#idk how steve does it

[fortheloveofaussiegrit]

C4F1: Abu Dhabi 2023, Saturday

[florallylly]

stobin except robin literally ignoring her crush so she can turn around and make fun of tammy thompson with steve harrington who ALSO ignores his date so he can agree vehemently (like i'm being hyperbolic and exaggerating but also i'm correct). anyways never ever would they get distracted from each other i think.

[every-aj-needs-an-angel]

Okay so my niece was born yesterday (finally!!) so obviously there's a lot of baby holding and oohing and ahhing over the little bundle of joy but all my brain can think about is...

Eddie seeing Steve hold a baby for the first time!!

Like idk maybe Joyce and Hop have a little one, maybe one of the kids get knocked up somehow, maybe Steve just finds he likes volunteering at the hospital and one day there's a preemie who needs skin to skin or whatever...

And I'm just picturing the look of pure joy and wonder on Steve's face as he looks up at Eddie with that "have you seen this?" look and Eddie just being like okay how fast can I make Steve a dad bc that's a look I need to see every day for the rest of my life

[dairyfairyy]

thinking about how dally died with the shops money in his jacket pocket. the $13 dollars in his pocket still hanging in the inside of his jacket when he rolled over, dead, in the middle of the street.

thinking about how the cops reached and searched him while he lay on the ground, sticking their hands into each and every pocket, pulling out Two-Bit's switchblade, some cigarette stubs, two crumbled dollar bills, and his fake ID.

thinking about how two bit and steve stood watching, looking at the cops reach and pull from a lifeless body as if he had something against them. as if he could jump off the pavement and lift the heater off the ground and point it at them again.

thinking about the way they spoke over the radio to one another, confirming that the gun wasn't loaded, how there was nothing that could have harmed them if he had pulled the trigger.

thinking about how the young seventeen year old lay on the ground dead because they pulled their trigger instead.

thinking about how dallas winston died because he wanted to be. how he died, not thinking about the funeral that would be held for Johnny in the following days, not thinking about the clothing he had left at his room at Buck’s, not thinking about how he never got the chance to go back to the curtis house after the rumble.

never thinking, but always knowing he would get what he wanted.

[chippedshake]

I wish I had the number to my younger self

Somehow, it's not until Ponyboy blows out the twenty candles on his cake that Darry processes Ponyboy's now the age he was when he had to take his brothers in. And he's still a kid.

Ponyboy may know what he's majoring in, but he has no idea what to do with his life, and Darry's a bit terrified to think of what would happen if he were left alone in a kitchen with instructions to make himself lunch, much less run a home and take care of two boys.

He was just a kid.

I'd pick up the phone and say, "You're only twenty and you've lost more than most people do

It took him a while to realise that most people at his job didn't want anything else. They didn't want an intellectual job, they didn't want to go to college, they didn't want to get out of Tulsa. They did the job because they liked it and Darry was never any more jealous than the day he realised that.

These people were happy doing the job because they managed to find other things that brought them joy, other things to make life colourful. Meanwhile Darry couldn't do anything but pull muscles and stare at brochures longingly as the layer of dust on them grew thicker and thicker.

You don't know it now, but there's still more to lose

He wasn't ready to lose two more people not eight months later.

He wasn't ready.

But life didn't give a fuck, apparently. Whether he was ready or not, two of his closest friends were gone in one night, one of them with a stuttered sentence from Ponyboy and the other with cracking gunshots as Darry pleaded with Death itself.

'Cause friends move away, and people don't get older

Sometimes Darry looked around and realised that no one really understood. No one really wanted to either. Everyone left the first chance they got and never looked back unless it was to spit in his face.

Paul never spoke to him after graduation until the rumble, and hadn't talked to him since. Cormac tried to stay in contact but didn't last two letters. Janine told him she would call him every day.

She didn't call once.

He wasn’t close to the gang, not like his brothers were. The closest one to him in age was Two-Bit, and mentally that closeness was irrelevant.

