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j2h5b5 · 1 year

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There was only one thing that could have dragged Steve out of bed at two in the morning when he was nursing a booze-induced headache and an Eddie Munson-induced heartache.

“We need you,” she said.

He didn’t even bother putting on a jacket.

***

Dustin was sloppy, red-eyed and so unsteady that when Steve thunked a strong hand down on his shoulder, he almost lost his balance turning away from the group of asshats he’d taken up with to see who had grabbed him. Some of the drink in his hand sloshed over the sides of the cup and dribbled down the front of his shirt and onto the already filthy kitchen floor.

“Hey, what the—” he began, and then he dragged his gaze up to land on Steve.

There was a time, not so very long ago, when those same eyes would’ve lit up at the sight of his babysitter slash idol slash best friend. He would wrap him in a hug if it had been a day or two since he’d seen him, or sling a companionable arm around him, or punch him good-naturedly in the arm in hopes of initiating a play scuffle, which inevitably ended with him in a headlock getting his mop of curls aggressively tousled because he was just never going to have any kind of athletic edge on Steve.

But now.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” the younger boy asked in a tone so sharp and cold and so very NOT-Dustin that it made Steve’s heart squeeze painfully in his chest.

“Hey, man,” Steve said, aiming for casual if only to keep Dustin from embarrassing himself in front of his new asshat friends. “Can I talk to you? Step outside with me for a sec, okay?”

“Um, no,” Dustin bit out. “This’s my party, i'ss my house. It would be rude to leave my guests.”

“Yeah, since you brought that up … who are these people?” Steve swept his gaze over the Henderson kitchen, which was almost unrecognizable with all of the clutter, displaced furniture, and wasted teenagers. “And Dustin … where’s your mom?”

“Not here.”

“Well yeah, I kind of gathered that. Listen, Dust…”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Are the others here?”

“Oh, you mean the traitors who called and ratted me out to YOU? Who the fuck cares?” His voice lowered to what he seemed to think was a conspiratorial level but was really just an extremely loud stage whisper. “Maybe they tripped and fell and landed their buzzkill asses back in the Upside Down.”

“Okay, that’s it.”

Before Dustin could protest, the cup was plucked from his hand and tossed expertly across the room, over the heads of several unwary drunken youths and into the crusty-dish-crowded sink and he was being towed along behind Steve through the kitchen, the living room, out the front door.

“What the fuck, Harrington? Let go of me! Let go!” Dustin struggled against the vise grip on his bicep but only succeeded in ensuring he’d probably have finger-shaped bruises there tomorrow.

Steve paid him no mind until he had deposited the boy into the passenger seat of his car, slammed the door, and locked it. Then he walked around to the driver’s side, unlocked it only long enough to get in, relocked it, and turned to Dustin.

“First of all,” he began loudly, drowning out Dustin’s sputtering attempts to find the words he wanted to hurl at Steve in his outrage at being manhandled out of his own party. “First of all. Joking about the Upside Down in a room full of strangers? NOT OKAY.”

“They don’t even know what—”

“Not. Fucking. Okay. SECOND, if you ever imply again that one of ours should BE in the Upside Down, you will find yourself with my foot so far up your ass you’ll choke on my shoe, and if you think I’m joking about that, Dustin, try me.”

This time there was only an eye-roll from Dustin, because he kind of didn’t want to try Steve on that point and because he kind of felt bad about saying it.

“Third, your friends are not traitors. They care about you and they’re worried about you; they called me for help because you’re treating them like shit and shut down every attempt they make to help you. Listen, I know I’m not your favorite person right now, Dustin, but you have to let someone help you. You’re not okay, buddy. This isn’t you. And all this shit you’re doing, the drinking and the partying and the pretending not to give a damn? It isn’t going to fix anything. It … it won’t bring him back.”

“Shut up!” Dustin shouted, flinching so hard at the words that he smacked the back of his head against the side window. Steve winced at the sound of skull meeting glass and resisted the urge to reach out and check for blood, or a bump. Dustin seemed not to have noticed that he’d nearly brained himself, infusing his next words with all the venom he could muster. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, Steve. Even if you were right, it’s none of your business what I do! I am none of your business.”

