#chevy gang

[iamthehamburglar]

[calledlex]

because obviously dirty shoes excite me 🙄😭

[pr0cyonid]

As a Camaro driver, I think even the Mustang people (my mortal enemies) can agree with me when I say:

All Cybertrucks should be egged or TPed on sight

[random-ramblin]

Ayo.

Chevy Trax Gang.

♡Randy

[zikbitume]

Rollin Stone’ by @iminfantJStone is on #RollinStone A #GangstaGrillz w @DJDRAMA

[fitzs-trained-monkey]

Blind Boy 🥀

(An Ominis Gaunt friends-to-lovers playlist)

A/N: Please listen in order. There's a method to my madness.

Ominis Gaunt fell in love slowly...

It began, he thinks, when he started hanging out with her. Without Sebastian that is.

Young folks - Peter Biorn and John

Lake Shore Drive - Skip Haynes

She makes him rather happy. It's odd...

Dog Days are Over - Florence + the Machine

Sunshine Lollypops and Rainbows - Lesley Gore

She understands him like no one else. And even if she doesn't, she never pretends to. Just listens.

Wow, I'm Not Crazy - AJR

He really likes his time spent with her. He thinks about her when she's not around. She occupies his thoughts rather a lot. Her time feels like a currency and he fears running out. He's never had to be afraid of any sort of lack before.

putting a spin on Ophelia - Egg

What is this warm feeling? A dream - a wish, certainly. His parents would hurt him if they found out... Besides, he's just the blind boy. Who's he kidding?

One Last Wish - Casper

If I Could Ride A Bike - Park Bird, Chevy

Creep - Radiohead

It's impossible... but what's the point of it all if he doesn't at least try? It could be so beautiful. He doesn't have to be brave about it.

Do Not Let Your Spirit Wane - Gang of Youths

Do I Wanna Know? - Arctic Monkeys

He starts to try.

Passing Papers - Egg

Chasing Cars - Snow Patrol

Are You Bored Yet - Wallows

Please Notice - Christian Leave

Feelings Are Fatal - Mxmtoon

These feelings are deeper than he thought. He can't help but indulge them.

Can't Help Falling in Love - Elvis

Amazing - Rex Orange Country

Golden Hour - JVKE

This Side of Paradise - Coyote Theory

Can I Call You Tonight? - Dayglow

I Couldn't Be More In Love - The 1975

It's so wonderful. It's beyond good. And she's always so kind to him. So perfect.

Infinitely Ordinary - The Wrecks

Remember When - Wallows

Ratisim - The Suicide Squad

One night in the Undercroft, he plucks up a little courage. And then... then he asks that girl to dance.

Not About Angels - Birdy

Once Upon A December - Anastasia

The Princess Diaries Waltz

And oh... oh he's fallen so far. He's hopeless.

Thinking Out Loud - Ed Sheeran

Line Without A Hook - Rick Montgomery

First Kiss.

Like Real People Do - Hozier

And things just get better from there...

I Hear A Symphony - Cody Fry

Say You Won't Let Go - James Arthur

I Feel Good About This - The Mowgli's

Darling - Christian Leave

Love - Lana Del Rey

the world could end with you - Llunar

After graduation, he proposes. The ring doesn't come from a distant ancestor - it's not plucked off his family tree. It's just for her. For that lovely muggle-born girl and nobody else.

Until I Found You - Steven Sanchez

His first night with her is better than he ever could have dreamed.

Saturn - Sleeping At Last

He elopes with her two months later. And married life with her is perfect. Utterly and completely perfect. Away from his family and his high-society upbringing... it's lazy and soft and simple.

Banana Pancakes - Jack Johnson

Waltz for Sweatpants - Cody Fry

Would That I - Hozier

You Are Enough - Sleeping At Last

Photograph - Cody Fry

Love theme:

Hearing - Sleeping At Last

Happy Valentine's Day 💘

[outsidersheadcanons]

What the gang wanted to be when they grew up when they were kids

Ponyboy: Either a famous writer or a high school teacher (which I like to believe he became both. Imagine Ponyboy Curtis teaching “The Outsiders” 😭)

Sodapop: A veterinarian (he gave up pretty quickly when he realized how horrible he was at schoolwork, so it changed to cowboy)

Darry: A doctor or a lawyer. Growing up Darry always wanted a high paying job so his parents wouldn’t have to worry abt money when they got old.

Dally: He never took this kind of thing seriously. Did an assignment once at school abt what he wanted to be when he was older and he seriously wrote “a wizard” 💀

Johnny: He always thought that working on cars was pretty cool, I could see him being a mechanic or something (one way he bonded with Mr. Curtis when he was still alive was over their love of cars. Sometimes him and Soda would watch him fix the chevy up).

Two-bit: A comic or actor. Self explanatory.

Steve: A pilot, but more realistically a mechanic. He still fantasizes about flying a plane, though.

[seat-safety-switch]

This is a test of the emergency broadcast system. This is only a test. If this had been a real emergency, I would be selling the stale gasoline out of my backyard full of broken Mopars before attempting to flee in a safe direction. Afterwards, I'd pick up a bunch of broken modern cars off the highway.

For as long as I can remember, the apocalypse has been a common fantasy of a certain kind of person. They think that the destruction of society will make their skillset (repressed by the big-feelings and bigger-government crew) suddenly valuable, and they will rule the survivors like kings. It doesn't occur to them that they could potentially learn new and valuable skills that make them useful now.

Of course, this power fantasy is attractive. Anyone can fall victim to it, replacing their current hurts with a sort of antisocial revenge fantasy. For instance, I have often hoarded spare parts in case the internet goes down, or the nearby junkyard disappears. If that happens, then I'll finally be justified in having kept all these worn-out Chevy Blazer windshield wiper controls. I might even fix one up, and then I'd have the cleanest windshield in the wastes.

None of this will happen. Even if we did have another world-ending apocalyptic event in my lifetime, we have now learned that what we will actually do is keep going to work. There won't be any gangs of murderous outlaws looking for gasoline and water, or at least not more than there already are. What there will be is folks helping each other out, trying to get through a tough time together, while the assholes who caused it jet off to Caracas, wherever that is.

