#steve has to think for both of you

[eddiesghxst]

dumbass steve harrington and his even dumber girlfriend🤞

you’re two peas in a pod, thick as thieves, literally the epitome of dumb and dumber. like sit and blink and laugh in confusion when you don’t understand the joke that the gang is laughing about and you whisper on the side to each other like “did u get the joke?” “no i’m just laughing to fit in.” “okay me too.”

[morganbritton132]

Wayne to Eddie: You know that I know you’re seeing that Harrington boy?

Eddie: Yeah, I wasn’t hiding it

Wayne: Right, and ya know I love ya no matter what. I don’t care who you’re dating.

Eddie: Yeah?

Wayne: Tell your boy to stop climbing through my damn windows and use the door.

Eddie: Oh.

Eddie: Yeah, no. I can’t do that. Climbing through windows gets him really horny.

[broareweabouttoviberightnow]

"We need cash." Two, Soda, Steve, Dallas, Pony, 'n Johnny crowd the living room in a loose circle like mourners at a funeral. Between them, the shattered, stacked, 'n swept together corpse of what had once been their TV.

"We? Ain't my fault it's broken." Dallas kicks at a shard of glass 'n Pony narrows his eyes at him. "Blame it on the kid 'n call it a night."

"Hey!" Pony stomps a foot before he can catch himself, crosses his arms. "It wasn't me!"

Steve scoffs, rolls his eyes. Pony's face darkens murderously. "Was too."

"No, it was not! You were the one who fuckin' threw me!" Soda 'n Two's eyes ping pong back 'n fourth between the two of them.

"Did not! 'N if I did it was only 'cause you started the fight."

"Bullshit!" Pony's voice hits a shrill high note 'n Steve smirks at him, self-satisfied. "I only started it 'cause you were fuckin' callin' me names you asshole."

"Well, I wouldn't have been callin' you names if you hadn't been actin' like a brat." Pony lets out an indignant wail 'n Soda has to fly across the group to snag him by the waist so he doesn't start right back up again.

"Ok, ok. Enough you two." Pony writhes around like a fish on a hook for another moment before Soda jabs him in the ribs 'n he howls but stops fightin'. "This isn't solvin' our problems."

"I don't see how this is an us problem." Dallas tries again, hooks an arm around Johnny's shoulder 'n pulls him close. "I just got here, Johnny wasn't involved, 'n neither was Two. Soda bites the bullet for not stoppin' 'em 'n Darry can string the idiots up as he so pleases. What's the problem?"

Steve 'n Pony both turn on him, united for the first time that afternoon, fingers pointed 'n accusin'. "'Cause Two was bettin' on us-"

"Hey! Look, all's fair 'n love 'n war or whatever they say. Nobody asked ya to start rumblin' in the livin' room of all places."

"Yeah, 'n Darry'll love to hear that." Steve grabs his hip, wags a finger in a pretty damn passin' imitation of Darry. "Two-Bit Mathews you're how old now? Glory God almighty when are you gonna get any sense- OW!" Steve hollers at the comic Two's rolled up 'n thumped him over the head with.

"Ok, Ok fine. But I wasn't fuckin' bettin' against myself!" Two glares pointedly at Soda who rocks back 'n forth on his heels, suddenly findin' the floor real interestin'.

"Soda!" Steve stops nursin' his head to glare at Soda with wide eyes.

"Hey! Look! I'm sorry!" He blinks, tries his best tip-earnin' grin. "It was all on you, Stevie."

"SODA!" Pony whips on him quick as quick, quiverin' with as much indignance 'n outrage a fourteen-year-old can manage. Soda swallows back a snort, grabs Pony's face in his hands. "I'm sorry-"

"Well. Tough shit for y'all. But I don't see what this has to do with me or Johnny 'n I'm of the mind to beat it before Darry gets home 'n raises hell."

"Uh, Dal." Johnny clears his throat 'n tries to ignore the pointed stares of the rest of the gang hot on his face, runs a hand up the back of his neck, blows out a long breath. "IhadfiftycentsonPonyboy."

"Johnny!" Dallas drops him but doesn't sound half as annoyed as he does impressed.

"Well at least someone was in my corner-" Pony shoots Soda an aggravated glance 'n Soda throws his hands up placatingly.

"Yeah, speakin' of which." Two whips his hand out, palm up, 'n makes a grabbin' motion. Both Soda 'n Johnny huff but reach in their pockets 'n pull out quarters, dumpin' into Two's waitin' hands. He hoots his laughter 'n shoves the dollars' worth of change into his pants.

"Wait, who were you bettin' on Two?" Steve crosses his arms at the same time Pony plunks his hands on his hips, both glarin' accusingly.

"Me? I wasn't playin' for neither of ya! I bet y'all were gonna break somethin'!" Two cracks himself up, howlin'. It doesn't last for long 'n Pony 'n Steve turn succinctly on him, draggin' him down to the floor 'n landin' jabs wherever they can reach.

"Good lord. Well, y'all have fun with that one. I'm peelin' outta here."

"Oh no you don't." Soda catches one hand deftly in the collar of Dallas' jacket as he turns to leave, hefts him back. "You even think about wormin' outta this I'll tell Darry about that time you smoked all that pot 'n threw up 'n I had to carry a bowl a soup down to Buck's for your scrawny ass."

"Yeah, or that time you got picked up for shopliftin' 'n when the cops called I picked up the phone 'n never told Dar." Steve pauses in his onslaught of Two-Bit to throw his hat in the ring. The moment he's not focused Two wriggles out, flips him easily onto his back.

"Or that one time with Tim-"

"OK. Goddamn! No wonder Darry's goin' grey. Y'all are enough to send a man to an early grave." Dallas scowls 'n throw his hands up, shakin' Soda off. "So what now?"

"Now we need cash." Two says plaintively 'n they all stare down at the wreckage again.

"Ok. Thanks, genius." Steve rolls his eyes, clambers back to his feet, offers Pony his hand 'n hauls him up. "What are we lookin' at here? Like what? Twenty bucks?"

"Twenty bucks? Steve, what world do you live on where a TV is twenty goddamn bucks?" Dallas toes at the the box 'n it sparks. "Jesus Christ, none of you unplugged it? Hurry up 'n yank the plug out before we gotta by Dar a new house too."

Both Soda 'n Johnny dive for the cord 'n Johnny pulls up at the last second so they don't crack their heads together.

"So what, like fifty?" Pony 'n Soda exchange a glance, avert their eyes.

