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themsource · 1 year

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Misery

I was kind of shy sharing my OC Misery but I feel that I want to now. He's pictured above with my insert OC Oreo that I've had since childhood. Oh, what to say about Misery? You've probably noticed that he looks like Sans from Undertale or better yet an Alternate Universe version. Well he looks and sounds like Sans for a reason.

If interested the explanation on him is below the cut.

Getting a bit personal Sans is a big comfort character of mine. I enjoy pairing him up with everybody from other characters to inserts, etc. I like Sans so much I can't help wanting him to be loved and get it where it's available no matter the ship or pairing. (Kinda, haven't been sold on Soriel, I really enjoy them being best buds though and I don't really want to ruin that) And yes, that means even having him share in my suffering and pain too as a kindred soul and comfort blanket.

That's where Misery comes in.

He assumes the form of Sans for the explict purpose of torturing me emotionally and easily getting me to lower my guard and get behind my defenses. He also represents how toxic and damaging the fandom (The English side - in general) has become to me, but how I can never quit it because I love it too much. Misery's name is exactly who he is. Whenever I get too happy or peaceful he rears his ugly head to stir up trouble and to *Feed*. He drinks determination and confidence out of me which in turn stains his teeth black as a sign of contamination. Coincidently his goal on making me miserable is his own form of love too.

Misery is literally the poster child of awful relationships.

Some facts I've come up with for him is the fact he's affixed to my soul so he can't be killed unless I am. He can be subdued, beaten back by others and myself in very rare moments of strength but he always comes right back. Like an addiction. Misery is addicted to my suffering and going too long without can push him to unbearable levels. (I won't clarify what that exactly means for me) He can enlarge in size, change form, travel and create my nightmares, everything and anything to damage me he's capable of doing.

His coloration is because he's mossy, covered head to toe in the stuff like a bodysuit while wearing frayed black billowy pants. You can't see it in the images provided but he does have a white handprint sprayed out in the middle of his ribs revealing white ivory bone. This is the sign of our connection. (It's my/Oreo's handprint) He uses sickly yellow energy for 'magic' similar to the color of his eyes which are stars, stars to lord over me the hope I crave but denying me it.

There was an OC 'brother' I made for him in the form of Papyrus called Bitterness to represent all the darkness and hatred inside of me but I never got around to creating him. Every time I tried I felt sick and Misery metaphorically raised his head again lol

I've been writing this simply because I wanted to share him and maybe lower the weight he has piled on my shoulders from the fear that no one cares or is interested in my stuff. (Which logically I know isn't true but since when does the heart and mind ever line up properly lol)

Um, bit of an adult topic. His love does show in physical ways (horrible awful addictive ways) which means he does 'do the do' in my mind. But not in normal ways. Try to picture Ero Guro artist Takato Yamamoto's work combined with 1982s John Carpenter's The Thing (Yes the monster's assimilation - it's not pretty at all). This is a unity of pain and pleasure to the Nth degree like the Cenobite's like to talk about lol I have reasons for why I picture this type of thing but I don't feel comfortable publicly disclosing that sorry.

Anyways, I think that's about it! If there's more I remember or if someone ever asks me questions I'll come back and edit/add it in just as I will on Deviantart where I've cross posted this.

If you read this thank you. I hope it was interesting in a way.

-M

#my ocs #misery #This as a whole is depressing #Misery is misery indeed #Don't get me wrong I love the fandom #but I got scars man

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disc80s · 4 months

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#is being predisposed to having depression/general feeling of sadness through your whole life an actual thing?#or do I just have undiagnosed high functioning depression #txt

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yudol-skorbi · 7 months

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gooooooooorls

#critical role #fanart #the mighty nein #cr2 #nott the brave #jester lavorre #beauregard lionett #yasha nydoorin #i decided to color them #i think it came out pretty neat #still not sure about patterns on beau's coat but euughrrhh #if i not finish now i'll newer finish #yasha's pallet is depressing btw #and i respect her for it #slay you depressed queen #nott is my favorite shade of green probably the easiest part of this whole piece #drawing her is a delight

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sensitiveheartless · 8 months

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Part 4 of the "Dazai and Chuuya being competitive, mutually pining disasters" comics!

