TYLER HOECHLIN As Glen McReynolds In EVERYBODY WANTS SOME!! (2016)

isn’t he a dream?

Steve and Eddie having to drive the kids somewhere and since there’s nine of them in total, ten if Robin is tagging along, they have to take two cars so obviously the ones with actual licenses have to drive. And Eddie is immediately like “I’ll take the boys, you can take the girls” but starts to doubt his decision right away because uhm why does Steve seem so happy about that?

Eddie really thinks it would be easier this way. I mean he knows most the boys little better and. They’re all guys? Nerdy guys too. He can handle them. Steve can try to deal with the girls. Like Robin is a force to be reckoned with and he has to have Max AND Erica in the car with him as well ? With the addition of a girl with actual super powers? Yeah sure Eddie is the one who’s gonna have it easy…

Or so he thinks. He just forgot to take into account the fact that the girls? They all get along just fine. Meanwhile the boys? Sure they are best friends but they can have a debate over EVERYTHING. And they will too.

This would be most hilarious comedy scene honestly. Showing Steve and the girls in the car. The music is nice and everything is calm and they’re all smiling and having fun. Switching to Eddie and the boys and it’s all heavy metal and screaming and rage and something might be on fire too- and cut back to Steve and girls and they’re just happily singing along their pop tunes.

Eddie is gonna need a vacation after this car trip.

clingy

Steve Rogers x reader

A/N I'm sorry for not posting for a few days, I will catch up but my son has been ill and I've been focusing on him. This is a part of my 100 followers celebration. Also, all mistakes are my own, so if you see any feel free to comment them and other comments, likes and reblogs are appreciated.

THIS IS NOT AN 18+ FIC BUT I STILL FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE WITH MINORS READING MY FICS SO PLEASE DNI IF YOU ARE A MINOR

Summary whenever you come home from a mission Steve feels the need to be touching you at all times

DO NOT REPOST ON ANY OTHER APPS/WEBSITES. THE ONLY PLACE THIS FIC IS ON IS TUMBLR.

Warnings fluff

Steve wasn’t really a clingy person but when you come back from a mission, you saw a different side to america’s golden boy. 

As soon as the quinjet landed, Steve was running over, waiting for you to walk out. He picked you up and walk ed into the compound with your legs wrapped around his waist and your bag over his shoulder. 

He didn’t put you down until you reached the living room on your shared floor: he put your bag on the table and sat on the couch with you on his lap. 

“I missed you so much baby,” Steve mumbled into the crook of your neck. 

“I missed you too stevie,” you replied, running your hands through his soft locks of hair. 

You stayed like that for a while until your stomach grumbled. This made Steve chuckle and pick you up again.

“What do you want to eat darlin’?” he asked.

“I’m thinking takeout from that Thai place we went to before I went on this mission.”

“That sounds like a good idea babe. I’ll call them and you can go and get some blankets to make the couch more comfy,” he said, kissing your forehead and putting you down.

You walked into your shared bedroom and grabbed every blanket in sight (there were many since you loved to hoard blankets) and arranged them on the couch. Then, you grabbed the pillows off your bed and arranged them so both you and Steve would be comfy. 

A few minutes later, Steve walked into the living room and laid down on the couch with his head on your lap.

“They said it should be here in 15-20 minutes,” Steve told you with a smile on his face since you had started to play with his hair.

“That means we can start a film. What do you want to watch baby?”

“What was the film you said you wanted to watch with me before you went on the mission?” 

“Are you talking about A Muppets Christmas Carol?”

“Yeah, that one.”

“We can watch that baby, I just gotta find it on Disney+ first.”

Not many people knew this but Steve loved musicals, he didn’t know why but theres something so magical about them that always captivated him. He doesn’t tell many people this fact about him though since he’s a bit embarrased about it (he was almost too embarrassed to tell you but a few kisses sorted that issue out.)

You pressed play on the remote and saw a smile creep onto Steve’s face. You loved to see him so happy. 

15 minutes into the film you were alerted by F.R.I.D.A.Y that someone was at the gates with a delivery for you.

“I’ll go and get it darlin’” Steve told you, smiling.

It wasn’t long before Steve was back. You grabbed you food and sat on the couch. Steve walked over to you but he didn’t sit on the couch, he sat between your legs- you had already put a few pillows and blankets there on the floor, knowing Steve would sit there. He rested his head against your left leg while he ate his food and watched the tv.

Once the both of you had finished eating, Steve wrapped his arm around your left leg and gave your thigh a kiss. This didn’t look like anything special, but to Steve it was a perfect level of intimacy for him and his slight clingyness.

