#steve: im just a boy

[stevie-petey]

hear me out, imagine if steve wasn't that much of a loser with girls. A blur where a girl kinda flirts with him at his job and bug would be like "i don't care...👀"

OH DELICIOUS REQUEST ANON

enjoy <3

"i gotta say, i love a man in uniform."

you drop the comic youd been reading onto the booth youre sitting at and watch the girl standing in front of steve, doing a horrible job of flirting with him. shes blonde, small and dainty looking, and you quirk your head as you watch her grab for steves arm.

steve, meanwhile, stares at her with wide and terrified eyes. "oh, uh. thanks, i guess? but what are you doing?"

"admiring the man in uniform," the girl giggles, now encasing her hand around steves upper bicep. she lets out a dramatic and far too fake gasp and giggles once more. "and hes a strong man at that."

"i mean, ive been working out." steve responds, his voice squeaky and uncertain as his heart drops. he knows hes said the wrong thing.

you narrow your eyes at his response.

the blonde girl leans across the counter, making sure to lean her chest close to steves face, and the poor boy is doing everything he can to keep his eyes focused on her face.

he can practically feel your eyes burning into the back of the girls head. he knows youre watching them and that he has maybe five seconds before you set fire to his car. steve clears his throat and tries to escape. "hey, uh. robin?"

his coworker opens the sliding windows and almost chokes on her spit when she sees the blonde girls boobs so close to steves face. "oh my god."

"yeah," he clears his throat again and motions over to the blonde. "robin, would you mind assisting this, uh. lovely customer while i go make sure the girl of my dreams doesnt murder me?"

"im not the girl of your dreams?" the blonde girl suddenly pulls away from steve with a sneer on her face.

"far from it, dude." robin snorts at her, now joining steve at the cash register. she takes a peek at where youre sitting and notices that youve been watching them the entire time, your expression stony and unamused. with a wince, robin pats steves back. "good luck, man."

"im so dead," steve drops his head in shame as he starts to walk over to you. he sees the annoyance on your face and you watch him approach with your arms crossed. he feels like hes walking towards a death sentence. when steve sits down at your booth, you lean back against your seat and stare at him. "have i ever told you how beautiful you are?"

"no."

"well, i should!" steves voice is higher than usual and he feels like hes about to die.

seeing that hes sufficiently terrified, you roll your sleeves up and bring steves hand to your upper arm, where your scar from almost two years ago resides. "feel that?"

steve stutters over his words. "you-uh. your scar? or, shit. no, your skin is so smooth? like, insanely smooth. smoothest skin ive ever had the honor of feeling-"

"no, silly," you look up at steve and bat your eyes at him. when his breath hitches and he risks a look at your lips, you smile. "i mean, ive been working out. cant you tell?"

steve practically tears himself away from you and you cant help but laugh at his misery. "you heard that?"

"oh yeah. real smooth, by the way." you roll your sleeves back down. "like my skin, apparently."

"im sorry, angel. she was scaring me and my brain short circuited." steve drops his head onto your shoulder, mourning his stupidity.

you bring a hand up to his hair and begin to play with it as you console him. you know he hadnt meant any harm, that he truly had responded to the blonde girl out of genuine stupidity and fear, which is only further proven by the way he melts against your body and wraps an arm around you. steve isnt even your boyfriend and yet here he is, soaking up your forgiveness as if his life depends on it.

the blonde girl looks over at the two of you and gives you a dirty look, which you smile at. you raise a hand and wave at her, smug, and she rolls her eyes and stomps away.

robin, meanwhile, gives you a thumbs up and shouts from across the room, "crisis averted, then?"

"i didnt die!" steve shouts back, face still buried in your neck.

"not yet, at least."

steve sighs. "yeah, tomorrow i'll probably say something worse."

"oh, you definitely will, honey."

