoholism is also not a moral failing but it does have consequences for the people around you, so i get why he thought this would help) and as it became more and more obvious to my partner that his dad was not actually aiming to reach Any of these goals and had Zero respect for his boundaries, we set up our own little secret timeline for me to get a job so we could afford to move again. (i do have a job rn but i am often unemployed due to uhhh Obvious Reasons). so, things are going well yes? the veneer is cracking, he is proving himself selfish and unreliable. this should be about where it ends, yes?

WRONG

MIL passed extremely suddenly last july. the relationship there is somehow even more complex than this one so i won't even go into it, but we'll just say that this Fucked my partner up mentally very badly. he had a lot of trauma open back up and suddenly became very invested in fixing his relationships with his family members. i have never had to process grief on this level so i cant judge it. he decided to give his dad one more chance and for a little while i tried to be cool with this.

the relationship between FIL and i continued to deteriorate. after the wine glass fiasco i literally have refused to speak to him. this has not changed in about a year. i Hate this man more than i can say and my life is better for not interacting with him. i digress. me ignoring him becomes very Very contentious around the house, again it seems like i am the one Causing the majority of household tension because i am the most reactive to it. this sucks shit but is usually how things go when you are prone to being overemotional. a massive argument ensues between my partner and i where we eventually come to the decision that i will move out for a few months until our lease naturally ends. we obviously didnt break up or i would have referred to him as my ex at some point but i knew removing the buffer would make him see that his dad is a pure shithead. i dont know where else to interject this but the dude has also stolen a total of 26 full packs of cigarettes from me and this alone warrants the death penalty.

so. let's talk about the last 5 months, shall we?

turns out this dude was somehow putting on airs on my behalf. all of his behaviour immediately got more extreme because he felt like he had won. the buzzkill faggot (his words) was gone and he could really cut loose. cutting loose involved such choices as

leaving strangers in the house unattended for hours, resulting in theft on multiple occasions totalling thousands

physically removing important pieces from the shower (the knobs, mainly) whenever i visit and forgetting where he's hidden them so that no one can shower for days

continuing to refuse housework despite the fact there is one less person in the house now to help out and the house is in a neighbourhood with roaches

smoking in the house (we have a pet)

allowing strangers to smoke meth in the house (once again smoking meth is not a moral failing but to reiterate we do have a pet and she is just Two Inch Large)

turning heaters off and even opening windows in the dead of winter (i cant see this one as anything but an outright attempt to kill the mouse as even he ends up walking around in a coat and hat inside when he does this)

taking my partner's food out of the freezer and leaving it out on the counters all day long to replace it with his own shit (which he will not eat, he eats out every day because he cant cook)

tripling down on the racist shit

... and more!

not only did he do all of these things but at some point he has managed to blame every single one of these actions on me. he literally outright said that he doesn't do housework because i should be coming over and doing it. to be clear I HAVE BEEN STAYING WITH FRIENDS AND RELATIVES FOR THE PAST 6 MONTHS. at this point youre Really thinking "you've kicked him out, right?" and im pleased to report that we have. but the story is still not over because the cockroach refuses to die and the entire house is filled with his shit. (remember his shit from the beginning? yeah.) he has been given a firm date he Has to leave by but until then we're still dealing with this nightmare human (in my opinion, we should have just thrown his shit to the side of the road, but im trying to be Calm Guy lately). he's reacting to being kicked out by throwing a number of temper tantrums each day, making sure his schedule is Unknowable, and insulting everyone around him at every possible opportunity. also, doing all the same shit that everyone has been mad at him for for decades and continuing somehow to blame it on Me.

so, where does this leave us? well, at the moment we are trying to finalize our next steps. we do actually have a bit longer on this lease than we've led him to believe, so we have until the fall to sort this out. to be honest it is much easier and calmer knowing that i dont have to consider this horrible man or his shit this time. as for where he's going to put it all, i don't know and i dont care. if he chooses to leave without taking it and ditch it all on us, in our neighbourhood i promise you it will all last 3 hours max on the roadside.

im annoyed, angry, and frustrated that all of this happened. but moreso than anything i am so fucking pleased to say that i think i am Finally rid of my father in law. praise be to the unknown cyber being.

there is more to this story, more details of provable lies he's told, more offensive obnoxious and downright horrible shit he has said to me and about me as well as to and about others, the kleptomania, the fact that he has been trying to make me act as his secretary in addition to all of this and file government paperwork on his behalf, the fact he has been pretending he once slept with my mother since 1986, the list goes on so far and so deep that i couldnt possibly write it all down here. but, this is the abridged version of my personal nightmare in-law story. if you read it i hope you hate him as much as i do.

[shelfperson]

i definitely make jokes about daniel being a “cokewhore” on occasion but i feel like some of y’all didn’t grok that he was actually for real real prostituting himself for drugs and it’s kind of an import detail about his character that’s been alluded to throughout the show.

idk i’ve just been seeing a lot of posts about daniel’s sexuality lately and like. in addition to Older Queer Male Repression Classic Flavor, it kinda thunks your thinker that the time when Daniel was most sexually involved with men he was also in a really terrible place mentally and physically, and that sexuality was intrinsically related to his drug use and poverty, and now he does not openly acknowledge his obvious hOmOpHiLe status huh?

