Noodle - [E.M X Fem! Reader]

Can I please order some banana slices to share w Eddie? The scenario being that thing on tiktok where he literally just picks you up and swings you around? I feel like being rattled around like that would shake something back into place in my brain.

you are formally invited to ddejavvu's 10K dinner party, now serving palate cleansers

--

One minute you're folding laundry, the next you're in the air. Eddie's arm digs tight into your inner thigh and his other winds around your waist, a soft grunt coming from him as he hoists you into the air.

"Eddie!" You shriek, a giggle spilling uncontrollably from between your lips, "Eddie no!'

"Eddie yes!" He insists, lowering his voice and giving it a dark rasp, "Rocking the baby~."

He swings you left, then right, your body slumping into his arms like sack of potatoes. You relinquish control of your limbs, letting Eddie flop you around like a ragdoll while you laugh. Your stomach twists and turns, the feeling light and airy, until finally he has mercy on you and sets you down.

His hair makes him look like he is the one who got flopped around, but your chest heaves with adrenaline and makes up for it. His eyes are alight with mischief, and he leans in to kiss the last giggle right out of your mouth.

"What was that for?" You break away, breathless.

He shrugs, the chain hung from his jeans jingling as he shifts his weight from foot to foot, "Do I need a reason to kiss you?"

"Not- You need a reason to shake me around like a jar of glitter!"

"All babies need a good shaking every now and then." He states, matter-of-factly, "Isn't that what they say?"

"Eddie, no! That could kill them!"

"Oh." His proud smile drops, "Well, you're still alive, aren't you?"

somewhere only we know

a/n: i accidentally made this so long & ran with the request in whatever way my heart desired! hope this is enuf hurt/comfort for all ur needs <3 word count: 5.6k summary: You haven’t seen Steve in a few weeks, barely a couple phone-calls keeping your relationship beating. You assume the worst. Steve does his best to make it up to you. [hurt/comfort + miscommunication + established relationship]

It’s hard to not think he’s avoiding you.

Steve never seemed the type of boyfriend who would be foolish enough to ice you out without so much as a word about something being wrong. He wears his heart on his sleeve — more than anyone you know.

You’d also like to think you would know. That by now, all these months together, you’ve would’ve somewhat memorised the twists and turns of his emotions. But if he’s dropped any clues about being upset with you, you certainly hadn’t picked up on them.

You think you’d prefer his iciness to this odd avoidance.

It has to be that he’s upset, you reason. You would prefer he’s upset; that’s fixable, doable, and completely normal for a couple. The alternative is harsh, a cruel thread of insecure thoughts; perhaps Steve has suddenly decided he doesn’t have time for you.

And it’s a lot harder to pretend that thought doesn’t sting terribly.

Keep reading

your post just made me think--ok so Steve's ready with foods for every part of your cycle. he comes home from grocery shopping a couple weeks later with tampons and chocolate and is like "ok we're ready for the storm" and reader's just going "...what storm?" and he's like uhh your period should have started today, right? but it did not start today and

bada bing baba boom it's baby time

you’re so right anon!!! steve short circuits at the new info too!! cw: a couple poor period analogies and 1 bad impregnation joke

he’s come in the house whistling away with bags of groceries for your period.

“steve, did you rob a store?” he’s got way too much food for the two of you.

“you’re funny, though i might have the slight of hand for that.” he really doesn’t, “this is for shark week.”

steve jingles the bags as you polish off a glazed donut. “shark week?”

“yeah, the bloody battle between you and your uterus.” your eyebrows pinch together, “it’s supposed to come today.”

“i haven’t gotten my period at all.” you say and steve’s confused, dropping the bags to the counter unceremoniously.

“you’re pregnant.” he says with finality and you scoff.

“i’m a day late harrington, not a week.” you go to reach for another donut.

“alright, i’ll give it a week, but i’m telling you, they’re swimmers baby.”

im just gonna leave these here…..

IM INTERNALLY SCREAMING 😩😩😍😍

TYLER HOECHLIN as Glen McReynolds in EVERYBODY WANTS SOME!! (2016)

panic attack

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Reader

Summary: When you have a panic attack at one of your movie nights with the party, you ask them to call the one person who can help.

