#full contrast is so much better in the eyes tho

[bwobgames]

Went around looking for shaders that made game look like its being played on an old console, I think this is the best option but the slight blurriness still makes my eyes feel weird, even though it's really not intense at all.

It appears even though I dream of retro aesthetics I should shoot for digital retro instead of analog retro. Old rpgmaker games vibes it is

[porcalinecunt]

𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋. ♡

🎀 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ thinking about aot men who’d be the softest doms ever . . .

·˚ ◌༘͙[featuring] ! ˊ 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐍 𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐈𝐍, 𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐇, 𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈 𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍, 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍 𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐓

cw — fem!reader. size kink (erwin) body worship (jean, levi) praise kink. lots of breedings. edging, fingering, some nipple play (levi) sub!armin (implied)

◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ author’s note! : hi hi! it’s been a while since i made an actual post here. apologies! life got busy, but i finally have time to make fics again :D there might be some changes on this account but we’ll see! anyways, please enjoy and feedback is welcomed! 🤍

➸ jean kirstien.

he’s already so much of a sweetheart, so it’s not shock he’s carry that to the bedroom. he’s needy but slow, as it’d be way too easy to accidentally hurt you. the size difference aroused yet made him a bit nervous. (the first time was quite a hassle!) nonetheless, jean gave you the fuckin’ princess treatment every time the both of you would get intimate. kissing every inch of your body while caressing your hips with his large hands. he’d gently lay your down, not pulling away from the sloppy kiss the two of you are engaging in. did i mention that this man is huge? he adores watching you struggle to take him completely, squirming and whining as he stretches your smaller cunny inch by inch.

“j-jean..’s too big!” you whined, watching through glassy eyes as your boyfriend hovered over you, sinking himself deeper and deeper into your weeping cunt. your legs twitch in a failing attempt to keep them open, something jean would immediately notice. “does it hurt babe?” he asked in a groan, hazel eyes carving holes into yours through hooded lids. you could only shake your head as he took it as a confirmation to bottom himself out. your eyes rolled to your brain and your jaw went slack as jean watched in awe. “look at you..taking it so well f’me.” he sighed, slowly beginning to pump you full as ecstasy filled your senses. the only thing you could hear were jean’s sweet praises, telling you how much of a good little girl you were for taking him so well and patiently. your head grew hot as the feeling of his dick stuffing you full began to overwhelm you. “good little girl, always taking my dick so well..fuck you’re so cute!”

➸ erwin smith.

oh my god. erwin. what more can i say, he’s a gentleman in bed! anything you ask for, he will do without hesitation. want him to knock you up? done. want some head? he’s already on his knees. sad after a rough day? he’ll stuff your cunny full until your filled n happy. anything your heart desires, he’ll give it to you with all the adoration he has for you. ♡ even better when you realize how big he is. how he can easily pick you up and fuck you silly in mid air if he really wanted to. even better, how massive his fucking dick is, enough to make your mouth water just by the thought of it.

“e-erwin!” you whined, watching your husband’s face as he stared down at you. a gaze full of softness and love, a stark contrast to how he was treating you. a smile to his wife while fucking her slutty pussy like an attention deprived whore. “how did i get so lucky? what did i do to deserve such a beautiful girl as my wife..” he breathily chuckled, fucking into you at a slightly faster pace. erwin started down at you, from your flustered smile to your breasts and stuffed cunt, every last detail on you brought him closer to the edge. “good girl..my good girl. you deserve every inch i give you..”

➸ levi ackerman.

contrary to popular belief, levi isn’t the mean and rough dom many make him out to be (still adore that levi tho!) but rather, a gentle and passionate type of dom. he’s not the most romantic, but oh boy, when he is..buckle up. this man will treat you like your his final meal on death row, savoring every inch of flesh you have on your body. kissing you from your lips to your clit, muttering sweet nothings while pumping his slender fingers inside your cunny. he sings his praises when he’s balls deep in you, calling you names like ‘princess’ and ‘darling’, anything that fills your stomach with butterflies if its not his cock. your legs are already trembling from his voice alone, not helping the fact his groans are fuckin’ perfection.

“settle down princess, i barely did a thing.” levi carassed your breast with one hand while finger fucking you with the other. all he needed was two fingers and his wrist as he flicked it with a quickened pace that almost forced your thighs shut from shock and pleasure. while your mouth was closed, tiny whines still manage to spill through as your husband’s thumb moved it’s way to your clit, adding to the overstimulation. with his other hand, he tugged and played with your nipple while letting go just to take a gentle squeeze to your whole breast. you’re thighs shook as your orgasms reaches closer and you grabbed the coller of levi’s loose shirt for support. “‘s becoming too much princess? you wanna cum all over my fingers?” he spoke in a gentle and low tone, making you nod eagerly to his question. “How cute, shit—if only I could do this everyday.”

➸ armin arlot.

armin armin armeeen! <3 you already know what kind of man he is. his partner’s pleasure is a priority he takes very seriously, from letting you choose the position to making sure you orgasm first before he spills his seed inside you. he gives you princess treatment even after sex, not letting up until you knock out from exhaustion. he fucks you like your a goddess, hitting every sensitive spot in your while singing his praises. he wants, no, needs to see you cum around his cock as it’ll make the night worth it. he won’t lie, seeing you whimpering and shamelessly getting off to him servicing you never fails to push him over the edge and nearly fuck a baby in you. this man is a keeper!

“t-this good enough for you..?” armin sighed, watching you take in his dick inch by inch until you’ve completely sat down on it. “y-yeah..fuck you’re huge..!” you whined out, grabbed his thighs and trying your best to move while the overwhelming pleasure had you shaking. the blonde placed his hands on the plush of your hips, firmly holding it as he lifted you up from his cock before slamming you back down on it. a yelp tore from your throat, nails digging into the flesh of his thigh and your eyes screwed shut from the sharp pleasure. “right there! armin fuck..!” you mewl as he guided your hips, slamming his cock in and out of you at the pace you desired the most. his blue eyes peered through his bangs as he grew redder and redder from the expression you wore so beautifully. mouth parted open in an ‘o’ shape with slightly arched eyebrows, pink washed over your face with red sitting right on your cheeks. fuck, he was insatiable. “yes..just like that love, just like you wanted. always taking it like the good girl you are. ♡”

© porcalinecunt 💌 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ do not steal, translate, or use my work and claim as your own.

[carolmunson]

always something there to remind me (s.h.)

summary: ten years after the sealing of the upside-down, you and your fiance steve head to a cookout to unwind during memorial day weekend. with steve on edge after a rough half sleep full of night terrors, you hope the day can be salvaged by seeing the party and just relaxing, but a violent thunderstorm changes those plans for the worse. pairings: steve x reader, lumax, edancy. heavy on the steddie brotp tho.

tw: 18+ as always. this story deals with themes of mental illness and ptsd, it is only intended for mature audiences. descriptions of ptsd flashbacks, internal and external (please be advised they are dramatizations). partner violence (unintentional). drinking/smoking. discussions of mental illness. very moody steve but very soft steve. features some tense arguments. smut, like, very loving and passionate smut. this relationship is not perfect, it's also a depiction of a moment in time in 1997. the emotional load was very much a woman's job and i personally think steve would be 'too proud' to be 'too soft' about his stuff. so there are parts that seem kind of 'eh' but -- that's just how things were sorta. gif by @kingofscoops

His pill case sounded like a rattle when you took it from the medicine cabinet, taking it into the kitchen where he was shrugging on his freshly ironed polo. The ironing board and hot iron still set up by the counter. The black stone contrasted nicely against your cherry wood cabinets that he installed two summers ago. That was when you both thought he might be getting better: the night terrors were less and less frequent, the flashbacks far and few between, he was less tense, less irritable. Seeking you constantly for soft touches and kisses, any kind of affection he could pull from you he'd take willingly. Two years ago was your two year anniversary -- when he finally told you the real story. Why he had all those scars, why he can't sleep, why he wakes up in a cold sweat crying. Why you'd never been able to figure out which health care company was providing him with so much medication and therapy when he was working part time at the hospital -- it's because it was the FBI.

It was two years ago where they took you to an underground office where they told you everything. Steve sat next to you, gripping your hand so tightly you thought it might break. They reassured over and over that nothing was coming back, that everything was over, but that Steve and his friends will likely never recover emotionally and mentally from what they endured. Four years into things now, you were both his fiance and his nurse. You checked in monthly with his caseworking team, but in these last few months, they've had nothing but shaky reports. You wondered if maybe his mind just isn't as sharp as it used to be -- you both just entered your thirties, maybe things get knocked loose quicker when you've been to hell and back. "Here, honey," you say softly, putting his pill case on the table. He looks at them and sighs, amber eyes lingering on the 'Saturday' section of the pill box. "Let me get you some wa--" "You don't need to give me my pills every day," he says -- it's soft and sharp, "I know I have to take them. I've been takin' them for ten years."

You offer him a tight smile, "I know, Stevie..." You trail off. 'It's important that he feels in control of the situation, a lot of his role when he was in this situation was to protect others. Try not to baby him about it, he might be fragile, but he doesn't like to feel like he is.'

"It's just...I don't want a repeat of last year," you quietly remind him. He had gotten too sure of himself when he started to feel better -- missing days, stopping altogether, off and on.

He reaches for the pill case and pops open the Saturday square, tossing the main five pills into his palm and then into his mouth. Pain, anti-depressant, anti-anxiety, migraine, blood thinner. The heavy stuff sat in the cabinet above the fridge: Quaaludes, Oxycontin, Sumatriptan, Clozapine -- among others. Every day was a reminder to him that he didn't come out of this a stronger person. His dad let him know that at every visit, treating him like he had a son made of glass. "Don't," he says after he swallows, "Don't start with me."

Your eyes narrow in on the finger he puts up in warning and travels down to his big hand, a vein popping in his forearm and under the band of his watch. His bicep flexes against his polo, you follow it across the expanse of his chest and down the other arm, landing back on the pill case.

You knew last night what kind of day it would be this morning. Desperate reaches for you while he woke up from another nightmare, his damp chest up against yours while he hid his face in your neck. He hugs you so tightly to him so he doesn't float away, and you match his strength as best you can until he falls back asleep. Sometimes it takes hours of stroking his hair and soothing him before he feels safe enough to even close his eyes. In the years you've been together, he's been more and more embarrassed over these needier nights. 'It's just, baby -- I'm a man. I have to get over all this shit.'

"I'm not starting anyth--" "You are," he warns, eyes narrowing. He clenches his jaw, "Don't."

"M'sorry," you breath out. You take the pill case when he sets it back down and bring it back upstairs to the main bathroom. You refill the case before placing it back in the medicine cabinet with a sigh. When it closes you look at yourself in the mirror, no longer the fresh 26 year old he met at the hospital admin desk when he started his part time job as an assistant in the children's psych floor. Gaining hours towards getting his pediatric therapist licensure to help kids who were like him and his friends -- well, sort of. To some extent. You smooth over your button down dress, his favorite one in your closet -- navy blue with beige flowers littering the fabric. It flounces over you in dips and swoops, falling just under your knee. Another sigh and you grab your purse from the bedroom and slip on your sandals, clip clopping down the stairs where you hear him grab the keys. Another Saturday morning where the group gets together and just hangs out, even though Steve sees Eddie, Rob, and Dustin pretty often throughout the week. They've been doing it for years now, but the outside buzzed with the promise of summer, Memorial Day weekend making everyone feel more at ease. Everyone except Steve.

He slams the car door when he gets in the drivers seat, making you jump in the leather of his Lexus. He runs his hands over his jean clad thighs, having grown in size over the last six years with age and trips to the gym. 'I just wanna be in like, peak physical condition if anything tries to come back. I wanna be more ready than when I was a kid, y'know?' And while the muscle was certainly titilating, it made for a very wary you when things went left. "Don't be like that, Stevie," you say softly, your voice calm and gentle like it is with patients on the floor, "I promise I wasn't trying to get on your case. Do you -- I don't know, do you wanna just stay home?" "No," he snaps, looking ahead toward the road as he starts the car, "I didn't pack a cooler full of all the shit you made for this cook-out just the stay home." "Can you relax?" you ask a little harsher than you planned, "Are you even good to drive?" "I'm good. To drive," he says through gritted teeth, pulling down the street. "Are you sure? 'Cause -- Honey you -- you didn't sleep so good last night and I --" He hits the breaks hard, stopping short at a stop light turning to look at you, tilting his head a bit to glare at you down the slope of his straight nose.

