Tumgik
#okay my vote???
badsalmonella · 1 year
Text
You know like THEEE one people would make long angry rant posts about being like "you like this character??? Don't you know they did *grocery list of problematic traits* ???" The one deemed as """the true villain of Camelot""" in those bad take posts. Yes I encourage explanations in the tags.
19 notes · View notes
shwarmii · 1 year
Text
i just heard one of my favorite youtubers say this meme out loud in a video and the pronounciation FLOORED ME so now i gotta know:
poll is just "which way do you say it"; tags is "which way is right", assuming your answer to "which way is right" is different to "which way do you say it". or i guess tags are also for uhhhhhh if your answer is complicated and if you wanna explain, if you have a diff way of pronouncing (pls tell meeeee), or whatever else you want, im not your parents, idk
2K notes · View notes
tinyarmsmcgee · 2 years
Text
YALL ARE TELLING ME YOU GUYS VOTE FOR THE OPTION YOU THINK IS WINNING INSTEAD OF JUST WHAT YOU WANT TO VOTE FOR????
6K notes · View notes
teamfortraven · 7 months
Text
Follow up-follow up-follow up post. I just spent the last 4 hours on this guys I think I have a little bit of a problem, just a small one /s but yeah here's the promised revenge bit. Man can NOT handle his own medicine.
And now I will go sleep for a billion years and eat a basket full of eggs when I awaken because mmm iron deficiency.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
588 notes · View notes
thatfaerieprincess · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
WATCHED C3e99 DOWNFALL PART 1 AND UHHH I HAVENT DRAWN FAN ART IN YEARS BUT THE MUSE REALLY SPOKE TO ME THIS TIME
Step 2 figure out how the Emissary actually looks
203 notes · View notes
tawaifeddiediaz · 1 month
Text
you know, after watching day 3 of the democratic national convention, i need to say something, especially to other muslims like me.
most of the muslim communities that i'm a part of have chosen to vote uncommitted, or independent, or sometimes, even trump. they refuse to give their vote to kamala harris and tim walz, because of the way the us has handled the war in gaza, and how they have been careless with acknowledging palestinian lives lost, how it was american bombs and american tax money that went towards funding this genocide. it's fucked up, and it's wrong, and there shouldn't be any debate on that.
and i am 100% in support of that anger. i am 100% in support of forcing america to stop funding this genocide. no one wants to keep seeing palestinian lives suffer. no one is free until we're all free, and i believe that to my very core.
my only concern is that where this anger is being placed, from 1 year to 11 weeks before the presidential election, is so scary. because the reality of the situation is that america has a bipartisan outlook. whoever gets the presidency is either democrat or republican. and every vote that doesn't go towards democracy (i.e. voting for kamala harris) inadvertently goes towards trump's big plan of project 2025, which is basically dictatorship. Even voting uncommitted, even voting independent. we cannot afford to elect trump for a second term, and voting anything other than democrat draws that line way too close, especially in swing states like michigan, pennsylvania, wisconsin, georgia.
yes, there are many issues that we wish joe biden would handle better. there are many ways that the democratic party has fucked up beyond repair. there are many ways the democratic party has refused to acknowledge the pain of people affected by their military people throughout the years, and we've been seeing it for years. this is not a new thing. this did not start on october 7th. we see it during pretty much every administration.
however, voting for your candidate should never be based on a singular issue. no political candidate is ever going to check every single box. and its so unfortunate that we have to always take the "lesser of two evils" approach when nominating our president, but that's the reality of the situation at this very moment. there are many other rights to be considered that are at stake this election, all of which trump is trying to remove. abortion bans, women's rights, healthcare, social security, climate change, to name a few.
(and, somehow, there's a belief that trump will lead to a ceasefire deal where biden-harris didn't? let me tell you that is never going to happen.)
does this mean we just stop protesting or pressuring? absolutely not. you NEVER stop, because if our votes are the ones that put the candidate in their position of power, then we expect results. we expect them to work towards what they promised. and we can't let up on reaching out to our local county offices and our state governors and escalating these issues further until someone takes notice and does something about them. we don't elect them and just leave them to do what they want. we keep them accountable. use that anger i was talking about.
but it also means not having tunnel vision. the election in november could very well mean the end of democracy if kamala harris doesn't win. this post is not me all giggly-happy over the democratic party, because trust me, i have my fair share of issues with them as well. this post isn't to tell you what to do, because i can't force you to vote blue. i can't force the community i'm in to change their minds about toss-up votes. but what i can do is put down plainly what's at stake this election. and that is, very simply, our right to choose everything.
so if you are eligible to vote and haven't registered, please do. if you haven't voted before because "what's the point", please see above what the point is. a handful of votes is enough to flip the outcome of an election, especially with the electoral college.
and if you're still on the fence on whether to vote for kamala or trump, hopefully this post gives a little bit more perspective in the most streamlined way i could manage without bogging you down with statistics and numbers.
the choice is yours.
