#Steve: …I wouldn’t?

[morganbritton132]

Wait.

You know who else is into really niche stuff and photography? Jonathan Byers.

That guy goes out to California, picks up an art book from a thrift store, and falls in love with the way this specific model is photographed.

Once everything calms down and the Byers are back in Hawkins, he tries to recreate one of the photos. It’s not working so he shows his friends the picture to see if they have any ideas.

Robin looks at it and then at Steve with just the biggest smile. Steve is just like, “Shut the fuck up, Robin.”

Steve, a former child model that was moderately successful in very niche art house circles and would’ve probably still been successful if his parents didn’t try to fix their relationship by dumping him in a small town and becoming conservative, thanks god everyday that Hawkins is where culture goes to die. Those pictures will never see the light of day here and he’s happy about that.

Robin, the daughter of hippies and lover of niche art house stuff, spends year harboring a crush on a pretty androgynous girl in her parents’ art books.

She shows one to Steve and says something like, “This is the girl that made me realize that I liked girls.”

Steve’s like… “That’s me.”

Robin just stares at him so Steve moves her finger to a different person on the page and says, “Say it was her. I can get you her number.”

[chloesimaginationthings]

FNAF movie Mike isn’t wrong, but he’s not right either..

Based off @/Tanijrou post on twitter

[wheneverfeasible]

Bullshit (part 2/3)

Continuation “fix it” of this ficlet where Steve changed himself to try to earn Eddie’s love.

Steve missed his polos.

He missed his light wash jeans, his music, watching his favorite movies, he even missed his stupid plaid walls.

Eddie had laughed at them the first time he’d been in Steve’s room, back before they’d even started dating. Technically they were still there, they were just covered up with posters of bands Steve only knew about because his boyfriend liked them. Eddie had teasingly gifted him a Black Sabbath one back when they had just been friends to give his room more “personality” instead of his mostly undecorated room, which…okay, fair, because Steve had admittedly not done much of it himself just because he couldn’t be bothered.

(And he did, actually, kind of like the poster because it was their own little inside joke. It made him smile when he saw it, even to this day, even if he thought he could still taste the damned demobat sometimes.)

It wasn’t like he really knew much of who he was to begin with. He still had the bowling pin he and Tommy had stolen from the bowling lane their sophomore year (Steve’s idea, though only to impress his friend), and the picture of the car he had bought on a whim because Tommy had said he wanted a car just like it. Any other knickknack had either been gifted or purchased for a similar intent.

Now, that car picture was collecting dust in his closet, replaced by the Black Sabbath poster that Eddie had pinned to the wall slightly askew for ‘aesthetics,’ though it being slightly off-center and at an angle made Steve a little itchy. Soon, however, other posters soon followed, some given to him by Eddie and some he purchased himself after learning what bands Eddie liked, with a large Dio one taking up space by his bed.

Flyers of Corroded Coffin shows or other band merch dotted around the room as well, which he didn’t really mind because he liked supporting his boyfriend, though the clutter and disorganization slightly bothered him. Eddie had grinned at the sight however and called him a ‘real boy now’ for looking like the room of a young man and not a ‘30-something corporate stooge,’ so that would have to be fine too.

But he still missed his room looking like his room, instead of a replica of Eddie’s. It made Eddie feel more comfortable however, so he tried not to think about how it wasn’t his aesthetic at all, because he could learn to like it. He could change for the better. He could be what Eddie wanted. He could be good enough.

Which was why he was confused, staring at the garment box on the kitchen table where he’d been circling car ads in the classifieds, trying to find something cooler than his bimmer. Eddie had come over with a wide grin, sliding a box he recognized from one of the department stores he used to shop at before dating Eddie.

Eddie had proffered it with a flourish, grinning expectantly, practically vibrating with anticipation as Steve had carefully lifted the lid and moved the tissue paper aside to reveal the piece of clothing inside. A polo shirt in a soft, buttery sort of yellow with thick vertical white stripes running vertical over it.

Steve looked up at Eddie with a furrowed brow. “I…you got me a polo?” he questioned, confused and also concerned, knowing the department store was definitely outside of Eddie’s usual price range.

“Yeah!” Eddie confirmed happily, moving to sit in the chair next to Steve, looking down at the soft material Steve had yet to pull from the box. “The check from the gig came through, and I remember you looking at this shirt a couple weeks ago. I’ve been waiting to be buy it ever since.”