"Uh, try more like eighty, man." Soda plops down on his ass, looks desolately at the hunk of plastic 'n glass again.

"EIGHTY? Guys. We're dead. More than dead. Dar's gonna kill us, bury us, 'n then dig us back up again." Steve chews at his thumbnail, paces quick back 'n forth.

"Naw, Steve. Be realistic." Two grins, stuffs his hands into his pockets. "He'd never go through all that work for us. I think just killin' us the first time around'll do it."

Pony groans, presses both his palms into his eyes 'n collapses back into the armchair. "Not funny, Two."

"Aw, not even a lil-" He's cut off by the throw pillow Steve beams at his head, hittin' him square in the face.

"Man focus. We got cash, right?" Dallas refocuses the room, looks at them each in turn. The silence is answer enough, the celin', floor, 'n walls becomin' real fascinatin'. "Man, y'all've got to be jokin'. Steve, don't you have some money from the DX or your da put away?"

"Uh, well, no. Not really. Kinda, uh, lost it. All." He twiddles the bottom of his vest between his fingers, refuses to look up.

"Whatta ya mean lost it?"

"Look you lose one goddamn drag 'n suddenly everyone's crawlin' up your ass! How was I supposed to know that? 'N hey, what about you, Two? I don't hear you offerin' anythin' up."

"Ha! What money? I didn't have anythin' to start with don't look at me. Ask Soda, he's employed."

Soda throws his hands up guiltily. "Don't look over here. I got six bucks to my good name."

"Yeah, good 'n broke-" Soda pulls a face 'n kicks Dallas hard in the shin before he can duck outta the way.

"Where'd your paycheck go, Soda?" Johnny prods at him with his foot 'n Soda playfully catches it, yanks at him.

"Hey, I keep the lights on in this place!"

"And the rest of it?" Johnny pulls back 'n, when he realizes Soda ain't lettin' up, reaches down to jab at the ticklish spot on Soda's ribs.

"What? A man can't be afforded a lil' fun?" Soda yowls 'n drops his foot, wrigglin' backwards to get away. "How was I supposed to know a guitar was twenty-five bucks?"

"Soda!" Pony's jaw drops open. "You can't even play!"

"Hey! Yet! Gimme some credit! Plus I don't wanna hear anythin' from mister no job over there." Soda crosses his arms dramatically but he's grinnin' the whole way 'n all of them know he doesn't mean it.

"That ain't fair! Darry won't let me get a job. 'Course I don't got no goddamn money. Look at Dal. He's got a job!"

"First of all, I didn't even break the fuckin' TV. Second of all, how much money I got is none of your damn business." Dallas scowls, turns his nose up. Steve groans, drops down to the couch with his head in his hands.

"God so we're all broke."

"Hey-!"

"Shut up, Dal." Two cuts him off 'n Dallas' shifts his glare, damn near murderous. "Johnny Cakes?" He tries, weakly hopeful.

"Uh, I got three bucks." Soda quirks an eyebrow up 'n Johnny plops his hands on his hips.

"Where did you-"

"Ya gonna ask questions or are ya gonna take it?" Soda studies him for a moment, arms crossed still 'n doin' a cartoonish impression of a fussin' hen.

"Boys, we got a real hood among us here today." He hoots 'n Johnny kicks him in the hip, both of them still howlin'. "So that brings us up to, what?"

"Uh, nine bucks. Ten if someone can wrestle that change outta Two's pocket." Pony leans forward, elbows on his knees, 'n sizes Two up like he stood even a single chance.

"Man. I want lillies at my funeral. Can I put that out there? Should we do last rites now or-"

"Aw, hush up, Steve. Look, we just gotta scrape together a little money before Dar gets back. We can get, uh, what was it?" Soda frowns, counts absently on his fingers.

"Seventy more bucks." Pony dead pans 'n Soda's self-assured smile wavers a bit.

"C'mon, that's nothin'! We just gotta put our heads together." Soda climbs to his feet, rubs his hands together in thought. "How do we get our hands on some quick cash?"

Dallas 'n Two open their mouths 'n Soda throws out an accusin' finger to each of them. "'N nobody's doin' nothin' illegal 'cause if Dar has to pick one of us from the station before he comes home to no TV he's gonna start inventin' cruel 'n unusual punishments, y'hear?"

Dallas rolls his eyes 'n mutters 'n Two nods absently in agreement but they both don't offer any other ideas. "Anythin' else?"

"Uh, pawn shop?" Pony offers.

"Yeah, great idea, Pone. Anyone have any expensive jewelry they've been keepin' back?" Steve drawls, dryly, apparently resigned to his fate.

"Well, it ain't mine but I got, uh, a Singer we could sell." Dallas leans back in the doorway, waits for the onslaught of questions. They don't disappoint.

"A Singer? Dal, you've been watchin' me hafta hand hem 'n you had a Singer?" Soda howls, goes to kick him in the shin again but Dallas is prepared this time 'n dodges it.

"Where the hell did you get a Singer-?"

"Why-?"

"Look! It was Sylvie's, right? When I kicked her out she didn't get the chance to take it or nothin'. It ain't mine." He throws his hands up defensively, eyes Soda still standin' close enough to wallop him if he decided to. Soda glares back like he's still makin' up his mind about goin' for round two.

"Aw, man. We can't pawn off Sylvie's stuff." Johnny backs outta the way as Soda decides to give it another go 'n jabs at Dallas. "She mighta been a lil' mean but she don't deserve to have her shit sold off."

"The bitch- Soda get offa me- two-timed me? Remember?" Dallas knocks Soda's hands deftly away 'n Soda sneaks in on more solid kick before retreatin'.

"Oh, yeah." Johnny rocks back 'n forth on his heels, still clearly uncomfortable with the whole idea.

"Maybe Soda 'n Steve could pick up some extra shifts for a bit?" Pony tries again, clearly not as willin' as Steve to lie down 'n take his medicine.

"Yeah, another winner, Pone. 'N when Darry comes home to no TV tonight?" Steve scowls at him 'n Pony glares back, the two still dangerously close to another all-out scrap.

"Well, at least I'm comin' up with somethin'."

"Doesn't help if it's all stupid-"

"Alright you two, knock it off. We can't afford to have to buy anythin' else y'all broke 'cause y'all can't keep your traps shut." Two cuts in 'n they both round on him, glarin'.

"Look who's talkin'!" Steve mutters 'n Two grins 'n flips him off.

