#dad!Steve: backstory

[pencilscratchins]

i have reached the part of the steddie hyperfixation where i make them domesticated men in their 50s. having a blast! (twitter) [ID in ALT text]

[urhoneycombwitch]

okay aheeem heem here u go <3

newly-graduated professor Steve with Robin at his side (she’s still in school, going for another masters), checking out the library at the college that he’s just got the teaching position at. and Robin is spinning in dramatic circles with her arms wide like “wooowwwww I will come visit you and procrastinate on my thesis papers so much heeeeere :’) ”

she’s not being quiet enough because students from different tables are shooting her dirty looks. and Steve tugs at her elbow to get her over to the help desk, so embarrassed, “Robin would you please behave, I’m a teacher here now” but there’s no bite to it and she’s snickering at him until the librarian behind the help desk turns around and changes the trajectory of Steve’s life forever.

it’s literally like time screeches to a halt for him. freeze-frame. there’s the love of my life, gonna marry her and have kids and a mortgage with her, montage. jaw-dropping. cartoon-heart eyes bugging out over you. (you thought he was hot, too, but you like when Steve tells his side of the story best <3)

what happened in real time before Robin’s eyes was her best friend stuttering a lot, no actual words coming out, just a faint sort of babble. about nothing. an absolute nosedive. (Robin is also partial to telling her memory of that moment).

after nervously shoving the dark frames of his glasses up on his nose, Steve blurts out, “uh- hey. hi. Steve. That’s me. I wanted to ask where ecology resources are located.”

(he didn’t actually. he forgot why he came and just read the first thing he saw on the reference poster over your shoulder.)

“I think…” you squinted at him, like you were thinking but trying to loop him into your thoughts (a trait you still have to this day, Steve finds it wildly charming), his heart kicking up fast under so much direct attention from you. “If I’m recalling correctly, it’ll be in the 500’s.”

You sneak a glance over your shoulder, then nod back at him with a helpful smile, digging around in a drawer while you say- “Yep! That’ll be in Natural Science. You’ll wanna look for the 500’s- here’s a map of the library.” and you hand over a bookmark-shaped blueprint.

Steve blinks, rapidly, really feeling out of his depth, suddenly feeling so inadequate and off his flirting game, hasn’t had time for anything but grad school until now. he shoots anyways, hands twisting around the paper- “mind waking me to it?”

and sonofabitch if he didn’t score. it works. you giggled and said a soft “sure” and Robin fake gagged and said she was gonna ditch you two to go look at the archives and now you and Steve are walking arm and arm down an increasingly emptier wall of books. 

“ecology section is the next shelf over but…” you grin over your shoulder while leading. Steve grins back, easy and sure, excitement and hopefulness whooshing to the forefront when you finish with a wink- “this section is a bit more private.”

caged in on ether side, the already-quiet noises of the library are dampened and far off. you can hear Steve’s steady breathing, leaned up against the opposing bookshelf, auburn lock of hair flopping over every time he dips his head to laugh at a joke you tell. he’s an excellent flirt. (it didn’t take long at all for you to feel that flutter. that bone-deep crush settling in.)

and after you can’t stall any longer, you start to leave back to your post, saying “if there’s anything at all you need, come find me, m’kay?” and he lets you get a few yards away before he says your name, all soft. 

“there’s something I need. well- it’s something wrong with this bookmark, actually.”

you turn back, half-intrigue, half-frown. Steve waves it in the air, faux-perplexed- “Yeah, it, uh- it doesn’t have your number on it. for some reason.”

and you give the most long-suffering sigh. close your eyes for a brief moment. (the first of many times you will take this posture in front of your future spouse.) “You know what, Harrington, I’m gonna let you have that one.”

and he gives an enthusiastic fist pump while you stalk back over to him, pointing an accusing finger- “you can have it if you promise to come up with a better second line.”

Steve mimes locking his lips, throwing away the key. He hands you the bookmark as you reach for the pen behind your ear, then tells you: “I’ll read the dictionary back and forth to come up with a more… eloquent pickup. I can do better, and I will- I bet I can find a dictionary in the good old… 800’s.” 

after a brief pause to look at the bookmark caught between two different hands (Steve still has the original one from that day bc he is a sentimental sap. used it as a bookmark the day he read you his vows <3), Steve taps the tiny “Literature” label then lets go. then gives you finger guns.

and it’s so dorky but you’re already so head over heels for this sweetie (and he looks soooooo great in slacks and cable knit sweaters and loafers btw still does!!) that you just laugh and say “That was a good one, Steve. much better.”

and you give him your number :) end meet cute. commence cute beginning. 

do u guys wanna read something I wrote out last night in a fugue state completely unprompted messy style. first meet-cute of professor!steve x librarian!reader. backstory for girl!dad Steve. is this still the Website of Dreams. just checking

[fuctacles]

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Maxine was nearing the rebellious teenage years Steve was so scared of. She was already a feisty kid when he met her all these years ago, slingshotting cans off tree branches and fighting with her brother, and she made no sign of stopping. She was a savage on a skateboard, crashed other kids in arcade games and looked up to strong female role models, like Wonder Woman. Steve was happy to call her his daughter. Even if she hated it.

She liked to spend time actively, so he wasn’t surprised when she got into sports. It was a thing they could bond over. Recently, though, all she could talk about was music. She was pestering him about getting her a guitar, and he was slowly warming up to the idea. Robin, of course, was encouraging it.

He already took her to a music store, grabbing a couple of cassettes that made him dread the worst. She picked some rock bands and while Steve didn’t want to play on these stereotypes, he wasn’t thrilled to think she may become one of these brooding alternative kids dressed in black. She was feisty, but she was a radiating sun that he would rather keep burning than get shrouded by dark clouds.

And so when he heard the door slam loudly, he sighed softly, recognising an end of an era when he heard it.

Max stomped into the kitchen, fuming.

“They are cutting down the art department funds,” she said without prompting, her bag dropped unceremoniously on the floor.

That was not what he was expecting.

“What?” he frowned, watching her open the fridge and grab a box of chocolate milk. She angrily stabbed it with the straw.

“Exactly! They are transforming the practice room into a gym, and Mr Eddie had to move all the instruments into his class and the drama club.”

And there it was. The famous Mr Eddie. He was the reason Max took a sudden interest in music, and apparently, now the reason she was so furious about school funding injustice. Steve sighed.

“Unfortunately, the school thinks liberal arts aren’t as important as sports.”

Max’s eyes narrowed as she studied him. Her gaze slid down to his ancient swimming team hoodie.

“But you don’t think so?” Right?” Her eyes narrowed threateningly. Steve scoffed.

“I might have been a jock in high school, but my best friend plays in an orchestra. I think the funds should be divided equally.”

“Good,” Max drew out like she was content for now, but he wasn’t completely off the hook yet. She sat down in front of him, sipping from the milk box and studying him. “All the after-school practice has to be done at the drama club, which makes the schedule really tight. You know Mr Eddie used to give guitar lessons there? Now he’ll have to do house calls.”

“Mhm,” Steve nodded, eyeing her wearily. He flipped the page of the magazine he wasn’t reading. 

“Mr Eddie used to practice there with his band too.”

“Mhm.”

“Now he has nowhere to do so.”

“Poor guy.”

“He said he’s looking for a place to practice. Told us to ask our parents.”

“Max…”

“We have a big garage.” 

“Max.”

“Steve.”

He sighed.

“I’ll think about it. If he doesn’t find a better place, he can give me a call.”

Max let out a victorious whoop, but he held out his hand to stop her.

“Max, I’m serious. Only as a last option.”

“Fine,” she rolled her eyes.

And so, about a week later, Steve was picking up his phone to an unfamiliar voice.

“Mr Harrington? I’m Eddie Munson, Max’s music teacher. She told me you have some garage space I could borrow?”

Steve looked at the ceiling, leaning against the wall.

“Did she say it was only a last resort thing?”

The man on the other side chuckled.

“Oh, believe me, I wouldn’t be bothering one of my student’s parents if I had other options.”

“Okay. What do you need then?”

“I’ll take whatever you can give me, honestly. I’m kind of desperate,” the man sighed, and Steve felt a bit bad. The guy just wanted someplace to practice his craft.

“Okay, okay. So… I have a two-car garage space, but it’s only my car and I can park at the curb, you could have the whole space to yourself. I’m home most afternoons, so as long as you’re not too loud and give me a heads-up, any day works.”

“Hello?” he frowned when only silence answered him, but soon the man on the other side was laughing.

“Wow, you’re just as nice as Mad Max claimed.”

“She did? I thought I was, and I quote, ‘a raisin in her cereal’.”

The other man burst out laughing and Steve smiled.

“Ah, I’m not going to reveal her soft spots any further then.”

“Maybe I should show you the place before you commit? It might not be big enough for your needs.”

The man on the other side hummed in thought.

“Yeah, good thinking. Is today fine? I’m finishing in a couple of hours.”

“Sure. Do you have something to write, I’ll give you the address.”

Three hours later, the doorbell rang and Steve wiped his hands on the towel to open the door.

Eddie Munson was nothing that he expected from a music teacher, but after a second thought was what he should have expected from a music teacher who Max said was cool.

“Eddie Munson,” the man introduced himself, extending his hand full of chunky metal rings.

“Steve Harrington,” Steve shook it, the fingers unexpectedly rough against his skin.

The guy was of a smaller build than him, on par with his profession. His long hair was tied back, revealing a row of silver earrings. He was wearing a band tee and a leather jacket. He didn’t look like a teacher at all.

Steve motioned him inside.

“Come on, I’ll show you the garage.”

“It’s not in the basement, right? Should I be worried?”

Steve gave him a puzzled look.

“You know, leading a stranger to your basement to never be heard of again?” Munson explained.

Steve raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, maybe not with the hawks I have for neighbours. Probably half the street knows I have a guest by now. So I better let you out at some point.”

“Some of these suburban moms should really get a job, huh?”

“They should, yeah.” Steve nodded, leading him through the kitchen to a plain side door. he opened it and flipped a switch. “Soo, that’s it. Would that work for you?”

The teacher stepped in, passing by Steve to look around. The garage was big, made for two cars, with only Steve’s Beamer taking up half the space. Besides some spare tires and boxes of Christmas decorations, there was nothing else inside. 

The man spread his arms, spinning around. Steve let out a surprised snort. The guy was probably his age and a teacher on top of that.

“That would be great, Mr Harrington! Are you sure about that? Like, sure-sure?” He stood in front of him, and Steve’s mind has already been set, even without the hope glistening in the man’s eyes.

“I’m a man of my word,” he nodded.

Munson swayed on his heels.

“We play metal, though? Might not be your thing.” He smiled weakly, like he was expecting a rejection. Steve frowned at him.

“If they let you do it in school, I think my garage will be fine. I have headphones, too.”

Munson beamed at him, dimples at all. And it was like a punch in the gut, a feeling he hadn’t felt since Max’s brother.

“Thank you.”

“No problem,” he nodded stiffly, blinded by the soft metalhead in front of him. What did Max get him into?

Speak of the devil, there was a distant slam of the front door from the inside of the house. Steve winced.

“Want me to let you out this way,” he pointed to the garage door. “She won’t let you go that easy.”

Mr Munson only laughed. 

“It’s not a problem. Mad Max is one of my favourite students.”

“I thought teachers aren’t supposed to play favourites?”

“I’m not the teacherest out there, truth be told.”

Steve eyed his ripped jeans.

“I can see that.”

He led them back to the kitchen, where Max was hidden head-first in the fridge. She leaned back when she heard the steps, and her eyes widened at the sight of two men.

“Mr Eddie!” She slammed the fridge close, and Steve winced as he heard the bottles inside rattle against one another. “You’ll be using our garage?”

“Seems so, kiddo.”

Max made a victorious fist pump.

“Mike’s gonna be so jealous!”

Munson let out a startled laugh, while Steve scrunched his nose. 

“Don’t tell that’s all this is about. I thought we were doing something nice for Mr Munson.”

“We are, we are!” she placated him quickly, waving her hands. “Pissing off Mike is just a bonus. A very nice bonus.” She grinned sweetly.

“You’re, um…” Steve looked to the side to see the man scratching his cheek awkwardly. “The only parent who agreed. Most of them don’t trust me because I play metal.”

“Steve isn’t like that!” Max reassured quickly. “He’s not a judgmental bigot!”

Steve gawked at her choice of words while Munson laughed.

“A judgmental bigot wouldn’t raise such a great kid.”

“Duh.” Max beamed and Steve warmed all over. 

Being a single father was frowned upon even without their backstory. And Max’s attitude usually fuelled negative comments about his parenting. So it was nice to hear something good for a change. Maybe Steve could even make a new friend in this shitty town.