[strangersteddierthings]

The Conversation

Final Part of The Interview [Part One] [Part Two] [Ao3]

Steve finishes putting on his boots, shoves a beanie on his head, and grabs his thermos of coffee before heading outside. Robin had texted when they left Pendleton so they should be arriving soon, and he wants to make sure the dogs stay clear of the driveway, and also finish some of the chores he is being lazy about. The mountain air is cold in February, and the snow is deep, but it's still warm for a winter day in Eastern Oregon.

His childhood house had been at the edge of a little forest. His current home is tucked away in the woods, trees for miles, and the nearest neighbor farther still than that. He's lived a lot of places, been able to see the whole of America almost, and in the process, he's learned that he'll always be a small-town boy. The real revelation is how at home he feels in this two-bedroom cabin sequestered away from any town at all. Sure, he's got to drive a little over half an hour to get to the nearest grocery store, but he's learned he likes that.

He's got 1600 acres of woods all to himself and the dogs. He's owned this property for almost four years, but recent events made him finally move out here. Originally, he'd bought it to make it as another flip project, but something in his gut told him to make it a vacation home / safe haven for his family instead. Robin, mainly, as a getaway from the LA life and overwhelming spotlight she'd started to face as her music career took off. He might be turning it into his permanent home and base of operations, but everyone knows they're still welcome.

Anyway, the day might be warm for winter, but the night won't be, so Steve sets his thermos on the top of the wooden railing of the porch and heads down the steps to the woodshed. The plan in the summer is to update the cabin, which includes adding central air and a good heating system, but until then, portable heaters are in the bedrooms and the wood stove gets the rest of the cabin. There's also plans to start the construction on the guest house. It's going to be a busy summer.

He replenishes the woodpile on the porch from the woodshed and debates chopping more but decides against it. That can be a tomorrow chore. Next is cleaning up the snow paths he's made previously. Doesn't want anyone falling on their ass on the way to the house, no matter how funny that'll be to watch. As usual, Pancake makes the task difficult because she wants to play with the snow shovel. Melody cries until he throws snow into the air by the shovel full for her to play in. Chowder, old man that he is, supervises from the porch, front paws hanging just off the top step.

It's rough going but he manages to complete the few chores, even with two dogs underfoot.

Steve is on the front porch, forearms holding his weight as he leans against the railing, thermos of coffee between his hands, taking in the afternoon sun and enjoying the silence when Dustin's work truck slides into the driveway. Almost literally, given the foot and a half of snow still on the ground. The driveway is long, okay. Steve's doesn't have enough time in his day to keep up with salting it all.

It'll be strange to see Eddie after all these years. He still can't believe Robin got him to come. When he'd asked how she did it, she brushed him off with an it's not important.

Speaking of Robin, she's the first person out of the truck, sliding out of the passenger seat and then cursing when she drops right into the snow. She shoots an accusatory look towards the cabin, and therefore Steve, like he placed the snow there himself, when the fault is Dustin, who has left the driver side with plenty of room between the truck and the snowbank.

Dustin gets out of the truck and Steve faintly hears him say this side, man, less snow before pushing his door closed and turning to brace himself as Pancake and Melody rush from the porch to circle like sharks, barely restraining themselves from jumping up. Chowder follows after slowly, taking his sweet time getting to Robin, his favorite human. Steve can't even be jealous about that because Robin is his favorite human, too.

The back driver side door opens, and he watches as Eddie Munson all but falls out of the truck. It's the least graceful anyone's looked getting out of the back of the truck and that's counting Chowder and his old man hips. Seeing Eddie again is- well, it's a lot of emotions all at once, but they're are all overshadowed at the moment by how Eddie looks... well, bad. His hair is longer than Steve's ever seen it, a little longer than mid-back length, but it looks like it hasn't seen a proper hair brush in a couple of days. Even from this distance Steve can see the bags under his eyes. He looks like he hasn't slept in days.

He pushes himself off the railing and meanders down the two steps, waiting for them to notice he's waiting. Robin trudges out of the snow berm and to the front of the truck, where Chowder is waiting patiently for his pets and kisses. Dustin has managed to get Melody to stop hopping in front of him so she can get her side scratches, and Pancake has realized there is a new, third person with a set of hands currently not petting her, and is circling Eddie, waiting for him to reach down and pet her but he just stands completely still, heading tracking her in her circles.

"She's friendly, I promise," Steve calls out, which makes Eddie's head snap up to look for the source of the voice. Well, everyone looks, but Eddie looks like he's seeing a ghost, which. Fair. Steve kind of feels the same way.

"Hello, Dingus," Robin calls as she stands from her crouched position, where she's been cuddling Chowder. As soon as she stands, he starts making his way back to the porch. "I have delivered one Edward Keaton Munson. You are not allowed to ask anything of me for, at minimum, a year."

"Steve! Why didn't you tell me you knew the Eddie Munson?" Dustin shouts.

Robin is scoffing, clearly offended. "Am I not famous enough for you Henderson!?"

"Get back to me when you've run a 24-hour Dungeons and Dragons live stream for charity!" Dustin shoots back, then has to dodge Robin's half-hearted punch aimed for his arm.

Eddie stays silent, looking more pale than when he got out of the truck. Steve's a little concerned he's going to faint.

"You been living under a rock, Dustin?" Steve asks. "My knowing him is apparently the only thing on the internet currently."

Dustin puts his whole head into the eye roll. "You spend a month backpacking with your girlfriend in the southern hemisphere and you never get to hear the end of it. I told you I'd catch up on your drama after I catch up on my DnD Live Plays."