243 notes · View notes
poorly-drawn-mdzs · 10 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Results from the ‘Who is the tallest MDZS Character poll! Thank you all for voting!
778 notes · View notes
companion-showdown · 3 months
Text
Who had the worst time aboard the TARDIS?
Tumblr media
TOURNAMENT MASTERPOST
174 notes · View notes
tittyblade · 1 year
Text
okay ive been thinking.
rb with your answer + what your interpretation of barbie/ken is
1K notes · View notes
skitskatdacat63 · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
I've decided to do myself what the cowards at Aston won't. Behold.
184 notes · View notes
qqueenofhades · 2 months
Text
Oh look. The Trump shooter was a registered Republican (and a young white man in his 20s like pretty every other mass shooter ever).
Party that endorses political violence commits more political violence, film at 11.
126 notes · View notes
tunanoodlesoup · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media
YEAHHH WOOOOOO VOX WOON AHAHJOSGSHDUOFHGSFDUGVSFFHSOHVFDS FSFWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Tumblr media
WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO AHHIFH;SUGHHDH YEYAHHHHHHHH LMFAOO BUT IN THE END.... LOVE WINS
Tumblr media Tumblr media
LMFOPSDJGFPIBDOIFDBGD I ALREADY SAW VAL X ADAM LOVE WINS ART I HOPE. I HOPE THERE IS SO MUCH STUPID ASS LUCIFER X VOX ART LMFOAOOOGGN but ill do it myself anyway (in. 5m or less) just bc its been cracking me up thinking abt doing it all day
263 notes · View notes
mooreaux · 1 year
Note
I want to pick Seven (Infamous) up by the scruff and kiss their forehead
Tumblr media
P sure u would get a mean mug like this in response anon…. But same!!!!
1K notes · View notes
magicaldreamfox1 · 11 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
kinnporsche the series as faceless gifsets: ep 11 / 14
“The main family has put you on a blacklist. Go to the safehouse. When it gets quiet, we'll decide what to do next.”
338 notes · View notes
casualavocados · 2 months
Text
im gonna break down my last gifset: the second half of the ep12 intimacy scene, because nat and louis are such good actors ive been rendered slightly braindead more than once due to how well they SOLD this scene and SOLD ai di and chen yi's love for each other through their physicality.
WARNING: if you read this and then use the words top or bottom to describe anything going on here, i will deadass block you. ♥️ don't even think about it. ♥️
this is gonna be unhinged but the mix of horny and pure adoring each other is an ever-crisscrossing line that is simply underappreciated from what ive seen in previous posts of this particular part.
so they've been making out for a while with ai di in chen yi's lap and chen yi decides to push them over… i did not cut a single frame of this btw.
starting with the first two gifs:
Tumblr media Tumblr media
i love the way ai di's hand comes to rest perfectly at the nape of chen yi's neck during the impact. then there's a brief "are we gonna kiss?" half of a second before chen yi goes for ai di's neck. and ai di responds appreciatively: with his head tilted back, his hand in chen yi's hair… you see in the second gif his fingers curling a little, to gently trail his nails down chen yi's neck, wordlessly telling chen yi to keep going. and he does, moving from ai di's neck to his chest.
and here we get a moment of ai di going oh. his mouth literally opens a little wider—
Tumblr media
—and he lifts up his head as if to check that that's really chen yi doing this to him. all the while his hand has moved from chen yi's neck/hair to rubbing chen yi's shoulder. again in a reassuring "yes that's good" way, and also, i imagine, just for the sake of touching chen yi too.
Tumblr media
he looks at chen yi and then full body relaxes into feeling it, while still rubbing chen yi's shoulder. i cant get over ai di's face here, i can't. the whole shot is art, with chen yi kissing just below his ribs.
bc chen yi is so focused on adoring him, on pouring all this love he has for ai di into these gentle kisses and the way he's touching him, too: sliding his hand up ai di's chest to grip his shoulder in return. (also notice ai di's sweatshirt from four years ago hanging up in the background. chen yi has been waiting so long for this too and needs to show it.)
and then— WELL. then ai di slides his hand back up into chen yi's hair…
Tumblr media
and chen yi responds to the feeling of it immediately. it's almost like ai di is saying yes, that's good, now come here, and you see chen yi's eyes open and his body immediately follow that cue. perfect wordless communication. ai di's hand is literally pulling him closer (with barely any pressure) and chen yi instinctively responds to it by making his way back up with another soft kiss.