The teacher stayed for a coffee and insisted on being called Eddie. Steve found out he and his band had a show in a few weeks and were planning a small tour across the state over the upcoming break. But most of the visit was just him listening to Max and her teacher talking about bands he had no idea about. 

“I’ll tell the boys, and we could come over on Thursday? If that’s okay,” Eddie cocked his head as they led him to the door. 

“Sure. Works for me.”

“Sweet,” Eddie smiled, and again it did something pleasant to Steve’s heart. “See you tomorrow then, Red.” He fist-bumped the girl. “And you, Steve,” he raised his fist towards him. It took Steve a second to react and knock it with his own, but Eddie didn’t seem to mind. He waved at them, and soon Steve was watching a ratty black van speed away from his curb.

“I told you he was cool!”

“Uh-huh.” Steve closed the door. “You did.”

[that-ineffable-devil]

Rainbow in the Dark | Chapter 4

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Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7

Author's Note: This is a glimpse into Steve's home life with his parents--I don't expect we'll see much of them after this, but we need to lay the groundwork for his relationship with them as well as the dynamic between himself and Tommy. While he won't see Tommy for what he is, yet, this is the seed that blooms by the end of S1 of the show's canon. I promise he won't always suffer so much!

CONTENT WARNING: Most of this chapter has a humming undercurrent of Steve's anxiety with Tommy and his father. It also ends with an intense confrontation with his father. There's no physical abuse, but he does yell at and heavily insult Steve. As with Chapter 3, I've placed the confrontation under the Read More cut so it can be avoided, if necessary.

Chapter 4: An Only Child in an Only Room

Steve bumped harshly into Tommy as he rounded the corner on the way to his next class, sending the other boy crashing to the floor.

“T-Tommy! Oh, man, I’m sorry—let me…” he rushed out, reaching down to help Tommy up.

The grimace on the boy’s face made Steve’s heart drop into his stomach. Was Tommy hurt? Did he hurt him? Anxiety welled up in him like a tidal wave as his eyes darted all over the other boy, searching for injuries.

Tommy’s grimace twisted into something like rage as he slapped Steve’s hand away and stood up.

“I’m fine, but you should pay more attention, Harrington,” he spat out, the words laced with venom.

Tommy had never spoken to him like this, and as the anxiety boiled over into fear, he searched the boy’s freckled face for a reason.

His friend continued to glare coldly at him as he shifted his backpack to his other shoulder.

“So. Have a good time with your mystery girl today?”

Steve though Tommy sounded hurt—or jealous? But why? Tommy had never seemed to mind him hanging out with girls before—not that it happened often. Tommy didn’t know he’d been working on his essay with Jonathan, right? And why would that make him jealous? Steve decided he must be misreading things again—emotions were tricky, and he wasn’t the best at reading them. Attempting to defuse the situation, he adopted a sheepish smile and looked away from Tommy, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand.

“Oh…y-yeah, it was great. Lotta fun.”

“I bet,” Tommy replied, voice still chilly and edged.

Steve shuffled his feet—maybe Tommy was feeling neglected? He hadn’t spent as much time with his best friend this week, so maybe Tommy thought he was abandoning him for some girl. Steve swallowed the panic that rose in his throat as he thought of losing his best friend. He couldn’t panic—now was the time for action.

“So, uh, I know we haven’t had as much time to hang out this week so I thought, maybe, if you want, you could come over to my place this weekend? My dad’s headed out of town Saturday morning, so we could pretty much have full reign of the place and stuff…” Steve stammered out, counting the scuffs on the floor because he couldn’t stand the sight of Tommy’s anger.

The silence stretched on, thicker and more cloying than it had in the library—like it would drown them if they didn’t break its surface. If Steve had looked up, he may have caught Tommy’s expression shift from cold rage to cruel calculation. When he finally met the other boy’s gaze, Tommy had schooled his face into a friendly, but devious expression—nothing out of the ordinary.

“Yeah, that’d be cool. Can I come over tonight though and stay the weekend? My dad has some ‘business friends’ coming over this weekend and I have zero interest in being their beer gopher.”

Steve smiled brightly.

“Absolutely! That’d be awesome!”

The rest of the school day passed in a blur. Though he’d been happy to agree to Tommy’s request—anything to quell the impending Hagan Wrath—he was a bit worried that he hadn’t gotten permission first. He soothed the anxiety by reminding himself that Harringtons were nothing if not impeccable hosts, and to refuse to let Tommy stay after the invitation was offered would be a grave offense to the Hagans.

He just hoped that his father would forget about it before he returned from his business trip. That his mother wouldn’t remind him.

As Steve and Tommy climbed into the back seat of his mother’s Beemer, he decided to rip the metaphorical Band-Aid off.

“Hey Mom! Tommy’s staying over this weekend—that okay?” His voice is bright and high, as if in excitement—but it was really nerves.

“My parents are entertaining business clients this weekend, Mrs. Harrington, and they’d really appreciate not having to worry about me while they’re hosting,” Tommy added in a sickly-sweet voice as he closed the car door. “I’m sure they’d gladly repay the favor.”

“Of course, dears, that’ll be just fine,” Steve’s mother replied, not turning to face them.

To anyone else, she may have sounded a little resigned but cheerful. Steve knew that something else simmered below her words, and he felt his stomach tighten as he thought of his father. If he’d already had a bad day…Steve swallowed thickly, trying to focus on anything but his thoughts. But Tommy was unusually quiet, leaving him to stew in his apprehension.

Steve just hoped his father wouldn’t do anything in front of Tommy—he felt he was already on thin ice there, though he couldn’t understand why.

As the three of them filed quietly into the Harringtons’ foyer, Steve noted his father’s luggage was already packed and ready near the entryway, their black leather and scarlet zippers a stark contrast against the neutral wall. While Richard Harrington firmly believed in being prepared for any situation, Steve thought it looked like an awful lot more luggage than normal for one of his short business trips. His mother walked past the luggage without a second glance and without a word to either boy, both of whom had stopped to hang up their backpacks.

“Richard, we have a guest!” she called out to the house, her voice loud but neutral.

Steve’s stomach twisted into knots as he heard the door to his father’s study open with the slightest click and squeak. His chest grew tighter as his father’s Oxfords clacked heavily against the floor as he approached. He wanted to bolt—to run to his room with Tommy and hide there until his father had left on his trip. But his legs were frozen, his sneakers glued to the floor. There’d be no running.

His father approached the boys as his mother finished hanging her hat and coat—she exited toward the kitchen without sparing any of them another glance, but her shoulders were as stiff as the click of her heels on the hard floor. Steve wanted to look down, look away—look anywhere his father wasn’t. But Harringtons always look men in the eye, his father had said. If a man couldn’t meet your eyes, then he was lying or a coward—both unacceptable traits for a Harrington. So, he met his father’s eyes as he approached.

“Ah, the young Hagan, I see,” his father said as he sized up Tommy, his voice deep and booming, no expression on his face.

“Yes, sir,” Tommy replied with his most winning smile.

Steve could practically hear the dimples in his voice, the ghost of a smile flickering across his face before his father fixed him with a cold glare.

“I don’t recall you asking permission to invite a friend over this weekend, Steven.”

“W-well, I…um..”

“Oh my, did you forget darling?” Steve’s mother said, having returned to the doorway. “He asked me a few days ago and I told him it would be fine, knowing you’d be on your trip anyway. I’m certain I reminded you last night,” her eyes alight with something undefinable as she stared at the back of her husband’s head.

Shock ran through Steve’s entire body as he chanced a look at his mother. She caught his eye and gave the briefest breath of a smile and nod before her neutral expression returned.

Richard stared down his nose at Steve—he did not believe his boy had asked permission, but he couldn’t contradict his wife so openly—not in front of company, at least. He took a deep breath, eyes still fixed on his son.

“Ah, yes, now I remember,” he replied, tilting his head in her direction. “Well then, Mr. Hagan, it appears you are our most welcome guest.”

As his father turned to return to his study, Steve smiled at his mother in the distance. She nodded again, her dark brown eyes warm, but sad. When Steve turned to Tommy, relief washing over him, he noticed the other boy did not seem relieved—or even happy. He looked…annoyed? Frustrated? Disappointed? Before Steve could make sense of it, Tommy turned to him and smiled widely, dispelling his concern.

“Great!” Tommy said brightly. “Let’s go up to your room, we can hang out for a while before dinner, right?”

“Yeah, of course!” Steve replied cheerfully, and they raced each other up the stairs to his room.

Dinner at the Harrington house was always a quiet affair. Although they all sat around the solid oak dining table, there was rarely any talk. Steve’s parents would sit at opposite ends of the table—his father reading the Wall Street Journal, his mother keeping her eyes on her meal. Steve had hoped he and Tommy could eat quickly and then escape, but Tommy seemed determined to engage his father in conversation. It was maddening. Steve had even tried kicking the other boy under the table, but Tommy had turned so that Steve’s feet couldn’t reach him. What was he doing?

“So, Mr. Harrington, did you see Steve’s last game? He was totally the MVP,” Tommy remarked with a grin.

Steve’s father huffed a bit, eyes still on his paper.

“Ah, yes, I heard about that. I was, unfortunately, away on business for that game.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll get another chance, especially now that Steve knows he’s passing English lit, isn’t that right Steve?”

Steve squeaked.

“What? I mean, yeah, I am…but…”

“Steve, man, you have got to tell me how you finished that ridiculous essay so quickly!” Tommy interrupted.

“Well, I…I told you; I went to the library during lunchtime all week.” Steve stuttered out, giving Tommy a confused expression.

“Right, right, the library. Good place to write about Hemingway.”

“Yeah, I thought…”

“And, of course, you got help from that weird Byers kid, right?”

The deafening silence pressed so strongly around their ears that Steve could only hear the rush of his own blood.

“W-what?” Steve stammered, his heart speeding as heat flushed into his cheeks. What was Tommy on about?

“You know—Byers. Everyone saw you with him—you even stayed late to work with him, right?”

“I…I don’t,” Steve was panicking, his eyes flicking between his father and Tommy.

“Byers?” his father asked, his voice quiet but commanding.

Steve gulped, his throat suddenly dry and raw.

“You, a Harrington, have been spending time with a mangy Byers?”

His father was staring at his meal as he spoke, his voice calm and deep, though Steve could swear he heard the waver that preceded imminent rage.

“I…I was just…the paper…”

Steve’s voice was pleading as he looked toward his mother, who kept her head down and expression neutral, but he thought her eyes were closed as if resigned. The color drained out of Steve as he realized he would face this alone, so he channeled all his effort to stopping the oncoming tremors. Any sign of nervousness or fear showed weakness and unworthiness to Richard Harrington’s eyes.

“Mr. Hagan, I’m afraid you will need to excuse us a moment, I need to have a word with my son,” his father said pointedly, looking at Tommy.

Tommy nodded, and as Steve stood from the table to follow his father into his study, he could have sworn that Tommy looked pleased—triumphant, even. It was bewildering and surreal.

Steve flinched as the door clicked shut behind him, his father walking behind his rich mahogany desk to face him. He gestured to the uncomfortable wooden chair placed under the ceiling light in front of the desk.

“Sit, Steven,” he said calmly, his fingers resting on the desktop.

Steve obeyed, his entire body a coiled spring waiting to pop. His father did not sit, opting instead to tower over his son, his face half-hidden by shadows.

“Is Mr. Hagan correct? Did you skip your lunches—perhaps even some classes—to spend time with that…Byers boy?”

His father’s voice was quiet and collected, but Steve knew it was merely the calm before the storm. If he chose his words carefully, he could minimize the damage.

“I had an English literature paper due today and had struggled to find a copy of any of Hemingway’s works. I went to the library on Monday and Jonathan and I fou…” Steve started to explain.

“Jonathan?” his father spat, as though the name were cheap wine to his refined palate.

“Y…um…the B-Byers boy,” Steve corrected himself.

His father’s eyes grew darker as he seemed to grow impossibly taller. Steve cleared his throat.

“Um, we—B-Byers and I—we both found the last Hemingway b-book at the same t-time, so we thought, since we b-both hadn’t f-finished the essay…” Steve’s voice failed as his father crossed his arms before him.

“Let me make sure I understand this. You, a Harrington, waited until the last minute to prepare for and write your essay. Rather than ask your parents to simply purchase you one of Hemingway’s novels, you sought the last one available in the library, and once finding it, agreed to share it with a Byers so that you could both write your procrastinated essays—am I correct?”

Steve’s eyes prickled with tears, but he held them back, refusing to break eye contact with his father.

“Y-yes, sir.”

“You then spent your lunch every day this week with said Byers writing your individual essays—all in close quarters, in public. Correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And am I to believe you also skipped classes to spend time with this boy?”