Steve blinked at that. He hadn’t known Eddie had caught him admiring the shirt in the window while he and Eddie had been walking around downtown. He felt a flair of panic at the thought, annoyed at himself for slipping up, for reminding Eddie that he was a stupid preppy rich kid. Eddie didn’t look upset though, or at least…he hadn’t. Now his eyes were darting over Steve’s expression with growing worry, chewing on his lower lip.

“Is that…is that all right? Was it a different one you wanted? I-I still have the receipt, we can return it and get the one you wanted,” Eddie rushed to say.

“No,” Steve quickly said, his fingers of one hand tightening slightly on the box while his other reached out of their own accord to slightly touch the shirt within. “I…Eddie,” he breathed, not knowing what else to say, what this meant. Why would Eddie buy him something like this? “You shouldn’t waste your hard earned money on…something like this.” Shouldn’t waste your money on me, he wanted to say. “It’s your first paying gig.”

Eddie shook his head quickly, an almost embarrassed smile curling his lips with a slight blush. “I wanted to, Stevie. You always buy me things, I wanted to return the favor. You’ve been so supportive of me and I wanted to…I don’t know. Thank you.” He glanced down at the polo with a soft expression, though he did frown a little too afterwards. “I haven’t seen you wear your polos in a really long time,” he murmured quietly.

Steve tensed at Eddie’s words. Of course he hadn’t. Polos weren’t cool. Polos weren’t good enough for Eddie. It was why he was so confused at this gift. He didn’t understand why Eddie would buy him something that wasn’t metal. That wasn’t suitable for his boyfriend.

“I know that you’re experimenting with your style and all, and I won’t deny you’re hot as fuck in these,” Eddie grinned, moving to pinch the loose sleeve of Steve’s tee between his fingers. It was from some band he didn’t actually know before he’d bought the shirt, something called Leatherwolf, though he had bought their tape as well so that he could pretend to be a fan and know some of their songs. “But you look hot in your polos too. I miss them.”

Steve sat up straighter at that, his eyebrows flying up in surprise. Eddie…liked his polos? “Aren’t the polos…kind of lame?” he asked carefully.

Eddie snorted, smiling as he leaned in to press a kiss to Steve’s neck, causing a startled smile to erupt over Steve’s own lips as he squirmed at the slight tickle of Eddie’s lips and hair. “There’s nothing lame about you, sweetheart,” Eddie murmured, voice roughened with his tease. He pulled back though, a touch of his worry on his expression again. “Do you like it?”

Of course Steve liked it. He loved it. It was exactly the one he had been looking at before, even though he’d tried to hide it, which meant that Eddie really had noticed it and really had been waiting to buy it for him. With his first paycheck from Corroded Coffin’s first real paying gig.

There had been the fear that Eddie’s involvement with the band would limit their options, that no one would want to listen to a band that had a member who was suspected of grisly murders. Eddie had been prepared to step down, to let the others move on without him, had offered it even though Jeff and the others had vehemently opposed the idea. They’d said that Corroded Coffin wouldn’t exist without Eddie and if he wasn’t part of it then they didn’t want to do it anymore.

In a surprise twist that probably shouldn’t have been all that surprising, Eddie’s infamy had actually helped the band. The news of his believed guilt and then later innocence and injury from the actual killer that he had tried to stop had spread even beyond Hawkins, drawing a crowd for their nights performing at The Hideout who began to see more patrons than ever before.

Then they’d been invited to participate in a Battle of the Bands, which they hadn’t won but they’d placed second, and the random shows they’d throw themselves at the quarry or wherever else saw larger crowds than usual, even the one they threw to celebrate Gareth graduating, and they’d even been asked to play at the fair, though it was a free gig.

Then, most recently, someone had approached them after one of their shows and asked to hire them for an event in Indianapolis. A paying event in Indianapolis. With it was the promise of possible future paying gigs as their fanbase grew and spread. There was even talk of a possible scout being at the gig.

Dustin had joked that maybe ‘86 hadn’t been his year, but ‘88 could be, though Eddie had just grinned and denied it, saying that ‘86 had been his year after all. He hadn’t said why, but he gave Steve a secretive smile and reached out to tangle their fingers together.