and ai di is watching him, waiting for him. chen yi's hand is sliding along ai di's chest again… you even see ai di's legs open a little at the end of the gif to make room for chen yi to take that space again.
and chen yi does. he really does:
Tumblr media
and he does that on purpose. (it's like he's responding to ai di's satisfaction by saying, "let me make it feel even better". while also saying "i love you this much".)
and ai di responds by intentionally adjusting himself to feel more of it:
Tumblr media
chen yi moves back from the neck kiss and ai di really said with his body: no, don't you dare take that pressure away.
there is so much going on in those two gifs. starting with the former: you can see ai di leaning back for the neck kiss, and then his hand moves down to chen yi's hip the instant he feels the pressure between his legs, in such a perfectly instinctive movement you can literally see his fingers tighten in chen yi's hair and his toes curl at the edge of the gif. he is completely 100% feeling it. he lifts his head to look.
—& i can't get over the way ai di is always trying to see, to watch chen yi doing this to him. it's chen yi. he has to make sure it's real. he has waited for and wanted this for so long and he isnt dreaming anymore.
and then in the latter: ai di tilts his head back again a little before his shift. his very intentional shifting of hips that physically lifts his back from the bed a little to align them more comfortably and to keep the friction. this movement stops chen yi from kissing ai di's neck again, bringing him to his mouth instead— but not until after ai di's hand on the back of chen yi's neck slides down to cup his cheek. (as if this whole gif says, not only "yes, that feels good, don't stop", but also, "i need you to know i love you".)
they kiss like that: pressed together, looking at each other, ai di cradling chen yi's face with one of his hands. you can see his thumb holding the base of chen yi's jaw in the next gif:
Tumblr media Tumblr media
while chen yi in turn pulls his arm out from underneath ai di to prop (only) his chest up a bit higher for the express purpose of just looking at ai di. feeling ai di touching him like this, too. both of them gentle and needy, adoring and eager; all of that fully communicated through their body language.
there is not an inch of them that isnt feeling this moment and isnt completely tuned in to both themselves and the other. it's so intimate and vulnerable and so intentional. and the fact that they are taking their time, always looking at each other, is what makes it so loving and sweet and is also exactly what makes it so hot.
Tumblr media
it's chen yi's turn now to check that this is real. to soak this all in and breathe. that's ai di beneath him. against him. loving him.
and it takes a full gif but ai di allows maybe 2 seconds more of looking at each other before reaching up and pulling chen yi into a deeper kiss. he's waited for this for so long—
Tumblr media
although first you see ai di's eyes flick down and back up. and let me tell you— he's not looking at chen yi's lips.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
chen yi's hand perfectly supports the back of ai di's head and neck as ai di surges up to wrap chen yi in his arms—cup the nape of chen yi's neck in his fingers—pulling himself up and chen yi closer in the same movement.
and this is when and why the camera pans away. because those kisses are getting deeper. they are locked in, they're attached, they are feeling all of it, everything is intentional and loving and very clear about where this scene will be going next.
i just— this is a lot, for me. because it is so intensely loving. and also so intensely horny. like, i've seen some good sex scenes, but it takes some really incredible acting to pull off seeming so fully, devotedly, in love, and be able to show that alongside and through attraction. personally? i haven't seen any bl actors do it better than nat and louis in this scene right here. please notice, as well, that all thirteen of these gifs are of one, continuous, shot.
simply put, it's a very. very. well done scene. AND I NEED TO CHEW DRYWALL.
(final note: a reminder of my warning at the start of this post bc i am serious. there are too many infinitesimal things happening in this scene for these characters to be reduced to stereotypes that, frankly, do not matter in real life. ♥️ no need to respond to this warning either… feel free to focus on what the post is saying instead.)
and that's why chen yi and ai di are better and more real than every other bl couple in existence. ok bye.
90 notes · View notes
hawkinsindiana · 9 months
Text
here's 5.1k of the first time you see steve cry, some absolutely delicious hurt/comfort courtesy of madame @stevebabey and myself >:) PLS ENJOY
canon to almost paradise, pre s3
Tumblr media
steve doesn’t know what to do. 
his quads are starting to burn; he’s been crouched outside your window for the past couple minutes, but there’s no sign of you. not physically at least — he can hear the faint thump of some pop song echoing through the radio and an open notebook on your desk. you were here. 
he should’ve just called. this is stupid. you could be gone for another ten minutes, maybe you’re not even home anymore. he’s drumming his fingers against the sill, praying that none of your neighbors see him as he debates whether to leave or stay. he wants to stay. he needs to see you.