So, in the interest of trying to be a better person, if any of you jerks need a whole pile of Chevy Blazer windshield wiper controls, come on down to my compound. Bring a nail file and multimeter. We're gonna stick it to the dealership. And if the world does end, at least we'll have a funny story to tell the other survivors as we huddle around an irradiated campfire, eating the remnants of a five-hundred pound mutant raccoon. Sure hope one of you knows how to light a fire.

[spacenintendogs]

what the gang has for Transportation in my modern au

hiccup has a motorcycle he built himself basically from the ground up and he completed it his senior year of high school. he showed up to school riding it with the parking pass to go to the student lot and taped it to the handle bars. painted the same color as toothless. very much built for Speed. side pouch for toothless to sit in. it honestly breaks down a lot and he has to always fix it lmao

astrid owns a car that's got good gas mileage. i think it'd be a toyota corolla. it's silver and is covered with stickers on the back with varying messages ranging from the gym she goes to's logo to "if you can read this get off my ass" type shit. stormfly loves sticking her head out the window as astrid drives and if she's with astrid, she gets the front seat no questions.

fishlegs owns a volkswagen beetle. bright green. stickers all over the back of it with varying messages ranging from stuff about saving the planet, having a gronckle on board, and a bunch of stickers stuck on by the rest of the gang as jokes and otherwise. you immediately know it's his car. everyone always plays punch buggie when they see his car despite hiccup's insistence to knock it off because it doesn't count when they see it 24/7. meatlug has a specific seat just for her in the front :) baby on board!!

snotlout owns a Harley Davidson motorcycle with the fucking spread handlebars and everything. probably has flames painted on the side of it bc he's like that. has a saddlebag on both sides. hookfang will sit in the saddlebag and when he grows bigger (hee :)) snotlout will eventually get a sidecar that hookfang sits in :)

ruffnut drives a an old chevy silvarado pick-up truck. it's got a lot of miles on it but it runs very well. not a huge truck but it is good when they have sizeable loads to move lol. the back is also covered in stickers of varying messages but her favorite is one of those stupid ones with calvin from calvin and hobbes pissing on a logo of some random sports team she doesn't give a shit about. it just makes her laugh. the seats are torn at the seams because of 1. how old it is and 2. barf and belch like to Shred.

tuffnut also drives the old silverado but he also has a bicycle he likes to use. he loves using it!! it's bright blue with cool ass stickers all over it. he sometimes has ribbons coming out of the handlebars for pizazz. he just loves having the wind in his hair!! very serious about bicycle user safety stuff!! he knows all the hand signals!! the gang think he's weird for it but he'll always get whereever they're going first and they do not understand how (bikes = driving through small areas off road :)) he wears a special backpack that barf and belch sit in!!!

[tf2-bhs]

fun facts about the most important characters for the AU

Scout: Every teacher knows him as _____'s little brother. No exceptions. Is always treated with suspicion whenever they discover his surname.

Soldier: He and Demo always try and summon a ghost whenever they have a sleepover. He's trying to convince Merasmus to come along for one of them, as he believes with his super cool wizard powers they'll finally make contact with the undead.

Pyro: They write almost everything in a glitter gel pen

Demo: He gardens extremely well, and reads poetry. (He’s especially fond of Robert Burns’ work, and has a tendency to burst into recitals whenever he’s drank a little too much)

Engie: Has not been seen since 25/7/XX

Heavy: His bedroom used to belong to a young girl, so he's got model weapons next to a mural of My Little Pony characters. He can name all of them.

Medic: He has somehow tamed all of the seagulls at school. He is the seagull man.

Spy: Doxxes people online for fun, or to get back at them for arguing with him online (keyboard warrior), and he once doxxed Sniper without knowing.

Sniper: He streams on 'Itch'. He’s weirdly popular, but he doesn’t show his face or have a microphone. It’s just five hours straight of someone getting perfect headshots (Until he's backstabbed by a certain someone.) He also looks almost identical to the Assassin in BB2, who he mains. The only difference is that the Assassin has much longer hair

Miss Pauling: Colour-codes her notes and organises them extensively instead of revising her subjects.

Administrator: Shows up every 4 years at Christmas time and gives lavish and not at all personalised gifts to her grand nieces and nephews, before vanishing into the night.

Saxton Hale: Used to be the PE teacher while his dad worked as headteacher. He was GODLY to have on your team.

Bidwell: He paints in his free time, and posts his art online

Charles Darling: Head of the posh boarding school at the area. There’s been an intense rivalry between the Darlings and the Hales for quite some time.

Zhanna: Has a massive collection of plushies

Grey Mann: like 95, and has an 18-year-old daughter somehow. And is also still working???

Olivia Mann: Homeschooled for most of her life, but went to Darling Boarding School as a semi boarder for year 11.

Merasmus: Rarely wears eyeliner but always manages to get the perfect wing whenever they apply it.

Scout's mother: She gets almost everything from Facebook marketplace, charity shops, and Vinted. Furniture, clothes, appliances, everything. Also a massive temu victim.

Chevy (C!Heavy): Ooh he's mysterious - mickey

Beatrice (C!Pyro): Her old school ws set on fire. Despite almost everyone knowing that it was Beatrice, it could never be triased back to her.

Greg (C!Demo) and Greg (C!Scout): They are in all of the same classes and also share a last name (Smith), so it gets confusing at times.

Ross (C!Soldier): Does cadets with Soldier, and plans to go straight into it after secondary school

Virgil (C!Sniper): Like Mundee, he will and can headshot you 10 times in a row on Band Bastille 2.

Fred (C!Engineer): Before the summer he was mainly just good friends with Virgil, who was a part of the 'Classic' friend group before he fully joined at the start of year 11

Matt (C!Spy): No one knows why he doesn't go to Darling Boarding School, as his parents are quite posh.

Steven (C!Medic): Was one of the nicest students in school before he left, no one really knows why he hung out with Chevy or any of that gang in fact.

if you want anyone else, just comment them. ill reply, probably

[chloeillustrates16]

Summery: Years pass, Darry never ended up going to college, trying to get Ponyboy through high school before thinking about anything else. That was until Y/n came back to town four years after starting college Warnings: Swearing, fluff, underage smoking, angst with happy ending, Johnny and Dally lives because I said so, three year time skip from the book, female reader, third person pov, for plot your parents have names, long story Word Count: 3032

The sky turned a blend of orange and yellow as the sun began to rise over the horizon.