<- (Previous part) (Next part) ->

Most of this one is under the cut because it got LONG

#I'm gonna make at least one more little thing for this because it's eating my brain lol #possibly two because I have a compulsion to resolve literally everything possible #side note: that kid remains convinced that he saw real-life Westley and Buttercup in the grocery store for a long time #...also if I had the hands for it I would redraw this whole thing from the outsider POV because i think it would be hilarious —#man in hat shakes a package of fish around in a silent rage and then sadly puts it down and wanders around looking intensely depressed #until suddenly another guy #very out of breath #runs in and passionately declares his love for hat-man #life in bsd's Yokohama can never be normal #bsd #bsd chuuya #bsd dazai #my art #bungou stray dogs #soukoku #skk

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ryssbelle · 2 months

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N2 Floyd in the first movie

Sad little man got himself captured :(

He also gets punched in the face, but that's neither here nor there lmao

Also sorry for not posting for a fat minute I've been busy XD

Bonus: What John and Branch be doing

RIP in pieces John Dory, you were a brave troll and will be missed

I've got some more doodles of them going through it in the first movie, maybe we will see them soon teehee .

#my art #trolls au #dreamworks trolls #trolls #trolls 3 #trolls john dory #trolls floyd #trolls branch #trolls oc #n2 au #not the only one au #ye floyd is singing that song from DBH #its a good song #and he also cant hue shift cuz depression and stress #that little sketch of bridget was the first time ive drawn her #shes so freaking cute #she reminds me of my aunt #also someone seems to recognize floyds little angry face #i wonder why #hehe #i say having out the reason why in the picture #john and Branch are also going through it #cuz in the dream this originates from jd legit tried to throw hands with a whole ass bergen #and loses obviously but he tried and thats all that matters #branch is just losing brothers by the second #hes obvi gonna assume Floyds already dead and then JD is family guy death posing in front of him #but he still goes out to help poppy #cuz john asked and hes also in love with poppy so he wouldve gone eventually either way #and he doesnt want floyd to get left behind 🥺#like a certain green someone hehe

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theelmoarchive · 3 months

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Guys I swear it's not Jay again I swear it's not-

*this drops out of my pocket*

😨😨😨

#No!! Not my favorite character who is continuously mischaracterized by fandom!! Oh jeepers!! 🤯🤯🤯#marble hornets #jay merrick #Mh jay #mh jay merrick #Marble hornets jay #Jay mh #Im sad that his neurodivergent and depression traits that aren't just “quirky and awkward” are completely looked over #Let autistic coded characters be less empathetic please #Let characters be less emotional and less vunerable in that sense #Anyway 🙄🙄#marble hornets fanart #jay merrick fanart #mh fanart #Wrote a whole essay in the tags but sigh. The world isnt ready for it #my art teehee

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hezekiahwakely · 4 months

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#its the only thing keeping the seasonal depression from swallowing me whole #time to listen to the new eppysode then vague about it :)#tmagp #the magnus protocol

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trappednyourheart · 27 days

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The wrong DNA test

( what if, Sheila wasn't really Jason's mother? The system is already corrupted, then what about the test?).

A huge brawl containing every rogue had started at the time of Halloween, causing the people from downtown to fled there home's as joker had clownized the whole neighborhood with his goon's.

Every bats had taken to groups to take out the three parts of Gotham's as the rogue's had started to make alliances, some had lasted quite long while had conflicts, and causing a big damage to Arkham asylum,

It didn't take long before they captured all of them, none of the bats questions as they observed Jason glowing green eyes starting to flick, they thought it was the pit again, growing wary of the cooperation, but Crime alley was involved and that mean business to Red hood's turf.