thirty seconds pass before steve spots movement from inside — you enter your room with a cookie wedged between your teeth and another three clasped in your hand. steve can’t help but smile; it’s ridiculous how fond he is of you. 
fond… that word doesn’t feel large enough to hold all his feelings for you, but the obvious one seems too damning—
the thought ends abruptly; the treat in your mouth helps to muffle a panicked yelp as you spot steve perched on the other side of your window. steve grimaces even though you’re beginning to laugh and you eat the entire cookie in one bite. he mouths a ‘sorry’ as you start to stride over, setting the other desserts onto your desk before lifting the window up. a burst of chilled, early march air sends a shiver down your spine. you still have crumbs on your lip. 
but your smile is wide as you greet him, your posture awkwardly bent over so you can address him eye to eye, “we have to come up with a better system than this. you end up scaring me like… seven times out of ten.”
your teasing warms steve in a way that makes him never want to leave your side. he thinks you’d let him stay there, too.
before steve gets a chance to reply, you’re offering him one of your cookies. it looks like something that your mother made and knowing claudia henderson, he’s pretty confident that means it’s extra sweet. 
“want one?” 
your voice is just above a whisper, a quiet tone that won’t be overheard by the others inside. given his fragile mental state, steve has to resist withdrawing from your affection. the thoughts in the back of his mind are screaming at him; you’re so happy to love him and share your dessert, meanwhile you’re stuck with him — someone who can’t think about saying that word to you without feeling nauseous. not because of you, but because of what could come after. 
maybe some part of what his father said has some truth to it.
but despite all of that, steve still can’t say no to you. he swallows his emotions as he takes your offering with a gracious smile — your eyes sparkle just a little bit more.
“you know i could never turn down a mrs. henderson special,” steve says with his classic charm. he sinks his teeth into the doughy cookie and nearly groans aloud; it’s still warm. this batch must be fresh. steve feels a pang in his chest thinking of your home, lively and bustling — someone’s baking, someone’s studying, music and noise in every room. it’s so starkly different from where he’s just come from.
the sweetness on his tongue isn’t enough to distract him completely from the reason he’s here, his heart desperately seeking you out. you push your window up a little more, just high enough so steve can climb through and he shoves the cookie in his mouth. bracing his hands on the sill to hoist himself up and over, he lands with a loud thump.
“shhh,” you hush, even though you still have that entirely enamored smile on. it’s impossible not to feel a little gooey whenever he does these things, no matter how much you try to contain yourself. your boyfriend sneaking through your window is just so normal and, embarrassingly, something you thought you might never get. 
you smother down a laugh at steve’s crouched position, pausing like his quietness will make up for his previous landing. when there’s no reaction, he straightens and dusts off his jacket before eating the rest of the cookie.
“oh my god,” he says, or tries to. it comes out muffled as he chews. he swallows, taking a second to run his hand through his hair before he properly turns to you, “thank god for your mom’s baking, honestly.”
you agree with a quiet hum as your smile grows more smitten. you weren’t expecting to spend any time with him tonight, much to your dismay, so this is a very welcome surprise. cupping steve’s face in between your palms, you take a moment to greet him with a kiss that he graciously returns. the chill that had seeped into his skin is quickly banished with your touch; his ears flush a bright red at how sweet and effortless your affection is. he’s so glad he came to see you.
“hey,” steve mumbles when you pull away, your eyes twinkling upon seeing his blush.
“hey yourself,” you reply, feeling your own face heat up. 
you take a couple steps backwards until your thighs hit the edge of your mattress. as you sit down, you continue playfully, “so… what did i do to deserve a visit?”
it’s an easy way to ask. not that steve ever really needs a reason to come see you — you’re that sweet on each other. but something churns uncomfortably in your gut; steve’s not the type of guy to show up without a phone call first. with your words, steve’s face darkens and it’s definitely not the last time you’re going to be disappointed about being right.
it’s now that you realize how he’s dressed. a crisp white collared shirt sits beneath his jacket and a pair of dark slacks hang from his hips. he’s forgone his usual sneakers for some dress shoes. as far as you know, he didn’t have anything this fancy after tonight’s basketball practice. your brow shifts into a minuscule furrow, small enough that it goes unnoticed — so where was he?
steve clears his throat, shoving away the tightness that formed with your question, “my, uh, my dad’s back in town.”
