#poor Stephen

[doctorstrangehands]

Marinette practicing her spells

She spends a lot of time in her room at the Sanctum studying spells because she wants to be just as good as Stephen one day.

[popcorn-plots]

during some sort of culture night, Stephen is asked to demonstrate a popular dance from America.

Stephen pulls out the macarena and looks utterly ridiculous doing it.

(based on a true story from my French teacher lmao)

[popcorn-plots]

@invye afterwards, Wong makes him soup

Alternative timeline where Stephen’s hands froze before he opened the portal

[youngvoidraven]

I'm never getting over the fact that mordo left Stephen alive just because he'd cause more trouble as a spirit than a...well human.

[prettywitchiusaka]

Not sure about anyone else, but I couldn’t help but feel sorry for Stephen while I was reading Epic Collection Volume 11.

First, he’s forced to emancipate himself from the Vishanti and most of the Godly entities he draws power from because he doesn’t want to fight their thousands year war (not that I blame him).

Then he nearly gets his life force stolen trying to save Rintrah from a demonic cult...only for Rintrah to stupidly sacrifice himself and end up mostly dead.

Then the plot of Infinity Crusade happens, and not only is he unable to resist The Goddess’s control over him, but both attempts he makes to try and gain power in an effort to thwart her results in him being told, “Nope! Sorry!”, and getting his memory wiped.

And he has to deal with some snot-nosed punk as his new apprentice.

Point I’m getting at here is that Stephen goes through a lot of lows during this section of the Sorcerer Supreme run.

[random-lil-illing]

i had a vision,,, asexual dps fans what do we think

[maaikeatthefullmoon]

*snort*

King: HE’S NOT MY FUCKING FRIEND!

Midnight Pals: Elon's Back

King: submitted for the approval of the Elon Musk: [rising from bushes] eyyyy stephano king Koontz: oh steve! it's your friend! King: he's not my friend Koontz: but clive said- Barker: ah ha ha King: goddamn it clive!! now you've got everyone saying it!

Elon Musk: eyyyy stephano king wottsa matta for you Poe: steve can you please tell your friend to leave us alone King: he's not my friend! we're not even acquaintances! Musk: eyyy stephano king why you no lika da elon Musk: see, i giva you da check King: i don't want it! stop!

King: elon, maybe you shouldn't give verified checks to terrorists on twitter Musk: eyyyy why you calla it da twitter wottsamattaforyou, you deadnama da twitter! Musk: ya musta respecta de transition! Musk: eyyy you lika da joke? elon maka da joke Musk: da one joke Musk: elon only needa da one joke

King: elon, that's illegal Musk: eeeeey i identify assa da helicopter! King: you could go to jail Musk: eeeey you gotta da blue hair! whya you so a woka stephano king? King: for real, elon, you could get in trouble Musk: eeeeeey uh Musk: uh Musk: Musk: eeeeey i identify assa da helicopter!

Poe: look steve i know you like playing with your friend King: he's not my friend!!! Poe: but he's really kind of obnoxious King: he's not my friend! he just keeps showing up! Poe: you need to tell your friend that this is a private gathering King: he's not my King: goddamnit!!

Elon Musk: eyyyy now i tella da story Musk: here a picture offa da nazi frog King: that's not a story! King: that's just a meme! Musk: you no lika da memes??? issa good memes! Musk: eeeey stephano king i breaka you face!

Musk: you no lika da elon? eyyyyy i showa you all! Musk: i buya dissa campfire!! Musk: now itsa mine? Musk: [stomping on fire] now whosa laughing ey??? ey??? paisano!!! Poe: King: Barker: Lovecraft: Koontz: Musk: [stomping on fire] now whosa laughing???

Musk: [stomping on campfire] i owna da campfire!! letta datta sink in! King: elon! your pants are catching fire! Musk: [in flames] mama mia!! why da jewish media do thissa to me???

[reddje]

finn wolfhard is so over these little gay people

[screechingchaoscrusade]

Spider looking onto the fires of the burning forest (pretend one of the scientists is holding spiders hand and ushering him inside)

I haven't drawn in weeks, this was more of a warmup for me to get back into things.

I would think Neytiri had this utter hatred for spider after the humans came back 💔 she already disliked spider from the start lol

Kiri trying to make him feel better after it's very clear Neytiri doesn't like him.