Ponyboy sat on the rooftop, Johnny sitting beside him. The comfortable silence between the two boys was broken, "Do you think Darry will go to college after you're done with high school?"

"Probably not; he did say that the only way that he could go originally was because of the Football scholarship, but they gave the scholarship to someone else."

Johnny hummed taking in another drag of his cigarette, his arm lazily over his knee as the ash flicked off from the bud. "Hear anything from Dally?"

"Nah," the two looked at each other before laughing.

Dallas, being Dally, didn't keep his record completely clean after turning 18 years old. He got put in the cooler for minor things now, a couple of fights here and there, and the occasional shoplifting--however, they haven't managed to catch him on those.

"I thought he was going to be put in longer. What was this time?"

"Him and Tim Shepard got into again."

"Again? What he do now?"

Before Johnny could answer a voice yelled from the porch. "Ponyboy, Johnny!" The two boys slid down the roof, landing on the grass below; Sodapop shook his head with a yawn.

Welcome to Tulsa, Oklahoma.

Y/n drove passed the city landscape-shaped sign. It seemed as if the small town had not changed since she'd left. Four years ago, she got accepted into her dream college.

She turned right instead of left, she had a few hours to kill before meeting up with her parents at Tommy's, a family owned restaurant they went to often when she was home.

The nice houses soon turned sun bleached, wooden fenced replaced with metal gates with signs that said: No Trespassing and Beware of Dog.

To most, this would be the bad part of town where gangs roamed the streets, but to her, it was the only thing that screamed home. On the corner, she recognized the small white house with no Ford truck insight.

Parking her Chevy on the side before stepping out, locking the car with her key. She turned the door knob after getting passed the screen door and not to her shock, it opened without hesitation. She stepped inside, calling out.

"Anyone home!"

Her own voice answered in an echo, she looked down the hall to where the owners' bedrooms were, nothing, then the kitchen and living room.

Y/n took a look around the living room. The recliner was still in the same spot as before. Mr. Curtis used to sit and smoke, even though Mrs. Curtis would yell at him. She remembered when she was eight asking what it was he was smoking, he offered it to her jokingly, not expecting her to actually take a drag.

Y/n shook her head with a smile before looking on the floor beside the recliner, the latest newspaper always ended up beside the chair, being knocked off by one of the many rowdy boys that had come in and out of the house daily.

She stepped into the kitchen seeing a picture of 15 year old Ponyboy hanging on the fridge with a magnet. He was holding something that Y/n couldn't make out. She took the paper off the fridge reading the article.

Ponyboy Michael Curtis, 14 years old, writes a book about his experience with juvenile delinquents: Johnny Cade and Dallas Winston in the best selling novel THE OUTSIDERS.

Y/n saw the words juvenile delinquents crossed out writing heroes at the top instead. She could tell immediately that it was Sodapop's handwriting, it was scratchy and barely readable.

Her fingers brushed against "THE OUTSIDERS" with a smile, "I knew you could do it," she said to herself before sticking it back to the fridge. Glancing about around the room again, she stepped out the back door in between the living room and kitchen. The yard was surrounded by a fence that was painted blue by Mrs. Curtis. She stepped out in the freshly cut grass moving across the lawn.

She remembered when she was six with Darry and Soda, who were 6 and 3. They'd put their hands on the paint, leaving their handprints. The yells of Mrs. Curtis filling her memory as she knelt down, parting the grass. Three handprints on the blue pant, barely showing the white underneath.

She was a bit surprised that they were still there, she'd thought that Darry would've painted over the old fence at least once. Straightening up, she looked out to the back porch, the old rocking chair was still there.

She didn't bother walking back in, rounding the house to her car. Her car, which was a gift she was given to her on her 16th birthday by her father, was a 56 Chevy Bel Air, it was kept up well over the years and had not only gotten her out of trouble, but the teenage curtis that often was running from a party.

---

Tommy's rested in the middle of a street, often attracting teenagers, passing throughers, and hitchhikers. From the window, she saw her parents, talking to each other. It looked busy, as always, taking a breath, she got out of her car and stepping in the diner. A burst of cold air from the inside foyer made her shiver as she went through the second set of doors.

She walked up to her parents, and was immediately met with hugs. "How are you?" her mom, Mary, asked as she took a seat down beside her dad.

"I'm good," a sigh escaped Mary as Y/n spoke.

"I swear, it's such a shame."

Confusion lace Y/n's face as she gravitated towards Mary's line of sight. On the wall was the night of Tulsa High School State 3A winning; right in the front holding the trophy being Darrel Curtis; a wide smile on the black and white photo of the boy being lifted by his teammates.

"What's going on?" She asked, turning back to her parents.

"Your mom being sentimental." Her dad, Jeff, muttered.

Mary scoffed towards the older man's direction, "We passed Darry working on the roof of Mr. Robinson's home. He waved to us when we passed, I feel awful that he had to give up that scholarship."

"It was his choice," Jeff said with a slight indifference.

"He should've moved on with his life; I understand that his parents passed, but still."

Y/n spoke up, "What about Sodapop and Ponyboy?"

She could feel the anger sizzling in her palms as she clutched them in tight fists.

Mary sighed, rubbing her temple. "We understand Darry's decision to stay in Tusla and work instead of going to school. His brothers, poor boys." she shook her head, "Sodapop dropped out."

"He what!" Y/n yelled, shocked.

"You didn't hear?"

"No!"

"Then Ponyboy, I always thought that Dallas Winston was trouble, but murder?" she shook her head. Y/n rolled her eyes about that, it was out of self defence, they ruled it as such. Johnny only got a few months, apparently, according to Steve Randle, he changed a bit, but not for the worse.

"Out of self defense," she argued.

"Still, why was he carrying the knife around in the first place?" Mary retorted.

"Oh, I wonder," Y/n snapped.

"Alright, alright." Jeff groaned, "We're not arguing the minute that we see you."

She didn't want to pick a petty fight with her mom, but this was getting ridiculous. It was as if the two had changed since she left; they called frequently, but she often didn't answer due to being out of her dorm room or being busy with school work.

The waitress took the moment to come up to the small family, taking their order before walking off.

"So, what are you going to do now that you're officially a graduate?"

She cleared her throat, stalling for a moment before answering Mary. "I actually got a job in Tulsa."

"Oh, at the hospital?" her mom asked, excitedly. "We're so happy for you, Y/n!"