The laughter 'n bickerin' trail off, lapsin' into silence again. Each lookin' guiltily at the disaster, eyein' each other. "Well, uh, is anyone not above beggin'?" No one says anythin' 'n Two clicks his teeth, nods. "Yeah, didn't think so."

"Hey, guys." Six heads turn to look at Pony, suddenly ashen 'n lookin' past them up at the clock in the kitchen. "Is this a bad time to tell y'all Dar told me to tell y'all he'd be home early this afternoon?"

"Pony." Steve flies to his feet, grabs Pony by his shoulders. "How early?"

Somehow, Pony manages to pale even further. "Uh. In like. An hour?"

As if it had heard, the TV hisses, flashes, lets out one final death rattle 'n falls silent so it's just the seven of them, eyein' each other like men at the gallows.

"Dallas?" Johnny gives himself a shake, grabs his jacket from the back of the sofa.

"Yeah, man?"

"Let's get your girlfriend's stuff."

[jadewritesficshere]

Grey

Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Synopsis: Steve gets a wake up call from yall's daughter

Contents: talks of aging, kids being kids, references to smut but nothing explicit

Steve groans as his consciousness comes to. Something is hitting his face. Someone. Repeatedly.

Steve squints his bleary eyes open as a hand smacks him in the jaw again. A small smile appears on his face even though his jaw stings from the impact. "Morning," Steve's voice is still thick with sleep as he turns to look into brown eyes barely peeking over the edge of the bed.

A quiet voice repeats back ,"Morning," to Steve before arms reach up over the edge of the bed to try and grasp something. Small hands grab the blanket and tug it off of him slightly as the child attempts to climb up. At two and half, Amelia Joy Harrington can barely see above the edge of her parents' bed, let alone get on it.

Steve hoists Amelia up and sits her on his stomach. Steve winces as Amelia scrambles, a stray foot hitting his thigh precariously close to his crotch. Arms are thrown around his neck in a hug as Amelia lays her head against her dad's chest.

Steve feels like his heart could burst out of his chest from the joy he is feeling. A hug from his baby? The best way to wake up in the morning. Who cares if his jaw is still stinging and probably red, his little girl loves him.

Steve sighs in contentment. Steve holds his daughter close until she starts to fidget and wiggle. Amelia sits up and throws her hands in the air. "Happy Birthday!" She whispers excitedly, except she has no concept of how quiet a whisper should actually be and says it in a much too loud voice.

"What?" Steve asks, hand hovering near Amelia's side in case she slips. Amelia's eyebrows furrow as she pouts at him, a look that is an exact copy of you. Her arms slowly lower as she stares at Steve. "Happy Birthday. You old." Amelia pouts at him.

Steve blinks at Amelia in confusion but nods his head. First off, rude, he isn't that old. Steve isn't sure where she gets her unfiltered, blunt commentary (it absolutely isn't him). Second, it absolutely isn't his birthday. Not even close.

"Why uh...why is it my birthday?" Steve asks, unsure if Amelia fully understands the concept. Not sure if he can explain the idea of a birthday to a two (and a half) year old. "Grey." Amelia declares giving Steve whiplash. Before Steve can speak, Amelia points at the comforter," Blue." Steve smiles," Yes, blue."

Amelia points to her shirt," Green." Steve nods. Amelia taps under Steve's eye, lashes brushing against her finger causing him to close it. Steve hopes she doesn't attempt to actually poke his eye.

"Brown." Amelia declares. "Thats right." Steve grins, his girl is so smart. Amelia points to his temple," Grey." "That's ri- what?! No!" Steve's mouth drops open as Amelia giggles. "Uncle Dustbin says grey is old. Birthday makes old. Happy Birthday!"

The creak of the loose floorboard in the hall notifies Steve of your approach. You peek into the doorway of the room, seeing your two favorite people. One looking aghast and the other giggling at her father's reaction.

"What's going on in here?" You ask, leaning against the doorway. "Grey. Birthday." Amelia announces, like it explains everything. And it does in her little mind.

You hum in response, looking at your husband who seems lost for words. Amelia slides off of Steve and off the bed, Steve guiding her so her feet land on the ground absent-mindedly. He would never let her fall or get hurt. Or you.

Amelia half walks half dances in your direction. A prance in her step, she stops in front of you and grabs your hands. "It's daddy's birthday," She says before headbutting your leg. You chuckle and pat her head as she dances out of the room, in her own little world.

"You lying to my kid again?" You ask once Amelia is gone. Steve sputters as he sits up," I did not- our kid- did not lie." "Uh-huh, sure," you say sarcastically. Steve rolls his eyes at you as he gets up out of bed.

Steve stretches as he rocks on his feet, back cracking, before strolling over to you. "Good morning," Steve mumbles, hand landing on your hip. You hum back as he leans in and kisses you. Soft. Slow. Sweet. Leaving you longing for more as he pulls back.

"Love you," Steve says, fingers running along the waistband of your pants. "I love you too," you want to melt into him. Curl up in his arms and stay in this moment. Let the love and adoration fill the air around you.

"Do I look old?" Steve is the first to break the silence. Your brow furrows in confusion," huh?" "Amelia she," Steve huffs out a laugh," said I have grey hair." You chuckle as you bring a hand up, fingers threading through his hair," You have some but its nice." "Its nice huh?" "Makes you look distinguished. Handsome." You bite your lip and look up at him.

Steve knows that look. Knows it well. It's the look you gave him the first time you moved past just making out. The same look you gave him on your first anniversary. The same look you wore on your wedding night. The same look you gave before Amelia was conceived.

Steve can't help the smirk that spreads across his face. If getting old gives him that look, well, he won't complain.

"What about me?" You ask, batting your lashes. "Beautiful," Steve kisses your cheek," Gorgeous," he kisses the corner of your lips. He continues to alternate between kissing all over your face and praising you.

"My love," Steve whispers before kissing you softly on the lips. You sigh into the kiss, one hand tangling in his hair, the other trying to pull him closer.

A loud crash from the living room has you two pulling back from the sweet moment you stole. "What was that?" You call down the hall. "Nothing!" Amelia yells back, making you sigh but smile. Steve can't help but grin too. His life was a little hectic dealing with a rambunctious child, but he wouldn't trade it for the world. And he thinks, if life is like this, he can manage getting old with you. He wouldn't want it any other way.

