#had a blast drawing his dude

[thiscatiscreepy]

Belated birthday gift for @linafication <3

[ID: a digital drawing of an original character, Haricot Heretic, done in sharp bright colors. Haricot Heretic is an undead man with green skin, brown hair and beard. He's wearing a green coat with red lapels and cuffs. Where his skin is visible under the coat, there are thorny vines replacing his muscles.

Haricot Heretic is praying, looking up with a pained expression. His mouth is wide open, with purple flowers growing out of it. His hands are tied together in prayer with branches. There are bunches of bluebells hanging over his head, resembling a halo. The background is a bright blob of purple, pink, yellow and orange. End ID]

[eric-the-bmo]

[ B A N G ! ]

the death of Michael the Journalist.

[silvermizuki]

I had to give him these bad boys lmAO Based off the brain blast this post gave me 

Hi @naffeclipse​ I present thee ye boy and also @just-a-drawing-bean​ a late birthday gift :)c Detective AU by Sunnys-aesthetic ! (Image ID and Version without glasses below the cut :D)

[ ID: A bust shot of Sleuth Jesters Eclipse coming in from the right at a slight angle. He’s staring at the viewer, eyes half lidded with a giant smirk on his face that shows off all his teeth. The hand on the left holds a cigar between the index finger while the one on the right is pinching round gold rimmed glasses with red lenses. He holds them so they are just hovering below his eyes. /END ID]

oh yeah I can just edit extra stuff under the cut and yall will still see it from reblogged posts LETS GOOOO- 

‘I’m a wanted man’ by Royal Deluxe is the song that was mostly on repeat as I was drawing this dude I wish I recorded my progress while I made this so I could do a video w/ the song in the bg. Sobs sobbing on the ground.

Also here’s this creature 

[momotonescreaming]

Modern au where Steve is a part time aquarium mermaid.

He's studying to be a marine biologist or something, living in a big city, loves swimming, loves the ocean, and leapt at the chance to work at his local aquarium. Even if most of his job is swimming around in a long, dark blue, mermaid tail. Merman tail? And honestly? He kind of loves it. He gets to swim amongst the tropical fish, gets to wave at kids and do tricks in the water. The aquarium discount is nice too.

Eddie always thought the ocean was cool growing up. It seemed freeing, even if he was never very good at swimming. When he was little, before he moved in with Wayne full time, apparently he had told his uncle he wanted to be a fish when he grew up. And being a poor kid in a landlocked state, he didn't exactly get the opportunity to go to the beach, or visit those big aquariums, and his interest in the ocean sort of stagnated there.

So when he got older, and him and Wayne moved to the city, his uncle got him an annual pass to the aquarium. And Eddie was going to make sure Wayne got his money's worth.

So on weekends off or afternoons after work, he'd go to the aquarium. Watch the penguins being fed, or the keeper talks in the otter enclosure. Walk through the tanks and watch the fish. And then at the end he'd sit on the bench by the huge tank they have with all the different sorts of fish in them. And he'd put on his headphones and listen to music, or pull out a notebook and work on a dnd campaign as he watches the fish.

One day, a gaggle of young kids rush in excitedly, chattering about how excited they are to see the mermaids. Eddie furrows his brow until he sees a person in the tank, peering around the coral and the rocks with his brown hair flowing around his head. He swims closer, and that's when Eddie sees the navy blue merman tail the guy is wearing. Hugging his legs, and blending in seamlessly with his waist. A girl swims out after him, in a matching pink tail and shell bikini top. They wave and blow kisses at the kids, doing twirls and flips and tricks.

And listen, Eddie's got eyes. The dude is hot as hell. Nice toned muscles, tanned skin dotted with moles, square jaw. He's exactly Eddie's type, but he's working, and in a fishtank, so Eddie sits and watches.

Eddie keeps visiting the aquarium in his free time, and by coincidence he keeps ending up in front of the tank when the mermaid and the hot merman is there. And the guy waves at him, and smiles, and Eddie shyly smiles back with a lil wave of his own. And Eddie swears it's almost like the guy is happy to see him. Not just putting on the act.

One day when the hot merman shows up, Eddie has been doodling fish in his sketchbook. And fuck it, he sketches the merman. He's hot and Eddie's an artist. Why not right? Only when he looks up, the merman is right up by the glass, watching him. They lock eyes, and the guy mimes at him in a watery version of charades. Are you drawing?. And Eddie nods, before taking a deep breath and flipping the sketchbook around so the guy can see. The merman squints as he looks before his eyes widen as he points at himself. You drew me?. Eddie nods again, blushing faintly, and watches as the guy gets all flustered and then pretends to swoon in the water. Eddie goes to sit back down and the guy swims off to get some air.

Later, Eddie's still drawing, listening to music on full blast through his headphones, completely in the zone, when he feels a tap on his shoulder. He jumps, startled, and turns to see the merman in front of him, wearing jeans and a polo, looking a little sheepish. He apologizes for startling him, his name's Steve. And fuck, if he isn't prettier up close.

Eddie introduces himself, and the guy - Steve - asks him sort of sheepishly if he actually drew him? It was sort of hard to see through the water and the glass. Eddie says yeah he did, sorry if that's creepy, but drawing and watching the tank makes his brain quiet. It's calming.

And Steve says he get it. He gets Eddie. And they chat, and they flirt, and at the end, Eddie asks Steve if he wants to see the drawing, if he wants to keep it. And Steve light up, and he looks so happy, so before he can think to hard about it - Eddie writes his name and cellphone number on the bottom of the page - and rips it out and hands it to Steve.

And Steve beams.

[radiosteve]

Casual

Summary: When did being friends with benefits with Steve Harrington get so complicated? Probably when your "no strings attached" relationship suddenly had strings.

Note: Loosely based on the song Casual by Chappell Roan. I slowly wrote this over the past month or so which is why it took so long. I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: 18+, No use of y/n, language, friends with benefits to lovers, smut, unprotected sex, oral (female receiving), angst, jealousy.

Pairings: Steve Harrington x reader

Word count: 11.3k+

Knee deep in the passenger seat

The buzz of the evening air filled the car, prickling your skin with each passing second. Or maybe that was the A/C that Steve had on full blast, cooling the cramped car to an uncomfortable degree. Without a second thought, you reached forward, fingers finding the dial that would alleviate the shivers raking your body. But Steve’s hand shot out, swatting away your futile attempts to not freeze to death in the passenger seat.

“What the hell, Steve?” you shot him a glare, crossing your arms over your chest and unknowingly pushing up your breasts in the process, drawing Steve’s not-so-subtle gaze. In all honesty, Steve was cold too. Sure, it was summer in Hawkins and the sweltering heat and humidity bogged down the heavy air, but his car was a cool 66°F. 

“I’m sweating over here, sweetheart,” Steve shrugged, placing his hand back on the steering wheel. He was lying of course, but he couldn’t tell you that he wanted the A/C on so he could continue to catch glimpses of your pebbled nipples poking against the thin fabric of your tank top. He especially couldn’t say that because Eddie and Robin were in the backseat, a fact he had entirely forgotten until their muffled conversation rose dramatically in volume.

“And then they found that old guy’s fucking bones,” Eddie practically shouted with excitement, and your brow furrowed. Robin echoed Eddie’s statement, sharing the same elation regarding their conversation topic, which only confused you more. You turned in your seat, curious to know what the hell you had missed between them during your battle with Steve and the air conditioner. But then the car jerked to the left entering Forest Hills trailer park, and you knew you’d never find out.

The car halted in front of Eddie’s trailer, causing your body to jerk forward at the sudden stop. You let out a groan in response and were met with Steve’s cruel cackle. Meanwhile, Eddie tumbled out of the backseat into his front lawn and Robin followed suit on the other side.

“Wait, Rob,” you called, quickly rolling your window down so she could actually hear you. “I thought we were dropping you off?”

“Change of plans. I promised Max that we’d go through her comic collection so I’m just gonna crash at her place tonight,” Robin pointed over her shoulder and you spotted the mess of fiery red hair watching from the window. You nodded and exchanged a quick goodbye as Robin strolled over to Max’s front door. You watched her retreating figure, but it was soon blocked by Eddie ripping the passenger door open and hastily grabbing your cheek before placing a sloppy kiss on the corner of your mouth.

“Dude,” you wiped your lips with the back of your hand, trying to rid yourself of any trace of Eddie’s saliva. Eddie’s eyes flickered over your shoulder to land on Steve. He watched the fire ignite in Steve’s eyes, the flames encasing his pupils at the stretch of Eddie’s smirk.

“C’mon, princess. You know you want me,” Eddie winked at you and you pushed him away from the car with a laugh. He stumbled back a few steps, regaining his balance as you pulled the car door shut. 

“In your dreams, Munson,” you shot him a smile as Steve began driving off, leaving Eddie to watch as the car pulled away. He stood content, knowing he’d accomplished his mission to rile Steve up. You rolled up the window and turned to Steve, expecting his expression to reflect the amusement you felt as a result of Eddie’s antics. 

But Steve, ever so unpredictable, had never been one to conform to your expectations before. His face appeared hardened, like it was set in stone as his white knuckles gripped the steering wheel tightly. He kept his gaze on the road as if he was incapable of looking elsewhere, particularly at you.

The silence grew heavy within the car, only elevating the tension that blossomed seemingly out of nowhere. Steve was driving too fast and you wanted to tell him to slow down but he spoke before you could.

“You like it when Munson kisses you?” his tone was harsh and cold like you were his worst enemy rather than his friend of many years. But you’d known Steve long enough to understand where this was coming from. He was jealous, though he’d never ever admit it, not to himself and most certainly not to you. Despite his insistence to keep things casual between you and him, he was quite good at blurring the line.

“Steve, I’d hardly call that a kiss,” you scoffed, already knowing that this was an argument in the making. Steve was silent, knots forming in his tensed shoulders as he continued driving. “And what does it matter? You made out with Stacy Townsend last week. It's not like we're dating, Steve,” you huffed and the car quickly turned off the main road into a shaded grove, away from any prying eyes. 

Steve practically threw the car in park and unbuckled his seatbelt so quickly you could’ve gotten whiplash. He exited the car, rounding the back and appearing at your door before you could even turn in your seat to track his motion. Steve tore the door open, leaning down and reaching between your legs. Your breath stopped at the feeling of his arm brushing against your thighs, but you quickly realized he was simply adjusting the seat to push it all the way back.

“What are you-” you began but quickly stopped as Steve occupied the space in front of you. His knees rested on the carpeted floor of his car as his back brushed against the glove box. There was enough room for him to comfortably rest between your open legs as he swung the door shut, trapping you in the confines of his presence.

“Is he a good kisser?” Steve asked, the traces of jealousy still ever so present in his tone, but there was something else too. Something deeper and more lustful that almost helped to outweigh the annoyance you felt in the moments prior. You knew to play along, follow Steve’s prompts, and adapt to the scenario.

“He’s pretty good, Stevie. Might want to kiss him again,” you let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding and you watched Steve’s gaze trace over you. He once again found the outline of your peaked nipples, teasing him in the car’s cool atmosphere. Steve couldn’t help himself, letting his fingers trail up your chest, tracing over your nipples once he finally reached them.

“Is he better than me?” Steve asked, relishing in the soft sign that escaped you at the brush of his fingers over your clothed skin. He knew your body like the back of his hand at this point, giving him some control over you.

“He might be,” you refused to give in, knowing Steve would give you what you want regardless. But Steve understood you in the same way that you did him, and he expected that you’d play hard to get, which only made it more fun for him. One of his hands dropped, reaching for the hem of your tank top and pulling it up above your breasts, leaving them on display for him. 

Steve resumed his teasing to your left nipple, gently circling it with his thumb. He leaned in slowly, keeping his eyes locked with yours as his lips met your breast, placing slow open-mouthed kisses on your soft flesh. After leaving a few marks he brought his mouth to your nipple, gently pecking it with his soft lips before placing a bruising kiss on it in a way that made you gasp in pleasure.

