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#boy did that hurt!
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the orv experience of going "haha why is kim dokja like this /lh" to "why is kim dokja like this (concerned and frustrated)" to "oh my god this is why kim dokja is like this"
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sp0o0kylights · 26 days
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Wayne takes in a Beat to Shit Steve Harrington after Starcourt as n Owed Favor to Hopper Part 4
Part Three: link
First Chapter (parts 1-3 on tumblr) on A03: Link
The kid was madder than a wet hen.
Just as slippery as one too, when he got like this--music pulsing like a living thing to signal all his rage and upset. 
Not like Wayne hadn’t expected it. 
He just wished it wasn’t quite so damn loud. 
The music had started up almost immediately after Eddie had stormed to his room, startling Steve awake and nearly making Wayne curse for it.
Normally it was a good thing--music meant Eds was willing to listen instead of heading for the hills.  
Normally, they didn't have a house guest who looked like he'd gone ten rounds with a bear.
They had a routine for this, was the thing and the music was a key part of it. It worked all the edges off for Wayne, and he'd long figured out that about thirty minutes was a the perfect length of time for Eddie to stew before he could actually talk things through.
Given the hand Harrington put to his forehead, Wayne wasn't eager to give him that thirty minutes.
Not when Steve deserved little peace he could have.
Unfortunately, so did Eds. 
Still.
 Strutting through the door and demanding to talk right now was a bad move and so, with a sympathetic look given to Steve, Wayne did what he did best
Gave space.
Let Eddie rage, as Wayne got up and shuffled about the kitchen.
Pulled out the soft earplugs he pretended weren’t there for Eds to steal (playing that damn loud guitar all the time could not be good for his ears) and offered them to Steve, before making two cups of what Wayne privately thought was the Munson “chitchat” drink. 
One cup of hot water, one packet swiss miss, a small amount of maple syrup drizzled in, topped with little marshmallows they reserved for these types of situations. 
Wayne took his time with it, thinking through what he wanted to say. 
‘I understand that this is a screen door on a submarine kind of situation...’ 
Nope. 
‘Son I know you hate listening to anyone for anything but this is serious...’ 
Absolutely not--that would end up with the boy bolting for sure. 
‘Ed’s, I love you but could we please turn Ozzy off while we talk? That man wails louder than any damn cat I have ever met.’
That one was purely self indulgent, mostly because the wall was starting to shake. 
Wayne put the finishing touches on the cocoa before staring at both of them. 
Perhaps if he stared the Garfield mug in its eyes hard enough, the right words would come through. 
They did not.
He kept trying, standing there long enough for the cocoa to reasonably have cooled and for Eddie’s song to flip over to something with more screaming in it than singing. 
Wayne supposed that this was the hardest part of being a parent. You just didn’t get to have the magical one liner. The right thing to say at just the right time.  
The joke that would ease all the tension and let things progress forward nice and easy.
Instead, you got to fumble your way through the dark with a flashlight up your ass and hope you were going in the right-ish direction. Ideally without making things worse. 
Wayne was here though, and that had to count for something. 
(Knew it counted for something--because Eddie was still here. 
They had cleared hurdles far higher than this when it came to trust. They’d get through this too, come what may. 
Steve too.)
“Can I just ask,” Eddie started, aggressive as always when Wayne finally gave in and entered his room, feeling all sorts of awful for the migraine Steve had to have, “what the absolute fuck is happening?” 
Sure as fire he was sitting on his bed, leg bouncing a mile a minute.
An unlit cigarette hung between two fingers, looking a little chewed on, but otherwise undisturbed--as it should be, because one of Wayne’s few rules was that smoke stayed outside the house. 
“You could.” Wayne said loudly but agreeably, as he turned himself around and dropped down next to his kid.  
Held out the Garfield mug, and was happy when it was taken from him. 
“Figured you might have other things to say, though.” 
Likely a lot of things. 
It was as good an opening as any, and his kid didn’t disappoint, launching right to it. 
“Why is he here and not at a hospital?”
 ‘Here’ was punctuated by Ed’s hand winging towards the door, and while it wasn’t the righteous fury Wayne expected, it was at least, an easy answer to give. 
“Steve has some people looking for him. Bad people. Hospital makes him an easy target.” 
Wayne was still talking loud. Could only hear Eddie himself because he was looking at the kid’s lips more than he was actually hearing his voice. 
Eddie took that in, swallowing it about as well as he’d swallowed anything he hadn’t liked. 
And thank the stars above, he finally reached a hand out and turned the music down. Not a lot--Steve wouldn’t be able to hear them over all this--but enough that Wayne didn’t have to struggle. 
“We’re hiding him from the cops now?!” Ed’s spat. 
“Cops know he’s here. Hopper’s the one who asked me to take him.” Wayne reminded him, because it was the truth. 
Not the full truth, but given how Ed’s pissed off half the local PD on a good day, Wayne absolutely did not want to see his nephew take on Federal Agents.
(Particularly not the kind who were going ‘round killing kids.) 