"You also missed me winning a Grammy, you know."

"I thought Steve's thing was more important?"

"You are impossible, Henderson."

"You guys going to argue in the snow all afternoon, or do you want to come inside?" Steve says then places his fingers in his mouth and whistles. Melody and Pancake dash for the front door, where Chowder is already waiting. Dustin, Robin, and a still eerily quiet Eddie fall into line to walk the trail to the porch Steve had cleared.

Steve jumps the steps, grabs his thermos, lets the dogs in, and then holds the door for everyone else. Robin and Dustin breeze past, but Eddie slows, eyes jumping around Steve's face as they just look at each other for a moment. Eddie opens, then closes, then opens, then closes his mouth.

"Hi," Steve offers up, shifting a foot to hold the door open so he can wave his fingers at Eddie.

Eddie swallows thickly, then whispers back, "hey."

"In the house, Eddie. Don't want to let too much cold in," Steve tilts his head towards the doorway.

"Oh, right, sorry," that kick starts Eddie again and he crosses the threshold, Steve close behind.

Robin and Dustin are currently occupying the bench just inside the door, taking off their shoes. Once Dustin has his boots off, he leaves the bench, heading to the kitchen. Eddie seems lost, just standing in the entryway, so Steve takes the spot Dustin just left and proceeds to undo the laces on his boots. He gets one boot done by the time Robin stands, wandering after Dustin once she's hung up her coat, scarf, and gloves. Eddie doesn't move still, so Steve pats the empty spot beside him.

"No shoes in the cabin. Dogs track in enough snow, don't need us doing it too," Steve says, then busies himself with his other boot.

He sees Eddie sit and begin to untie his- jesus, he's not even wearing boots. Just a black pair of sneakers. Eddie unties his shoes in silence, sitting rather stiffly next to Steve.

This quiet, obedient Eddie is not what he expected.

"You want something to drink?" Steve asks, once both of them are free of their shoes.

"No, thank you."

"Alright. Have a seat, then," he gestures towards the couch. The cabin door opens up directly into the living area, which Steve has set up as 3/4th a living room and 1/4th dining room, in that a small kitchen table is along the far wall. Beyond that wall is the kitchen, where Robin and Dustin are undoubtedly helping themselves to his coffee or hot chocolate.

Eddie shuffles off to sit on the edge of the couch, as close to the armrest as he can get. Now that Steve can see him closer, he can see he's added more piercing to his face than just the eyebrow ring he wore in high school. Snake bites, a septum piercing, and a second eyebrow ring next to the original. He's sure that if Eddie's hair wasn't covering his ears, he'd see more metal there. Eddie had hung up the coat he'd been wearing but under that is a hoodie he didn't take off, so Steve can only guess if he ever got those tattoos he'd been planning in high school. His entire outfit is black, which just makes him look sickly in the cabin lighting.

Steve drops himself into the chair facing the couch. It's Melody's favorite chair to curl up in, but Steve thinks she'll forgive him for taking it. There's tension in the room, so he tries to break it. "You look like you've seen a ghost, dude."

Eddie makes a weird nose, almost a whimper or a whine, but before he can say anything, Robin rounds the wall, holding a mug of hot liquid and she says, "Oh, I'm sure he feels that he has. I didn't tell me we were coming to see you."

"Robin!" Steve is shocked.

"What? You said you wouldn't mind getting some closure, so I got him here. Does it matter how?" She takes a seat on the opposite end of the couch from Eddie, making a show of how comfortable she is in the space by sitting cross-legged and leaning back against the couch, in comparison to Eddie who is sitting up completely straight, barely on the couch with how close to the edge he's sitting.

"Yeah, it does! If he's not here voluntarily- if Eddie doesn't want to talk to me you can't-"

"I do," Eddie says. It grabs Steve and Robin's attention and Steve sees Eddie almost wilt under their twin stares. He clears his throat before continuing, "I mean, I would have come still, if she'd told me. I do want to talk to you. Apologize for.... for everything. So much I don't even know where to begin, or how."

"Uhh, this feels like something personal," Dustin says from where he's standing with his own mug, hovering nearby. "Should I be here for this?"

Good question. Steve doesn't care if Robin and Dustin hear what they talk about, but Eddie might. "How about we just relax a bit. How was the drive?"

Eddie scrunches his face, a half confused expression on his face.

"Fine," Robin says at the same time Dustin says, "Tense as fuck."

"Those two things don't seem like they match," Steve says.

Dustin moves to plop himself on the couch in between Eddie and Robin, then quietly curses as his drink sloshes over the edge of the mug. He starts mopping at it with the sleeve of his shirt as he says, "Robin is a liar. The tension in the truck is going to linger that's how bad it was. I'll be feeling the tension every time I get in the rig. Clients will feel the tension when I pull up to their curbs!"

"It was not that bad!" Robin swats Dustin. Successfully this time, since there's no way for him to dodge unless he wants to spill his drink again.

Steve just laughs. "Robs, light of my life, mate of my soul, knowing you and your grudges, Dustin's probably going easy on the description of the tension here."

"Well, there wouldn't be tension if I was allowed to say what I want to say."

"Can we go, like, five minutes without your negativity?"

"My negativity!? I'm not negative, I'm rational and level-headed!"

"You are not sounding very level-headed right now."

Dustin chimes in, "Steve's right. Level-headed people don't have to shout that they're level-headed."

"What say you, Eds?" Steve asks, the old nickname slipping out. He doesn't have time to be embarrassed about it though.