"Drop it," he says, the tenseness in his voice sends a chill up your spine. "Stevie I'm not trying t --" "Drop. It." he warns again, "Don't make me raise my voice at you." "Don't talk to me like that," you say sharply while he pulls the car forward when the light turns green. "Then don't talk to me like I'm a fucking child," he snaps back. "Well maybe if you didn't have an attitude with me like one I wouldn't have to," you cross your arms over your seat belt and huff. He shakes his head slowly, tongue tight between his teeth. He thought he knew better than to fall in love with someone who had a tongue as sharp as his. "You're askin' for an argument when you say shit like that to me," he says lowly, the Lexus crunching over helicopter seeds while he navigates through the neighborhood. You see his shoulders rise and fall while he attempts to steady himself -- fuse lit and ready to blow. "I'm sorry," you follow up, a deep breath filling your chest. You uncross your arms to lean your elbow on the edge of the window, resting your cheek in your hand, "I didn't mean that." "You did," he responds, tight and frustrated, quiet. He hastily reaches into his back pocket with one hand, eyes still on the road. Steve pops a cigarette between his full lips and you sigh at the sound of the lighter flicking. “What’s wrong now, hm?” he asks while the cigarette dangles from the corner of his mouth, “What’s your problem?” “Nothing,” you say – it’s something. He takes a drag and blows the smoke out the open window, “It’s just that you bought that pack yesterday and it’s already half way gone. You always chain smoke when you –” “Give me a fucking break,” he snaps, voice raising with each word, “God, can you let me have fuckin’ anything?” “No Steve, I guess not. God forbid I look out for your heal–” you start sarcastically. “Look out for yourself, baby,” he says sharply into the rearview so you can see his glare, “I’m doin’ just fine without you on my back.” You bicker the rest of the way to Ed and Nancy’s house, he only raises his voice one more time. 

Eddie and Nancy's wedding was one for the ages, something about the mixture of straight laced and all over the place that made sense when they tied the knot. The pair, you were told, seemed unlikely until Eddie was in recovery after being removed from the Upside Down. He was down there for six months, tested on for another six. The Party and the older kids would visit him every day, keeping him updated and fed and hydrated. They'd cheer him on when he made advances in his mobility -- but for the most part he just needed rest. Nancy was working a lot, throwing herself into journalism like she always wanted, so she'd come to the hospital late. She wasn't really one for small talk so instead, she'd just read. She'd read aloud while he was asleep, her voice slow and calm -- stoic. Keeping him lulled like still water, she didn't even know if he knew she was there. One night, she picked up where she left off on the first installment of Lord of the Rings, continuing in her soft stoic voice. She watched him lay there with his eyes closed, breath steady, the beeps of the hospital machines in quiet rhythm with him. She at frist felt silly before she started, but maybe in his dreams he could hear her, and maybe just maybe if she does something fun, he won't have nightmares tonight. So she tries it...she puts on a silly voice for Samwise, and she continues with her silly voices. Gruff and manly for Aragorn, gleeful for Sam, some weird form of Scottish for Gimli. She bites her lip, smiling as she tries each one, shaking her curly head at her ridiculousness and stops. Then she hears it...the low rumbling giggle from Eddie in his hospital bed. "Keep going, it's funny..." he said with a grin, eyes still closed. "You can hear me?" she asked, trying to stifle her giggle. "I can hear you every night," he said, eyes peering open slightly, "It's the best." "Do you want me to keep reading?" she asked with a blush. He nods, a soft grin pulling up on his lips while he eyes closes again, "Only if you do the voices."

When you park in the driveway it's clear that the rest of the group arrived before you, their cars already Tetris'd into their places. Steve lugs the cooler out of the back seat with a grunt, hoisting it to rest on his broad shoulder. You roll your eyes at his machismo, like someone is watching him at all times and he has something to prove. You both walk to the back, the sounds of music and conversation and laughter bubbling louder and louder as you get to the gate of the yard.

A symphony of 'Heeeyyy!' and 'There he is!' and 'Finally!' come from the group as he opens the gate and you follow in toe. Eddie comes over quickly to help with the cooler, his hair still as long as it was when he was 20 – the only real updates being his five o’clock shadow and the ring in his nose. A few more weary tired lines by his eyes. His home made Iron Maiden muscle tee had a small sweat mark by the neckline – they must’ve been out here getting ready all morning. “Hey man,” he grins when the cooler gets set down, pulling Steve in for a tight hug. “Hey,” Steve smiles, patting his back hard, savoring the hold. “You alright?” Eddie asks when he lets go, putting a hand to his face, “You feeling okay?” Steve smiles tightly and nods but Eddie only half buys it, returning his look before turning to you. He comes forward, kissing both your cheeks with his full lips, scruff scratching at your skin, “Hi, sweetheart.” “Hi Ed,” you grin, watching everyone else come up to say their hellos. “Where’s Nance?” Steve asks, but his question is answered when she waddles out of the sliding door of the kitchen with a pitcher of lemonade. From the back, you’d have no idea she was seven months pregnant, but from the side – let’s just say, it was gonna be a real big boy. “Honey, what did I say?” Eddie calls out, walking over to her and taking the pitcher. “It’s not even heavy,” she chides back with an exasperated eye roll. You giggle at their bickering, listening to their sweet back and forth with a gentle ache in your chest. You wonder if Steve will be the same way when you’re pregnant. You wonder if the back and forths will sound so sweet, so innocent, so soft. Your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the cooler opening, turning to look and grab what you can to put in the fridge inside. Steve takes the meat out to put by the grill and a few appetizers that you put together last nice. You take the icebox cake and chocolate covered strawberries, hurrying with them through the sliding door into the kitchen. “I know, mommy just thinks she can do it all,” Eddie coos, resting his hands on Nancy’s stomach while she slices cheeseburger toppings on the counter, “She just won’t rest, are you gonna be like that too? You gonna run me ragged? You gonna be just like mommy?” Nancy laughs and it’s half airy, half from deep in her belly, “Look, it’s just better if I’m active so that I’m not surprised by it when he’s born.” “I know,” he says, kissing her cheek, “I know. You still love me, Wheeler?” “Love you always,” she grins, blushing when she sees you come in with desserts, “Oh! Oh my goodness, let me help you!” “I got it!” you say, “Just hope there’s room in the fridge!” When everything’s loaded up you give each other a hug, watching as Eddie and Steve have a mildly stern conversation about who is grilling what. ‘It’s my grill.’  ‘And? It’s my meat.’ 

“Do you think they should just kiss?” you ask while you watch them. “Honestly, I feel like they need to at this point," she laughs, "Go on outside, I’ll be out in a few,” Nancy encourages and you make your way back out into the very early summer heat – mugginess starting to soak the air around you. Before you know it, you’re already being pulled over to the picnic table to watch a game of Magic the Gathering between Lucas, Max, Dustin, Mike, and Will. El doesn’t come back to Hawkins very much,so you’ve been told – she’s the only person from the group you haven’t met. “So is this like D&D?” you ask, resting your cheek against your palm while you lean on the table. “Yes and no,” Max explains, looking at her options, “It’s like…” “Like poker but D&D,” Dustin says, making Mike, Will, and Lucas snort. “I think that’s the easiest way to explain it to you,” Mike says. “I trust that,” you laugh with them. You’ve been consistently hopeless with trying to learn the mechanics of Dungeons and Dragons but still enjoy watching, loving it more when Steve decides to join a campaign. He lets loose in ways you’ve never seen when he does, smiling and laughing, free like a child in the summertime. The sun beating on your back suddenly disappears when you hear Steve come up behind you with a hand on your shoulder, “Can I have my glasses, honey?” “They’re in the glove box,” you say, turning around, “Why do you need them?” “Oh, is Erica making you read her thesis outline?” Lucas asks, “Just tell her to buzz off. She already passed it in.” “Sinclair – don’t be an asshole,” Steve gives him a look that can only be described as ‘bitchy’, “She wants some assurance. We need another psychologist in the family, and she’s obviously the only one smart enough to get it done.” “Rude,” Max deadpans, flicking her eyes up at him. “You’re rude, twerp,” he says back, he turns back to you after sucking his teeth, "My glasses?"

“I just said, in the glovebox,” you repeat, a little sharper than you meant to. He lets out a huff through his nose, looking at you like he can’t believe you’d get snippy with him before stomping off toward the gate of the yard. “Is he alright?” Dustin asks quietly, “I saw him on Thursday he just…I don’t know, he seems a little tense.” “He had a bad night,” you explain, toying at a splinter in the wood, “He’ll be okay.” The sun disappears again but not from the expanse of your fiance’s shoulders and chest, but from a thick cloud moving slowly across the sky. The relief from the heat is almost welcomed until you feel the humidity raise a bit in the air – a little too tight, a little too suffocating for your taste. 

The party is in full swing while Meredith Brooks’ ‘Bitch,’ blares from the boom box, Nancy and Max screaming the lyrics with abandon while the boys groan. You smile at how much fun they’re having, the afternoon going smoothly enough that you haven’t had time to notice how cloudy the sky had become. Your eyes linger on Steve, glasses on while looking at Erica’s thesis outline with her on the back porch. He had a pen in one hand and a cigarette in the other, the fifth one in the last hour and a half.  "You got something here," he says to her, tapping his pen while continues reading, "Your argument's really strong -- especially about the rates of homelessness, it's almost always trauma related." "Well -- I am me," she says. He raises his brows and nods in agreement. "Can't spell America without Erica," he teases. You watch him, how gentle he is and how he taps through outline, asking her questions about how she feels about the finished thesis, where she got it bound, if the articles he sent over were helpful. They speak in words you don't understand, but it's okay -- he looks calmer, brows softened while they talk, so encouraging. "I'm a bitch, I'm a lover, I'm a child, I'm a mother, I'm a sinner, I'm a saint, I do not feel ashamed --"

Eddie's rasp pierces the groups singing and conversation as he belts the lyrics next to his wife. Everyone looks up to watch him go, laughing as he does. "We should cover this," he grins, "Me and the guys, we gotta cover this at the next show." "So you can get boo'd off the stage?" Mike laughs. "So I can make sure your ass doesn't get in the bar?" he asks back. Mike scowls while Dustin laughs at him -- it's always smarter to not try it with Eddie, he'd always get you back ten fold. With a jolt, you feel something cold hit your hand, looking down to see a water drop splat against your skin. Then another, and another, and another. After the fourth or fifth, the rain starts to come down -- and then it starts to pour. "Alright!" Nancy calls, "Everyone grab something and head inside." The Party rises, wincing as the rain pellets down on them while everyone grabs a foil tray or covered Pyrex filled with food. You follow suit, hurrying inside with the undressed cheeseburgers and buns, laying them safe on the counter in the kitchen. Everyone else starts to file in, Steve and Eddie turning off the grill while the sky starts to darken significantly. The first rumble of thunder sends everyone's face to a flat line -- you wished Robin wasn't spending the weekend in New York City so that you'd have someone on the front lines with you and Nancy to keep everyone at ease. Nancy and Robin definitely had their moments but had a much tighter grasp on the world around them now.

A few flashes of lightening crack followed by deep rumbles of thunder. Boom, crack! Boom, crack, crack! You notice everyone resettle themselves around the kitchen table -- jittery, quiet. You sit down across from Steve while he looks down, following the woodgrain with his finger. You keep your gaze on his chest, watching for a tell -- he swallows the frustration he feels from having your eyes on him. "It's alright guys, just a storm," Nancy reminds everyone gently while she brings in the last of the food from outside. Eddie gets her seated before opening things back on the counter, the kitchen smelling like barbecue while he opens the foils. The conversations start around you again while you sit across from Steve, the tension sitting like a weighted stone in your chest. Another flash of lightning and that's when you notice it, the twitch of his hand. The thunder rumbles and he reaches up to rub his eyes with his thumb and forefinger under his glasses. Shit. "You okay, honey?" you ask him softly. He swallows, jaw clenching, "Mhm." "Okay," you nod, trying not to bring attention to it just yet, just incase it passes. The thunder booms again and he lets out a breath through his nose, he takes his glasses off and rubs his eyes more agressively. You tap your foot under the table and he can hear it, he can hear everything in the room -- the scrapes of foil on foil. The separate conversations. Eddie's laugh while he talks to Nancy. The clinks of silverware. Ice in cups. The drumming of fingers. Your tap. Tap. Tap. Tapping. Under the fucking table could you just stop tapping your fucking foot -- The next crack of lightening is so intense it shakes the house and everyone gets quiet. 'Just a storm', Nancy reminds, but her voice sounds far away. Thunder rumbles again in the distance and he swears when the lightening flashes through the windows it's red. He rubs his eyes again, a short burst of breath coming through his nose. 'Honey?' he hears you but its like he has cotton in his ears. The thunder rumbles again, the slick squelching of vines starts to creep into the sound of it. Another crack of lighting and the lights in the kitchen flicker. But when they turn back on Steve isn't with the group anymore. He's not even in the kitchen. He's back at the Creel House. 'Baby? Steve?' your voice is distant -- does Vecna have you? Did he find you? Is he taking you away from him? Steve whimpers, getting out of the chair, pulling at the roots of his light brown locks -- desperate to pull himself out of the memory, "Help, please..."