“So--what?” Eddie yanked hard on his hair, a gesture that looked less intentional and more like he was trying to fight his own anger down. “Hopper just called you up and said ‘Hey, we had a whoopsie with the rich kid, the hospital’s not safe anymore. Can we stash him with you for a few days?” 
Wayne nodded once, slow-like. 
Always remembered how too fast movements had made Eddie flinch and jerk back when was littler, and given the way Steve was looking, figured it was a good time to be cautious again. 
“He did.”
“And you just--agreed? Just like that!?” 
“I did.” 
He pretended not to see Eddie boggle at him at the simple admission, so furious that he seemed to struggle for words when he normally had too many to say. 
Wayne took advantage. 
“We did talk a bit more than that, I’ll admit.”
Ed’s scoffed. “About the weather I’m sure.” 
“‘Bout trust.” 
Eddie blinked at that. 
“Trust.” He echoed flatly. 
“What have I always told you? People like to ask you to trust them, but you they don’t get to have it until--” 
“They provide proof or a reason.” Eddie finished with an eyeroll. “So which did Hopper provide then?”
Wayne took a noisy sip of his coca. Smacked his lips a little before saying: “Both.” 
Didn’t bother to say anything else, because he knew Eddie would finish the thought for him. 
“One of them was me, wasn’t it.” 
Eds didn’t say it like a question, but Wayne hummed in agreement anyway. 
He wasn’t gonna shame his boy, but he wasn’t gonna sugar coat Eddie’s involvement in this either. Not when he’d already admitted that was half the reason Hopper had gone to Wayne to begin with. 
“No one is expecting Steve to be here.” He said, seeing the chance to hammer home the most important part of this entire shitshow. “So long as no one finds out he’s here, he’ll be safe. Everyone will be safe.” 
Steve from the Feds who were hunting him for while he was busy being involved in shit he couldn’t control and Eddie because he had a mouth that most people didn’t like. 
Not small town people anyway, and absolutely not authority figures with guns. 
“Who’s even after him?” Eddie was theatrical as always, hands waving away as he talked. “Did he make a deal with the mob? Piss off some other rich guy? I know it’s not anything drug related, I’d have heard about it by now.” 
After years of experience, Wayne knew exactly how far to lean away to stay out of range, too used to his nephew talking with his entire body.
“That’s his story to tell ya, Ed’s. It ain’t mine. Same way it ain’t my place to tell him your story.” 
That at least got the boy to think for a minute. Put down that frustration he carried with him all the time, and use the brain they both knew he had. 
“How long is he staying here?”
Wayne shrugged. “Don’t know.” 
Eddie sighed and mockingly mimicked Wayne, taking an obnoxious slurp of his cocoa. “The neighbors are going to notice if he’s here more than a few days. The trailer park isn’t exactly big.” 
“They didn’t notice that time you decided to make fireballs with the cooking spray and about blew up half the driveway. Don’t think they’re gonna notice someone being quiet in the house.” 
Eddie snorted, and probably rolled his eyes again, not that Wayne could see it given the kid was looking into his own mug as he thought it all through. 
Wayne sat with him as he processed. 
Eds worked at his own pace with things, and while life at large might be against that, Wayne was happy to let him do it. Found it easier that way, then trying to poke and prod and force him like so many father figures did. 
Wayne’s patience was rewarded not even a full minute later, when Eddie turned to him and asked; 
“What if he finds out?”  
This in a quieter voice. An unsure one--words and body hunching in a way unlike the Eddie the world outside knew, but very much like the little boy Wayne had brought inside his home. 
It took Wayne  a moment to connect the dots--he’d been speaking out of the place parents and authority figures often do, and in doing so hadn’t thought much of the fact his nephew had a real secret. 
The kind small town minds didn’t like--and would kill him over. 
This all wasn’t about Wayne taking in Steve, he realized abruptly.  It was that Steve being here meant Eddie couldn’t be himself. 
Could not relax in a place he was accepted for who he was, because Wayne knew and made sure Eddie understood he was wanted here, had a place here, regardless of who he loved. 
Now, Wayne had gone and removed it.
‘Shit.’ 
“He won’t.” Wayne said. 
Knew that wasn’t enough, and so, promised: “But if he does, I’ll make sure he understands his safety here relies on your own.” 
Ed’s chin jerked in a nod, the two of them sitting in silence for a moment before the boy did as he often did when he wanted a hug but felt too awkward to ask for one, and tipped himself into Wayne’s side. 
“Thanks old man.” Eddie whispered into his shoulder and not for the first time, Wayne wished things were easier for the poor kid as he put his mug in one hand and hugged his kid with the other. 
Hoped that in the future, it would be.
Even if he had to force everyone and everything coming after him--and now Steve--to do it.
(Wondered vaguely, how bad it was that he was already getting as protective as Steve as he was of his own kid.
Probably very, given his kid clearly hated Harrington.)
xXx
Wayne took the first night of Steve’s stay off.
He wasn’t the type to use his PTO lightly. Was used to rationing it for any possible thing Eddie might need him for.
