#Shy thoughts

[shy-daredevil]

Like, logically I am keenly aware that Eddie would HATE Billy Joel's music. But that absolutely is not stopping ms from listening to his greatest hits album and being like "omg this is so Steddie/Eddie in general"

[shyheadbanger]

(tag from prev @hummingbird-hooligan​)

[shyrule]

if i pass out in the shower at that point it’s just natural selection

[remanence-of-love]

[willowser]

i keep going back to this thought of like adult, pro-hero, brick-wall-of-a-man bakugou still being just so insecure. like he works hard for his body and he's not stupid, he knows that it's strong and is what it needs to be for his line of work, for being a pro, for protecting those that he loves—but he's always had an issue with...people.

yeah, as an older man, that's fallen away some and he's learned to let go of all the little battles he wants to start, how to ignore challenges that aren't there, but he's still bakugou, and people have this perception of him and his personality and attitude and he knows it's not unfounded, but...what good is there to say about him, really? that he's got a fit body? big fucking whoop.

a hot body isn't what's gonna keep you around.

and it's frustrating, because you smile at him and laugh at the shitty things he says and you forgive him, even when he can't apologize, and you understand the space he just needs sometimes. there are days when he wants to sleep alone because he'd done it all of his life, until you came around, and there are days he doesn't want to speak—to you or anybody—because every little thing is grating on his nerves, there are days when he wants to get out of the house and fuck off to hike, somewhere far without cell service, and only come back once he's sweaty and tired and in need of a shower.

and that's—he's not stupid. who wants to put up with that? him, and all that he entails? all you have to just accept, because he doesn't know how to change it.

it's not as if he doesn't want to spend time with you; some days that's all he wants. your attention, your touch, your little affections, your approval. a reminder that you do still love him, even after everything, and yeah, you say it every night and every morning and before you hang up the phone, but—what about all the times in between? even when he wants to be alone, he still thinks about you, too much maybe, for how much space he's willingly created for himself.

the face you make when you eat something too soon from the oven or when you pretend not to cry at some stupid movie. the shirt you wore last thursday and how well the color looked against your skin. how warm you are first thing in the morning, when he rolls over to make sure you're still there. what you smell like right out of the shower—do you smell like him, on the days you wear his shirts out of the house? does it make you think about him, too, all day? do you even like the way he smells or the way he dresses? how he cuts his hair or the shoes he wears on casual days, when he doesn't have to go work and he's not having dinner with his witch of a mother?

you're...attracted to him. right? gotta be, because if you aren't then all you have is his personality and that—there's just no fucking way. you've gotta be, because you kiss him and touch him and bother him in the shower and sometimes he looks at you across the table and you're giving him this look that drives him fucking crazy and—he's just bad at asking for things, for anything. 'specially for you.

sometimes you make him feel like a virgin fucking schoolboy, that doesn't know how to touch or be touched and so he does petty shit, little things that are supposed to drive you crazy, too. not like he really knows for sure, because the minute you look too long when he's shirtless, he wants to launch his own embarrassing ass off a cliff. he'll never admit to it, but yeah, he eats strawberries that way on purpose, messy while watching you, and he stands at the edge of your bed in a low-slung towel until he's nearly dry, just furthering some mindless conversation so that you'll stay awake and looking at him. when he's at the gym, he'll send a snapchat he took way too long posing for, just to respond with a "yeah", or he'll pretend he doesn't know why it's a big deal that he decided to forgo boxer briefs under his sweatpants.

bakugou wants to be wanted, but he doesn't know how to make himself worth wanting, and doesn't know how to ask either—but he's learning; placing his face between your shoulderblades when he wants you to turn to him in bed, resting his forehead on your knee when he's sorry and can't say why, drawing a heart on a sticky note, quick and shitty, before he has time to get embarrassed, nipping at the skin under your earlobe when he wants you, the blush on his cheeks probably searing into the skin of your neck.

insecure but trying, trusting. isn't that what love is anyway?