“N-no!” Steve shouted, fear seeping through. “We were just sharing the book so we could write our papers, nothing else! It…it wasn’t even fun. H-he was…he was weird.”

“Could you not have passed the book back and forth, each taking it for one night each week before Friday?”

“W-well…I guess we d-didn’t think about that…” Steve admitted, deflating like a punctured balloon.

“Of course, you didn’t,” his father sighed in frustration. “You both clearly have the brain power of an uneducated slug. I expect more from you Steven—you’re a Harrington and that comes with conditions. You do not fraternize with people like the Byers’.”

Steve was silent for a moment.

“Why, though?”

“Excuse me?”

“Why can’t I f-fraternize with the Byers’?”

“Those ‘people’ are trash, you embarrassment. If you associate with trash, you become it, and I’ll be damned before I let any son of mine become one of them.”

“But...w-what do you mean? J…the Byers boy seemed n-nice…”

“Stop stuttering, you idiot! Speak with confidence or do not speak at all!”

Steve curled in on himself, unable to stop the involuntary reaction to his father’s raised voice.

“Listen to me, you will learn that some people are simply worthless—beneath you and undeserving of your attention. While you may be a father’s biggest disappointment, you are still a Harrington, and I’ll not see our good name sullied by your association with a Byers.”

Steve blinked rapidly, fighting back the torrent of tears that threatened to spill over. His father leaned in over his desk suddenly, his facial features suddenly distorted and made grotesque from the light of his desk lamp. Steve flinched again.

“Now, because we have esteemed company tonight, you will not be sent to confinement. But if I hear even a whisper of a rumor that you are spending any more time with this Byers bastard, you won’t see the light of day unless you’re headed to or from school. Am I clear?”

His father’s voice was like ice—cold, calculating, and utterly merciless.

Steve, still in shock, took too long to answer.

“DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?!” his father shouted in his face.

“Y-yes, sir!” Steve squeaked out, holding back the sob in his chest.

“Good. Get out of my sight, you’re done with dinner. I’ll send Tommy up to your room later.”

Steve nodded, leaving his chair and trying to make a quick exit.

“Boy!” his father said curtly behind him. “Look at me.”

Steve turned his face toward his father, hoping the tears weren’t as visible as they felt.

“I expect silence from your room tonight—I have an early flight and will not tolerate being kept awake. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” Steve said with as much confidence as possible.

“Dismissed,” his father replied.

Steve calmly exited the study, walked back down the hallway, then took the stairs two at a time, afraid he could no longer hold the tears at bay. Why had Tommy talked about his paper? How did he know he’d been working with Jonathan? He said everyone had seen him, but they can’t have—they’d usually worked at a table tucked behind rows and rows of shelves and books. And Tommy knew Richard Harrington’s views—didn’t he know how his father would react? He’d seen how Steve’s father treated him before, so why would he even risk inciting his rage? Was Tommy mad at him? Had he done something wrong?

Steve flung himself onto his bed after silently closing his bedroom door. He tried unsuccessfully to avoid thinking of Jonathan, waiting for him in the library on Monday, not knowing that Steve would never show. He tried to ignore the ache in his heart as the grief of losing something so good so quickly. As the sobs threatened to erupt from his chest, he hoped he could keep them quiet enough to not reach his father, and prayed that he’d be able to push the rest down so Tommy would never see him like this.

He couldn't bear to lose Tommy, too.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7

Post Notes: "Baby" Steve is breaking my heart, y'all, and I'm ready to throw hands at Richard--and even Tommy. That little jerk knows exactly what he's doing--whatever his reasons, he shouldn't do Steve like that.

Chapter 5 Preview: Jonathan Byers can't believe that Steve Harrington, friend of Hawkins' resident bully Tommy Hagan, is actually a kind and decent person--and even stranger, Steve seems to want to be his friend. After a restless weekend trying to make sense of the last week, Jonathan is excited to see his friend Steve in the library again on Monday. But he doesn't know that Steve's weekend had been an entirely different experience, and everything was about to change. Forever.

Thank you to all readers who have made it this far! Likes, comments, and shares are deeply appreciated! I, like Steve, am heavily motivated by praise.

Credits

Bat dividers courtesy of StrayWords.

Fic title courtesy of Rainbow in the Dark by Dio.

Chapter title courtesy of Suffer the Children by Tears for Fears.

[aralisj]

I've been reading a lot of Steddie fics recently and I've been thinking about how diverse the backstories for Eddie are. We know like five things about the guy and it's kind of great? Liberating almost?

He was doomed by the narrative and now we get to imagine the whys and hows and every writer puts their stamp on it and the contradictions are honestly so cool.

His parents are dead, no, his mom is dead and his dad's in jail, his dad was a drunk and his mom was the best, actually they disowned him when they found out he was gay. His uncle Wayne is gay, he's an ally, he's an oblivious but well intentioned man. Eddie liked Steve since his King days, no, he hated him, they were actually hooking up before the Upside Down thing, they weren't hooking up but they were friends. Eddie is flagging, he doesn't know code but black is his favorite color, he saw a biker with a hanky in his pocket and just thought it was cool. Eddie is a clueless small town gay, he's trans, he goes to gay bars every weekend, he's in the middle of a sexuality crisis. He's a virgin, he's a sado top, he's bi, he's 100% gay, he's a literal whore blowing guys at The Hideout for money.

I love it. Goncharov that backstory. Self-project as much as you want. Blorbo the hell out of that funky little dude.

[imsodishy]

I need another wip like i need a fucking hole in the head... but I am being plagued by thought of a what-if? situation for harringroveson. Like;

Instead of white-knuckling through years of strained, WASPish, unhappiness, Steve’s parents went through an awful, acrimonious divorce sometime when Steve was in grade school. Steve was treated like nothing more than a chess piece in the negotiations, same as the cars and the lake house.

It makes Steve angry and bitter, turns him into a little punk and a delinquent. He's not worried about being an embarrassment anymore. God he hopes he embarrasses his parents every goddamn day of their lives. He's not a lifestyle accessory, he's not a jewel in their collection. He is a Problem, and proud of it.

Meanwhile, in California, Neil and Susan got together way sooner (like maybe even Susan lied to Neil and he thinks Max is his, i dunno), so she's been Billy’s step-mother since he was like 4.

So she's actually been a major presence in his life and influence on him. Billy’s... quieter. He's not aggressive and brash. He tries not to make waves. After the disaster that is little league Susan and Billy decide that maybe sports just isn't for him, nothing that Neil might get too invested in. So, Billy just tries to keep his head down. Does well in school. Really well, actually. He's kind of a nerd, and a loner. It doesn't really help (he's not the son Neil wanted, too meek, too quiet, too bookish). Susan patches him up every time, holds his hand with a strained smile and says they'll just have to try harder, and Billy just chokes on his anger.

I'm fuzzier on the details of exactly what would have to change in Eddie’s life to turn him into a jock (largely because his backstory is fuzzier) but I'll get him there!

Maybe he doesn't go directly to Uncle Wayne after his dad gets locked up long term. Maybe he's placed with a foster family that's much less permissive of Eddie letting his freak flag fly, much more invested in him being normal. And Eddie, unaware that Uncle Wayne is even a possibility, is pretty invested in not giving them a reason to send him back to a group home.

So they try sports! Anything involving a ball is a lost cause (Eddie’s hand-eye leaves much to be desired) but track is kind of a revelation. An outlet for a lot of the excess energy he's always had that made him 'difficult'. And he likes it, being alone with his thoughts, he can think about whatever weird thoughts he wants while he runs and no one ever needs to know, or call him a freak about it. And, he does genuinely enjoy running, who'da thought? Look at that, he can be normal, and popular!

Ultimately he does end up with Wayne in Hawkins, just later (maybe the family he was with finally get pregnant and start their "real" family, i dunno), like right as he's starting highschool. It's strained between them, because Eddie’s really invested in the idea of being normal, and living with his (admittedly, very kind Uncle) in a trailer doesn't really fit the act.

Anyway, like I said, plagued with thoughts... and i really don't need another wip...

[justkending]

Mr. & Mrs. Hunt (Chapter 4/7)

Mini-Series Summary: Two of the most stubborn people in the group partnered together for an undercover mission are also the two people with the most hatred for each other, so what could go wrong? Or is it, what COULDN’T go wrong?…

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger Reader

Word Count: 3900+

A/N Note: Only a few more chapters to go (I think, but we're both lost on how long this series will be.) Thank you guys for reading and as always, thank you for the love and support!

____________

Chapter 4:

Y/N's POV

It wasn’t him. It was 100% me. I did this to myself. I built a wall so quickly around him because I didn’t want to like the man behind my misery. 

My teammates knew enough about my backstory to think they had an idea of my reason for joining SHIELD: helping the little guy because, at one point, you were the little guy—the manipulated guy—the one who no one saved, so you had to save yourself—and now anyone else who can’t do it for themselves. 

Yet, there were so many other things I kept for myself, and things files couldn’t tell you. No files existed of them, and I’m glad because I didn’t want the pity. 

James Buchanan Barnes was the reason behind my abuse. Not personally, but my abuser was obsessed with his accomplishments under the German and Russian terrorist organizations and wanted to make a female, more skilled, discrete, and sleeker version of the Winter Soldier. 

Who fucking didn’t, right? God, every goddamn evil bastard on this godforsaken shit show of a planet wants to remake something that was a once in a lifetime kind of thing and crack more than a few eggs to get to that point. Selfish asshole…

Being constantly compared to him and then beaten for not hitting the unreachable mark of the man I was ‘of no comparison to’ after years of trying to hit that standard, and then being asked to be on a team with him? A lot of emotions hit me like a train when I got that news. 

Will I amount to being the trained spy and agent I am for Shield with him by my side? Will he make me look like a completely pointless addition to the team? After five years of already working with the Avengers and then learning who the Winter Solider was? Steve’s best friend and probably the only person he could relate to in their journey? All the way to having to work with him… The change-up was instantaneous, where I would have begged for baby steps. 

Then again, when has the world made it easy for me?

So yes. I was an ass and kept him further than arm's length away to stay safe from learning that he was a good guy when I wasn’t ready to like him yet. I had a lot of trauma I never thought I’d have to work through with the infamous man himself, and that irritation and annoyance just continued when he finally matched my energy, and we never strayed from that relationship until… now.

And here he was, genuinely asking what HE did wrong when I was the reason for our enemies’ plot line. 

“Bucky, I don’t think I can talk about this right now,” I breathed out slowly, feeling the tears prick in my eyes.

It had been a minute since I cried and felt this vulnerable, and I couldn’t seem to stop it. I think subconsciously, I didn’t want to stop it, but my mind was begging my body to hold out until he was out of the room. 

“Y/N, if I did something to you, I didn’t realize-” 

“You wouldn’t have known,” I whisper, not trusting my voice to stay steady, but also not wanting to put anymore of the blame on him from here on out. 

He wasn’t a bad guy.

He had proved himself time and time again to be a really good guy. Even when he broke and decided he hated me back, he still had his moments when he put it aside and showed chivalry. I admired him for it even when I ignored the admiration. 

Makes it hard to fully hate a guy who made sure ladies weren’t opening any doors for themselves. Or a man who remembered Morgan’s birthday and bought her an ice cream cake before stealing Steve’s shield to sled down a hill her dad told her not to. Or a man you treat like absolute shit 99% of the time, and he still checks on you when you have nightmares, and he grabs water and an ice pack and helps you even out your breathing before waiting for you to go back to sleep. 

I didn’t ask him for the help, and he never mentioned the handful of times he fell into the routine of soothing me back to sleep. Never brought it up, never made me feel like I owed him, and never hinted at remembering such kindness. 

But now?

“You wouldn’t have known why it started this way to begin with. And you likely won’t,” I sigh, breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth before turning around; a lot more put together, even if it was just a mask I had learned to put on most of my life. 

“I don’t understand,” Bucky furrowed his eyebrows at my disposition. 

“I don’t expect you to, but maybe we should go to sleep and talk about it later. It’s getting late, and you have to go to your ‘job’ tomorrow,” I say with hand quotes. “We have to keep the ruse going.” 

“A few hours of sleep doesn’t affect me,” Bucky shook his head, and I could see him itching to put his hands back on me, but he held back. “Please. I need to know what the hell I did.” 

“Again, Bucky,” I say sternly this time, all emotion I’m struggling to keep at bay shoved down. “You are not at fault, and tomorrow I’ll talk to you, but for now, I need to sleep on it.”

He read my face for lies, and I kept it neutral. I wasn’t going to break here. Now was not the time. I needed space to think about how I was going to approach this after so long of avoiding it and being put on the spot wasn’t going to work for me. 