A night up sick when he was younger, to a night spent chasing him down during some of their bad spots--but the last year or so Wayne had slowly realized he hadn’t had to use it much.
He was still careful with it though, precious as it was, and was thankful for it now as it ensured his nephew didn’t murder their house guest. 
Or at the very least, didn't sit there pecking at him.
The kid might've failed English a few times, but he had a real gift with words and an even better one with insults.
(Wayne wasn't quite clear on what all the "King" jabs were about, and absolutely did not get why Steve looked far more hurt at the comment about his "sad ass floppy hair" but given the increasingly flat look Steve was throwing Eddie's way, Wayne figured it couldn't be anything good.)
Thankfully a pointed reminder about Steve's injuries had finally gotten them all some peace, enough for Harrington to drop back to sleep--and for Wayne to realize he looked a little too dead while he did it to be comfortable getting any sleep himself.
The kids chest barely moved, and that it ate at Wayne’s until he got up and shoved a hand under his nose. 
Felt his breath, and told himself the poor sod was fine. 
Hurt, absolutely, but alive. 
Over and over again, until the sun had made its rotation in the sky, bringing the morning with it.
‘Better than nightmares, I suppose.’ Wayne figured, as exhaustion scraped at his eyelids.
Those Wayne knew, would come later. When Steve’s brain caught up to the rest of him, and stopping dumping survival chemicals through his battered body. 
He'd given up on sleep entirely sometime around 1 am, and now he sat at his small kitchen table, writing out a medication schedule for Harrington so he and the kid both knew when he could have his next Tylenol. 
Wasn’t even halfway through it before Eddie made his typically late appearance and blew through his door. 
Had his back up from the moment he’d stepped a foot in the kitchen and it didn’t take a genius to see he’d worked himself into a snit again.
Unfortunately for him, whatever scenario that imaginative brain of his had cooked up fell flat to the reality that was the poor kid on the couch. 
Steve Harrington was one a hell of a sight.
Didn’t help that he was doing his level best to make himself as small as possible, curled deep into Wayne's ancient couch.
The blankets covered the ribs and hid away most of the damage, but there wasn’t much Steve could do to hide the shiners on his face--or the marks around his neck.  
Not when they’d grown worse overnight, practically inviting questions.
It was almost laughable how quickly Eddie ate whatever words he’d prepared, mouth awkwardly chewing around them as if they were tangible. 
The less-than-sneaky looks he threw at the younger teen were equally amusing, and if Wayne wasn’t trying to peace keep, he’d have given in and chuckled when Eds split attention caused him to pour half his coffee into the sink rather than a cup. 
Looked utterly lost when, after finishing putting his coffee together and grabbing some junk food thing that absolutely was not a breakfast item, he came to stand awkwardly at Wayne's shoulder, openly staring as Steve blatantly ignored him.
Eds didn’t know what to do, and Wayne couldn't blame him. 
Seemed to keep thinking he was going to encounter a boy that likely no longer existed, and whose blood tinged specter just made things sad.
Shit like this, Wayne knew, took a man’s ego and warped it, shaping it to something else entirely. 
At least for Steve, it seemed that getting wrapped up in whatever mess he had had shaped him for the better, instead of pretzeling him into something worse. That, Wayne thought, spoke to the boy's character more than anything he’d done prior. 
(It helped to know what Hopper tolerated and what he didn’t. That he’d vouched for Steve in the same way Wayne knew he’d vouched for Eddie, even if Eddie didn’t yet realize the cop he antagonized so much would do that for him.) 
That didn't erase the history his kid had with Harrington, though.
Wouldn't stop him from seeing the old Steve, first.
‘Don’t you got school?” Wayne asked when he decided Ed had stared enough. 
“Yeah, yeah.” Eddie waved him off, trotting out the door. “Bye old man, house parasite!” 
It was clearly a jab, meant to nettle, but Steve barely acted like he heard it. 
Wayne rolled his eyes. 
“Goodbye, Eds.” He said firmly, much of a warning as he ever gave, and fondly watched his nephew scuttle out the door. 
Turned to see how Steve was taking things, and was once again given a reminder that Steve wasn’t doing a hell of a lot other than feeling his injuries. 
“I think I promised you a game, son.”  Wayne said gently, startling Steve out of the distant, dim look he had trained on the wall. 
It wasn’t a lot to offer in terms of a distraction, but it would have to do.
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stevebabey · 9 months
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totally didn’t expect the other part to do well at all but 😳 apparently i don’t know steddie fans. as such, have a part two <3 part one is here again, look out for the borrowed hunger games lines
“You’ve ruined your life, you know that, right?”
The kitchen had been basking in the lull of the quiet morning before Eddie had spoken up, breaking the silence. Steve blinks, realising he’s been zoned out staring at the swirling bubbles atop his mug of coffee and look up at Eddie across the table.
“Doing what you did.” Eddie continues. There’s this slight in his voice. Steve figures it’s not really aimed at him.
Chief Powell had agreed to not release the details of the case to the public for obvious reason. However, it went without saying that of the cops working the case, not all would be so free-thinking. There were plenty who deemed leaking the alibi and letting the town devour Steve’s reputation a more than fair consequence.