"I'm here, Steve," you say rounding the table while the rest of the group stands back, getting ready to help. Max grabs a boom box and Lucas runs to his car to grab his tapes with everyone's favorite songs on it -- just in case. Dustin approaches him slowly, hands out in front of him while Steve shrinks to the floor, back against the cabinets. "Steve, it's me, it's Dustin," he says calmly and slowly, "You're in Eddie's kitchen, Steve." But Steve only hears Dustin saying his name -- Dustin must be in trouble. "I'm coming," Steve says, eyes shut tight, falling further away. You watch as sweat grows on his hair line and neck, muttering a fuck under you breath. This was gonna be a bad one. "Honey, honey," you continue, kneeling down in front of him to ease his hands off of his hair, "You're okay, you're safe. I'm with you." 'Honey.' He hears your voice in the distance, searching for you in the blue black haze of the Upside Down, the thick particles of dust in his eyes. The slither of vines covers the walls and the floors while he ascends the stairs -- where are Nancy and Robin? Weren't they with him? "Nance?" You watch him call out for Nancy and she goes to get up but Eddie puts his hand delicately on her shoulder. He shakes his head no at her, "Just talk to him," he says to her. 'I'm here, Steve, it's okay!' 'It's okay!' But it's not Nancy's voice, it gets more an more deep, more gravelly, more like him. Steve flinches in front of you, soft 'no, no, no's slipping from his mouth. 'Stevie...' Where are you? Does he have you? 'S̷T̴E̶V̴I̷E̵.'

The sound of Vecna's voice booms in his ears, the thunder rumbling, the red lighting flashing to light up the house. You were never here -- Vecna tricked him. He breathes hard, looking around while the vines snake around, searching for him. "Okay, okay baby," you say hurriedly, watching him while he starts to hyperventilate. You raise your voice to get through to him, "Honey you gotta take some deep breaths for me, okay? Can you hear me?" Max and Lucas come back, smacking the tape into the radio and fastforwarding until Marc Cohn's Walking In Memphis crackles through the speakers. They both heave breaths while the song plays, leaning over the table to settle down from running. "You hear the song, honey?" you ask, "Can you hear it? Talk to me, Steve." You reach your hands up, sliding slowly up his chest to rest your hands by his jaw in a soothing touch. But for Steve in the Creel House, the vines have found him, slithering up his chest and around his neck, tighter and tighter against the wall. He tenses, big hands coming up and grabbing your wrists with a grip so tight you whimper. "No, shit, shit, shit! Fuck! STOP! NO! I CAN'T!" he panics, gasping for breath while his nails dig into your forearms and drag painfully downward why he tries to pull you away. "Ow, ow baby, hey, you're hurting me," you yelp out. He doesn't stop, eyes switching from tightly closed to open and unfocused while he reaches up to your biceps, clawing at them in defense. You reach out a final time. "Honey, honey, please, it's me," you say, tears balancing on your lower lashes while he rises, taking you with him. He handles you real rough, grabbing you by the shoulders and throwing you to the ground with a loud thud. And god does it hurt.

"HEY!" Eddie's voice booms out, gruff and loud like the rumbles of thunder outside. He gets behind Steve, pulling his arms close to his chest while Steve struggles against him. Erica and Mike hurry toward you to help you slowly up off the floor. You reel at first, wanting to run back to him. "Stay in front of her Wheeler," Ed warns, "You all stay right there." You stand behind Mike with Erica who takes your hand tightly in hers. You feel the pulse of pain in your arms when you look down -- gouges and deep scrapes, the blood shines in the line of the kitchen. You shake your head out of it and watch on as Eddie and Dustin do what they can to help -- the song continues to play in the background. "No, no," Steve whimpers, twisting his wrists in Eddie's grasp to break free, but in this state Eddie is stronger. He pulls him close, Steve back to his chest while they sink back down against the cabinets. "Shh," Eddie soothes, still holding him tight, "We got you, just listen -- you're in my kitchen. You hear the song playing?" Steve grunts, thrashing while Eddie hugs him tighter to him. "Steve, listen, listen to the song," Dustin says, "Focus on me and Eddie's voice, listen." Steve struggles, less intense than before, "Shh, shh, it's okay Harrington," Eddie soothes, rocking him slowly back and forth. "They need me," Steve cries weakly, breaths slowing while he pulls again at Eddie's hold, "Gotta save 'em..." "Steve," Dustin says again, getting closer. He rubs his shoulder slowly, pressing his thumb into the joint, "We're safe, all the kids are safe." "Safe..." he repeats back. Eddie sighs a little in apprehensive relief, letting go of one wrist to run a hand over his head, turning Steve's face into his chest and holding him close. "That's right, Steve," Eddie says softly, "Safe." 'Saw the ghost of Elvis, on Union Avenue, Followed him up to the Gates of Graceland And they watched him walk right through...' Steve can hear the lyrics, warbled and tinny in the Upside Down. 'Safe, safe, safe.' Echoing through the walls -- it gets dimmer. 'Now security they did not see him, They just hovered round his tomb...' Dimmer and dimmer. 'Almost over buddy, I can tell, we're right here. You feel Henderson?' A soft warm rub on his shoulder, the lyrics to the song, Eddie's voice. The sound of vines fade away, he hears the rain, it fades to black. "Walkin' in Memphis..." Steve whispers, half confused, while his eyes open and focus -- squinting in the light of the kitchen. Overwhelmed he looks around while the room tilts on it's axis. He grips Eddie's leg tightly to steady himself, he's breaths picking up again. "It's okay buddy, it's just us," Eddie says again, "You with me?" Steve nods, face cracking while he lets out a broken sob. You can only watch while Eddie flicks his eyes up at you in another warning to not come closer yet. Dustin let's go while Eddie starts to hoist him up, wrapping Steve's arm around his shoulder while he helps him to the guest room down the hall. "C'mon big boy," he says gently, "Let's get you some rest."

Things feel a little quiet after Eddie comes back from the guest room, he's tense -- no longer having fun the way he was before. His eyes are dark while he heads outside into the rain to have a cigarette. Lucas turns off the stereo and The Party sits back down at the kitchen table for a moment to decompress. They silently take out of the Magic the Gathering cards and start to set up again, Erica joins them seamlessly. When things seems a semblance of stable, Nancy gets up and takes your hand and leads you to the bathroom, "Let's check you out, alright?"

You sit on the toilet seat cover while Nancy takes out a first aid kit from under the sink. You listen while she hums the climax of Whitney's 'I Have Nothing' quietly, searching the medicine cabinet for some Bactine for your cuts.

"Are you okay?" she asks, taking both of your hands to outstretch your arms, she turns them to see the damage -- she tries to hide her face of disappointment but it's clear.

"I'll be fine," you say softly while she wipes down the gouges and scrapes, "I can take care of it Nance."

"No, you just -- just let me," she says softly. The Bactine stings -- so does the way she looks at you -- pitifully. You hear Eddie's boots clomp down the hallway before he shows up at the door frame of the bathroom.

"You okay, sweetheart?" he asks -- you wish people would stop asking. They only ask when they see him lose control. You do this all the time, you take care of him all the time.

"I'm okay," you repeat, "A little banged up, but y'know. It's okay."

"Does he do that alot?" Eddie asks, his jaw clenching, "Does he hurt you a lot?"

"This is one of maybe...I don't know -- four times he's gotten physical with me during an episode," you explain, "And you all know about them."

"Does he hurt you when he's here?" Eddie asks, tapping at his temple.

"No, Ed, don't be ridiculous," you sigh, exasperated that he'd even ask.

"Steve's not like that, Eddie," Nancy says, "We've been over this." "Well, here's the thing Nance," he starts, tense, "We're ten years out of this shit and no matter how bad my shit got I've never put a hand on you like that. Ever." "Eddie --" "No, no, listen," he says, "I don't like that, and I especially don't like that happening in my house in front of my pregnant wife." "And what would you like me to do about it, Ed?" you snap, "I can't -- fuck -- I can't fucking fix him for you." "I'm not asking you to fix him," he says back, a pain deep in his chest coming through with his voice, "I'm asking you to be sure that you still want to be a part of this -- your wedding's what -- October? You really wanna be worrying about this?" "For better or for worse, right?" you ask back, choking on the lump in your throat, "That's the promise." Eddie tucks his lips in, his own eyes getting teary while he scans the gouges that Nancy carefully puts bandaids over. "Ice your hip and shoulder for the first couple days," he mutters, biting the edge of his them, "After a fall like that. Then heat." You nod, quietly murmuring a thank you. "S'what my mom used to do," he says under his breath. Eddie scans you slowly one more time, swallowing hard before pushing off the door frame and walking back down the hall. You hear their bedroom door click closed in the distance. "You know how he gets," Nancy says, "Stuff like that y'know -- that's hard for him." "I know." She takes a washcloth, running it under cold water before squeezing it out. Droplets fall on the fabric of her light purple maternity shirt, leaving dark people marks on the top of her belly. She hands it to you. "Here, for his head," she says softly, "In case he's not all the way back yet."

You creep slowly into the guest room, seeing him laying on his stomach with half his face buried in the pillow. His sculpted arms tucked under it to give him something to hold. "Baby?" you ask quietly, "You awake?" He nods with his eyes closed and you look him over -- big hulking man who needs to be held. He hates it but you can't help but love him for knowing he needs it. You put the wet face cloth on the side table, sliding down next to him while he moves over to his side. In one swift motion you've replaced the pillow -- arms wrapping tight around your waist and up your back, one hand molding over your shoulder. He hides his face in your neck and you can feel his tears on his lashes and cheeks. His shoulders shake while he cries for a while, cold sweat damp on his shirt and the back of his neck. You never check how long he cries for – as long as he does. “I’m here,” you say softly, nails grazing his scalp in a steady swipe, “I’m right here.” You adjust a bit in his hold and you feel his grip tighten slightly, a soft whine of desperation leaking from his throat. “Don’t go, please,” he begs softly. “M’not going anywhere big guy,” you soothe, “This wedding’s already put us ten grand in the hole. Where would I even go, now?” You hear a soft ‘tsss’ come out of him, a tug of a smile against the skin of your neck where he hides. 

“Oh, is that funny?” you joke, still coasting your fingers through his hair. He groans, letting his arms let go of you so he can sit up, you can see the tension in his body still. Steve looks down at you with tear stained cheeks and tired eyes, beckoning you forward with his fingers. You sit up for your thank you kiss, his warm palm cupping your cheek while he holds you gently in place. He kisses once slowly, then twice, three times – holding the last so you know he means it. When you break away he rests his forehead against yours, offering a few shallow breaths. You stand up off the bed while he sits off the edge of it, standing between his thighs. 

"Did I hurt you?" he asks softly. He asks after every episode ever since he did hurt you back when you first started dating. A swift smack to the arm that stung for a solid twenty minutes afterward with the amount of power he put into it. It welted. He cried for hours. He wrote you love letters every day for a week. 

You nod, showing him the scratches and bandages on your arms, "I think you thought I was a vine or something. You threw me. Like, to the ground. It was pretty hard."

His lower lip quivers, "No, no, no." “No, Steve,” you assure, trying to calm him, “It’s okay, you didn’t know. It’s alright, I’m alright. It was an accident.” 

His face contorts while the tears start again, his big hands reach out to your waist, pulling you close to him, "It's not okay, it's not alright."

His voice raises an octave while he cries, "I'm sorry, baby."

"It's okay, Stevie, shh," you whisper to him, he pulls you in tighter, body shaking while pressing his nose against your cheek.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he cries, sniffling, "You know I didn't mean it."

"I know you didn't," you say back, your own cry getting caught in your throat. He sniffles again, leaning back to face you, both of his hands cupping your cheeks, his thumbs rubbing the apples.

"I love you," he says with a depth and intensity that makes the lump in your throat give way. You cry with him and it breaks his heart, "I love you so much honey, you know I’d never…"

You nod, trying to calm your cry the way he was able to calm his -- so used to swallowing it up even though you'd beg him not to.

"I – shit – I have to tell you something," he says softly, hands sliding from your cheeks back down to your waist and then your hips. He looks down at the small triangle of mattress between you and the apex of his thighs.

"What's up, Steve?" you ask, running your hands through his hair again soothingly, "What is it?"

He lifts his head up, eyes shutting at the comforting touch, but when he opens them he looks defeated -- guilty, "I haven't been taking my meds at night. I was -- was flushin’ them cause I just -- baby, I don't know. I can't keep depending on this shit."

"Steve."

"I know," he nods, "I know...That's why -- that's why my shit's getting worse."

"You're not just taking this stuff to take it," you say, cupping his cheeks, "It's to keep you here. It's to keep you with me."

"I know," he repeats, voice cracking again, "I'll call my shrink tomorrow I promise. I'll get back on track. Fuck -- I'm sorry -- and I'm -- I'm sorry I was so mean to you this morning."

"It's okay," you nod, pressing a kiss to his forehead. You drop your hands and rub his shoulder, "I think we should go home, alright? We can get on the couch for the night and just rest."