“Ok,” he said, softer than I think I ever heard him talk. His eyes were soft and sensitive, and I didn’t know how I felt about it…

He turned and walked out of my room, gently shutting the door behind him and turning off the overhead light he had originally flashed on. 

I didn’t instantly head straight to bed. I stared at the doorway in the dark, seeing the faint silhouette of the barrier between us. He was still on the other side, and I could hear his heart rate higher than normal.

This was affecting him more than I thought it would. Why was he so worried about what I thought of him? He didn’t seem bothered by my disinterest in the past. Or at least I didn’t figure he did. 

____________________

When I woke up, Bucky was already gone. His truck, normally in the driveway, was missing, and I knew he had taken off for our mission report. 

Thankful, I took the time to make my coffee, sit on the front porch, and watch the neighborhood take on its morning routine. 

People were on runs with their family dogs, moms were doing their morning walks with strollers, some neighbors were out already tending to their gardens, and everything suburban seemed to be on track. 

Towards the end of my cup, I notice Ms. Bauer coming back from her jog she must have taken earlier than the others. 

“Oh, hello, neighbor!” she shouted when she spotted me, uniformly checking our house like her head was on a swivel if she heard a pen drop in it. 

Still in her jog, she sashayed over to my lawn, and I mumbled, “Here we go,” smiling at her as she followed the sidewalk to our steps. 

“How are you doing today, Bethanne?” I grin standing from my patio chair and going down the steps to meet her at the bottom of the flight. “Is there a run club I didn’t know about? You’re the 10th person I’ve seen getting a head start on their steps for the day.” 

She laughed and waved a hand at me before taking an earbud out, pausing her music on her watch, and placing her hands on her hips as she looked up at me. 

“There is actually a mommy and me walking club on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Depending on the weather, of course, but who knows,” she grinned up at me. “Maybe you can be joining it sooner than you thought.”

“Maybe not as soon as you think,” I laughed, holding my mug tighter with both hands so I wouldn’t strangle her instead and leaning on the banister. “We wanted at least a year in the house by ourselves before we add another set of feet to the chaos,” I scrunch my nose and add, “but I’m excited for the day Beau and I have a mini-version of us running around here.” 

“Speaking of Beau,” she grins, looking to the driveway. “Where is he today? He’s usually home with you most of the time, right?”

“Oh, it was time for him to get back to work. He took off for a few weeks to get moved in and spend time with me before we had to get back to the real world,” I answer as planned. 

“That’s right. I think I remember you guys talking about that at the first block party,” she nodded, watching me carefully for slip-ups. “Can you believe it’s only been two weeks of you guys here? I feel like you two have been a part of the community for at least a year.” 

“You’re sweet,” I gush convincingly and look out to the neighborhood for effect. “You guys have really taken us in as your family, and you don’t know how much I appreciate it. We appreciate it,” I correct and look off in the distance like I’m thinking of my sweet, doting husband when, in reality, I was thinking of the day this mission was over and I could carry on with my normal life. “I don’t think I’ve mentioned this. Beau isn’t one to really talk about it, but his family life wasn’t the best. They’ve practically been strangers since he turned 18.” 

“Oh, is that so?” she inched up, feeding on the new (fake) information. 

I nod. “When we started dating, my family took him in as his own- well, I only had my dad around for most of my life, but they got along really well. He passed three years ago,” I give a tight-lipped look as I look down at my feet in sadness. “They developed a bond, which wasn’t hard considering who my dad was. He was the best, though we might be biased in thinking that. Taught Beau how to do a lot of things dads are supposed to teach their sons. Well,” I sniffle for added effect. “Anyway, we’re kinda on our own now. No extended family we’re close with, and with my dad’s passing, it’s really just us. So when I say we’re grateful for y’all’s hospitality, I mean it.”

She seemed to buy it, as much as an undercover convict could, and smiled kindly up at me before placing a hand on my arm. 

“Of course, sweetheart. We’re just lucky you two are some of the good ones. You’d be surprised who’s come in and hasn’t made the cut. Lawns in disarray, unfriendly attitudes, and you know the list,” she winks and rolls her shoulders back before stretching in her spot. “Speaking of being lovely neighbors, how would you and Beau feel about a dinner at our house? Reggie and I have been talking about having you over for quite some time now, and I think we can finally host.” Before I could ask, she stopped me and explained. “Kitchen renovation. It was and still is a pain in my ass, but it should be doable for a small dinner.”

“That sounds lovely,” I beam as much as I could act. It was the perfect next step, and the bait had been taken, but a part of me wanted to settle things with Bucky in our personal dispute before we put on our masks for the two main perpetrators. “Let me check with him and see what his schedule will look like now. He’s getting some new orders today, and some things are changing in the company. We’ll know more tonight. But we will for sure make it work.” 

___________

After Bethanne told me some useless neighborhood gossip, she excused herself, and I went back inside to get ready for the day and consider how I would approach Bucky on our issue. 

I knew it was time to be truthful, even if I dreaded it. Bucky had proven time and time again that he wasn’t the enemy, and I needed to deal with my issues. I was tired of wasting energy on hatred and anger, and these last two weeks proved that Bucky wasn’t the one who should have been receiving the blunt force end of my trauma. 

I had until four in the evening to come up with an idea of how I wanted to go about it, but I had stress cleaned instead and couldn’t come up with a non-terrifying way to approach this life-changing conversation.

Finally, I found it best we get dinner in the town over (as not to have any peaking eyes or eavesdropping ears as we dive into my life story I hadn’t indulged to near anyone before), and I would talk to Bucky there. However, plans changed when Bucky came home. 

From my spot in the kitchen, I heard him shout in his domesticated voice across the street, “No, that sounds perfect! We’d love to!” The door opened just as he finished his sentence, and his voice became clearer. 

I moved around the island and slowly walked toward the door to get a view of who he was talking to, and I noticed Bethanne at her mailbox waving to Bucky. 

I furrowed my eyebrows at the obvious commitment he put us in, and after he waved back, he shut the door behind him, looking at me, and dropped the act quickly. 

“What did you just agree to?” I asked, nodding my head behind him. 

He looked me up and down, and I almost forgot I had picked a new, semi-fancier sundress for our “surprise anniversary dinner” (at least the front I was trying to put on for getting out of town without too much suspicion).

(Make whatever color you please or change it in your mind if you want! I'm choosing to pick it as a darker red.)

“You look nice,” he says as his eyes trail back up to my own, and I swear I see him take a gulp. 

“What did you agree to?” I asked again, focused more on what he had decided for us regarding Bethanne. 

His previous shocked face faded away, and he rolled his eyes slightly before throwing his work bag to the side.

“Bethanne invited us to dinner. I said yes because we need to build a relationship with them,” he replied stoically, as if my question was dumb and pointless. 

I just stared at him and let my “personal vendetta” look rest on my face. He studied me and had the decency to shrink ever so slightly. 

“What?”

“What happened to discussing things first?” I said in an eerily calm voice. 

“I didn’t think accepting dinner at a home we’ve been trying to get inside of for the last two weeks is something we’d have to discuss.” And now he straightens up, throwing his empty arms to the side. 

A few seconds later, I yelled, “You dipshit!” in a muffled grunt, keeping my voice down as much as I could handle and balling my fists in anger. 

His eyebrows shoot up and he huffs with his chest puffed out as he marches to me. I see the intent in his eyes, and I start walking away towards the opposite room closest, needing a minute not to lose my shit, and if I have to look into his stupid azure eyes like he wants to read everything passing through my mind, I’ll break.

“Don’t walk away from me,” he growls, and I shoot him a look over my shoulder as I shift my pace and head down the hallway to the bedrooms. “Y/N, stop being a stubborn ass and-”

“Unless you want a heel thrown at your head, and you’re welcome for being civil about this, I suggest you leave me alone,” I shout behind me, turn sharply to the left, and go to my room. 

“I don’t even know what THIS is! You looked at me like you wanted to kill me when I walked in, and I haven’t even talked to you today besides updates about work,” he said just as I slammed the door in his face. “Oh, real mature. Shut the door like an adolescent. Wait, I forgot. You are one…” He mumbles the last part and I hear him lean on the door.

Instantly, I whip the door open, and he doesn’t have time to predict his next move. He falls flat on his back on the wood floors of my room, only padded by a thin oriental rug I made Tony buy me. 

He’s winded from the fall and clutches his chest as I bend down next to him and say, “I said. Leave. Me. The. Fuck. Alone.” I stare at him for a second, solidifying my threat. I stand to walk out and only give him a glance as I pass the doorway. 

_____________

Bucky’s POV:

I left her the fuck alone. 

I may have been royally pissed (that is a blatant ass understatement), but something about the look in Y/N’s eyes told me not to push unless I wanted to wake up with my head no longer attached to my body. 

I was too scared to leave her room in fear I’d run into her when she wasn’t ready and risk taking the chances of the guillotine earlier, so I sat on her bed and tried to rack my brain to where I slipped up to cause whatever the hell I walked in to…

I knew almost instantly and realized what a stupid, simple mistake it was. Bethanne asking me to dinner set her off, I knew. But her comment about talking with each other before making decisions told me my mistake. 

Something happened I didn’t know of, and I may have just fucked whatever it was up. As for what it is? No goddamn clue. But using context clues and just basic reading of the body language, Y/N had already made a plan, and I threw it out the window, likely.

I heard footsteps before I could think further, and Y/N appeared in the doorway, taking a deep breath. She would have convinced me she was going to be civil if it wasn’t for her history, but I was excited to see which lane she chose. 

“One thing before I bite my tongue,” she says in almost a whisper, like she’s trying to keep her frustrations at bay. “You make me want to shave my head like Britney Spears in 2007 75% of the time. This moment was almost a tipping point for that kind of outcome..” She lets out a long breath like she passed the test of keeping it together. 

Surprisingly a lot more tame than I was expecting. 

“Glad you got that out of your system. Now, please tell me what the hell happened?” I asked, keeping my guard up in case she resorted to her typical insults and fury. 

“Oh, now you want to communicate,” she mocks and walks to the bed, harshly sitting next to me but leaving a copious amount of space between us. 

I let it slide because I know she’s fighting bigger demons, like the urge to insult me, until I personally dig my own grave and say goodbye to my cruel reality. 

“Bethanne was goading us,” she answers, thankfully getting right to the point. “Something about her proposition seemed off, and I wanted to clear some things up with you before we jumped on the offer.”

I nodded my head, seeing that my instantaneous reply wasn’t thought out. That was on me, yes, but she also reacted extremely dramatically, expressing an odd feeling about the interaction instead of hard proof. 

“What did she ask, and what was off about it?” I question, trying to stay mission based because something seemed off still.

“It wasn’t what it was but how she was asking. Something in her tone and the way she was looking at our house and me. Like she was trying to take in detail after detail up close. Checking for cracks in the foundation,” she answers and turns to me just slightly. “She also said her kitchen was under renovation, and something felt off about it.” 

“The vibes about our neighbor getting a kitchen renovation made you knock the wind out of me when you opened your door?” I said before I could think, but I didn’t budge, my furrowed eyebrows aimed at her. 

She matches my glare and turns her body fully to me. 

“It seemed like an excuse,” she answers slowly. 

“To what? Host a dinner? That’s kind of the opposite effect. Who would want to host a dinner when you have kitchen renovations? It means they trust us if they’re willing to let us see a house that’s not perfect like the front they put on.” 

‘That’s what you get from it, but I think they just planted a little seed of their own.” 

“What do you even mean?”

“Kitchen Reno? That’s an excuse to say, ‘Oh, Charlotte, I can’t cook the chicken pot pie I was going to make for you two because our new oven hasn’t been delivered and installed yet. You know? Because we have the kitchen under renovation? I completely forgot,’” She acted in a convincing Bethanne impersonation and then quickly turned back to serious. 

“You got that from a kitchen reno comment?” I deadpanned after a minute. 

“I got that from understanding women masterminds who know how to manipulate a situation. I am that woman, so I think I can read them pretty well,” she says confidently back. 

Touché.

“And what if you’re wrong?” Her bitchface grew at my question. 

“First off, I’m not. Second off, even if I was wrong, we are supposed to consult each other about accepting invitations into the house of our suspect enemies,” she ran a hand through her hair, which I notice now looks styled differently. Did she curl it or have it blown out? And yes, I know what a blowout is. I have women friends and coworkers.

Yeah… I was in the wrong here, and that’s on me. I wasn’t thinking. I also had a long day snooping around for more information about this whole operation, but it isn’t necessarily an excuse… It’s not like  I haven’t worked on a case like this in the past. I mean, minus being fictitiously married to a coworker. 

“I’m sorry,” I say, and she gives me a weird look. “What?”