A wip piece I do not think I will finish, I'm getting lazy and lazier by the day

[p1zzaparty]

I always imagined Eddie having such shit luck when it came to crushes and romance, especially as a younger kid. He never had a healthy outlet to express those kinds of feelings and because of that hed become kind of stone-walley as a result. Even when he'd get older and people would now express that to him, he wouldn't know how to handle it like a normal person. Treating it more like a business transaction.

It's still kind of hard for him to express his romantic desires even if its not impossible, dudes just traumatized by the disproportionately harsh rejections he faced.

[prettywitchiusaka]

Finally! Someone who acknowledges how incredibly easy it is to break into the Sanctum.

I’ve lost count of the number of people who’ve broken into the Sanctum too.

Captain Marvel (2023) #5

[doctorstrangehands]

Stevie (Pilot Chapter)

note: this will go to ao3 at some point

Tuesday, November 18, 1997

Stephen Strange woke to the sound of his mother’s soft voice carrying through the haze of sleep. “Stevie, sweetheart, time to wake up,” Beverly called, her tone warm and soothing as the faint creak of the old farmhouse’s wooden floors announced her presence. “Happy birthday, darling. Seventeen today.”

Stephen groaned, burying his face deeper into his pillow. His mother’s words were meant to comfort and celebrate but only reminded him of the weight that pressed against his chest every waking moment—especially on mornings like this. He didn’t want to be seventeen. Didn’t want to face the milestone without her.

“Stevie, don’t make me come in there. Breakfast is almost ready, and you’ve got chores before school.” Beverly’s voice held a playful tone, though Stephen could hear the tinge of annoyance in her voice.

“I’m up,” he mumbled into the pillow.

“Good,” she replied with a satisfied hum before her footsteps retreated down the hallway.

Stephen sat up reluctantly, the thin morning light filtering through the curtains of his bedroom. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, but no amount of effort could dispel the heaviness that lingered. Today was supposed to be a celebration, but all it felt like was a cruel reminder of everything he’d lost.

It had been almost ten years since Donna died. Almost a decade since that bright, laughing girl had been taken from him. His baby sister, his partner-in-crime, the one person who had made this lonely, dusty farm feel like home. Gone, just like that and yet he was still here.

He ran a hand through his dark hair and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. The cold floorboards sent a shiver up his spine. But the shame and guilt that simmered inside wouldn’t be so easily dismissed. He’d been the one who had lived, and every year that passed without her felt like another year stolen from her memory.

Stephen glanced at the framed photograph on his nightstand. Donna, grinning ear to ear, her arm slung around his neck as they both beamed at the camera. They couldn’t have been more than six and seven, their faces smudged with dirt from a day spent exploring the woods behind the farm.

“You should have taken me,” he whispered, his voice breaking as he stared at her frozen smile. “Not her. Me.”

He’d screamed them at the sky so many times, cursed a God he wasn’t sure he believed in. If God was real, then why had He let Donna die? Why had He taken the best part of Stephen's life and left him with this aching emptiness?

“Stevie, come on!” Beverly’s voice called again.

Stephen forced himself to stand, dragging his feet as he crossed the room to pull on his jeans. He twisted around to throw on an old band t-shirt and flannel shirt. He caught his reflection in the small mirror by the dresser. Haunted eyes stared back at him, too tired for someone so young. 

“I should’ve died,” he muttered, the words bitter on his tongue. His throat tightened, and he swallowed hard, glaring at his reflection. “God, you’re cruel. You took her and left me. Why? What’s the point of this?”

He turned away quickly and was unable to bear the sight himself. As he headed downstairs, the smell of frying bacon and fresh coffee wafted through the air. The familiar scents tugged at something inside him, a faint reminder of what he still had, but it wasn’t enough to fill the void. Nothing ever was.

The kitchen smelled of butter and toast, a warmth that should have felt comforting but didn’t quite reach Stephen. He stepped into the small,cozy room and was immediately greeted by his mother, who pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Happy birthday, Stevie,” Beverly said softly, with a smile. Her hazel eyes sparkled with affection, though there was a shadow of worry behind them, as there always was these days.

“Thanks, Ma,” he replied, his voice barely above a murmur. He slipped into his usual seat at the table, keeping his eyes downcast.

Eugene Strange sat across from him, his presence as heavy and still as a stone. He held a cup of coffee in silence, the lines on his face deepened by years of sorrow and bitterness. He didn’t look up and didn’t acknowledge Stephen’s arrival.

Victor, who was sitting beside their father was busy fiddling with a fork, his youthful energy barely contained. At thirteen, he still had the roundness of a child’s face, but his sharp blue eyes seemed to take in everything. When he noticed Stephen sit down, he smiled faintly. “Happy birthday, Stevie.”