[reineyday]

why do they keep making bucky a government-manipulated pawn 😭 from the american military to hydra to whatever weirdass public relations campaign valentina is pushing the thunderbolts through (see: end credit graphics & the cereal campaign), like he had his brief time on the run and his goats in wakanda but he's sucked back into a sketchy institution once again like what are they doing with him. sure the movie was fun, but every time i think about it i just end up head in hands.

[megarhyssa-sp]

So how did Bill become a grandpa?

@the-barefoot-hatter

Steve baby-trapped his high school sweetheart when they were seniors cause he was afraid she was gonna dump him once they graduated (cringe) (not cool) but she still ended up divorcing him later, anyway (fail) (nobody saw it coming)

[sp0o0kylights]

obsessed with your latest steddie au! steve’s relationship with his parents is so emotionally abusive and manipulative and my heart is breaking that nobody seems to recognise that

Thank you!!

I really wanted to focus on how Steve's parents are abusive in a way that is a lot harder to clock.

They're not out there screaming and kicking him out of the house. These people want you to like them, and they lie like they breath.

These are the adults who downplay serious issues, who make you doubt yourself, who smooth things over or even apologize on your behalf as a way to control and isolate you.

If everyone thinks you're terrible, and your amazing, doting, angelic parents are once again swooping in to save you, then your escape routes close up rapidly--which is of course, the whole point. They want their victims to rely on them and them alone.

For a lot of the Party, that's just not an evil they've encountered yet.

Throw in the fact that Steve does in fact, have a head injury, and things get muddy FAST.

It makes for delicious, angst-ridden scenarios and I am delighted everyone's happy to come along for the ride.

[jasontoddsmommyissues]

I don’t understand why so many people in the fandom seem to believe that Eddie being attracted to Chrissy and Eddie being attracted to Steve are mutually exclusive. I’m taking the truly enlightened position that Eddie is bisexual as fuck and attracted to both of them.

[caterpillarinacave]

Have I ever mentioned how much I love the NATM1 movie posters? I’m not sure why but the lighting, the warmth, all of the exhibits around it’s so 2000s. It’s so fun. It’s so visually appealing. Feels like childhood. Phenomenal.

[phoenixkaptain]

Watching older Marvel movies is like-

These actors are so good, the characters come to life, the costumes look just like the comics and Iron Man 1 makes reference to Tony’s tin can suit and Captain America makes reference to his original shield shape and there may never be a better portrayal of Thor in the entirety of my lifetime. It’s like they stepped right out of the comics, the music is so good, the quips are so good, the foreshadowing of the Avengers helping each other learn and grow and heal is set up wonderfully and-

And then you think about where it ultimately went and it’s like. What?

Where’s the characters who are just like their comic counterparts? The fuck happened to Peter Parker? Why did the foreshadowing of Steve and Tony’s relationship improving lead abso-fucking-lutely nowhere? Where the fuck did romance between Hulk and Black Widow come from? What the fuck happened to Peter Parker??

Like, it was so good, it was going so well. The Avengers from the comics were put into live-action so perfectly, and then it crashed and burned. It makes me legitimately sad in some ways, because it was! So! Good! What happened? Why did they change everything? I mean, I know Civil War happened because of Batman v. Superman, but why did they decide to go that route? Some people liked Batman and Superman fighting in the comics, but did anybody like the comic Civil War???

I just don’t understand. Why make Civil War into a movie? Why on God’s green Earth would anybody suggest making a movie out of one of the least liked comic arcs of all fucking time??? And why did they change the arc in the most baffling ways possible??? What?? Were?? They??? Thinking??? Were they even thinking???? Whoever came up with this, I’m so sorry, but I think you should work on soap operas instead of comic adaptations.

[pinoruno]

Just saying I love and appreciate your comments about the woobification of the white boy in copaganda! That’s a whole other layer I didn’t get to because fandom racism is soooooo prevalent in everything that I would need several pages and hours to let my screams out. Your addition was very needed!

yeah that’s so real 😭😭😭 psych is one of the most concentrated case studies i’ve ever seen where not only is the white man cop singled out over the ensemble of other cops but he’s ALSO singled out over BOTH OF THE ACTUAL LEADS (one of whom is a black man, the other of whose character is white but himself is both white and hispanic) who are NOT COPS. like okay you’re just showing your whole ass then

[biillys]

was rereading a doc i had (titled christmas!!!!!!!!!) of neil inviting billy back home for christmas after not speaking with him for years cos billy told him he was fucking a dude in a going steady kinda way, but then neil had some health scares (cancer) and susan missed the kids, so next thing u know, neil's begrudgingly on the phone, gritting out a 'we're having christmas day here. if u care. sure. ur fag boyfriend can come too.' and then was like. well what happens BEFORE all that.

and for some reason my brain decided it was gonna be billysteeve but make it shitty. anyway.

steve cheating on billy becos i can. and i love to give billy attention in the form of everyone else.

anyway. warning for cheating and steve//nancy ??? is that a warning?

billy hears them before he sees them, but still can’t stop himself from walking up the stairs and pushing their bedroom door open anyway.

meets the sight of nancy fucking wheeler’s bare back sitting upright on his bed, steve's voice carrying from somewhere underneath her, and turns around and walks straight back out, slamming every single door he touches behind him. 

loses himself at the bar two blocks over before somehow carol’s manhandling him into an uber, her getting in after him, then loses the rest of the night to hers and tommy’s couch, only vaguely aware of where he is. 

he wakes up to a kick to the thigh, then a jab to the ribs.

grabbing the pillow from under his head, he shoves it on top and groans.

“wake up, asshole. it’s 2pm.”

“fuck you,” he mumbles, gripping the pillow tight when carol tries to pull it away.

“fuck you too for waking me up at 1:36am and making me get out of bed. you know how much work your drunk ass is?” carol bitches, resorting to sitting in him and tugging at his hair, before turning gentle, running her fingers through it instead.

billy relaxes into her touch for a moment before her words catch up with him and he remembers what happened the night before, and after his mind flashes him an image of nancy wheeler riding his fiancé’s dick, he shoves himself up and stumbles to the bathroom. 

finds himself on his knees and spewing into the toilet bowl, fighting for his fucking life just to get a breath.

“you wanna talk about it?” carol asks from the doorway, leaning against the frame.

billy spits in the toilet bowl. “not fucking really.”

“steve called,” she says airily, smirking at him when he snaps his head up, only to groan from the way it makes his stomach spin.

billy glares at her, his insides slowly settling. 

out of everyone, carol’s probably the one who doesn’t care for steve’s shit the most. billy wishes she could teach him how to do it. 

wishes he could tell her.