“that’s a surprise,” you say, shifting on top of the comforter, “i thought he wasn’t coming back until next month.”
steve doesn’t speak, but instead acknowledges the similar confusion he had felt with an annoyed expression. you cross your ankles, “and your mom?”
biting his lip, your boyfriend shakes his head. 
oh.
steve’s father is not known for being an overwhelmingly caring parent, but rather on the complete opposite end of the spectrum. he’s extremely authoritarian and blunt, with a healthy scoop of entitlement on the side. while you’ve only met him a handful of times, that man has always left you with an aching feeling inside your chest and a wrinkle between your brow; you can’t imagine how steve feels. and considering his mother isn’t here, you know his father’s abrasiveness will be ten times worse, not that her presence has ever stopped him before.
you pray that steve’s night went better than expected, but you can already tell that thought is in vain. there’s a defeated look in his eyes and a familiar weariness in his posture. he looks lost.
like a flashlight in the dark, you extend your hands out to him, beckoning steve to come closer still. he slides his palms into yours almost instantaneously, as if waiting another second would’ve been too difficult for him to bear. he swears the place where your skin meets glows like the evening sun, golden and overwhelmingly warm — a feeling that grows as you gently guide him to your bed. you offer a small and comforting smile as the mattress dips under his added weight; he keeps one of your hands in his. 
steve knows you don’t expect him to say anything — he could sit here in silence and you’d gladly indulge him. but he decides that’s not the reason why he came here.
“he was in a rush when i got home. he made dinner reservations for tonight and barely got here in time after his flight,” steve begins, regretfully pulling his eyes from you to focus blankly on the floor, “think i had maybe ten minutes to shower and get dressed.”
he sighs, dragging his hand down his face as he tries to focus on your warmth beside him, “he was just… worse. angrier, louder, more…”
he pauses to try and think of another word to describe his father’s demeanor but finds himself distracted by your grip on his hand, soft yet firm. constant. he gives up, moving his free hand through the air in a dejected motion but you understand perfectly — more of everything. 
you tut softly, using your fingers to brush some hair behind his ear before pressing a kiss to his cheek.
“i’m sorry, steve,” you pout, “that sounds awful.”
steve hums a thank you, relishing in the combination of your touch and soft words. having you in his life has made such a difference; it’s hard to imagine what it’d be like without you. the loneliness he would feel… he can barely comprehend it.
you know steve well. there’s a restrained rage that hides just underneath his skin. he’s not telling you everything.
“how…” you trip over your words a little as your fury begins to build. not because of him, but because of how insistent steve’s father is with being cruel. he’s the one who taught steve to doubt himself. it makes you blood boil to think the fire may’ve been stoked tonight.
“how was it? did he say something to you?”
there it is again — the tickle in the back of steve’s throat that he can’t seem to get rid of no matter how hard he tries. it grows after hearing the concern in your tone, the anger on his behalf. he nods once, voice far weaker and wobblier than he would like, “yeah.”
the word sinks into your chest, a deep claw right between your ribs. it aches, all from the way he says it. you’ve seen steve upset before but this… this is something bigger than that. this is a deep wound, one that isn’t easily healed.
but you’re willing to try. you’ll do anything to help him.
giving your palm a quick squeeze, steve reaches for his collar with his free hand as he tries to get his thoughts in order. it’s something you’ve seen him do a thousand times when he’s growing uncomfortable or upset — fiddling with the neckline to give him space to breathe. but it’s only when he tugs on something else do you notice he’s also wearing a tie.
it’s twisted and messy and you wonder if he’s been yanking on it all night. as he tries to work the fabric free, it’s fruitless, his rough motions only succeeding in rubbing the fabric cruelly against his neck. steve grows more frustrated every second, his voice low, “god, fuck—this stupid thing, fuck—”
“hey, hey. here, let me help,” you interrupt, grabbing his wrist to rescue himself from his futile efforts. he’s far too worked up and his fussing is only tightening the knot. steve huffs loudly and surrenders, emotions still running too high and you guide his hand away.
his focus turns to you and steve visibly softens, his shoulders slumping enough that he shrinks a whole inch. he blinks rapidly, his eyes turning away from you again; you decide to focus on the tie.
it’s twisted up, you realize, because it hasn’t been tied properly in the first place. steve knows how to knot a tie — you’d seen him do it many times before. you ignore the worry this fills you with and steel yourself. it’s a fickle thing but you manage, pulling at the tie until the knot finally comes free. the fabric slithers down his chest and you follow it with your palm, a soothing touch.
when your eyes drift back up to his pout, you watch as a single tear falls onto the swell of his cheek. your hand reaches for his face before he gets a chance to move; the tear is quickly removed by the pad of your thumb without a second thought. steve bows his head, hoping to obscure some of this emotion from you, but you won’t let him. you shift as well, eyes desperately searching his face. 