And, well, Eddie didn’t have any reputation left to tarnish or save.
Steve takes a sip of his coffee and lets the warm flavour coat his tastebuds as he tries to puts his thoughts in the right order.
He knows how Eddie sees this— sees it as this burden that he’s imposed on Steve’s life. That he had been able to accept it at first, the whispers of freedom tempting enough that he could be selfish enough to gasp them.
Then yesterday afternoon, Steve had come back from Bradley’s Big Buy with dried yolks splattered across the windscreen and regret howled through Eddie like a hurricane, fierce and wild. Realisation of what Steve had condemned himself to— no- what Eddie had condemned him to finally sunk in.
Steve can tell he’s been stewing on it all night. In the couple weeks he’s been here, staying in under the Harrington roof just down the hall from Steve, he’s surprised by how easily his brain has tacked on to Eddie’s habits. His little Eddie-ism’s. That’s what Steve calls them.
Like how Eddie’s nose will twitch if there’s something on his plate he doesn’t like, but he’s too polite to say it.
How he thumbs up and down the edge of a book when he’s reading, completely entranced. Doesn’t even notice his moving, twittering fingers.
How he’s always so much twitchier the morning after a sleep laced with terror after terror. It gives him away before Steve even see the bags under his eyes, the hollowness of his face.
Steve recognises that one from himself, from back when he’d gone through it all for the first time. The flinch is unshakeable when you’re convinced it’s all going to come back— that the world is going to tear itself up and spit out monsters you haven’t even dreamed of.
Today, Eddie isn’t twitchy like that. He’s tired, a sunken in face that comes from a bone-deep aching tiredness. He picks at his breakfast, bitterly avoiding the eggs on his plate.
And Steve can’t pretend to understand how Eddie grew up — can take his guesses but ultimately won’t get near the experiences he knows Eddie has lived through. Steve has only ever been on the other side. Stayed silent while someone else through snide comments and used the word fag like a jagged blade, to cut someone down.
So, he doesn’t know. Not even a year with Robin as his best friend and all her knowledge could’ve prepared Steve for the startling fear he’d felt when coming out of the store to the sight of a group of boys around his car, cartons of eggs in hand. One with a crowbar.
They would’ve smashed his windows if he had come out a minute later, he’s sure of it.
It had been like getting doused in icy water — the Letterman jackets on all of them, the sneers, still jeering taunts as they’d scattered across the parking lot. Steve had felt the bile rise in his throat as he got in the car and sat, staring at the steering wheel, his slimy fear melting and mixing with his anger.
Eddie’s point of view suddenly resounded within Steve in a way he hadn’t known before. Standing on tables, hollering about conformity, leaning in to every foul rumour about him— like a person drawing to full height, making himself as big as possible, to scare off a bear.
Steve gets that a little more now.
So, when Eddie tells him you’ve ruined your life he knows what he’s trying to tell him. Except, Steve doesn’t know how to say lightly that he’d gladly ruin his life to save Eddie’s. It’s too much — but Steve always is. Always loves in these big heavy ways that are too hard to handle.
So instead, he shrugs and says, “Consider it a trade.”
Eddie cocks his head, like a dog, just an inch.
“For following me into the lake and saving my life.”
Eddie scoffs and his head lolls back dramatically like what Steve’s said is ridiculous. “Jesus H Christ, dude, you saved yourself. I told you that I would’ve been too cowardly to come after you if Birdie and Wheeler hadn’t gone in first.”
He mutters the word cowardly with a hiss.
“Well then, a trade for drawing the bats away.”
“You mean the time I nearly became hamburger helper for the bats?”
“Christ, Eddie,” Steve scoffs. “I didn’t take you as someone who fished for compliments so hard.”
Eddie frowns, dropping his fork with a clatter on his plate. “I— what? I’m not- I don’t even—”
Steve cuts in. “You helped us and you saved my life, whether your horrible little brain can admit that or not. So,” He sits back in his chair with another little shrug and sips his coffee. “Equal trade.”
Eddie frowns, a crease forming between his brows. “No, not equal, Steve. You don’t get what you’ve done you— ugh, you just don’t—”
He huffs, cutting himself off, clearly unsure of how to voice his frustrations. He slumps back in his chair and eyes the eggs on his plate again with a glare this time.
Steve waits a moment and hopes he isn’t overstepping when he says, voice quiet, “I know, Eddie.”
Across the table, Eddie’s eyes raise to meet Steve’s and he doesn’t sound smug, he doesn’t sound angry, he just sounds defeated when he speaks.
“Do you?”
“Maybe not quite the extent of it until yesterday but, yes… I know.”
His words sink it and Eddie looks… affronted. His eyes get a little wide and a tremble finds his lips. Like the whole time he’d been convinced Steve wasn’t sure what he’d been getting into, that the reality hadn’t set in— that any moment he would rescind his alibi and throw Eddie to the cops and let them snap the cuffs back on him.