“yeah?” he croaks, pushing himself up to standing so he can brush his teeth. “what’d he want?”

“just wanted to see where you were,” she replies casually, all the power in her fucking hands.

billy brushes his teeth, spits, gargles some fresh water, then spits again, before turning around to face her, his breath squeaky clean. “and what’d you tell him?”

carol shrugs. “said i hadn’t heard from you.”

billy feels his inner growing panic start to recede. at least steve won’t look for him here.

“tommy texted though, said steve turned up at eddie’s place looking for you.”

she’s watching him closely, looking for any give. any weakness. she’s smart like that. 

billy usually loves it about her. right now, though, she can fuck right off.

“yeah, well,” he sighs, done with this entire mess, “he can keep looking.”

she smirks at him again before reaching a hand out and tugging him over, pulling him out of the bathroom. “c’mon, i stocked up on alcohol on sunday. whatever happened, let’s get wasted.”

billy stays at carol’s and tommy’s for two more nights. 

tommy comes home the second day, looking at them both on the couch, completely faded and fucked up; billy three sheets to the wind, carol at least slightly steadier than him on her feet; with worry written all over his face, but he’s a good sport about it and instead of asking questions, he picks up a joint and joins in, lacing his fingers with carol’s when he comes over to sit beside her.

by the time billy makes it home three days later, he’s mostly got his shit in check.

he makes it through the front door, having spotted steve's car in the driveway, and prepares himself for whatever’s about to happen.

gets through the kitchen next, then past the living room, walks up the stairs again, and braces himself.

he finds steve sitting on their bed, the sheets and pillows all done up and neat, like he went to the effort to wash it and make it, but billy’s not actually that stupid or naive, and steve’s never been able to work their stupid fucking washing machine, no matter how many times billy’s told him which dials to turn and what buttons to press. guesses he’s just covering up the evidence.

billy doesn’t say anything. 

steve seems speechless.

billy waits. wants to see where he takes this. 

if he’s even gonna apologise or beg for forgiveness.

if he’s gonna end it.

“listen…” steve starts, and just that one word alone has reality hitting billy like a fist to the face.

whatever he hoped would come of this, if it ever came to a head–whatever fucking unrealistic dreams he had of steve tripping over himself to patch things up, running back to him–disappear before his eyes, and he realises steve’s never gonna give a shit about him enough to care. 

billy’s never gonna be worth it.

he looks at him sitting on the bed, looking like he’s barely slept, except he knows it’s not guilt that’s kept him awake but instead his fucking decade long insomnia, childhood and teenagehood trauma that billy has no hope of fixing taking it's toll, and he can see clearly how this is gonna play out. 

there’s gonna be no i’m sorry’s, no i’ll do better’s; nothing’s gonna fucking change. 

steve’s just gonna excuse his shit life choices, like he always does, and billy’s either gonna accept it and live with it, or he’s gonna be alone, and everyone in the entire goddamn world is gonna know he can’t keep someone interested. that he’s not worth loving. 

“it was just…a one time thing,” steve bullshits, looking at him the same way he always looks at him. like he’s a million miles away. “and i promise, it won’t happen again.”

billy swallows. feels like he’s just swallowed acid and his insides are swimming with it.

“so this only happened the once?” billy checks, his voice flat. he already knows the answer. he’s seen the text messages. has read the business trip itineraries. 

“yeah,” steve promises–lies–eyes so fucking big and brown. 

billy used to love them. 

“yeah, it was only one time, billy. i swear.”

billy lets the few feelings he had left go numb. finds it in his muscle memory to nod his head then turns around and walks straight back out. 

“i need to sort my head out. gonna crash somewhere for a few days.”

steve catches up to him quickly, grabbing him by the arm.

billy flinches.

steve barely notices. 

“you’re coming back, right?” he asks, and this is the most emotion billy’s seen from him in months. since that first year they dated, back in high school, probably. he’s spent just over three years of his life with him and can’t remember the last time steve actually looked at him. “i have a business trip on friday, so you’re gonna like, come back and feed the cat, right?”

billy’s gonna choke. “you have a business trip on friday?”

steve looks cagey. “well, yeah? i still have to work, billy.”

billy’s pretty sure he’s gonna punch something. he clenches his hands into fists instead, letting his nails dig in until he fucking bleeds.

“yeah, steve,” he says, voice as even as he can get it. ”i’m coming back. how about–you leave friday 2pm, and i’ll come back friday 2:05pm, and i’ll feed your damn cat.”

steve nods at him, looking relieved, like the cat he convinced billy into letting him get was his biggest concern about today, and not their entire fucking relationship.

steve comes back on a tuesday.

“how was your trip?” billy asks, leaning against the kitchen counter, watching steve’s every move.

steve shrugs, leaning down to stroke his cat’s back. “fine.”

billy clenches his jaw. nods to himself and pushes himself off the counter, making his way out the back to lounge on one of the backyard chairs, cracking open a beer. 

thinks about walking out. 

stays.

maybe his dad was right, all those times he blamed him for everything in their life going wrong. for his mom leaving. for fucking everything up. 

billy knows, now.

he takes a sip of his beer and thinks, this is as good as it’s ever gonna get.

they’ve been together for 3 years and 4 months when eddie and tommy corner him in an alleyway before a show, looking at him with guilt written all over their faces.

“we need to talk to you, man,” tommy says quietly, looking around and making sure they’re alone.

eddie’s face looks serious. billy feels his stomach drop. 

whatever they’ve got to say, billy doesn’t want to hear it. he’s hanging on by a fucking thread these days as it is.

“listen, man,” eddie steps in close, resting a hand on his shoulder, and billy can’t handle that right now. 

he shrugs him off. 

eddie takes it in his stride and lets his hand drop back to his side, but still stays standing where he is, bowing his head in close. 

billy doesn't know what they've got to say, but can feel it like a lead weight in his stomach already. whatever it is, it’s gonna be fucked, and billy straight up can't handle that right now. 

he thinks about pushing past them and walking away but knows it won’t work. knows he’s not getting out of this little heart-to-heart, no matter what move he pulls. 

raises his stare to meet them both head on and straightens out his shoulders. 

waits for them to spit out whatever it is that they’ve got to say and get it over with.