“what happened?” you whisper, a gentle coax to see if he wants to talk. if he shakes his head, you’ll leave it. your heart aches profusely as you watch a deep sadness work its way across his face but worst of all, you can tell he’s holding back. it’s almost like he can’t bear to look at you, as if seeing the worry in your expression would push him over the edge. you care about him so much it’s nearly overwhelming; steve can’t remember a time when he mattered this much to someone — where even the hint of a cry was met with an outpouring of love.
you return your hand to his, squeezing gently. your voice is so soft he can barely hear it, “it’s okay, steve. you can— you know i won’t…”
you drift off, struggling to find the most eloquent words. how do you tell your boyfriend he can cry around you without having to actually tell him that?
you swallow the lump in your throat and move your eyes to his hair, taking your fingers and running them through the brunette strands. suddenly, you feel quite nervous yourself.
“i’m still gonna love you.”
a whimper slips out of his throat.
a noise has never broken you so quickly. instantly, you’re kicking your feet up onto the bed to lean into him properly, winding an arm around him and resting your head on his shoulder.
as another tear falls, it seems like it’s followed by hundreds. years of anger and complicated emotions come pouring out into steve’s hands, his face buried in his palms. the only thing you can think to do is sit here and let him cry, a comforting touch placed on both his back and his thigh, reminding him that you’re still here with him. you’re not planning on going anywhere.
“he always says the same stuff so i’m used to it now,” he finally says, pulling his hands away from his face to see his skin wet and stained with tears. he shakes his head in disbelief, relishing in the feeling your warmth brings beside him, until it reminds him of something else. with a clenched jaw, he sniffles, completely defeated, “it’s the shit he said about you that just… pushed it over the edge. i mean—”
steve manages a small laugh, “it’s you. how… how could i not let that get to me? you’re everything and i—”
you try not to let his words affect you but there’s no helping the ripple that shudders across your face, a whirlwind of the worst of your ugly emotions. inside you, there’s a part that wonders constantly about just how much trouble you’re worth — first it was billy and all the shit he’s brought with him, and now steve’s father. you’re ashamed how strongly you feel that perhaps steve would be better off without you, no matter how much he swears it’s worth it, which he does even now as he sobs in your bedroom. the common theme of you, ill-fitted to be in his life, is beginning to wear down on your soul. tonight, it chafes particularly meanly.
but you’re tough. this moment isn’t about you. inhaling sharply, you swallow and it feels like it’s full of nails — the lump instantly regrows when you notice steve stopped speaking and watched your reaction closely. his wet eyes grow mistier and misery seeps into his face, a choked noise forcing its way up his throat. steve smothers it into his hand.
“i’m sorry,” he croaks.
your heart weeps. what is he sorry for? the hand on his back sweeps up, a gentle touch on his head. you brush back his hair, thumbing softly beneath his eyes to brush away the stray tears.
“what’re you apologizing for?” you say low and soft, willing away the wobble in your voice as steve searches your face almost desperately. his eyes look lost. his curled form resembles a child, awoken from a cruel night terror. you ache to help him, to ease the burden.
“s’not your fault,” you assure him in a whisper, pressing closer. your words have the opposite effect, worry hiking a mile high when steve crumbles again — he sags, burying his face in the curve of your neck.
“i’m sorry, i— i’m so sorry,” his words come out all hiccup-y, his breathing too fast and ragged. your arms are around him in an instant, grounding and safe as you pull him in closer. your chin rests on top of his head. steve’s arms shift, wrapping around your middle desperately — his fingers grip tight like you might slip away if he loosened his hold for even a moment. twisted together, steve cries and cries, an endless stream of apologies. you refuse to let it deter you; one hand settles on the back of his head, soothing the hair on the nape of his neck. the other rubs up and down his back, all while you murmur soft assurances for him to hear.
“s’okay, you’re okay,” you say over and over again, working diligently to sooth him, “i’m here, it’s okay.”
steve wishes he knew what he was apologizing for, but part of him understands he’s saying sorry for everything. i’m sorry for mentioning my father finds pleasure in despising you, the only thing that’s ever brought me true happiness. i’m sorry for arriving unannounced. i’m sorry i can’t say ‘i love you’ yet. for the rumors. for your nightmares. for being less than you deserve. for everything we’ve been through together. all of it — a culmination. 
several minutes pass before steve’s breathing reaches a regular rhythm and the tears stop all together. his grip on you relaxes over time, slowly understanding that you stayed despite his outburst; his fingers unfurl from the fabric of your shirt. steve sniffles once more, now noticing how tear-stained your clothes have become — more guilt climbs up his throat. it never comes to fruition; instead, he finds himself focusing on the soothing pressure of your touch. the feeling melts away. you shift to press a kiss into the crown of his head. with your nose still buried in his hair, you speak.