Word Count: 1.4k+ words

Warnings: panic attack, soft,protective!Billy, concerned!party, fluff

a/n: okay, so this one is another from the old account. i wasn’t really sure if i was going to repost this one, just because i’m not as fond of billy as i used to be, but a lovely anon asked me to repost this one so here it is! i made a few edits and billy is definitely very ooc but i hope you enjoy nevertheless <3

NOT MY GIF! CREDIT TO THE OWNER!

You let out an amused snort at something Steve had said as you sat on one of the couches in Mike’s living room. Max and El were tucked under each of your arms, snuggled into your side as they shook against you with laughter. 

You were having your bi-weekly movie night with the party, Steve and Robin. You were currently on your third movie and, surprisingly, everyone was seated and watching the movie instead of running around or arguing like usual. 

You looked around the room, smiling at the people you got to call family, however your smile faltered slightly as you wished your boyfriend could be here too. You and Billy had been dating for a few months, secretly, and contrary to popular belief, he was a real gentleman. He treated you like a princess and he’s been there for you through tough times, especially your frequent panic attacks.

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Billy Hargrove x reader

Summary- Dinner at the Hargrove/Mayfield house takes a sour turn when Neil comes home unexpectedly, putting everyone on edge, especially Billy, but his girlfriend Y/N, has other plans for the abusive father

TRIGGER WARNING-TALK OF ABUSE, SCENE WITH ABUSE, KNIFE USED, HAPPY ENDING

2.2k words

Thank you to @katberk for the idea for this imagine! I hope that I did it justice!!!

Requests are open!!

Dinner with the Hargrove/Mayfields was going well. As well as a first-time dinner with the boyfriend's family can go. Billy's father wasn't there, much to the relief of said boy, and yourself. You knew all about the abuse that went on in the Hargrove-Mayfield house. I mean, how could you not when Billy would come to your house at least once a week, most times more than that for you to patch up his wounds and hold him until dawn broke through the trees surrounding your house? It didn't take very long for him to come around to you at the start of the relationship. You didn't push or pressure him into telling you what happened, he eventually told you himself, which you couldn't be more proud of him for. Ever since, you patch him up and comfort him until he would have to go home to pick up Max for school, the vicious cycle starting over again.

Dinner was peaceful. Susan asked you questions about yourself, your childhood, and what you planned to do after school. You answered the questions with a smile until Billy put a stop to the questions. "Susan, I think she's had enough of the questions for tonight." Billy chuckled, making you smile at him, reassuring him you were happy to answer any questions they had.

Dinner continued on, and everyone got along nicely until Neil walked through the front door. He walked into the dining room and saw his family sat, with a girl he didn't recognize, having dinner. "What the hell is this? I thought you worked late tonight Susan, and Max, I thought you were going out with that friend of yours, what's her name? El, is it?" Neil asked, setting his briefcase down next to his seat at the table.

"Um, dad, this is my girlfriend, Y/N. Y/N, this is my father, Neil." Billy introduced, anxiety pouring out of him like a waterfall. You could tell he was terrified to introduce you to his dad, seeing as you know what his dad does behind closed doors.

"It's lovely to meet you, Mr. Hargrove. Billy is so wonderful, I couldn't ask for a better man in my life." You said, getting up from your seat, standing to your true height (which was quite tall for a female), and going to shake his hand. Neil merely looked down at your hand before turning to Billy, a nasty look on his face.

"No, Billy is no man. He's not even man enough to have his girlfriend over for dinner while I'm home. That doesn't make him a man at all, sweetcheeks." Neil said, sneering at his son. Billy was backing up, trying to get further away from his father before he lashed out at him. That was the last thing Billy, or even Max and Susan wanted right now. They all wanted to have a calm and peaceful dinner without Neil ruining it by being the jackass he was. 

"Neil, sweetheart, it wasn't Billy's idea to not have you here for dinner. It was my idea. I just wanted to meet her before you to see what I thought of her before you met her and got to know her. I just wanted to make sure she was good to your, our, Billy." Susan said, trying to defuse the situation quickly. It didn't work, however, only making Neil angrier than he already was when he walked into the house.