Steve felt a flare of warmth beneath his skin as he stared down at the polo again, hesitating before giving a brief nod. Eddie’s previously nervous smile bloomed into a joyous one, and he leaned in quickly to plant a smacking kiss to Steve’s cheek. Steve rolled his eyes but couldn’t prevent his own smile from growing on his lips.

“Thank you, baby,” Steve murmured, sliding a hand over Eddie’s neck to draw him in for a slow kiss. He didn’t know what it meant still, Eddie buying him a polo of all things, but it made him more determined than ever to be good enough for his boyfriend.

When they pulled back, Eddie soft with happiness, Steve made the decision. He needed to go all in if he was to keep Eddie happy. He drew in a deep breath and moved to take Eddie’s hand, his finger lightly tracing one of the scars there.

“I was thinking of growing out my hair. Maybe even dying it. Or maybe shaving i—”

“Don’t you dare!” Eddie interrupted, expression and tone absolutely scandalized as he squeezed Steve’s hand. Steve jumped slightly at the sudden explosion, blinking wide eyes at Eddie, causing the other to flush slightly in embarrassment. “I mean. You can, obviously, if you really want to, it’s your hair after all, but…” Eddie let out a small whine of protest as his gaze moved up to take in Steve’s hair.

Steve self-consciously reached up with his free hand to pass his fingers through his hair, which wasn’t quite as voluminous as he used to style it, but was still the last real testament of his former style. His former personality. The bullshit one.

“I mean,” Steve hedged, glancing away with a small roll of a shoulder in an aborted shrug. “It’s not exactly metal is it?” He looked back at Eddie with a slightly strained smile, rolling his eyes as though in commiseration. “I don’t want to embarrass you by making people think you have a prep for a boyfriend,” he laughed.

Eddie’s expression changed immediately as he stilled almost unnaturally, falling into a blank neutrality, even his eyes shuttering as he slowly pulled his hand from Steve’s grip. The response caused Steve to start panicking, worrying he’d messed up in some way, that he reminded Eddie of all the ways that he was lacking.

Steve opened his mouth to start apologizing, ready to apologize for anything, but Eddie held up his hand palm out to stop him, causing Steve’s mouth to shut with a soft click of teeth.

Eddie’s gaze dropped from Steve as his brows slowly began to furrow, a calculating expression settling over him as his eyes fell to the soft yellow polo still in the box. His lips twisted into a frown. After several excruciating moments, his eyes moved towards Steve’s shirt, an even more pinched look settling over his expression.

“Who are you wearing?” Eddie asked, his voice low and slow.

Steve glanced down at his shirt, the panic in him spiking, before realizing that this was a test. He had to prove to Eddie that he could like metal too (he didn’t, not really, though he could appreciate some of it) and wouldn’t be an embarrassment. He could do this.

“Leatherwolf,” he answered, thankful that he had done his job well enough to answer this pop quiz. He straightened his spine and pulled up the information he memorized with a slightly relieved smile. He could do this. “They’re from California. They were founded in, um, 1981.”

“What’s your favorite song of theirs?” Eddie asked, and there was something slightly off in his tone, but Steve couldn’t place it, not when he was frantically trying to recall the titles of the songs he’d made himself remember.

“Um. Cry Out?” he hesitantly asked more than answered, which caused Eddie’s lips to press into a thin line. He felt his breath catch at the obvious displeasure on Eddie’s face, wondering if he’d answered wrong. Was that a bad song? “O-or no, um, not that one. Uh. I like…um. I like…Magic Eye?” Fuck no, that wasn’t right. “Magical Eyes, I mean,” he corrected himself hastily.

Eddie’s eyes slowly dragged over Steve, his lips compressing again into a thin line as he drew in his own deep breath through flared nostrils. “Fuck,” he muttered, obviously not meant for Steve but it caused Steve to panic anyways as Eddie looked away, his brow furrowing in thought as his gaze settled on the newspaper on the table and the circled ads there.

“I’m sorry,” he quickly apologized, though he wasn’t certain what he had done wrong this time. Maybe Eddie didn’t like that band?

“Steve…” Eddie heaved a heavy sigh, rubbing his hand over his face before he looked over at Steve again. “I had thought you were just…trying things out. Experimenting. Lord knows your folks never let you be your own person,” he muttered before waving a hand as though to swat that thought away. “I didn’t realize you were actually trying to change.”