This being accompanied by you constantly running your hands through his hair made him feel happy and content that you where home but also that you were ok with his need to be touching you at that moment.

If you want to join my taglist to know when I post these fics or any others please click on the link.

Also, if you want to see what I reblog, my other account is @sebastianstanisahotmf-reblogs

Taglist: @buckys-wintersoldier, @nicoline1998enilocin

JOSEPH QUINN for Esquire Singapore

This is my first time writing for Steddie, so sorry if it's shit! Based on this post.

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No one had ever seen Steve cry, and at this point they weren’t sure it was even something he was capable of. So, as he stood over Eddie’s open casket with the only dry eyes in the room, no one really batted an eye.

It had been 3 weeks since Steve had carried the metalhead’s body out of the Upside Down, with Dustin leaning heavily into a misty eyed Robin and Nancy as he limped alongside them, tears still streaming from his eyes. Steve hadn’t shed a tear then, and he didn’t shed one now. It wasn’t because he didn’t care for Eddie, in fact he probably cared for him far more than he’d admit to even himself, but something just didn’t feel right. It was hard to grieve for someone when it didn’t truly feel like they were gone.

Eddie’s uncle had arranged the funeral to be a quiet affair, hoping to minimize the chances of any angry hicks’ gate crashing. So it was held in a small room at the morgue, with only close friends and family in attendance.

After a short speech from Wayne, everyone filtered through to say their own goodbyes. Mike and Lucas both stood by the casket momentarily, gripping the sides and saying their own quiet goodbyes. Erica didn’t say much, just placed a small black dice beside one of his hands before nodding down at him. Nancy went up with Johnathan and whispered a quiet thank you, letting her hands brush a stray lock of hair from his face. Dustin stood there in silence just staring down at Eddie’s still form before choking out a promise to look after Eddie’s ‘little sheep’. And then it was just Steve and Robin left in the room. Robin tugged on his sleeve, looking up at him with big pleading eyes until he nodded and walked up with her, he stood beside her as she whispered a soft goodbye, eyes then looking to him to do the same.

“Could I… I just need a moment with him, if that’s okay?” he said quietly, smiling gratefully as Robin just squeezed his hand and nodded before also exiting the room.

Eyes doing a quick check around the room to make sure there was nobody left to witness what he was about to say, Steve let his hands rest against the wood of the casket and leant down towards the long-haired man.

“Okay, you listen here you little shit, I know you’re not dead.” Steve whispered; eyes firmly trained now on Eddie’s face. His grip against the wood only getting tighter as the silence stretched on.

“Fuck.” he breathed, hanging his head at the lack of response, before turning to start walking away.

“Yeah, no shit Harrington.” Came the gravelly response from behind him, stopping him in his tracks.

As he slowly turned on his heel, he watched as Eddie pushed himself up into a sitting position, an almost familiar grin on his face had it not been for what looks like two fangs pushing down over his lower lip.

“What the hell, man?” Steve exclaimed, almost storming back over to the casket and taking Eddie’s face in his hands and tilting him from left to right to get a better look.

“Nice to see you too, Stevie.” Eddie murmured; cheeks being squished slightly by Steve’s grip on him.

“How long have you been, well not dead?” Steve huffed; brows furrowed as he let his gaze roam over the other man’s body.

“Honestly man, I have no clue. I woke up a couple of times, but this has been the first time I was actually able to move. Fuck, it really hurts dying y’know.” Eddie groaned, stretching all his limbs out and rolling his shoulders as he let his hands pick at the tight material of the black jacket he was dressed in, “Of course Wayne would take this opportunity to get me in a suit, I love the old man, but shit.”

“Really? I don’t think our biggest problem right now is your style choices, you’ve literally come back from the dead man.” Steve grumbled with a hand nervously running through his hair.

“Ooo, now that’s where you’re wrong Stevie boy, it’s always about the style choices.” Eddie grinned, loosening the tie that was around his neck with a grimace, "Anyway, what's the plan for breaking me out of here? Cus I don't know about you man, but I don't exactly love the thought of being buried alive."

“Look, you’re not meant to be being buried until tomorrow, can you just hang tight for a few hours? I can come by later tonight and sneak you out when there's nobody around” Steve said, hands landing like a disappointed parent on his hips.

“Harrington. You cannot be asking me to, what? Play dead?” Eddie scoffed, the realization slowly showing on his face as he realised that Steve was deadly serious. “Nah man, come on, there’s gotta be a better way than that?”