Steve hates that expression. Loathes that Eddie is so surprised that anyone would do this for him — something as important as keeping him alive and out of prison. Steve hates it because he knows it means that somewhere along the way, somebody had convinced Eddie that nobody would.
So, if he’s got to be the one to convince Eddie that someone will— that he will make the effort, will put his neck on the line because… well, isn’t that what Steve does best?
He’ll do it gladly.
Eddie picks up his fork and stabs his fork into the egg, the buttery yolk spilling onto the plate. Steve takes it as a truce, as him meeting him in the middle.
"So,” Steve swirls the mug in his hand and swills another sip back. Swallows it and takes a page out of Eddie’s book and goes the joke, leaning forward, forearms on the table. “If I’m gonna be your boyfriend for the foreseeable future I should probably know more stuff about you. Y’know, like, uh, the deep stuff.”
Eddie’s sunk back down in his seats but at Steve’s final sentence, he perks up. A smirking sort of grin crossing his face and Eddie twists a piece of his hair in front of his mouth. He hasn’t kept eating yet, too focused on the conversation.
"Uh-oh, the deep stuff.” He’s got that teasing tone in his voice. “Like what?"
"Like...” Steve scrambles to pull something from his brain. “Um, what’s your favourite colour?"
“Oh well, now you've stepped over the line."
Eddie’s sarcasm melts into a chuckle as Steve laughs, ducking his head instinctively. When he lifts his gaze, he’s relieved that Eddie looks a little lighter. Not much but a smidge of difference — Steve can see it if he squints. He’s sure it won’t be the last conversation they’ll have about this but for now, it’s settled.
Curiosity piques in Steve and he tries to sound casual when he says, “No, really, what is it?”
Eddie blinks and curls his hair around his finger once more, tugging it lightly. He seems to be considering his answer, eyes dropping to the sweater Steve’s donning.
“Yellow.” He finally says. “Not mustard but, y’know, lighter. Colour of the moon on Halloween or…”
“Cheese?” Steve suggests.
Eddie laughs. “Yeah, the right kind of cheese, sure. What about you? Favourite colour?”
Steve considers it — for the longest time, it had been red because Tommy had told him that red or blue were the coolest colours to like, way back in third grade. No one has asked him since then.
“Pink, actually.” Steve admits, hand coming up to brush across his nose, trying to hide behind the motion. He envies Eddie’s long curls suddenly. He feels the need to explain, more words rolling off his tongue. “Like, y’know, when the sun starts to set, like all dusky, it’s just… nice.”
Eddie’s staring at him peculiarly, his lips parted yet quirked up in this faint smile. If Steve didn’t know any better, he’d call it awe. Breaking his stare, Eddie chuckles again, finally properly picking his fork up to finish his meal.
“Steve Harrington.” He murmurs warmly, more to himself. His lips twitch with a smile. “You just keep surprising me.”
some people wanted more 🤲 uh get tagged idiot - normally i don’t do taglists but u were all so kind as to reply to the post & i didn’t get a chance to say thank u for ur lovely words! this is my thank u! have sum more!
@friendlyorange @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @lostinadmiration @life-love-musicaltheatre @oldlovershippiemusic5 @phoeniceae @catateme9 @lolawonsstuff @justagaypanda @pluto-pepsi @whoopstie @scenesofobx @justforthedead89 @musical-theatre-gay @theperksofbeingstjimmy @ikilledabuginthewall @imauselessartist @fridgebaby @lingeringmirth and uhhh @corrodedcoughin cos i still do a little squeal when u rb my tings even tho we’re mewchies :D
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milkcricket · 3 months
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After a long month of serious knitting I am pleased to say that the next world mural scarf is complete
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She is longer than I am and very very cozy
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factual-fantasy · 8 months
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alienssstufff · 7 months
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mini etho-related doodles for the final chapter of You Could've Applied Online that dropped today (good ending: REAL, FREE at shade-e-es glass factory emporium) (+unreal boatboys final goodbye sequence)... gonna miss it ;w;
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this one courtesy quote by chloe
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and unrelated DO2 etho doodle frum yesterday (idk what to do with this atm)
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astrolavas · 2 years
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you know what i’d like, Belos?
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spamgyu · 30 days
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Disconnected Calls // Seungcheol Oneshot
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DESCRIPTION: All his choices to put his career and his team first never led to any regrets; all except his choice to cut his ties with you. PARING: Seungcheol x Reader GENRE: Angst
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There was no one else to blame for his heartache but himself.
He was the one that ended the relationship.
He was the one that chose to do it over the phone – too much of a coward to tell you in person.
He was the one that chose to block your phone number and social media accounts.
He was the one that shut you out, not even bothering to take a second glance back at the relationship he once held so near and dear to his heart.
At the time, Seungcheol felt that he was doing what was right – putting his duties as a leader of his group first, prioritizing the band of brothers that he swore he would never turn his back on.
It wasn't that you were asking him to choose, no you would never do that. You loved those twelve boys just as much as he did.
Hell, you didn't ask for anything.
You were completely fine with being at the bottom of his list when it came to his priorities. You loved him, and you knew before entering a relationship with a member of one of the biggest boygroups in the industry that this came with a whole lot of baggage – you were willing to overlook it all.