Why did Eddie sound so appalled by that? Wasn’t that a good thing? He was willing to fundamentally change who he was just for Eddie, to become someone deserving of Eddie, who fit in Eddie’s life. Didn’t Eddie want Steve in his life?

“Why are you upset about me changing?” Steve huffed, his worry turning into annoyance in his tone. “I thought that was a good thing. Not being the douchebag I used to be.” He scowled, crossing his arms with a roll of his eyes to cover his unease.

Eddie just looked at him in that way that made it seem like he was seeing inside Steve, which normally Steve liked because no one ever actually saw him, but now it just made him uncomfortable. Like he had done something wrong. He was just trying to be a good boyfriend, however. Besides, it’s not like he had come up with the plan on his own.

Everyone always talked about how different he and Eddie were. Always pointed out how preppy he was, made fun of Eddie for falling for a jock, had even asked at the start when they first came out publicly to their friends who was blackmailing whom into the relationship. Steve knew he had to change. They were too fundamentally different. It was the only way to keep Eddie.

Except Eddie didn’t look like he was going to be kept. He had started slowly shaking his head, pulling back, his eyes skittering over Steve again but in a way that said he wasn’t liking what he was saying. Steve’s panic spiked again.

“Eddie. This is good. I’m willing to change for you, that’s how much I love you,” Steve breathed, reaching out to grab Eddie’s hand with desperation. “I listen to your music now, and I play Dungeons and Dragons, and I don’t even talk about basketball around you anymore. As long as you’re happy, I’m happy. Don’t you see? Isn’t that all that matters?”

Eddie’s lips turned down into a sharp frown. A shuddering breath left him before he all but yanked his hand from Steve’s, his dark eyes turning even darker as he pulled away from Steve and said those damning words:

“But I’m not happy, Steve.”

Steve felt all the air leave his lungs, felt all the blood first rush to his head and then drain out of him, felt his mouth and tongue and throat shrivel into dryness as his eyes widened in horror. Eddie was shaking his head, stumbling out of his chair and back, an unreadable expression on his face as he distanced himself from Steve and this revelation.

“This wasn’t what I wanted, Steve. This doesn’t make me happy.” Eddie’s took another step back when Steve stumbled from his own chair, putting the table between them. “I…I need to go. I need to think.”

Steve knew with certainty that if he let Eddie leave now, that this thing between them would never be the same. His heart clenched in his chest painfully, and he felt his eyes sting with encroaching tears. “Eddie, please…” he begged, his words cracking.

Eddie only shook his head, sending his hair arcing around him, before straightening his spine. “This isn’t you. I don’t want this to be you. I love you Steve, but this version of you? The one that I created—” This time it was Eddie’s voice that cracked.

Clearing his throat, Eddie backed away. “No. No, this isn’t what I wanted. I’m sorry, Steve, but I need to go. I need to think. I can’t be here right now. I’m sorry.”

And with that, Eddie spun on his heels and all but ran towards the door, escaping from Steve’s incompetence, his unworthiness, his undesirability while Steve could only stand there in frozen horror, the tears he couldn’t hold back any longer slowly dripping down his cheeks.

Because he knew. He knew this would happen. He knew that no matter what he did, he would never be good enough. He knew that Eddie would leave him one day. Knew that he would never be able to keep the one he loved.

Knew that he, like his love, would always be complete and utter bullshit.

-

Part 3

-

tag list: @derythcorvinus @katyawriteswhump

[clovreat3r]

The man behind the slaughter..

could they even be considered a man?

edit: i didn’t know there were already so many people rolling around in their beds and curling their toes for Steve raglan

[your-unfriendlyghost]

Refs were from this Seinfeld post lol

[afterartist]

It’s a quick 20 minute sketch so shush but

No seriously

Where tf did he get that word

[hungharrington]

i’m almost 22 and have never even kissed a boy (which i’m chronically insecure about). it’s made me feel very nervous regarding intimacy or “doing it wrong”. i feel like steve would be great coach and reassure the reader it’s okay and that they’re doing great. nothing to embarrassed about. (my soul needs this so bad)

hi honey !! i think you r so right & steve would be the perfect guy to give all the assurances <3 i hope u know that kisses don’t matter too much til they’re with someone you’re rlly sweet on so i wouldn’t sweat it angel x this one is sfw! wowzer!