“Fuck,” you moaned as Steve’s teeth grazed your sensitive skin. His eyes never left yours, drinking in the sight of you slowly unraveling at the feel of his lips. Steve trailed his kisses lower, expanding over your torso and down to the waistband of your skirt.

His hands caressed your thighs, parting them even wider than before while he hiked your skirt up your hips. The lace of your panties now sat exposed to Steve as his hungry eyes roamed over the fabric.

“Maybe I shouldn’t,” Steve spoke with a smirk, his breath fanning over your lap, warming your cunt in a way that made you squirm. “Just leave that for Munson since he’s such a better kisser,” confidence and cockiness dripped from Steve’s voice like honey. He moved to pull your skirt back down, anticipating your pleas to continue. Luckily for him, you conceded.

“No, Steve. Please,” you begged, hand shooting out to stop him. And that was all he needed before he was pulling your panties from your legs and tossing them somewhere in the backseat. You were sure you’d never see them again. Steve placed a gentle kiss on your clit before licking your entrance to make you squirm. As if it were pure instinct, your hand shot out, gripping the soft locks of Steve’s hair.

That motivated him to really dive in, being more purposeful in the swipe of his tongue through your folds. Steve relished in the sound of your moans, the way your hips slid against the seat to meet his mouth, and how you threw your head back when his nose nudged your clit. Quite frankly, Steve had never been a big fan of eating girls out until he started hooking up with you. There was something about the way you reacted to the flick of his tongue that ended in him cumming in his pants on more than one occasion.

“So close, Stevie,” the breathy tone of your voice encouraged Steve further as he abandoned your entrance. His lips attached firmly to your clit, letting his teeth graze your sensitive bud as he sucked on it. Your chest was heaving at that point, tits jiggling with each heaving breath, and the sight had Steve palming himself through his jean shorts. And suddenly it was all too much for you as Steve’s tongue flicked wildly over your clit. 

Your thighs shook around Steve’s head while your fingers dug deep into his scalp and you came undone. Steve lapped at your entrance, licking up every last bit of your slick before finally pulling back with a labored breath. He leaned up on his knees, admiring how fucked out you looked. It was his favorite way to see you. Steve placed a fervent kiss on your lips, encapsulating all of the passion that flowed through you both at that moment.

“So who’s the better kisser now?” Steve whispered against your lips as a smirk tugged the corners of his mouth. You scoffed, pushing him gently away from you and pulling your skirt back down. It was impossible to keep the smile from your lips though, especially when Steve got up from the footwell of the car and you saw the wet spot on the crotch of his shorts. 

He got back in the driver’s seat and brought the car back to life. This time you welcomed the harsh blast of the A/C given the sticky heat between your legs and the warm air that now filled the fogged-up car. Steve drove you home, stopping in front of your driveway to let you out. He placed a quick peck on your lips before letting you out, leaving you to walk back to your front door. You stopped just before the entrance, turning to get one last look at the maroon BMW before disappearing into your house. The taste of yourself and Steve’s arrogance still lingered on the tip of your tongue as you watched him drive off into the dark summer night.

You said “Baby, no attachment”

“Jesus, this place is packed,” Eddie spoke beside you, his grip tight on his black lunch box. He’d dragged you to some house party so he could have company while he dealt. But you’d tagged along with Eddie to one too many parties to know that he’d soon disappear behind a wall of letterman jackets that he’d overcharged for weed simply because he could. You only agreed to go because of the promise of free booze.

“I’m gonna get a drink,” you shouted over the blaring music that ricocheted off the walls in the crowded living room. Eddie nodded, already being pulled away by someone looking to buy from him. You struggled your way through the sea of people to the closed-off kitchen, settling on whatever liquor you deemed the strongest. It was then that you saw him. Steve’s perfectly styled hair framed his face as he leaned down to whisper something into the ear of some very tipsy blonde across the room. 

“Figures,” you scoffed under your breath, tilting your cup to your lips and ingesting its bitter contents. Steve hadn’t told you he was coming to the party, likely because he was determined to find a one-night stand or come crawling to you if he struck out. It wouldn’t be the first time. 

You refilled your now empty cup before departing the kitchen and shimming your way onto the makeshift dance floor in the living room. A slight buzz already consumed you, diminishing any worried thoughts, particularly about a certain brown-haired boy.

Someone in a letterman jacket approached you, matching your movements with a shy smile. His name was Marcus, one of the nicer basketball players from your graduating class. Letting the alcohol control you, you threw your arms over his shoulders, careful not to spill your drink. You pulled him close, pressing yourself flush against him and moving to the beat of the music. Marcus was cute, flushed red as his hands snaked around to land on your hips.

As you got lost in the ocean blue of Marcus’s eyes, you remained oblivious to the sudden drawl of Steve’s attention as he stumbled into the room. Steve’s stare lingered over your figure, the press of your breasts against Marcus’s chest, the trail of his fingers as they inched towards the hem of your skirt. Steve couldn't tear his eyes away from you, brushing off whatever girl he’d been trying to bed and stalking in your direction.

Marcus’s lips hovered over yours, tempting you with each passing breath. Finally, sick of the teasing, you used your free hand to pull his neck down, effectively closing the gap. He tasted like bubblegum and Coca-Cola, and it became clear to you then that he hadn’t been drinking. You weren’t some drunken conquest to him, just a girl he wanted to dance with.

You pulled back at the revelation, feeling a little guilty for assuming all the boy in front of you wanted was a drunken hookup. But you didn’t have much time to think about it because Steve came barreling over from across the room.

“Marcus,” he spoke simply, eyeing the boy up and down. They had been teammates at one point, but now in Steve’s mind, they were mortal enemies. He wasn’t sure why he felt so jealous considering he’s the one who insisted on being friends with benefits and nothing more. But there was no time to dwell on that.

“Hi, Steve. How have you been?” Marcus asked genuinely, seemingly unaware of the growing tension between the three of you. You stood like a deer in headlights, watching and waiting for the tornado to touch down, the hurricane to make landfall, Steve to do something stupid.

“I’m doing great. Mind if I borrow her?” Steve brushed off Marcus’s attempts at friendly conversation, gesturing to you and grabbing ahold of your arm to drag you away before Marcus could even answer. It wasn’t exactly the stupid gesture you thought it would be, more like fists thrown and punches landed, but it still annoyed you just as much.

“What the hell are you doing?” you finally wiggled out of Steve’s grasp as he took you out the front door. You set down the cup that had previously occupied your hand before whipping around angrily to meet Steve’s gaze.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Steve crossed his arms over his chest, staring you down as if he were a parent scolding his disobedient child. 

“It’s a party, Steve. I’m partying,” you rolled your eyes, your voice deadpan as the heat of your rage mixed with the hot summer air. Steve scoffed, moving across the front porch to stand in front of you.

“You know what I mean, sweetheart. What were you doing with Marcus?” Steve’s breath fanned your face, doing nothing to help cool you in your overheated state.

“Whatever I want. You and I aren’t dating, remember?” you gestured between the two of you. Suddenly you felt like you’d been backed into a corner. Steve’s body inched closer to yours, encompassing you against the house’s siding, trapping you with nowhere to go. Partygoers came and went as they pleased, not sparing a passing glance your way as Steve cornered you. For a moment you let yourself get pulled into his allure, succumbing to his overwhelmingly dominant charm.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? To have me all to yourself? Then you wouldn’t have to hook up with other guys to try and make me jealous,” Steve’s lips ghosted over yours in the way that always left you whining for more. But something stopped you.

“Wait,” you put your hands on his chest, pushing him back to give you space. “You think I kissed Marcus to make you jealous?” you asked a very confused Steve as you deliberately ignored the fact that he had admitted to being jealous. Steve’s brow furrowed as he tried to figure out what he said wrong.

“Yeah, why else would you have kissed him?” Steve countered, pulling back from you naturally, allowing more space to blossom between you.

“You’re unbelievable,” you stated, anger boiling up beneath the surface and scorching your skin. “Not everything is about you, dickhead,” you pushed past him, heading back towards the front door, desperately in need of another drink after this. But Steve’s hand shot out, grabbing your arm for a second time that evening. His grip was softer this time, free of the possessive fury that drove him earlier.

“That was shitty. I’m sorry,” he rushed out, dropping the overconfident demeanor. In the complicated web of your relationship, it was often difficult to remember what you truly were: friends. And now, before you, stood a friend who genuinely felt bad for making everything about him. 

“That was really shitty,” you spoke fiercely, still unmoved with Steve’s grip on your arm. “Apology accepted,” you caved, and Steve dropped his hand, ignoring the sudden cold that filled his palm in the absence of his skin on yours.

“Can we just forget about this and go back inside?” Steve asked and you responded with a nod, already halfway to the door. The party was even more crowded than before, making it far more difficult to find Marcus. “Shit,” Steve muttered beside you, pulling your gaze in the same direction as his.

Across the living room on the makeshift dance floor was the blonde girl Steve had been chatting up earlier. A wicked grin spread across your lips as you watched her sloppily suck face with some dude who was sure to be holding back her hair later while she spilled her guts into a toilet. You stifled a laugh, pulling Steve’s attention away from the blonde and back to you.

“See what happens when you meddle in my love life,” you patted him on the shoulder, his frown only making it harder to contain your laughter.

“Yeah, well I don’t see Marcus anywhere. Maybe he’s got some girl holed up in a room somewhere,” he pointed over his shoulder to the hallway of locked bedroom doors. He wanted to make you feel how he felt at that moment like he was the last kid picked for the kickball team. Undesired. Not that it could possibly be true though, because there was always one person who would always want you, even though he’d never admit it.

“Whatever, I’m getting another drink,” you brushed him off, already making your way through the packed room to burst through the kitchen door. You entered the kitchen, unexpectedly bumping into a solid chest clad in orange, white, and green. Marcus.

“Hey, where’d you and Harrington run off to earlier?” he asked, fingers brushing your arms as he steadied you.

“Sorry about that. Steve was having some girl trouble and needed advice,” you lied, though somehow not entirely. Marcus gave you a soft smile with a nod of understanding. “Do you maybe want to get out of here?” you asked, hoping you didn’t scare off the shy, sweet boy before you. 

“Yeah, that sounds nice,” he smiled and you couldn’t help but beam back up at him. You led him back through the throngs of people, passed Eddie who gave you a thumbs up at the sight of Marcus’s hand wrapped around yours, and out the front door.

On the porch steps sat a very deflated Steve, smoking what you were sure wasn’t a cigarette. You told Marcus you’d meet him by his car before sitting down next to Steve.

“Rough night?” you asked as if it was your first time seeing him that evening. He played along with your game though, something he always did.

“You could say that. Think a girl is gonna go home with you and then she’s mackin’ on some other dude,” he blew smoke from his lips, the skunky scent filling the air around you. “Still got you though. What do you say? I can take you back to mine and rock your world, sweetheart,” he wagged his eyebrows at you, his goofy nature peeking through.

It always surprised you how drastically different he could be with you. One minute he’d have you pinned against a wall with his tongue down your throat and the next he’d crack a joke and flub the punchline. The duality of man it seems, or maybe just Steve.

“Sorry, Stevie. I’ve already got a ride,” you pointed towards Marcus who stood leaning up against his car, awaiting your arrival back to his open arms. “See you tomorrow?” you stood, patting him on the knee, and began your trek across the lawn. Steve mumbled out a response, watching as you approached Marcus. 

Upon your arrival, Marcus took you in his arms, placed a soft kiss on your lips, and opened the passenger door for you. Steve watched as you waved to him through the car window, taking another drag from the joint between his fingertips. He wasn’t sure when he started feeling so empty, so complicated when he thought he was devoid of love. But he knew as the taillights disappeared into the dark summer night, that something sparked within him. The lack of strings involved in no strings attached had suddenly appeared and become tangled together.