As their success and schedules began to pick up, you were getting pushed lower and lower on that list – in fact, by the last few months of the relationships you weren't even on the list.
He had given in to the pressure of his role and decided to cut you loose – unable to balance his work life and love life. You wanted to put up a fight that night, he could hear it in your voice, but you didn't.
In moments of stillness, when he was alone with nothing but his thoughts, his mind would wander back to that night; his brain replaying the sound of his cold voice back to him.
"Let's end this. I'm tired, and I know you are too." His voice was monotonous, as if he was delivering the news to a business partner or a staff member – as if he didn't ever call you the love of his life.
"Oh." Seungcheol could hear your heart breaking from the other line, but he had his mind set and he was going to proceed with it.
"It was fun, y/n. Thank you."
"I– Yeah, you too." He knew you were holding back a sob.
It had been nearly two and half years since that day, and instead of healing, Seungcheol felt as though the gaping wound in his heart had grown larger as each day passed.
It was as if the pain grew stronger with each season.
He was the one that shut you out and yet, he continued to search for your face in the midst of a crowd – in hopes that maybe one day, he would see you again. Through all the mix of voices, he always tried to listen closely; just in case he could hear that melodic voice that was once his favorite song to hear.
Seungcheol knew he fucked up, there was no denying that; but he also knew that trying to reach out was of no use – not when he knew how badly he had broken you.
Feeling the couch cushion next to him sink in, Seungcheol turned to face the body that had occupied the space – pulling a tight lipped smile to greet his member.
"I– Look, I told Jeonghan that it might not be the best idea," Mingyu nervously toyed with the plastic case protecting his phone, glancing over to the older boy who had sent him over standing across the practice room – keeping a close eye on them two. "But he said you deserved to know, for– uh... for closure."
Seungcheol sat quietly, waiting for Mingyu to go on.
"She's engaged." Mingyu mumbled. He could have been speaking in jibberish and Seungcheol would have been able to decipher it.
Mingyu didn't have to say who; he knew exactly who he was talking about. You had been the one and only girl that had this effect on Seungcheol; everyone was well aware of that.
They knew the battle he faced every day in his head; the twelve taking turns giving him their own words of advice to help him possibly move on.
But there was no moving on. Not from you.
A ringing sound began in his ears, drowning out the indistinct conversations that was taking place all around him. Seungcheol knew this day was bound to happen, he just didn't think it would happen so soon.
Was this the reason why you never put up a fight?
Did you already have someone waiting in-line, waiting for him to fuck up?
"I– I tell them I don't feel good." Seungcheol shot up out of his seat, bounding for the door – ignoring all the confused stares from his group and staff members.
He was in no state to practice today... or tomorrow.
Or maybe the next few weeks.
Seungcheol didn't know where he was heading, all he knew was that the room that could easily fit a hundred people suddenly felt small – as if the walls and ceiling was closing in on him. The air in his lungs felt thick by the time he reached the threshold of the door, clutching the fabric of his shirt – his poor attempts to free his neck from the constricting feeling of the collar.
His vision was just about to go dark when he felt someone tug his arm, spinning him around.
"Hey," It was Jeongan. "Don't– where are you going?"
"I don't know."
Jeonghan scanned his best friends face, trying to read him. There was nothing but pain, painted across his face. He knew not a single one of his attempts to try to make Seungcheol stay would work. "Don't do anything stupid."
"Already did." He let out a bitter chuckle.
"This isn't the end of the world, you know that right." Jeonghan spoke slowly.
When he and Mingyu had found out about your engagement through a mutual friend, they stood in shock. There was never a timeline when it came to love, if someone decided they wanted to marry the person they were with after three months of dating, so be it.
Though, that didn't stop the two from being taken aback by the news – despite encouraging their best friend to move on from you. It wasn't that they didn't like you, in fact they loved you. They had only ever envisioned their eldest member with one girl, and it was you.
But what were they to do? This was the last and final sign that the universe had given for Seungcheol to move on.
"I know." Seungcheol managed to croak out. "I– I'm sorry I really need to get out of here."
Jeonghan nodded. "Keep your location on."
・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.
He had spent the last four hours driving aimlessly. Home wasn't a choice, not when every corner of his apartment still held memories of you – he may have taken images of you down but your presence remained. There was no getting rid of you. Not when his apartment had become your second home throughout your time together.
He couldn't bring himself to go to his favorite places either, knowing that those were once places he took you to.
Every part of this damned city reminded him of you.
Your ghost constantly haunting him.
Finally growing tired of the constant turns and u-turns, Seungcheol pulled into a random parking space – pulling out his phone to dial the phone number he had known by heart.
He knew there was no use in calling it; it had been disconnected months after the break up. He didn't care.
In all his moments, through the highest of highs and the lowest of lows, Seungcheol gave the number a call – sending a voicemail out into the void. It wasn't the best coping mechanism, and if anyone were to find out that he had done this on a regular basis, they would have put a stop to it – just as they had done when they had found out he had still held onto the items you had left behind.