You’re on your couch and in Steve’s lap and worried about just about everything. 

Steve’s being sweet about it, his hands resting gently on either side of your waist, his thumbs swiping up and down to comfort you. He’s watching you closely, unaware he’s just taken your first, second, and third ever kisses. How could he know? you think, on the side of insecurity— it seems everybody else your age has already kissed someone. 

“You okay?” He asks, hazel eyes tracing over the soft features of your face. He loves your nose and the shape of your bottom lip— strange things to like perhaps, but Steve doesn’t care. 

You nod but don’t say anything. The motion is a bit jerky. Your hands are planted on his shoulders, holding them probably a bit too tight. Exhaling a breath, you nod again and pretend the fondness in his gaze isn’t making you shy.

“Yeah,” you finally speak, voice smaller than you intend. “Just- just wanna like—“ you swallow, eyes darting to the ceiling for a moment, if only to avoid his intense eyes. “I wanna get this right.” 

A car engine drones by outside in the dusky evening. Steve gives a little chuckle and his hands on your waist tug forward, pulling your attention down and your body an inch closer to his. It’s warm— every part of him is glowing warm. 

“I don’t think there’s any way you can get this wrong,” He admits, awfully sincere about it. 

It’s the truth. Steve likes you a lot. You could probably bite his lip too hard and make it bleed and he’d still find it pleasant. You have that effect on him. 

You don’t know that though. So, every stress seems very, very real. Are you kissing firm enough? Too firm? God, are your lips too dry? 

Your tongue flicks out to wet them, your hands giving his shoulders a nervous, minuscule squeeze. In your chest, your heart is torn between rabbiting in its anxiety or shrivelling in insecurity. 

“I mean,” you laugh a little, if only to cover your embarrassment. You duck your head to avoid his face, murmuring, “If there is, I’m sure I’ll find it. I haven’t, uh, exactly done this… too much.”

“That’s fine,” Steve says instantly. His warm, large hands give a tender squish on your waist, before sliding up and around to curl snugly around your body. He sits up a little straighter, his nose nudging against yours. 

“No, Steve,” you say, cheeks a touch heated. You count his eyelashes so you can avoid his eyes, you voice dropping volume towards the end of your sentence. “I mean, like… like ever.” 

Surprise flashes in his eyes for only a moment. His gaze darts down to your lips quickly but then he’s smiling, nudging closer, and stealing a quick kiss off your lips. Now he’s taken your fourth kiss too. 

You flush, something warm pinging its way up your spine. 

“That’s okay,” He murmurs, sounding like he really means it. 

“It is?” 

“It’s great. You’re great.” He kisses you again—your fifth— so sweet it tastes like sugar on your lips, his arms around you pulling you in closer. You drown in it, enamoured by how it feels to have his lips against yours. God, he makes you dizzy. 

Steve breaks the kiss but stays close, his arms pulling you closer still so you’re straddling him properly. He’s warm, so warm— and so freakin’ nice to you. 

“You don’t find it weird?” You can’t help but whisper. Your eyes crush closed, unable to face him. 

“Weird?” Steve echoes. “Are you kidding me? It’ll take more than that to freak me out.” 

One of his hands shifts up, moving up off your waist to cradle your jaw gently in his large palm. He peppers a string of kisses along your cheek and jaw, beginning to suck a sweet spot beneath your ear. Your hips shift before you realising, subtly grinding down into his. Flames begin to burn in your stomach. 

“It’s—I mean it’s kind of, like, a little embarrassing, don’t you think?” You continue, voice a little breathier than before. You’re not sure what you’re trying to convince of him of— you certainly don’t want him to stop. 

Steve’s lips brush over the barely forming bruise on your skin and your breath hitches. 

“Are you feeling embarrassed?” 

One slow kiss against your neck, his plush lips accompanied by the heat of his tongue. You squirm in his lap but don’t answer, fearful of being too truthful. You are and you aren’t. He isn’t making you embarrassed but you are, just a little. 

Your silence makes Steve pause, digging his face out of your neck to meet your eyes. “Hey. You shouldn’t be embarrassed- if you are for some other reason, we can— we can like stop—“ 

“No.” You cut in, God, now you’re seriously giving him the wrong idea. “No, oh my god, I sound so stupid- it’s not you— Steve—“ 

He cuts you off with another kiss, your sixth, and steals your runaway thoughts. It blissfully chases away your nerves for just a moment. 