Eddie stands quickly and flings his hands in the air, having reached an invisible limit Steve is unaware of, pacing about the living room as he basically shouts, "Why don't you hate me!? You should hate me! I hate me! I can't- why are you just sitting there, trying to have a-a decent conversation with me? You should be screaming at me! You should be mad! Why aren't you? My fuckin' song ruined your life!"

The silence in the living room is heavy following that, all eyes on Eddie. Even the dogs, who had been in various states of sleep, lift their heads and look in Eddie's direction.

He looks mortified by the out burst, and his face turns red. "I-I'm sorry. I- I'm just, I'm sorry. I need air."

They all watch silently as Eddie jams his shoes back on and goes out the front door without tying them or grabbing his coat.

Steve sighs, deep and annoyed. At Robin and himself. He looks to Robin and she looks shocked by Eddie's outburst. She was watching the door, but turns her head to meet Steve's eye, a small frown on her face.

"Well, it's not like he's going far," Dustin says. "You going after him?"

"I don't know if I should."

Dustin scoffs. "Don't be an idiot, of course you should. We drug that guy to the middle of nowhere to talk to you. He agreed to come to the middle of nowhere even though I could have been a hit man hired by Robin to off him in the woods and he didn't even complain. Didn't even question. I don't know what happened, but I think you two need talk it over."

Steve blinks at Dustin. "Since when did you get so wise?"

"I've always been wise. You just refuse to see it with your ageism. Go. Robin can fill me in on the beef, here in the toasty, cozy cabin, while you two chat in the cold, and freeze your asses off."

"I don't have ageism-"

"Wrong argument to be having, Steve!" Dustin interrupts. "And take another cup of coffee with you. Even if he doesn't drink it, dude doesn't have gloves either so y'know, warm the hands."

Steve does just that. Fills his other thermos with coffee, taking a chance by adding cream and sugar, before putting his boots, coat, and beanie back on. He throws Eddie's coat over his arm and tucks both thermos' against his body with that same arm so he can have a free hand to open the door.

Eddie isn't far. He's pacing back and forth in front of the truck, talking to himself.

Taking a deep breath to steel himself, Steve steps off the porch and makes his way to Eddie. "Hey."

The pacing stops and Eddie turns to look at Steve. They just look at each other as Steve approaches. Steve doesn't stop until he's close enough to reach out and touch before he shuffles the two thermos's to his other arm and extends the one with Eddie's coat on it out.

"Thank you," Eddie says, taking the coat and shoving himself into it quickly.

"Brought you coffee, too," Steve holds out one thermos and after a pause, Eddie takes it, too, then almost instantly brings his other hand up to cradle it, warming his fingers.

He looks up from the thermos and meets Steve's eye. "I am sorry, Steve. I'm sorry for how things ended between us, and for the song I wrote, and for-for not thinking about how people would be able to work out that you were the Steve from Hey Steve. You should hate me for that alone. I'm so sorry for everything that's happened because I didn't think of the consequences."

"I don't- I don't hate you man. Not... not anymore. Not for a long time."

"Well, you should!"

Steve frowns. He wants to argue because who is Eddie to tell him how he should feel? But that's not going to help anything. "When Robin called me. During her interview after the Grammy's and asked if she could tell the truth I never- I didn't know what she meant by the truth. But. Well, nothing she said was a lie, but it wasn't the full story."

Eddie stays silent, seemingly waiting for Steve to continue.

"Those first two years after our breakup were- I'm not going to lie, they were fucking awful. I think I received my first bit of hate mail the very same day Hey Steve released. It was harsh. All from the same person, but sent to my Facebook and my Twitter and Instagram. Guess they really wanted me to read it.

"And then, with each passing day, a new person, new message, just as awful. After three days I deleted Instagram and Twitter. Then I locked down Facebook but like- physical letters showed up at my house. I can't lie, it certainly felt like you'd ruined my life."

Eddie makes a wounded sound at that. "That's because I did! What I did was unforgivable and-"

"You don't get to decide for me if I forgive you or not!" Steve snaps. "I haven't actually said I did forgive you, did I? All I've said is I don't hate you."

That gets Eddie quiet again for a moment, then he says, "you ended up hospitalized because of me."

"Robin said I ended up hospitalized, and that's true, but it wasn't- It was more complicated that just being your, and your fans', fault. For people who were supposedly on 'your side' of our breakup, they used a lot of homophobic language. That's how my mom found out. The letters were easy enough to just get rid of because all the bad shit was on the inside, but someone sent a post card, and mom collected the mail that day. It's... I don't like talking about this."

"Then don't," Eddie is quick to say, "you don't have to explain anything to me, or make yourself relive these events. It's- you don't owe that to me."

"I think I need to. I wrote you a song, said I'd do it all again, and I meant that. I want you to understand why. Just. Just give me a minute."

Eddie nods and takes a sip of his coffee. He looks pleasantly surprised and takes bigger drink before his face falls into a frown as he stares down at the thermos and Steve has to look away. He turns and squeezes his eyes shut to continue. "Mom showed the postcard to my father, and he confronted me that evening. It was.... it didn't start off bad. He asked if it was true. That I was gay. I made a choice, then. I didn't have to; I could have lied. I could have told him I was straight and that I didn't understand what the postcard was saying, but I didn't.