"Okay," he says quietly, nodding. He slowly gets up off the bed, a little dizzy, using you for support. You both slowly walk out of the bedroom, Nancy peeking around the end of the hall.

"Everything good?" she asks.

You smile at her, "Yeah, I think we're gonna head home."

She smiles tightly, heading into the kitchen where the rest of the group still sits, eating and talking. Their heads turn when you both come into view -- soft eyes and smiles.

"I'm okay, guys," Steve nods, barely able to meet their gazes, "It's fine."

Nancy approaches you with a few tupperwares filled with food and dessert, "We'll get the cooler back to you on Tuesday."

"Don't worry about it," you smile, gathering the tupperware in your arms. You watch as the group gets up one by one to give Steve a hug goodbye. Their movements are slow and controlled, warning touches on his shoulders beforehand to remind him ‘It’s just me, it’s just my arms, I’m hugging you’. Soft mumbled words of support, nothing too loud – don’t startle each other. Wraiths of the friendship they all shared earlier. Rehearsed reactions to all of their sensitive needs – if you’ve seen one episode, you’ve seen all of theirs. And you had, once or twice. “I’ll get a copy bound for you,” Erica says while she hugs him. “You make me so proud, Sinclair,” he smiles. Nancy walks you both to the door and you turn, “How’s Ed?” “He’ll call later,” she nods, a look behind her eyes that matches yours. You hug goodbye, share quick reminders about food for the baby shower and a few crafty decoration plans before heading to the car with a very tired Steve. The rain patters on the hood of the Lexus while you both sit in the leather interior, this time with you in the driver's seat. He rubs at his temples with his eyes closed while you rifle through your purse for a sandwich baggie of emergency migraine medicine. “Here,” you say, handing him the pill, “Before it starts to get bad.” “Hmm,” he grumbles in agreement, popping it in his dry mouth to suck it down.  “We’ll be home soon, okay?” you say, hand coming down on his thigh reassuringly, “Just close your eyes for now.” 

He takes the tupperwares when you get out of the car, fishing his keys out of his back pocket while he does. His strides are long while you hurry up behind him, following him into the house only to bump into his back while he’s stopped by the thermostat to turn on the air. “Sorry,” you say softly. “S’okay,” he replies back, barely above a whisper. He puts the food in the fridge while you head upstairs to start a shower, a ritual you’ve both come to learn well after days or nights like these. You take out the good soap, the shower oil, all the aroma therapy you can to get him to ease up. Anyone else watching you get things ready would assume it was about to be a very sexy time for you. On the same coin, these showers are probably the most intimate moments you have with each other. He comes in as the room starts to steam and you help him ease off his polo, you start on the buttons of your dress while he takes off his jeans and socks. He helps with your bra, both of you shedding your underwear at the same time before you step in. Steve soothes almost instantly, his muscles relaxing under the hot stream, sighing further while he gets soaped up. You don’t have to be in there with him, but you do. He needs you so close so he doesn’t float away. His favorite part comes near the end, sitting in the flow of the shower together while you wash his hair. His eyes flutter closed while your nails scratch and massage him – he swears his hair is even thicker than it was before with all the blood flow you encourage. You wash his hair twice, then deep condition, holding him to your chest while you wait the five minutes it takes to settle in. He leaves soft kisses on your collar bone, on all the marks he left on you in Nance and Eddie's kitchen. He holds your hand, so you can’t float away. You both end up on the couch afterward, the leather groaning beneath you both while you lay across the deep seat cushions, you lay on your back, he lays on his side against you. The heat of his bare chest warms you through your oversized sleep shirt. His soft sweat pants tangle up with your bare legs. You let whatever’s on TV play – reruns you guess, you’re thinking about too many other things. “How’s your head, baby?” you ask while his eyes shut, leaning on your shoulder. “S’fine, better,” he says, he lifts your hand and kisses your fingers before placing both his and your hand on your chest over your heart. The ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dum lulling him to sleep. You half watch TV for however long until your own eyelids get heavy. You click off the TV and opt to turn the stereo on low, just so he doesn’t get lost while he sleeps.

You wake up to oldies, music your parents would listen to on records in the living room growing up – songs that came out a few years before you were born. Oldies. It's dark outside but you can still hear the rain. Steve’s already awake, just watching you while his hand smooths back and forth over your sternum. “You snored,” he says. “Good,” you reply quietly. You both snort out breathy laughs, feeling the warmth of his lips as they smoosh against your cheek. “How you feeling?” he asks, hand coming up to rest on your cheek, sliding down the side of your neck. “A little banged up,” you say, “Might bruise.” “M’sorry,” he says again, a tinge of guilty pink tinging his ears. “It’s okay,” you repeat for what feels like the thousandth time in the past six hours. “You looked really pretty today,” Steve says gently, almost sheepish, “I should’ve told you.” “You looked really handsome,” you say back, “But you were kind of being an asshole so I didn’t want to tell you.” “You should’ve told me, it probably would’ve cured my PTSD,” he says seriously but sarcastically, “Could’ve saved the entire afternoon if you just said how good I looked. Prob’ly wouldn’t have had an episode.” “You’re such an ass,” you laugh, smiling. He leans in to kiss you and it’s the kind that makes you too weak to stand. That kiss got him a second date, it proved that they said about old King Steve in highschool. On the stereo, Sherry Baby bleeds into Unchained Melody.

His hand reaches up under your neck to tilt you up toward him, tasting your tongue with his, guiding you with his kiss, “Angel…” he murmurs. He breathes through his nose while he keeps his lips pressed to yours, desperate to stay here in this moment, attached to you. “Steve,” you say softly, breaking away, “Stevie…” “Please,” he whispers, nuzzling your nose slowly, “Please.” “Lemme take care of you.” “I…” your thoughts trail off while he kisses your neck, sucking and nibbling gently at the spot just by the hinge of your jaw. He waits for your soft sigh, the tilt of your hips towards him – your allowance. He grins when he hears the air pass your lips, the realignment of your spine beneath him while he settles between your squishy thighs. His hands travel south, pushing up the hem of your big t-shirt to your waist, holding you there for a moment while his kiss takes over your mouth again. He tugs your cotton panties down, breaking the kiss while he sits up on the couch to slide them off your ankles. Steve looks down at you with an expression that makes your breath catch in your chest, serious – with supple lips, needy eyes. He leads himself back down again, big hands sliding down the sides of your thighs over your hips to your waist again. Instinctively, your legs spring up to wrap around him while his hips align with yours, feeling his strained cock in his sweats against you. “Jesus…” he whispers again, eyes fluttering closed. He buries his face in your neck while you rock slowly against him, the pressure and friction against the underside of his erection sending low volts through his body. “Mm-mm,” he grunts, shaking his head ‘no’ while mumbling, “It’s supposed to be about you.” “Well stop dangling it in front of me then,” you giggle quietly, he giggles too. The smile sends you reeling, his pretty teeth, the way his nose scrunches. He leans forward again to kiss, he just can’t stop kissing, can’t stop tasting your lips, feeling you against him. Steve’s hand reaches down to pull himself out of his sweats, pushing the waistband to the tops of his thighs while he uses the other to push one thigh out off the couch. “You ready f’me?” he asks huskily, tip dragging slowly from the pool of slick at your opening up in between your folds. He lets his thumb run in slow circles over your clit while he waits for your answer, your slow nod while you lean your head back on the arm rest gives him the okay. He eases himself in slow, the tip pushing past your opening with some resistance. “Open up a lil’, honey,” he mumbles quietly while he guides the tip in again, “Open up for me.”

Your little gasps float out of you and into the fuzzy part of his brain, gliding down his spine. You angle your hips upward, one thigh up against the couch cushions and the other dangling over the edge, spread as wide as you can. He holds himself above you with one arm, the other aiding in pushing himself further in, the tip finally breaching your core. He keeps guiding, slow back and forths while you ease open for him – taking him in, inch by inch. “Oh yes, mhm,” he groans to himself softly, “Thass–hmm-that’s it, angel.” He let’s go when he’s three fourths in, crowding over you, forearms on each side of your head while he strokes slowly to start – getting you used to him, accommodating his size. “That’s good?” he breathes. “Ye-yeah,” you breathe back to him. His mouth latches to yours again, feeling him guide your hands up beside your head, lacing fingers while he presses you deeper into the couch cushions. He keeps his strokes slow and deliberate, feeling every ridge of you inside, how you suck him in and hug him tight in place – but how he feels isn’t nearly as important. It’s the way your brows contort, the way you bite your lip, your whines into his mouth while he kisses you. Each slow thrust makes you coat him in a new flow of slickness. “C’mere,” he says into your jawline, letting go of one hand to sneak behind you at the waist, pulling you flush to him. The new angle makes you let out a whine while he hits a spot deep inside you, he grunts at the reaction, the feeling of you taking him in. His pace picks up the smallest tick, face centimeters from yours – your noses brush, lips barely touching while his amber eyes keep steady on yours. You let out short huffs, little whimpers every time the head of his cock pushes deeper with every roll of your hips. “S’nice, hm?” he asks, brows slanting, softening. “Mhm,” you squeak back, “S-so good, honey.” Your legs pull in again, socked heels resting on the top of his butt while he sighs at the change in pressure. “Thassperfect, god,” he hisses out, head dropping down to your chest, pressing sloppy kisses above your breasts while he gathers himself. He groans into your neck while wet warmth tightens over him, soft velvet walls coaxing him closer and closer to the edge. 

Steve’s shoulders flex while he balances on his forearms above you again, your forgotten hand taken by his, fingers interlocked. His face inches from yours while he looks at you, the way your eyes flutter, the soft parting of your lips, the high pitched  ‘Uhn, uhn, uhn, uhn,’s coming out of them — you’re so beautiful.

“So pretty,” he says to you, huffing a breath into a smile, “So pretty, baby.” 

You kiss him a thank you. You see him swallow when he breaks away, his eyes getting glassy. 

“S’gonna be okay,” he assures, nodding down at you, nose to nose, “We’re gonna be okay.” Slow thrusts  between statements. 

“Gonna get married,” he says, a groan flowing right down into your mouth while he kisses you, “Gonna be just like Ed and Nance, right?” 

You nod while his thrusts get more passionate, deeper.

“Yeah? That’s nice?” he asks, “Marry you? Take you just like this after the wedding?” 

“Yeah,” you gasp back, “Yes, Stevie.” 

“Give you a baby?” he asks in a low whisper into your skin, lips pressing against your cheek, his strong nose dragging against your cheek bone, “Give you so many babies. You want that?” 

“I want that,” you nod, face pinching while you feel yourself building up and up in a slow churn. 

“You want that?” he asks again, coming back to hover over you — tears in his eyes, “You want that with me?” 

You nod to each other while he embraces you in an old movie kiss, wrapping himself around you, pressing him to his chest while his thrusts get purposeful, controlled. 

“I love you,” he pants into your ear, “I’m yours, m’all yours.”

“I love you, too,” you rasp back, free’d fingers interlocking in his hair. He gets leverage on his knees, the leather of the couch squeaking under him while he repositions. Soft smacks of skin between you echo in the living room against the backdrop of the low stereo.   “Oh my god, Steve,” you moan out, “You’re – oh god you’re so deep.” “So deep, angel, Christ–” he huffs, trying to make a mental note of this position so he can remember it for October – really make it stick. His thought process stifled when your nails drag down his back, making his passionate thrusts quicken – a signature cocky smirk flick across his lips. “Mmm, that feels good honey?” he asks – he knows the answer. Your mouth hangs open in a silent scream, tears glazing over your eyes while he feels you pulse over him. Thank god the couch was leather. Watching you bathe in the afterglow of your orgasm he works you toward the second with ease, chasing his pleasure with each soaking thrust into you – so nice like this, so pliant – his little ragdoll. When he cums it’s deliberate, spilling inside you with your eyes on each other. You give one another breathless kisses, bodies interlocked, sticking to the couch in new found exhaustion. The phone rings. Neither of you get up to answer it. ‘BEEP. You’ve reached the Harrington residence – Did you forget my last name isn’t Harr– If you’re calling before October 1997 then it’s not just the Harrington residence yet but – whatever you know what I mean. Leave a message, we might call ya back.’

“Hey Harrington it’s Munson, um, just making sure you’re okay, man. Sorry I disappeared for a little bit there. Love you, call me back when you can. Bye.” 

thanks for reading. <3

[blueathn]

Obligatory coffee shop au art

Close-ups and ramblings under the cut because I spent waaay too long on this

Welcome to my brain soup.

Disclaimer, I didn’t really plan this piece and just kept adding concepts as I went, so it’s kind of all over the place. It’s more a big patchwork of dumb ideas I got excited over, rather than a well thought-out drawing, but I like it as it is! It feels like my brain did when I was reading htn :]

1. The whole concept behind this is just "Vintage coffee ad but make it the griddlehark coffee shop au". I was aiming for cheerful but also not quite right, in a very stock photo kind of way if that makes sense. Gideon is smiling but she is not a willing participant in this. Also that coffee is cold.