“Well, unfortunately for you, I don't think there is. You’ll get recognized the second you step out those doors, and I don’t know about you man, but I’m not exactly in the mood for a lynch mob right about now.” Steve said, raising an eyebrow as Eddie visibly deflated.

“Fine. Fine, but you better come back for me Harrington!” Eddie sighed, pointing an accusatory finger at the other man as he lay back down with a huff.

“Always, Munson.” Steve replied, knocking his knuckles against the side of the casket with a soft smile, missing the slight pink that rose in Eddie’s cheeks as he slipped out the room.

Niall performing Heaven | The Show Live On Tour in Düsseldorf, Germany (March 26th, 2024)

Every Step of the Way

Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

Summary: After struggling through the entire week, Steve’s there to comfort you when you need him the most.

Warnings: TRIGGER WARNING: severe depression is depicted, Steve and reader being naked in a shower together but nothing sexual, major hurt comfort vibes

Word count: 1.8k

A/N: this is 1000% self indulgent, I wrote this when I was in a really dark place, struggling to even just get out of bed every day and I needed Stevie there to comfort me. Banners by @vase-of-lilies

Masterlist | Ask me anything! | Library

Opening your eyes seems like an effort too great for the amount of energy in your reserves.

Every breath is a heave, as if trying to gasp for air with an anvil sitting on your chest.

The backs of your eyes sting with tears at the thought of needing to get out of bed. You don’t want to face the day, don’t want to be the early bird catching the worm. You want to stay under the covers and sleep, that’s all you have the motivation to do.

Dirty dishes are stacked next to your sink, they’ve been accumulating since early in the week and you’ve just not had the energy after working and making dinner each night to actually wash them yet.

Clothes litter the floor of your bedroom, but you’ve put off going down to the laundry room for the past few days, with each new sunrise promising it’ll be tomorrow you’ll find time to do it, but that tomorrow never comes.

The bathrooms need cleaning, the floor needs vacuuming, surfaces need dusting - you put off doing them last weekend to focus on other household chores, but this weekend has come around and you’re not any more inspired to complete them.

You hear keys rattle in your front door, the sound startling you enough to finally open your eyes, but not sufficiently concerning to warrant leaving your bed. The only person who owned keys to your place was your boyfriend and though you didn’t want him to see the mess you were living in, there wasn’t anything you could do in the two seconds it would take for him to open your door.

As if instinctually he knows you’re still snuggled up in bed, you hear his heavy footsteps striding steadily towards your door.

Bracing for the furious displeasure you have been conditioned to receive from ex partners when they discovered you in a relapse, you pull the covers tighter around yourself as if to shield you from what was about to happen.

“Stevie…” Your voice is soft, vulnerable as he enters the room, but it’s not pity nor annoyance you see in his eyes, which you had been expecting, but instead they are brimming with concern.

“Hey darling.” His honey voice is slow and smooth, soothing the jittery anxiety ricocheting through your mind and chest. “Not feeling too good?” It’s a rhetorical question, but you shake your head anyway, clutching the duvet closer to your chin. Steve pulls his shirt over his head, rounds the bed and climbs in next to you.

“C’mere.” His strong arms envelop you and pull you into his strong chest, the weight of them on your back and his musky scent, which now consumes your senses, is the secure reassurance you’ve been needing all week that you’re not completely alone in this brutal world.

He doesn’t ask what’s the matter with you, doesn’t ask why you’ve barely answered his messages all week, why your home is a complete mess or why you’re laying in the dark at noon on a weekend. He doesn’t make you justify your change in behaviour, why you kept him at arm's length, doesn’t scold you for your absence as other people have done in the past. Instead, he kisses your forehead, whispers that you’re safe with him as he gently rubs his hand up and down your back.

He could have easily chastised you for withdrawing into yourself and not seeking help, could have pointed out the state your home was in, or mentioned that you smelled in need of a shower, but he does none of that. Rather, he tells you over and over again that you’re loved, ingraining the notion in your mind so that you won’t ever forget, placing kisses over every inch of your face he can reach while still holding your body close.

The sound of his beating heart lulls you to a peaceful sleep, feeling safe and treasured, and for the first time this week like you don’t have to carry the weight of expectation and hollow desolation all on your own.

* * *

When you wake, the warmth provided by your sturdy boyfriend is missing. Distress fills your chest for a moment, thinking perhaps Steve coming to soothe you to sleep was a figment of your imagination, until you hear the faint sound of movement from the main living area.

With an effort you believe rivals running an entire marathon, you push the sheets off yourself, heave yourself out of bed and trudge into your kitchen, but not before noticing that the clothes that were strewn over your bedroom floor this morning were no longer there.