"I knew how he felt about queer people, and I told him the truth anyway. I was bisexual. I thought it was a miracle that he didn't kick me out instantly. Instead, he calmly asked me if that meant I liked woman. I said it meant I liked more than just woman.

"Then he told me that didn't matter. That so long as I liked woman, I would be with a woman, and that we never had to speak of this again. And I told him no. He didn't get to decide that for me. He said that he would rather have a dead son than a faggot one. And I thought- I never- surely he was just meaning, like, metaphorically, right? Like, he'd disown me, kick me out or something so I scoffed and said- God, I was so stupid. I knew it wasn't safe, but I was so angry at him, I shouted 'dead or alive, I'm your faggot son so deal with it.' And he- he said 'dead it is' and he attacked me."

He hears Eddie suck in a breath, hears the crunch of snow in what could only be Eddie taking a step towards him but stopping after just one step. Steve doesn't know if he wants Eddie to close the distance and give him the hug he knows Eddie wants to do. Steve doesn't know if he'd welcome the embrace or not. He sucks in his own shaky breath, and continues, "He almost beat me to death that night. The only reason he didn't was because mom dialed 911," Steve turns around, looks at Eddie and sees the tears falling down his own face reflected on Eddie. "As far as I know, dad's still serving time for his attempted murder, so like, at least I don't have to worry about him. And mom... I don't even know what to think of that.

"She called 911, didn't want to see me die, I guess, but also couldn't have a gay son. She sold the house, and everything in it, while I was still in the hospital, and just... disappeared. Robin's family took me in. She told that story during the interview, you knoe, but I wasn't even at the house when that guy with the gun showed up. I was meeting with a lawyer.

"She-Mom was- I don't know what she was trying to do but she gave me the family business. The whole company! It felt like she was trying to buy my forgiveness, except she didn't ask for it and still hasn't contacted me. It's like... she felt guilty about what happened but hated me at the same time. Felt she needed to do something to alleviate her guilt? Or maybe she just wanted to cut herself free of the whole Harrington name; free herself from me and my father. I don't think I'll ever get closure for that one."

Steve quits talking, needs to take another moment. He'd already rambled on about more than he meant to but talking to Eddie had always done that to him. Afterall, before they dated, they'd been friends. He sips at his coffee, not knowing what else to say.

"Jesus, Stevie, I'm so sorry. I didn't know- It's no excuse but I'm just so sorry."

He doesn't think Eddie knows he called him Stevie, but it's nice to hear. "So, see, it wasn't your fault. Your song set things into motion, for sure, so it's nice to hear an apology, but like, if anyone is the bad guy in this situation, it's Richard Harrington."

"But Robin said she just had to help you move to here. That you still get hate mail, and doxxed. That's on me. I saw your list of addresses, Steve! You've had to move, like, eight times a year!"

Steve can't help the cackle that springs from him. He surprises himself with the laugh, and Eddie, too, if his wide eyes and eyebrows hidden behind his bangs are any indication. "I- yeah, I move a lot. And yes, this most recent move was because of a brick with Hey Steve scratched into it broke my living room window, but like, I've only had to move because of harassment like, four times, if I'm counting the whole mom-selling-the-house thing."

"What?"

Steve holds up a finger, adding a new one as he counts them out. "Mom sold house. Scary gun guy at Robin's. The year anniversary of your first album's release. I was still in Hawkins, figuring out what to do with all the money I'd, uhh, inherited I guess, so I was easy to find. And the most recent one. Not sure what inspired it this time. Usually, the hate mail resurges when you go on tour, but it's less and less every time. Anyway, none of those other moves are because of crazy fans."

Eddie blinks at him, a picture of confusion. "But I found a YouTube video and that guy- he showed all your old addresses. He said- I thought..."

"Well, there are a lot of addresses. But not because of your fans. I move for my job. Do you... did you even read the truck?" Steve gestures to Dustin's truck and Eddie steps around to see the printed H&H Project Flip and below that is their website.

Eddie looks back to Steve like that answers nothing. Which, fair, but it would answer a lot of questions if Eddie had looked up the website. "After that surge of anniversary hate, I knew I needed to get out of Hawkins. Robin was graduated, then, and headed to college. I decided I wanted to see more than just Hawkins. I followed Robin to college in Chicago, and uh, bought a house. A real fixer upper but that was fine. I had plenty of money to throw into it. On a whim I thought, what if I try to fix it. I had a lot of free time and if it ended up badly, I could afford to pay a professional to fix whatever I broke. I found that I loved doing that."

He's still just being looked at like he's not making sense.

Steve rolls his eyes, "I flip houses, dude. Me and Dustin. Harrington and Henderson Project Flip. I was in Chicago for three years, lots of addresses for that city. But then Robin pointed out there were a lot of states. That I should see all 50 of 'em by renovating a house in each. She'd moved in with her then-girlfriend by this time, so she said I should go. See the States at the least. So, I did. I find it easier to just live in the house I'm renovating, so I'm not paying mortgage and then rent somewhere else in the same city."

Eddie looks like he's had a rug pulled out from under him and he lets out a laugh that's a little hysterical.

"And moving so much has allowed me to meet so many amazing people, y'know? I got friends in all the states. So, like, yeah, you did ruin my life, but like, just my life from 18 to 20. So, yeah, I'd do it all again. Did you think I've been living in perpetual misery for the last ten years?"

"Robin certainly made it easy to assume that, so yeah!"

"I think she did that on purpose. To hurt you back."