Dream of us in a year

The cardboard box weighed heavy in your hands as you exited the elevator. Sneakers squeaked against the linoleum floors as you traveled down the hall, stopping in front of a door labeled 217. Your hands fumbled with the handle, struggling to keep the box from falling as you tried to open the door. 

It swung open, revealing a floppy-haired Steve with his sleeves rolled up behind it. He was a year older now, stubble shadowing his upper lip while shallow wrinkles had already started to line his forehead. He grabbed the box from your hands and moved inside, setting it down in the apartment’s living room. You took a moment to look around, taking in the freshly painted walls and soft carpeted floors.

“Can you believe we’ve got this whole place to ourselves?” Steve came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, breathing in the scent of your perfume. Lavender and vanilla.

“You say that as if Eddie, Robin, and the kids won’t constantly be in and out of here,” you spoke, spinning around to face Steve. Steve shrugged, a smirk cresting his lips.

“Not if we don’t give them a key,” Steve asserted, evoking a laugh from you, throwing your head back as the sound spilled from your lips. As if they’d let you and Steve have your own apartment without giving them easy access to it too. Steve took advantage of your thrown-back head and placed his lips on your neck, leaving a trail of kisses up the column of your throat.

“Steve,” you groaned, stuck between wanting him to continue and needing to keep moving your belongings into your new apartment. But Steve continued his attack on your neck, licking over the fresh bruises he painted across your skin.

“C’mon, baby. We’ll have to christen this place at some point. Why not now?” Steve spoke against your neck, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. He pushed you back, your body softly colliding with the end of the kitchen counter.

“We’ve still got boxes to bring up,” you answered in heavy, panting breaths. Steve’s hand came up to cup your cheek, his lips traveling to yours in a bruising heat. He was weakening your resolve by the second.

“You really want to stop, then we’ll stop,” Steve stated, pulling back from your lips. He was calling your bluff, you knew that. But your lips missed his and you suddenly felt so cold without his body pressed to yours. So you caved.

“Fuck it, we’ll get ‘em later,” you pulled Steve back in, crashing your lips back together. Steve’s hand drifted from its place on your cheek, moving down your body. He stopped at your breast, giving it a squeeze, before moving down to your shorts.

In one fell swoop, Steve pulled your shorts and panties down your legs and replaced the cloth of your underwear with his fingertips. He brushed against your wet folds, coating his fingers in your juices. A whimper slipped from within you, Steve’s teasing only arousing you more.

He finally slipped a finger in and curled it. Your knees buckled, hands gripping the cool granite countertop to hold you steady.

“Shit, Steve. Feels so good,” he continued his motion, adding another finger. You could feel the tension building within you like a rubber band threatening to snap. You just got to the edge when…

You startled awake, abruptly sitting up and slamming the side of your head into something.

“Ah fuck, that hurt,” you said, rubbing the aching spot and leaning back into the couch.

“You’re telling me,” Steve said from beside you, also touching his head in pain. You’d fallen asleep on his shoulder and slammed your head into his when you snapped awake.

“Sorry, had a weird dream,” you apologized before directing your attention back to the movie you’d been watching before you fell asleep.

“Yeah? What was it about,” Steve prodded, trying to pull your focus back to him. He was clearly just as bored with whatever movie was playing as you had been.

“I, uh, don’t really remember,” you lied poorly, keeping your eyes off of Steve. It felt weird to face him after your dream. It made you feel guilty like your subconscious wanted your relationship with Steve to be more than what it was.

“Liar,” Steve concluded after studying your avoidant gaze. He inched closer, his body turned towards you in his spot on the couch. “You had a sex dream,” he accused and your head snapped in his direction. Your wide-eyed gaze only confirmed what Steve had already guessed. “Holy shit,” he exclaimed with a smile on his face.

“Nope. No. I didn’t have a sex dream,” you denied but Steve was already ignoring you, lost in a slew of his own thoughts.

“You had a sex dream while sleeping on my shoulder. Should I be flattered or offended? Well, I’d be flattered if it was about me. Was it about me?” Steve rambled, ignoring your protests. Once again, your avoidant eyes told Steve everything he needed to know.

“So what? We’ve had actual sex. What’s it matter if I dreamed about it?” you spoke defensively once you realized there was no point in hiding the truth. In the heat of the moment, you hadn’t realized that your body now faced Steve.

“Nothing wrong with it, babe. Just wish you’d told me sooner. We could already be working on making your dream a reality,” he wiggled his eyebrows at you, earning a chuckle in response. Steve leaned in, his body hovering over yours, lips just a breath away from touching.

“No thanks, Stevie,” you pushed him back playfully, knowing he’d be back on you in a second. Just as you expected he moved back in, closing any distance between you.

“Don’t dream it, be it,” he whispered, placing a soft kiss on the corner of your mouth.

“Don't you dare quote Rocky Horror at me right now,” you scolded Steve with a smile, one that he reflected back at you.

“Let me kiss you then,” he spoke softly, tenderly, like it was his biggest desire. You melted, feeling some form of intimacy that rarely reared its head during your hookups with Steve. The walls between you fell down, allowing Steve’s lips to meet yours. 

It was soft, gentler than he’d ever kissed you before. As if a switch had been flipped within you both, the lust and desire that had been building for months finally reached its peak and spilled out from each of your lips.

Steve’s knee came up between your thighs, adding the friction you desperately needed after the combination of your dream and his kiss. You pulled apart for a second so you could take off your top and bra, your eyes refusing to leave Steve’s as you did. 

You laid flat on your back, extending an open invitation for Steve to swoop in. His gaze on you was hungry and lustful, but it was also something else, something different than it ever had been before. If you didn’t know any better you'd think the look in his eyes was love.

Steve followed suit, removing his own shirt and shimming out of his pants and boxers. He pulled your shorts and panties from your legs, staring open-mouthed at your exposed core. Your dream already had your folds coated in desire, begging to be lapped up by Steve’s skilled tongue. He wanted to taste you, to devour you in the way you both loved, but your hand stopped him.

“Stevie, need you now,” you whined breathily, Steve’s eyes catching yours once again. He nodded, moving up to hover over your body that lay flat against the couch. Your slick made it easy for him to slip in, earning whimpers from both of you as your walls sucked him in.

Steve watched your face for a moment, simply because he could, because he wanted to. He admired the scrunch of your brow, the slight gape of your lips, and the pleading look in your eye. It only enticed him more, finally encouraging him to move.

With a sharp breath, Steve pulled out a bit before pushing back in. It was slow and deep, a stark contrast to the usual fast and rough nature of your hookups with Steve. He was hitting places deep within you, pulling silent moans from your lips.

Your hands searched for something to hold, to guide you through the pleasure Steve’s thrusts were forging. One hand landed on his back, gripping tightly to his skin. The other fell flat against the couch, an open palm facing up by your shoulder. 

Steve, who had been so consumed with studying the way your face screwed up as he dragged his cock in and out of you, noticed the fall of your hand. He grabbed it quickly, interlocking his fingers with yours. Steve thrust harder then, though he maintained his steady pace. His eyes locked with yours once more, labored breaths dancing in the small space between his lips and yours. 

Steve ground down hard, your hips matching his rhythm as you both neared your highs. You suddenly felt shy. The press of Steve’s body to yours combined with the intensity of your locked eyes, making you glance elsewhere.

“Baby,” Steve’s breathy voice rang out, his free hand turning your face and bringing your gaze back to him. “Want you to look at me when you cum. Need to see it. Please, baby,” he begged, the rhythm of his thrusts faltering slightly, telling you that he was close.

You just nodded, leaning up a bit to kiss him. Steve savored the feel of your lips on his before you pulled back, meeting his gaze as requested. The pressure in the pit of your stomach became too much. Your hand squeezed Steve’s tightly as your face contorted in pleasure and your walls fluttered around him.

Steve watched as you hit your high, continuing his thrusts as your thighs shook and your moans of his name echoed throughout the room. He couldn’t hold on any longer, reaching his own peak with a low groan of your name. His eyes never left yours as he pumped his hot ropes of cum into you and watched you unwind. 

After you’d both calmed down, breaths evening out, and chests no longer heaving, Steve gently pulled out. He kept his body on yours, placing a gentle kiss on your lips. Then he got up, retrieving a damp washcloth to clean you both up. 

The both of you redressed and resumed your previous spots on the couch, pretending to pay attention to the movie again. You tried to ignore the shift in the air, the warmth that filled your chest at the thought of what just happened. 

Steve did the same, his wandering eyes glazed over as he got lost in thought about the whole ordeal. Something occurred to him then, something too important to ignore. His past few hookups hadn’t made him feel anywhere close to how good he just felt with you, how good he always felt with you.

The other girls were always too loud or too demanding or too submissive, but were they really? Steve would get hung up on some flaw while with them, no matter how big or small, and effectively throw off the whole thing for himself. 

But as he sat there with the smell of sex still lingering in the air and some shitty movie playing on the screen in front of him, Steve realized that the other girls’ biggest flaw was always just that they weren’t you. And maybe Steve didn’t want no strings attached anymore. Maybe he just wanted you. And he had no clue how to tell you.

I’m still hanging around

Family Video hadn’t seen a customer for the past hour and forty-five minutes. The front counter had been wiped clean at least six times and all the tapes were put back into the system and reshelved, leaving Robin and Steve with absolutely nothing to do.

They’d resorted to taking turns trying to catch candy in their mouths when the bell sounded from above the front door. You strolled in with a furrowed brow as you watched Robin pick a stray skittle from her hair.

“Congrats on the big promotion, Steven,” you called out, approaching the counter with a wide smile. Steve’s new name tag with the words “Shift Lead” printed beneath his name shined in the store's harsh overhead lighting. Before Steve could thank you or comment on the use of his full name, Robin spoke up, effectively interrupting him.

“Thank god, someone to talk to other than this bozo,” Robin gestured to Steve who shot her a frown. “So tell me, how’d your date go last night?” she asked, leaning forward on her elbows and abandoning the half-empty pack of Skittles that sat on the counter.

Steve rolled his eyes at the mention of you going on another date with another guy, likely with some douchebag who didn’t deserve you. He took that as his cue to leave, wandering around the store to make himself look busy and avoid overhearing any talk of how soft this new guy’s lips were. Steve could still feel the pang of jealousy that lived in the pit of his stomach ever since you said that about some guy you went out with last week.

Despite his recent revelation, Steve had made no move to make his feelings known to you. He was caught in limbo between being seconds from spilling his guts to you at any given moment and refraining out of the fear of ruining your friendship. The more he heard of you going out with other guys, the more he doubted whether his feelings would be reciprocated.

“That bad?” Robin practically shouted in response to what you told her about your date, dragging Steve from his thoughts and drawing him into your conversation. He lingered near the movie shelves, just close enough to hear as you recounted the way your date more or less slobbered into your mouth when you made out.

“I had to chug half a bottle of mouthwash to feel like I wasn’t drowning in his saliva anymore,” you sighed, resting your chin in your hand as you leaned against the counter.

“That sucks, man,” Robin said, patting your shoulder comfortingly. The bell above the door rang out and Robin peered over your shoulder to catch a look at the customer. Robin glanced at Steve, hoping he’d help whoever just walked in, but he simply pointed over his shoulder, indicating for her to get to work. “Shit, duty calls,” she spoke quickly, rushing from behind the counter to greet the new customer.

“So,” Steve appeared seemingly out of nowhere, sliding behind the counter to stand where Robin previously was. “I told my parents about my promotion and they want to take me out to a nice dinner,” Steve’s gaze was drawn to the glass counter in front of him, suddenly unable to look at you.

“That sounds nice. I’m glad they’re finally recognizing your achievements,” you beamed at him, eyes scanning over his messy hair. He’d clearly been running his hands through it, nervously tugging the perfectly styled strands out of place.