“Great.” He smiles against your mouth, giving another squeeze of your waist. “Cos you don’t need to be.” He kisses your mouth again, seven. “All you need to be is enjoying yourself, okay? 

You like the sound of that— adore the way he’s so seamlessly finds the thing that sets your nerves alight and soothes it so easily. You whisper back, “Okay,” and gift him your eighth kiss, sweet and fierce. 

[feralsteddie]

I love punk!Steve because the idea of Eddie Munson frothing at the mouth over the fact that he thinks a punk is that hot is so hilarious. Like Eddie is just always two seconds away from starting shit because he can’t believe this guy can just walk around looking that good and have that shitty of a music taste

Meanwhile Steve is so unbothered and really could not give less of a fuck about the punk v metal war around him. He’s too busy vibing and babysitting and making sure Robin doesn’t actually drool whenever a pretty woman smiles at her. He’s completely unaware that Munson is nearly hyperventilating and being held back by Wayne and Corroded Coffin by the scruff of his neck

[runraerun]

The softest Harringrove brain worm that’s ever invaded my head where Billy is the sole guardian of his little step-sister Max. (very little, like 6 years old little. And Billy is 25ish, so it’s a big enough age gap where everyone naturally assumes he’s just a single dad.) And Steve is the host of a dorky yet successful kids tv show called Mr H’s Treehouse (think Mr. Rogers) that Max is OBSESSED with.

She makes Billy watch it with her every single evening, like clockwork. Now, Billy would never admit this, not even with a fucking gun to his head—but he kind of starts to look forward to watching it with her. But it isn’t his fault! The host is, pardon his French, fucking hot as shit.

So every night he gets home from work, drops whatever take-out garbage he got for them onto their TV dinner trays, and parks himself in front of the idiot box while Mr. H from Mr. H’s Treehouse comes on and teaches him and Max about the power of friendship and sharing and eating vegetables or whatever the hell else he’s on about that week. It’s stupid, but it kind of becomes cathartic. Like Billy can just shut his brain off and stuff his face and watch the bright colors and listen to the gentle music and let the stresses of his life fade away—at least for that half-hour anyway. The fact that Mr. H has an ass Billy could bounce a quarter off of… well, it doesn’t hurt.

But what happens when there’s a meet and greet/Story-Time being hosted at Max’s elementary school? Well, Billy’s not a complete douchebag, so of course he has to take her! It has nothing to do with the fact that he also maybe wants to meet this tv host who’s all soft sweaters and pretty brown eyes that Billy’s maybe been fantasizing about for the past year and a half. That’s not it! He’s here for his nerdy little twerp step-sister, nothing more.

(Spoiler, it’s something more.)

[morganbritton132]

I think we should have more fics about Steve being fucked up over the fight with Billy because almost dying due to a giant monster from a hell dimension is one thing. It’s expected. The fact that you didn’t die is actually pretty impressive.

Almost dying because a kid in your class is pissed off at his dad? That’s fucked up.

[chloesimaginationthings]

The Aftons tried to kill Mike for being eepy in the FNAF movie

[edwinisms]

gonna be real as much as i respect the intentions behind autistic edwin hcs (as a person on the spectrum) i pretty strongly lean towards steve yockey’s own statement on the matter, ie; he’s not– most traits people have been interpreting as symptoms are easily explained by his strict, cold upbringing and childhood environment, his repression and fear and living trauma, and well over half a century spent without any human interaction whatsoever, all prior to reaching an age where he could even begin to develop adult social skills and emotional maturity. if anything he’s hyper-aware of social cues due to both having needed to try to read people through edwardian formality on a daily basis, and in order to be keenly aware of threats to his wellbeing. when he’s bitchy, it’s entirely on purpose, not unintentional brutal honesty or out of misreading a room/situation. he certainly has a strong interest in studying the supernatural and occult, but considering he is a supernatural phenomenon, constantly being chasing or being chased by beings of the supernatural– that seems a bit broad to have to be a special interest, and the excess seems more like the product of anxiety, as he’s constantly worrying about what could go wrong and trying to take control by knowing everything he possibly can that might save him, save charles, or solve a case. tldr: not asd, just traumatized and riddled with (mostly related) anxiety.

now niko on the other hand.