"I deserve it," Eddie says. "I didn't even try to check in on you. Well, once, but when I couldn't find you on any socials I just. Gave up."

Steve shrugs. "I didn't reach out either. And if you'll remember, I broke up with you. Screamed in your face that we were over and went home."

"I don't know when, or even if, Corroded Coffin will tour again, but I swear to you, we'll never play or release Hey Steve again. And I'll release a statement, or go on camera, or something, and address this. I can't make it right, but I can make a change starting now, to do better and be better," Eddie says this while gripping his thermos to death.

"I believe you, and I forgive you."

Eddie nods grimly, then looks from Steve to the cabin, and back to Steve. "Do you think Robin will ever forgive me?"

"I don't know. You hurt her pretty badly, too. We were all best friends in school and when we broke up, you cut off Robin, too. And then, when she started to gain her own fame- I think when she first moved to LA, she thought you'd try to reach out. But you never did."

A silence falls over them, and Steve refuses to break it. He's done enough talking. They drink their coffees 'til they're empty before Eddie speaks.

"Where does this leave us?"

Steve thinks about it before answering. "You were my best friend before you were my boyfriend. You'd been in my life longer than you've been out of it. We don't have to be anything. We can have our closure and go our separate ways, if you'd prefer. But, I think I'd like another chance at being your friend."

"I can do friend," Eddie says slowly, like he's picking his words carefully. "I can. But, full transparency, I think I still love you."

It hurts to hear, after all the pain and the time, and it's a bittersweet kind of hurt. "I'll always love you, Eds. I meant it, you know, every word of the song. But I don't know if we can, or should, try again. We were so good until we weren't."

Tears spring from Eddie's eyes when Steve says he loves him, and they don't stop falling even as he's nodding along with everything Steve says. "No, I know. I know. I just, I needed you to know. Friend is, it's so fucking great. More than I ever expected, and certainly more than I dared hope."

"Come on. Let's go inside where it's warm and chat with Dustin and Robin like civilized people. I need a break from the heavy talk."

"Yeah. Me too. Thank you, Steve. For the chance."

Steve shrugs and shoots him a crooked grin. "Yeah, well, ruin this a second time and Robin will rip you to shreds on live TV, probably."

There's more to talk about. More hurts to heal and things to discuss, Steve knows. And maybe after all the talking, they'll learn they've changed too much to even be friends. But that'll be okay, because if that's how it goes, it'll be because they talked it out instead of screaming at each other in a living room.

If they've changed too much, this time, it'll end gently.

It doesn't stop Steve from letting a little bit of hope in. That this won't end, that they can find a way to be in each other's lives again.

As friends, or more.

[s0fter-sin]

it’s the sound that tips him off.

it’s late, half-past hell by his last count, and mactavish knows there shouldn’t be a single soul in the showers this time of night. though he’s sure if he asked, he’d be told a soul isn’t in there.

just a ghost.

he almost chokes on the thick steam filling the locker room; humid and hazy and the perfect cover. or it would be, if the man collapsed in the far stall cared about hiding.

mactavish hates himself a little for the low sigh that falls from his lips. he wishes he wasn't so disappointed; that the promises he's heard over and over and watched be broken as many times hadn't wedged their way into his heart and convinced him that maybe, maybe this could be the time it sticks.

he doesn't know what's worse; the disappointment or the lack of surprise.

he holds his breath through the steam and leans over the limp body; stinging hot water hitting his back, instantly soaking through his clothes and already starting to burn. he flicks the tap enough to take the bulk of the heat out and straightens; a groan startling out of the man beneath him at the sudden lash of tepid water.

mactavish crouches, knees clicking and hooks a hand under his bicep to pull him up straight against the wall. if there was any vomit on his skin, it's been washed away by the pelting stream and he supposes he can count himself lucky for that. he tilts his limp head back and slips his fingers into his mouth; holding down his tongue and ignores the way it lazily jolts under his fingers to check his airway.

clear.

another small victory.

mactavish pulls his fingers out and cups his chin, keeping him tilted up and moves in the way of the water again so he can pull at his eyelid.

the eye he's met with is cloudy, so dilated there's hardly a ring of blue left.

he sighs again; hand falling away and letting his eye fall shut. "god damnit, riley."

riley moans, all his weight resting on the hand holding his jaw.

"aye, 'm talking ‘bout you," he grunts tiredly.

he lets riley's head fall forward to grab his arm, pulling him away from the wall to sit behind him; propping his body up against his chest. he leans his head back over his shoulder, keeping his face out of the water and his airway open just in case he hasn't actually finished throwing up.

he takes the rag riley'd half-managed to soap up and mechanically runs it over him; cataloguing new bruises and cuts and checking if the old ones are healing. sickly yellow fingerprints ring his hips, red splotches paint his ribs; too new to have settled into the deep purple he knows they’ll become.

riley slowly makes more noise as he rubs life into his body; still lying limp against his front but his head's starting to roll restlessly on his shoulder. he swipes between his legs and carefully doesn't think a single thing about what he finds.

"sean?" he rasps and mactavish's hand stills; eyes falling shut. he bites his check, hand clenching around the rag tight enough to shake and breathes hard out his nose.

he doesn't say a word, just forces himself to go back to cleaning.

he's not sure what would come out of his mouth if he did.

riley isn't conscious enough to hear him anyway.

he runs his fingers over his inner elbows for tracks and manages to muster some relief when he doesn't find any. seems to be a pill and booze night; far from the worst condition he's found him in.

he rinses him off, running a curtesy hand over his shaved head only for it to fall back to his jaw; his thumb stroking over the thick scar carved into his cheek.