Catherine todd love her son as her own even if not biological, Jason knew that. But her thing with drugs couldn't make her stop.

Sometimes after that, they could hear Jason humming a tune,a nice melody from Damian's statement saying that Jason muttered to him “ lullaby” as Jason continued to read his book, maybe it could be from Catherine,

they knew how Jason's past with Catherine todd, his mom even if not related, Catherine loves her son like her own kid but her doing drugs and... overdosing couldn't be stop.

Maybe Jason just remembered his mother maybe reminiscing atleast something familiar...even if it was a bad time.

Jason had constantly have been hearing a woman's? Man's? Voice, singing him a lullaby...it soothing, like as if he known and loved this melody...and that's where the dreams kept coming, there was a person, giving him kisses, Talkin to him stories, singing him lullabies and soothing him, he could dream that he was actually a baby, a baby from a normal couple, well don't count the luxurious baby room.

Jason had took out a conspiracies why he was getting this dreams, ( he swears he's not becoming Tim) and voices, maybe like a misshapen memories from the pits of victims? No it's to peaceful for that, maybe magic? He already contacted Constantine but surely hang up after knowing who it was-

Just how is he getting this dreams? Unless it wasn't.... So he proved again his point, he started a DNA test, again but none had records...of Sheila being his biological mother...that was weird, last time he had a test was from the time as robin..and before his-

So he went to that hospital who had said where Sheila had given birth to him, and most of shock is that no one knows a mother giving birth named Sheila haywood but had a document of a baby, of one Jason jay nightingale, the most believing part was that it's the same day he was born in.

His mother, Daniel F. Nightingale was said to be trans as the doctor who help his mother safely delivered him, And saying that his mother loved him,

one Sheila Haywood had the constant trick to get him and taken him as his own, because his mother's family was a wealthy one they practically sold him to her.

Jason had thought that maybe his mother's family never wanted him to have a son with a man from Gotham's crime alley.

Meanwhile Danny had just been YEETED to the DC universe before the start of Batman's justice thing and had been adopted by a very wealthy fruit loops couple as there kid, so he stayed as the couples daughter even pretending, because he owed ghost writer a favor for the last time, and as DC universe exist so it's story, and one thing for sure the child he had to give birth in this universe has a very complicated fate,

he did the one night stand from his supposed friend Willis Todd? He had to befriend him as Dalia F. nightingale the supposed Wealthy daughter who fell in love with a peasant trope, and gotten pregnant making it a scandal, and reaching to his ‘parents’ circle and getting that drama.

But he never thought he would care for his child, his little jay, his ghost side would purr in delight when they held Jason, he was a very hard sucker especially from his pacifier or his breast, it's so weird being in a women body,

but the way his ‘parents’ sold his son to the women who was supposed to get his son killed and being revived by cheap parody ass of ectoplasm.

He went feral, he had an argument to his ‘parents’ but all fell deaf ears, he couldn't find his son in one of the hotels nearby where that BXtch was.

And that time was where his part of the script was fulfilled, ghost writer already took him, both sides of his, were angry.

He. will. get. his. baby. back.

#dcxdp #Danny phantom #dcxdp crossover #Mom!Danny #Batfam #Jason todd #portraits #When the bats find this they decided to help find Jason's Mom only to find out she went missing #his Jay Nightingale now #yes- im getting of topic #so lets just say that clockwork has also has some things involved with his #dcdp #batfam #and ghostwriter #so if this doesn't go to your timeline aus or smth or cannon idk what to say #when the bats found out about Jason's investigation to find his mother #they gladly help but after finding where jason's grandparents who sold him to Haywood #they meet with them #and the whole revealed was much more depressing because His mother died/missing/suicide #Ghost writer was the one who plan the...The death scene.#so jason is sad #and very much wants his momma #because thats how ghost parents shit is right?#yeah i dont think im educated enough #So the grandparents are like grieving for there son (yes they accepted his trans btw).#and let jason and the rest of the batfam in there manor/castle ( cause there seriously old money) and introduce jason to his mom's things #portraits of danny #telling stories of danny in his youth.#but they avoided the way he ‘died’ for ghost writers plot conveniences but they mention #green...like ectoplasm but they just called it green liquid.