"Don't take the blame for what this little shit did, Susan. He needs to learn his lesson and learn to respect me, in my own house!" Neil yelled, making both Max and Billy flinch. 

The short and stocky man brought his hand up, rearing it back to slap Billy across the face. But just when he was about to make contact with his skin, his hand stopped quickly, causing Billy to open his eyes when the blow never came.

When he opened his eyes, he was met with a sight he never thought he would see. You held a knife in your right hand, the sharp blade of the knife pressing firmly to his father's throat, a bright glint reflecting off the silver of the knife from the dining room light, into his face. Your left arm held his chin up, keeping it facing upwards slightly so you had access to the tender skin on his throat easily. "If you lay a finger on him, I'll slit your throat right in front of your family, you got that?" You sneered, peering over Neil's shoulder to look at his face. He started to nod his head, but you only pressed the knife further into the taut skin of his neck, speaking again. "Use your words. I want to hear, and know what you understand me." You spoke in an unusually calm voice.

"Yes, I understand." Neil said in a strained and scared voice.

"Good, but if he ever, and I mean ever, comes to my house again with so much as a tiny little scrape, I won't hesitate to paint the walls with your blood. Do I make myself clear, Mr. Hargrove?" You asked in a whisper, your voice low and threatening, only speaking to him this time. Neil echoed a quiet yes, grabbing his throat and rubbing the skin when you let him go, pushing him away from your figure. You gently set the knife down on the table, grabbing the water glass from in front of your plate. You brought the glass to your lips, took a swig of it, and put it on the table as you looked between Max and Billy. "Well, I think the three of us should be going. Don't expect them back for a few days." You said with a serious look on your face. Billy walked over to you, his fingers lightly grazing yours as you whispered to him to pack himself a bag for the week ahead of you and then help Max pack herself a bag as well. The still slightly frightened young man nodded his head, pressing a light kiss to your lips, a small smile gracing his lips as he directed Max up the stairs and to her bedroom.

Not even ten minutes later, the stepsiblings came back down the stairs, bags and anything else they needed in hand, walking out to Billy's Camero to put their stuff in and get in, waiting for you.

"Well, Mrs. Hargrove, dinner was wonderful, I apologize for having to cut it short, maybe next time we can finish dinner and have a calming evening afterward. Mr. Hargrove, don't you dear forget what I said or lay a hand on your wife or Maxine, or you'll regret you ever met me," You said, a menacing look in your e/c eyes. "Have a wonderful evening and good week, I'll return those two at some point! Goodnight!" You said, a sickeningly sweet smile returning to your face as you walked out of the house, out to the awaiting Camero.

You got into the car, closing the door behind you and smiling over at Billy who was sitting in the passenger seat. You're the only person he lets drive his precious car, other than himself. "Well, Max, you can either stay at my place with me or if you want, we can drop you off at one of your friends' houses for the week. Where do you want to go, sweetheart?" You asked, turning in the driver's seat to Billy's little sister. She thought for a moment before deciding she wanted to stay close to Billy. 

The car ride to your house was silent other than the radio playing Billy's rock music in the background until Billy spoke up. "Where'd you learn to do that with a knife, babe?" He asked, turning to look over at you as you drive.

"Well, when you live the life I do, fighting to keep it at least once a year from demogorgons and other creatures from the Upside Down, you learn to use weapons, and become great at using them too." You say, your voice becoming quiet.

~*~

Pulling into your empty driveway, you help Max into the house with her things, setting them down in the living room. "We're just in luck, my parents are gone for the month so we have full reign of the house. You have three guest rooms and my room to pick from. If you want to sleep in my room, Billy and I will take the guest room across the hall from my room. Just, don't go into my parent's room, but everything else is fair game, including the game room downstairs." You say to the short redhead in front of you.

"I think I'll take your room, if that's okay with both of you?" She asks, her voice timid as she asked. You nod, helping her bring her stuff up to your room. You grab a change of clothes and your glasses to put on after taking your contacts out.

You walk into the guest room across from your room, seeing Billy stripping off his shirt, already in his pajama bottoms. You push your glasses up further on your nose, getting into bed next to Billy. 