“COME HOME” BLURB MASTERLIST

if you’d like to buy me a coffee ☕︎

[cvpidart]

No, I am not in love No, I'm not, not, not with you No, I'm not, not, not, not

Why would you think that?

[queenie-ofthe-void]

Steve finally agrees to play DnD to appease Dustin's incessant begging, but mostly to spend more time with Eddie, who he's got a massive crush on.

Cue Steve rolling a Nat 20 when trying to persuade an inn keeper to let a band of fugitives stay the night for free.

He sees it for the opportunity it is and cranks up the full Steve Harrington charm, laying it on as thick as he can.

Eddie, face on fire but unable to tear his eyes away from Steve literally smoldering at him, spills pop all over his DM notes and has to cancel the rest of the session for reasons...

... to go home and fix his notes, of course. Definitely not to go make out in Steve's car.

[nicholasistrying]

steve rogers as a boy dad

"tony as a girl dad" this "bucky as a girl dad" that WHAT ABOUT STEVE AS A BOY DAD? - ultimate frisbee. all. the. time. - they're both awful at cooking (steve only knows how to boil potatoes) - awkward puberty talks except steve never really experienced puberty so they're just staring at each other - being the father his dad never was for him - lots of arguments as the kid gets older ("it's not my fault you're a 100 year old virgin!" "WHAT!?") - steve teaching him to ride the motorcycle (he crashes it) - the kid starts getting into fights at school and steve's just like "well what did they say?" - steve at the pta meetings surrounded by moms (natasha joins him once and they leave him alone after that) - the kid and peter become instant friends and it annoys tony and steve to no end - steve talking about bucky and the only thing the kid can think is "this is so gay..."

[batcavescolony]

Jason Todd 🤝 616Bucky Barnes.

Haunting their mentors narrative for eternity.

[soupinaboot]

Fuck it. Every Steve Harrington headcannon I have because I've been rotating that boy in my head like a pig on a stick Part 2 this is a little more in depth than the first one but only by a smug

- Epileptic, either since he was young or developed it over time due to all those concussions he keeps getting

- Favorite fruit is blackberries I have no reason

- Kinda sad but he never really had friends, yeah he hung out with Tommy and Carol but that was about it. Like after the fall out with them he was by himself, alone. I feel like if he was as popular as we think he is, he would have at least one other friend right?

- Does not have a filter at all. That one scene where he just casually says, "Oh yeah my parents are out of town because my mom doesn't trust him to not cheat on her any who!" and I feel like he just kinda does that

- Star Trek fan but he just does not comprehend that it's supposed to be nerdy (this is not my own I saw someone else headcannon this please tell me if you find them I can not)

- Absolutely sucked at ELA, could be cause of dyslexia or not whatever you want buttercup

- But on the topic of dyslexia, this headcannon is one of the main reasons why I love math nerd Stevie so much. Like, ELA test and History test are mostly long paragraphs that he needs more time to read through and his teachers don't care enough to give him extra time like he needs. But math tests tend to have a small paragraph that he can read faster or just focus on the numbers and finish on time, so he just got really good at math so he would have at least one class he passed

- Survives off of coffee, lord knows he needs it

- My most random headcannon is that since his parents were never really around or cared much for his safety, he used to hang out outside a lot and explore the wildlife around, got really into nature and animals, bought nature books etc. But his dad told him nature and animals were girly and forced him to stop even though he really loved it

- If he does ever go to college (which he doesn't have to, though if Robin went he would probably go with her), he would either get in education major and become a math teacher or some form of environmental degree

- His love language is quality time

- Among the three of them, Steve and Carol were the closest. Yes, Steve and Tommy met first, and yes they tend to call each other their best friends, but in actuality Carol and Steve were best friends. They have mean girl energy.