“Yeah,” he started, letting out a huff of breath as he spoke. “They want you to come too,” he finally met your confused gaze. Your brows lifted and your mouth fell agape as you processed Steve’s words.

“Me? What? Why?” was all you could get out, words stuttered as your head filled with questions.

“Well, remember that time they came home early and nearly caught us in the kitchen so we played it off like we were about to make breakfast?” Steve asked, watching as your cheeks heat in embarrassment from the memory.

“The French toast incident. Yeah, I remember,” you nodded, curious about its connection to Steve’s upcoming celebratory dinner.

“Ever since then, they’ve been convinced that we’re dating. No matter how many times I’ve told them we’re not, they still think we’re together. They call you my girlfriend and everything,” Steve informed you, and it was like a light bulb went off in your head.

“The very few interactions I’ve had with them make a lot more sense now,” you stated, recalling all the times Steve’s parents asked you very girlfriend-esque questions. “Anyways, I’ll be there. Anything to support my little Stevie,” you pinched his cheek and Steve couldn’t help but laugh. 

Robin rounded the front counter, barreling Steve aside to ring up the customer she’d been dealing with. You took that as your indication to leave. You spun on your heels, heading back to the front door when Steve called out behind you.

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow at seven,” Steve spoke and you just kept walking, finally stopping as you reached the door.

“See you then, Stevie,” you smiled at him, pushing open the door and walking out into the summer sun. 

Steve wasn’t sure why his palms were so sweaty all of a sudden. Maybe he could blame it on the rundown air conditioner that Keith refused to replace. But he knew deep down that it was you. It was always you. His chest filled with butterflies at the thought of taking you out on a real date, despite the annoying addition of his parents. He’d treat you better than any of the other guys had before. He’d make you want to be his in the same way that he wanted to be yours, that he was sure of.

I know what you tell your friends

Steve picked you up right when he said he would, watching as you descended your driveway in a sundress. He couldn’t help the silent gasp that fell from his lips, so taken aback by your beauty. The passenger door swung open and you slid into the seat, meeting Steve’s admiring gaze with a smile.

“Ready, boyfriend?” you teased, leaning into the role that Steve’s parents expected you to play. Steve could’ve sworn that his heart stopped as the word fell from your lips. He hadn’t known until then how much he wanted to hear you call him that.

“You bet, girlfriend,” he snapped himself out of his stupor and finally responded, driving off in the direction of the restaurant.

Butterflies bloomed in your stomach, their delicate wings swarming deep within you. Things had been different with Steve recently but you weren’t sure why. His longing stares and flushed cheeks raised feelings from deep within that you were unable to identify, pushing them aside for the sake of your friendship.

The restaurant came into view and you noticed the nervous tap of Steve’s fingers on the steering wheel. When the car came to a stop you took hold of his hand, wrapping his palm with yours and easing the worries that plagued him.

“I’ll be with you the whole time,” you spoke softly, comfortingly. Steve’s eyes softened, his head nodding as his nerves melted away at the tingle of his hand enveloped in yours.

The restaurant was packed when you entered, your hand still interlocked with Steve’s. It didn’t take long to find Steve’s parents though, all you had to do was follow the sound of a woman complaining that her ice water had too much ice.

“Hi Mom, Dad,” Steve greeted his parents, pulling their attention to the two of you standing on the opposite side of the table. Steve’s parents were not the touchy kind, opting for a simple nod of their head in greeting rather than a handshake or hug.

“It’s nice to see you again, dear,” Mrs. Harrington addressed you, a plastic smile upturning the corners of her lips. The conversation continued, Steve’s parents pestering you both with questions.

“Steve tells me that you’re in school?” Mr. Harrington questioned, his gaze peering at you through the thick lenses of his glasses. You were taken aback by his question, not expecting him to know much about you. Steve had talked about you to his parents? He’d told them about you and your personal life?

“Yes, I am. I’m enrolled at the community college for now but I plan to transfer to a state school once I get my associate's degree,” you did your best to remain calm under the intense gaze of Steve’s parents, though the foundations of your cool facade were beginning to crack. Steve noticed the panic that creased your brow, taking it upon himself to clutch your hand in his under the table. Relief flooded you instantly, calmed by the warm caress of Steve’s skin on yours.

“That’s a good plan,” Mr. Harrington spoke again, turning his gaze from you to his son. “Seems much better than working at a video store with no thought of the future,” his face remained straight as he insulted Steve as if it were second nature by now.

Steve’s admiring smile, the one that stretched his lips at his father’s approval of your current path, faltered at the harsh words directed his way. Your hand squeezed Steve’s, reminding him that you were still there, that the insensitive words of the man before him didn’t matter. 

“Dad,” Steve started but was quickly silenced by the raise of his father’s hand. It was like watching a dog following its owner’s command to sit. Steve was well trained by now, knowing when to be quiet, but you weren’t.

“With all due respect Mr. Harrington, Steve has worked his ass off at Family Video,” you defended, ignoring the gasp that came from Mrs. Harrington at your use of profanity. “Steve earned his promotion through hard work and dedication, two principles that I thought a businessman like yourself would greatly value,” you continued, your hand still clasped against Steve’s as your rage boiled over.

“Well, yes but-” Mr. Harrington began but you interrupted him before he could continue.

“Maybe it’s not the most glamorous job in the world, but Steve is learning valuable skills that can easily translate to other jobs later on,” you stated while Steve’s parents sat dumbfounded across from you, not used to being talked back to. “It's a shame you can’t see how wonderful and compassionate your son is. You should be proud of the man he’s becoming. I know I am,” your eyes roamed the dropped jaws of Steve’s parents and held back a smile at their shocked expressions.

You turned to Steve then, his gaze securely fastened on you. A smirk danced on his lips as he admired the crease in your forehead and the angry pinch of your brows. He watched as your expression unraveled, softening as your eyes landed on him. 

Steve was speechless, stunned by your fierce loyalty on his behalf. He wanted to kiss you so badly, crush his lips to yours in a way that left a bruise by the time you pulled away for air. But he held himself back, not wanting to make you uncomfortable with such a public display of affection.

“If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to freshen up in the restroom,” you gently pulled your hand from Steve’s, pushing your chair back and knocking some silverware off the table in the process. Steve watched as you walked away, encapsulated by the sway of your hips and the skin exposed by the movement of your dress with each step.

“I’ll go get some clean silverware,” Steve leaned down, picking up the utensils that littered the ground. He then quickly followed in your direction, leaving his still-shocked parents alone at the table. He approached the bathroom, a single-user restroom, and knocked on the door.

“Occupied,” you called out through the door, barely heard over the conversations and soft music that filled the restaurant.

“It’s me,” Steve said into the door, hoping not to attract too much attention from the tables nearby. The lock turned quickly, allowing Steve to push the door open and step into the small bathroom with you.

He clicked the lock back into place before turning to face you. His eyes read yours, receiving their open invitation, so he grasped your face, pulling it to meet his. Steve kissed you in the way he desired to only minutes before, with a rough clash of teeth and tongues that left you breathless.

“That was so fucking hot,” he spoke into your lips, one hand caressing your cheek as the other trailed down to your exposed legs, roaming the expanse of your bare thighs. 

“Steve,” you tried to break free from his kiss, but his lips followed yours. “Your parents are still at the table,” you reminded him, knowing that he intended to do far more than just kiss you.

“We’ll just have to be quick then,” his lips caressed yours again, his hand moving inwards, meeting the seam of your panties. You were conflicted, worry washing over you at the possibility of being caught. But Steve’s touch momentarily quelled the burning heat that bloomed between your legs.

His fingers slipped beneath your panties, tracing the outline of your folds, swiping at the dampness that began to form. He swiftly pulled your panties down, helping you step out of them before shoving them into his back pocket. Steve leaned you over the sink, unzipping his pants and slipping his hardened cock from the confines of the material.

You watched him through the mirror in front of you, his hands stroking his cock before lining it up with your entrance. He eased in, slipping in inch by inch before bottoming out. A moan slipped past his lips as he quickly pulled out and thrust back in, giving you little time to adjust. 

His thrusts were harsh and rough, knocking you forward with each motion. Your elbows that propped you up slid against the sink’s smooth countertop, bringing you closer and closer to the mirror with each movement. But Steve didn’t let up, forcefully pounding his cock into your core as he whimpered above you.

“Fuck, babe,” he groaned, his hands holding your hips in place. “It’s like your pussy was made for me. Squeezing me so good,” he didn’t let up, fucking you desperately, like he’d never get to do it again. 

“Mmhmm,” you hummed, suppressing your moans, not wanting to be heard by the rest of the restaurant. 

“So close, baby,” Steve leaned down, pressing kisses to your bare shoulders while maintaining his fierce pace. Your high was building along with Steve’s as he brushed a spot deep within you. 

“Oh fuck, I’m cumming,” Steve spoke suddenly, catching you off guard as he spilled into you. Steve’s thrusts faltered as he pumped his cum deep within your folds. “All mine. Want you to be all mine,” he whispered into your skin, slumping against your folded body. It took a moment before he stood up straight again, regaining his composure and tucking his cock back into his pants.

You stood up with him, wide eyes watching him from the mirror. He fixed his disheveled hair, not noticing the shocked expression that you wore. You hadn’t cum, hadn’t had enough time for your orgasm to fully build before Steve spilled his seed into you. You also couldn’t ignore the words he muttered against you. Words that spoke of a relationship, something more. The same words that Steve seemed to be completely oblivious to having said. 

“You okay?” Steve asked, finally noticing your worried look. You nodded, observing the boy who seemed to have unknowingly confessed his desires to you. “I’ll leave you to freshen up. I gotta go get more silverware,” he pulled the dirty silverware from his pocket that didn’t have your panties before opening the door and leaving you pantyless, alone in the bathroom with frazzled thoughts and his cum leaking down your thigh.

“What the fuck?” you mumbled to yourself, locking the door once more and cleaning yourself up. Did Steve want to be with you? Did he want to have you in the way you secretly hoped?

Your thoughts still raced as you exited the restroom, weaving through tables to get back to where you previously sat. But something caught your attention, or more like someone. Steve stood with a waiter, some guy you recognized from high school but couldn’t quite name off the top of your head.

“Are you two dating? Never thought I’d see the day when King Steve finally got tied down,” the unnamed waiter said, earning a grin from Steve. You were curious to know his answer, to hear what he said about you when you weren’t around. 

“Nah, man. She’s just some girl that lets me fuck her on my couch,” Steve chuckled, running a hand through his hair. The color drained from your face, breath exhaled shakily as tears welled in your eyes. His response was a far cry from what he’d whispered as he came inside you just moments ago.

Your feet carried you away, stumbling back to the table to avoid being seen by Steve. You plopped into your chair, meeting the skittish gazes of Steve’s parents. Their expressions reminded you of your words from before, how you defended Steve, how very wrong you may have been. 

Steve appeared a minute later clutching a new set of silverware and spewing an apology for how long it took. He placed the silverware in front of you, replacing your soiled set. His hand came to rest on your thigh and you couldn’t help the way you flinched at his touch. It was as if he was a completely different person to you now. 

Conversation resumed, Steve easing the tension at the table and re-engaging with his parents. You chimed in when needed, staying silent otherwise, consumed by thought. Steve’s parents had warmed up to you again by the end of the meal, despite how shutdown you had become.

“Steve should bring you to our house in Long Beach sometime. It’s gorgeous this time of year,” Mrs. Harrington suggested and you forced on a fake smile, one that didn’t quite reach your eyes, as you nodded. You and Steve thanked his parents for dinner before heading back to Steve’s car. 

The drive back to your house was quiet, your eyes peering through the window, gazing at the passing scenery, doing anything to keep from looking at the boy next to you. Steve came to a stop in front of your driveway and you immediately opened the door, stumbling out and starting the walk to your front door.

“What are you doing?” Steve called after you, exiting his car and following behind you. 

“Going into my house,” you said, not bothering to turn around or stop, continuing your trek to the door.