Stephen gave him a small smile in return. “Thanks, Vic.”

Beverly set a plate of eggs and toast in front of him with a carefulness that felt almost ceremonial. “There you go, sweetheart. Eat up. And happy birthday again. I love you, Stevie,” she said, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“Love you too, Ma.” Stephen said quietly,staring down at his plate.

The scrape of Eugene’s fork against his plate was sharp in the silence. Stephen’s shoulders tensed, waiting for the usual wave of resentment to come crashing down. His father didn’t speak, but the way he stared briefly at Stephen—hard, cold, accusing—was enough.

Eugene hadn’t forgiven him. Stephen doubted he ever would.

He remembered the day Donna died as if it were yesterday. The shattering of the ice, the water, his frantic screams, the overwhelming helplessness as he fought to save her and failed. He had done everything he could, but it hadn’t been enough. Eugene… Eugene saw it as failure.

Beverly moved around the kitchen, humming softly as she worked. She was the glue holding the family together and the only one who still spoke of Donna with warmth instead of blame.

“Don’t forget to pick up the mail after breakfast, Stevie,” Beverly said as she poured herself a cup of coffee. “And maybe take Victor with you. ”

Victor nudged him under the table with his foot, grinning. “I’ll race you to the mailbox.”

For a brief moment, Stephen let out a small chuckle. “You’ll lose,” he said, trying to match his little brother’s energy.

Eugene’s fork clattered against his plate as he stood, the legs of his chair scraping harshly against the floor. He didn’t say a word as he left the kitchen, his presence vanishing like a storm cloud.

The silence he left behind was suffocating. Beverly’s hum lowered for a moment before she regained it, her back turned as she tidied the counter.

Victor looked at Stephen again, his smile dimming. “Don’t worry about him,” he said in a low voice.

Stephen forced another smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah, don’t worry about him,” he whispered.

As he picked at his breakfast, Stephen’s thoughts drifted to Donna again. To her laugh, her bright eyes, the way she used to call him Stevie and jump on his back. He missed her so much it hurt, and that hurt only deepened the rift between him and his father.

Beverly sat down beside him, her hand brushing his. “You’re a good boy, Stevie,” she said softly, her voice was full of a mother’s love. He had the unshakable belief he didn’t feel he deserved it.

“Thanks, Ma.” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

[incorrect-losers]

Stan: *Reprimanding the losers*

Mike: Yeah, okay, Dad

Stan: Mike…

Mike: Yeah?

Stan: Don’t ever call me Dad again

Stan: *Leaves*

Mike: How do you think he’d feel about Mom?

Eddie: Let me know when you’re going to do that, so I can run

[trashm0utheds]

honestly that Richie Tozier guy is lucky for someone like Eddie Kaspbrak to be laughing at his jokes like that guy is trying hard. sometimes, even the Losers cannot see what's hilarious with what he said, they're just annoyed cus he can't shut up.

Richie: *just finished making a joke*

Eddie: *laughs so hard, his cheeks are burning*

Stan, raises his brow: What's so funny about that?

Bev: I think we missed the joke.

Ben: Maybe Eddie can tell us.

Eddie, just awestruck and in love with Richie: Huh, what?

The Losers: *laugh at Eddie's face cus he's just adorable*

Mike: I think he doesn't even know.

Bill: He's just lost like us.

that Richie guy has gotten better. i mean, isn't he like a famous comedian or whatevaa

[emilylsart]

I watched a part of today's Nintendo Direct and RAMONA FRIGGIN' FLOWERS FROM SCOTT PILGRIM IS GOING TO BE A PLAYABLE CHARACTER IN THE NEW FUNKO FUSION GAME LET'S GOOOOO!!

Bonus: SCOTT, STEPHEN AND GIDEON ARE GONNA BE HERE TOO AAAA I'M DYING OF HAPPINESS

Bonus 2: two more Scott Pilgrims (the original and the back of his head for no reason)

Bonus 3 (6/19/24): I JUST NOTICED THAT THE FRIGGIN' KATAYANAGI TWINS STAGE FROM THE MOVIE IS IN THE GAME TOO GAAHH HOW DID I MISS THAT?!

And big dragon too...There they are if you want proof :) You can just see part of the twins' heads for now...time to update my tags 😅 Can't wait to see what Funko!Scott's world looks like!!

Just wanted to share them all because AAA SO EXCITING!! 😄

[stalebagels]