I - very predictably - took inspiration from Leyendecker’s work, since his ads and posters are the first that come to my mind when I think "vintage ad", and also because I do feel like his painting technique is close to how I naturally paint. This is not meant to be a study of his style tho, I didn’t try to break it down on more than a very superficial level.

2. 3. Nothing special to say, just Gideon’s arms (her perfect biceps are hidden from view lest they cause a riot in the cafeteria). Also arm hair. I feel like it’s becoming a recurring feature in my art lol

4. I debated whether or not to add a foam skull on the coffee then ultimately decided against it. That’s one skull too many, and honestly Gideon neither has the skill nor the patience to attempt one. Let’s be real, if they let her have access to the pitcher she’d make tits. So here is your tits-free coffee, courtesy of the Cohort photoshop editors.

5. Isaac, sporting the Fourth’s blue not only in dress but also in his questionnable choice of eye makeup. They have matching haircut only so Jeanne can showcase how much better it looks on her.

6. This is where I finally have something clever-ish to say. Thoughts ! I have them ! Sometimes. So. Harrow. You can’t see it but she has a nose piercing as well - this is relevant to spreading my agenda that Harrow is full of bone (piercings, that is). Sue me, I forgot that they let her keep her face paint in this scene. Onto the actual thought process.

This is where Abigail interrupts the scene, before Harrow can catch a glimpse of barista!Gideon. Her interruption is shown by the unfinished look of this panel : the sketch lines peeking through (in a reddish hue, to mimic sanguine, the red chalk that artists used to draw sketches and studies - and also because the contrast of the colors makes it pop better against her skin) + the rendering is messier from the neck and down.

Abigail is blocking half of Harrow from view - I wanted to have her hide Harrow’s eyes and thus line of sight entirely, but I feared Harrow wouldn’t be as recognizable with more than half her face hidden, frowny eyebrows and all.

Abigail herself is meant to look out of place here, without taking too much attention away from Gideon. I drew her in a much simpler style, using a more monochromatic palette and cell shading, to contrast against the rest of the gang, where I used a lot more color variation and a more detailed & textured painting style.

That’s about all I have on this, if you got this far thank you! Your support is much appreciated. If you liked this drawing I’d be overjoyed if you reblogged it and left your thoughts in the tags/notes! I’m always happy when I read them, even just a "#nice" makes my day.

[akarisandraws]

What's your big opinion on every Sonic character don't skip any detail

Dude, do you know how many sonic characters are there?

Like a lot. So im gonna keep it on the main ones LOLL

Maybe i'll add to this tho. We'll see.

HERE WE GO!!

Sonic: He's my favourite character of all times! Such a funky fella. I love his way of thinking, (as in everyone deserves second chances and freedom is important) and of acting, with the whole attitude. He gives me a sense of freedom that i haven't felt from any other media at all! Its quite impressive honestly. I could write pages upon pages on how Sonic as a character is like the peak of literature in my eyes, but this post would get way too long. In summary tho, i like almost every aspect of Sonic the Character.

Tails: The baby! I also really love tails! I think his role as a sideckick is very endearing, and is a great balance to sonic in all possible ways. One problem with modern Tails, though. He's portrayed as a coward. And like??? That's not who he is?? Like C'mon sega.

Knuckles: He don't chuckle!! Final part of team Sonic, and Sonic's first rival! I really like the knucklehead. But as is the norm, Sega screwed him up badly on Boom. I despise that they're supposed to be the same Knuckles. Because they're not. I like Boom Knuckles, as his own character, but granted, Boom is an acquired taste.

Amy: Honorary part of team sonic! I love her! Mostly on the IDW Comics. I think they handle her excellently in there. I know that Amy is a hated character by the fanbase because most say that her only purpose is to be the "girl character love interest" and i can agree up to some point in some games, but in IDW she's sooo much better. We stan IDW Sonic.

Shadow: Yet another case of Sega making character assassination. Shadow's like, one of the most complex sonic characters there are, If not THE most complex one. And i love that! Though im very sad that Sega hasn't been able to replicate that SA2 Magic quite as well. Will SonicXShadow (heh) give him justice? Stay tuned.

Rouge: MY GIRL!! Ok so controversial opinion, Rouge's my second favourite sonic character, just because i think its hilarious that she (once) was the leader of team Dark. So She commanded a killing machine and An alien experiment. What a girlboss! 10/10 Character.

Omega: Gotta be honest, not much of an omega fan. But i really like his dynamic w/Rouge and Shadow. It's pretty sweet that they become friens :)

Cream: The other baby! I think she's the sweetest character. Like fr. I really want to see her more often on the games! Though i get why in recent games she hasn't appeared. Suddenly the adventures got way too serious. Still want her back in the games though!

Blaze: Fire princess! I fr am so salty that she isn't as much in the games. Like, what gives? She's such a successful character (With good reason btw) and you arent like, putting her in the stage?? outrageous. But yeah, i really Like Blaze. Her contrast and similarities with sonic are great! They make a great duo too.

Silver: The sweetest most unhinged boi in the sonic canon. I find it very funny that in his first appearance he was all angsty and stuff, but now he's full on optimism and sunshine. I love the juxtaposition on that behalf. Boi is cute but he can mess you up.

The Chaotix: Oh i love the found family trope. Espio's my fave for sure. He's the funny ninja, what else do you want? Though Vector and Charmy are great too. Vector has such a cool ass dad vibe. And Charmy... is Charmy. if yk yk.

AAAAND I think i'll leave it there. Should i include someone else? lmk.

Thanks for the ask!

-Akari

[phxntomhives]

I'm resurrecting from the dead

Did you get the joke? No? Ok

Small analysis of this pic

But I'd like to remind you I am no expert on the topic, it's just my 2 cent lol

End of S4 spoilers + manga spoilers under the cut

I am quite confident this is dedicated to the midnight tea party of the anime right now. His identity has been revealed so what better way to celebrate than such a wonderful art?

The first thing I personally noted is the pose. Our dear yandere pose (I got Yuno war fleshbacks ngl) The smile, the hands, that eye. He has the full pack. We can all agree he goes a little insane when we talk about the Phantomhive... but yandere? I wouldn't say so (at least not yet, tho he may be on the correct road to become it). I guess he is dancing on the line between sanity and insanity and this is just the result of it.

Someone already said the liquid that is falling is tea. But I am also very much reminded of blood when looking at that color (and knowing his story, it also fits). Thought it may be just me. I would also like to point out how the tea is not just spilling over from the teapots, they are breaking. And Undertaker is just staring at the scene with insanity.

I am also going insane about all the hands: there is a right hand holding the sugar bowl. Then there is another right hand, holding a teacup which is also crumbling down. But that teacup is being "filled" of tea, that is dropping from above. Then there is also a left hand on the top, holding the teapot's handle (that is now detached from the main body). And there is a fourth hand, holding the dessert. So, here is my idea: the three hands that are holding the tea set represent 3 of the prefects: if I were to take a guess from here I would say that the broken teapot could be Herman Greenhill (the most broken one since he likely feels worst about the situation since he technically started everything). Then the sugar bowl could be Lawrence Bluewer: it is just being destroyed and has no power in the situation. The broken teacup is Edgar Redmond: he tried to hold it together but in the end he still lost control over the situation. Let me first go to the dessert now, I'll go to the other hand in a second.

The dessert. Listen, I am no expert in those but I know a strawberry when I see one. And I believe that is very much R!Ciel's favourite snack a strawberry cake. So listen, if we can discuss that the hand holding the teacup could be X or Y, here I am quite confident it is just R!Ciel. Not to mention that Undertaker is technically staring at him with the yandere look so it would make sense: he would be staring a Phantomhive AND an almost perfect Bizzare Doll he has created. I would go yandere too ngl. The dessert is being "watered" by the tea, which if I am correct and it does also symbolize blood, it could represent the idea/the begin of the blood transfution to keep R!Ciel alive. AND the dessert is being held by the last hand. Who were we missing of the P4 again? Violet. And who has casually the same blood type of R!Ciel? Violet. So I think this is him.

One last thing I noticed of the hands is that three of them are "in the dark" (both at the top and left one at the bottom: Lawrence, Greenhill and Redmond), while the one in the bottom right (Violet) is a little more illuminated than the others. Does this confirm/imply that Violet does already know a little more than the others? I'll let you make a decision I feel it may be just the light and I am becoming paranoid.

I absolutely LOVE how the background is the midnight flower glowing. It gives such a nice contrast in the picture. It also helps in making undertaker look even more ominous lolol. It's so bright and maybe it stands for everything pure you can think of. But Undertaker has turned his back to that light and is just enjoying the chaos. I am trying to find more stuff about the flower and its meaning let's see if I find something eheh

That is all thanks for bearing with me lol.

On a side note: did he always had that ring "tattoo" on his pinky? I am blind ✨✨

(I may check later for grammar mistaker I am tired now)

[atoriv-art]

I’m deeply in love with your artstyle! What do you headcanon for the Naruto characters appearances and how did you come to that?

thank you!! assuming you mean facial features + body types and the like, it's honestly a very "vibes"-based approach AKSDMKM i wrote down a feeew of my thoughts in [ this post ] (which i doodled as i was still not done watching naruto LMAO) but it's mostly about like.. picking aspects of the character that jump out to me and thinking about how to incorporate that in my interpretation of them, a lot of the time it's their eyes (for example i Adore itachi's stupid prettyboy eyelashes so i knew i wanted to draw those) but it could be just about anything; some examples of my beloved Guys:

with itachi i wanted a 'ghostly' kind of look to him because he is very aloof and distant, i also like having him be Long and Bony for a lack of a better word for the same reason?

with sasuke i wanted a very sweet and earnest "trying to look tough but failing because he's a little guy" vibe, mostly because those are the thoughts that were going thru my brain in any given sasuke scene in our naruto watch

for kakashi i needed his prettyboy charms coupled with his depressed everything

etc! it's hard to convey how/why something comes off a certain way, and that's mostly because imo any given appearance can be used to convey any sort of idea depending on execution! it's not Just "round = friendly and triangle = angry" yk you gotta like. flavor it for the lack of a better word

i'll put the rest under a read more so it's not too long ^^

for more general examples here's my kabuto (yeah i'm a kabuto liker. woe.), konan and nagato

kabuto (esp. in shippuden) has sharper features and i also wanted to go with a face type i'm not AS used to drawing for funsies, i also think the Angles contrast well with his (...stupid...) glasses.

kabuto is an adult but he's still very young esp when we first meet him so when drawing his younger self i'd like to put emphasis on that (especially because he presents himself as friendly), thus the slightly rounder features. by contrast in shippuden he's Going Through Some Things so the spikes in his hair are emphasized and he looks a bit more mature

konan for me sticks out as like, "bold"? not aggressive but very intense if that makes any sense, she's a very serious person and you can tell from the moment you see her, nagato ofc has the rinnegan so his eyes have to be the main feature of his face, and similar to itachi he has a thinner body type... what i wanted with him was similarly a very serious person with a lot of edge to his gaze due to his special dojutsu. and finally on a more subjective level i wanted them to look like they match/belong together because i'm very normal about them ♥

i also enjoy conveying character through how hair is maintained, so for nagato he lets his hair grow kind of however it wants to, konan is more meticulous about hers (tho i forgot to draw her bun in that LOL), and kabuto (given when his design transitions to the shorter hair) i very much picture cutting his in a moment of crisis (pictured below. <3)

there's also always like.. the Fullness of the hair if it makes sense, i enjoy drawing 'fluffier' stereotypical anime hairstyles a lot but i also really like having people like itachi with finer hair and such, i also think varying that between characters gives each a more unique charm :)

one should also note that a lot of the times the physical features are only half the impression, the other half is how they carry themselves and body language conscious And subconscious!

i think in general studying from life will never lead you wrong (even if your style isn't 'realistic', like, mine certainly has anime leanings), and being mindful of what kind of choice/feature you give someone and what you think that implies about them is always important :) the characters i draw are all characters i like so i try to let whatever makes me fond about them have an influence ^^

it's a constant learning process imo i personally find that even if i like how i draw faces Now i often find them wonky like, 6 months later? but i take that less to mean that i drew them Bad and more to mean i've improved lol

[oldsargasso]

You have had your hands full! Don’t worry I have ENDLESS fanon thoughts so I will do my best to keep your ask box company 😌

Yes the advantage of feeding ourselves is we get to pick the menu!! I am CERTAIN at this point that Garfield and Benz simply pulled this ship out of thin air and made up their own headcanons to fill in for their lack of screentime LMAO. And NO YOU HAVE NOT TOLD ME ABOUT THIS WIP!! HOOKUPS FOLLOWED BY BETRAYAL?? BY TONY’S TOTALLY NORMAL PA?? YES PLEASE. I am basically eagerly awaiting everything you write at this point. AND YES KENTA IS INVESTED! How can his new boyfriend keep his visa if the team’s funding gets cut? Tragic.