“Don’t say shit like that, Dustin. Of course you’re my business.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah! What are you saying?”

Dustin barked out a humorless laugh. “As much as I’d like to sit here with you and have a heart to heart right now, I have to get back to my guests.”

“No,” Steve snapped, reaching over Dustin to slap down the peg lock when the teen yanked it up. “We’re not done here. Now I can go inside and clear out your house and we can talk there, or you can drop the bullshit and talk to me right now.”

“You’re not shutting down my party.”

“Then we talk here.”

“I have nothing to say to you.”

“Right, sure you don’t. Maybe I can give you some words, then. How about this, Dustin? How about: ‘Hey, Steve, you useless idiot loser, you promised to keep us safe and then you fucked it all up like you always do. The plan didn’t work and Max got hurt and Eddie fucking died, and you couldn’t stop it. I hate you for that, for lying and making us feel safe and telling us it was going to be okay. I can’t even look at you anymore and I hate my friends because they don’t hate you for some reason, but we know, don’t we? We know whose fault it is that we came back a man short. It’s yours, Steve. Yours.’” Steve’s voice was cracked and painful, like he’d been eating gravel and chasing it with cheap whisky and cigarettes. It hurt, that voice. “How’s that, Dust?” he finished, staring unflinching into Dustin’s shocked eyes. “Am I in the ballpark?”

Before Steve could react, Dustin unlocked his door and flung himself out of the car. He was drunk and it was dark, though, and he only made it a few yards before tripping and landing hard on the grass. Steve was on him almost instantly, hauling him up by the arms and scanning him for injuries.

He didn’t see the punch coming, wouldn’t have believed Dustin Henderson capable of such an effective hit, right in the mouth, knocking him back a couple of feet. “Jesus, Dustin!” he shouted, touching his lip and staring dumbfounded when his fingers came away wet with blood. “What the fuck, man?”

“Hit me back.”

“What? No! Dustin, what’s—”

“HIT ME BACK, STEVE! You have to!” Dustin’s voice cracked, the sudden violent burst of emotion threatening to unleash something big and scary and unforgivable. A tidal wave that had a name.

Steve grappled wildly with the boy, trying to grab his flailing arms so he could pin him, but Dustin was surprisingly swift in his current state, and he launched another punch, this one landing heavy in Steve’s gut and socking the breath right out of him.

“HIT ME, STEVE! I KNOW YOU WANT TO, JUST DO IT!”

Fueled by a burst of frustration and a sharper burst of fear (what is this?), Steve recovered enough to trap Dustin’s arms against his body, using his own weight to twist the boy around until he was trapped with his back against Steve, the hold immobilizing him so all he could do was squirm and shout out his fury. “LET ME GO FUCK YOU STEVE WHY WON’T YOU JUST FIGHT BACK YOU ASSHOLE?!”

“Dustin, stop. Stop it. Breathe, Dustin. Take a breath. No, hey, stop. You’re not going anywhere until you calm down for me. Breathe. Shhh, buddy. Breathe,” Steve’s hold was unbudging, his tone stern but soothing. Dustin’s violent struggles gradually slowed, and it took a couple of minutes for Steve to realize that the boy was shaking with silent sobs. And then the sobs became words, almost indecipherable in the wrecked, wretched voice that was rough and strained from screaming.

Every sentence Steve parsed from the stream of horrible self-accusations added another crack to his heart, which couldn’t have been more than a mess of spiderwebbing at this point.

It’s my fault.

He’s dead because of me.

I couldn’t save him.

You loved him, I know you did.

Why don’t you hate me?

Finally, finally, the words stopped and Dustin sagged, exhausted, in Steve’s arms. Only then did Steve ease up on his hold, but only long enough to turn the boy around and hug him properly. He bent down to bury his face in the unruly curls, his own tears falling unchecked and inconsequential.

“Dustin,” he whispered into the mop of hair. “Oh, Dustin, never.”

And when he realized he didn’t have the right words, he just stopped. He just picked Dustin up and carried him to his car, buckled him into the passenger seat, and told him he would be right back. He had a party to break up, some kids to chase away, and a boy—his boy—to mend.

“You loved him, I know you did.”