“I wasn’t expecting an apology,” she says, standing slowly and straightening her dress. 

“I know when to accept I made a mistake,” I shrug and stand as well. 

She studies my face like there's a retort that’s going to follow, but I just stare at her silently, communicating that I’m set on my apology. 

“Ok…” she drags out, watching me as she steps toward the door. “Well, I guess we need to get ready for tonight. Considering we have dinner. With our neighbors. And we need to set up bugs if possible.”

“Guess so,” I nod, crossing my arms. 

She stops suddenly and looks at me with a look of realization. “You’re in my room.” She steps to the side, leaving room for me to leave, and avoids eye contact. 

She’s still acting weird, but I need to change and get my head in the game for tonight, so I walk out with a subtle head nod as I leave.

Marvel Tags:

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My Lovelies Forever:

@natura1phenomenon​ @lauravicente​ @kakakatey​ @traceyaudette​ @notyourtypicalrose​ @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​ @sandlee44​ @thorne93​ @thefaithfulwriter1​ @essie1876​ @greyeyedsmile14​ @capsiclehan​  @xostephanie​ @averyrogers83​ @awesomenursingstudent​ @gh0stgurl​ @cs-please​ @jjlevin​ @rainbowkisses31​ @deannotmoose​ @their-bibliophile​ @kitkatd7​ @willowbleedsonpaper​ @mariaenchanted​ @snffbeebee​ @couldabeenamermaid​ @rebekahdawkins​​ @alyispunk​​ @billyseye @hallecarey1​​

Bucky Barnes Tags:

@chloe-skywalker​ @charmedbysarge​ @jbarness​ @bellamy-barnes​ @katiaw2​ @aikeia​ @stopjustlovethemcu​ @enchantedbarnes

Mr. & Mrs. Hunt Series:

@jackiehollanderr @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @theroyalmanatee @wintrsoldrluvr @alexakeyloveloki @learisa @bxckybxrnes24 @lillianacristina @selella @heletsmelovehim

[alaskan-wallflower]

steve being the one in the gang to deal the most with a toxic/fragile masculine mindset makes so much sense to me

we know steve has an abusive father, bad enough to the point he gets kicked out. i headcanon steve’s mom and dad got divorced (maybe steve’s mom even just got pregnant with steve to baby trap steve’s dad but that’s a talk for another day) but regardless the divorce was very very messy, and steve was like…3-4 at the time. however, his father used to have joint custody over him until eventually he managed to get full custody…but he was dealing with his own mental issues

steve was definitely told as a kid to ‘stop being a sissy and man up’ whenever he cried, his dad probably used some colourful language with him, was very emotionally abusive and manipulative…and steve just grew into it. and having a friend like soda totally throws him for a loop because soda will just…cry. in public, if he’s sad, happy, angry…tears. while steve is rock solid emotionally…at least he thinks he is. he gets a bit weirded out almost that soda can just cry whenever he wants and has definitely said some inappropriate things because it was all he knew. but soda is helping him heal.

idk. steve’s backstory is so unexplained and i just feel like he’s the one (besides maybe darry or dally) who deals with a more toxic/fragile masculinity mindset. they all do, but it’s rough for him. real rough.

[bigtreefest]

Chapter 1: The President’s Son

From: Guardian Angel Series

Pairing: (future) Mafia! Stucky x Bodyguard! Reader

Summary: A longtime client snubs you, causing you to leave the life you know

Word Count: 3,629

Content/Warnings: swears, patriarchy, weaponized incompetence, borderline mansplaining, yelling, fighting, mentions of nose picking, misogyny, secrets, explosions, mentions of weapons, strong female characters, no Steve or Bucky yet

A/N: Okay, here’s the start of something long-anticipated by me. I hope you enjoy! Your feedback is greatly appreciated, can’t wait to hear what you guys think!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Next >

You stood in the back of the banquet hall, eyes surveying the room like they did any other, as you tried to appear as nonchalant waitstaff for the function. That was your specialty: blending in to the background, and you were damn good at it. Tonight’s job was to do so as your were protecting the most important individuals entrusted to you: the First Lady and her son.

You moved with ease throughout the evening, keeping mobile with your head on a swivel, eyes never leaving your two clients for more than a couple seconds. After a cocktail hour, everyone had sat down for dinner and a round of awards and speeches, leaving you here for a relatively easy period.

You didn’t work alone, no. You were here as part of a group. Part of a company, actually, and it belonged to your father. He ran a security conglomerate which focused heavily on government contracting, ranging from secret service duties, to vehicle brigades, to protection and procurement of goods, virtual and physical, and you knew every single part of it. You loved your job, and you loved working with your dad. For as long as you could remember, you would spend all of your free time in his office with him as he went through schedules, and escape plans, and all sorts of strategies to keep his patrons and their assets safe. You were always flitting around, learning new things, earning you the nickname ‘tweety bird’ from him, which correlated to your codename Redwing.

You’d picked it all up so easily, you were a natural, which earned you your first presidential-adjacent gig much younger than anyone else around. Sure, it started as you going to school and posing as another student to protect the president’s son, even thought you were a few years out already, which wasn’t necessarily glamorous, since you were meant to fly under the radar, but it was an independent job. One that was coming to a close, though, as this was your eighth year of doing the same. Soon, the president would be out of office, and the security detail on his family would be greatly reduced, likely no longer requiring your services.

Even as you let your mind wander, blocking out the droning speeches and rich people backstories, you remained on high alert. If anything bad was going to happen, you had a feeling it would be at an event like this one. An event where everyone had their guard down because it was for a universally agreeable good cause. But for some reason, heading into it tonight, something was churning in your gut.

After not being able to ignore the way your stomach twisted and turned, you had gone to speak to your father about tonight, requesting backup in addition to your other two friends, Natasha and Daisy, who often accompanied you to guard shifts associated with larger crowds.

Usually he was on the same page as you, but lately, your requests had been met with more protest, likely due to your little brother’s input buzzing in your father’s ear.

Your brother, Dylan, had just freshly turned eighteen, and with it came more responsibility in the agency. For being so much younger than you, your father was giving him mountains of control, including this event of your two most important clients. With your request of a team came the the caveat that your brother would be leading it.

Dylan was, to put it nicely, an oaf? Incapable of performing a task without crashing and burning, which made your blood boil. Probably from the fires he created and you subsequently had to put out. You had no room to complain, though, as your father dismissed you from his office.

So Dylan ‘led’ your team this evening, packed with his twerp friends who were more capable, but just as reckless as him. They’d listen to some of your orders, but not without the confirmation of your brother, who knew better enough sometimes to listen to your input.

You let him think he was in the lead tonight, executing a plan you had essentially spoon fed to him in your meetings leading up to the event. There were several backup plans and exit strategies that had their own code names, made by you, of course. All Dylan, or ‘The Chief,’ as he liked to go as over coms, had to do was keep an eye out on the cameras for any suspicious activity around the venue, and be prepared to drive away if he called for extraction due to suspicious activity. That was it. You and your two trusty companions would take control of everything inside the banquet, while two of Dylan’s friends surveilled the outside. Should be easy, right?

Dylan had been instructed to give an update through your earpiece every three minutes, on any action seen in the camera footage. Every time he did, though, it was accompanied by music blasting in the car, and the increments kept getting further and further apart. Almost like he was forgetting about his responsibilities and the importance of this event on your shoulders, should something go wrong. You rolled your eyes and kept a watch of the room. If you had such little backup, it was on you now to do this job, without the team you had specifically requested.

Dylan’s friends seemed to go quiet, too, which you were hoping wasn’t due to capture or something worse, but when you heard conversation about a fantasy football draft in your ear, you knew they were at least alive, although not helpful at all.

You were sick of running blind, though, so you casually made it look like your were scratching your ear and turned away from the crowd.

“Chief, status report.” Nothing. You waited thirty seconds. Silence.

You turned back to the room, the gnawing feeling in your stomach growing as you looked out at the crowd. Natasha, code name Widow, was making her way around with a tray of champagne flutes. Daisy, codename Blossom, sat in a vent somewhere, watching from above and monitoring everyone’s trackers. The three of you sighed and continued on, hoping this night wouldn’t be every eventful, but that’s never how life goes, is it?

“Blossom, report on coms. Is everything working?”

You waited a second for the response.

“All is good, Redwing. It’s a human, not technology error.”

You rolled your eyes for the thousandth time that night, but were pulled out of your annoyance by a searing sound. In the next moment, just as you were about to ask for any other possible news from Daisy, a crackling took over your ear.

You fought the urge to wince and draw attention to yourself. It was probably Dylan finally getting back to you, but the voice that came through was one you’d never heard before. It was low and urgent.

“Get them out of there.”

You couldn’t help the way your eyes went wide and you whisper yelled, turning into the fake plant you found yourself nearby.

“Who is this? This is a secure line! What’s going on?”

You were surprised by the warning firmness of the speaker, it was menacing, who did this person think they were? Was that a threat?

“This is Bootleg. Your clients are in danger. What’s about to happen isn’t meant for them. Find a way to get them to leave.”

You sighed and nodded, although the disembodied voice named ‘Bootleg’ wasn’t reassuring. You knew to never turn down a tip, though. You weren’t going to risk it with clients like this. So you let out a sigh and made eye contact with Nat across the room.

“Execute plan beta sixteen alpha.”

She gave you a curt nod and increased her pace in a way only someone with your type of training could pick up. She was circling to make her movements seem undetectable, but she was ultimately going towards the First Lady and her son. Nat tripped, spilling the tray of champagne on their laps, causing them to gasp and look down. You could tell they were ready to yell, but they looked to your face and you nodded, signaling them to get up, brushing away anyone with apologies or offers for help, saying they were just going to clean up. The rest of the rich party goers didn’t pay it a second thought besides whispers of clumsy waitstaff. It’s not like they would bother to remember the face of one of them, though, and were too busy watching a fumbling Nat to see your approach to take your clients out of the venue. You did your best to move slowly to the same exit as them, and as soon as your bodies were behind the closed ballroom door, you were rushing them towards the back service door to get in Dylan’s getaway vehicle.

You ducked their heads under your arms as you rushed them out, and shoved them into the back of the town car, only giving a quick, breathless word to your clients and your brother.

“Take them home, Dyl. Fast. Don’t let yourself get tracked. I’ll take the decoy car. Go, now!”

He nodded like a bobble head, shifting the car in gear and peeling out of the lot as you jogged over to the other vehicle where Daisy and Nat were already waiting in the front seat for you. They moved fast.

You hopped in, Daisy expertly backing out until she hit the street. Just as she put it in drive, you flinched at a sudden noise and looked out the back window to where an explosion happened in front of the venue and soldiers dressed in all black rushed in through the cloud of smoke. This would definitely hit the news tomorrow, but you were sure your father would commend you for the safe delivery of two of his most important packages.

Daisy and Nat had been by your side for as long a you could remember. When you were in elementary school, you remembered a brooding girl sitting at the end of the lunch table, arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed, with the angriest pout you’d ever seen. You walked over and plopped down with your tray.

“Hi.”

She looked up from her meal and to your smile and simply gave a blink of acknowledgment, face unchanging.

“Are you okay? Something wrong with your lunch?”

She shook her head and took a deep breath, sitting up to eat a tater tot.

“No. Something’s wrong with my shirt.”

You tilted your head to the side. “What about it? I think it’s beautiful. I love Daisies.”

She shrugged and continued to pick through her food. “Yeah, I guess they’re alright. But my mom forced me to wear this. I had a plain black shirt picked out and she gave me this. I don’t wanna wear daisies.”

You giggled and looked down at the plain black shirt on your body. “Trade?”

For the first time, you watched the corner of her lip reach a smile, your new friend who would soon earn the shirt flower as a nickname. That little grin was huge compared to the tight line her lip previously held. That was the start of a bunch of mini smirks and teamwork.

Nat had been around since you were in diapers. Her parents had worked for your father’s organization their entire lives, so when they passed as she was in her teens, your family took her in.

She was always incredibly smart, her wit challenging you and Daisy, but the two of you would hit her right back. The timeline of her moving in with you, too, was a few years before the presidential gig started, but she rose through the ranks with you, through every single job, the two of you bringing Daisy on board who caught on quickly. Your grouping was nearly unrivaled. Nearly.

Daisy and Nat physically stood by your sides as the three of you looked on to your father talking on a podium. Your best suits were pressed and tailored perfectly for the special occasion. It was his retirement party in your family’s backyard garden where he was noting the successes of the company under him, including the recent incident from which the two important clients had been saved.

The three of you lightly nudged each other’s arms in commendation for the quick act despite your lack of backup, a small smile on your face, a smirk on Nat’s, with Daisy looking as composed and stoic as ever. You father continued in his speech, noting the valiant effort that needs to be maintained in a generational business like this, one that should be rewarded and carried on for the generations to come. You stood straight, chin up with pride at your hard work and dedication finally paying off.