Seungcheol knew this wasn't healthy, but this was the only thing that kept him together – because maybe, just maybe, in an alternate universe, you heard all the messages he left you.
"H-hey, Y/n. I– today isn't a good day." His voice was shaky. "I found out you're engaged. Mingyu told me. I– I bet the ring is beautiful, if he had listened to you. I know how much you wanted that emerald cut ring– I hope he got it right. I– fuck."
Seungcheol coulnd't hold it in any longer, the tears had began rushing down his face – as if the dam walls had been broken. "I want to be happy for you, Y/n– but fuck that should have been me. That was supposed to be me. I was supposed to buy you that ring and– Y/n please I– I'm still here. You're the one, you've always been the one and–"
Just as he hadn't been able to hold back the tears, neither could he for his sobs. The pain that once was just limited to the area around his heart had now radiated throughout his body.
He had thought that when this moment had come, he would have been in a better state – but somehow, he felt as though he had been kicked down lower. He felt as though he had been stomped on, beaten.
Seungcheol had reached a whole new low.
It took him a few minutes to regain composure, using the sleeves of his black hoodie to wipe away the moisture left on his face. "This is it, huh?" He cleared his throat. "I need to finally walk away, huh? I– I need to move on like you did, huh?"
・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.
Unbeknownst to Seungcheol, you had been doing the same.
Somewhere across the city, you were sat in your room; suppressing the tears and sob that threatened to escape your lips.
This was supposed to be the happiest moment of your life, the man of your dreams (or so you thought) had asked for your hand in marriage.
It may have only been a year since you two had made it official but for the first time in a long while he showed you that it was possible to love someone agian; and at the time it felt right. You stopped leaving voicemails on a number that had been long disconnected – the one that you had memorized by heart.
But old habits die hard, and as you stared at the oval cut ring on your finger – the other hand had subconsciously dialed his number.
It had been a long time since you had done this.
"Seungcheol, if you're out there– if you somehow get this– I– I made a mistake." You said in almost a whisper, lips quivering as you began to speak your thoughts aloud. "He– I thought I loved him. I really did. He made me feel happy again, he– he treats me so well. But the moment I saw that ring, I thought of you– I– he got it wrong."
You eyed the ring as you sucked in a breath of air. "It's silver. The band is silver. I don't own silver jewelry– It's oval, not the emerald cut we talked about– I can't help but think that you would have gotten it right. I don't even know why I said yes– fuck, am I stupid for saying yes?"
As a tear escaped your eye, you let out a laugh. This was ridiculous; pathetic even.
All while everyone congratulated you for this new milestone, you were calling the man that had left you hanging – the reason for your tears.
"It's not like you would be here to catch me if I said no, right?"
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PERMANENT TAGLIST
@thegirlwhoimagined @forcheol @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @f4iryjjosh @akeminy @yonabutnotyuna @tacosandbitch @aaniag @bettybotterboughtabitofbutter @xbaekcult @alwaysalmostthere @ashkuuuu @morkswatermelonnnn @isabellah29 @lottogyu @bubbly-moon @lllucere @bo-fairykim @pluviophile-xxx @daegutowns @niktwazny303 @fragmentof-indifference @leah-rose03 @haolistic @eclliipsed @joshuahongnumbers @gyuguys @yaaaridk @christinewithluv @yoonzinoooo @livelikejinki @watercolureyes @whoa-jo @primoisellerose @wonwoobestboyy @rakshithanotrao @mingcouper @aksweet7 @nikkell @raginghellfire @kriizztin
(for some reason it's not allowing me to tag some who wanted to be added to the perm tag list ... cries... pls check ur settings so i can for future posts)
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kikker-oma · 9 months
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Poor Four, he really has no idea what's happening to him 🥺
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turtleblogatlast · 5 months
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Headcanon that the boys were first introduced to Lou Jitsu through Splinter scrounging up an old movie to watch through a grainy projector. Splinter wanted to hype himself up at the time, to see a version of himself - however fictional - succeeding and being happy.
He watches, and smiles, mouthing along to the dialogue and outright whisper-shouting “HOT SOUUUP!” whenever it comes up.
Nestled in his lap are his four new sons, still learning the world around them and heavily reliant on their new father. They watch with wide eyes how lively their guardian looks, how happy he sounds, and they turn to watch the movie closely. Because, for as young as they were, they could recognize the source of their father’s joy.
So naturally, they come to associate Lou Jitsu with their father’s smile, and in turn, they feel happy themselves. To them, Lou Jitsu will always be a source of joy, and always make them smile, even if they forget why as they grow.
They’re not just movies for the four of them - they’re the distant memories of a warm lap and a smiling face.
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narusasuart · 3 months
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Read left to right
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No talking smack about Sasuke's boyfriend rival.
He might actually kill you.
Inspired by this text post by @naruto-totally-canon-quotes
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vaporvipermedia · 5 months
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Doodle woodles…
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Thank you to @oseathepebble @ice-cweam-sod4 and @bloodiegawz for their doodle requests.