This is why Kim is the realest to me. He asked for none of this and just rolled with the punches when most ppl would have either kept their heads down or fucked off. Objectively The Best. (SHFKFKFJJD Try telling Kim that Tony is his new owner—see how that goes down 😆)

(You are so right as always. Kim deserves ppl kneeling at his feet.)

Double offenses against us specifically, I’ll never recover. I’LL NEVER FORGIVE THEM IF WE DON’T EVENTUALLY GET SOME SORT OF FOLLOW-THROUGH! But yes supportive bf Kenta, it’s absolutely canon, he was definitely lurking in the stands somewhere.

Winner is so iconic and I love him… (multiple timelines running in our heads to carry all of the five hundred ships this show has provided)

Please give me ALL of your thoughts about collars, I beg of you, I live for this. Kenta would ABSOLUTELY be wearing his on the regular—he needs that reassuring weight under his shirt (totally normal about it saying “Kim’s” or smth similar on the tag). Like he’s fine with being a dog as long as it means he’s a beloved pet who doesn’t get cast aside! And Winner is ABSOLUTELY the type to bitch about a collar. He prob tried to make fun of Kenta for being collared (gets almost stabbed for it), but also passive aggressively moans about “Where’s MY present?” and then bitches about the collar when he DOES get it. And I’m SCREAMING HE DESERVES TO BE MUZZLED he’d be so cute… And Dean would look SO pretty in his collar (when is he NOT pretty tho lbr). PLEASE feel free to go on about what they look like! Kim can carry the keys to the collars around his neck 😌

I HOPE YOU ENJOY THE FICS! The KentaDean one is basically written just for the two of us. “The system works” LMFAO RESTORATIVE JUSTICE IN ACTION? Dean thinks he’s being SUBTLE but he has the BIGGEST puppydog expression when he wants something, like he emotes SO much in comparison to Kenta and Kim.

“He’s not a narcissist he’s just oblivious” ahdjfjf OUR BELOVED DUMBASS LOSER… I love the way he was as Tony’s henchman, like “I’m gonna be SUCH a good evil henchman my parents told me I was basically overqualified for this job—you want bodyguards? I’ll GET you bodyguards. I let those guys escape but I TOTALLY foiled their little scooby-doo plot because I am the BEST henchman. I’m SOOO much better than Kenta you know like fuck that guy and his stupid handsome eyes-“ Again it’s like… he gives himself so much affirmation he doesn’t need it from others; it’s just attention he wants. He’s SO interesting! And I love the contrast of Kim’s response to Tony being “Absolutely NOT” while Winner’s is “Absolutely YES” they should fuck about it, for our enjoyment.

I’M PLACING MY BETS ON THE MV COMING OUT THIS FRIDAY (prob late evening for you?). I think they’ll save the more emotional ones for after the fanmeet next week (unless they’re only doing one MV drop a month in which case haha catch me lying deceased on the floor!) 

HOW COULD YOU BREAK MY POOR LITTLE HEART LIKE THIS?? DEAN HAVING SOMETHING WITH KIM (A FRESH START) ONLY TO END UP FEELING LIKE HE’S BEEN REPLACED… AGAIN… WHY DO WE KEEP PUTTING HIM IN SITUATIONSHIPS AND THEN MAKING HIM FEEL REJECTED. I’M HURTING 😭😭😭 I feel like having Kim’s attention would be so fulfilling? Rewarding? That the slight absence of it is like the sun going out. DEVASTATING (and DELICIOUS for me). But Pete just dropping Kenta off like Kim is running a doggy daycare is hilarious dkfjehshf I have this mental image of Pete carrying Kenta by the scruff of his neck?? And Dean is self-destructing while Kim is just. Unfazed about all of it! Dean wants him to be jealous, meanwhile Kim is like. “It’s physically impossible to be jealous of Winner. But if he hurt you, if he forced you, if you hated it, that’s a different conversation.” I just really need someone going to bat for Dean. There’s something to explore about the difference between possessiveness (what Dean wants or thinks he wants) and protectiveness (what Kim will actually provide).

I will send you five million more words about my ideas once you’ve had a chance to read the fic, since it expounds a lot on what I mentioned before and also just my feelings about our doggies. Also I’ve got like, various heat scenarios to talk about as well! 

honestly Garfield and Benz are throwing themselves into this ship with no reservations. I hope they get cast in another show together clearly they deserve to make out on camera like they want 😌

I'm honestly like. mad about that fic lmao I woke up in the middle of the night and wrote a whole bunch of it in my notes app and then when I woke up the next day I CLOSED THE NOTES WITHOUT SAVING. devastated. have to start from scratch. BUT now I'm like. it would probably work better from Kim's POV? but then I'd have to rewrite this which I really like lol :(

When Mr Tony had told Kenta to organise for Kim to be picked up from the airport and taken to the hotel, he definitely hadn't meant for Kenta to do the chauffeuring himself. But finding the loopholes in Tony's orders was how Kenta managed his life these days, so he was waiting in Arrivals in his usual black suit with a printed sign at 6pm the following Tuesday, surrounded by a group of men attired and be-signed much the same. Which was probably why Kim didn't give Kenta a second glance as he walked up. No big deal; Kenta’s used to being overlooked. “K’Kim?” he asks in polite confirmation, although he recognises Kim very well from the photographs he’s studied. Kim gives him a nod. This time he takes a good look at Kenta, sharp eyes sweeping from his carefully styled hair down to his perfectly shined shoes.

anyway then they go to Kim's hotel room and hook up and it starts from there.

Kim in the last few episodes is the BEST. he's just like "time fro breakfast! sure I'll chase down a teenager for a phone. sure I'll come along and beat up Winner in a funky jacket. sure I'll join your racing team and adopt north and sonic as my babies."

I NEED A FOLLOW UP I NEED A SPECIAL EPISODE OR A SEASON TWO. I hope we get something, even tiny crumbs, from the fanmeeting coming up. until it happens I can live in hope lmao.

!!! NOT THE KEYS THAT'S PERFECT!!! oh for sureee Kenta wears his basically all the time. its definitely black leather, right? he has a day collar something like this. or it says return to owner with Kim's details!! and then he has a more substantial collar for when they're at home, with rings for attaching a leash or ties to. yessss Winner. he doesn't care about it but also he should be given presents especially if other people are getting presents! I feel like his collar is red. probably leather as well. spiked!! or maybe something like a martingale collar so it's fine until someone pulls on it. imagine how pretty something like this would be for Dean though! or was thinking like an actual chain necklace/choker so he can wear it all the time and it's all delicate. I'm just imagining them all at the club or whatever, I think Kim deserves to hook his fingers in Kenta's collar while they're sitting drinking and pull him in until he's practically in Kim's lap. or maybe dancing and Kim tugs Dean's shirt down to show off his neck and Kim's claim.

IT WAS SO GOOD as you could probably tell by the insane comment I left. Dean has NO POKER FACE WHATSOEVER he's so easy to read!! how did he get away with any crimes!

the bad guy mv….DELIGHTFUL. even if it was just singing and dancing I love it with every part of my heart.

we keep putting Dean in this situations because he's….so pretty when he cries and is all emotional. BUT LIKE. Kim's not even stopping anything with Dean! in my head he's not even really starting anything with kenta, he's just being supportive and helping the guy integrate into society like a functioning human being. but of course nobody can use their words. Dean alwasy goes from 0-100 INSTANTLY. "It’s physically impossible to be jealous of Winner" LMAOOO. so true. askjfh PAINNNN. Dean definitely thinks he wants possessiveness - I think that's why the polycule works because Kim does offer protectiveness but I think both Winner and Kenat go for possessiveness. Winner because they're HIS things. and Kenta because he's had so little and can't lose any more. Kim is like. "unhealthy! but also…kinda hot." sometimes you just want a dude to go a little bit feral over you. okay.

!!! SEND HEAT RELATED THOUGHTS IMMEDIATELY. we should also talk about designations. I think in the show they're all just. not alphas. but personally I cannot write Winner as anything but an alpha. I tend to go for the other three as betas except for the fics I started early in the show with Kenta as an alpha lol. and I just started messing about with a sci fi au where perhaps Kim's suppressant chip malfunctions and it turns out he's not a beta and now he's about to go into heat in a very cramped ship... but I'm pretty sure I can be convinced any way for these four lol.

[ofbardsandmen]

a heart's a heavy burden | kaeya, diluc and jean headcanon

i firmly believe kaeya had a crush on jean when he was a kid, at the very same time diluc did. however, diluc never voiced or admitted of his crush on her (and frankly, he didn't have to, as obvious as he was), but kaeya, obviously, noticed, and decided to keep in his brother's shadow and neither push him closer to jean (as to set him up with her, or create opportunities for them to get closer) nor try to turn him away from her. he decided it was more amusing to watch his older brother struggle on his own with his silly (and by god, rare) crush, never turning down an opportunity for amusement and bold teasing as he tried to get a verbal confession out of him. diluc eternally (and externally) remained in stage one: denial, while the internal truth leaped lively inside his heart. diluc was also most certainly a victim of provocations, such as 'if you don't give her this flower, i'll do it myself' which kaeya knew would pressure the redhead into actually doing it, and which resulted in diluc snatching said flower from his brother's hand and childishly speedwalking towards jean before kaeya could act upon his words (and gods knew he would if given the opportunity), leaving kaeya standing with a bittersweet smirk and childish jealousy on his face. kaeya never told anyone about his own crush, and hid it so well from the world as a treasure and a strange feeling that could never, yet could only ever belong to him. he hid it, sometimes even from himself, and forcefully suppressed it, as he felt he was in no place to harbor such emotions or take diluc's chances, so it eventually died out as everything else did. i don't think jean ever returned diluc's feelings - her view of him, i assume, was far too respectful and full of different kind of awe and admiration (especially during the knighthood days the three kids spent together), and so she always saw his acts and flirty attempts as mere acts of kindness and politeness, and him as a well-mannered boy. in contrast to kaeya's crush, everyone and their mother knew of diluc's 'secret' crush and crepus found it very amusing (he was against arranged marriage yet still entertained the idea of, in a way, uniting the two clans). he was fond of jean and pleased to know his son genuinely liked her. frederica certainly thought of the union and thought of diluc as a great option, tho i believe she always thought of kaeya as a more responsible brother and would let jean go anywhere as long as kaeya were there too. aside from his harmless troublemaking habits, i also believe she could see kaeya's outstanding intelligence and sense of reading people, situations and surroundings, as well as his constant caution much better than crepus could, so kaeya was, in a way, both a trustworthy friend and a safety measure for her daughter. he wasn't a second option for future arrangements though, he wasn't an option at all, for he was still an outsider in her eyes, a stranger, as good of a kid as he was. in any case, i also think kaeya had his moments with jean that differed from diluc's sweet (kaeya: you mean cringe) moments with her. so, as kaeya didn't necessarily try to get closer to her (as she could potentially be a lady reserved for the ragnvindr heir by blood - diluc), there were definitely very brief moments without diluc present in which kaeya tried to bond with jean the best he could without getting in his brother's way. but, being a kid that he was, he still wished, selfishly so, to satisfy his own heart's needs and cater to those strange emotions that confused him, even if he thought he had no right for it (my poor boy).

headcanon continues here! just a click away!

[rozunderpressure]

Seeing the mention of it, the ML subreddit is. Horrible. Like the people on Reddit will scream about how Adrien was mistreated 24/7 then suddenly go "Ugh, this again?!" when Chloé is brought up and downvote you to hell for saying you like her?? The subreddit is VERY canon loving but when you try to bring up how good/competent Chloé actually was IN canon, they call you delusional and tell you to get over it?? Ok get over Adrien not being in the finale, Alya believing Lila etc then. I'm not salting on Adrien or Alya btw but like. Why is one dead horse okay to beat but the other gets you attacked lol. Also it's full of people who think Felix is the greatest fiction character ever and that people who hate him are just stupid?

Its kinda funny to how the legit personality reasons to dislike both Chloé and Félix are the same... They are both arrogant, assholish, rich kids who, tho for different reasons, in their core, basically believe they are better than everybody, but Chloé used to be a hero and is usually being manipulated through her emotions and has expressed regret a few times, while Félix did a genocide among other horrible shit and literally never expressed any remorse, but his gf say he is nice now and we like her right? So yeah, lets just believe that...

Like, here is the interesting thing about contrasting those two: It clearly shows the writers only think of physical abuse as abuse, the fact Chloé was emotionally neglected is not abuse in their eyes, and also denotes a certain deep form of misogyny that shows in BOTH the fandom and writers (because its one that is an undercurrent in our society to be fair); Chloé is very feminine in the most demonized way by nerds (kinda dumb, trendy, a rich bitch and snobbish) and Félix is very masculine in the most desirable way for nerds (quick thinking, skillful, intelligent in way that makes him smarter than everybody else around him without much caring about the feelings of others, east Asian gfOKJK on that one), so that is that...