[ivysos2001]

Anyone who knows anything about Steve Rogers knows he’s the most stubborn person in the world (especially when it comes to people he cares about) so tbh I really can’t see a reality where he gets to vormir to return the soul stone and calmly accepts that his partner and closest friend of the last eleven years is dead and gone and moves on rather than getting there and doing something reckless and insane to try to get her back

[roanniom]

Hello! I'm glad you're back! Summer is making me think of Steve and his pool, especially him showing off his swimming skills for you after the Party leaves

Steve Harrington x fem!reader

He starts out actually just showing off. Like truly he is just trying to impress you with his skills. But you laugh so much from your seat on the steps in the shallow end that he swims over and grips at your thighs.

“What are you laughing at? You were watching an athlete in peak physical condition,” he says, though he’s completely unable to suppress his grin.

“I’m laughing at the cutie reliving his swim team glory days,” you respond cheekily.

“How dare you.” He punctuates his faux outrage by pulling you away from the step and sitting there himself, pulling you down to straddle his lap. You screech with laughter. Thank god his parents are never around and the blanket of summer night has wrapped around the two of you.

“Still laughing, sweetheart?”

“Yes— oh!” Your words are cut off when Steve grips your hips and grinds you down on the outline of his hard cock. He lurches forward to suck on your neck, collecting chlorinated droplets on his tongue.

There isn’t much more laughter peeling through the night after that. It’s replaced with gasps and moans and splashes as you ride Steve into oblivion.

[evansbby]

cevans characters and their fav type of lingerie they like to see you wear for them ✨🎀 which one is your fav style?

Steve Rogers

He LOVES you in black lingerie. Everyone thinks he’s such a great guy, such a gentleman but between the sheets he’s super freaky and likes for you to be too. He likes a bit of danger, and seeing you in black lace just does it for him. Sometimes he’ll mix it up with different colours (white is his other favourite on you) but usually always with some type of black trim, bow or accent.

Ari Levinson

Ari is literally a daddy so he loves you in pretty pink baby girly lingerie. His love language is also buying you gifts (lingerie) so every piece is like a bespoke, perfectly crafted piece of art. He loves soft baby pink colours on you, white lace trim, see-through pieces, smooth satin, a lot of intricate lace detailing, stitched in roses, tulle, a touch of an opulent vintage mixed with a cutesy babygirl look too. And he spoils and pampered you soooo much and just ugh let me stop here.

Ransom Drysdale

You’d think he’d be into opulent purple or something but no… Ransom just wants you to look as downright slutty as possible (in a classy way) so he has a preference to red lingerie. It matches the red Chanel lipstick he bought you. He’s really into corsets, suspenders, garter belts and he also loves for you to pair the red lingerie with traditional pearls.

Lloyd Hansen

I think Lloyd would be into the super whimsical, intricate, dreamy type of lingerie. Think like For Love and Lemons type vibe. A lot of flowers, hearts and bows in cute pastel colours with a dash of bold mixed in! He especially loves ribbons, he loves tugging on them to bring you closer. He ends up ripping a lot of your lingerie but he thinks there’s something poetic about something so intricately pretty all ripped up. He prefers you naked anyways, although he secretly thinks the lingerie is pretty sweet.

Curtis Everett

He loves you in white lingerie. Pure, clean, gorgeous satiny white! Maybe because he’s so dirty himself bc he doesn’t bathe jk hehe. But no, he just loves how white lingerie reminds him of purity and innocence. He loves that juxtaposition between you and him — he’s all grimy and sweaty from work and comes home to see you dressed up in the pretty white set he bought you??? Oh he’d be ecstatic!

Andy Barber

He loves blue lingerie. Idk why. Maybe he really liked Cinderella or something (although Cinderella’s original dress was actually silver/white). Anyways yeah. Also fun fact the middle pic is one of my favourite VS catalog pictures from 2003.

Jake Jensen

He loves the more modern type of lingerie, it really excited him. Like deep purples, diamanté designs, rhinestones and a touch of glamour. He gets a real kick out of it. Of course, he loves when you dress all sweet and cute too, but this is his secret fantasy hehe.

[morganbritton132]

Steve and Robin should always be on the same shift. It will annoy all their coworkers for sure but it won’t annoy them as much as when Steve and Robin are not working together.