You sit in silence for a while, deciding to just go to bed after your eventful day. You set your large-frame glasses on the nightstand and burrow down into the mattress, cuddling closer to Billy. His hand runs up and down your almost bare back, the only thing covering it is a sports bra. You shiver slightly as his hand continues to move, letting out a content sigh after a few minutes.

"Thank you for doing that at dinner. I didn't know what to do when he started going after me. One thing about Neil is, that you can't talk back to him or say anything snarky to him or you'll get it worse. I think you really put him in his place." Billy said, not saying anything else for a few minutes. "And thanks for getting us out of there. Especially Max. I may not be the best brother to her, but I really care for the little punk. I worry that someday Neil will lay his hands on her mom, or even worse, her. I don't know what I would do if that happened. I'd probably go crazy on him." Billy said, laughing dryly at the end. 

You sat up in the bed, resting one hand on Billy's naked chest, the other supporting your weight on the bed. "Well, now you don't have to worry about that anymore. Maybe I should talk Susan into moving into here to get away from Neil. She doesn't seem like she loves him, at least from what I saw she doesn't. I don't know though, I'm not there all the time." You said, looking down as your finger traced small patterns on his chest.

"I saved up all the money from my job at the pool to get Max and myself out of that house. I don't have quite enough to rent an apartment, but I'm almost there. Just a few weeks worth of paychecks this summer and I'll have enough for a year, but by then I should have another job and a steady income to provide for the two of us. We just have to put up with him for another month or two and we'll be out of there." Billy said, staring up at the ceiling. You stayed quiet for a few minutes, thinking of what to say.

"Move in here."

"What?" Billy asked, giving you a confused look.

"You heard me. Move in here with me. My parents love you and they adore Max. We can tell them about what happened tonight and I know they'll say yes. They already know of the abuse that's been going on. They know you sneak over here late at night and stay the night. They asked about it one time and I just couldn't lie to them. I told them the truth, and they said that if you ever needed a place to stay, they would welcome you and Max with open arms. They'll agree." You explained, waiting for Billy to say anything. 

"I don't know Y/N/N, that's a lot of stress to put on your parents. I couldn't do that to them, to Max." He said, sighing heavily.

"They love you, Billy. And they're never around anymore, anyway, it would be perfect. You'll get out of that hell hole and I won't be lonely anymore. Say yes, Billy. Please." You said, begging at the end. 

Billy stayed silent for several, agonizing minutes before speaking up. "Okay, I'll talk to Max and see what she says then I'll tell Susan." 

"I already say yes! Anything to keep me here!" You both hear Max shout over the video game sounds from your room, making both you and Billy burst into fits of laughter. 

"I love you, Y/N. So much. Even more now that you're helping me protect Max." Billy says when the laughter dies down, looking into your eyes.

"I love you too, Billy. I would do anything to keep the two of you safe. Always." You say, leaning up to plant a kiss on Billy's plump, awaiting lips.

Steve Rogers finally gets drunk.

Pairings: Steve Rogers x f!reader Themes: Funny? and CUTE. STEVE BEING CUTE WHILE DRUNK. Summary: Steve got wrecked by Thor's Asgardian Liquor and now he's stumbling under your balcony, reciting Shakepeare's Romeo and Juliet to you. A/N: I stumbled over a prompt that I have long lost now and this was the fruit.

It was a perfectly quiet night, and you were unwinding on your balcony, half lost in thought, when the unmistakable sound of someone quoting Romeo and Juliet—or at least attempting to—echoed from below.

“O, she doth teach the torches to burn... so—hic—bright!”

Rolling your eyes, you assumed it was some drunk wandering the street. But then, in a voice far louder than necessary, the mystery romantic slurred, “It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night... like a rich jewel in... uh... someone’s ear!”

You sighed, trying to ignore it. But then there was a strange thunk against your temple—a small pebble had just bounced off your head.

“Ow!” you hissed, standing and scanning the area, annoyed—until you spotted Steve Rogers, lurching slightly, down below on the sidewalk.

You watched in amazement as he squinted up at you, attempting to focus and swaying on his feet like a flag in a strong breeze. He seemed to be mentally assembling the pieces of a big plan, his face all determination and zero sense. Another pebble tumbled out of his hand as he wobbled, barely avoiding tripping over his own feet in the process.