- He used to also play hockey when he was younger but stopped playing due to scheduling and shit. But he really liked it cause whenever he would practice there were these older figure skaters who would teach him figure skating (he kinda liked it more than hockey but he never told anyone)

- Speaking of scheduling, he is always tired due to his packed schedule. Since he was young, his dad forced him into a lot of sports and didn't really give him a break. Add that to his piano lessons, his jobs, studying that his dad forced him to do, friends, etc... he is just perpetually tired. And it fucked up his sleep schedule developing into insomnia as he got older

- Most of his and Eddie's dates are just them taking naps

- Once he meets Corroded Coffin they all become best friends. Like best fucking friends

- Specifically Steve and Jeff

[broareweabouttoviberightnow]

the quietest week in tusla was the week Darry bundled all seven boys up in two cars n drove them all a million miles away to the nearest beach. On contrast, the most disruptive week in tusla was the week immediately followin.

[tragedy-machine]

Man, season 2 will be great, we'll get Niko back, Crystal will learn even more about her past and banish David for real and Charles will realize he's bisexual and in love with Edwin :) yeah

And Edwin will continue to be a bitch :)

I'm manifesting

[itsalmostavengers]

‘Coffee in bed’ for the ask prompt if you want!!♥️♥️

"I can't believe what I'm hearing right now."

"Tony." Steve sighed, shooting Bucky another murderous glare from across the breakfast table. "It's not that I don't like coffee--"

"According to Barnes it is, he just said it! That, those exact words: 'Steve doesn't like coffee'. Which can't possibly be right, because I've been making you a coffee in bed for the last three years - two sugars, dash of milk, just the way you like it, so someone here is lying." Tony folded his arms petulantly, honing in on Bucky's guilty face before the other man had the chance to look anywhere else.

Christ, the guy had only been living in the tower for two weeks. So far he'd broken one window, nearly burned down the damn kitchen, and was now in the process of shattering Tony's entire worldview. Or, at least, shattering the harmony of Tony and Steve's carefully-curated morning routine, guaranteed to bring maximum bliss. Supposedly.

They didn't get days off a lot. They had even fewer opportunities for lie-ins. If Tony wasn't running off to some meeting for some company somewhere, Steve was being called into SHIELD or catching up on the never-ending workload that came with their day job. It was gruelling and constant and neither of them would change it - but it did mean that when the days rolled around when they could have a morning to themselves, they took it. With a great amount of enthusiasm and panache, thank you very much.

It would go something like this: Steve would wake up first, because he always did, but Tony was a light sleeper and so as soon as the man in bed with him stirred, he'd wake too. Steve would need a few moments before he remembered he had nowhere to be, and then would promptly find Tony in amongst the sheets, latching onto him like the worlds sexiest, loveliest limpet. Mornin', he would say, sleep-slurred and with a twang of accent that only ever peaked out when he really wasn't thinking much. Tony would feel a kiss press against whichever part of his body Steve's mouth was nearest to.

After that, it tended to get a little X-rated.

But after that - well, that was when Tony would throw on whatever outfit was nearest to him and go make them both coffee, because that was just what they did. It was what he'd always done, from the first time he'd ever slept with Steve. And when he'd come back to bed with two cups in hand, Steve would be waiting right where Tony had left him with the softest smile on his face. And they'd drink their coffee together, limbs all tangled, reading or talking or just sitting in the precious few minutes of free time that they got with one another.

Except all of that was apparently a lie. A sham. Because Tony had just walked into the kitchen where Steve and Bucky were making their way through breakfast, asked Steve if he wanted a coffee, and before Steve had even had the chance to respond, Bucky had said, "Steve doesn't like coffee."

And now they were here.

"Bucky meant that I never used to like coffee," Steve corrected with too much force, his face doing that thing it always did when he was trying to get away with a white lie: cheek twitching, the left side of his mouth pulling up, a small frown burrowing its way into his brows as if his moral compass was giving him an ass-whooping from the inside out. No telling tales, it was saying to him.

Tony narrowed his eyes and turned back to Bucky, who immediately raised his hands in surrender.