“No kiss? No goodbye?” Steve questioned, finally reaching you at your doorstep. You had been fumbling with your keys, struggling to unlock the door. Steve’s hand landed on your shoulder and you snapped, abandoning your keys in the lock and whipping around to face him.

“Why does it matter? I’m just some girl that lets you fuck her on your couch, right? So why do you care?” anger spilled out of you with each syllable, causing Steve to pull back, his foot falling down a step, letting you tower over him. “Yeah, I heard you, asshole,” your words spewed from your lips as Steve’s mouth opened, silently fumbling for words.

“I didn’t-” Steve began before you cut him off.

“You don’t have to worry about people thinking you’re tied down anymore, King Steve,” you turned back to your front door, finally managing to get it unlocked. You took a step inside while Steve still stood on the doorstep. “Maybe you can find some other girl to fuck around with instead,” you slammed the door shut, sinking against it and falling to the ground as the tears you held in finally leaked down your cheeks. You didn’t mean it, of course you didn’t mean it. But the hurt and anger tore you apart as you sobbed into your hands.

Steve stood still on your doorstep, his feet rooted to the spot, staring at the closed door. He loved you, he knew that for sure. As his glassy eyes traced the spot where you just stood, he felt his heart crack and shatter, its pieces filling the pit of his stomach with enough force to make bile rise in his throat. Steve knew he loved you, and unfortunately, he knew that he also just lost you.

Someone you couldn’t lose

“I really would rather just go back home. Why do you even need me for this?” you asked Eddie, his arm interlocked with yours, dragging you forward. He continued his steady pace, not letting up despite your dragging feet that weighed him down.

“Because you haven’t done anything but cry for the past few days. You need to leave your cave of solitude,” Eddie’s breath was a bit labored as he led you to the entrance of The Hideout. “Plus Gareth canceled on me and I didn’t want to go by myself,” Eddie added, eliciting an eye roll from you.

“Why couldn’t you take Robin or, I don’t know, literally anyone else?” you asked while Eddie guided you through the bar. The bar was practically empty, the crowd even smaller than when Corroded Coffin usually plays. God, the band playing tonight must suck.

“Because I enjoy your company, sweetheart,” Eddie hummed, plastering a sickeningly sweet smile on his lips. A smile that you met with a glare. “And Robin is busy with Steve tonight,” he revealed his true reason for inviting you.

In another universe, a less complicated one, you would be mad at Eddie for being his last-resort concert buddy. But in this universe, the one where you and Steve were interlinked in an ever-so-tangled web, your heart stopped at the mention of his name.

Steve’s crude words played through your head like a bad earworm, momentarily overtaking your thoughts as your face faltered. Eddie watched the quiver of your lip and crease in your brow. He ached at the thought of your sadness, wanting to alleviate any trace of it, which is why he brought you to The Hideout, but not for the reason that you might think.

“Let’s go get a drink,” Eddie put his hand on your back ushering you towards the nearly empty bar. For once today, he didn’t have to drag you, your feet willingly trailing along behind him at the thought of alcohol. Eddie plopped down on a stool ordering you both a drink while you slid in beside him. 

The drinks were quickly made and paid for, leaving the two of you to sip away in silence. Your gaze drifted around the bar, curiously eyeing its patrons. Something didn’t seem right as you scanned the stage set up on the side of the room.

“Eddie,” you took a sip of your drink, focus shifting back to the boy next to you. “If there’s a show tonight then why is it so empty in here?” the question left your lips and Eddie’s nervous stare landed on the wood surface of the bar below. 

The front door slammed open, saving Eddie from your question. Your head whipped around at the sound of the door in combination with the hushed voices that filled the room. Steve and Robin. They were arguing about something, but you couldn’t hear them. The sounds that encompassed the bar slipped away, leaving your ears ringing in the stark silence. 

Watery eyes gazed upon the boy across the bar that was too enveloped in his conversation to look up. Eddie cleared his throat beside you, but your eyes didn’t leave Steve, roaming over his wild hair and disheveled clothes. Eddie may not have been able to get your attention, but he did get Steve’s, drawing his awareness until his eyes landed on you.

Steve froze in place, his pink lips parting in surprise as he traced your features. His heart ached at the distance between you, both metaphorical and physical. You couldn’t help but feel the same as you got down from your stool, feet pulling you closer. 

Steve met you halfway, stopping in the middle of the room, uncaring of the questioning looks you both attracted in the process. Words were lost on the tip of your tongue, incapable of leaving your lips.

“I didn’t know you were going to be here,” Steve spoke breathlessly, a nervous hand running through his hair. “Robin dragged me here, but I can leave if you want,” Steve offered, but you quickly found yourself shaking your head.

“Can we talk?” you asked, your voice small like a child who’d just been scolded. Steve nodded quickly, taking no time to think over your suggestion. He didn’t need to, all he could think about for the past few days was how badly he wanted to talk to you. The ache in his chest only grew more painful with each passing day of silence. 

With his hand grasped in yours, you led Steve out the side door to an alleyway next to The Hideout. Your hand tingled at the warmth of Steve’s palm pressed gently against yours. Reluctantly, you dropped his hand, leaning against the building as Steve’s wandering gaze studied you nervously. He wasn’t sure whether you wanted to speak first or not, but he just couldn’t hold it in any longer, succumbing to his urge to expel an explanation.

“I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I said that about you,” Steve spewed out, his words desperate and pleading, frown lines etched deep into his skin.

“Is that really how you feel about me? That I’m just some girl?” you asked, voice quiet and broken, stifled by the tears welling in your eyes. You couldn’t meet his gaze, embarrassed to sound so small, so reliant on his opinion of you.

“No, absolutely not,” Steve shook his head immediately, stepping closer to you. “I just- I’ve been feeling a certain way about you lately, but I didn’t want to scare you. So I downplayed it, tried to make it seem like it was nothing to that guy from high school, but it is something,” Steve confessed, scanning your face for any hint of what you were thinking. He couldn’t find what he was looking for in your avoidant stare and his shoulders deflated.

A cool summer breeze whispered in the space between your bodies, bringing a chill to your skin as you thought over Steve’s words. You could feel the way his eyes searched you, pleading for a sign, but you didn’t budge, not when you didn’t have the answer you were looking for yet.

“And how exactly have you been feeling about me lately?” you finally look up, meeting Steve’s desperate stare. His lips parted, tongue darting out to wet them as he mulled over his next words. You were giving him a shot, a chance to lay it all out on the line. Steve just had to be smart enough, brave enough, to take it.

“Like I love you,” Steve asserted with shaky hands, carefully watching you for a reaction. The breath in your lungs fled, your eyes widening a bit and then softening in sweet admiration while the corner of your lips ticked upwards ever so slightly, which only encouraged Steve to continue. “Like I want to be with you all the time, not just late at night or when neither of us can get laid. I want you to be mine and for me to be yours,” his feet carried him closer to you, his spearmint and cigarette scented breath fanning warmly across your face. “Do you want that too?” he asked, his confidence dwindling by the second, making his voice as small as yours had been earlier.

His eyes darted back and forth tracing your soft skin, your lengthy eyelashes, and your plush lips. Steve was dying for your answer, just on the brink of falling to his knees and begging, but if there was even the slightest possibility that you were to reject him then he wanted to savor this moment beforehand. The calm before the storm.

He wanted to memorize the curve of your cheeks, every beauty mark or scar expanding across your skin, the way the moonlight illuminated your face in the dark of the night. Steve decided he could wait forever for you to speak your next syllable as long as he got to stay in this moment and simply be with you. But despite his desire to freeze time, your mouth opened, effectively sealing Steve’s potential fate with you.

“Yes,” your answer came out breathlessly like you had just finished running a marathon, and based on how fast your heart was pounding in your chest, you might as well have. Steve exhaled in a smile, his tongue wetting his lips once more. He wanted nothing more than to caress your supple skin and kiss you. So he did.

Steve wrapped you in his arms, pulling you flush against him, and searched your face for reassurance. When he found what he was looking for, Steve dived in, pressing his lips to yours. It was far from the first time you’d kissed, but something felt different this time. It was years of buried feelings finally clawing their way to the surface and announcing that they were here to stay. You pulled away with a smile and your forehead pressed to his.

“You know,” Steve spoke, words just above a whisper as he attempted to catch his breath. “Now that I think about it, there’s no way we coincidentally ended up in the same place at the same time,” he finished, arching a brow at you, hoping you’d understand what he was implying.

“Eddie and Robin definitely set this up,” you caught on to his train of thought.

“Definitely,” Steve agreed. He should be mad, he really should be. His friends had no right to meddle in his love life like this. But how could he be upset when he had you cradled in his arms and your chapstick smeared across his lips?

“I hate them,” you voiced, clearly unserious in your statement.

“I don’t,” Steve peered down at you, catching the reflection of the crescent moon in your eyes. “They brought me back to you,” he shrugged with a smile and you couldn't help but mirror him before closing the space between you with another kiss.

After a few more shared smiles and soft kisses, you and Steve decided to go back into the bar. It was just as empty as it had been before, further proving to you that Eddie lied in order to get you and Steve together. Steve’s hand was clasped around yours as you walked further in, spotting Eddie and Robin sitting across from one another in a booth.

“Follow my lead,” you whispered as the pair finally saw the two of you approaching. Wide smiles stretched their lips at the sight of you hand in hand. 

“So Eddie, when’s this band coming on?” you asked, coming to a stop at the end of the booth. Eddie’s eyes widened at your question, having expected you to forget about how he got you to The Hideout under false pretenses, especially given the fact that you’d made up with Steve.

“There, uh, isn’t one for tonight,” Eddie stuttered, looking like a deer in headlights at the arch of your brow.

“Oh,” you did your best to look taken aback like this wasn’t the answer you had expected. “So you lied?” you questioned, your tone expressing more confusion rather than anger, which only made Eddie more nervous. His mouth hung agape while Steve and Robin stifled their giggles and smirks.

“How about I get everyone a drink?” Eddie stood up quickly, looking for an escape. “Steve? Wanna help?” Eddie backed away from you and headed towards the bar. Steve released his hand from yours, shaking his head with a smile as he followed behind.

You slid into Eddie’s vacated seat, across from Robin. She still had a smirk etched into her face when your gazes met.

“Don't think you’re off the hook too,” you stated and her smirk fell almost comically. Your gaze drifted from her to the bar, landing on Steve. He was already facing you with a warm smile.

“I love you,” he mouthed to you, and you felt your breath catch again. It was something you’d have to get used to. After so long of denying your feelings and the insistence to stay casual, it would be a big change. But it was a change you were more than happy to accommodate.

“I love you too,” you mouthed back, and you really did mean it.