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chibigaia-art · 3 months

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btw quick reminder that if you're a terf you're not welcome here

#chibiblabbing #the whole thing going on rn. man.#scrolling the dash today has just been depressing with all the international news and internal tmblr shit #also tired of seeing h*rry p*tter stuff on my friends insta stories i love her but hhh #seeing her share a thing and then go on to find the asshole donated tons of money for her terfy crusade #yikes

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thatswhatsushesaid · 3 months

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psa that the day there are no jgy stans left on tumblr dot com is the day i am dead

but rest assured i'll go to my grave exactly as i lived: obnoxiously proclaiming to everyone within earshot how great lianfang-zun is. narratively, metaphorically, spiritually. sexually, too, like why limit myself. i like to keep my options open

#the spirit of su minshan possessed me for a minute there but like. i'm fine with it #jin guangyao #he did crimes??? good for him 😌#editing this post to add that while the tone here is clearly joking #i really am fundamentally still engaged with this fandom #and with this book #almost exlcusively because of my enjoyment of jgy #even xiyao is secondary for me like i love it and i'm ride or die for it obvs #but jgy as a character is the main draw for me. and he would have me by the throat even if there was no zewu-jun #(tho i think jgy's life would be more depressing for his absence obviously)#but he is just. /clenches my fists!!!#THE most compelling character in the story and i cannot stop thinking about him!! cannot will not!!#who else in this book has his range? who else can be the doe-eyed idealist AND the spy with blood on his hands who ends a war?#who else is two different greek tragedies and at least two separate shakespearean tragedies rolled into one antagonist #an antagonist who but for the POV of the novel could very easily have been the protagonist #whose moral event horizon is so deeply entwined with his own trauma and abuse that there is no way to meaningfully separate #the violence he does to others from the systemic violence that was done to him for his whole life?#who else in this book manages to get five separate sect leaders utterly obsessed with him no matter how you choose #to interpret that obsession?#no one!!! that's who!!#ain't no one else in the jianghu doing it like lianfang-zun and that's just a goddamn fact

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tangledinink · 5 months

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Did leo deal with his pregnancy differently or was it the same as donnie?

Leo's pregnancy was very different from Donnie's! For him, quite frankly, the pregnancy was the easy part.

the really hard part came after.

[ ✩ the gemini ✩ ]

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jennifersminds · 4 months

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I don't care what you think anymore. JACOB ELORDI AS FELIX CATTON SALTBURN

#the way that was the last thing anyone ever said to him #idk like he lived his whole life knowing that his opinion mattered to some people more than anything #and like #he might not have loved it but it was all he knew #and the last words spoken to him were telling him that didn't matter anymore #emerald fennal said lets give the gays everything they want and that was slutty men in angel wings and depression #saltburn #saltburnedit #felix catton #felixcattonedit #emerald fennell #jennifersmindsgifs #jacobelordiedit #jacob elordi #filmgifs #cinemaedit

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flowercrowngods · 1 year

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based on this concept of steve and mike coming out to each other

🤍 also on ao3

The sun is setting in beautiful hues of pink and purple, tinging the town of Hawkins, Indiana, in a light of serenity and beauty it doesn’t really deserve. Steve’s hands are gripped tight around the steering wheel as he carefully scans the road and the houses he passes.