“But soft! What light through yonder window breaks?” he shouted, looking about as stable as a newborn giraffe on roller skates.

You blinked. “Steve... are you okay?”

Steve flung one arm into the air, as if delivering a grand declaration, nearly toppling backward. “It is the east, and Juliet is the... uhm... Juliet is... Juliet!” He thrust a hand forward, fingers spread wide, as if that added extra meaning. “And you—you—are...”

He paused, visibly struggling, his other hand braced against a streetlamp for support.

“A total mess?” you offered, eyebrows raised.

“A goddess!” he slurred, blinking up at you with the most sincere, lovelorn look you’d ever seen. “A bright angel!” he continued, pulling himself up, trying—and failing—to straighten his posture.

For a moment, he seemed to try and get a grip, but his feet betrayed him, and he ended up doing an awkward spin, arms windmilling, before stabilizing himself.

“Steve, how much have you had to drink?” you asked, starting to laugh despite yourself.

“Only... one cup,” he replied, attempting to measure out what he must’ve thought was a “tiny” amount with his fingers. But the gap between his thumb and forefinger was about the size of a baseball. “Well... one Asgardian... goblet.” He grinned up at you, eyes bright. “A small one!”

You tried to bite back a laugh as Steve clasped his hands over his heart, gazing up at you with tragic romance. “Deny thy father and refuse thy—thy name!” He paused, his forehead wrinkling in concentration. “Wait... did I—did I skip a part?”

“Just a few lines,” you teased. “You also hit me with a rock.”

“Oh,” he mumbled, frowning. He bent down, swayed, and then picked up a handful of pebbles. “Doth my lady forgive me?”

“Steve, don’t you dare throw those at me.”

He looked down at the pebbles in his hand, confused. Then, with an exaggerated wink, he tossed them aside like he’d just disposed of a dangerous weapon. “Not a pebble in sight!” He shot you a triumphant, lopsided smile.

“And why art thou—no, wait—why are you out here, Juliet?”

“I live here, Steve,” you replied, trying to keep a straight face. “You’re the one making a scene.”

But Steve only clasped his heart, looking utterly enchanted. “Oh, fair maiden... would you come down and—uh, wait... no. Would you let down your hair?” He stopped, perplexed. “No, wait, that’s... that’s Rapunzel.” He scratched his head, lost. “Same thing, right?”

With a sigh, you leaned over the balcony railing, looking down at him with a smirk. “Steve, you should probably get home before you accidentally wander into traffic or—”

But he suddenly looked up at you with the most determined expression you’d ever seen, his eyes glassy but oddly focused.

“Doth thou love me?” he cried, one hand raised in a fist of drunken valor. “Say it true, or I shall be...” he paused, struggling, “...a total disaster!”

You couldn’t help it—you burst out laughing. “Steve Rogers, get your tipsy Shakespearean self home!”

He beamed up at you, his goofy grin full of pure, unfiltered adoration. “Parting is such sweet... uh...” he faltered. “...sorrow?”

Steve, swaying dramatically, looked up at you with a sudden, steely determination that only a man in his state could manage. “If thou shall not come down… then I… I shall climb up!” He pointed to the fire escape, his face alight with misguided heroism.

“Steve, please don’t—”

But it was too late. He grabbed the bottom rung with a graceless, lurching motion, grinning up at you with sheer triumph. “I’m coming, my fair maiden!”

With all the poise of a baby deer, he hoisted himself up, grunting as he fumbled his way onto the next step. Each rung seemed to be a new, Herculean task as he struggled to stay upright, clutching the railings like his life depended on it. His foot slipped once, making him lurch sideways, but he shot you a reassuring thumbs-up, completely oblivious to the danger.

“Steve! You’re gonna hurt yourself! Seriously, get down!” you called, half horrified, half laughing.

“Fear not, my lady!” he slurred, clinging to the railing and taking a very, very slow step up. “I am... coming for you!”

As he ascended, he attempted another line from the play, fumbling it badly. “Uh… But soft! What... yonder... light and window... um... something?” He shot you a sheepish grin. “Hold on... almost... got it.”