"you gotta stop doin' this," he whispers.

he isn’t sure if he’s talking to riley or himself.

mactavish gathers up riley's too-light body into his arms and turns off the shower. his head lolls into his throat and he throws a towel over his dripping body and another over his shoulder. it doesn't stop him from tracking water all the way to his quarters but he'd like to see someone try to put in a complaint about it.

he lays out the other towel on the bed and sets riley down; moving his body into the recovery position in an all-too familiar routine. he dries him enough that he won't soak the covers as he pulls them up to his chest and kicks the waste bin within grabbing distance of the bed.

he goes to pull off his sodden clothes when a different noise makes him freeze.

a low sniffle.

mactavish slowly turns back to the bed to find riley's eyes squinting open; glazed with tears as he kneads at the covers.

he stares at him for a moment as he looks around the room and those hazy eyes lock on him for the first time. "cap'n?"

he swallows. "aye; s'just me, riley."

his hand pokes out from under the covers and for all the promises he's made himself - all the “never again”s and “this is the last time”s - at the end of the day, he's weak.

he sits on the side of the bed and takes riley's hand in his; already so cold after nearly boiling himself alive.

"y' mad a' me?" he sniffs.

mactavish runs his tongue over his lip and slowly shakes his head. "no, i'm not mad at you."

"prom'se?" he pushes.

he reaches out and caresses his temple with his thumb. his hand almost covers his head and it cuts like a knife to remember just how small riley is. "aye," he says, hushed. "i promise."

riley's eyes fall shut, voicelessly murmuring 'promise’ to himself over and over.

"I’ll ge’ bett'r," he slurs and between one breath and the next, he's out.

mactavish sighs, running his hand in a final pass over his head and stares at a face that looks so much younger in sleep; bruised and sallow skin hidden in the shadows. "i know you will."

he presses a slow kiss to his forehead, shutting his eyes against the grief that wells in his heart and gets up to pull a chair over to the bed; settling in for another long night's vigil of watching his broken lieutenant sleep, ready to tilt him over if he throws up, eyes locked on the slow rise and fall of his chest fearing tonight may finally be the time it stops.

[us-the-voices-and-more-voices-2]

a quick reminder to everyone

I have SEVERE LEARNING DISABILITIES

I am literally disabled because of my learning disabilities, I have faced literal descrimnation because of it.

everytime you call us retarded or a retard you are ACTIVLY upholding the systems in which I am trapped in.

I take more offence in being called a retard than anything due to the literal DECADES of systematic abuse and descrimnation from the medical system, every single government resource, and almost all school alternatives.

fuck you greatly if you use these words against us, I have to live in a country where they hate people like me and would rather us dead than to do literally anything to help people like us.

call us what you will, but I will never call anyone retarded because it’s a basic decency reserved for everyone.

I’m a very happy retard, fuck your ableism!

I will happily live and love and learn even if THE LITERAL GOVERNMENT doesn’t want me too.

(yeah being a mid supports autistic with other learning disabilities and disabilities in general that made me unable to attend a school just means I deserve to die. 100% legit I deal with this literally all the time always fuck the Australian government)

so again fuck you all greatly, for using a literal slur against me one that has been used against me since I was a baby.

fuck you all, genuinely.

did I forfeit my rights to be treated as a human being the moment I had a bit of trouble learning things? Because if I did I’d like to break someone’s teeth with a brick.

Edit: the language and lines between what the fuck developmental disabilities and intellectual disability are is confusing as fuck.

I have gotten very confused between the 2 because they are grouped together half the time.

My apologies to everyone for being utterly confused where I fall because it is extremely confusing to figure out, and internationally it varies wildly according to my brief reading.

I did not mean to be mean or anything I just was genuinely going off what I’ve been told most my life lol.

Shout out to my developmentally disabled brethren you are loved

[melonthesprigatito]

Look, I'm not interested in playing Palworld and I've been actively avoiding the drama/controversy so I'd be perfectly happy with forgetting it's existence and moving on with my life if it weren't for just how obsessively UNHINGED the Palworld fandom is, barging in on EVERY. SINGLE. recent Pokémon post on multiple platforms just to pick fights and shill the hell out of their game to (most of the time) confused Pokémon fans who are wondering what Palworld is and where these people came from.

I saw this wonderful art of the Kamado battle in Legends Arceus and the Champion battle in Sun and Moon on Instagram and I shit you not, a good 70% of the comments are entirely Palworld people just ranting and yelling about how Pokémon sucks, Palworld is going to kill Pokémon, anybody who likes Pokémon is a bootlicker and are riding Pokémon's 🍆, how anyone who complains about Palworld is a (and I quote) """"saviourf*g""" for Nintendo etc

Like, I just wanted to share my nostalgia about Sun and Moon and so did a lot of other people considering that there were still people talking about it, but it was hard to find those comments because they were drowned out by the Pals Vs Pokémon warzone.

And the second someone says something a Pal fan doesn't like, it eventually devolves into the Pal fans throwing homophobic slurs around and calling the Pokémon fans neckbeards, and shills and basement dwellers and such.

I'm sure there's probably sane fans who are just happy going about and making their Pals break rocks or whatever, but a majority of the Palworld fans I've encountered so far are like edgy screaming 4Chan people. Like, holy shit I wish they would just go to their own Palworld fan pages instead of invading Pokémon and turning every comment section into the embodiment of this meme.