I don't hate Felix... I don't care for his character, he does nothing for me personally, I find the kind of character he is incredibly bland and boring, (and I don't hate the MLB Reddit community either-- mostly I don't KNOW the MLB reddit community--) but I don't hate him because I blame the writers for everything wrong with this show.

I have more to say about Alya and characters being plot devices and not characters (which is why she fell for Lila's bullshit, she wasn't being Alya at the time, no salt on her, its the writing that sucks) and how Adrien is treated like a trophy and frail creature who must be protectec from the truth itself and his treatment illustrates why just GENDERBENDING the shitty traditional story structure so the damsel in distress is now a guy without an IOTA of investigating WHY those stories suck IN THE FIRST PLACE doesn't work but-- I fear I already wrote too much, this is quite the long rant XD

So yeah, I don't know anything about the reddit community... XD

[facelessxchurch]

Review/Rant: Official Merch Store

General Short Version

Remember how he said he would hire professional artists for the official merch store? Yeah, Landy lied bc of course he did. Pretty sure he designed this stuff himself. I mean, a too big amount of items are his doodles.

I didn't expect much, didn't even hope for merch for my favs, but I expected at least some new SP art instead of recycled art (some art is so old it's still from when the first trilogy was released) and well, text.

And no, Landy's shitty 5-second doodles of Skul and himself don't count as "art". Neither does the skull silhouette on some items. Couldn't even be arsed to add eye socks and nose smh :/

3 pages full of garbage merch. He really went for quantity over quality here.

And to add further insult to injury, the prices of the items he sells are heavily overpriced.

So yeah, this entire store is a sign of disrespect and balant insult to the fandom. I hope no one buys this.

Long Version

The Notebooks/-pads

Too much empty space. WAY too much empty space. You couldn't possibly have done this in a lazier way.

The sarcasm one is hardly even SP-related. Plus, he didn't even attempt to pretty the text up a little with typography. He didn't use the 'bold' font for "Caution" which would have been the bare minimum. This doesn't even count as trying.

I TRIED to make the two with characters on it a little better by reducing the empty space, but it's really hard to polish a turd. Especially if ya don't wanna put more than 5 min in lol

Totem Bags

This store has totem bags, but they are worse than the Kickstarter one. At least the Kickstarter one had text big enough that you could read it from afar. For the text on the new ones, you'll need a magnifying glass.

Clothing

Some of the text has the same problem as the totem bags: too small to read. The only time text should be that small is if it isn't meant to be read or when it's "if you can read this you're too close" T-Shirt. This applies especially to A6.

If you have B2 you don't need B1. What happened here? Did he have an item amount quota to reach?

A3, B3 and C3 are Landy's shitty 5 second doodles again. Unless they are used to signed the cloths they don't belong on the clothes. Pay for a custom design, you cheap ass scammer!

A4 and A5, the stripe with Skul should be thicker. If it's on a shirt you shouldn't need a magnifying glass to see it. Also, the blue stripe needs more contrast, the blue is eating the black outlines of Skul. The red stripe on the blue shirt... I just really don't like that blue tone and I hate that he doubled down on it. For the website too.

C1 should have had the sold letters bc you can't read it from further away with that effect on top.

C2 at last you can read this one. Not getting any creativity points from me tho. Once again it's just text and probably took him 5 seconds to design.

Now listen, here is what I want instead. I have this zip-up hoodie from Killstar. I love and essentially I want this but in SP.

Faceless One version: The symbol on the front is the Faceless Church symbol. The back is a picture with Mev in the middle and his generals around him and it's done in the style of those stained glass windows you see in Christian churches but black and white. I don't know what I want on the sleeves. Maybe bursts of flames, symbolizing Mev's fire attacks. Or perhaps just parts of the 'Gospel of the Faceless' scribbled along on the arms in English, Latin or even Irish??? Or one arm a snake to symbolize Nef and the other a lion to symbolize Baron as his right and left hand men?

China Sorrows Version: The symbol in the front should be a crest with a scorpion on it. The back image is a drawing of China in the Art nouveau style. The arms should be a roll of paper curling down each arm with various symbols drawn on them, artfully intervening with each other.

Hats

I wouldn't say that "We don't talk about vampires" is one of the more iconic quotes of the series, but besides that not even an attempt was made at typography. Or like, a little vampire head silhouette with an open mouth and exposed fangs. or even just fangs around the text or anything at all even.

It doesn't assault my eyes, but it's also incredibly boring.

To the people saying they wanted to buy Skul's head: just go to a hat store and buy a fedora. It's gonna be better quality than whatever Landy would smack on the store for a criminal price.

Everything with his face on it

No. How full of yourself do you have to be to try and sell merch with your face on it. The quotes are awful too

The quotes on the postcards are so awfully 2012 Tumblr "quirky" I'm-not-like-other-people ^w^ edgy bullshit vibes. Wasn't cute when it came from the emo kids back then and it coming from a +50 year old man trying to be relatable to the kids these days is just sad and cringe.

Also, I'm pretty sure by sending people that greeting card is how you end relationships including familiar relationships.

Baby's first InDesign Skull

It's what it says in the title. Should have just used the iconic Skul logo instead to make it look like SP and less like random shit you can find on Etsy after reaching page 100.

Really should have just used the old school icon. Thee is a reason it's so iconic: it's easy to recognize as Skul and not random skull/skeleton number 5643489. Plus, using the old one is about the same amount of effort as making the new one.

Honestly, it should have been custom art, but the iconic SP icon would be the lesser evil by a far.

On top of hat, black text is hard to read on a red background js.

Also, what kind of chaotic evil alinged bastard uses a metal pencil case???

Prints

Ngl I always thought the "Mortail Coil" cover was one of the best of the entire series. I also really love the OG "Dark Days" cover. OG book covers as prints? Easy win! Still fucking overpriced tho. Plus the OG covers also would have looked good on clothing, way better than the shit he ended up slapping on there.

As for the collage with all of the characters in it: I always thought it looked awful. The characters were just thrown in there without much thought or care. Also hate that he used the ugly ass SoW Nef instead of the way better-looking Book 1 cover Nef.

Rainbow Ruler

This isn't even Skulduggery-themed. I feel like HarperCollins told Landy he had to put something in the store for the gays but instead of making something like a cute lil Valkyrie/Militsa pin he just smacked this into the store.

The Skulduggery Apron

The only thing that makes it SP-themed is that they smacked a sign saying "Cooking with Skulduggery" on it. Otherwise, it looks like every other skeleton apron you can get around Halloween.

Coaster

So empty and boring again. It looked way better with the moth eventho it was a "Silent of the Lambs" movie poster rip-off. Still don't know why a skull is the official Sanctuary logo. Seems kinda weird for the good guys. On a meta level: I guess literally EVERYTHING in universe has to revolve around Skulduggery.

Make the Sanctuary seal more interesting and then invert the values so the background if black and the lines are white and this could actually look decent.

Skulduggery Clock

This looks like a your-photo-here clock that you can order at every random print shop. Here are some examples from HP to show HOW a custom clock for the fans is meant to look like next to it. (Also look at this Thresh watch, it's so good I almost regret not wearing watches.)

Lunchbox and Waterbottle

Same thing as with the clock. Tho the water bottle also has too much white space.

Mouse-/Gamerpads

Recycled art again. The mousepads look weird with Val placed smack dead in the middle. Plz apply the rule of thirds and move her a little to the right.

Pillows and Bag

AGAIN WITH THOSE SHITTY DOODLES Someone tell Landy that if it takes about 5 seconds to draw it does NOT belong on merchendise!

Also, that floating "Bad Magic" Skul really doesn't work on it's own, Just... just use the damn Skul icon if you gotta be lazy.

Final Words

Overpriced lazy garbage that Landy definetely designed himself. No person with self-respect would even consider participating in this cash grab.

It's an insult to every fan, really.

How to fix this? Delete everything from the website, hire a professional artist, go for quality over quantity. A few items that sell really well are a million times better than a bunch of items that don't sell. If the shop goes well you can always expand.

Almost all of the store should have been custom art apart from a few exceptions where old promo art and book covers are used for tops and posters.

[antiloreolympus]

9 Anti LO Asks

1. I know nothing about this, I just stumbled onto your blog and started reading, but I saw a post where (presumably) the author said that Aphrodite and Persephone... weren't skinny? They're tiny??? Wtf

2. I love long-haired men so much I never thought I would consider a long-haired man ugly. But goddamn, Hades still looks ugly even with long hair, even to me. That's impressive... are you, like, alive, btw?

3. You know, in the new currently fast pass chapter... Kronos takes over Hades and makes him say stuff to Thanatos? Right, but then he goes, "What's wrong, don't want Persephone to be your new mommy?" Which is terrible writing enough on it's own but then you HAVE to consider that PERSEPHONE HERSELF IS YOUNGER THAN THANATOS, SOMEONES WHOSE MEANT TO BE HADES' SURROGATE SON (who he treats like shit). Like, Hades is more than old enough to be a father but Persephone only JUST turned old enough to maybe be a mother! Which really makes you realize, Hades isn't old enough to be her dad, he's old enough to be her grandpa. Disgusting. Like, there can't be any defense for this 💀

4. tbh i think eris is a shit character and a hamfisted plot device. she could have been added so much better.

5. My personal criticism with LO has mostly to do with the art style. Like yes the writings kinda trashy but trashy can still be good if its coupled with great visuals and characters. The problem is that the arts just pathetically inconsistent. You can't even blame webtoon for it since she has a few assistants. I'm an artist myself and even tho I don't draw for a living, I know it's fairly easy to create simple character charts and reference sheets. Some people say it's not that bad but god the inconsistency in the characters appearances can ruin chapters for me.

For example, the fact that Persephone sometimes has siren eyes, doe eyes, full lips, no lips, extra body fat, less body fat, a button nose, or a longer nose is ridiculous. It drives me nuts when people call the art amazing, because it's just not. And it seems like all of her aesthetic details (IE wardrobe and colors) are all very surface level, aside from Minthe/Persephone and Hades contrasts.

Demeter being green and purple makes some sense, but then her daughter being neon pink ONLY is weird. Hades being blue and winter-esq makes some sense since there's no sun in the underworld, but the ENTIRE underworld being the same blue and black is just ugly. Zeus being a royal purple? Makes sense. Hera being gold? That too. They're the only color pallets that actually correspond with personality, yet they're wasted with basic wardrobes and character development.   Ares being gold makes sense GENETICALLY, but not in practicality. Same with Hermes being red. Plus, she seems to assign colors to characters at random without even seeing how they build off of each other, let alone their own personalities.

I don't think people really get how important color and wardrobe are in stories, especially visual ones. You should be able to look at a character and immediately understand what they're about, even if it's subconsciously. But Persephone is often in bright happy colors and tight clothing even in times of stress or depression. Artemis is always in workout gear or her uniform. Minthe is more in "sexy" clothing, which is fine, but her colors don't change with her mental state.

Another problem I have is again with Persephone. Her wardrobe isn't even picked out by her, it's always by others/magic. She never really gets to visually tell us how she feels other than her glaringly obvious vines and eyes. Like, I could deal with a visual crutch if the writing was good or vise versa, but when they're both lacking it just sucks.

I see a lot of people say the same things I wanted to, like how creepy Perse and Hades are, how Apollo wasn't handled well, yada yada yada. Anyway Hades is creepy and Hera, Minthe, and Demeter deserve the world ✌🏼

6. It's really funny bc I've been reading some of the scenes of Hades' problematic action (esp the latest fast pass) and he literally talks like my abusive dad and my ex groomer. Like hm maybe your male lead having the same verbal manipulation tactics as actual abusers isn't the best. But oh my bad Hades is still a perfect man /s

7. something that makes me angry about demeter is that we are supposed to see her as an abusive or controlling mother ( i know that controlling mothers is an obviously bad thing ) but all her reasons are a good part of the time valid?

Like:

She doesn't want her child dating a 40y + man who she knows for like 11 days +++ someone who was literally a horrible person with her until the point she cried .

And lets not forget about the slaver owner thing 🥺 demeter knows hades more time  than persephone, obviously. It's not something bad if you dont want your TEENAGER daughter next to a grown old man who the only thing he thinks about its her "small petite thicc pink body" 😁

8. i just wanted to say that i really love your blog, like whenever i look at it i feel better. idk if thats kinda weird since its an anti blog but it just kinda brings me euphoria. ty!

From OP: Thank you so much! I’m glad my blog can be beneficial for you. /pos

-----FP Spoiler-----

9. 220 spoiler: full fuckin disrespect, we all know Kronos wants Persephone rather than Hera as his “golden traitor”, because fuck every other god/goddess, the only ones that matter are Hades and Persephone!!