“stay here tonight. please.”
your hold on him tightens a bit more, your eyes watering as you think of him returning to his father and away from any comfort you can bring him, “i don’t want you going back there. not tonight.”
somehow, steve manages to burrow deeper into your skin, his arms around you squeezing comfortably. more light blooms in him as the intention behind your words trickles down into his heart — you are his home now. he nods weakly, swallowing the pain for another time. right now, he simply feels like resting in your embrace.
“okay.”
“yeah?” you ask, slowly beginning to unfurl yourself from him; you want to see his face. with a bit of coaxing, you gently guide his head away from his hiding place and smile softly, wiping the leftover tears from his cheeks. upon seeing the care for him in your eyes, he can’t help but confirm, his hands smoothing down along your back in appreciation.
“yeah.”
he's beautiful, even when he's a mess. the tip of his nose is a ruddy red and it's running terribly. tears cling to his eyelashes, sparkling beneath the low-light lamp of your room. you press a quick kiss to his temple, same as you've done a thousand times before, and lean backward. your touch never leaves him as you locate your tissue box, steve sniffling loudly as you grab a dozen.
in an attempt to either make him smile or feel extra loved, you hold one in front of his nose and say, "blow?"
"gimme those," steve guffaws, his free hand coming up to snatch them from your grip. he blows his nose and it toots noisily like a trumpet, making you laugh. he sounds a bit nasally when he speaks again, his eyes fond as he looks at you.
"can blow my own nose, thank you."
you nod with a soft hum just to tease him. he blows his nose once again, clearing it all out and takes the other tissues when you offer them, scrubbing at his waterlogged face. he smiles gratefully at you and then heaves a great big sigh, shoulders rising and falling, before he slumps backwards to lie back on your bed.
"who knew crying was so exhausting?" he mumbles, the question meant more to himself.
you scoop up one of his feet and plant it in your lap, beginning to undo his laces. you can’t say you like his fancy shoes.
"i did," you jibe back. you poke his ankle, aiming for one of his moles, "why'd you think i'm always napping in your arms after i bawl my eyes out?" 
steve watches your hands, sliding his shoe off and moving onto the other dutifully. you're making him more comfortable and you do it without even being asked. another wave of tears threatens him again because you love him like it's easy — steve has spent most of his life being told the exact opposite.
"thought that was more to do with my, y’know, rugged arms than the crying part..." he admits jokingly, thankful when it makes you giggle a bit. you shrug, faking indifference but it earns you a smile. 
after you finish taking off his other shoe, you place his feet down so you can crawl up to him. you stop and settle with your chin on his chest and steve has to put a hand behind his head to prop himself up to properly see you. you're quietly in thought, staring at him intensely. steve feels his heart quiver — you're awfully good at reading him. at seeing him and knowing him.
"d'you wanna talk about it? what… what he said?" your words come out soft again, low as a whisper, even though it's just the two of you here. 
another sigh leaves steve, your head on his chest moving with the exhale. he glances up to the ceiling as he contemplates whether or not he wants to continue this conversation. upon meeting your eyes, he knows you'll do nothing but listen. his free hand drops to your arm, fingers lovingly curling around your bicep.
"it was mostly the same shit, like i said," steve shrugs in both acceptance and defeat, "so usually i can just stay quiet. it doesn't get to me as much if i don't try to fight it, y'know?"
you hum softly in understanding, gaze still locked on his expression as he pauses to nibble on his bottom lip.
"except this time, he uh..." steve expels another deep breath as he thinks back on what was said and his reaction. he scoffs, "well, he's definitely figured out what we are, that's for sure."
he ends his sentence with a slight laugh and a squeeze to your muscle. adorably, you grin and roll your head to the side; steve swears he can feel you blush with your cheek pressed to his chest.
"that's one less person we gotta tell i guess."
steve chuckles and you do too, both of you happy to find some humor in this god awful circumstance. but the joy is short-lived as he recalls the dinner; the delight in his father's eyes at finally finding his son's breaking point, how steve's food grew cold as his appetite quickly left him. he could eat another ten of your mom's cookies. then the familiar anger begins to bubble up again — he clenches down on his teeth.