With a soul-cleansing breath that sounded more like a sob, Steve made his way back up to the Hendersons’ house.

#stranger things #found family #protective steve harrington #mama steve #dustin henderson #fanfiction #steddie #mom steve harrington #steve harrington #steve and his children #grieving over Eddie #survivor guilt #poor dustin #poor steve #unhealthy coping mechanisms #arm wrestling for the blame #angst #oh the angst #in my heart Eddie survived but this scene wouldn’t leave me alone

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torukmaktoskxawng · 5 months

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Keep scrolling if you blame Spider

Spider, who is literally still a child by human standards.

Spider, who never gave away Jake's or the Omatikaya's location.

Spider, who cares about the Sullys' safety over his own.

Spider, who didn't want any blood on his hands or a guilty conscience if he left someone to die.

Spider, who just didn't want anyone else to get hurt.

Spider, who never betrayed the Na'vi (unlike Jake but hey, who's counting that, right?)

Spider, who had to fend for himself to survive the toughest events because he didn't have an adult who would tear the world apart for him like the Sully children do.

Spider, who loves Pandora and Eywa.

Spider, who just wanted to be one of Her children because he never knew what it was like for a mother to love him.

Spider, who probably understands Eywa's whole "balance of life" meaning more than others.

Spider, who already lost Neteyam but he couldn't afford to lose anyone else in his life, no matter how terrible they are as a person.

Spider, who helped Jake save Kiri and Tuk when everyone else was still too shocked to move.

Spider, who chose mercy over violence/death.

Spider, who did what he could to survive (I'd like to see how YOU would react under such pressure. It all seems obvious and easy watching from the other side of the screen, right?)

Spider, who was likely being misled, brainwashed, and gaslit by the Recoms.

Spider, who is clearly a victim but hey, let's blame him for simply being a decent human being, right?

Spider, who likely thought he owed Quaritch after he saved him from being tortured.

Spider, who likely thought he owed Quaritch for giving him life.

Spider, who just wanted a father who was proud of him.

Spider, who has been clearly neglected by the heroes (Jake and Neytiri) but doesn't openly or verbally blame them.

Spider, who doesn't purposely threaten children's lives like Quaritch and Neytiri do.

Spider, who just wanted to be one of the People.

Spider, who wouldn't have made those difficult choices had he been properly loved and raised.

Spider, who is as easy to blame as Lo'ak for endangering the people they love (but again, no one's counting, right?)

Spider, who is clearly not a villain, just misunderstood.

Spider, who wasn't raised by the village but didn't burn it down to feel its warmth because he's not petty, not vindictive, not evil, and not a killer.

Spider, who is. A. Child.

#i am sick of seeing the exact same comments on tiktok #sick and tired of always see “its spiders fault”#like what???#no one blames jake for betraying the na'vi but think what he did was better than what spider did #thats fucking crazy #ppl holding the labeled heroes up on a pedestal but forget that spider was literally the one who sunk that ship #ppl praising jake and neytiri for the same things they blame spider for #i hope no one is out there bullying jack champion for portraying a fictional character they simply dont like cause “its his fault”#and yes i understand neytiri went through a lot of trauma and pain #that doesnt excuse harming a child to harm his father #neytiri deserves love and support but so does spider #everyone who says otherwise is a hypocrite #neytiri didnt need to have to stoop to quaritch's level and hurt a child but she did #i hope at least kiri holds her accountable in the future because i would resent my mom for hurting someone i loved #spider avatar #atwow spider #spider soccoro #miles spider socorro #avatar 2 #avatar the way of water #atwow #avatar 2009 #avatar #james cameron avatar #james cameron #miles quaritch #neytiri te tskaha mo'at'ite #jake sully #neytiri sully #no one blames lo'ak for getting his siblings captured BOTH times but ppl will blame spider for letting his father live is crazy

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yamujiburo · 1 year

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If Jessie and Delilah ever decide to have a child, who’s carry the baby? But that’s only if they decide to have a baby.

But if that’s not happening, what about adoption? And how would Ash and James react?