“it’s about steve,” tommy steps in, looking between them both, hesitating when he looks at him.

shakily pulling out a lighter and a cigarette, billy lights up, shoving the stick in his mouth and taking a deep inhale. “what about steve?” he says, cigarette dangling from his lips.

doesn't think about the million and one different things it could be from that sentence alone, ‘cause if he does, he knows whatever grip he’s got on his life right now will shatter. 

eddie takes a deep breath, and billy clocks the way his face is full of regret. 

“he’s cheating on you, man,” he says quietly.

billy’s ears start ringing. feels his fingertips and toes go numb, his blood run cold. 

no one was meant to know. 

he was meant to live in denial and settle for whatever steve could be bothered to give him, and no one was meant to fucking know that he wasn’t enough.

“what?” he says back numbly, his voice flat. 

can’t show emotion, ‘cause if he does, he’ll break.

“he’s seeing nancy,” tommy says, looking like he regrets every word. “we don’t know how long for, but we caught them together when we played that show in new york last week.”

“seriously, man, we just found out, and we fucking flipped on him, but he’s like, trying to fucking deny it, which–how. we literally caught them fucking–” eddie word vomits, looking at him like he’s waiting for him to fly off the handle.

billy can’t react. can feel the fragile hold he’s had on every single part of his life slowly start to unravel, like someone's pulled the string and let the ball of yarn roll along the floor, and knows he’s got minutes at best to pull himself together. to save face.

doesn’t know how to live in denial, though, when the people closest to him are trying to shove the truth in his face. 

his mind races in a million different directions as he tries to figure out how to play this. how to make it out the other side unscathed, without ripping out his heart and leaving himself a bloody open mess. 

can’t find a single path that doesn’t lead in that direction, or a variation of.

he takes another inhale of nicotine then exhales it out, preparing himself for what comes next. 

they’re gonna know. 

everyone’s gonna know. 

billy’s nothing worth staying for. there’ll always be someone better, someone worth risking it all for, even if for just a weekend, and it’ll never be him.

“you okay, man?” tommy checks, taking a step forward, seeming to realise he’s seconds away from falling apart.

billy sniffs and swipes at his nose, gathering every last bit of strength he can muster and pulls himself together. “fine,” he clips back, voice tight.

“you’re uh–you’re taking this surprisingly well,” eddie points out, and when billy looks at him, he sees the wheels turning in his head, then watches it click into place. 

eddie stares at him, his mouth dropped open slightly. “you knew.”

“it’s fine,” he says back automatically, ‘cause that’s what he’s been telling himself for months. for over a year. for almost two. 

it’s fucking fine.

“it’s not fucking fine, it’s fucking bullshit,” tommy cuts in, and he sounds pissed. 

billy doesn’t know what to make of it. tommy and steve have been best friends since diapers, long before he came on the scene, and if you don’t count their little high school fallout, they’ve been going strong for almost twenty years. 

billy can’t compete with that. 

“how in the world is it fine?” eddie adds as he gives him an disbelieving look, searching his face like he’s waiting for the punchline.

billy closes his eyes. knows in their own twisted way, they're doing this because they care, but it doesn't feel like fucking care right now. it feels like a fucking knife.

opening his eyes again and blinking away the tears, he thinks about how steve and eddie were friends first. how, technically, steve was the one who introduced them, both the guys having teamed up for some random shit billy doesn’t even remember just before he rolled into town, and when he sucked up his pride and went to make peace with steve after the shitshow that was his first week in hawkins, then asked where the best place to get green was around here, steve offered to lead the way, and less than 15 minutes later they were pulling up in front of munson’s trailer, and billy’s never really looked back.

realises only now how fucked it is that the only friends he’s made were actually steve’s first, and at the end of the day, he’s gonna lose them in the break up. 

billy’s been a part of their lives for barely 5 years. he’s got nothing on a lifetime of memories. definitely hasn’t earnt their loyalty.

his chest squeezes painfully and he struggles to take in a breath as he looks out in front of him and forces himself to face facts. 

this might be one of the last times he sees them. 

the bands probably over, billy’s definitely kicked out, and they're never gonna stay up for 34 hours straight because they want to finish recording just one more song again.

when he thinks about it, he probably won’t even miss steve that much when he leaves, but he doesn’t know how he’s gonna cope when he loses the guys. 

the band. 

the girls. 

shudders out a breath and tries not to fucking break down.

chrissy; who runs her hands through his hair whenever he lays his head on her lap, always just as drunk as he is and so goddamn happy to see him, and carol; who stays up ‘til 7am drinking with him and watching real housewives and fucking love island, and is the first person to call whenever billy sends out an sos.

shit, he’s gonna fucking cry.

he clenches his jaw and refuses to make eye contact. “show’s gonna start soon, we should get inside.”

“billy, steve’s fucking his ex,” eddie spells out, sounding pissed.

billy wishes he didn’t flinch.

tommy pushes himself front and center then, standing in front of eddie and getting right up in billy’s space.

resting his hands on billy’s shoulders, he forces eye contact.

“how long?” he asks quietly.

billy tries to look anywhere but straight ahead. feels his eyes watering, the tears he blinked away earlier coming back to the surface. can feel the weight of tommy’s hands on his shoulders grounding him, keeping him tethered.

“bill’s, man. how long?” eddie repeats, and billy’s gotta give him credit. he sounds calmer. gentler.

he sucks in a deep breath before throwing his cigarette on the ground, wishing he didn’t need to be handled gently right now as he stomps it out.

this is exactly why he wasn’t enough for steve.

“how long with nancy?” billy pushes past the lump in his throat, his voice catching and wishing the ground would swallow him whole, “or how long with all the other girls?”

“how many girls was he fucking?” eddie yells, giving up on being calm.

tommy elbows him but says nothing, giving billy space to talk.

billy can’t, so he shrugs. doesn’t know what’s more embarrassing now that he’s been interrogated about it. 

steve cheating, or him letting it happen.

“dude, what the fuck?” tommy asks after a moment, looking at him in disbelief.

the judgement gets too heavy to bear and he feels himself cracking. he looks at their faces, the way they’re waiting patiently for some sort of explanation, like this is all billy’s life dream and he’s completely on track for his 10 year plan, and not stuck on a ride spinning out of control, no one in the driver's seat to guide the way, and feels whatever grip he’s got just–slip.

he can’t take it anymore. can feel his anxiety and humiliation turning to anger, ‘cause it’s the safest place to hide.

“what?” he growls, wiping at his eyes and stepping forward, making himself tall–big–just like neil taught him. “you think i can do better? you think i can fucking ask for more?”

“better than steve–” ”–yes!” they yell simultaneously, eddie sounding just as mad, tommy sounding exasperated.