[dadsbongos]

CAN U PLSSSS WRITE A CUTE DENJI FIC OR HEADCANON/DRABBLE?? honestly idrc care which it is (obvi longer is preferred but i understand and am open to whatevs u give)

like about reader (fem) has a journal and in it she wrote about her dream dude, but like perfectly described denji and accidentally left it out and while they were hanging out or something cuz they besties he sees it and realized like "dude, that's me!" or something and then like a fluffy confession or something IDK that's just what i have sprinting through my brain rn 🤓

also maybe a lil kiss 🙏

thank you for giving me a denji idea... been fiending to write for him and just had 0 ideas

word count - 1.5 K / warnings - fem reader, not proofread!!, au where makima dies and denji just gets to be happy with special division 4 and they are familycore

~~~

“And the point of this is…?”

“I dunno,” Himeno answers honestly, shrugging, “I read somewhere that you can tell a lot about someone from their partner.”

“None of us are dating,” Aki huffs, fingers itching over the protrusion of his lighter in his pocket.

“Their preference in a partner,” Himeno groans in annoyance, gesturing out to the collection of papers in front of each of you, “Besides, what else do we have to do right now?”

Fair question, no matter how junky the science behind Himeno's apparent reading, not one of you had anything better to do. A storm was raging outside the Hayakawa apartment, all of Special Division Four having pooled there before the clouds even rolled in. Before Kobeni could shyly crawl out from the rambunctious crowd, there was lightning and thunder and an ear-piercing flood warning blasting on the television. 

So, Aki swallows the rest of his complaints and puts his head down with the rest of your division. His pencil sprawling over the paper Himeno slammed in front of him to describe his ideal significant other. A tedious task he's all too eager to bullshit through as soon as Himeno is finished staring down at him.

Denji is tapping the eraser of his pencil against the kitchen island, eyes straying around the living room. He worried his bottom lip between knifepoint teeth; only stopping when he tastes iron. Even Power has started writing.

Even you have begun writing. He wonders what you're writing. He wishes he could stretch his neck and take a peek without being obvious. He wishes he could read it at all.

Denji draws a stick figure that takes up a quarter of the page, dragging the lead back over the chest to add breasts. He glances at you through the side of his eye before adding hair and a small smile. And the black hair tie snug around your wrist even though he's only ever seen you lend it to Kobeni and Angel. Now he really can't avoid it: Denji has no idea how to write. 

Hopefully he can just coast with a bland drawing and let everybody think he's as shallow as they probably already believe. But when he lifts his head to glimpse at everyone else's pages, Himeno is already freezing him solid with her icy glare. Denji tucks his chin to his chest and subtly twists in the island stool to look at your paper again. 

Bullet points go five lines down the page; and the only thing he can make out is one of the few characters Aki’s taught Denji at his request:

愚か. Stupid.

Denji's eyes bounce back up to your face, eyes a little gooey and smile all soft. He knows that goofy look well, it's how he finds himself everytime he thinks about you. Before he can lose himself in that, he's jealous. You're making that lovestruck face over some stupid guy that Denji can't even write a strongly worded letter to. 

Denji writes one of the other few things Aki has taught him. Your name with a bold arrow pointing down at the stick figure. 

Then he erases it. He scrubs the pink bud over your name so hard he tears the paper in half. A loud shirrr dragging every eye to his hunched form, shoulders hiking higher over his face at the increased attention.

“Hark! The fool cannot even spell!” Power cackles, “Show me his words! Show me his mistake!”

“Power,” you chide, as though she's a fitful toddler and not a horrific Fiend, “Be nice. You can't write either.”

“Liar!” she points at you with a shaking finger.

Kobeni shyly taps Power on the shoulder before pointing at the paper overflowing with Power's manic ideals of a partner, “Anything else…?”

“Honesty!” she glares at you sharply, “And unwavering devotion!”

“Right…” Kobeni mutters unsurely, neglecting her own paper as she continues to scribble on Power's.

“Ignore her,” you scoot your stool closer to Denji and he manages to flip his page over before you can see the drawing, “Do you need help?”

He’s nodding before his mouth can even pop open, eventually he manages to sputter alongside it, “Yeah, yeah!” taking full advantage of his new opportunity to squish right against you at the island, “Can you write…”

Patiently, you await his request and he can feel his heart pumping in his throat every time you bat your lashes at him all sweetly. Your pen leaves jet black dots as it dips in your weak grasp, Denji has lots of words to describe you and all of them knot together on the tip of his tongue, tangled and lashing to fall from his lips at once.

Ultimately, he settles for the least descriptive, “Nice.”

“Someone nice,” you nod and scratch that onto his paper, “I like that.”

Denji feels his whole body go junky with sparks of electricity, blood boiling hot at how you feel comfortable enough to drag your paper into his full view. You point at your top bullet point, nail tacking loudly into the surface when his eyes don’t immediately stray from your face to the words below. Your bottom lip is sucked between your teeth as you study his reaction, leaning your face even closer to his.

Though you’re blurry and jumbled in his peripherals, Denji can still make out the upturn of your lips. He looks over the rest of the page, desperately searching for any other words he can make out and mold himself to. That, or cope and make up some ways in which he’s at least comparable to your dream man.

He can make out: Pretty.

Do you think Denji is pretty?

He sees another one he recognizes: 歯 -- teeth -- but there’s two characters before that he’s useless against. 

Denji has teeth.

“Sharp,” you whisper into his ear, tingles raising along his pale flesh.

“Huh…?” Denji turns to look at you, heat rising far up to his ears.

An airy, almost delirious, giggle floats into his ears as you circle the two mysteries before teeth, “Sharp,” then you circle teeth, “Teeth. Sharp teeth.”

“You like guys with sharp teeth?”

“Love ‘em.”

Denji swallows harshly, shakily pointing to the next bullet point, “What’s that mean?”

農民を尊重する.

You press ever closer towards Denji, leaning your chin on his shoulder, “‘Respects farmers.’”

“I respect farmers…” he mutters dumbly, “I love their work.”

“I know you do.”

Denji blinks down at you, his thick lashes beating on his rosying cheeks and spiky teeth punching back into his lip. His breaths are short and hard, red overtaking his cheeks like a flustered little Kewpie doll. So precious and sweet, ready to crack beneath your palms. He’d trust you wholly, and you know you’d treat him well. He knows, too. You’re nice.

You laugh at his stunned face, posture rigid. The sudden shock making his shoulder jab up into your jaw uncomfortably -- you find it terribly charming. 

“I like girls…” Denji sighs out in a tremble, eyes trailing down your face, “I like girls with soft lips.”

“Do you?” you inch closer, by now long forgetting the presence of your friends and colleagues in the apartment. Teasing is fun, but teasing Denji is just the best.

“Mhm.”

.

.

.

After an awkward pause, Denji follows the quiet hum with,

“Can I… kiss you?”

You nod against his shoulder, chin digging down into the bone. Denji stretches his neck to kiss you -- and your lips are even softer and more sugary than he imagined. His hands scratch out to cradle you to himself, continuously parched no matter how much of you he has to drink in. Warm hands and arms around you, clinging and wrapping and pulling. Wincing from the prickle of Denji’s teeth against your lip, you cinch a hand around the chest of his shirt and wrench it towards you -- pulling Denji closer along with it. 

“You like me?” he utters against your lips.

Pulling back, you flip around your paper and sear your index nail around a very recognizable word, “My ideal partner. I was a little scared to share at first…”

Denji almost jumps right off the stool, ready to coop you in his arms and swing you around fully in front of his roommates and coworkers. Instead he laughs in full disbelief to himself, reaching down to squeeze your other hand in both of his. You’re briefly concerned he’s cutting off blood flow before the joy of his pure excitement overtakes that concern. 

DENJI is big and plain over the very top of the page. 

“What changed your mind?”

You snicker right into his ear and reach out to flip over Denji’s paper, torn at the top, “I could tell you felt the same, pretty boy.”

Denji squeezes your hand even tighter, giggling almost feverishly before he’s sliding off the stool, “Wanna go make out in my room?”

“Thanks for having the decency to move now,” an unpleasant sneer breaks Denji’s cloudy dream-turned-reality.

“Fuck you,” Denji hisses at Aki.

“I think it’s cute!” Himeno pushes at the back of Aki’s head, “Focus on yourself!”

You let Denji drag you from the kitchen island and towards his (and Power’s, not that she’ll be allowed in for the next however many hours) room. 

“So, you really think ‘m pretty?” Denji’s voice teeters just on the edge of snarky, but his skittish, red frame speaks louder.

“Prettiest,” you coo, kissing his cheek.

The affection has him seconds away from blurting out an awkward, ill-timed: You’re really my dream girl.

[milezyuni]

𝑯𝑬𝑹𝑬 𝑪𝑶𝑴𝑬𝑺 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑺𝑼𝑵 ☀️

disclaimer; pls be nice this is my first time writing something !

Tags : sunshine reader x grumpy logan // fluff !! // logan in a secret big softie // slight angst // no use of y/n // age gap // im bad at tagging sorry // logan is lowkey emo !! // shit grammar

logan sat at the bar downing another glass of ice cold whiskey when someone sat in the empty seat next to him

“logaaannn !! ” You said with that big smile that never seemed to leave your face. God you were just so happy and smiley all the time i mean jesus why were you so..so nice? why did you spend all your time talking to him when he clearly didnt want shit to do with you ?

He looked over at you and merely grunted in response "so i got you a little something.." you had your hands behind your back and took them out to reveal a plushie of some sort of brown bear.. ferret kind of animal " its a wolverine!! i saw it in the gift shop when i went to the zoo with wadei mean i didnt even know that wolverine was a real thing let alone an animal! so i bought for you since yknow..youre wolverine" you smiled

logan looked at you, then at the toy and then back at you "...thanks" he watched as you smiled in response waved goodbye and went home.

this was a daily encounter, you would visit him in the bar ramble about your day before asking him about his day (which he would respond with a single sentence) sometimes you would leave him little notes or presents and he would pretend to not give a shit about them or you. But the more this routine went on the less Logan could ignore his feelings about you, he couldnt ignore the way his heart skipped a beat when your eyes met his , when your hand grazed his or when you smiled at him...and i mean that smile made logan feel like a lovesick puppy. but he didnt want to love you, because the last time he loved someone shit went sideways and everyone ended up being hurt and the last thing he wanted to do on this earth was hurt you

you walked into the bar your headphone blasting your favourite song , you look up and to your surprise you dont see logan in his usual seat, "hey uhm have you seen logan today? yknow hairy buff dude-" the bartender shakes his head , you assume hes just hungover and is still sleeping at home so you sit down and wait...and you wait....and you wait till 4 hours had past and there was no sight of him, so you got up and left the bar to head over to logans place to make sure he was okay

logan groaned as he heard a knock at his door, he pulled himself off of the couch and stumbled to the door and opened it "logan? are you alright? i was waiting for like 3 hours at the bar and you never showed up" he didnt come to the bar because he knew you would be there.. he didnt want to see you because he knew that if he did he wouldnt be able to push his feelings for you away. his mind began to race he needed to make you stay away.

"jesus fuckin' christ.. do you never take a fuckin' hint?? all you do is follow me around like some parasite. is it even possible for you to shut the fuck up ??" he hissed. his words hitting you life a knife through the back, you felt your eyes sting as you held back tears "im sorry--- im sorry" you practically ran off, all you wanted to do was escape that humiliating moment you wanted to forget it even ever happend.

Logan watched as you sped off his heart filling with guilt, he noticed a folded up piece of paper on the ground where you once stood, you mustve dropped it. He stomped back inside falling back onto his couch as he opened the piece of paper to find a drawing of him smiling with the lyrics from the song 'here comes the sun' scribbled next to it.

-------------------------> [ requests are open ! ] <------------------------

[eds6ngel]

Please friend, I need Eddie and his equally feral grungy little girlfriend. Think like Allison Reynolds from the Breakfast Club before they gave her the hideous pink makeover. I want these two clowns to match each other’s energy, both of them nuts about D&D and metal, and I want her to be the one member of Hellfire who is in charge of drawing these insanely intricate drawings of everyone’s player characters.

being eddie's grungy gf would include ...

a/n: i think this calls for some headcanons! and i suppose this is my reminder to watch 'the breakfast club' as i still haven't gotten round to it ! :')

warnings: SLIGHT SMUT!! (one mention of sex, two allusions.) fem!reader. artsy!reader. grungy!reader. kissing. one mention of people calling eddie a 'freak.' tons of fluff and comfort !!

𝜗𝜚 you guys met in your sophomore year.