"i could've punched him, baby. i... fuck, i should've," he mutters, his head shaking slightly in disbelief, remembering the absolute fury that controlled him in those tense moments. it's just like it was that night at the byers — maybe worse than that, if it’s even possible. 
first, there was a comment about how you’re his only friend now. it was said with such a disgusted tone that steve had to take offense — his father made it sound like befriending you was somehow affecting his reputation. apparently the henderson name doesn’t carry enough weight around town, and what it does carry isn’t something the harringtons should be associated with. as if it matters to steve — he’d rather be accepted by your family than anyone else in this stupid town.
but as steve finally fought back to defend you, it became clear what steve’s true feelings for you entail. he’s never defended anyone from his father’s wrath.
halfway through you being compared to nancy wheeler — “now she comes from a good american family” — steve realized that his father knows. 
he’s not sure who told him or how much he heard, but it hit steve harder than billy’s punch did. one little comment about your ‘promiscuity’ was all he needed to confirm the suspicion. it took every ounce of willpower steve had in him to not choke out his father with the tablecloth.
something steve's learning is the intense grip you have on his emotions — both the positive and negative ones. he's sure that's not entirely healthy but he could care less. he never wants that passion for you to disappear. 
steve continues, "and yeah, yeah, i know he's just trying to get a rise outta me but jesus christ..."
silence follows as he trails off, refusing to tell you any more. you don’t deserve to hear any of that repeated. you're still studying steve, eyes drifting along the slopes of his face to catch any sign of another tear. thankfully, he seems fairly composed this time around — frustration taking the place of his sadness. but when he meets your gaze again, it softens back into gratitude and affection. neither of you are able to look away.
steve's hand moves up to your face, his fingers deftly tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear; his voice is overflowing with fondness, "pretty sure you're my carbonite."
you, however, do not react as he expected. your face instantly wrinkles in confusion, propping yourself up as you try to decipher what he means. some mixture of a scoff and a laugh leaves your lips as you realize what he meant. he's lucky you find it endearing.
"steve, it's kryptonite, not carbonite."
"that's the same word."
you giggle again, “no it’s not—”
“they end with the same sound, it’s close enough,” steve bickers back, “besides, you understood what i said anyways.”
a sigh leaves your lips as you meet his eyes, your cheeks aching from how wide your grin is, “i did, but how about i be the one who makes the nerdy references in this relationship.”
steve raises his hands, “hey, you’re not gonna hear me complain’.”
another laugh from you. steve’s expression shifts back to one of affection, “i mean it though, y’know. you have this… hold on me that i’m still trying to figure out. it’s crazy. you know any non-nerdy words to describe that?”
you hum and nod, your smile wistful. your chest tightens.
“yeah, i think i do.”
the look in your eyes gives away the answer. steve swallows — his mouth suddenly feels extremely dry.
to combat any awkwardness before it begins, you immediately get up to grab the other cookies you’d forgotten about. you share them between you, careful not to get too many crumbs on your bed. while steve dutifully watches, you take another twenty minutes to finish your physics homework before you begin your typical bedtime routine. 
coming back after your shower to see your boyfriend shirtless and comfortable beneath your blankets is not a sight you will be forgetting anytime soon. as you crawl into bed with him, it takes a ridiculous amount of self control not to stare at the thatch of chest hair that’s been growing over the past couple months. he’s so warm and has a pink tint in his cheeks that makes you swoon; you decide that he looks positively adorable. 
as you settle in beside him after adjusting the pillows and turning out the light, you can’t help but pick at his thoughts. 
“you gonna be okay?”
steve nods, his hair mussing against the pillow, “yeah, i don’t give a shit about what he says.”
now that his emotions are back to their regular balance, he’s much more indifferent. he can see it clearly and understands that none of it is his fault. there’s nothing steve can do to prevent how his father feels; that isn’t a burden he needs to carry.
he shifts beneath the covers, his leg finding yours. your feet are chilly. he smiles as he reaches out for you, tucking one of his arms beneath the pillows so he can pull you in closer. steve curls the other around your torso, his palm laying flat against your back while you tangle your legs together. it’s awfully snug and you’re sure he can feel your heart pounding.
“i’ll be alright as long as i have you,” he mumbles, taking a moment to let his eyes gently rove over your face. you force yourself to hold back your smile so you don’t look like a total dork, but it’s awfully difficult. you figure you probably look positively in-love regardless.
“well, it’s a good thing i’m not planning on going anywhere, hm?”
steve seals the sentiment with a kiss — the best way he knows to ensure you’re confident that he feels the same. he lets the tips of your noses touch after pulling away and brings his palm up to your face. his eyes are almost jet black in the dark; only a sliver of chocolate brown remains, thanks to the streetlight outside your window.
“thank you,” he whispers, “for everything.”
your body heats up from both his touch and his words. it’s almost too much for you to handle. but you answer him all the same and with a genuine smile, “of course. any time.”
with a final kiss to your forehead, steve properly cuddles you in close to him, his nose buried into your hair. as you curl your arm around him, inhaling the scent of his cologne, rest finds you both soon after.
363 notes · View notes