“jesus, then you’re stupider than me!” billy yells back, throwing his arms out wide. he hopes to god no one comes out anytime soon and witnesses this, ‘cause this is already too much to handle. “yeah, steve cheating fucking sucks, but hey! at least he comes home to me! at least he puts up with my shit. at least he still agreed to marry me!”

“dude, that’s like��” tommy tries, but he doesn’t want to hear it.

“and i know i’m a lot, okay? i know i’m hard to fucking deal with,” he lists, counting off in his fingers, “so, if the best i’m ever gonna get is every other weekend and the occasional christmas, then so be it!” 

he steps back, suddenly exhausted. hears the way his voice cracks and hates himself.

jesus, he’d fucking leave him, too. 

“what–you want me to ask someone to love me for fucking life? you think there’s a single person in the entire goddamn world who could commit to me, and only me, and never stray?” he’s begs, aiming for mean, but he hears how he misses the mark by a mile and just sounds desperate. looks at the guys he’s called his best friends for years now and pathetically wishes they'd answer him, that they’d tell him. that they’d be honest and give him what he needs to hear.

needs somebody, just one person, to tell him he’s worth something.

he pushes that need down deep and lets his voice give out, feeling fucking ruined. “don’t be delusional.”

they stare at him silently for a beat, then another, before eddie breaks the peace.

“jesus, man. what the fuck’s steve done to you?” he asks quietly, and when billy meets his eyes, he’s not mad anymore, instead is just looking at him like he cares.

uhhh and then heather comes back in the picture after drifting away, living her best college life, except it wasn't really her best college life, and that dick boyfriend that billy and carol told her to dump actually turned out to be a real dick, but his brother was worse, and suddenly she's picking up the phone and calling billy, asking if she can hide out at his for the night, and if he can pick her up from hospital, and he's barely been in georgia for a month when he gets the call, so he makes the drive back to california then drives them both back, and they send a selfie to the group chat like 'hoes in georiga do it better' and suddenly carol and chrissy are turning up on his door step like what the fuck? heathers back? after not returning our calls for months? years? let me the fuck in?

and then theyre getting spectacularly drunk and recounting their worst hits, and billy's fessing up his Feelings about everything that went down with steve, trying to be Nice about it cos he's aware who he's in a room with, and carol's like 'you know we chose you, right? like you know you won us in the divorce?' and billy's like. too drunk to process that elequantly, and is like. well obviously you're saying that to make me feel better but i Know steve's always gonna be more important to you. and carol and chrissy are like. we may have known him longer, but we love you better.

carol: who offered to be designated driver to my planned parenthood appointment when we were seventeen and me and tommy were scared shitless of what was gonna happen if we didn't make it. who shoved four weeks worth of pay in my hand as they pushed me out the car door. not fucking steve.

chrissy: you squared up with my dad the day i got kicked out of home while eddie helped me pack and carol caused bodily harm to my mom. you sat with me for every meal i ever ate all through my last year of school, no matter how long i took to eat it.

heather: i never fucking liked him. thank fuck he's out of your life. me and max gonna be poppin the biggest bottles when we see each other next.

tommy and eddie when they find out: bro you literally made this band. if it weren't for you, we'd still hate each other. you changed our lives, bro.

and lots of other stuff but. billy having FRIENDS that love him dearly and he loves dearly back and living his best life.

then like. 4 years later:

billy pulls the phone away from his ear to stare at it in shock before lifting it back up. “i’m sorry–what?” 

neil clears his throat, and billy’s pretty sure there’s a gun pointed at his head. there's no fuckin' way his dad just invited him and daryl home for christmas. 

“i said–he can come, too,” neil says after another minute of silence. he sounds like he’s talking through clenched teeth.

holy fuck. 

so he didn't hear him wrong. he’s officially invited back home, after three years of radio silence. neil didn't even reply to the birthday text he sent him that first year, and now he’s being invited to christmas? daryl, too? something’s fucked.

“you dying?” he blurts out, ‘cause that's probably the only realistic option.

his dad sighs, sounding burdened. tired. billy feels his heart start to race. 

“no, son,” neil responds, letting the silence hang.

“okay, then. what?” he presses, ‘cause shit’s not making sense. why now? why’s he been a homophobic piece of shit his entire life only to suddenly now decide to not care? 

“me and susie just want our kids home for christmas,” neil explains.

billy’s not buying it.

billy eventually tells his dad he’ll get back to him, he’s just gotta discuss holiday plans with his partner first, and neil replies that him and sue would really like them to join them. 

billy feels like he’s talking to a stranger. 

says he’ll text when he knows what the plan is.

texts max to see if she's got any similar phone calls recently, then tries to forget about it.

gets home from work that afternoon and he attempts to start dinner, but doesn't take long to get distracted and burn it, deciding to give up halfway through. 

daryl comes home just as he's throwing the towel in, lydia in tow, and finds him sitting on the kitchen counter eating chocolate from the packet, food burnt on the stove.

“my turn to cook,” billy states, offering lydia some chocolate, eyes focused on daryl. “so, takeaway?”

daryl eyes the mess on the stove and sink and sighs, grabbing the pamphlets from the top drawer.

“don’t care, you’s pick,” he hands them over to lydia, lydia jumping on the counter beside billy. billy looks at their choices over her shoulder before his eyes catch on daryl starting to walk away. “ring and order, i’mma go shower.”

billy nods, focusing back on the task at hand, pushing all thoughts of his dad and christmas out of mind.

lydia holds up the thai food pamphlet.

“fuck yeah,” billy says, picking his phone up from the bench.

while he calls and orders, lydia and daryl switch. her in the shower, and daryl coming out to lean against the kitchen bench.

“you good?” he asks, watching billy try and scrub the pan he burnt.

“what are we doing this christmas?” billy replies, dropping the pan back in the sink and turning to him, completely changing the subject.

daryl shrugs. it’s november, he’s barely thought about christmas beyond trying to figure out what to get lydia. 

“usual, i guess,” he answers, picking up a tea towel and wiping the few dishes billy washed before he got stuck on the pan. “might go to rick’s for lunch, might go there boxing day instead, or the greenes. might just hang out here.”