He almost misses the bike where it’s lying on the curb, carelessly discarded by the looks of it, and a tinge of worry shadows his frown. Worry that doesn’t quite dissipate when he spots the figure sitting on the roof, almost black against the lilac colour of the sky, but he breathes a sigh of relief. He considers grabbing the radio to let the others know he found Mike, but decides against it. Something tells him that maybe they’ll take a while. Something tells him there’s more to Will’s stunned silence and Mike’s sudden departure from where they were all hanging out at Steve’s after another successful Hellfire session.

With a sigh, Steve cuts the engine and gets out of the car, keeping his eyes on Mike the whole time — ready for him to take off again, ready to go sit a while and wait for him to come back. But Mike doesn’t move, even after he shuts the door and approaches the Wheelers’ house. He doesn’t acknowledge Steve when he pulls himself up to the roof, easier this time than the first time he did this.

There’s a snide comment in the air between them, a version of Mike that would have lashed out at him, made fun of and insulted him. But this one just sits there, hands in his lap, frown on his face, and stares ahead.

“What do you want,” he asks eventually, though it doesn’t have the kind of heat that Steve expects. He barely even sounds like a teenager. Just sort of… dejected. Steve aches for him; just a little bit.

“Just making sure you’re alright,” Steve says, shrugging, looking ahead as well so Mike doesn’t feel watched. Or seen, maybe.

Because the thing is, Steve does see him. He sees the way he looks at Will sometimes, and the way his eyes fill with something that can only be described as yearning, or aching, followed by regret and fear. Which always, always turn into anger. Into frustration. Into snide comments and rolled eyes and walls that keep getting an inch added to them each day. It’s never directed at Will, that anger, and rarely at the rest of the Party, but Steve still sees it. Gets the worst of it and takes it, because he knows something about how that feels.

He knows something about looking at someone like that, about feeling that fear, that regret, that worry that come with it. He knows something about never really daring to meet someone’s eyes for fear of what they would see.

“I’m alright,” Mike says, sounding anything but. There’s a bitterness in his voice. Frustration in the way his thumb is picking at the skin of his fingers. Confusion in the tension of his shoulders, and Steve feels like he only needs to make one wrong move, say one wrong word, make a single sound that’s off key to the melody of this moment, and Mike will jump off the roof and take off again with his bike.

So all he says, after a moment’s consideration, is, “Cool.” Like he believes him. Giving Mike room to breathe, room to pretend. He knows something about that, too.

He knows and he sees and he feels.

And suddenly he wants to say something he’s never said before, something he didn’t even get to tell Robin because she knew and saw and felt, too, taking something from him that he hasn’t yet been ready to reclaim for himself.

And maybe it’s because he sees something of himself in the way Mike holds himself, in the way he snaps at anyone willing to listen, in the way he frowns in regret and barely meets anyone’s eyes except when it’s in challenge — and, most of all, in the way he never, never meets Will’s eyes. In the way he looks away when the other boy turns to him, and in the way his eyes will snap back and take in everything about his best friend when he’s not aware of it.

Maybe it’s because the sky is pink and lilac and purple above them, allowing for a certain magic to happen, allowing for a bravery that doesn’t come easy to him; but as he sits on the roof next to Mike Wheeler, the only one of the Party he never really connected with, he closes his eyes against the breeze that catches in his hair and opens his jacket a little further, slithering beneath the fabric as if in a brief embrace, a nudge, a sign to take this leap, and takes a deep breath.

His heart is picking up its pace inside his chest, taking this leap along wit him, and pulls up one of his legs to wrap his hands around it — just to have something to hold onto.

He opens his mouth once, twice, three times, but the words never really come out. They don’t know how, and he’s beginning to tremble a little with it, tension building in his chest where the words are still locked away, hidden among layers of truth.

Mike looks over with a frown and eyes him warily. It makes Steve want to laugh, this sudden change of pace, but he just keeps staring ahead; even when Mike asks, “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Steve says. And then then dam is broken and breaking further, and with another deep breath, still not meeting Mike’s eyes, instead focusing on the tree tops in the distance that shine in hues of purple, he finally says, “I’m kind of dating Eddie Munson.”