(And I just want to address the whole "Pokémon Company is posting a lot more often recently because they're obviously scared of Palworld, lmaoooo why else would they suddenly start actively posting after months of radio silence 😎" argument that I've seen dozens of times.

First of all, the Pokémon channel/profile is always posting random game/anime/art screenshots. There hasn't been a sudden drastic increase of posts.

Second of all, it's A MONTH UNTIL POKÉMON DAY. THEY DO THIS EVERY YEAR. The influx of Snorlax posts is a promotional thing for Pokémon Sleep. Pokémon's just carrying on with their regularly scheduled hype building/ promotional stuff and the Palworld fans think it has something to do with them.(

[chroniccoolness]

in general it's amazing how I can make a post going "don't be homophobic" and multiple people will go "but what if--" like. stop. I don't care about your friend group where they all call each other faggots. my friend group does that too. I am talking about calling random fucking strangers on the internet or people you know who haven't consented or characters you could call a thousand other things slurs, insults, and other derogatory terms because you think it's FUNNY. or worse, because you genuinely do see fruity or twink or bottom or faggot as a genuine insult targeted as something to be ashamed of but like in a #woke way somehow.

look inward and reflect on why you think insulting someone by calling them gay is funny, genuinely. internalized homophobia is real and if you externalize it you are fully capable of harming others, regardless of your own identity. and if you didn't know what those words meant.... uh. we all exist in different contexts, that is okay, but for the love of God please learn what a word means before you go around insulting everyone with it.

[ophanim-vesper]

Personally always hated the 'mouthbreather' insult. Having a cleft lip and palate meant my upper respiratory system makes it harder to breathe through my nose. My nasal passage is literally distorted and sometimes I can't even breathe at night while lying down, because my mouth instinctively closes while my nose is completely blocked. So, I had to resort to mouthbreathing, and that has been belittled and ridiculed and associated with being 'retarded' or generally stupid. Being born with a physical defect that literally makes it harder to breathe through your nose shouldn't be an insult. Having a chronic illness that makes it harder to breathe shouldn't be an insult. Needing to have a less socially accepted adaptation in order to LIVE shouldn't be an insult. Thank you for coming to my TEDTalk.

[green-mountain-goose]

.

[nullbutler]

[br1ghtestlight]

it really does suck that the r slur is gaining so much popularity on all sides especially on twitter (but no surprise there) Everybody uses it now and it wasn't socially acceptable in culture even a few years ago. just hateful pieces of shit & its so hurtful to ppl affected. even leftists don't give a fuck abt using it

[mimir97477906]

Retard

BABY GOT HIS FIRST ANONYMOUS HATEMAIL YAYYY

[cutemeat]

i need Sunny’s women like i need blood in my veins

[blinday]

Just a lil explanation for whoever got what I said wrong. Also, I forgot to add yesterday in the ask: I see it as "worse" because it's a regression. It's like stopping a battle for equity to push down one of the sides. Both start sinking instead of going up.

Op also called me retarded and is a terf, so. Lovely 🥰 aint it? Bet she cannot fathom that I'm a catholic and middle wing Brazilian.

[ya-what--ya-erster]

Hey can we stop being assholes please

TW: implied slurs, suicidal thoughts, SA (sort of?)

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you aren't cool when you use racial slurs or homophobic slurs or any other slurs and you aren't cool when you make fun of people who have mental health problems or disabilities (physical or mental)

"Did you see the (Yes, the n-word im sorry) over there?" Go back to the, like, 1800s please. Racism is not cool. Don't say that word.

"Nobody likes you, you (f-slur, sorry again)." Do you realize how much it hurts when us queer folk hear that? And we hear it a lot. So please don't. We don't need the whole world to hate us. It isn't hard to just be kind.

"Oh, your name is Austin? More like autistic" Okay NOT AN OKAY INSULT. Literally stfu. Autism is not something you should be repulsed by. It's not something you should use as an insult. Autistic people are people just like you.

"People who have anxiety/depression are such weirdos." Yeah thanks, I heard you, now I want to die even more thanks so much. I will gladly off myself so you dont have to deal with such a "weirdo."You've confirmed that nobody wants me here and that people think badly of me. I really appreciate it.

"We should dress up as special Ed kids for halloween cuz then we can pretend to be stupid freaks!" Do you even realize you're talking about another human being. Actually, do you? I'm not sure you do. Be nicer.

All of the above is things I've heard, occasionally they're directed at me. I haven't heard anything much on the next example so bear with me.

Don't do the thing where you call the girl a whore and slut shame her and then pat the guy on the back cuz he got laid. Just, no. Don't make the girl feel like she's done something wrong, then tell the guy good job. STAWP.

Next thing, recent experience, sorry if you're the ppl who have already heard me be pissed about it.

Respect privacy. Respect boundaries. When the person in front of you in line for lunch keeps moving away from you, you're too close, back up. Don't touch their ass. Don't stand so close that you can feel them shaking with fear. And don't try to pull the same thing twice. (btw, i told him off yesterday and it felt very nice).

BASICALLY MORAL OF THE STORY STOP BEING ASSHATS AND THE WORLD MIGHT BE A BETTER PLACE

[wetvett]

// r slur + kys mention

oh my god first time ive been told to kill myself and got called a slur over a completely harmless kink ! yayy first for everything

made me giggle tbh thank you for giving me a laugh