She laughed, nervously. "Thanks, Mom."

---

The sky blended into an orange and yellow smoothie as Y/n drove down the street, she told her parents that she was going to drive around before going back to the house. In reality, she wanted to see the Curtis brothers.

Pulling up to the white house, which now reflected an orangey-yellow of the sky; she stepped out of her car. Glancing behind her shoulder, see saw the familiar gangle of boys walking down the sidewalk.

Ponyboy was the first to approach her, pulling her in a tight embrace. "Hey, Pony." She pulled away, instead of looking down, she looked up. "Wow, you got tall."

"Yeah, I grew a few inches since you left." That made her laugh; soon after, Johnny, Dally, Soda, Steve, and Two-bit approached. They all gave her hugs, and a side hug from Dally.

"Johnny," she said, surprised seeing his face. He was more tuff than he was the last time she saw him; he had a kicked-puppy aura about him. Now, he stood tall and strong, like he could take on the world if it was up to him to keep it up. His jaw was sharper and his hair a bit longer, his bangs now slicked back by grease instead of on his forehead.

"It's good to see you two," he smiled. Before she could respond, Two-bit wrapped his arm around her,

"Oh, you think these two are what makes your jaw drop. You should see ol' Darry."

She looked at the brunette confused as Soda shook his head, "He didn't change as much as these two did."

"Bullshit!"

Two-bit pulled Y/n along and inside the house. The house was suddenly a contrast to what it was when she went through that morning. The record player was immediately turned on with Rock playing through; Two-bit grabbed the chocolate cake from the freezer and going to go sit on the floor with a beer in hand.

"What are you up to?" Johnny asked her as he turned inside the hallway entrance where she was standing.

"Well," she sighed with almost defeat. "I had dinner with my parents, it went okay. But, I kind of had to lie."

"About what?"

"My job."

As if on cue, all the boys turned towards her with confusion written on her face. You see, her parents weren't the only ones who didn't know about her coming home for a job, let alone the major change.

"What job?"

"I got a job here in Tulsa, but it's not in nursing."

"Then what is it?" Soda asked from where he sat on the couch, his socked covered feet on the arm rest.

"Astrophysics."

All of them looked at her with puzzled looks, she sighed. "I get to study the sky with gravity."

"Oh!" Two-bit smiled, "Hey, Ponyboy, now you get someone to talk to about the sky!"

She saw Ponyboy shake his head before her eyes traveled back to Johnny, who was still standing in front of her.

"I think it's pretty neat that you get to do that."

"You think?"

She watched the boy's head bob in agreement. If she was being honest with herself, she was scared to tell anyone. Most of the time, she was met with praises, but being back home made her nerves come back.

---

The front door swung open, all the boys popped up as Darry Curtis walked through the door, his shoulders aching. "Sorry, I had to stay--" he cut himself off seeing Y/n look from in from the kitchen.

Without saying another word, he dropped his bag at the door and walk over to her. She let out a small gasp of air as he tugged her in a tight hug, at least the muscles didn't go away.

He smelled of Mahogany, dust, and sweat. For once, she didn't find herself wanting to pull away from the oder; she rested her forehead on his shoulder. The only noise being Mickey Mousing playing on the TV.

Darry finally pulled away from her, his arms still around her waist. "What the hell are you doing here?" he asked, his hands pushing away the hair that had fallen.

"I wanted to see you, obviously."

"You didn't have to come all the way here to see me," he said. She raised an eyebrow, as a blush spread across his face. "That came out wrong, uh..." he pulled away, rubbing the back of his neck.

From behind Darry, someone yelled, "KISS HER ALREADY!"

Darry whipped around, no one looked like they spoke, but he already knew that it was Soda by the tone. He gave his younger brother a glare before turning back to Y/n.

"Sorry about that," he coughed. he paused for a moment before asking, "Would you like to stay for dinner?"

"I'd like that."

Wolf whistles sounded being him, he looked up at the ceiling, his ears now very red. She held in her own giggle, covering her mouth with her fingers.

"Would you cut it out!" He yelled at the gang before huffing. "I'll be back," He whispered to her before walking out of the room. Y/n turned back to the group with a disapproving look.

---

Days had passed since she had dinner at the Curtis house. She decided to go back, to find that everyone was going to be out of the house that night except for Darry.

"Is it alright if I stay here with you?" Darry looked up as soon as Pony stepped off the porch.

"Of course, you're always welcome to stay."

"Darrel." He knew, he always knew.

"Yeah, yeah. I'll sit down." Y/n closed the door before walking towards the couch, sitting close to where Darry was on the recliner. "You look good," he started.

"Thanks," she smiled. "Um... I want to talk about it." She continued, "I'm sorry that I left."

His blue eyes went wide as he snapped his attention to her, "What? No," he said, sternly. "Y/n, you had a life. After Mom and Pops died, I did what I had to as the oldest."

"I should've stayed in Tulsa," she argued.

"No," Darry rose his voice, his tone rougher than he'd meant. She watched as the now 23 year old stood, instead of walking to pace, who she initially thought, she felt his hand grab hers as he stood in front of where she sat on the old couch. "Listen to me when I tell you that I'm so glad that you left and found something that you were good at. You knew what you wanted to do for years, all I knew was that I wanted to play Football. But I've come to realize that all those players, they don't stay young and play for long. They're quickly washed out, I didn't have anything else that interested me."

"Darry," she paused, letting him continue.

"I'm sorry that we ended things the way that we did. I know Mom and Pops were just as parents to you as they were to me, Soda, and Pony. I'm sorry that I yelled at you that night,"

Y/n stood, her hand gripping his scared callused one a bit tighter than before. Which, he returned. "Darry," she began again before getting cut off.

"There are so many things I want to get off my chest, but you knew how I was with words and I was never really able to speak them. It was the reason why Pony ran off and had to deal with those Socs at the park. I'm working on it, I really am--"

Darry was cut off by Y/n pressing her painted nail against his lips. "Can I speak now?" He gave her a nod, not trusting his mouth to not start rambling once again.

"I didn't just come back because I was meeting up with parents. I got a job here, and I wanted to see if if you'd like to try again. I understand if you're in a new relationship now, or... have moved on and not wanting to worry about a relationship along with taking care of your brothers."

"At the hospital?" he asked.

"No, there's a company here that works with astronomy. I didn't graduate in nursing."