"Hey, I have brain damage," he declared. "Disregard everything I say."

Steve made a displeased noise. Oh, and Tony had him now, because there was no way Steve was letting his best friend say that about himself. "That's not... okay, no, okay - maybe Bucky has a point."

"A point? It isn't exactly a philosophical quandary, Steve. Do you like coffee?"

Steve went very still, a flash of white peeking out as he dug a tooth into the plump pinkness of his bottom lip. Goddamn it, if only he didn't have to look so damn adorable when he was put on the spot - Tony barely had it in him to maintain his stern look.

"I've kind of... learned to tolerate it."

"Tolerate it?" Tony squealed. He wasn't proud of it, but he did, he squealed.

"Tolerate to the point of being, y'know - ambivalent!"

Tony threw his hands into the air. "Three years, Steve! I've been making you coffee for three years and you're telling me now that you don't even like it? Why did you not say anything!"

"I don't know!" Steve let his head fall into his hands, defeated. "The first time you brought one to me you just looked - I dunno, you looked all happy, and you said 'we should make a habit of this', and I didn't have the heart to tell you that I would've preferred a tea because I didn't want to ruin the moment, and then it all just got out of control and you kept bringing me coffee with these big smiles on your face and it looked like it mattered to you, like you really enjoyed doing this for me and so I just..."

"Drank something you didn't enjoy. For three years," Tony finished blankly.

Steve sighed. "I enjoyed the context which surrounded the act of drinking the coffee?"

"You are so uncool," Bucky informed him. He turned back to Tony. "You know, he once had this crush on Angela Perkins from across the road and spent 6 months carrying Charleston Chews wherever he went, just because he knew Angie loved them. He couldn't even eat 'em either - he was allergic."

Across the table, Steve was alternating between shooting Bucky mutinous glares and looking at Tony like a chastised schoolboy, and dear God, every day that Tony thought he'd reached capacity on the amount of love he could hold for one person, Steve did something else that raised the bar. What a ridiculous charade to keep up for no apparent reason. Steve must have known at some point that telling Tony the truth was not going to change any element of their relationship whatsoever, and yet he'd continued on anyway. Because Tony smiled at him when he handed it over, and apparently that made it worth it.

How very Steve.

Walking slowly around the table, Tony unfolded his arms and set them on Steve's shoulders. He lifted an eyebrow. "Holy shit Steve, wait a second: is Barnes trying to tell me that you have a crush on me?"

Steve rolled his eyes, looking somewhat bashful as he rolled his forehead onto the firm stretch of Tony's forearm. "Maybe," he hedged, and Tony could feel the smile as it stretched across Steve's face.

"You're ridiculous."

"Nah. You should'a seen the proud look on your face every time you handed it over. I know how much you like messing with all those fancy beans of yours." Steve glanced up at him then. "Plus, if I went a little overboard with the delighted noises, sometimes it got you worked up enough that you'd wanna--"

"Aaaand that's my cue!" Bucky declared, loud and hurried as he smacked a hand down on the table and jumped to his feet. "Wow! Well, this has been awkward from start to finish. I'm gonna go now. Maybe forever."

"We'll see you at dinner," Steve waved him off absently, then let his hands settle comfortably at Tony's waist. His thumb stroked a soft crescent across the exposed ridge of bone that peaked over Tony's low-slung trousers, and he bit his lip again.

"How mad are you?" He asked once Bucky had vacated the kitchen.

Tony considered it. "Mad enough that you're going to have to seek forgiveness somehow."

Steve checked his watch. "I reckon an hour will be enough time to atone."

"One hour twenty."

"Meeting at 11. One hour 10?"

"Deal."

Steve grinned up at him. "Perfect. But please, God, make me anything except coffee once we're done."