There was no one, not really, because his mom would've understood, and Dally could've taught him to get over it, and Johnny could've listened, and maybe, if he got to grow up, he could've understood.

But he didn't and none of them were there and Darry was stiflingly alone.

Your heart's gonna break over and over

Dally's burnt jacket, hung over a chair in the dining room. The necklace their mom always wore that now went under Soda's shirt. Ponyboy wearing Johnny's jacket whenever he visited. The school photo of his football team that he couldn't seem to force himself to throw away or take off the wall. The tie their father wore to meetings that Darry still wore to anything formal.

Two-Bit's new switchblade and that couch his mom thought was hideous and Steve's ring he got from Dally, and Evie's drawings, the same style as the ones she'd made for the funerals. Cherry Valance, who only talked to them because Bob died, and Marcia Sternberg, who took so long to talk to Two-Bit because she assumed he'd been too busy with everything that happened to call her.

There was a reminder in every corner of every room, chipping away at his heart. Inescapable and endless.

You're not to blame, so don't blame yourself

If he'd never hit him, Ponyboy wouldn't have run away, wouldn't have woken up Johnny, wouldn't have gone to the park, wouldn't have almost drowned (wouldn't wake up screaming five years later), wouldn't have killed Bob, wouldn't have run away again (wouldn't have chosen Dally over Darry) , wouldn't have been there for the fire, wouldn't have lost his best friend.

None of it would've happened if Darry hadn't snapped.

Maybe that’s why Dally asked for him when he called from that payphone. Why he asked for Darry. To remind him that it was all his fault.

I wish you knew the feeling wasn't permanent

The sleepless nights, the constant feeling of being behind, always having something to do. Not a second of rest. Whenever something was done, something else was waiting right behind it.

No end in sight.

Just work. And more work. And more work. Until he broke.

Watching people leave him behind as they made something of their life.

He wishes he'd known there was an end, that it wasn't always going to be like that. It would get better if he only asked for help.

I wish you knew your brother would come back again

It would've saved him so many hours if he'd just known Ponyboy would stop hating him and think he hated him back. That Soda would stop bottling up whatever it was he was bottling up and would finally break down in front of Darry, letting himself feel again. That Two-Bit would quit drinking once and for all almost a year after he started with Darry and Sodapop's help. That Steve would come up to him the day after Ponyboy graduated and told him he'd never admired someone like he admired Darry.

That he would still fight with Ponyboy sometimes and Soda would still say he was fine when he wasn't and Two-Bit would get up to go to the fridge compulsively and Steve would threaten him if he ever said anything to anyone about it. But it would get better.

His brothers would heal, eventually, and come back to who they used to be.

And time does heal, but don't heal everything

It strange, how everything changes so quickly, and yet remnants of the past are hidden at every corner.

Dad hasn't been around for six years, and yet Darry still turns around impulsively to ask which shirt to wear to work. He still curls up on himself and pretends his mom's arms are around him, telling him it'll all be okay when he feels useless and knows he's messing everything up.

When Dally had been gone for a year, Darry still saw him everywhere, in every hood and every little kid that wandered past. But once, when he saw Curly Shepard mugging a thirteen-year-old, he blinked and for a second Dallas Winston stood in front of him in all his long-lost glory.

He tried to save him — stop him from meeting his inevitable end. The end the Brumly boys would meet. The end Tim Shepard would likely meet, no matter how much Darry liked him. The end Dally met, despite everyone around him.

But Curly didn't want to be saved, and there's no saving someone who doesn't want to be helped.

If you knew it now who you were gonna be, you might care less about what they think

When he graduated from high school, all of his shirts were flannel. They weren't Madras, of course not, but he'd worn them so it would seem like they were.

When he went off to work each morning, he used to practice looking serious so his coworkers might think he was a bit older and buy the lie that was the ring on his finger. It wasn't a real wedding ring, just one he found in his mother's old jewelery box that he wore so it would seem like he had a normal family.

But now, as Ponyboy blows out his candles and Darry's brothers all cheer like they're still kids (because they are), he can't bring himself to care whether everyone he's ever known is together, talking shit about him.