I mentioned it before somewhere else but someone asked a similar question and I said Jessie! Just because I figure Delia's already "been there, done that and doesn't want to do again" haha. i drew the kiddos too

i have unfortunately thought about all this stuff but it will never see the light of day because IM TRYING TO HAVE RESTRAINT. i've always done next gen stuff and fankids (it's literally how i started online lol). trying to avoid my old tendencies and focus on new stuff! there's already a lot of fun to be had in this hanamusa au with the already established characters. don't wanna throw that all aside for stuff i've already kinda done hehe

#ask yam #i blame the baby fever #i like cannot wait to be a mom #so i just keep projecting that on all my favorite characters and i need to stop lmaooo

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wherenymphsroam · 4 months

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52 :3

And can I also kiss you?? 😭

52: “Can I kiss you?”

prompt game :^)

⟡ cw: mentions of withdrawals, struggles with alcoholism, depression, specifically soggy wet cat vendetta leon but can be read with damnation leon in mind :3

⟡ a/n: YES we are smooching, i am kissin u on the mouf rn 🤍

“Can I kiss you?”

What the hell was he saying.

One minute, he’s trembling over a plate of eggs and pancakes back at the hotel, and now he’s barely holding himself back from slumping against your shoulder like an old dog. You had insisted on dragging his miserable ass out of there, told him to get his shit together. That you were going for a ride, and he should hang on.

(Of course he was too stubborn to let you drive, no matter the fact that he had already put down half a bottle this morning.)

So despite his better judgement, he allowed you pull him away from those four walls that were his hotel room, all under the promise that it’d still be there when he got back.

Sure, he didn’t want to leave. If his hangover had anything to say about it, he’d be tucked back under the covers of that shitty, scratchy duvet in the fetal position. His head was pounding. But sat here on this stoop tucked away into the mountains, overlooking the small town he had sought out to lick his wounds within, the cool breeze sweeps away some of the tension in his facial features. The fresh air has coaxed that stress out of his shoulders, loosened him up in a way alcohol hadn’t managed to in years.

But maybe it was you.

You, tucked against his side, thumbing slow circles into the back of his palm. The scent of your shampoo drifting through the breeze that passes his nose that has his heart rate slowing. Honestly, he didn’t want to pull this apart. Whether it was the fresh air or you by his side that had him relaxing for the first time in months (years?), it didn’t matter. Because he asked a stupid question, and he doesn’t really feel like taking it back.

“Leon, you’re drunk,” you scoff, shaking your head. As if kissing your superior was such a far fetched idea. Or maybe you just didn’t want to kiss him. He couldn’t blame you, he’s not sure he even bothered to pack a toothbrush when he sought out a direct flight to Colorado.

“I’m the most sober I’ve been in weeks, right now.”

In his defense, he was telling the truth. After arriving at that run down mug, he had made it his mission to slug back as much as he could before he had to leave. Because he knew this was coming — whether in the form of a text message detailing his next deployment, or with the arrival of military personnel — and he had stuck it to himself to ignore it for as long as possible. Started digging that hole of sweet silence into his subconscious the second he got his room key.

And yet…. Here he was. Sobered up and wanting. Forced to face the sad reality that he was lonely, damn it.

Alright, universe, you win. He’ll admit it. Why else would you be playing with his head like this? Those eyes, deep as the ocean, bright as the stars. Pretty lips that fill out so delicately, cheeks that look softer than anything he’s felt in months. You were the embodiment of something a man like him didn’t deserve, and no withdrawal could create the guttural rawness of the wound this reality inflicted on him.

You weren’t a daydream, and you weren’t an illusion. You were tangible, distantly so. And after having been dragged back down to earth, he needed something stronger than what was in his flask.

Chancing a glance over at him, it’s clear you’re debating with yourself. Your teeth tucking that sweet bottom lip under them, plush in how it swells ever so slightly under the pressure. Lashes fluttering when you search his features. He was definitely in better shape than you had found him this morning, silverware clinking and wobbling in his unsteady grip.

The sight almost made you want to slip them from his hands, cut his food up for him like a doting mother. Maybe guide a few bites past his lips like some guilt ridden caregiver, anything to bring some color back to his cheeks.

But you’d never say that out loud.