[findafight]

Robin chose Steve. Robin made the conscious and deliberate decision that she could and would trust Steve. She already liked him! She had fun working and bantering with him! They were already on their way to being weird little bffs and the torture just expedited the process. Steve chose Robin just the same! He thinks she's fun and cool and likes her so much! He chose to be honest and open with her too, putting himself out there.

Even though their interests on the surface level don't match why wouldn't they share them? Steve clearly caves when Robin wants to watch a movie he doesn't think he'll like, Robin can watch a March madness game or five.

Stop trying to take away their bond oh my god people can be close to more than one person!!! Their best friend doesn't have to be dismissive or mean or whatever in order for a romance to be special to them!

[cursedcola]

Everyone - I ordered 4 blind box plushies and the seller really said “I dub thee Savanaclaw….with an Ace”

They’re bullying him for not being swol lmfao

[uhsolikethis]

They had to get rid of Steve in the Captain America movies in order to stop MCU from becoming a love triangle.

Steve was fully flirting with Sam when they first met and was trying to live out his own "romantic sitcom fantasy" (How I Met Your Mother style) but had to put a pause on that because Bucky came back. And then Bucky had the nerve to not only avoid Steve, but when he does come back, he's trying to mack on Sam.

There would've been "Captain America Civil War 2: The Boy is Mine"

[harringroveera]

AU where Billy and Steve met when they were kids

[dcbutinamrev]

When I feel lonely from working from home as a writer and then I remember I have these guys to keep me company:

[lefthandarm-man]

Steve Rogers // Captain America Captain America: The WInter Soldier (2014)

the way he looks at bucky (part 1, part 2, part 3)

(bucky vers.)

[broareweabouttoviberightnow]

Soda flexes his fingers instinctively. Fiddles with the edge of his vest, pulls at a loose string at the bottom of his shirt. He wasn't nervous, per se. Just... fidgety. Steve side-eyes him once, bats his hand away from undoin' the buttons on his sleeve Darry had done up for him.

Somewhere out in the arena the announcer's voice echos off the stands, the crowd hissin' 'n booin' in one voice. Someone's ride cut disappointin'ly short. Not endin' bloody enough to earn the mobs sympathy.

There's light in Soda's veins. The rodeo's an alive thing 'n he can feel it twist 'n rear up all around him. He can smell the anticipation in the air, the thrum of a ride burnin' up his neck, down his throat, fillin' his lungs. Soon enough he'll be strung up between the sky 'n the swirlin' dust 'n for as long as he can hold tight (forever), fingers busted 'n bleedin' 'n clingin' on for a lifetime (a minute).

He can feel everythin'.

"You sure about this?" Steve asks, plaintively 'cause he knows the answer. He's got the collar of his vest popped up around his face to block out some of the dust, the edges of his tan lines showin', twistin' the buttons of the denim back 'n forth between calloused fingertips.

"Do ya hafta ask?" Soda's grin is sharp 'n laughin' 'n full of teeth. Steve always got a lil' nervy before Soda rode. 'N who could blame him? Maybe he was just makin' up for Soda's complete 'n utter certainty he'd be fine. 'Cause bad things just bounced right off Soda. Didn't stick one bit.

Steve nods lamely, looks out over the empty stables, sighs. "I don't."

"C'mon, Stevie." Soda nudges him hard, kicks out a boot, careful to keep his spurs tucked away. Steve knocks him away, rolls his eyes. "You're startin' to sound like Dar."

Steve scowls just like Soda knew he would. He leans further off the half wall he's perched up on 'n wags a mockin' finger in Steve's face.

"You're gonna get yourself trampled, Sodapop Curtis! If that horse doesn't kill ya I sure will!" Soda mimicks Darry's naggin' 'n Steve wants to keep lookin' put out but he can't really manage it anymore 'n the corner of his mouth crooks up.

"'N don't you go lookin' smug, Steven Randle! One day you're gonna crash that goddamn beater of yours in those fool-headed drags you're always mixed up in." Steve puts his hands on his hips 'n suddenly they're both gigglin'. Mouths wide open 'n throats lined with the packed earth.