Once your eyes adjust to the light you notice Steve hunched over your sink, elbows deep in soapy water doing your dishes. Part of you is thankful, you’ve been needing to do them all week and just hadn’t found the energy or motivation. But another part of you, deep in your chest, feels ashamed - you have to rely on your boyfriend, who has a hectic enough life of his own, to do something as simple as washing your dishes. How pathetic.

“Steve, I can do them.” You declare, lumbering over to the counter, feeling somewhat relieved to see there’s only half the number of dirty pots and pans as was there when you left them last night.

“It’s okay darling, I’ve already got my hands wet…”

“I don’t want you doing my dishes for me, Steven.” You don’t know why those particular words leave your mouth, because seeing the dishes you had failed to clean the last few days finally have the grime scrubbed off them alleviates some of the hefty gravity pushing you chest so tight you almost can’t breathe. But it also makes you feel incapable, worthless and weak.

You’re not sure what quality it is in your voice that indicates it, but Steve immediately removes his hands from the bubbly water, dries them quickly on the back of his pants and pulls you into his chest just as tears you didn’t realise were coming start silently streaming down your cheeks.

“Shhh, it’s okay, deep breaths for me baby.” His large hands rub soothing circles around your back as your tears dampen his shirt. You try your best to follow his instruction, slowly take deep breaths and calm the flow of untameable misery pouring out the corners of your eyes, but your throat starts constricting and each new tear running down your cheeks evokes two more.

You just want it to end. You want to be able to function like a regular human being without exhausting all of your energy reserves by simply getting out of bed.

You just want to be normal. Be someone Steve can be proud to call his girl. Not someone who struggles to do the simplest of tasks.

When Steve senses that your flood of emotions isn’t subsiding, he shuffles with you in his arms towards your bathroom, whispering that the warm water of your shower will help refresh you.

He helps lift you onto your bathroom countertop, kissing away the stray tears on your cheeks before turning on the shower. While he tests the temperature of the water with one hand, his other maintains hold on yours - even just the connection to him helps in your attempts to calm yourself down. He’s here for you, and he isn’t going anywhere.

When the temperature is just how you like it, Steve helps you strip off your clothes and directs you under the stream. You let the water wash over your face, taking some of your worries with them, as Steve steps in behind you.

You can’t tell the difference between your own teardrops and drizzle of the shower as you look up at your boyfriend, grateful for the care and tenderness he’s shown you while you’re at your lowest. No one else has stuck around when they’ve seen you like this, but in this moment you feel nothing but pure love.

You place a gentle kiss to a scar on his bare chest and Steve kisses your forehead in return - a silent message to thank him for being there for you, and him to acknowledge that though you’re unable to voice your gratitude at the present moment, he understands it’s there.

Once Steve washes your hair, knowing the steps of your routine perfectly, and the rest of your body, you step out of the shower feeling like the load you’ve been carrying for the past few weeks has been washed off your back.

Steve smiles as he pulls his own shirt over your head, kissing your nose once your head pops through the hole. Now your tears have settled, you can appreciate the affection overflowing in his baby blues, fondness you don’t believe you deserve, but cherish nonetheless.

Forgetting all about the dirty dishes in the cold, soapy sink, Steve directs you back to your bedroom, climbing in after you and pulling you once again into his strapping chest.

“Darling, you don’t have to carry this burden alone. I’m here for you, and I love you, you don’t ever have to face this by yourself again.” Steve speaks softly into your hairline, the intent and conviction in his voice enough to drive you to tears again.

“But it’s not like I have that much on my plate, I should be able to do simple things like housework. I just… I just can’t. I can’t explain it, my brain just doesn’t allow me to.”

Steve pulls away from you slightly so he has an angle to look at you directly in the eye. It looks like it physically pains him to see you struggling so much.

“My love, you are the strongest person I have ever met. I am so proud of you everyday that you are here with me, that you keep battling your own mind. You’re my fighter, my best girl, and I’m here to help you through this difficult patch. For better or worse. In sickness and in health, I love you.” He punctuates his declaration with a sweet kiss, reinforcing his words.

“We’re not married Stevie.” You point out, but he simply smirks at you.

“Not yet.”

Before Steve Rogers you believed love was tumultuous and torture, that it was meant to tear you in half, because you cared about the other person so ardently it left you bloodied and bruised. But Steve proved to you that wasn’t love - love isn’t supposed to feel like you’re going to war, instead it’s comfort, it’s a reassuring embrace of someone who has seen your battle scars and tells you it’s time to rest.

Love is solace.