"Then what?"

"Astrophysics, I found something I loved better than taking care of children. And honestly, I failed out of my first year of anatomy," she confessed with an embarrassed laugh.

"Honestly, you were always the more intelligent one out of all of us."

"Doesn't help I have "rich" parents." He rubbed the back of his neck,

"How are they?"

"Good."

"I'm surprised they don't think of me as trash because of what happened to Johnny, Pony, and Dally."

"Yeah, I got onto them about that; they weren't the nicests about it." Darry only gave her a nod before a comfortable silence waved over them.

Darry's hand moved from hers, up to the side of her neck; his thumb tracing lazy patterns on her cheek. She leaned into his palm instinctively before Darry stole a kiss from her. It wasn't long or lasting; when Darry pulled away, Y/n immediately pulled him back into another, this time lasting longer.

His arms snaked around her waist, pulling her tunt against him. Her own arms wrapping around his neck. A laugh from her throat made him pull away, his lips curling into the familiar carefree smiled that she'd grown to love.

" I promise, I'll there more. I might have all the time in the world, but... I'm willing to make this work."

"Yeah, me too." She paused, before asking. "You seriously let Soda drop out?"

A laugh ripped from his lips as his hair fell against his forehead as he shook his head. "Yeah, it was a long story. To sum it up, he wasn't going to graduate even if he went onto senior year."

"What's Pony doing now?"

"Still track, and baseball. He found that he really liked it," a hum escaped her as she followed him into the kitchen.

[florianniss]

Dungeons and Drag Queens

RatedE, Identityporn, Drag Queen Eddie

“Gah!”

Steve has a tight-knuckled grip on his ‘Oh shit’ bar and his brake pedal is pressed all the way to the floor. He squeezes his eyes shut and waits for the crunch of metal, the crushing of glass, the impact that throws him into the windshield and puts him in the hospital in a full-body cast.

It never comes.

“Jeezus, Steve. Lighten up, will you?”

Somehow, miraculously, Dustin has managed to swerve and miss the parked delivery van and is tooling proudly down the street like he didn’t almost send Steve’s life flashing before his eyes.

“You’re not my Dad, you know.”

Dustin turns the wheel back and forth, like he’s in one of those grocery store ride-ons that you put quarters in to make it move. He comes up on a stop sign way too fast and slams on the brakes at the very last second. Steve has to throw his hands on the dash to stay in his seat. 

“That’s right,” Steve says, pulse rapid and thready, and he’s sure his veins are popping out all over the place. “I’m your Mom. And you’re a menace.”

Dustin rolls his head dramatically and steps on the gas. The old fake-wood-grocery-getter he’s borrowed from his folks spits up gravel from its back tires. Steve wishes he’d ridden separately, taken his bike instead.

“Why are you such a chicken lately, anyway?” Dustin whines. “You used to be fun.”

Steve bristles. “I’m still fun.” It comes out as a growl, like a cantankerous old bear woken way too early from slumber.

Dustin laughs and lays down another screeching halt. Steve swears he can smell the brake pads burned and disintegrated into dust. He grins like he’s done it on purpose, takes a corner and heads out of town, and Steve forces himself to relax. 

He would never admit it, but he has become rather — conservative — these past few weeks. Like, his body is still twenty-two but his brain is thirty years older.

“Do I need to run through any rules with you before we get there?”

Steve gives a long-suffering sigh. It’s Saturday, and it’s the first day he’s had off in two weeks. And, like the soft-serve (coward) he is, he’s agreed to stand in for Dustin’s girlfriend, Suzie, at their little gang’s weekly board game. 

“I got it.”

It’s not true, of course. He has no idea what the hell he’s getting into. What he does know is the second he found out Dustin and Mike and Max and Lucas and Will were secretly meeting in some random guy’s garage, his Mother Hen transformed into Mother Lion.

“OK.” Dustin doesn’t sound convinced.

He picks up the other kids and they pile into the back two rows, punching the back of Steve’s seat playfully as they pass. They pair off naturally, Mike with Will and Lucas with Max. Steve’s chest twinges a bit when he thinks about how Suzie rounds out their little group nicely.

Meanwhile, he’s the third wheel. (Or rather, the sixth? Seventh?)

Dustin and the others have been trying to get Steve to come for weeks. He explains nicely that he’s an adult and he has responsibilities: job, rent, groceries. Recuperating from life. The kids try to make him feel guilty by telling him everyone they invite always says ‘no.’ So, of course, he’s got to prove them wrong.

He also wants to meet this guy whose garage they meet in. What if he’s a creep or a kidnapper? Or a killer. The kids don’t even know how old he is.

Steve intends to find out.

Dustin pulls into the trailer park and Steve definitely gets Texas Chainsaw Massacre vibes from the place. He kinda wishes he’d brought his Leatherman. Or his bat.

The kids spill out of the car and hurry down the dirt driveway toward the mandoor on a faded puke-green metal building. Behind it, there’s a trailer in the same color and condition. A rusted van is parked crooked near the garage, an old Chevy truck has been pulled right up to the front porch. Steve notes the plate numbers in case he needs to report a crime.

He opens the station wagon’s back door and lifts the cooler. He’s packed healthy stuff like string cheese and peanuts, a bag of grapes and a few apples. It’s not just for his wards; it’s for him too. Ain’t no way he’s eating some serial killer’s pork rinds. No sir.

Steve follows the rest into the garage and isn’t half surprised to find it smells exactly like a garage. Rubber and oil and musty rust and something sweet — radiator fluid? He takes in the large open space, scanning the boxes and tools and spare parts before settling on a large, heavy, claw-footed dining table that looks like it belonged to somebody’s dead grandmother.

The boys pull out folding chairs and begin to set them up around the table, all talking as loud as they possibly can to make sure they’re heard over the others. Max smiles and hangs her gray tote bag with the rainbow straps over the back of her chair. Steve is pretty sure she’s wearing a Care Bear shirt, and he loves her for it.

Steve sets the cooler on the floor next to the table and realizes he’s forgotten something.

“Oh, shit, guys! I forgot the pop!”

Groans circle the table and Steve feels horrible. He’s about to volunteer to take the wagon to the 7-11 and pick up Slushies to make up for it, when a voice behind him offers another solution.

“I got drinks in the trailer.”