“I was a young pup, only in my early twenties when I took this business over from my father. He deemed me most fit for the job, so it is my pleasure to do the same, keeping this line of work led by my family. I’d like to name my replacement, someone who valiantly saved the president’s son and wife. Someone who the son has raved about for returning them home to the White House safely. My wonderful child…”

You were ready for the culmination of years being under his wing. He gestured his arm out to the side and you braced yourself for the good news, except the arm wasn’t outstretched towards you. It was directed towards the other side of the stage and everyone’s eyes followed. “Dylan.”

Dylan was jerkily shoved forward by one of his friends, having been zoned out for the entirety of your father’s speech, but at the sound of cheering and clapping, a smile grew on his face. He waved at the crowd, walking over to the podium to shake your father’s hand and give a word of his own.

Meanwhile, your face fell. It was dragged downward in defeat. You quickly pulled yourself together, though, at a squeeze to your arm. You couldn’t even tell which side it came from. Your body was going numb. Shifting to plant your feet and fighting the burn in your eyes, you looked straight forward, no longer at the podium, although you had no way to shut off your ears.

“Wow, wow. Thank you. This is such an honor. At eighteen years old, I will be the youngest to ever run this organization.”

It seemed like he’s was at least doing well and presenting a strong face. That was rare.

“Haha, I beat ya, gramps! Okay, let’s party!”

You outwardly cringed, but your legs were paralyzed as his friends let out a whooping cheer and the party erupted in confetti. It was getting caught in your hair as Nat and Daisy dragged you away and inside, up the stairs to your childhood bedroom, jostling you like a rag doll. You felt almost catatonic.

As soon as you flopped down on your bed, though, you turned over and screamed into your pillow before sitting up, realizing this act of melodrama was going to wrinkle your suit.

You sat up and sniffled, rubbing your eyes and taking a deep breath to give yourself just a moment to think. You looked between your best friends and started pointing.

“Daise, can you pack up anything you think I might need from here? Whatever I can’t live without.”

You then looked to the redhead who was peeking out the window, watching your father enter the outdoor entrance of his home office.

“Nat, can you gather some home essentials? Food, first aid, some of the hidden and spare weapons. Only the ones they won’t sense are missing, okay?”

She nodded. “Yeah. We better do it quick. Your pops just came in.”

You bit your lip and your nostrils flared in anger and thought, rubbing your hands over your face. “Okay. That’s fine, I need to talk to him anyway. That should give you enough time to grab everything. Then we’re heading back to the apartment to get some essentials.”

The three of you were roommates in the city, renting out a place Daisy’s distant uncle owned, which allowed you some freedoms, as well as independence from the possible tracing of your location on government records. Even under a security conglomerate, you could sense things were going downhill, so it was a good choice to move out and detach yourself. At this point, you were barely traceable. Only one thing tethered you here on a paper trail: the company.

You stormed out of your room and down the stairs to the hall that held your father’s office. You were furious. You had no patience left for formality or kindness, this was all rage. You kicked in the strong oak door, splintering the wooden frame, and were met with the view of your father and brother clinking whiskey glasses, an old celebratory reserve poured in them.

You stomped over to the filing cabinets where your file, thick as a novel, was stored. Next to it, you pulled out two more, no less impressive. Your dad, even though he possessed several methods for tech security, still kept employee information on paper in case he accidentally hired a mole. Everything was under lock and key and 24 hour surveillance.

You dug around in the left side drawer of his desk until you found the cigar lighter, hitting the edge of the folders until they caught and throwing them into his metal trash can. It was only then that he and your brother let words come out of their dropped jaws and awestruck faces.

“Tweety Bird, what’s the issue, kiddo? Didn’t wanna celebrate with your old man and little brother?”

You scoffed as you put your hands on your hips.

“Celebrate!? Celebrate what!? Being snubbed? Overlooked for something I’ve dedicated my life towards!?”

Your father’s bushy brows furrowed in confusion, your brother’s face mirroring it in a mini version. “What do you mean? You haven’t been snubbed. Dylan and I agree you’re meant to run teams and operations. You wouldn’t want to be in charge. Plus, it’s tradition that the first son takes over.”

You threw your hands up in exasperation. Smoke was filling the room, but partially getting swept out the cracked windows that pointed toward the back yard. “You didn’t think to ask me, the one keeping your business afloat, to run it!? No one knows it better than me, but it’s so ridiculous. Just because I’m an older sister like Aunt Kay, doesn’t mean I don’t wanna be in charge! She wanted to leave this life, but I don’t!”

You heard a chuckle rise behind you. “What, Dylan?”

He shrugged with a smug smile on his face. “Aunt Kay didn’t want to leave this life. She wanted the company, too. But Gramps gave it to dad. That’s why she fucked off to who knows where and started that bank vault company.”

You gasped in shock and looked to your father but he seemed unaffected. You turned to him now, disgusted with the sight of your little brother. “What!? Do you hear yourself right now!? Just because we aren’t men!? That’s insane!! I’m the one who saved the president’s family. Not Dylan, me! He was too busy sitting on his ass and picking his nose to be of any help. Maybe we would’ve seen the team coming to attack the venue sooner if he would’ve done his job!”

Your chest was heaving and your face was warm from the yelling. Your father still calmly continued. “Dylan returned the family safe and sound. You were nowhere to be seen. He deserves this step of responsibility, but I have no doubt you can guide him like an invisible hand.”

You shook your head, moving back towards the door between the leather couches of the sitting area, pacing on the Persian rug. “No, no. Absolutely not. I refuse to keep performing thankless service. You’ve made a mistake. I no longer want to work for you and I no longer want to be a part of this family. This whole thing is fucked. I’m out.”

Your father sighed, about to speak up. “Bird, we-“

He was cut off by the arm of your brother, though. “No, dad. If she wants to leave, I think she should. I don’t want anyone here questioning my leadership. The president’s son will back me on that. He’s upset the extraction ruined a designer suit and thinks that I’m the best fit, too. I can run this without her.”

Your dad gave a hmph of affirmation, which sent you over the edge. After all those years of service, both your father and the president’s son still didn’t credit your work. You couldn’t stand this anymore, especially not when Dylan was fabricating lies in his own head about the greatness you performed.

“You know what, Dyl? Yeah, let’s have it your way. You guys will never need to see me again. Good luck not running this thing into the ground.”

You turned on your heel and marched out the door. When you turned the corner, you saw both Nat and Daisy waiting for you, double fisting duffel bags. You motioned for both of them to head to Nat’s car, walking quickly, but they were more than capable of keeping up. You heard Daisy speak from over your left shoulder.

“Bird, where are we going?”

As you barged through the glass front door and put on your sunglasses, you took a breath in of the air that marked your new life, outside the stuffy patriarchy of what you thought would be your legacy.

“Somewhere far. And don’t ever call me that again.”

Next >

Bonus A/N: Bruh, could you imagine being betrayed by your own father like that? Also, we’ll be seeing more of Daisy as the reader for Jake’s storyline in the future.

Taglist: @hawkeyes-queen @ronearoundblindly

[your-unfriendlyghost]

2 questions about the top gun AU thing cause I wanna eat it

Do you think there’s anything specific that would bring Steve and Maverick closer or do you think it kind of just happens? Or does it not happen at all

Does Steve ever tell Maverick about his dad? If he does how does that get received?

Good questions man, thanks so much for asking!!

1- I think it happens slowly over time- there’s a lot that causes it to happen though. Little things that pile up, on both ends. Like Maverick noticing little things that remind him of himself as a 17 year old, Soda talking to Mav and reporting to Steve that Mav’s actually pretty cool, Goose hanging back with Steve during aviator nights out and telling him a bit about Mav’s backstory-

“His dad disappeared when he was a kid, and his momma- your ma- ran out on him real soon after- he never had a real good parent…But he’s trying his best. He’s not used to being an authority- hell, he’s pretty used to rebelling against it. He’s figuring it out, and he’s gonna mess up…but he’s trying his best, just so you know.” (I’d word it better if this were like. Serious writing but this is more like an outline I guess lol)

And then Steve just sorta processes that. He knew Mav had more to him than he showed Steve, but now that Steve actually has context for why Mav is the way he is, Steve can’t quite make himself hate the guy anymore. He doesn’t like him either because of this, but he starts to maybe see Mav as a person rather than just a roadblock in the way of his goal of getting back to Tulsa.

Also, I think weirdly a fight between Mav and Steve should be the final catalyst for them getting along better. Like Steve goes out and does something stupid and dangerous, like a drag race or getting drunk or something, and Mav comes to bail him out- but Mav also gets mad at him. Very mad at him.

So Steve gets angry too, and says something along the lines of “You’re not my dad or even my real brother, so quit acting like you are!”

And then Mav remembers having said some very similar words to Goose back when they first became friends, and suddenly sees Steve’s perspective better than he has since meeting him. And he says as much- something like “Oh…that’s…Jesus, kid, I said the same thing when I was just about your age…”

From there, Mav can actually see how Steve is a lot like himself, and Steve can too. They still butt heads over things, but with more of a mutual understanding and more actual care for each other.

Plus they’re both into a lotta the same things so once Steve stops being stubborn they bond over that (yk, being adrenaline junkies, liking cars/planes/motorcycles, even having similar insecurities )

2- Steve probably does? Maybe?

When they first meet and Steve’s being rebellious and annoying, I could see him mentioning being kicked out of the house a lot as like. A brag. Like “look I’m real tough, I grew up on the streets”

But later on, once they’re closer, I could kinda see him delving more into his real feelings about it? Idk, Steve seems pretty emotionally…aware, I guess, so I think he knows to an extent that some (not much mind you but some) of his bravado is a front. And under the right circumstances I could see him talking about it with people-I mean in the book, even Ponyboy, a kid Steve doesn't really like, knows about Steve's feelings towards his dad.

Idk if he'd talk about it with Mav though unless Mav told him something vulnerable first. And I don't think Mav would tell him many real vulnerable things, at least not unprompted.

I dunno, speaking from my own perspective as a guy, the only times I really talk about vulnerable subjects are with my best (and I mean BEST) buddy…or girls/women, like my sister, grandmother, and ma. Not much to other guys, especially not to other guys who I compete with the way Steve does with Mav. It can kinda feel like acknowledging you have vulnerable feelings makes you weak. I mean it doesn't obviously, but that's kinda how it feels, I guess? So I honestly dunno if Steve would ever tell Mav about his dad.

That said, I think Steve would tell Goose and/or Carole about his dad lol

[brightside-of-the-upsidedown]

-army crawls through the doggie door-

Okay, but hear me out

DILF Steve, father of The Chosen One, and having to navigate everything without becoming a tragic backstory.

Gets so confused by his kid dating a vampire ("HOW OLD ARE YOU?"), a werewolf ("WEAR PROTECTION" "DAD!"), and now a fae ("....BUT DON'T EVEN GET THEIR NAME?")

Then the shoe is on the other foot because Steve somehow became an ambassador and his kid's significant others have very attractive parents/guardians/kings of their own >:D

[liliesmultiverse]

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ nepo baby OR intro!!