𝜗𝜚 eddie had been looking to set up a d&d club at the end of the year, knowing his middle school friends (jeff & gareth) were now going to be in high school with him.

𝜗𝜚 eddie didn’t know that you played d&d at the time, but he had sneaked a glance at your notebook during art class and was very intrigued into your drawings, many which consisted of your own monsters, fairies, dragons, anything magical and mystical.

𝜗𝜚 he knew the opportunity was even greater when you were pinning ‘battle of the bands’ posters in the school hallways. he couldn’t believe it was you making those incredible designs.

𝜗𝜚 asked you right there and then if you could help him design a poster for his new club.

𝜗𝜚 you were unsure at first, wondering what the hell this random dude who was in your art class wanted a poster for.

𝜗𝜚 however, you were immediately on board when he mentioned it was for d&d.

𝜗𝜚 you were technically the first member to join his club. it was you and him against the world at that point.

𝜗𝜚 you asked some of your artsy friends who were also in the drama club if you could rent their space on friday nights for weekly campaigns.

𝜗𝜚 they reluctantly said yes just because it was you. eddie was happy as it was one of the few groups of people outside of his own friend group that weren’t calling him a ‘freak’ upon arrival.

𝜗𝜚 over the summer, you and eddie met up to discuss how the whole ordeal would work. his trailer had basically become your second home by that point.

𝜗𝜚 you had started cooking meals together, you would go out to benny’s for a quick evening bite, you even started sleeping over at his.

𝜗𝜚 you began with bringing over a sleeping bag to camp out on his floor, but it soon turned into the two of you just sharing his bed. platonically, of course.

𝜗𝜚 it wasn’t until jeff and gareth came to visit the two of you so you could start drawing their characters for eddie’s visual reference that they encouraged eddie to grow some balls and ask you out.

𝜗𝜚 it took him a couple more weeks, but he finally got there.

𝜗𝜚 luckily you felt the same and you shared your first kiss that day.

𝜗𝜚 and by the time your junior year rolled around, everything was settled in place.

𝜗𝜚 eddie let you sit on his lap during campaigns, to which the boys always complained about.

𝜗𝜚 and after the boys had left, you got up to some… not exactly PG activities on his throne.

𝜗𝜚 or your throne, should you say. eddie said that the throne was all yours, since you decorated the entire thing.

𝜗𝜚 it was actually a 50/50 split effort.

𝜗𝜚 you were the couple who annoyingly blasted metal music out of his van on late night drives at 2am.

𝜗𝜚 hopper stopped you once as you had been getting noise complaints from locals.

𝜗𝜚 you and eddie both agreed it was only because it was metal music and continued anyway.

𝜗𝜚 eddie didn’t realise how feral you were until you got together. you were pretty excitable when you were simply platonic friends, but this was a whole different level.

𝜗𝜚 he didn’t care though as he loved it (and it also transferred to the bedroom.)

𝜗𝜚 sickly PDA couple alert ! eddie’s kissing you all the time ! the boy cannot keep his hands to himself ! he’s infatuated by you !

𝜗𝜚 always sharing cassettes. the both of you never buy new albums individually anymore. you either listen to them together and nerd out, or you share them back and forth.

𝜗𝜚 friday night dates after d&d ! i repeat, friday night dates after d&d !

𝜗𝜚 followed by some truly amazing sex. thank god wayne took the late night shift on fridays. and you hoped it never changed. because it was always the best ending to your week, and you didn’t want to change it for as long as you lived.

taglist: @cosmorant @ye0nvibezzn @tlclick73 @agxxb

[disciplined-cornfed]

Bookworm to Benchpress

I couldn’t stand my roommate, Caleb, at first. Our online conversations before university had led me to believe he was someone similar to me—reserved and bookish occasional gamer. But the person I met was a whirlwind of energy that exuded force, a stark contrast to my quiet demeanor. Caleb was the epitome of a dude bro, his boisterous charm drawing people like moths to a flame. His presence was overwhelming, and I often found myself irritated, yet intrigued by his larger-than-life persona.

Caleb's influence began subtly. He would often encourage me to join him for early morning workouts. "C'mon, bro. It's good for you," he'd insist, his enthusiasm chipping away at my reluctance. The gym sessions were grueling, yet there was a sense of camaraderie that I couldn’t help but enjoy. His philosophy of 'being built different' was both baffling and inspiring.

Gradually, I found myself being pulled into a more disciplined lifestyle. Caleb was a force of nature, waking up at the crack of dawn with a zeal that was infectious. "Discipline starts with the dawn," he'd proclaim, and I found myself mirroring his routine. I began with 50 push-ups each morning, a task that seemed insurmountable at first, but grew easier with time. Breakfasts transformed from sugary cereals to eggs and orange juice, fueling my body in ways I hadn’t imagined.

Then came the cold showers, a practice that initially felt like torture. "It's about pushing your limits, bro," Caleb would encourage, a mischievous glint in his eye. I begrudgingly started, each icy blast a battle of willpower. But with time, what was once a dreaded experience became a refreshing challenge.

The changes in me were not just physical. My confidence soared, and I found myself engaging more with others, stepping out from behind the safety of my books. My clothes fit better, and my posture improved. Caleb’s influence was unmistakable. "Show off that progress, man! Your life is defined by discipline," he'd say, his encouragement a accompanied by a pec dance.

Our relationship, initially strained, evolved into a mutual respect. I realized that beneath Caleb's flashy exterior lay a deep commitment to self-improvement. His antics, which I had once found abrasive, were now moments of inspiration.

One evening, after a particularly intense workout session, Caleb opened up about his philosophy. "Being disciplined isn't just about the gains or the girls," he mused, a rare seriousness in his tone. "It's about loving the journey, the daily grind. It's about finding joy in discipline itself. That's the real reward."

His words struck a chord within me. Caleb, the embodiment of discipline, had unwittingly become a mentor, guiding me towards a path of self-discovery and growth. His relentless pursuit of excellence had become my own, a shared journey that transcended our initial differences. In that moment, my respect for Caleb deepened, transforming my once intolerable roommate into an unlikely source of inspiration.

[justanotherperson1]

Apparently Sam died between the third and fourth movies, and Optimus saw it/had to watch himself fail to protect him. When Op startles back to life in Cade's barn he says things along the line of "No, no!" and "Run, Sam!". And in the fifth it's hinted to that Sam is dead, the old dude being the last of the Witwickens. Etc.

Anyways, not me thinking of the angst possibilities of Bay OP looking at Jack from TFP and remembering Sam and how he failed to protect him, dying at the hands of his own kind just because he knew the bots.

Sam.

He was just another name added to the long list of beings who died for him.

That’s what Optimus kept trying to tell himself.

Yes, Sam was the first human he had met, and like most he encountered, his time was cut short by non other than himself. How was the boy any different than the thousands that had died in Chicago? The countless unseen bodies to have gone cold, much like the numberless faceplates he had watch draw still apon Cybertron?

Even with the sentiment echoing in his aching processor, he couldn’t help but think of the beaten and bruised adolescent, spattered with his own blood carrying the Allspark into chaos, into uncertainty with a courage that could not be shaken. The boy who had pressed the cube into Megatron’s chest saving his life. The boy who stood for his kind when others of his own turned on him, that same unshaken confidence glinting in his youthful eyes.

The boy who, too, lost his warmth in his servos. His body becoming slack like a baby bird who simply had nothing left to give.

Optimus couldn’t help but think of the boy as another, Jack, partly hidden behind the frame of his counterpart accepted the Prime’s Keycard to Delta Sigma.

Another young boy being sent into endless chaos with nothing but his legs to carry him and a sliver of determination to hold on to burning in his own youthful eyes.

His Delta Sigma was raided during the war, blasted to splinters.

Now Optimus simply prayed, for the sake of himself, his younger self, the boy would still have something to find. That things could be better here.

But by Primus, he hoped above all else he did not watch himself seal the fate of such a familiar face.

[koifly]

German crp headcanons

Nina:

Nina the Killer would listen to SXTN. She'd blast 'Von Party zu Party' in her pink, leopard print, maximalist room every day. She knows all of their songs by heart and introduces everyone who doesn't know them (very few) to SXTN.

Had a fat crush on the Kaulitz brothers (Tokio Hotel), Peter Shaw (Die ???), Julien Bam and Taddl (TJ_beastboy) when she was younger.

Watched Rebekah Wing's horror yt vids religiously. Tbh, she watched every German youtuber's horror vlogs.

Was a victim of the "Scheiss Grufti" and "Zieh dich mal vernünftig an" comments in her school.

Since she's Turkish in my AU, she had an accent when she spoke German, especially when she was younger. It's still there but not as noticeable.

Early and uncontrolled internet access kid.

CRO hater in public, secretly loved his songs.

Didn't go outside often when she was younger, she rather played at home or in her backyard.

Was that kid that went to primary school with a princess crown.

Wanted to go to the Longboard tour SO badly but wasn't allowed to.

Listens to Hobbylos. (Nett hier, aber haben Sie schon Hobbylos mit 5 Sternen bewertet?)

Toby:

Probably grew up in a small village on the countryside.

Was an outside kid, he hated being at home. Not only because of the abuse but also because he got bored too quickly.

Parents somehow convinced him to be an altar boy, he quit when he was 14 or something.

LOVED Die Ärzte and Pisse, his dad listened to Rammstein so he didn't listen to them as some form of protest. (I don't support the actions of Till Lindemann in any way btw)

Went everywhere with his bicycle until 13, then he just walked everywhere or took public transport.

Says 'Digga' in every sentence, doesn't even know how he picked it up but he did. (Digga is a German slang word, comparable to bro, dude etc...)

Toggo kid who actively hated on KiKa kids. Mainly because he once fell asleep while watching KiKa in the evening and woke up while Berndt das Brot was on. He got jumpscared basically. (Please google Berndt das Brot, that thing was every German kid's nightmare and biggest fear istg.)

Always got candy too when he went to the bakery. Loved Esspapier and Schlümpfe.

Absolutely despises AfD voters. (Which is good, don't vote right wing parties kids, be like Toby)

When the first Bibi und Tina movie came out, his sister forced him to go to the cinema with him.

Regularly falls into a bush of nettles. (Not that he cares or feels it)

Ate every god damn berry he found in the wild when he was a kid. An absolute miracle that he's still alive.

Has always been a Marvel boy.

Met Nat in primary school. They even lived close to one another. Thought Nat was weird at first but somehow ended up crushing really hard on her in 8th grade or something. Is still crushing.

Natalie:

Was a victim of the "Oui, oui baguette" comments at her school.

Was the weird girl at her school, no one really talked to her, was always drawing something and only wore black.

Absolutely loved Stutenkerle and St. Martins Brezeln.

Always had the prettiest lantern at St. Martin.

LOVED Bibi und Tina. Had everything from them, dvds, cds, posters, friendship bracelets, everything.

Had a big fat crush on Toby in 7th grade. (Nothing really changed about that lol)

Lived on a farm, had her own little pony and named her Sabrina as a reference to Bibi und Tina.

Lived in a small village on the countryside. (Same that Toby lived in obviously)

Ruhrpott dialect despite her French roots. I'm not gonna explain why, she just has it.

Had a crush on Beni from Woozlegoozle when she was a kid.

Even though her parents are french, they loved Schlager music. Nat has a love-hate relationship with it.

Was at EVERY Schützenfest in her village and those around it. Had no particular reason for it, she always went alone anyways. She just found it amusing to see people get drunk and do stupid shit.

Was a Die Ärzte girl.

[kadextra]

so on a whim I started reading omniscient reader’s viewpoint manhwa

..and got hooked on the story so hard that I easily blasted through all available eps in less than a week. istg they put dr*gs in this thing it’s so good???? 😭

[SPOILER WARNING! big ramble ahead. if you’ve never read it, leave this post. consider checking it out you won’t be able to put it down]

lets get this out of the way first.

RAHHHHHH KIM DOKJA….. KIM DOKJA I LOVE YOU

GUYSSSSS 🥺 LISTEN. HE’S SUCH A GOOD PROTAGONIST. MY TRAUMA BOY. MY DUDE WITH THE POWER TO INFODUMP PEOPLE TO DEATH. YOU SELF-SACRIFICING IDIOT. his cunning intelligence makes him super attractive what can I say, I LOVE smart mcs with ambiguous morality and self sacrificial nature

here’s a big ✨shut your mouth✨ to every character who’s said he’s ugly- get your eyes checked, get a job get away from him (I know it’s because of the fourth wall’s filter it’s not their fault I’m just being silly)

the fourth wall is such a cool power to have. the complexity of how it acts based on his perception of fiction vs reality as the reader …. that’s very interesting and well thought out!!! how it lowkey has a consciousness too and it’s so tied into his mental state makes me want to psychoanalyze this guy even more. probably one of the most unique powers I’ve seen created and explored in a story tbh

I think the entire system of how the world works is really well done in general. constellations watching the apocalyptic bloodbath via livestream and sending donos to their favorite little guys shouldn’t work as well as it does and cracks me up so much 😭 (uriel is the best). I enjoy learning about all the irl different fables, history & mythologies too. plus doing my own research is fun! I did a deep dive through the web to learn about dokkaebi folklore lol I’m having a good time