Dustin cheers and Steve spins around, hair prickling on his arms because this guy sounds much older than seventeen. And when he lays eyes on a very adult face, his stomach does a very convincing leap off a highrise. It’s nothing like he expected.

Apparently, neither is Steve, because the guy drops the opened box of dice he’s carrying in the crook of one arm and they clatter onto the floor like hailstones and roll under the table. A stunned set of dark eyes pop out of a narrow, handsome face, and his mouth falls open. For a second, Steve feels embarrassed for the guy.

Dustin, however, flies in from the side and hugs him. “Thanks, Eddie! We’ll just run in and —“

This Eddie shakes himself like a wet dog, and a stern frown creases his forehead as he narrows his eyes “Not you, Henderson. Or you two.” He points at Will and Mike. “Max. You and Lucas grab some and haul them out.”

Lucas grins at Max, who returns the smile with something mischievous. Eddie catches it and shakes his head. “And no beer. I ain’t serving minors, here.”

Steve watches the whole exchange with a little jealousy. He’s supposed to be the only one who gets to boss these kids around. But he can’t possibly say anything; the guy’s logic is sound, and even if he’s just covering because Steve is here, it’s one less thing to worry about.

Because there’s definitely something about this Eddie that has sent Steve’s pulse racing.

He realizes he’s staring and quickly crouches to help the others collect the escaped dice. Down on hands and knees, he notes how sweaty his palms are, the nervous shimmy behind his navel.

What the hell is wrong with him lately?

When everything’s been collected and he crawls back from under the table, Eddie and Dustin are standing in the same spot. Except Dustin has a shit-eating grin on his face. And Eddie is looking like he’s been hit with a baseball bat.

His eyes are – well, they’re captivating.

“Uh,” Eddie says, and he folds both arms over his chest, hugs himself tightly. “I’ll go check on Max.”

He spins on his heel and high-tails it outside, like he’s seen a ghost or something.

Dustin continues to smile as he approaches the table and chooses a chair. He carefully spills out his little figurines and bag of matching dice, and Steve wants to throttle him for how smug he’s being.

The conversation returns to the volume levels from inside the car. Everyone is going on about what happened last time, all of them trying to fill Steve in. He tries to listen to each of them in turn, catches phrases like, ‘That demon was so sick, man!’ And ‘I can’t believe you tried to open the chest with a shovel!’ They were really getting into it, saying, ‘OK, then, next time you open the damn thing!’ and, ‘But nobody’s got lockpicking!’ when the door opens, and Eddie and Max and Lucas walk in.

Steve’s eyes flit over the Mountain Dew piled in both kids’ arms (they’re gonna be a handful on the ride home) and settle on the fact that Eddie has changed his shirt.

It’s long-sleeved, less wrinkled, and newer-looking. It’s like his hair has been combed; all the tight curls have separated and they seem softer somehow. He swaggers, yes, swaggers, across the floor right up to Steve and shoves his hands in his jeans pockets. Jeans that hug his frame a little too well.

“I’m Eddie Munson. Hey.” It’s cocky.

Steve stands so quickly that he almost knocks his chair back. Someone at the table snickers.

He slips his hands in his own pockets. “Steve Harrington. Hey.”

They exchange hard-focused glares and brief nods, and then Eddie moves away to take a chair at what’s clearly the head of the table. It’s directly across from Steve.

Eddie sits, and Steve sits, and he tries not to think anything at all. Tries to clear his brain and make it an empty space. Because, if he doesn’t, he’s bound to think this guy is threatening him in some way. There are some pretty territorial vibes coming off him.

Chaos ensues. Everyone scrambles to spread things out on the table. They lean over it, sometimes standing on their chairs to reach. And they argue, of course, because they always argue.

“That’s not where the garden was! It was over there! Next to the rowboat!”

“No. That’s where the temple statue was, remember?”

Steve tears his gaze away from their host’s and finds the tablecloth he thought was a honeycomb-themed covering, is actually the mat they’re playing their game on.

He checks to see if Eddie is still watching him, and, he is. Looking over the top of a large manilla envelope as he slides white sheets of paper out, one at a time. It’s eerie, really. The way his eyes seem so deep. As if he’s some sort of —

Well, Steve doesn’t know.

Eddie passes out character sheets and Steve’s instructed to read his. He scans through it, reading about a man who’s a noble who worships some kind of dragon god. He doesn’t understand all the stuff on the front; it’s a lot of reading. More than he’s done since college. Even then, he needed a quiet room with no distractions to understand what he was reading.

Eddie’s garage is far from that.

Dustin leans over and hands him a velvet pouch. “You can use some of my dice.”

Steve leans into him. “You’re gonna have to help me. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.”

Dustin laughs, but he does help. All of them do, actually. More than enough. At one point, when his character “Rodrick” is standing on a half-sunken pirate ship, and it’s his turn to decide whether he should investigate a dark, dank, waterlogged room, even though apparently he can’t see into it, Max pats him reassuringly on the back and says, “Don’t worry. We’ll cover you.”

Steve isn’t worried about some fictional character in some fantasy game, who can’t die anyway because he’s got a biblical laying hands spell. He’s worried about making a fool of himself in front of –

Yeah.

Eddie’s murder stare eases eventually. He lords over the board, hunkered down behind a makeshift barrier he’s set up on his end. Steve catches on that he’s not playing, he’s leading the game. He’s sarcastic and loud, swears like a sailor, and it’s clear he knows his shit. It’s like he knows how everything is supposed to play out ahead of time, and he lures the other players into his trap.

It doesn’t go as he expects either, because Dustin challenges him on everything. He argues that in real play some character wouldn’t really do that. He corrects Eddie on how many hits someone gets, or whether spells can be used in certain instances. They bicker like a couple of old, long-married people, while the rest of the kids dive into notes they’ve taken, share each other’s sheets and basically work together to overcome and defeat monsters. And if Steve hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, hadn’t been there to watch the playful back and forth that was actually whimsical and light-hearted, he wouldn’t have believed it.

After Dustin throws a fit when an undead monster stays dead by Max a second time, when it should have resurrected once more to be killed a third, Eddie loses his cool. He picks up the suspect monster and hurls it across the garage, where it slides over the concrete floor and ends up in a pile of junk.

“He’s dead because I say so, got it?”

Steve watches fire dance in the guy’s eyes, but he’s not fooled. He understands, just like the kids do, that he’s not really angry. He’s enjoying this.