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ reality info!!

it's currently december 20, 2024

a woman named Carmen Leala Ramos won the 2024 U.S. presidential election. she is puerto rican, a lesbian and married to a transgender woman.

world peace. all countries are at peace with each other and no wars will ever break out between them.

equality. all genders are seen as equal by everyone and all have the same oppurtunities as each other. all religions are respected as are all races & sexualities.

the world. the world is as healthy as it possibly can be and everyone works together to take extremely good care of it. climate change & global warming aren't a thing and there isn't any kind of pollution (esp. light pollution). all animals are completely safe and none are being hunted or going extinct by human cause. natural disasters happen way less and all countries always have medical & other resources available. no country is suffering from poverty, overpopulation or hunger. taxes and inflation don't exist and the economy is in a wonderful state all over the world.

there is absolutely NO beauty standard because everyone is beautiful in their own way and shouldn't change themselves to 'fit in'

criminals of any kind are extremely rare to the point that most jails are actually empty.

healthcare is affordable for everyone and there's a day dedicated each month to giving homeless people free health check-ups. abortion is legal everywhere.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ about me!!

name: liliana amore evans

nickname(s): lily, lils, lil, anne, annie

age: 20

date of birth: september 10, 2004

birthplace: new orleans, louisiana

ethnicity: italian, french & irish

height: 5'4"

occupation: actress, twitch streamer & youtuber

sexuality: bisexual

pronouns: she/her

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ my backstory!!

i was born on september 10, 2004 in new orleans, louisiana to christopher robert evans & my CR mom. i am the younger sister of my two CR siblings and the older sister of walker lee evans. i am the goddaughter of zachary alexander bagans & scarlett ingrid johansson. i've loved acting ever since i was little thanks to my dad & godmother and landed my first role when i was 7 years old. i began streaming on twitch & posting on youtube when i was 14 in my free time.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ my filmography & roles!!

tv shows:

shameless ; maisie 'maze' gallagher, carl's twin sister (2011-2021)

grimm (1 ep.) ; april granger (2012)

stranger things ; isabella charlotte 'bella' harrington, steve's little sister (2016-?)

the originals (s5) ; hope andréa mikaelson (2018)

legacies ; hope andréa mikaelson (2018-2022)

a million little things ; sophie dixon (2018-2023)

pretty little liars ; imogen adams (2022-?)

bridgerton ; hyacinth bridgerton (2023-?)

movies:

a walk among the tombstones ; lucia (2014)

aloha ; grace woodside (2015)

wonder ; miranda navas (2017)

the greatest showman ; caroline barnum (2017)

godzilla: king of the monsters ; madison russell (2019)

godzilla vs. kong ; madison russell (2021)

all too well: the short film ; her (2021)

scream ; freya tatum riley, daughter of dewey riley & gale weathers (2022)

scream vi ; freya tatum riley (2023)

teen wolf: the movie ; evangeline 'eva' hale, derek's daughter & eli's twin (2023)

damsel ; princess elodie (2024)

nosferatu ; ellen hutter (2024)

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ my dad!!

name: christopher robert evans

nickname(s): dad, chris

age: 45

date of birth: june 13, 1979

birthplace: boston, massachusetts

ethnicity: irish-italian

height: 6'0"

occupation: actor

sexuality: straight

pronouns: he/him

spouse: my CR mom :)

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ my younger brother!!

name: walker lee evans

age: 15

date of birth: january 5, 2009

birthplace: new orleans, louisiana

ethnicity: italian, french & irish

height: 5'9"

occupation: actor

sexuality: tbd

pronouns: he/him

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ my future husband!!

name: aaron perry johnson

age: 34

date of birth: june 13, 1990

birthplace: liverpool, england

ethnicity: english-mexican

height: 6'4"

occupation: actor

sexuality: pansexual

pronouns: he/him

our trope: friends to lovers

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ my best friends!!

[steddieas-shegoes]

Request: Steve has a few younger siblings. He is very protective over them (2 brothers & 1 baby sister) his family is very close. But the party meeting his siblings in the hospital post spring break from hell, Steve's little sister screams tearfully until she is put beside her older brother who is in hospital due to severe injuries. His younger brothers (8yrs old & 5 yrs old) demand for their big brother to be left alone by these strangers. The party demanded to know why he kept his siblings from them???? Also Steve just being loved on by his parents & his siblings and of the party.

DARLING IDK HOW YOU COME UP WITH THIS STUFF BUT THANK GOD YA DO!!! Steve having siblings and good parents and STILL choosing to be the best damn babysitter is kind of giving me LIFE. I am forever here for giving Steve all the love he deserves. A little backstory for this in my brain: Steve's parents got married right out of high school at their own parents' insistence, and they loved each other, but wanted to go to college first. Anne got pregnant during their honeymoon and had to put college on hold. The reason there's such a big age gap between Steve and his siblings is because she finished college, started working as a lawyer, and then went into business with Richard. Once they were comfortable in that for a couple years, they decided to have more kids. We love responsible decisions!!! - Mickala ❤️

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Steve spent 12 hours unconscious, which would be more alarming if he hadn’t had worse before. At least this time he was in a hospital for it.

Or maybe that was worse.

His mom was by his side the moment he woke up, along with a pacing Dustin and half-asleep Robin.

“Mom? Where’s Dad?”

“Oh, honey!” Anne Harrington was a strong woman, a lawyer who didn’t take shit from anyone, only cried when Steve won his basketball championship and graduated high school. But here she was, sobbing against his hand tightly grasped in her own. “He’s with your brothers and sister. I didn’t want them to see you like this, honey. You almost died!”

Maybe that was true. He certainly felt like he almost died.

He felt Robin and Dustin staring at them, realized what his mom had said.

“Brothers?” Dustin asked, barely more than a whisper, from the foot of the hospital bed.

“Sister?” Robin asked, a yawn breaking out before she even finished asking.

There was a commotion outside the door, he could hear his father’s voice trying to stay calm as he spoke, but knew he was frustrated.

Then he heard a loud cry and his heart broke.

“Was that Bethany?” Steve croaked, his eyes watering at the wails his three year old sister was letting out.

Anne looked at the mostly closed door, nodding as she turned back to Steve in the bed.

“They’ve been begging to see you since this morning. They wouldn’t stop begging to come, so your dad compromised and said they could sit in the waiting room until you woke up, but they’ve been sitting there for two hours. You know how they get.”

He did. He knew that any compromise they’d agreed to was going to work to their benefit in the end because they were all much too clever for their ages.

Suddenly, the door shot open and his eight year old brother, James, stood there with wide eyes. His five year old brother, Ryan, stood behind him, bouncing on his feet so he could try to see.

His father appeared behind them, holding Bethany in his arms, and looking like he wished he could be anywhere else.

But that look disappeared when he saw that Steve was awake.

“I’m so glad you’re okay, son,” he said, a choked noise making its way from his throat like he would have sobbed if the kids weren’t there.

He could feel the confusion coming from Robin and Dustin, but now wasn’t the time to explain any of it.

“Hey kiddos. You guys okay?” Steve rasped out, giving a small smile to all his siblings.

James and Ryan ran to his bed, climbing onto it carefully when Anne snapped her fingers at them and told them to go slow so they didn’t hurt their brother.

“Down, daddy! Wanna see Steve!” Bethany was kicking her legs and trying to push away from Richard, who sighed and let her down.

She ran to the bed, ignored the warning to go slow, and piled into Steve’s lap.

It hurt, but she was so small, and Steve could deal with some discomfort if it meant she could see he was okay.

“Steve, you have boo-boos!”

He patted her always messy hair, and gave her the best smile he could muster.

“Just a few. I’m gonna get all better soon, though. The doctors just had to put some bandaids on them.”

“Are they Barbie bandaids?”

“Of course they aren’t, Bethany. They’re big and have to be wrapped,” James said.

Steve gripped James’ hand in his.

James was going through a phase of wanting to seem older than he was, which was normal, but he took a lot of it out on Bethany. Bethany could certainly hold her own, and often did, but they were all emotional and under a lot of stress at this moment, so Steve stepped in.

“Buddy, let’s just take it easy today, okay? It’s okay to be scared, but so is Bethany and she’s little, so we have to be patient. Like we talked about, remember?”

“What is happening right now?” Dustin asked, still standing awkwardly at the end of his bed.

“Um. Dustin, Robin, this is Bethany, James is to my left, and Ryan is to my right. These are my brothers and sister.”

“You have siblings.”

It wasn’t a question, but Steve could hear the disbelief in Dustin’s tone.

“I do.”

“You never mentioned them?” Robin asked as she looked at where Richard and Anne were now whispering in the corner of the room.

“It just never really came up?”

“Uh. Okay.”

“Who are these people?” Ryan asked as he turned his face into Steve’s arm, always more shy than his other siblings.

“That’s my best friend, Robin, and Dustin. I used to babysit him and now he’s like another brother.”

“But we’re your brothers,” James said, crossing his arms against his chest.

“Of course. But there’s plenty of room to have Dustin around, too. He’s awesome. He can teach you D&D!”

Bethany was curling up against his chest, at least being more careful now that she’d seen his injuries up close. Ryan was shuffling closer to his side, burying his head under his arm like he did on their family movie nights when he was getting tired but didn’t want anyone to know. James was still tense, jealous.

“Did he teach you D&D?”

“Nah. I told you it’s too complicated for me.”

“Did I hear someone say D&D?” Eddie peeked his head through the door, grin lighting up the room.

“Eddie!” Dustin exclaimed.

“Looks like Steve’s got a whole party in here! Are we playing or what?”

Eddie walked into the room completely, smiling until he realized that Steve’s parents were here.

They got together during chaos; they didn’t have time to talk about logistics, about what Steve’s parents knew about him, if they would even be okay with him.

He’d briefly mentioned his siblings to Eddie when they were getting weapons ready, but didn’t talk much about anything else.

“Eds, these are my parents, Richard and Anne,” Steve introduced them, winking at his mom when she gave him a questioning look.

He’d been out to his parents for months, accidentally letting slip that he’d gone on a date with a guy on their Christmas vacation. They took it well overall, the shock making it seem like they were upset, but they were just confused about why he’d only ever brought home girls.

“Mom, Dad, this is my boyfriend, Eddie.”

Eddie’s eyes practically bulged out of his head when he realized what Steve was doing.

“Ew, a boyfriend?” James, already back to his previous attitude, curled his lip up in disgust.

He looked so like Steve sometimes, it was alarming. If they were out running errands together, people often assumed he was his son.

“James! Watch your tone!” Anne said as she reached out a hand to shake Eddie’s. “It’s lovely to meet you, Eddie. I assume you’re the one who helped carry Steve to safety?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“So polite. Who would’ve thought Steve found someone so nice?” Richard said with a smirk and a wink at Steve.

“Are you in love?” Bethany asked as she watched Eddie from her spot against Steve’s chest.

Steve could feel his face heat up, watched as Eddie’s face went red and he looked down at the floor.

“We care about each other a lot, B,” Steve replied, hoping she would drop it.

“But he saved you! Like a princess!”

Eddie let out a small laugh as he got closer to the bed and sat down on the edge.

“Well, you look like a princess, too. What’s your name?” He asked, glancing up at Steve for a moment to make sure it was okay he sat there. Steve nodded once.

“Beffany.”

“Princess Bethany? Of Loch Nora?”

Bethany looked at Anne to confirm, nodding as soon as her mom gave her a thumbs up.

Eddie stood back up, bowed, and then sat down again.

“It’s an honor to be in your presence, your highness.”

“Are you a knight?” she asked as she scooted away from Steve’s chest and off his lap, climbing her way into Eddie’s.

Ryan was even pulling away slightly to watch what was going on.

“I wish! I haven’t been through all of my training yet. Maybe you could help me?”

“What kinda trainin’?” Bethany started playing with his hair, but Eddie didn’t stop her, wanted her to feel comfortable while Steve recovered.

“I need to learn my royal etiquette. Do you think you can show me?”

“Yes! We have lessons!”

“Great!” Eddie beamed at her. “Maybe you can give me lessons when your brother goes home?”

“Mommy! Can Eddie come play?”

“Of course. But not today. Steve has to keep resting here for a couple days and I think Eddie probably wants to be here for him.”

“Okay. I stay too?”

“No, baby. We have to let Steve rest some more. We can come back to visit tomorrow.”

Steve felt Ryan and James cling to his arms when they realized that meant they were all leaving.

“But Robin and Dustin are staying!” James was jealous. He loved spending time with Steve, thrived on being considered “mature” enough to run errands with him when their parents were busy, helping him with chores because he was the only one big enough.

Dustin was a threat to his time with Steve, even at eight he could tell.

“Actually, I passed Dustin’s mom on the way here and she was coming to get him soon to go home. He hurt his ankle and shouldn’t even be walking around right now,” Eddie said, eyes squinting in Dustin’s direction like they’d already discussed this once.

“And I have to get home to my parents so they don’t worry. Maybe you can walk me to the bus stop and keep me safe?” Robin asked, somewhat awkwardly.

She didn’t know how to talk to kids, but it was a valiant attempt.

And it seemed to work.

James perked up at the thought of helping in a big kid way.

“Oh, darling, we can drop you off at your house on our way home,” Anne said. “I’ll take you and James can walk with us so we aren’t alone. Right, James?”

James nodded vigorously.

“I’ll protect you. And then we can come back tomorrow to see if Steve’s better.”

Steve leaned down and kissed the top of Ryan’s head, smiling when he realized he fell asleep at some point during the conversation.

“He barely slept last night. I’ll carry him. Hopefully now that he’s seen you’re alive and okay he can rest,” Richard said with a sad smile.

“If you bring them all tomorrow morning, I can help them make character sheets for D&D,” Eddie suggested.

“Yes! Please, dad! Can we?” James bounced in the bed, jostling everyone a bit.

Steve hissed in pain, but tried to cover it with a smile when James looked at him with an apologetic look.

“Sure. If you promise to sleep tonight and eat breakfast in the morning, we can come back.”

“I promise!” James poked Ryan. “Ryan! Promise you’ll sleep tonight and have breakfast in the morning so we can come play D&D!”

Ryan blinked a few times, nodded, then snuggled back into Steve’s side.