Because Ponyboy's laughing and Two-Bit's glowing as Marcia wraps an arm around his waist and Steve's clapping a hand on Ponyboy's shoulder and congratulating him and Soda and Evie are stepping away to do some sort of stupid dance to the music that's playing on the radio and Curly Shepard may be a hood but he's also dipping his cake in Pepsi and Two-Bit and Marcia and Steve are joining Soda and Evie and Tim's smiling and Darry is overwhelmingly happy, surrounded by the people that actually matter.

Stop trying to impress the people who leave

His friends hadn't cared; they went off to college anyway and left Darry behind, drowning in his fake flannel.

His coworkers hadn't cared; they went out for drinks without him while Darry spent ten minutes in his truck before heading inside the house, trying to rip the stupid ring off because his mom's hands were so much smaller than his.

But he'd grown apart from his brothers in trying to impress other people. He'd missed out on petty arguments and moments of calm coexistence because he was hiding out so they wouldn't see him for the con man he was.

And they noticed. They noticed and they cared.

It scares you to death, but don't take it hard

Once, Darry was late to work because he'd frozen in the kitchen, staring at their calendar. It was his birthday in two weeks. He hadn't even noticed. He'd be twenty-one in two weeks and he hadn't done a thing since he'd turned twenty.

He wasn't a dollar closer to going to college or getting a job he could enjoy, and even if he could, he still didn't have any idea what he would study or work as. At this point, if he ever did get to go to college, he'd still be completely alone because everyone would be decades younger than him.

Time was running away from, slipping through his fingers, pooling on the ground before he even noticed he'd been holding it. Everyone else was getting somewhere, getting where they wanted to be. Just last week Soda'd gotten a raise at the DX, and Steve was looking into becoming an actual mechanic. Two-Bit was concentrating on crawling out of his addiction, and Ponyboy was more than making up for the time he'd missed at the beginning of the year.

And Darry was in the same place he was last year.

Now he's twenty four, and if his twenty-one-year-old self could see him, he'd probably run away screaming. Still no plans for getting to college, still at a dead-end job here.

But he has friends at his job, and he doesn't quite hate it. His brothers are home, not all living with him, but in the neighbourhood, and Ponyboy's just a phonecall away. Even Tim is just a couple blocks away, and he's always up for a walk to complain about little siblings and the shit they get up to.

Yeah, he hasn't done what he wanted to do when he was eighteen. But who has?

You're gonna ask: Why?

He was cleaning his room one night when he couldn't sleep and found an old picture of himself under his mattress, maybe fallen, maybe placed. It was from his graduation, an eighteen-year-old Darry smiling between his two parents, holding his diploma proudly. Hope in his eyes, dreams as big as he could imagine.

It was a couple weeks later that they did the math for the college he wanted to go to and realised he wouldn't be able to go. His parents told him to get a job, start saving up, and get in a couple years late. He could still do it.

Until they weren't there anymore and his savings had to go to headstones and funerals and bills.

No one told him what to do with the dreams that were floating away like a balloon someone let go of. No one told him how to ground himself and start taking care of his brothers. No one told him how to plan meals and do laundry and budget and do the hours he needed at work while not fading away from his brother's lives.

Why wasn't there anyone there? Why did he need to learn all of it alone?

You're gonna want answers

The next day he sunk to his knees, pathetic, crying on top of decaying organic matter, pleading to grey lumps of stone.

It was the first time he had been there since the funeral, too afraid of breaking down in front of his brothers. He couldn't cry in front of them anymore, and knew he'd break that promise if he went there with them.

With his hands on the ground, touching the same dirt his parents were buried under, Darry asked them why it had to be him. Why Uncle Louie couldn't take care of them, why he had to figure everything out on his own, why it all fell onto his shoulders.

Hate to be the one to tell you this

But you'll be alright, kid."