[elliewlums]

bat!eddie being your little sidekick after the events of the upside down. you disappeared during the fight with vecna and eddie was presumed dead, so the two of you are essentially trapped in this other realm. he switches freely between a bat and his human/vampire state, favouring the former in order to perch on your shoulder and whisper quips in your ear to make you giggle. favouring the latter when he needs to protect you from these otherworldly creatures; he may be superhuman but you’re still very much vulnerable.

you spend most of your days dawdling around the barren wasteland, avoiding monsters and trying your best to stay alive. eddie’s still his ever-charming self, albeit a little more…dead. really, though, he’s the most alive you’ve ever seen him. everything’s heightened: his emotions, his dramatic monologues, his megawatt smile. he’s still your eddie. amplified. plus he can turn into a bat now— which is sick.

you’ve always been a little vacant - away with the fairies - and that seems to be the case now you’re in this predicament. you haven’t processed the severity of the situation, happy to skip along in your own little world, eddie being your only company for miles.

the gang come back for you eventually; they come to scope out the upside down one more time and are surprised to find you, curled up on a mattress of vines in eddie’s trailer— the two of you have made a real home for yourselves there, all things considered.

robin gazes curiously at the bat on your shoulder, but any time anybody tries to touch him you rear back and skitter away.

“we’re not gonna take him, sweetheart,” steve tries to reason with you. “we just need t’get you home, alright?”

“can-can he come with me?” you ask quietly. your voice is soft and rasps a little; it doesn’t get much use considering your situation.

“that’s not a good idea.”

“no! he has to come!” you sound desperate where your default is apathetic and peacefully oblivious. he knows there’s more behind this than you’re letting on. so steve relents and lets you bring your supposed ‘pet’, softening when he sees your affection and diligent care towards him.

imagine his surprise when that bat turns into a person. not just any person, but eddie the banished. eddie who died in dustin’s arms. eddie who you laid with in the dirt for days until he turned and came back to you.

“why didn’t you tell us? if we knew-“

“didn’t want anyone to take him away,” you croak.

“no one’s taking anyone away.”

the gang get eddie holed up in hopper’s old cabin to avoid the cops; you go with him. everybody’s in awe of the little bubble the two of you have created around yourselves. eddie nestles into your shoulder or your chest, little bat wings stretched to touch as much of you as he can in his shrunken state. he changes back and forth often, always human for the night to rock you to sleep when you start to get heavy lidded and dozy. he knows when you’re feeling more sensitive than usual or a little down, even more attuned to your emotions than before, and knows exactly how to keep you content, endeavouring to hold you for as long as you need, letting you melt and go boneless into his broad, firm chest.

sure, sometimes you mourn your old life, your life before this madness. but you’re grateful for your eddie, in whatever form he chooses to take.

[spacestation-l7]

“The Bo-Staff”

Some angst based off my Ninjago redesign! There’s a reason why I gave Zane a bo-staff from the start and if you’re interested in reading it, proceed to the tags cause I’m too embarassed to do it in captions lmao (Spoiler- it has something to do with the Ice Emperor)

[tianhai03]

4nero doodle

[me--do]

[aastarions]

me sitting here having the foulest degenerate thoughts about my favorite characters

[shy-daredevil]

I'm trying to design some outfits for Eddie and finding the right balance between an authentic 80s metalhead look and my own modern style preference is so tough.

Like I want him to Stull be recognizable but I still love to play with gnc pieces in my fashion design and I can't help but be turned off by a lot of true metalhead 'fashion' bc it can be rather plain when broken down to the basics.

God knows I'm over thinking it. Eddie can wear whatever I want him to bc it's my art but still.....this is the part of costume design I like so you know. 💁

[esprei]

a partner called watt

[seance]

five and klaus in wedding at the end of the world.

[hyakunana]

The Dark Future - Chapter 1 - Family Line

Watch me fulfill my own demise promise when I claimed to adapt one of my favorite lore books into a monthly comic series if I dropped Vex Mythoclast before the 100th VoG conclusion.

Enjoy!

EDIT: Link to the PT-BR version (link para a versão PT-BR)

[willowser]

look. i just. want to talk about bakugou after your first big fight. bc i think he eventually becomes the type of person that knows when he's being too mean but he still can't stop. like you say one thing in defense to him and he takes it a step too far and immediately thinks, why the fuck did i say that—and then you get angrier and so he gets angrier and his inner monologue is just like shut up shut up shut up shut up before you say something you don't mean literally stop.

and so maybe he leaves, just to cool off.

not in the middle of the fight, but it's not resolved either. there's a lull between the little back and forth quips, all the "well i'm not saying that you—" and the "no, you're fuckin' saying—", the "don't cuss at me, katsuki—" and the "then don't talk to me like 'm—" and then it's silent. he's got more to say and so do you—but at the same time, he's just. over it. whatever started the argument in the first place has been left behind, anger moreso stemming from what's happened since the first shot was taken (by him, of fucking course), and he doesn't want to fight with you of all people. not you.