They’re a few hours in when Steve dies. And it’s not the fact that he’s dead, really. No. It’s the humiliating way it happens.

“Why the hell did you do it that way, you idiot?” Dustin shouts at Mike, who has made the decision to take a fancy bow-and-arrow shot between his legs, aiming for the space under Steve’s character’s arm where it sits on his hip. Unfortunately, it hits Roderick directly in the ass, and the following roll of the dice lands on the ‘twenty’ side. And the table erupts into shrieks and complaints in every direction. 

“You killed him!”

Steve sits back in his chair, shocked and not quite understanding what happened, when Eddie begins to laugh.

It’s not your typical everyday ha-ha funny thing. This is a full-bodied, chair tipped on two legs, clutching your stomach because you’re about to piss your pants, raucously mirthful and fucking joyful laugh.

And it goes on. And on. And on. It continues for so long, in fact, that Steve finds himself grinning. Dustin has his head in his hands, Will is defending Mike, and Max and Lucas are looking over Steve’s shoulder at his sheet to see how they can bring him back to life (because apparently, nobody else has healing spells).

Eventually, Eddie sets his chair back on four legs and gets out of it. He steps away from the table and motions for Steve. He walks right out of the garage.

Steve follows, because how can he not?

The trailer house is filled to the gills with old-people stuff, trinkets and wall hangings and lots of Catholic mementos. It smells like cigarette smoke, but it’s basically clean. Small and cramped, well-lived in, but not the kidnapper’s lair Steve imagined.

Eddie is in the kitchen with the refrigerator door open, just his backside showing. He slams it closed and comes out with two PBRs. Eyebrows raised in question, he waits for Steve to open receptive hands before he tosses it over.

“Thanks,” Steve says. 

Eddie cracks his open and leans sideways against the counter, crossing one long leg over the other. He lifts his beer as acknowledgement and tips it back, watching Steve as he pops his open too. A grin lingers at the corner of his mouth.

“How do you know Dustin?” he asks once Steve has had a chance for a swallow. “Believe it or not, he hasn’t told me that yet.”

Steve imagines the breakneck speed at which Dustin talks, especially with someone he’s just met. And he hadn’t even considered that Dustin would have told Eddie about him.

“His mom knows mine. We went to the same school.”

Eddie tips his head slightly, like he needs a different angle to be able to understand. “How old are you?”

Steve considers the beer the guy tossed him and figures he must have an idea. “Twenty-two.”

Eddie smirks, eyes glinting. “Seems kinda suspicious for two guys to live together. Especially when you’re so much older than him.”

And Steve gets it. Eddie is making sure Steve isn’t hurting Dustin, just like Steve’s been trying to do with Eddie.

He counters with, “Well, how old are you? People might get the wrong idea, seeing as you’re an adult, and all, and these kids keep coming over to your house.”

Eddie’s smile widens and he takes another sip instead of answering. Steve decides to push the envelope a little.

“How do I know you’re not giving them drugs?”

Eddie chokes on his beer, but catches himself before it spews all over the kitchen. He coughs as he’s smiling, wipes his mouth off with a towel that’s threaded through the oven door handle. And when he looks at Steve, there’s some self-preservation bleeding through.

“Why do you think I invite them to play DnD here, huh? All sorts of shit goes down in this community that no one even knows about. They’re good kids, Steve. I just wanna keep ‘em safe.”

It’s the first time he’s said Steve’s name, and it feels – well, it feels, strangely intimate.

“I just didn’t realize they already had a babysitter,” Eddie teases, and the tense atmosphere lifts.

They share a look and a smile and it goes on for far too long.

That’s when Lucas slams the screen door open and leaps into the hallway. “We figured out how to save you!”

Steve catches Eddie’s eye before giving in to Lucas’ incessant tugging on his elbow.

“I’ll be there in a sec. Gotta take a piss,” Eddie says, burping into the back of his hand and crushing the can against his thigh. It’s something that shouldn’t make Steve’s brain fizz out. But it does.

Steve is bombarded when he enters the garage with a plan the group of them worked out together. It seems Will is still mad at Dustin, scowling over Mike’s shoulder, but the rest of them are enthusiastically escorting Steve to the table while explaining their plot to resurrect him.

Eddie strolls in, not five minutes later, with more beer. This time, instead of tossing it, he sets it on the table at Steve’s elbow and smiles down at him. Steve smiles back because he’s honestly over his head here.

They continue on, successfully completing that quest and jumping headlong into another, until Steve’s ass is sore and he has to pee, and he steps out into the now-night air to piss behind the garage.

Two beers in and his thoughts are making connections he really doesn’t need at the moment. Like how twice now he’s become completely enamored with someone the first time they meet. Like how he’s a sucker for a big, wet, expressive pair of eyes and an intelligent mind. Like how it doesn’t matter that Eddie’s a guy, because he’s not picky. And he’s suddenly sinking into the horrifying feeling that he’s cheating on –

But that’s ridiculous. He’s not going steady with anyone to be feeling that way.

When he returns, Eddie is telling a gory story about some chick in space who’s encountered alien things with acid blood. The kids are ‘ewing’ and ‘grossing’ and Dustin is on the edge of his seat listening to the tale. Eddie eyes Steve and winks, then dives into a graphic description of something called a ‘chestburster.’

Eddie laughs at their disgusted groans. “Ellen Ripley is fucking badass, and I love her.”

Steve feels a strange swoop in his gut. He doesn’t know who this Ellen Ripley is, but he’s suddenly jealous of her.

“I have an idea!” Max shouts over the din, waving her hands to get everyone’s attention. “We should go see the movie. All of us. Together. Suzie too”

“What movie?” Steve asks, and everyone answers in unison.

“Aliens!”

Steve makes eye contact with Eddie, who is watching him with amusement. He’s heard of the movie, but isn’t sure it’s the type of thing the kids would enjoy. He doesn’t even know what it’s rated, and if they can even get in to see it.

But the kids are already making plans for the following weekend. Dustin rounds on Steve and says he absolutely has to go with them.

“Yeah, Steve,” Eddie says, teasing from across the table. “You just have to go.”

Steve knows a challenge when he sees one. “Fine. I’ll do it. But you have to go, too.”

And that’s how Steve Harrington drives a carload of kids home, hopped up on caffeine and sugar, wondering how he’s gotten himself a group date with a bunch of teenagers and Eddie, of all things.