[alaskan-wallflower]

soda’s definitely got really strong legs. stronger than steve for sure. steve has the upper strength while sods has the lower strength.

for one, he did rodeos, and the thigh strength and the core strength to balance while horseback riding is INSANE. let alone the fact he was doing that at sixteen or younger, holy shit—those rodeos definitely did good for his legs.

i dunno. i feel like soda doesn’t think he’s all too strong but then once it involves something with leg or core strength, he’s a god.

[autumnrory]

really and truly unless it's a discussion about why peggy/steggy fans shouldn't like endgame, at this point idk why people feel the need to continually make the argument about her having a family as if that's the biggest problem about the ending especially when i figure most people are of the belief that it was another timeline or whatever idk what the current consensus on that is in the mcu and i don't care

but what about the fact that it destroyed steve's family? does that not matter because it's not the standard spouse and children but is instead a family he built for himself with sam and nat and bucky? because it's easier to decide steve is a selfish asshole and always has been instead of acknowledging that that storyline did more of a disservice to him than to anyone else? like oh maybe peggy's family was erased and that's horrible but it doesn't matter that steve's family was abandoned in the midst of the kind of trauma he knows very well?

i've said it before but it makes me so sad that so many people just turned on steve and decided a decade of movies don't matter in the face of one shitty desperate attempt of a movie to make him look like a pathetic creep just so they could justify their heterosexual nonsense ending

[toothachepup]

Golden Boy

Saw the harness on twt and got temporarily possessed. Figuring out how to color the gold was a fun challenge and I'm happy with the outcome, so here :)

[blushweddinggowns]

The first thing Steve could hear when he woke up was yelling. A lot of yelling. 

It was hard to even make out what they were saying through the collective noise, but he could at least recognize Eddie’s voice, “You little assholes said we were going to the hospital!”

“We will! Right after we finish the plan!”

Eddie was fuming, Steve could tell just from the tone of his voice. Though it usually took a lot to make him that angry. What the hell could have happened?

“I swear to God,” Eddie hissed, “When this is all over I am kicking all of your asses.”

Steve groaned, shifting his head. It hurt like a bitch, like someone had taken a bat to it. But the voices around him were getting clearer and clearer. 

"Shut the fuck up!” Eddie hissed out, venomous enough for it to actually work on most of them, “I think he's waking up. Baby, can you hear me?”

"Why do you keep calling him that?!" That was Mike, Steve was sure. 

"Why the fuck do you think?!"

As much as Steve loved the sound of Eddie’s voice, he’d really appreciate it if he toned it down a little. He opened his mouth to tell him just that, but all that came out was a pained whine. He felt cool hands go to his face, gentle as he murmured, “Sorry, Stevie. I’m here, are you okay? Can you hear me?”

Steve slowly blinked his eyes open, cringing at how that just made his head pound worse. Eddie was hovering above him, petting his hair from his spot in his lap, looking like he was on the verge of tears, “Eddie?"

"Oh thank god,” Eddie said, voice cracking near the end, “Are you okay? How’s your head?"

“Hurts,” Steve whimpered, struggling to sit up. Eddie scrambled to help him, easily lifting him by his arms pits and into his lap. Steve let his head fall onto his shoulder, grimacing at the lights flashing by. His head was fucking pounding, hard enough to make spots cloud all over his vision. But then Eddie’s arms were around him, subtly rocking him back and forth, instantly comforting.  

But then Mike was yelling again, “Is he cheating on my sister?!”

Steve cringed at the noise, eyes still struggling to adjust to the difference in light. 

“Just give him a second,” Eddie seethed back, his hand rubbing up and down Steve’s back, “He probably has a concussion.”

Steve brought a hand up to his forehead, a futile attempt to rub the pain away before asking, "What’s happening?”

He was at least starting to be able to see again. He looked up at Eddie who was gnawing on his bottom lip. He looked weirdly guilty like he just knew he was about to be in for it. He coughed, “A lot of things are happening, but they can wait. How do you feel?”

He felt confused, despite his vision fully clearing. He was just about to say as much when he stopped, eyes drifting down to Eddie’s chest. Had his shirt always been that red? With a trembling hand Steve reached out to touch it, eyes widening when his fingers came back wet. It was blood. Eddie was bleeding. 