and the longer he's gone, the more it just spins around and around in his head. everything he said and the way he said it and why he said it, why the fuck did he say it. bakugou is—he's too used to fighting, too good at it bc that's all anyone has ever done with him. that's all anyone has ever shown him, that irritation, that push-back, that quick judgement and eventual avoidance. fed up with it. with him.

by the time he comes home—if he can call it that anymore—he knows it's over. he knows this is the part with the "i just don't think it's working out—" and the "really can't handle this right now—", the "you're an asshole—" and the—

and the worst of all is just the abandonment. the worst of all is when he'll come back to that apartment and you'll just be gone. you'll come and get your things over time, stuffing it all into cardboard until there aren't any traces left. until all that's there is the walls and the carpet and the frame and just. bakugou. alone. again.

but he walks through the door and you're just—there. washing some dishes, folding the laundry, poking at your phone because you can't sit still. and you frown at him with a little crease between your eyebrows, bc you're still mad and he knows this is it, this is when you look him in the eye and you tell him—

"i can't find the tv remote."

".......y'always lose the—the freakin' thing. did you check under the couch?"

"that's the first place i looked."

and you stand up to prove you're not sitting on it and he shakes out the throw blanket you were using and sticks his hand between the couch cushions and he finds a bunch of coins, a sock, that pair of underwear he took off of you the last time he had a night off—and the f—reakin' tv remote.

and you rest your forehead on his chest and you're pouting and you mumble out a, "thanks," even though you probably don't want to. you probably do a lot of things you don't want to do, with him. because of him. things you probably don't want to do anymore because you're fed up. and this is it. this is it.

"i love you, jerk."

when you wrap your arms limply around him, he doesn't say anything. because he can't. he can't shut up when he wants to, and he can't speak up when he wants to, and it's something you're probably tired of, maybe, he's not actually sure, but you let him bury his face into your hair and you pretend you don't notice that he's trembling just a little and that you can feel his racing heartbeat through his back.

bakugou doesn't say anything, because he can't, so you just lean into him a little more and you say,

"still love you."

and you pretend not to hear the deep inhale that he takes or the little groan he lets out, and you pretend not to feel the clench of his jaw or the barely-there wobble of his chin. and you say,

"still gonna choose to love you."

because you don't love him by accident. even with his irritation and his push-back, his smart-ass quips and his angry language. you see it all and you see him and you still say,

"always gonna love you."

and that's how bakugou knows where his home is. what it is. that's how he knows it's you, of all people.

[corrodedcoughin]

Robin and Steve getting a job as crime scene clean up crew because hey, it’s a job and it pays well. They are at a regular job, thankfully the bodies are always taken away before they get there so it’s just the blood and other unsavoury things they have to deal with.

What they don’t expect to see is two curly haired strangers rushing up to the scene. A tense conversation between them, the shorter fiery girl telling the taller, defensive boy off

‘maybe DON’T get distracted next time? You think we need another vampire to compete with?’

The taller boy firing back ‘I might be dead but you can’t expect me to hear black sabbath and NOT air guitar! I’ll find our new ‘friend’ and I’ll fix it. Okay!? I’m sorry!’

The intruders walk right into the scene before they acknowledge Robin and Steve.

‘Hello? Hi? Guys this is a crime scene, you can’t just walk through here!’ Steve is infront of both of them, hands on hips and a stern look. Robin comes up to his side, eyeing the pair and cautious after overhearing their conversation

‘Oh. Our mistake. We’ll come back later. You um..don’t happen to know what happened to the victim do you?’ The girl asks, brown eyes flighty before settling on Robin and giving a sweet smile and batting her lashes. Robin stutters, blushing hard and as she tries to give an answer when Steve interjects

‘I’m sorry, we can’t answer that. Maybe try the police?’ It’s said with an irritated undertone almost like he’s jealous that he isn’t the one on the receiving end of the girls attention. But then the other boy steps up, leans far too close while giving Steve a thorough once over that makes Steve feel like he’s been undressed. Steve maybe wishes he was.

‘Oh but I think I’d rather speak to you.’ The boy winks and as he smiles there’s a hint of canine teeth that look unnaturally pointed that the boy licks over. Before he can go any further, the girl thrusts her hand out with a tight lipped smile

‘Ignore him. Please. I’m Nancy, this is Eddie. But like I said, ignore him.’

The boy, Eddie, gives an indignant ‘hey!’ while Nancy continues.

‘We really respect what you do, clearly important and valued work but we are going to need you to come with us. It’s your choice if it’s voluntary or force.’

Robin quickly finds Steve’s hand, as they turn to face each other and run.