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of wobbling and mumbling fragments of Shakespeare, he reached your level on the fire escape. He extended a hand dramatically, nearly toppling over in the process, and declared, “I have arrived!”

You laughed, hands on your hips as he wobbled in front of you. “Steve, that was a lot more ‘Romeo in need of a medic’ than ‘Romeo and Juliet.’ You’re absolutely out of it.”

He blinked, swaying as he tried to focus on you. “I came for thee,” he said proudly, managing to stand up straight—though his grip on the railing suggested it was doing most of the work.

Steve, still gripping the railing for dear life, looked at you with a mischievous glint in his glassy eyes.

“Fair Juliet… couldst thou… come a bit closer?” He held out a hand, wiggling his fingers invitingly, his face lit with pure, drunken delight. “I have something… uh… very important to tell thee.”

You arched a skeptical brow. “Steve, I’m pretty sure you can say it from there.”

He squinted, trying to look tragic but only succeeding in looking adorably pouty. “Nay… ‘tis… a secret of the heart,” he slurred, placing a hand over his chest with a lopsided grin. “I must whisper it… so only thou can hear it.”

Rolling your eyes but grinning despite yourself, you leaned a little closer, watching as his gaze flicked from your face to your lips. 

“Alright, Romeo, what’s this ‘secret of the heart?’” you asked, half-expecting him to spout more mangled Shakespeare.

But instead, as soon as you were close enough, Steve leaned forward, his hand sliding around the back of your neck, and he pressed his lips to yours in a soft, surprisingly gentle kiss from across the railing.

Caught off guard, you froze, feeling the warmth of his mouth against yours. Then, with a laugh bubbling up, you pulled back slightly, blinking in shock as he gave you a pleased, slightly dazed smile.

“There it is,” he whispered, eyes twinkling. “My secret… is that thou art… perfect.” His gaze softened, and he gave a dopey smile. “And... very kissable.”

You shook your head, laughing. “Alright, Romeo. That was smooth—but I think it’s time to get you inside before you ‘heroically’ declare your love to the whole neighborhood.”

He grinned, still clutching the railing, looking like he’d just conquered the world. “Only for thee,” he slurred, leaning into your touch as you helped him down, his expression dreamy. “Only... ever for thee.”

Just as you were helping Steve down from the fire escape, a voice floated up from the street below.

“Steve! Where the hell are you?” It was Bucky, sounding frustrated and more than a little exasperated. You could see him pacing the sidewalk, looking around like he was on some kind of ridiculous rescue mission.

Steve’s eyes widened, and he pressed a finger to his lips, eyes sparkling with mischief as he looked at you. 

“Shhh!” he whispered, grinning like a kid playing hide-and-seek. His attempt at silence was immediately betrayed by a giggle that escaped his mouth, and he put both hands over his lips, eyes gleaming with excitement.

“Steve, I know you’re around here somewhere! Get down here before you fall off something,” Bucky called out, still searching.

Steve, in a fit of tipsy brilliance, looked at you with a conspiratorial smirk and pointed toward your open window beside the balcony. Without a word, he started squeezing himself through, contorting like he thought he could make himself invisible in the process.

“Steve, what are you doing?” you whispered, half-laughing, as he awkwardly wedged his shoulders into the window, one leg hanging out, struggling like he was trying to sneak into a bank vault. He gestured wildly for you to help, but his clumsy movement only made him even more noticeable.

He leaned forward, eyes wide, and whispered, “Shhh! The enemy approaches!” He stifled another giggle, clearly thinking this was the funniest thing in the world.

Just then, Bucky looked up, and Steve flailed dramatically, accidentally bumping his head against the window frame with a muted “ow,” then snorted, laughing harder. He pressed his finger over his mouth again, hushing you through breathy laughter.

“What the…” Bucky stared, his gaze following Steve’s ridiculous pose as he tried to disappear through your window, half-in and half-out, his other leg kicking as he tried to haul himself through.

“Hey!” Bucky called, hands on his hips. “Rogers, get down here. Right now.”

Steve froze, peeking over the window frame like a deer caught in headlights, then gave you a pleading look, as if you were his partner in crime.