“… I believe you,” you hum, gaze shifting back up from the dip of his cupids bow. A shitty cover to ignore how you had just wondered how that scruff over it would feel against your mouth. “Just don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Yeah?” He dryly laughs, short and null of any real humor. “Just like how joining this god forsaken organization wasn’t either, right?”

Silence. Thick, drawn out.

Few people knew just how Leon ended up in the DSO, landed himself in such a comfortable place with the higher ups. And fewer knew why he stayed. It’s hard to really respond to that when you’re not part of that statistic.

“I’m sorry,” you find yourself muttering softly, turning away again. Shifting your focus back out to gaze over the town below, the traffic flow of patrons returning home, shops turning off lights.

“Don’t be. I’m being a dick right now.”

Leon forgot how snippy he could be during withdrawals nowadays. Made him feel like an overgrown baby, still stuck in his oral phase. That flask in his pocket might as well have become a pacifier, anything to keep him from spinning off the handle.

“You’re acting like one, yeah. Doesn’t make you one.”

Pausing, Leon glances at you, follows the line of your side profile for a moment. Studies the line of your nose, the slope of your top lip. Down and over the jut of your chin, the retreat of your jaw. He wanted to follow that track with the bridge of his nose, maybe press his lips to the hollow of your throat.

Fuck. Maybe he wasn’t nearly as sober as he thought.

Clearing his throat, he shakes his head, glances out in the general direction you’re looking in. Can’t help how he finds similarities between the slopes of the mountains and your face.

“I’m glad you think so.”

#HIIIII um sowwy I used this prompt as a punching bag :3 #me when pathetic depressed men: YIIPPEEEEE !!!!!!#blaming my moms poor choices of boyfriends in my formative years fr 💪#yaps. ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚#fairies. 𐦍 #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #vendetta leon x reader #resident evil x reader #resident evil imagines

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ovaruling · 7 months

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maybe a hot take but please don’t have or stop having children if you have an active eating disorder/body dysmorphia (including binge eating, not just restrictive disorders). seriously

thinking you’ll be the exception (because you’re So self-aware, unlike those Other disordered women) and won’t give your dysmorphia/eating disorder to your child is pride before a very slow and terrible fall

it never ever works. you’re never ever immune. i mean, such a huge reason of why there are so many of us now is bc our moms thought the same thing lmfao. didn’t matter how well-intentioned they were. no matter how much they tried to separate Their Problems from Ours. here we fucking are

i know it’s not women’s fault to begin with, but the reality is that those of us affected do incubate, nurture, and pass on the virus in the Current Way of Things

the buck needs to stop here. this isn’t a game. think of all the things your mother probably thought she was expertly hiding from you that you still picked up on and were profoundly affected by in a terrible and formative way. it will happen to you, too. don’t think it won’t.

if you know that you’re not solidly and confidently recovered, you have a responsibility to stop that buck and not actively attempt to create a child who will observe, mimic, internalize, adopt, and inherit your lifelong life-ruining behavior. the selfishness is breathtaking honestly

#eating disorders are one of the most treatment-resistant behavioral issues out there #once they take firm root #this is not quite the same as ‘don’t have children if you’re even a little bit mentally ill’ btw before anyone thinks it is #this is a very specific problem #and it is LEARNED #you cant always protect your child from the outside world influence but you can do something about what your child starts with at home #i am recovered now but i could’ve saved my whole life if my mom hadn’t been dieting when i was 7 #so i started dieting too #bc she was my mom and i did what she did #cuz i was fucking 7 #she never told me what a diet was. i just observed her.#and when she binged EYE binged #i blame her always for my food addiction

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mosquito-queen · 2 years

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max wake up, i don’t like this

#when you’re in the hospitals and your moms read your fave comics to you #nancy blaming herself when she finds out about max #‘i wasn’t there when she needed me’#robin comforting nancy but slowly losing hope #nancy brushing max’s hair and doing her nails #robin rambling about all the movies they’ll watch when max wakes up #robin always saying ‘how are my girls?’ when she brings lunch during visiting hours #and they’re both there when she wakes up #ronance #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #max mayfield #stranger things

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canon-gabriel-quotes · 22 days

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Expect clip posting to slow down due to irl nonsense.