"Sodapop Curtis?" They both shut themselves up right quick 'n one of the wranglers peers around the corner, beckons Soda on. Soda nods, hops off the wall, tugs on the bottom of his vest again. The man vanishes quick smart back around the corner.

Suddenly nothin's real funny at all. Soda can feel his heart thumpin' hard in his chest, kicks at the dirt. Steve looks pale. Studies Soda with narrow, dark eyes. Doesn't like what he sees.

"You sure?"

Yes. More than anythin'. "Yeah, man." Steve worries at his lip, doesn't say anythin' else. "Stop lookin' like you're sendin' me to the gallows, Stevie. I'll be fine." He shoots him a wink 'n Steve shakes his head, conceeds.

"Fine. Fine! You'll be fine." he throws his hands up, sounds like he's mostly tryin' to convince himself. Soda doesn't need assurin'. He'll be more than fine. He'll be alive.

Steve watches Soda grin, tip two fingers to his forehead, take a runnin' start towards the gate, jump to click his heels together 'cause he knows it'll make Steve laugh. 'N he does. But when Soda takes one last look back Steve's eyes are clouded 'n worried.

There's a breeze that blows through the gate that tastes like somethin' Soda's never felt before. Somethin' dark 'n cold 'n turns his stomach. Somethin' like the other side of anticipation. Like comin' down. Hard 'n fast.

"Hey Soda!" But then Steve's runnin' to catch up with him, stale air burnin' in livin' lungs. "Be careful out there, cowboy."

"Y'know me, Steve." 'N he tips his hat 'n hops the fence, smooth 'n practiced 'cause everythin's fine. Soda's alive. "Always." Like bein' careful was somethin' up to him at all.

The stands are packed. A mass of arms 'n legs 'n openin' 'n closin' mouths, whisperin' 'n hollerin' 'n sighin' all with one throat. The sun is honey in a glass, beatin' down 'n findin' every last one of the freckles dotted across Soda's cheeks 'n collar bone like hastily cast dice.

There's music playin' somewhere, creepin' out from the corners of the arena, shiftin' 'n echoin' 'n Soda can feel the tinny bass in his bones. The thunder before the lightnin'.

"-Sodapop Curtis!" The announcer shouts 'n suddenly every eye in the stands is on him. But Soda's only lookin' for a handful.

"Soda!" Someone calls his name over the wordless thrum of poundin' feet 'n wailin' voices 'n pointin' fingers. Pony's on his feet, jumpin' 'n shoutin'. Darry's got a hand on his shoulder to make sure he don't go straight over the rail with the sheer amount of thrashin' around he's doin' but he's hollerin' just as loud, grinnin' from ear to ear. Steve's pressed in on his other side 'n all that early grief seems to have burned right off him 'cause he could rival Pony with the sheer amount of wavin' 'n whoopin' he's doin'.

Soda grins, somethin' that hurts his face with the force of it. Not the kind of crowd pleasin' simperin' smirk that always got him tips down at the DX. Or the kind that pulled the corners of his mouth up but didn't really manage to fool anyone that knew him. No, Soda's grinnin' like he's full of light. 'N everyone could see.

He reaches up, pulls his hat off 'n shakes out his hair, bowin' deeply. The crowd wails. He's glowin'. He can feel it. He's on fire.

Someone hollers, crooks a finger, guides him up to the chute. The bronc rattles against the wall, tries to toss his head back, shifts angry 'n trapped 'n Soda pauses, places one hand against the soft pelt along his neck, feels his pulse beatin' hard 'n frantic against his palm.

Soda's never seen the ocean but he imagines the whole thing is there, rushin' through the bronc's veins, slammin' against his fingertips.