And Steve Rogers is certainly your solace.

Stolen Dairy

Word Count: 370

Summary: Bucky doesn’t respect the rules of a communal kitchen.

Warning: Language and a messy kitchen

A/N: This is what happens when @aubzylynn sends me links to help me overcome writer’s block.

Steve hurried into the kitchen that morning, following the sound of yelling and breaking dishes. He was torn between surprise and resignation at the sight that greeted him.

There was broken glass on the floor, remnants of some poor cup or bowl that had gotten stuck in the crossfire. The blender was tipped on its side, a half-blended smoothie spilling out across the counter and dripping onto the floor. Benny Goodman’s “Sing, Sing, Sing” was blaring from the stereo, adding a decidedly ridiculous air of dramatics to the scene playing out in the kitchen. You were perched on your knees on top of the kitchen island whacking Bucky with a wet dish rag which snapped with a painful sound every time it made contact. Bucky had his metal arm raised defensively in front of his face while he chucked pieces of frozen fruit at you with the other.

“Children. I’m living with children,” Steve sighed, hooking his arm around your waist and dragging you off the counter.

“Steve, put me down! No, listen, he deserves it this time!” you whined, struggling to escape his hold on you or at least to put your feet on the ground.

“I didn’t even do anything! I was just trying to make a smoothie, and she came in and started going psycho!” Bucky protested.

“That son of a bitch stole my yogurt!” you yelled, and Steve was forced to devote both arms to holding you as you continued to try to wiggle free.

“How was I supposed to know it was yours? We share a kitchen! I wasn’t aware your dairy was off limits!”

“Alright,” Steve cut in, tossing you lightly onto the couch as you shrieked in protest. He placed a firm hand on your shoulder to keep you from rising. “Buck, go buy her more yogurt.”

“What!?”

“You know how ridiculous she is about food. You either go buy her more, or she’s just going to keep hitting you,” Steve sighed tiredly

“This is bullshit!”

“What’s bullshit is you used all my yogurt to try to make your freaky smoothie! You can’t put plums in a smoothie, idiot! It doesn’t work!”

“You’re the worst.”

“You’re the worst.”

“I hate both of you.”

Tags: @aubzylynn @stephie-rowena

Eddie wake up, I don't like this, Eddie wake up

I loved your blurb on Chris x Reader with ADHD! Can you do one with the reader having bipolar disorder?

You bet-

Chris x partner with Bipolar Disorder:

It’s not an easy decision for you to tell him you have bipolar disorder, but he reacts calmly and acceptingly, easing your nerves.

First and foremost after that, he does a lot of research -- putting effort into understanding manic episodes, depressive episodes, triggers, etc.

He makes you feel comfortable enough where you can discuss with him indications of mood shifts and the coping skills you practice.

If he feels like you’re reluctant to talk to him, he makes sure to remind you he’s always there for you.

“You could never be a burden to me, sweetheart.”

Knowing stress is a common trigger, he respects when you want some time alone to meditate or do yoga, or however you practice relaxation.

Or you have a list of favorite movies that are sure to take your mind off of everything for awhile, and he never says no to a good movie.

He’s more than happy to exercise with you, or take a walk with you when you feel the need to be a little more active.

He surprises you with your favorite flowers, knowing the look and smell appeals to your senses in a way that will lift your mood.

Understanding there are times you feel too depressed to move, or other times you just need to cry, he’s right there to listen or to hold you and stroke your hair. 

He gives you hand and foot massages when you want.

Since eating well helps your mood, one of your favorite things to do together is search for healthy recipes and cook meals together.

He doesn’t push you when you feel like you need to be alone though, sometimes leaving him to meet with family and friends by himself.

“It’s not you, I swear. I just don’t have the energy.”

“Hey, no. I know. I don’t want you to feel bad.”

When you’re having trouble falling asleep, he makes sure he’s not on his phone or laptop in bed.

He runs a bath for you using your favorite scents and playing slow music to help you relax.

You relish how perfectly you seem to fit at his side, head on his chest, his arms wrapped protectively around you.

If he wakes up before you, he makes sure not to disturb you, not wanting to mess up your routine.

Sometimes he leaves notes on your nightstand for you to wake up to.

“Good morning, beautiful. I have breakfast for you when you’re ready.”

He makes sure to never claim he knows exactly what you’re experiencing.

“I may not be able to understand exactly how you feel, but I care so much about you and want to support you in any way I can.”

~~~

a/n: I’m absolutely not an expert on bipolar disorder. I just did a lot of reading before writing this. If anything seems off, let me know and I’ll be happy to rewrite or take it out.