[beheworthy]

The Aching Cowardice of Tyler Rake

The biggest accomplishment of Extraction 2 (2023) is that it’s better than the first film and the first film was great. Especially considering that it was conceived entirely post Extraction’s success when there were no plans for a sequel.

The story and screenplay of Extraction (2020) were too simple, and its dialogue in particular was not good. But Chris Hemsworth’s performance as Tyler Rake, Sam Hargrave’s direction, and the film’s sincere commitment to the action elevated it in its genre. Moreover, the film had a poignant take on masculinity and specifically father-son relationships. E2 takes everything from E1 forward. It betters the story, screenplay, and dialogue, along with the emotion, of course. And it ups the action 10-fold. 

Tho I’m mostly in it for the emotional stuff. There is something about the villain of E1 taking that misguided Bangladeshi teenager under his wing when he himself is such a corrupt soul. And the uncle of the villain of E2 constantly advising him to not lose himself in revenge after living his whole life like that. A boy watches Tyler kill his father in E1, he’s no hero to this kid. And the boy he saves in E2 outright says he’s no hero when he saved him from his abusive father. So much to uncover.

This is why the biggest highlight of this series for me is Chris as Tyler. He is so ruthless as the mercenary that you just can’t take your eyes off him breaking bones and ripping people’s hands in half. So it stands out even more that his bravado and badassery in combat are contrasted with him being an absolute coward with his emotions. No joke, he would literally rather jump off a bridge than face anything. He says so himself. And I absolutely love it.

Like, what a wonderful human flaw to give to your badass protagonist who can clear a room full of enemies without breaking a sweat. But just can’t put in words why he needs to protect this druglord’s son at all costs.

Keep reading

[kurjakani]

Alright quick question..we have similar taste in fictional men and I’ve never watched Bleach before should I start it so I can obsess over Mayuri as well?

HMMMMMMMAH rly hard to tell. Ok sorry bleach fans i love u but im gonna shit talk this show a bit. Pls dont read if u cant handle me rambling abt my personal experience w a show meant for 15 year old boys. I actually love it deeply !!!!!!! I enjoy ir a lot!!!!! However. I really struggle w watching the show sometimes. Its over 300 eps + the movies which i havent even gotten started with. It's difficult bc theres a lot of cool moments too but good lird esp at tge start the fights consist of characters deciding that they have more soul power bc of some memory they had and beatinh eachother. Everyone is confident there is character variety but everyone is like supposed 2 be a huge badass and idk thats just not my type of media (which is why orihime is actually one of my favourite characters bc she stands in such contrast w her confidence issues and damseliness. Also Ishida i love Ishida i love his arc in the umm when they had the bounts and his self reflection about his inabilitu to help the others + hes always rly analytical in fights. Mayuri too bcs all of his power comes from thinking & experimenrting & PREPARADNESS. I dont remember him ever mentioning soul power bc hes like only talking about technique. Zaraki is also incrhesting bc he is overpowered, but to a point of ridiculousness and where he has an one punch man styled conflict w being unable 2 find someone he has fun fightinh w) i like casts full of losers and freaks. Talking of freaks Tite Kubo is one and will NOT stop making fucked up jokes, esp about girls. His humour is shit theres been like. One scene where i laughed out loud and it was bc ichigos dad pelted him w no mercy bc hes used 2 him being able to fight but ichigo was just tired and he flew thru the room thats fr the only time ive laughed. Theres a lot of rly dark topics also treated very lightly, including when it comes to Mayuri??? Esp his treatment of Nemu. As far as ive seen!!! The storyline has an interesting end in the manga tho and like it seems more thoughtful but ive yet to see that. But the treatment of Nemu as a prop to show how awful Mayuri is and to also be fanservice rly. It frusturates me. Theres so much like, interesting stuff you could do w her character. Again tho im at ep like 180 so maybe there will be!!!! For the good tho Tite Kubo has just. Theeee most incredible eye for character design in my eyes hes so fuckinh good its ridiculous. Even a lot of the side characters are mega memorable and its no wonder a lot of thr characters are absolutely iconic. Also the show definetly gets better the beginninh is just so. Slow. As u can prolly pick up from my earlier notes there are a couple characters that i fuxking loooove aside from Mayuri. As for mayuri he is fuckinh viile and they make some gross jokes abt him too but he is so. Ill b real hes just sexy and also transformation coded so. Literally childhood fave chinhands emoji idc. There also are some great interactions between characters!!! Thr main characters rly care abt eachothef and are so devoted 2 taking care of eachother and i think thats lovely. They can be cranky and mean but theyre always worried for eachother and rwady to help and i think thats just so sweet i like that dynamic. Sorry i di have more to say abt the show as u can see i have some big big emotions abt it and i care abt iy sm but it also often frusturates me deeply a lot of tje time. Its a show you endure. Thank god it jas a dub bc i am watcjing it while knitting / drawing etc.

[theladyyavilee]

4x14 Buck snippet

for @skyhighrollins911 because she likes Buck whump and this is at least emotional whump xD 💕 and because her gorgeous, gorgeous edit reminded me of this scene I wrote over a year ago 💕💕💕 (even tho here Buck very intently refuses to look in the mirror, I think the sentiment is the same xD also yeaaah this is part of a bigger 4x14 buck fic that I don’t think I’ll ever finish aksdjfaskl 🙈)

It’s another second before Buck’s head snaps up to Bobby, adrenaline spiking sharp through his bloodstream.

“How did you know—how long was I—did they tell you—”

His voice grates against his throat and he’s not sure what he is really even try to ask for. All he knows is that Bobby wasn’t here earlier and that he lost all track of time since they wheeled Eddie away—but since Bobby is here now, time must have passed and what if he missed someone coming by with news about Eddie?

“No, hey, Buck, it’s been less than half an hour, Captain Mehta called me. When I got here all the information they had was that he’s in surgery and”—Bobby takes a breath that just barely shudders on the inhale—“they’re doing everything they can. They’ll let us know as soon as there is anything new.”

Everything they can.

Buck knows that phrase so well. Firefighters doing everything they can to find a missing kid in a burning building. Paramedics doing everything they can to save someone flatlining at a scene. Promising horrified family members that the doctors at the hospital will do everything they can to save their loved one.

Everything they can, because anything else would be an empty promise and they know better than to give those.

Everything you can, but sometimes nothing you can do ends up enough. And you are left with you best friends life spilled over your hands.

The memory of Eddie’s blood—warm and slick and so, so much—spilling between his fingers returns with full force and Buck can’t help looking down at his hands. The blood has dried now, rusty splatters that pull against his skin, starting to itch.

The smell hits Buck only a heartbeat later, coppery and metallic—and with it the memory of blood hitting his face, of Eddie’s eyes wide and locked on him before he falls. It’s a familiar smell—so much blood spilled every day they’re on the job—but now he can also taste it and it’s Eddie’s blood and his stomach turns.

“Hey! Buck, look at me,” Bobby implores and his voice is a familiar pull against the panic welling back up inside Buck’s chest. Bobby’s gaze is steady, his breathing is steady, his hands on Buck’s shoulders are steady. All of it helps to push back the horror trying to pull Buck apart. “There’s a bathroom right through these doors. I brought a spare shirt and you can get cleaned up and then we’ll go from there, alright?”

The fabric of the shirt that Bobby hands him is the familiar dark blue of an LAFD sweater – worn and soft against his fingers – and Buck almost sways with relief. Somehow he is up on his feet and somehow his legs manage to carry him through the doors that Bobby points him at, getting steadier with every step towards something he can do.

He catches sight of his face out of the corner of his eyes – red, red, red – and his gaze shies away from the mirror before he can help it. There is enough of it washing off his hands, the white porcelain of the sink showing it in stark contrast.

Once Buck starts scrubbing at the stains it’s almost impossible to stop again.

He turns the water up as hot as it will go and it burns against his hands, his cheeks, his neck. It’s a relief after the pull of drying blood against his skin and he keeps scrubbing long after the water starts running clear.

The shirt is next and it sticks to Buck’s skin in the places where the blood has almost fully dried and before he can really start thinking about it he is back to scrubbing, water a hot brand against everywhere Eddie’s blood is spilled onto his skin.

The fabric falls to the floor almost like an afterthought.

It takes all he has to keep his breathing steady, to stop his hands from shaking, to stop the incessant scrubbing against skin that is now red only because of the flush from the scalding hot water.

The memory of blood between his fingers is harder to wash away than the actual blood itself it turns out.

The worn fabric of Bobby’s sweater is soft against his irritated skin as Buck shrugs it on, smells familiar of the detergent Bobby and Athena use, the same one Maddie uses as well. It helps more than he expected it to, makes him feel a little less alone.

A little less like he is being pulled under by the tide.

Buck steels himself against it, turns to make his way back towards Bobby.

The white and red of the shirt crumpled on the floor between him and the door stops him short again.

He gets one moment of just blissfully unaware confusion, before he realizes the error of his thoughts.

Of course.

Buck hadn’t yet been wearing his uniform when Eddie caught him and Chimney before their shift. And he is mostly used to the sight of the dark shadow of blood against the blue of their uniforms. Somehow the sight of it splattered in stark contrast all over his white shirt is so much worse.

It pulls him back to Eddie standing in front of him and Chimney—both of them relaxed in their pre-shift banter. An Eddie so full of nervous energy and righteous indignation, but so vibrant and alive with it—and god it can't have been more than an hour, maybe an hour and a half ago but it feels like years have passed since. It already has the air of a distant memory, blurry with carefreeness and the inherent softness of happy memories.

Buck remembers looking at Eddie, worried about Charlie and ready to do whatever it takes to keep the kid safe. Remembers thinking with warmth filling his chest how much Eddie always cares, remembers thinking You're such a Dad at his best friend.

His mind rips him from the memory with a pull that he can almost feel like a painfully physical tug in his chest.

Eddie is a dad.

Christopher.

Oh god.

[lxvrrbxy]

This is a super random question so feel free to delete but how would u rank the housewardens? like how much u like them

Ooooh, okioki !! (i'll include the pronouns i use for each housewarden)

🌹 riddle rosehearts - he/they/vi; 8/10

i love him alot !! i have an internal bias towards alice in wonderland themed characters so that's that but vir story is 1 i can very much relate to 🥲 so earns themself some "he just like me fr !!!!" points lol

🦁 leona kingscholar - she/it; 7.5/10

alright, i luv beautiful women (mtf leona tunnel vision) so that earns her some points lol. like riddle, her story is 1 i can somewhat relate so it earns itself "she just like me fr !!" points too. other than that tho, her arrogance can be a bit fustrating to deal with sometimes tbh cdkndkbd so some points are lost there. overall though, she's neat af

🐙 azul ashengrotto - he/him; ♾️/10

LITERAL PERFECTION (zuzu brainrot i luv him sm omg) HIS HAIR HIS EYES HIS VOICE HIS EVERYTHINT ARE ALL JUST SO XBKSIBXBOONS i'm an azul kinnie (mental illness jumpscare) as i too, relate too creating a persona to hide away my insecurity + some other stuff 😭😭😭 i luved zuzu from the moment i laid my eyes upon him and eversince then, i have been a changed man 🥴

🌤 kalim al-asim - he/they; 8.5/10

they're a little ball of sunshine and for me, is a fun contrast to all the jackasses that reside in nrc lmfao ☠️☠️ he's just so sweet and i find him quite endearing + floyd calls him sea otter and i fucking LOVE otters 💞 some points are knocked off for my complicated relationship w/ the rich 😩😩😩

👑 vil scheonheit - any/all pronouns; 9/10

what being pretty does to a mfer oml ☠️ vil is a character that means alot to me. seeing a male character be so feminine and still have her masculine gender identity be recognised and respected means sm to my silly fem-presenting transmasc heart 😭💕💕 other then that extreme trans-coding bias tho, his jabs towards ppl and micro-aggressions towards the brown characters kinda ticks me off 🧎🏽which is what's stopping me from completely worshipping them 🥴

💀 idia shroud - he/it/e; 9.5/10

i luv this loser sm like you wouldn't believe 😭😭 i like how they make him so self-loathing and full of himself at the same time, it's really entertaining to see. the eng translations have also made it sm better for me ohmygod ☠️ er story is also just ??????? /pos. i was absolutely gobsmacked by the end of book 6

🐲 malleus draconia - they/it; 9/10

so-- malleus is an interesting situation as despite me not knowing anything abt book 7 as of now, they're still able to mean so much to me all cause i hc it as irish 😭😭 i've grown up in ireland for most of my life so i have a sense of familiarity towards irish culture and have many close friends who are irish. yuta, my yuu, is filipino and is very close friends w/ malleus (aroace malleyuu 💯💯💯) and in a way; i see the friendship between them as a reflection of the close friendship i have w/ my irish friends here in ireland 💕 i also just think they're neat :3

RAMBLE OVER, I'M GOING TO BED 💥💥🔥🔥❗️💯🔥❗️💯❗️💥💥💥💥