"C'mon, kid." Someone prods at him 'n Soda slides his hand down to the reins, throws himself into the saddle. The chute is burnin' metal, hot even through his jeans, the saddle is worn 'n sturdy 'n made for Soda. Everythin' sings.

'N then the gate is thrown open 'n the bronc doesn't even wait to clear the chute before he's buckin' up, desperate 'n wild. Soda clings on.

He's ridin' the back of a lightnin' bolt. He's never comin' down. Summer is in his fingers, on the back of his neck. He is a thousand focused things. He is August 'n July 'n especially June. He is the northern winds. He is the dust in his lungs. He is a cowboy. He's comin' home.

The next few things happen very fast.

The bronc twists unexpectedly. Soda's center of gravity pitchin' to the side. He scrambles to readjust, doesn't manage it. He feels himself tippin' 'n knows from years 'n years of practice he should just go with it. It's safer to just give it up. Fold your hand 'n wait a weekend to try again.

But Soda's burnin' up. 'N he doesn't ever want to go out. He can hold the whole world in his hands if he can just stay in that saddle.

So he spurs further, digs in his heels, tries to wriggle 'n fight 'n force.

It ain't enough. And the come down with Soda ain't ever pretty.

He tries to roll 'n the ground comes up to meet him fast. Too fast. He hits hard. Tries to pop to his feet. Keep movin'. Keep safe. Keep away. But he can't. Somethin' off center 'n off kilter. He can't place. His heart is beatin' so loud in his ears he can't hear nothin' else.

The bronc books for the other side of the stands, two wranglers beat it after him, cornerin' him, pullin' him away. But no one's lookin'. Not even Soda.

No. Every eye in that arena is trained on him. Splayed out 'n sittin' in the dust. For a moment there's silence. A ringin' in Soda's ears that turns into a rush. Singin' that fades off into screamin'.

He looks up into the stands, dazed, 'n turned around. He's still grinnin'. Can still feel that lightnin' bolt buzzin' against his skin. Like that year Soda was eight 'n Darry was twelve 'n he lost a bet 'n had to stick a fork in an electric socket. Just to see.

He'd fizzed out every light in the whole house 'n his daddy had damn near skinned him alive but Soda could still picture that feelin'. Like a Christmas tree or a house with all the lamps flicked on. Electricity all under his fingers, buzzin' 'n poppin' 'n speakin' its own language.

When he finds Darry out there in the crowd it all drains straight outta him. The kitchen sink with the plug pulled out. There's a look of deft horror on Darry's face. He's ashen, not movin' at all. Soda's stomach does a lurch 'n he hits the bottom. Hard.

For the first time he looks down. 'N for a moment he can't make sense at all of what he's lookin' at. That was his leg, right? Did it always look like that? Legs weren't supposed to bend that way, were they?

The crowd hisses, moans. It wasn't a long ride. But it was enough to earn their sympathy.

When he tips his head back again Darry's jumped the wall, runnin' hard 'n fast.

Funny. Soda giggles, 'cause he ain't thinkin' straight at all. If Darry had run like that at his last game his team woulda won. But then Steve 'n Pony are hot on his heels 'n Soda stops thinkin' anythin' at all.

'Cause maybe Soda's a bit of a bawl baby. That was fine with him. Better than to never cry at all, even when Steve 'n Two 'n Dallas teased him. But he doesn't think anyone could fault him now for pullin' the one leg he can still drag through the dirt up to his chest 'n lettin' out a low, tearin' sob that rips straight up from a place so deep in Soda it scares him.

'Cause he knows right there. Before Darry collects him up in his arms 'n carries him to the car. Before the drive, silent 'n hollow 'n filled to overflowin' with the knowin'. Before the doctors at the hospital have to reset his leg, Soda howlin' 'n sobbin'. Before Darry comes back into his room with the set in his jaw like someone died.

It's over. Soda's never gonna ride on the coattails of a summer wind ever again. He rode the lightnin'. 'N the lightnin' won.