And just like that, it’s out. He’s out.

He doesn’t know if the world still spins, if time still passes, if he still breathes, because for a moment there is only silence. Mike stops picking at the skin of his fingers, Steve stops trembling, and neither of them moves.

It’s both anticlimactic and momentous, this silence between them when their eyes meet. When the words unfold and grow wings, when Mike understands, his eyes growing big with something that Steve can’t quite read with how tense he is despite his best efforts.

The silence stretches between them, surpassing comfort and overstaying its welcome, and suddenly it’s Steve who feels like he’s about to take off if Mike so much as twitches his brows.

“You… What?”

Forget it, Steve wants to say. Nothing.

But also, I’m in love with Eddie Munson. And I used to be in love with Nancy. And that’s okay. Both of that, it’s okay.

He ends up repeating his words, though, because they know what it’s like to be spoken now. “Eddie. I’m kind of dating Eddie.”

“But…” It’s Mike now whose mouth is opening and closing without saying anything. Mike who’s blinking, trembling a little, twitching, picking at his skin again, moving further along his hand this time to pinch the skin between his thumb and pointer finger. Steve almost reaches out to stop him, but he doesn’t really dare to.

“But?” he prompts after a while, not quite comfortable with this loaded kind of silence.

“Eddie’s a boy.”

But Tammy Thompson is a girl.

“I know,” Steve says, his tone carefully neutral, wanting to see, to wait where Mike takes this, to hear what’s on his mind, to watch the wheels turn and the gears shift. He feels awfully raw and open, vulnerable with someone who hasn’t been treating that with care yet. But there’s something about this moment that feels bigger than his own fears, bigger than the light nausea settling in his gut; far more important than the way he wants to run and hide, away from the scrutiny.

“And…” Mike continues, still battling the words inside his head. Steve wonders if there are too many or none at all. “But you… You loved Nancy.”

Ah. Smart boy. “I did,” Steve says with a small smile. “And it was never a lie. But I found that… Yeah, I can kinda like boys, too, y’know? And that’s, like, okay.”

A beat. A frown. A confused, hopeful, small, “It is?”

Steve just nods, smiling in reassurance and relief at equal measures. Silence settles once more, now that the sky has darkened into a deeper, darker blue; but it’s not as loaded this time, not as tense. It’s an invitation. An offering. A promise of I’m here, I’m with you, you can take as long as you need. To get down from the roof, to come back, to come out of wherever you think you need to hide from the world.

Mike takes it. He stays, pulling up his leg, too, mirroring Steve’s pose and staring ahead, but not as far away. He seems alert, seems to be thinking rather than dwelling, seems to be gearing up for something. Steve watches and sees and knows, remaining patient beside him, his chin resting on his knee as Mike learns to deal with this new world that has been presented to him. This new world that comes with opportunities and chances and possibilities that are scary and big and difficult to make.

“Y’know,” Mike starts at last, interrupting the silence, playing with it, his voice hushed and quiet to keep it from disappearing completely. “Lucas, when he had that championship game? He told us, Dustin and me, that we didn’t have to be the losers this time. The nerds. The outcasts. Different. And all I wanted was to scream at him, because…”

Mike swallows his words, keeping them from tumbling out of his mouth, and Steve aches for him again. He wants to reach out, wants to say it’s okay, tell him it’s alright, to take his time. But he waits in silence, lets Mike find the bravery he needs on his own, and waits.

“Because how could he say that, you know? How could he, when… Will wasn’t there. And all I did, all I ever did anymore, was miss him. And I loved El, I knew I did. And she was gone, too, but…”

He trails off again, and this time Steve picks it up. To let him know he’s not alone. To let Mike know he understands what he’s saying. He understands. “But she’s not Will. You needed Will.”