As Richard and Anne worked on gathering the kids and Robin and Dustin walked out with them, Steve relaxed in the hospital bed, finally feeling most of his injuries.

He knew they would give him more pain meds if he asked, but he wanted a few minutes with Eddie first.

“Hey.”

“Hey, sweetheart,” Eddie said as he took his hand in his own, gently squeezing as he made himself comfortable on the side of the bed.

“Thanks for being so cool with them,” Steve let his eyes close for a moment as he took in every wound on his body.

He knew this was a close one, could tell by the way Eddie was looking at him a moment ago.

“You never told anyone else about them?”

Steve shook his head.

“Didn’t really need to. I figured they’d all meet eventually. Just never came up before.”

“Want me to get the nurse?” Eddie could tell he didn’t want to talk about it right now, so he changed the subject quickly.

“In a minute. Wanna kiss you.”

“Oh yeah? Come kiss me then.”

Steve opened one eye and started pouting.

“You come kiss me,” Steve said.

“Fine. But only because you’re hurting.”

Eddie leaned down to press his lips against Steve’s softly, a comfort as much as a promise for more when he was better.

“You’ll stay?”

“Yeah, sweetheart. Just gonna get the nurse and grab a snack from the machine down the hall and then I’m all yours for the night.”

“Can’t wait to feel better.”

“I know. Maybe next time you won’t try to be a hero, hm?”

“No, I don’t care about the pain or anything.”

“Then…”

“I want you to fuck me.”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie choked. “Are you always like this or are there still some drugs in your system?”

“Dunno. Never felt like this with anyone else.”

“Stevie…”

“You’re good with them. Especially Bethany. She’s a lot. But you did good. Good for my nuggets.”

Steve was slowly losing consciousness and Eddie couldn’t help the fond smile creeping up on his face.

“They seem like good gremlins. They sure love you a lot,” Eddie whispered.

“Mhm. Love you.”

“Oh. I don’t think they know me well enough to love me yet, sweetheart, but that’s nice of you to say,” Eddie scrambled to get out, his heart flipping over in his chest at the thought that that wasn’t what Steve meant.

“No.” Steve opened his eyes, staring right at Eddie. “I do. I love you.”

It was crazy. Probably a product of his injuries, exhaustion, and drug cocktail in his system. He probably thought he loved him, but they’d only just gotten together officially.

“Eds. It’s okay. I’m just lettin’ you know how I feel. You don’t have to say it back.”

“I just. I. I think I love you too. I just don’t see how you love me.”

“‘S easy.”

Just that easy.

Like Steve would have said it whether he was in the hospital or not.

—------------

The next morning, James, Ryan, and Bethany planted themselves on Steve’s bed while Eddie explained character sheets to them.

Steve watched with a smile as all of his siblings watched Eddie in awe.

His family meant the world to him, and Eddie did too. He wanted things to always be like this.

When Eddie smiled at him over James’ shoulder a while later, he thought that maybe they would be.

[delightful-chaos-collection]

You know what would have been more interesting to see in Wizards?

● Merlin regrets how he supported Arthur and ignored all the terrible things that he did and now realizes how much damage Arthur did to the magical world and how so many died at his hands

● Merlin's final breaking point and rejecting Arthur is finding out from Doxuie that after Merlin went to sleep for nine hundred years shortly after Arthur and the other knights tried to kill his son and Douxie just barely escaped coming full circle of Morgana saying "how long until he comes for us"

● Morgana kinda being an anti hero or like very very dark grey. evil but still some redeemable qualities but no redemption arc because she holds no regrets about her actions cause she is a badb****. Also because she most likely killed ALOT of people.

● Merlin calling Douxie son more often

● Douxie calling Merlin dad

● Jim imparting the training he has gotten onto Deya and getting a mentor relationship with Deya

● Deyas Backstory and her trauma at the hands of the knights

● The knights hurting and abusing Jim cause he's a troll

● Steve actually being useful (i really like him but dam he can get annoying at times)

● Us getting to know Merlin more as in Trollhunters we only saw a very hard and tired version I wanted to see the version that Douxie sees. The eccentric and kind version. The one he knows is there and while he is still very strict and hard he loves Douxie as his son.

● Morgana actually being evil. Yes, she did not want Arthur and the other knights to kill all magical creatures and tried to protect them but that came under her overall plan of being in control of everything and her big bad guy plan.

● Morgana having an unrequited love for Gwen

● Galahan after so many years filled with guilt and regret and how in his solitude of guarding the castle realises how much of a monster he became while following Arthur.

● Bellroc, Skreal, and Nari being actual siblings. and while Bellroc loves Nari they hate and despise humanity after so many years

● Morgana actually survives and teaming up with the guardians mainly Claire to stop the arcane order and keep Nari safe. It is VERY an uncomfortable relationship with everyone (cause u know) but enemy of my enemy and all that

[mrprettywhenhecries]

✦ Name ✦ Winrey "Win" Jane Lewis

✦ Face claim ✦ Kailee Morgue

✦ Age ✦ 18 (in 1984)

✦ Birthdate ✦ 10/01/1967

✦ Zodiac Sign ✦ Libra

✦ Orientation ✦ Bisexual & Polyamourous

✦ Love interest(s) ✦ Billy Hargrove & Steve Harrington

[Read her story: I Don't Think You Notice • tumblr | ao3 ] Note: I'm going to be rewriting/changing parts of this fic soon, since just as I had started writing the third part the Steve thirst hit hard and I decided I wanted to change it from just a Billy/oc fic to Billy/oc/Steve fic. Look for the updated first chapter soon!

✦ Friends ✦ Tina, Carol, Vicky (ex friends), Heather Halloway, Max Mayfield, Robin Buckley, Dustin Henderson, Eddie Munson

✦ Occupation ✦ high school senior, works part time at Sam Goody when Starcourt opens, after the mall closes she gets a receptionist job at the mechanic shop Billy also works at.

✦ Physical Appearance ✦ 5’1", 110lbs, petite, grey eyes, bleached blonde hair in a short bob with bangs and darker roots, pierced lip (right side), small stick & poke tattooed star on left temple

✦ Likes ✦ horror films, sleeping in, mint chocolate chip ice cream & chocolate cake, muscle cars (especially her dad's 69' Chevelle COPO 427), swimming, loud music, collecting chintz, stargazing, big time wrestling/wwf

✦ Dislikes ✦ bugs, fake friends, small towns, being lied to, being underestimated, algebra, spiders/bugs, spicy food, pineapple on pizza, the anniversary of her mom's death

✦ Vices ✦ smoking, weed, whiskey, driving too fast, public/semi-public sex, partying, not wearing pants when home alone

✦ Personality ✦ loyal, determined, street smart, witty, flirtatious, stealthy, moody, aloof, quick to shut people out, stubborn, holds grudges, jealous

✦ Favorite Bands ✦ Blondie, Billy Idol, Pat Benatar, Heart, KISS, Tom Waits, Van Halen, Judas Priest, Fleetwood Mac, Black Sabbath, Bon Jovi

✦ Favorite Movie(s) ✦ Mad Max, Blade Runner, The Lost Boys, Halloween, Better Off Dead

✦ Backstory ✦ Originally from Chicago, Win lost her mother, Ellery, as a teenager, leaving her lost and embittered. Not long after her mother’s passing, unable to process his own grief, her father, David, threw himself into his work, spending long hours away from home and leaving Win unsupervised most of the time. In an attempt to ignore her predicament and fill the void inside her, Win similarly found things to distract herself, mostly vandalism and sex.

At the beginning of her senior year, Win's father was offered a job at Hawkins Lab and he accepted, relocating the two of them to the rural town, hoping the change of scenery would be good for her, and Win was quickly branded as the popular new girl. Though Win couldn't really stand the "friends" she made, she figured it was better than being a loner. Little did she know how much everything would change with the arrival of Billy Hargrove.

[ See her Full Bio Here! 💚✨] [ Alternate Outfits #1 ]

[alittlebitofloveliness]

Johnny Cade and Steve Randle as Foils

Ok so the great thing about the Outsiders is how every character foils every other character in some way, but there is one glaringly obvious foiling is barely ever talked about and it drives me crazy because it’s brilliant. I’m talking of course, about the similarities between Johnny Cade and Steve Randle.

The brilliance of them as characters is that personality wise they’re almost complete opposites. Steve is cocky and self assured and has a bitter, occasionally cruel streak a mile wide. Johnny on the other hand, is unsure, quiet, and deeply kind. These differences are what people seem to focus on the most when discussing these characters, but as characters they’re actually INCREDIBLY similar.

Both of them are the members of the gang with the worst home lives, coming from downright abusive situations- yes, Dallas had a shit dad, but at the time of the book it’s established he’s living by himself at Buck’s, he’s made himself an adult and as such his home life doesn’t foil Johnny’s, not really. Steve on the other hand, still lives at home but gets kicked out every other week, and ends up crashing at the Curtis place or anywhere else he can find. His mother is deliberately never mentioned, leaving the audience to draw their own conclusions, but it’s clear Steve doesn’t have much of a relationship with her. Either she’s a doormat who doesn’t defend him when his dad is hollering or maybe even beating him around, or she isn’t around at all and she left him with his dad. Either way, Steve has an abusive father (EVEN if it isn’t physical it is DEFINITELY psychological and emotional) and a neglectful mother. We have even more backstory for Johnny whose mother is an emotionally abusive ‘selfish slob’ and whose father beats him viciously. Of all the gang, their backstories and home life are the most similar, and their characters have been shaped by it as a result. (The way Steve is sometimes vilified in this fandom for his very real responses to childhood trauma and abuse, while Johnny is universally pitied is a whole other essay so I’ll save if for another day.) 

Ponyboy even says as much early on in the book;

 “Johnny was high-strung anyway, a nervous wreck from getting belted every time he turned around and from hearing his parents fight all the time. Living in those conditions might have turned someone else rebellious and bitter; it was killing Johnny.”

Rebellious and bitter, huh? Sounds like Steve Randle to me. His presence in the book is to show what kids in Johnny’s situation but without Johnny’s kindness turn into. Yes, Dally foils him a bit in this regard too, but I think Steve is a better, more in your face example of it. Their are other pieces in the book too, that highlight Steve and Johnny’s similar upbringing and the effects it has had on them, without directly calling them out as foiling characters, such as the fact they’re the two members of the gang who Pony calls out as examples when he’s talking about starting smoking young (woohoo nicotine as a coping mechanism am I right?);

“Johnny had been smoking since he was nine; Steve started at eleven.”

Here, the linking of their names even in what Pony views as an innocuous thing- smoking isn’t a big deal to him- forces us as readers to think about why they started. Knowing that smoking is used by the greasers as a tool to help them calm down reminds us that at their core these characters aren’t so different, and they likely felt the need for nicotine to deal with horrible experiences Pony never had to. Ponyboy smokes a lot, and he started young too, but whatever his catalyst was, it wasn’t the same as Johnny or Steve’s.

Yet another attribute that links them as characters is their fierce independence. Johnny is young, and the gang is protective of him, but as his core he is incredibly self sufficient because he has to be. He finds himself places to sleep, is forced to provide himself with food, and prior to being jumped was fine walking by himself. Steve works for a living, and much like Johnny, he too has to find himself a place to sleep and food to eat on the nights where he isn’t safe to be at home. Both Steve and Johnny are also incredibly protective in their own ways, especially of their more ‘innocent’ best friends (Soda is less innocent than Pony by a long shot, but he is still used to a modicum of security that Steve isn’t.) Steve gets angry at Ponyboy on Soda’s behalf when he asks about Sandy, even though Pony had no way of knowing what happened. Johnny kills Bob for Pony and looks out for him a whole lot in the church, then later sacrifices himself when he pushes Pony out of the fire. To their buddies, their main ‘safe’ zones, both Steve and Johnny are ride or die.

Finally, an important scene that rounds out my analysis of them as foils, is when Dally dies and Steve breaks down crying. 

“Steve stumbled forward with a sob, but Soda caught him by the shoulders.”

Here we see Steve Randle pushed to his limit- and Steve’s breaking point leads to tears, whereas Johnny’s breaking point pushed him to kill Bob. There’s a subversion of their roles here, where the usually cold, bitter, hateful Steve shows a sensitive side, and quiet little Johnny Cade gets rough and cold. To me, this just shows once again, how they’re very similar characters, with similar trauma, that has simply shaped them differently and made them tough in different ways. Steve, with bravado, craving a fight all the time because he can’t fight the helplessness or the feelings of being stuck; Johnny, resigned to his lot in life and tough because of it, seeking out love when he knows he will never find it where he wants it; but at their cores the both of them are battered, lonely kids who were forced to grow up way too fast.