“so, nothing’s planned,” billy summarises, picking the pan back up. he scrubs a bit before giving up again, putting more hot water in the sink before turning to him. “my dad called.”

daryl snorts. him and billy haven't sat down and painted detailed pictures of their childhoods, but they've shared the broad strokes, and he’s not stupid, or an idiot. has enough experience in the shitty childhood department to fill in the blanks.

neil wasn't good people.

will wasn't a saint either, but something about the way billy talked about neil, especially about the years after he moved out, and the way neil treated him that one time daryl met him, made him more slimy–more manipulative–in his opinion. 

at least will never pretended with him. he always had his own principles and morals, and he stuck with them. daryl always knew where he stood. 

neil, on the other hand, seemed like all his principles and morals depended on public perception, and could change at the drop of the hat. was a wishy-washy bastard, always too busy caring about everyone else's opinion rather than his own, which meant if billy was never good enough to get every single person's approval, he never got neil's.

daryl hates him.

“yeah?” he says, throwing the tea towel down on the bench. “what’d he want?”

billy chews his cheek. 

“invited me home for christmas,” he admits, then corrects, “us. he invited us home for christmas.”

daryl raises an eyebrow at him. 

“he invited us to fuckin’ hawkins?”

billy shrugs this time, testing out the pan again before giving up and letting it soak. “yep.”

daryl stays silent, letting billy get his head straight. the only reason he would be bringing it up is if he had something to say about it.

“asked him if he was dying, he said him and susan just wanted to see their kids for christmas,” he explains, looking at him out of the corner of his eye like he’s too scared to turn to face him properly, but still wants to see his face. daryl gets it.

“what’chu wanna do?” he asks after another few minutes of silence.

billy shrugs.

“going there would be stupid,” he finally says, turning to him properly. “it’d be awkward and rough and it’d be a shit christmas. he’d probably hate you, he definitely hates me, fuck knows lydia doesn't need to be subjected to him, and max probably won't even be there.”

“so we don’t go,” daryl says, then waits.

billy cracks less than a minute later. “but why did he call? why’d he invite us? why now, when for the past few years, i’ve been as good as dead to him?” 

daryl let's him talk it out. knows he’s not asking him anyway.

“surely he must be dying, right? like, cancer or some shit? there's no way he woke up this morning like hey, let’s reach out to my greatest failure and make amends–”

“you ain’t a failure,” he cuts him off.

“no, i’m just his failure,” billy rolls his eyes before rubbing a hand down his face.

daryl knocks his arm into his, nudging him with his shoulder. billy grips the counter behind him tighter.

“i don't even know why i care so fucking much,” he whispers, so fucking confused his head hurts. “if he’s dying, then, like. so what. who gives a shit, right?”

“ain’t that simple,” daryl says back, and billy slides his hand over until their pinkies overlap. daryl knocks his elbow into his again. “it’s fucked up, what parents do to their kids. even more fucked up how we still treat them like parents. expect them to love us, ‘cause we fuckin’ blindly love them.”

billy blinks at him and daryl realises his eyes are wet. 

“ain’t blindly,” billy states, voice firm.

daryl nods. “that's why it’s fucked up.”

and then the idea of them going home for christmas and introducing his boyfriend and kid to neil, finding out about the cancer, and neil being like. it's physically killing me to pretend to be okay with this. and billy being like. cancer's a bitch, huh. bet you never saw this side effect coming, did u, dad? who knew liver cancer said bi rights.

[itsalmostavengers]

Do you have any plans for fics after Heavy Pleasures?

Nothing solid, but there are always tons of ideas floating around in my mind at any given point that could suddenly spark into a hyperfixation. Recently my maladaptive Stevetony daydreams have consisted mostly of one of them going into the other's timeline for Whatever Reason, and then like having them falling in love all in the wrong order. I have two completely different fics with this trope in mind: one where Tony goes into Steve's, and another where Steve goes into Tony's. I think both of those have the potential to be both incredibly fun to write and incredibly rewarding bc like. The protectiveness at the sight of this younger, less jaded version of the man they’re in love with? The longing? The falling in love in a million different ways with a million different versions of the same guy? Oof.

but also they would be Capital P Projects sooooo as to whether I would see them both through? idk.

I also have a massive project that I started working on three years ago n have since abandoned, but I did so much of it already that I'm wondering whether to just post it all anyway even though it won't be finished. I mean, better out there for a few people to read than just gathering dust in my gdocs

[disease-danger-darkness-silence]

Hi OP can you write like a whole series of novels based on this ficlet? Pls?

When Wayne moved to Hawkins fifteen years ago to case the town, he hadn’t expected to end up staying. What kind of hunter purposefully cocked up an assignment? A bad one apparently, but he was fine with that. He’d been sent to the small town in rural Indiana after a strange rise in creature sightings, that sort of thing didn’t take much time getting back to the kind of hunters led by his younger brother, Al.

He quickly found out that Hawkins was acting as some sort of beacon to supernatural beings, attracting them to seek out and settle down in the town surrounded by thick wooded areas. Weres of every kind. Vamps of every kind. Witches, shapeshifters, banshees, and just about every other kind of creature you could think of.

What started out as a task to infiltrate the town to get a better idea of the severity of the infestation quickly turned into something more, because then he got to know the residents as more than just what they were and began seeing them as neighbours and friends. They trusted him and welcomed him into their communities, even the supernaturals grew to trust him and he even watched some of them grow up. He couldn’t hurt these people, they weren’t doing anything wrong.

Keep reading

[amarriageoftrueminds]

thing about Steve's story that is getting right on my tits today:

why didn't Steve already know about Operation Paperclip before Nat told him?

fury in A1: there' a lot we have to bring you up to date on ...but not those hydra weapons. ignore those. 👀

fury in CATWS *before he has supposedly found out about hydra*: y'know the SSR did a lot of shady shit back in the day...

SIR? what do you mean?? 

what are these mysterious things the SSR did that we never saw which Steve is expected to know about and accept culpability for?

if you think the SSR was shady why are you working for SHIELD?? *something something devil's sacrament something something

where was all this info in Steve's 'pls come to work for me immediately the world is in danger' 🥺 briefing in A1?

It seriously looks like they just left steve to flounder and update himself on modern history all on his own... while conveniently neglecting to mention all the things they knew would make him uncooperative. 😒

[autumnrory]

i at least understand why stucky authors insist on including steve/peggy because they're trying to adhere to mcu canon as much as possible though i'm kind of like *bucky voice* the thing is...you don't have to

and i get it's part of the comics and all but idk why there's so much bucky/nat too when the mcu decidedly did not go that route except for a couple little hints of it like. even if nat's 80s birthday is a lie i really don't think it fits with the timeline lol not that the creators care about their timeline either but still