Read on AO3

[ca-dmv-bot]

Customer: YEAR AND MAKE OF CAR DMV: has a 1948 Chevy, cholo can have a gang conotation Verdict: DENIED

[verdemoun]

I can’t see all of them being able to drive well but I also can’t see that fact stopping them. Maybe for some angst, who is the first in a car accident?

oh two part-er

first while not technically a car accident kieran was very literally hit by a car his first day in timewarp, and not a light tap. he was thrown, broken arm, bruised ribs, head slammed into the asphalt so hard he saw spots and passed out. his introduction to modern era was the chaotic horror of an emergency room, searing fluorescent lights, the stink of disinfectant and strangers in alien hospital uniform repeatedly asking what his name was.

kieran duffy wasn't remembered as a van der linde. he wasn't remembered at all. bessie had no way of connecting the dots that so much of mary-beth's novels were true until lenny started reading them. so with the hospital mandated bare minimum to a seemingly homeless man who stammered about O'Driscolls and his gang, he got turned back out onto the streets with a few days of painkillers and a shoddy cast on his arm.

everyone else gets the comfort of waking up to the smiling faces of loved ones or at least a friendly mad woman chasing you down the street knowing your name. kieran sleeps rough for weeks, lurking around the modern era shady belle because it's the only thing familiar but being chased off the gated property the second he's noticed.

when hosea and lenny happen across him by chance, he's more bruised and battered than his corpse was riding headless back into shady belle, and more terrified than he ever was being their prisoner in colter.

it is months before he can get in a car without looking like he's being held at gunpoint

but the first van der linde car accident, hmm: well obviously the gang pick up driving very differently.

hosea is the perpetual old man driving 10 under the speed limit when you're already running late to work. but bessie lets him drive the chevy on sundays and they just enjoy one another's quiet company on the open road.

lenny is the only one who can drive without bessie clutching the door. he is also the first to buy his own car and understands they serve the same purpose as a horse. even forms an emotional connection to his car, is slightly upset it doesn't love him back like maggie did.

they put off teaching sean to drive as long as possible and true to form he proves their greatest fears being a horrible driver - but the pizzeria never had to pay a late delivery fee again.

kieran sat behind in the wheel in an empty lot, let the car roll a hundred yards before pulling the handbrake and having a panic attack. never again. passenger princess/walks everywhere.

as much as he loves learning about the engineering of cars, arthur is not a natural driver. he insisted on learning to drive in a truck because people already looked at him and assumed he had a truck. as a result, no parking lot trolley return was safe. his truck is as dented as his spine is ruined.

so no one expected it to be lenny who was running late one night: or a phone call from an unknown number, saying there'd been an accident. not lenny's fault, of course. another driver, too drunk or too tired to realize the light was red and slammed straight into the driver side of his car.

most of the gang have been lucky enough to avoid a hospital, and as a result it's chaos. bessie is so distressed worrying about her son that she forgets she's the only one who knows what to do. hosea is panicky asking reception what happened, where's lenny, where's his boy. and sean is just. silent. nothing. no bouncing. no anxious fidgeting. he's silent, and still.

and lenny's asleep. general anasthetic or some sort of sedative, unnaturally still and more bandages than flesh. just a strange, bulky hospital bed and blue hospital blanket. tubes and a heart beat monitor that they naively thought only existed on tv.

hosea chases bessie, who has to remove herself because she doesn't want to be the only one in the room crying. it doesn't seem fair how upset she finds it when she has known lenny for so much shorter than the rest.

just sean. sitting with unnatural calmness in a plastic chair beside lenny in a hospital bed. afraid to hold his hand in case he hurts him. cracks a few jokes about being glad lenny has always only ever loved reading, because if he wanted to learn to play piano he'd be mortified by his broken, swollen fingers.

lenny doesn't laugh. the heart rate monitor stays at a constant, steady beep.

some old, painful memory digs its way to sean's consciousness. he can hear bessie sobbing in the hallway, hosea bracing her weight in an embrace like she'll collapse without him. sean instinctively opens the windows and moves his chair so as to not be in between lenny and the night air. his eyes bounce for a moment between the clock and the heart rate monitor. he offers him confession, like a good catholic boy, and when no answer comes, begins to sing old irish blessings only loud enough for the two of them to hear.

lenny is fine and makes a full recovery!! discharged days later, recognises he's lucky and it could have easily been so much worse. he's more annoyed about the hospital getting his family worked up for no reason. whatever drugs they gave him, it was the damn best sleep he ever had. he's more upset over the hospital bill than his car being wrecked, and wasting a joke about 'all the bleeding was internal, that's where blood is meant to be' on sean, who doesn't get it

recognises the tune next time sean is humming irish blessings to himself. doesn't know where.

[bending-sickle]

"I slid into my cherry-red 1967 Chevy Impala, a car that had been given to me by a former client, and by 'given," I mean the guy who had owned it is now a vaporized corpse, and his wife left town without saying anything about the car. I keep getting stopped at red lights by bros yelling compliments at me and asking what's under the hood. I have no idea, I don't know anything about cars, and right now, this Impala's defining feature is that it doesn't have AC and the upholstery gets so sticky that you'd think a toddler had been eating waffles in it. Also, it's hard to steer, and every pothole rattles my teeth. I could probably pick up a lot of girls in it, though, if I was interested in that.”

- If This Book Exists, You're in the Wrong Universe (2022) by Jason Pargin (a.k.a. David Wong)

okay so

1) this certainly gives a new perspective on the impala in supernatural, which is exactly the same but in black. presumably down to the sticky upholstery and the terrible shock absorption

2) i desperately need to see dean see this car in all its cherry-red glory

3) i equally desperately need a crossover of supernatural and the john dies at the end gang in [Undisclosed]

[junkyardfriends-askblog]

Welcome!

this is a side blog for mostly asking the gang in my Junkyard Friends AU, things are planned and might change too

Rules:

Nothing suggestive, this is more family-friendly

Please keep the asks simple for now

Please don't spam asks, that can get annoying

Please don't repeat asks. Im busy and will take a while to reply

Askable characters:

-Dewey Inkwell (It/They)

-Gaskette Chevy (She/Them)

-Chester Chest (It/Him)

-Canoodle Soup (Him/They)

Gang's current location:

Henry's house