“But I shouldn’t!” Mike explodes suddenly, riled up because Steve adds fuel to the fire, because Steve has that same fire, too; and because they are so, so similar when they want to be. “And now he’s back and it should be fine, I shouldn’t be feeling like this, it doesn’t even make sense! How can I…”

Steve looks at him, at his expression that is nothing but lost — completely and utterly. He’s seen it on the bathroom floor at the mall; high out of his mind as he was, he’ll never forget the way Robin looked at him, the sheer crestfallen expression. All that confusion, all that fear and frustration and, in the end, resignation. He’s seen it in the mirror, and he’s seen it in those pretty brown eyes that he just can’t get out of his head anymore.

He offers, gently, “How can you need him when he’s right there? How can you love him when a year ago you loved El?”

And Mike just looks at him before he deflates completely, his shoulders falling along with his face. He nods. Shrugs. Looks away and hides his face behind his leg.

Steve sighs softly, watching the boy and speaking the words he wants to say the sixteen year-old version of himself. “I don’t know,” he says truthfully. “I really don’t, and it sucks sometimes, having this need to, like, decide. Or understand. Or stop and be like the rest of them.” Like Robin and Eddie, or like the rest of the world. “But I like to think, sometimes, that maybe it’s a good thing. That there’s just… I don’t know, it sounds corny as hell, but like, there’s just so much love to give, we can’t even stick to only boys or girls, y’know.”

“That does sound real corny as fuck, man,” Mike says, and back is that long suffering tone of his, back is that eye roll and the twitching elbow, ready to nudge Steve in the side. It’s still tinged with that vulnerability, not quite Mike yet, but it’s an offering.

One of many tonight, it seems.

Steve grins, a bit lopsided and raw, shoving Mike gently as he remembers something he overheard once. “Sorry, mister Heart of our group, but I don’t think you have any leg to stand on here.”

That makes Mike freeze, though, and he stares at Steve wide-eyed; caught. Exposed. Reminded.

“What did you say?”

“Uh,” Steve falters, not sure where he went wrong — or if he went wrong at all. “I overheard Will calling you that, talking about you to, uhm. Someone. I don’t know. Why, what’s— What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Mike says, way too quickly, pulling away again with everything he has, hiding behind those walls once more, and Steve feels whiplash from it.

“Mike,” he says, his voice quiet and gentle as he turns to face him completely.

“No.”

“It’s okay,” Steve says. Promises, as much as he can.

“Shut up!”

“You’re not wrong or bad or broken. It’s okay, you’re okay.”

“I said, shut up, Steve.”

“You should see the way he looks at you, too. You should go talk to him. You—“

Mike lashes out, finally coming out from behind those walls again, only to shove at Steve, to push him away — hard enough for him to lose his balance and almost fall off the roof, clenching one hand on the edge, the other in the rainwater gutter with a bitten-off curse.

“Shit, I’m sorry!” Mike reaches for him immediately, snapping out of whatever anger Steve caused, and pulling him back until he’s safe again, apologising over and over, dead to Steve’s promises that it’s alright. “Fuck, I’m so sorry, Steve, I’m so—“

He pulls Mike against his chest, finally reaching out to hold the boy who always pushes people away when they get too close — quite literally, too.

But he doesn’t shove this time, doesn’t move out of Steve’s grasp as the mumbled apologies become heaving sobs.

“It’s okay, you’re okay, you’re so okay, Mike,” Steve tells him over and over as he holds him. The sky above is almost black now and Steve lets Mike cry into his chest.

It takes a while for Mike to calm down, but Steve just holds him through it, ready to let go whenever Mike wants to pull back and snap out of it again — but he never does, and Steve feels a certain kind of affection for the boy that is usually reserved for Lucas or Dustin.

At last, when he’s calmed down, Mike pulls back a little. “Do you really… Does it… Is it really okay?”

Can it be okay? Can I really like both? Is that not just me, being broken and wrong and bad? Will I get the chance to not be alone?