The sight of his boyfriend hurt was enough to snap him right out of his pained haze. He started trying to find where it was coming from, voice near hysterical when he asked, “Are you okay?” 

Eddie stopped his wandering hands, holding them in his own, voice soft, “Hey, hey, I’m fine. Don’t worry, it’s not mine.”

Okay. Okay, Eddie was fine. And Steve wasn’t dying so things could officially be worse. Steve could work with that. He needed to catch up with what the fuck was happening here. It was getting a little easier to think and to see. Steve looked around, vision still a bit blurry but clear enough for him to be confused. They were in a car, with the kids? But why were they in a car? Whose car was this? And if Eddie was in the backseat with him….then who the hell was driving? 

He leaned forward, struggling a little against Eddie’s hold before he caught a glimpse of who was in the driver’s seat. 

Steve’s mouth fell open, before what sounded suspiciously as a screech came out of his mouth, “Is Max driving?!” 

“Baby calm down! I was driving at her age, it’s fine!” Eddie said right as she mows down a freaking mailbox. 

That was not nearly as comforting as Eddie thought it was. Steve stared at him, incredulous when he asked,  “What the fuck happened!?”

“Billy almost killed you!” Dustin piped up, “And then Eddie came in and he like freaked out and it was awesome!”

“Yeah!” Lucas agreed, gestures wild as he tried to reenact his description, “It was crazy! He like sliced his face open and then he got him on the ground like had his arm on his neck and then knife in the other hand and-”

“And there was blood like everywhere,” Dustin went on, just as imaginative with his demonstration as Lucas, “And Billy started screaming and then Max stabbed him with the needle and we had to tackle Eddie off of him or I think he would have killed him-”

Eddie leaned over, quickly clamping a hand over Dustin’s mouth, eyes flitting between him and Steve, “I will do anything you want if you just stop talking.”

“So you won’t kick our asses after all of this?” Lucas asked, “And you’ll help us burn the tunnels?”

“I-okay,” Eddie took a deep breath before continuing, like he was really capable of an explanation that would suddenly make all this shit not insane, “Angel, I kind of lost the plot when I found you beaten into unconsciousness, alright? I was too worried about you to think straight.”

“So you almost killed someone, got swindled by kids to do this stupid fucking plan, all while letting a twelve-year-old drive?”

“I-yes,” Eddie admitted, at least having the good grace to look guilty, “That about sums it up.”

Jesus Christ. 

From the newest chapter of this fic!

[brionysea]

I still have no idea if karen wheeler is even aware of el's existence as mike's girlfriend. do they think her name is el or jane?

[soundwave-radioandbroadcast]

So uh...

may be over head just a smidge....

[hall0wedwyrm]

making a Smash Bros AU just so they can be friends...

but immediately being derailed by-

you guys don't know the core of this AU and i wont be telling you for a while.

edit also i will be writing for this AU the dynamics are just tooo funny

[hauntingblue]

Last arcane episode ever..... here we fucking go....

[the-fire-might-be-shooting-at-us]

Yk it’s bad when beating up a character to near death/unconsciousness isn't the worst thing someone’s fav did

[florallylly]

concept: card shark steve harrington, heir to a chain of casinos

[mossycobbld]

Proposal; into the Yeuniverse

During the scene with Angstrom Levy when Invincible is placed through numerous portals he falls into different universes that all have Steven Yeun as an actor/voice actor.

So imagine Mark fighting through the Walking Dead while the group watches.

Rick: "He sounds familiar."

Mark in Tuca and Bertie world.

"Things have calmed down. But why did this one bird give me a picture of myself as a gift."

Into Nope:

"Giant threat? Easy target."

Into Voltron

"Owwww"

oooh thats cool :00 imagining steve from trollhunters and avatar wan meeting mark 😭 mark would probably think avatar wan is SO SO SO cool which is understandable cause. Dude is Literally the avatar!!! but mark meets steve and hes like “this steve guy is lame ://“