Also from the 11th to the 18th I won’t have any computer access and very little internet access but I’ll schedule a couple clips beforehand for that week 🫡

#idk how often the posts will be. maybe 3-4 a week #12 hr workday + no real privacy in my room #means I could only edit late at night #or on the weekend #and it feels like such a waste of my tiny bit of free time #to be sitting at my desk pretending to do something as I wait for my mom to gtfo of my room #I think all the typing makes her suspicious idk man #it made what should have taken 45 mins take up to 2 hrs sometimes #so I will be attempting to do all my editing on friday/saturday and queue the posts #what I’ve been doing is scheduling 2-4 days of posts at a time #but like I said. doing it during the weekday is extremely time consuming due to being watched :p #on the weekends she’s less nosy and I can just wait for her to be asleep lol #if tumblr didn’t have an audio upload limit then I could just go all out for like 3 hrs and have a big queue lined up #it will actually take me less time to edit on a friday/saturday just cause I won’t be interrupted at all at nignt. lol.#tldr: I have very little free time and am interrupted constantly during the week #it will be easier for me to edit late at night on the weekend #and schedule the posts throughout the week #at the cost of no more daily posts (blame tumblr audio limit)#non voice post

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shebelby13 · 10 days

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Alright, cheese drawer discourse following TSC is Killing me. Comment or reblog with where you are from and whether you have a cheese drawer, because I am Losing it.

#shelby talks #aftg #the foxhole court #andrew minyard #neil josten #tfc #all for the game #tsc #jean moreau #jeremy knox #cheese #cheese drawer #my family has always kept a cheese drawer #I'm from colorado #but my mom is from wisconsin so maybe She's to blame???#please help me with my research

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spearxwind · 8 months

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Something I've been thinking a lot recently after becoming a lot more social and going out is like. How different people really LOOK in general. Or rather, I've always seen it but I've been noticing it more. Different body types, different faces, different features.... etc. Everyone is so different looking.

There isn't a way you could possibly gauge how "beautiful" someone is because everyone is so different, and everyone's perception and preferences are different. Someone who you could consider extremely handsome could have deep seated self image issues, and someone who looks unremarkable to you might be someone's ideal.

I feel like being online and constantly exposed to the same types of faces, especially the type of people who become popular online due to the appearance, they always have the same set of features, same set of body types. It's not inherently bad, people do gravitate towards them because there's beauty standards that certain people fit. But in general exposure to people who look all similar rots the brain. It rots your self image. It distances you from your own community as well.

It bleeds into how people handle their relationships, it brings prejudice to people just based on their appearance, and it sucks so much to actually like, fully consciously REALIZE. Everyone is worthy of love, no matter how they look like (this includes you btw!! Yeah you!!! <3) no matter what the media says. It sounds like something sooo obvious but it really is something that grows roots in your brain given the chance and is hard to pull out.

Feeling like you're in an arms race against your peers to "score" someone who you could pass for an instagram model, instead of finding someone who you truly connect with. Having to deeply justify your partners and friendships to your family as being worth it, when they don't look like celebrities on TV and just look like regular people. (This has been my personal experience for a long time, but I feel like theres probably more people who have gone through the same)

"What will other people think? What will my family think?" is something constantly on my mind whenever I make any friends, and im only recently realizing that it really does not matter what they do think what matters is one's own happiness.

Not sure where I am going with this post I just wanted to write it out for a few days now and I finally did it <3 have a swag day

#thunderclap #words #i just think people should live without the constant pressure of appearances both your own and your peers. its literally brainrot #everyone everywhere is so different there are a thousand faces a thousand bodies a thousand features theres eight billion people on earth #its so terrible that we are always focused on the same ones and call them beautiful when theres so much to people in general #does this make any fucking sense? god im so tired but im feeling this a lot recently. man..........#my own appearance has been both praised and degraded for years years years and its fucked up my way of perceiving people for my whole life #idk... theres so much nuance to this whole conversation ofc i cant fit it all into one (1) post #like... recently realizing my mom is to blame for like 90% of my body image issues has had me reeling. like hello.#dont get me wrong i love her but damn that family can self project their flaws needlessly on the next generation huh

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