Steve swallows hard, and his voice is hoarse when he says, “Yeah. It’s really okay. ‘N’ I’m with you, yeah? If someone gives you shit for it. Or if you need a reminder.”

And Mike — puffy eyed, snotty nosed, so, so young — looks at him with those trusting eyes and nods, like he believes Steve. Like he trusts him. Like he hopes.

“Just don’t fucking shove me off your roof again.”

Ans just like that, the spell is broken, the tension is lifted, and silence has left them, as Mike almost chokes on a laugh and shoves at him again, lightly this time, before jumping off the roof so Steve can’t retaliate.

“Asshole,” he mutters, shaking his head as he, too, jumps off the roof, dusting off his pants as he watches Mike grabbing his bike. “Hey, Micycle,” he calls, cackling when Mike flips him the bird. “You want a ride back?”

Mike stops, considering as Steve casually flicks his keys into the air and catches them expertly. “What kinda music do you got?”

“The Clash, ‘cause Eddie hates them.”

“Yeah, that’s because they suck!”

Steve snorts, opening the driver’s side door. “Y’know, they’re one of Will’s favourites, actually.”

He watches Mike freeze with a grin on his face, knowing there’s no way the boy would take the bike.

“You’re so annoying,” Mike sighs as he brings his bike close to the garage and carefully lays it on the grass this time before hurrying over to Steve, getting in on the front, rolling his eyes when Steve cackles. “I don’t know why Eddie would date you—“

His words are drowned out when Steve turns up Train in Vain, drumming along on the steering wheel with a shit eating grin. Though the atmosphere is wildly different now, the spell broken and the bubble burst, it’s undeniable that something happened between them. Something big, something important.

Something that makes Mike’s annoyed, long-suffering expression be broken by the smile he’s trying to hide. It makes Steve laugh, elated and feeling something that’s much, much bigger than he himself ever could be.

It’s going to be okay. So, so okay.

Before they know it, they’re pulling up to Steve’s and he turns off the car, is about to get out when Mike makes him still again.

“Hey, Steve?”

“Hm?”

“I think it’s cool. You and Eddie.”

He smiles, relief and fondness washing over him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Thanks.” He reaches over and ruffles Mike’s hair — a wild mane these days, but they could make it work with some care and some products. “Now go get your man, lover boy.”

“God, you suck so much, you’re so annoying!”

Steve’s cackling again when the passenger door slams shut and Mike lets himself into his house.

He spots a figure in the dark, their face lighting up when they take a drag of a cigarette — and Steve’s heart stumbles in his chest. He scrambles to get out, attempting to look calm and collected, even though Eddie always manages to see right through him.

“Hello, stranger,” he says, leaning against the wall beside Eddie, hiding away in the dark, where the world won’t see their shoulders touch, or their fingers tentatively playing with each other before they can’t take it no longer and lace their hands, holding on tight.

“Hi,” Eddie breathes. “How’d it go?”

“Fine, I think. But, uhm… I told him. About me. About us. That, uh. That okay?”

Even in the dark, Steve can feel eyes on him, but he just stares ahead, opting instead to give his warm hand a squeeze. He smiles when Eddie’s thumb begins to draw patterns on his palm.

“Hmm. Very. You think they’ll be okay?”

“Yeah,” Steve breathes, stealing Eddie’s cigarette from his mouth and pulling it between his own lips. “Yeah, I think they will be.”

#steve & mike #steve harrington #mike wheeler #steddie #byler #pre-relationship byler #real hesitant to use the pairing tags tho 🥺😭#this kinda ran away from me i feel like i’m gonna have to try again with better words but here’s what i got for a first try #i write this whole 3.2k words thing tonight it is 2am i should proofread this but i have a lecture early in the morning i get 5h of sleep #(but only if i fall asleep right this instant which. ain’t happening chief. anyway uh depression era words?#dio words #and yes the bisexual light of this whole scene is important thanks for asking

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