“Shh! The man downstairs… he cannot know I’m here,” Steve slurred dramatically, squinting as if Bucky were some kind of Shakespearean villain.

You bit your lip to keep from laughing as Bucky’s eyes narrowed.

“Steve, you’re on the fire escape, not a secret lair. Get down before you fall off and end up in the hospital.”

Steve waved a dismissive hand, a drowsy, lopsided grin on his face. “I’m in safe hands, Bucky! I have my fair maiden to protect me,” he announced proudly, glancing at you with such conviction that you had to stifle your laughter again.

Bucky groaned, his exasperation palpable as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine, you’ve got one minute to say goodbye to your ‘fair maiden,’ then you’re coming with me,” he called, crossing his arms.

Steve turned back to you with a goofy grin, still wedged halfway through the window. 

“Didst thou hear that?” he whispered in a loud stage voice, pointing at Bucky. “The villain gives us but one more minute. But it shall be a glorious minute!”

You rolled your eyes, pushing him gently. “Alright, Romeo. Time to head home.”

With one last dramatic sigh, he extracted himself from your window, blew you a clumsy, theatrical kiss, and began his wobbly descent down the fire escape. As Bucky grabbed Steve by the shoulder, trying to steer him down the street, Steve spun around, clutching Bucky’s arm like he was clinging to the last lifeboat on a sinking ship.

“Unhand me, Mercutio!” Steve cried, throwing his other arm up with all the grandeur of a Shakespearean actor. “Thou art but a hindrance to my love! Dost thou not know I’m with Juliet?”

Bucky froze, staring at Steve in complete disbelief. “What did you just call me?” His expression was halfway between horrified and annoyed, eyebrows knitted in utter confusion.

Steve pulled himself up, looking deeply wounded, his hand over his heart. 

“Mercutio!” he slurred dramatically, pointing a shaky finger at Bucky. “You are the friend that doth betray me! I shall not be parted from my love!”

Bucky blinked, visibly trying to process this. “Mercutio? Steve, what the—” He looked up at you, helplessly gesturing at Steve. “I’m Mercutio now?”

Steve waved a dismissive hand. “Alas, yes, for you wouldst steal me away from my Juliet,” he said, glaring with the most intense puppy eyes you’d ever seen.

“Steve, I’m not Mercutio,” Bucky groaned, looking over at you as if hoping you could talk some sense into him. “You are absolutely out of your mind.”

But Steve seemed lost in his own world. He placed a hand over his heart, gazing longingly up at you again. 

“Juliet,” he called to you, his voice full of melodrama. “Mercutio hath come to tear us asunder.”

Bucky’s face scrunched up in pure irritation. “Steve, I’m trying to get you home before you fall flat on your face. You’re gonna thank me in the morning.”

Steve shook his head, looking at Bucky like he was the ultimate betrayer. “Mercutio… thou art a traitor,” he declared, voice wobbling with fake tragedy.

Bucky rolled his eyes. “I swear, if you call me Mercutio one more time—”

“Mercutio!” Steve interrupted, leaning against him dramatically. “Wouldst thou poison my love? Dost thou come between us to ruin the most beautiful thing?”

Bucky let out a defeated sigh, looking over at you with an expression that screamed, Help me. “Your ‘Mercutio’ is about to drag you home, Rogers.”

But Steve just shook his head again, mumbling about “betrayal” and “unhand me, knave,” as Bucky steered him away, calling one last time over his shoulder to you, “Fear not, Juliet! I shall return! Mercutio’s treachery shall not prevail!” You stifled a laugh as Bucky, looking thoroughly done with it all, muttered to himself, “Mercutio… unbelievable.” He gave you one final, apologetic look as Steve continued to mumble protests about “Mercutio’s interference,” until they finally disappeared down the street, Bucky still muttering, “I’m not Mercutio.” Tags: @disneyprincessbuffyannesummers @strawberrybisou @alyana-luvs-u

When Max graduates she throws two caps. One for her and one for Billy, whose early acceptance to Berkely is still sitting in a closed envelope on her desk, postmarked July 23, 1985.

Dustin throws two, too. His own and one that has "86 Baby" painted across the top in dripping red paint. He keeps Eddie's lucky D20 is his pocket all through college.