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silversnowblossom · 1 year
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I think what really gets me about kaveh's character story 5 is that a lot of people seem to think that alhaitham is cold. but like, the fallout of their friendship happened because he cared too much. because alhaitham was worried about kaveh and the self-destructive pursuit of his ideals/spiral he was trapped in thanks to his guilt, realized that this idealism would cause problems for kaveh in the future, and tried to warn him about it. and kaveh didn't take it well.
and yeah, he was probably too blunt about it as usual, but i'm sure kaveh telling him that he regretted ever being friends with him (considering they were best friends - also, that confirmation from mhy that is canon is great - and kaveh is likely alhaitham's first friend) must've deeply hurt alhaitham. because yeah, he's intelligent and rational and doesn't outwardly emote much when he's not arguing with kaveh, but he's still human. he still has feelings. and it's kaveh that crossed the line and destroyed what they had between them (which i'm sure he'd regretted later, something that probably only added to the immense guilt plageuing him). we all knew that whatever happened between them had to have been explosive, given the hints from alhaitham's character stories, but ouch.
honestly, poor alhaitham. and poor kaveh. </3
just. mhy really went all-in on the angst with kaveh's character stories, and it's delicious. absolutely adore what they did here
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o0o0thorn0o0o · 3 months
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Anyway, I got addicted to my own palette again, oops. Exclusively IchiHime addition this time.
Quality’s a little iffy on the first one because I drew it so tiny, eheh ^^
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thank you WH update for confirming that Wally breathes. i really thought he didnt <3
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luck-of-the-drawings · 7 months
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FOR A BEAT OF HEART, THE BREATH IS SHOT. AND WITHIN A BREATH, THE HEART IS CAUGHT. THE PIPES ARE BURSTING, UNDER GREAT STRESS, BOLTS TORN ASUNDER, MAKING A MESS. A FINAL COUGH, A FINAL RETCH, A GOREY SLOUGH, CLAIMED BY WRETCH.
#cw gore#jrwi riptide#jrwi riptide spoilers#chip jrwi#jrwi fanart#jrwi show#I LLOOOVE POETRYYY I LOVE MAKING WORDS RHYME IN STRANGE WAYS AND DESCRIBING VISCERA AND VIOLENCE OR WAHTEVER. YKNOW WHAT ELSE I LOVE#CHHHIIIIIIIBBOOOOO MY BEAUTIFUL MAAANN WWHAT. WHAT HAPPENED. OH MY GOD. IVE BEEN SAYING FOREVER. I NEEED CHIP TO GET SCARIER.#HE HAS THE POTENTIAL! I KNOW HE DOES! HAUNTED BOY WITH THE HAUNTED EYES WHAT TRAUMAS HAVE YOU SEEN? AND WERE THEY YOUR FAULT? THINK ABOUT I#EVERY FAMILY HAS CRUMBLED AROUND HIM. HIS BIRTH FAMILY CRUMBLED BEFORE HE KNEW IT. HIS SECOND FAMILY DROWNED. THIRD BURNED TO THE GROUND#AND SHALL THIS NEXT FAMILY JOIN THEM? CHIIIIP YOU UNFORTUNATE BOY YOU HAVE WITNESSED SO MUCH CALAMITY#YOU ARE CALAMITY BOYYY AHAHAHAHA DONT YOU SEEE!! ZOMBIFIED AND DEAD. TRUELY MORE HAUNTED THAN EVER BEFORE. THIS WILL BE FUN#THE FIRE HURTS WHEN IT BURNS TOO LONG. BUT NOW YOUR NERVES ARE DEAD AND YOUR MIND IS FREE. BURN THIS CORPSE AS YOU WISH TO GET WHAT YOU WAN#CHIP IS NOT THE FIRE HE IS THE MATCH. I LOVE THAT IDEA SO MUCH IM SO PROUD OF IT. OHHH AND CAN WE TALK ABOUT THE CORRUPTION#bizly mentioned that chip wants to be a good captain. in his most corrupted state however. he would be the BEST captain..#thAT DOESNT MEAn hes gonna just suddenly be all controlling. the BEST captain keeps his crew safe. keeps them together. keeps them alive.#and chip is doing just that! he doesnt need to stop being a good captain just bc of the corruption! he just needs to be the BEST CAPTAIN#AND THATS SUBJECTIVE BABY!! im so excited to see where chips zombie arc goes. neeeed him to get scarier and just a little more fucked up.#neEED HIM TO PERFORM ABHORANT ACTIONS THAT HAVE JAY N GILL GOING ' dude woah what the fuck...'#RIGHT I SHOULD TALK ABT MY ART TOO. this one took TOO LONGGGstarted out witha sketch how did it end up like this...#the heart and the blood KILLED ME. LOOK AT MY RENDERING LIKE HWAAATT#better not see any more mistakes after i post this.... i cant fight withit anymore....STILL RLY PROUD THO..#I WAnted to make it visually LOOK like the grossest vomiting sound possible#i want it to make your throat feel uncomfortable. am i achieving that? i hope i am. thats tubes dude!!! like cmahn!
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