I also related hard to how dokja read TWSA throughout his life, the story was a companion for him. got choked up bc I reflected on how much my own favorite companion stories for years mean to me. there’s been situations I’ve thought “what would (character) do?” dokja saying stuff like “what would joonghyuk do?” felt like I got called out <3 I’d probably be the same as him if my favorite characters suddenly came to life

anyways yeah I caught up with the manhwa looked online and discovered it comes from an already completed novel with over 500 chapters and the manhwa is barely a third into adapting it though it’s been releasing every week for 4 years. and that it’ll take like 10 more years to finish. I then planted my face in my hands and screamed with despair

I’ll shrivel up waiting to see what happens……………heyyy woahhhh.. whats this light of salvation ? the novel file just completed download on my phone ? that’s crazyy wow I opened it ? im scrolling it right now ? omg I’m telling myself in the mirror “pace yourself, try to space your reading out do NOT read too fast” ?

jokes aside im excited, first I’ll take some time to read back through the earlier chapters for extra context of scenes! >:D after I finish doing that…. pls pray for my self-control to try stretching this for as long as possible. I’m pumped to see what happens next with this demon king part so maybe I’ll read along with the manhwa unless I get too impatient heh

to conclude- I had no idea the fandom of orv was so passionate. while closing my eyes to spoilers, I was looking at beautiful fanart and animatics (watched this one and ascended that’s one of my fav rin songs). I can tell how much you guys love the story, there’s always going to be people like me who get interested so keep it up :D if the fandom does end up reading this, ummm *knocks on the door* hi im new

I will likely talk about it more in the future!! tagging under “#kade reads orv” ! might draw fanart on my art blog too bc brainworms <3 happy reading everyone

[theomnicode]

Hello! What do you think about how the society in OPM accepts that King is the most powerful being in the world? While Saitama is hinted at what may become a danger to society if his strength were to become known? Considering that King has (accidentally and through his own fault) stolen Saitama's merits?

Sorry this one took a bit to answer, I had other business to attend to. This one is another long piece, but I dropped a tl;dr at the end lol.

Honestly though? I think it's perceptional bias.

Perception bias is a broad term used to describe different situations in which we perceive inaccuracies in our environment. It is a type of cognitive bias that occurs when we subconsciously form assumptions or draw conclusions based on our beliefs, expectations, or emotions.

There are several subtypes: Implicit bias: individuals hold attitudes towards people, or associate stereotypes with them, without being aware of this. Fundamental attribution error: individuals tend to blame their failings on circumstances around them, but consider that others are responsible for their shortcomings. Selective perception: expectations about people or situations affect perception.

King is revered as a strong hero and so people would accept and expect him to have strong abilities. Child Emperor pictures these abilities and describes them to King. (Cpt 152, Check) King is also tall, large and mysterious man who somehow exudes a strong aura of being strong willed, capable and a just person. But the public does not know him well enough to actually see through their bias: A physically weak and anxious man who just tries to live his life in peace, but who has heart of gold, wise beyond his years and incredible sense of justice.

Yet despite all this, I worry for King a lot, because the cognitive bias working against him is too strong, almost unnatural. It makes little sense about why this false image is so strong, considering he nor Saitama have THAT many actually proven feats on record or even publically observed. I mean, Saitama literally destroyed a meteor and got accused for it and killed Sea King and the public turned against him...and yet none of those actual, legitimate feats are being exaggerated to this degree like Charanko describes them as in Chapter 192: Level up.

Charanko's examples are so utterly ludicrous without a single shred of actual evidence that the utter shock being told they were lies of it was enough for him to at least start shaking off that cognitive bias and question his perception and seeking out the actual truth. The guy is completely overlooked as just being a weak nobody comic relief character archetype, but he is strong willed, like when he had the guts to attack Garou in direct confrontation.

But I mean, look at this thing, this is completely absurd. Where is the entirety of OPM people's critical thinking skills?

Who in their right mind would seriously believe rumours like solar system destroying level of bomb with a bonus black hole from some rando dude on the internet? Or King not having even been born yet, somehow being the second coming of christ itself?

Plus there is only one goddamn mythology piece in this entire manga that even closely fits the bill of a human(oid) character's birth being foreshadowed and that is OPM's God's mural in a place where literally nobody has seen it before.

Who the F would even be crazy enough to imagine up and spread such a rumour that King, of all people, is actually OPM God who legit nobody even knows exists? So absurd. :D

(Above image is from volume redraw)

It's such a malicious and cruel rumour too, capable of sowing distrust and discord in the entire Hero system when people stop believing in their heroes because they think the entire system is a lie. And they would blame King for it, thinking he's to blame for the lies because he broke their idea of an hero fantasy.

The only hero I can think who actually knows about OPM God is Blast, but he's not malicious. Zero motive whatsoever.

I heavily suspect Psykos for spreading it because this kind of rumour could only come up straight from the source itself. Because she's an alarmist (Cpt 175, Visitor) and OPM God has her in his backpocket to emotionally manipulate. Fubuki might uncover some more information to discover the truth, but I'd take it with grain of salt because Psykos appears to be under some kind of mental illness, possibly psychosis, as Fubuki has pointed out that she had never been a tough girl and something changed her. But I'm no detective and I'm not void of any bias, so here's a sherlock holmes quote:

"How often have I said to you that when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth? We know that he did not come through the door, the window, or the chimney. We also know that he could not have been concealed in the room, as there is no concealment possible. When, then, did he come?"

Honestly, the magic man in the sky is prolly doing it, we just don't know how because there's not enough evidence, only context clues.

-*-

Bang on the other hand, cannot shake off his bias even if his heart is in the right place. But he was just directly told face to face by King himself that he is weak and he still refuses to believe it because he stubborny keeps believing in his own biases, thinking he's always correct.

Old people do oftentimes think they're always correct don't they? Because they're oh so old and wise and experienced. He does the same thing with Garou and Garou won't accept it.

-*-

Anyways, I worry for King's flailing mental health for reasons because he's thinking about self-harm and he wants to unalive himself by monster hand because he thinks it's already Game over for him.

The cognitive bias around people's minds is actually and ironically, shielding him from the cascading effects of the mass public outcry since he's not ready to face it yet. He lacks willpower, that mental fortitude, to withstand that kind of attack on his psyche. He might do it if people suddenly just snapped out of that cognitive bias.

Some might even say... that he's the cognitive bias itself. King can bullshit so effectively because he's can literally project bullshit out of his every orifice if he needs to. If say, he needs to protect himself or other people. And as long as people keep their cognitive biases, it would help him sustain the image that he's strong and not be hated by everyone if they suddenly snapped out of their cognitive bias. So you could say that...the cognitive bias is helping him survive and protecting him.

A cognitive bias is a systematic pattern of deviation from norm or rationality in judgment. Individuals create their own "subjective reality" from their perception of the input. An individual's construction of reality, not the objective input, may dictate their behavior in the world. Thus, cognitive biases may sometimes lead to perceptual distortion, inaccurate judgment, illogical interpretation, and irrationality.

Look, they're instantly second guessing themselves. Seems to be working very effectively. And Atomic Samurai did some incredible mental gymnastics to convince himself that just by sitting there, King just casually cut the apple even when he saw nothing and nothing literally happened in front his very eyes. (Chapter 189, Blade test.)

At least he has Saitama at his back, because Saitama has a bullshit radar a mile wide and Saitama believes he can change to be stronger. He respects King's opinion to do what is right despite knowing he lacks real power to be that force of change himself. He does not appear at a glance to show implicit bias towards King. He originally saved the guy just because he needed saving and then did it again, despite not knowing a thing about King, aside from the assumption that he must be a strong hero, even if he was asking for information to form an opinion. And then tries to dig deeper into that and questions the logic of King running away and showing lack of bias with his objectivity. (Chapter 38, King)

So as long as Saitama believes in King, he probably won't come to any real harm. But Saitama also has to believe in his own ability to actually help King if the need arises and act upon it, because otherwise it'll just be 166 chapter redux in the absolute worst case scenario.

-*-

So, about perceptive biases towards Saitama, they come out in negative light by default unless proven wrong by him directly.

I'll let the following panel demonstrate. (Chapter 55.7, Sense, vol 20 Extra)

The judge became immediately biased without any reason and attacked his integrity and pretended to know all about him when he actually knows nothing, despite this being ONLY a hero suit contest, not a character judgement and ignoring Saitama's explanation to why he likes to wear what he wears.

The judge won't acknowledge what he saw with his plain eyes as he refuses to believe what happened, Genos is showing different kind of bias because he too, is biased in favour of Saitama and thinks Saitama should win a hero suit contest just because he's strong, despite objectively having a really bland and cheap outfit even HE didn't like. Like a cosplay contest gone wrong if the judge just picks their favourite without any objectivity to their actual suit or performance and what is the point of the judging in the first place. Other people, despite cheering him on...show their true facets with their snide negative comments with their leaps of logic, attempting to tear him down for his good deed and nobody criticises them.

Now for a different kind of perception bias. (Chapter 16, Passed the exam)

Chewing gum might on a first glance, seem very disrespectful when towards authority figures who want your full attention because it inherently implies that the person is too busy chewing gum rather than paying attention, thus creating bias.

However the act of chewing gum in a situation where one wants to study and retain information has been seen as beneficial by studies.

Turns out, chewing gum may have more effects than simply making your breath smell good, or giving you something to do when bored. In fact, some studies show chewing gum can actually increase feelings of relaxation, increase attention, lower stress levels, and improve memory.

Saitama has shown even at the early stages of his teenager years that he DOES actually possess the attention span to study...as long as the subject actually interests him and he has selective interests. Despite all the chatter around him, he's able to tune them out and focus on his study. Give him something really dry and boring that just won't seem to stick and his attention span will waver, because attention is a resource to be managed.

Things like studying psychology can have their humble beginnings often in the interest in what affects human health, because personality types who are keen about bettering others like knowing what makes people tick in order to help them.

So it can be assumed that Saitama, knowing he has a poor attention span in boring seminars but has studied the subject before, anticipated this and simply brought chewing gum to help him focus just a bit more. Unfortunately, Snek became hostile to him and Saitama completely lost his focus and his attention wavered. This is how negative perception bias affects Saitama in his everyday life.

Another example of this selective attention span is where he watches the television because he's also interested in bettering the world as a whole, again because he likes helping other people and it brings him satisfaction. He often watches tv as an adult as well, to the point of doomscrolling. He even has Mob Psycho shirt on, a nod to ONE's other series to show that he's very empathic at his core. (Chapter 8.5, 200 yen, Vol 1 extra)

However, it is also shown that Saitama is incredibly sensitive to baseless judgement, hostility, bias and outside influence and he will get defensive and angry when faced with such and when challenged. (Meteor and Sea king fiasco) People like this who also have high moral integrity like Saitama has shown time to time again, also care great deal about their reputation in other's eyes, because it shows to them if they are doing a good job or not in their moralistic actions. Like a peer review.

Not getting any good feedback and instead met with various levels of hostility just conditions them to not try at all because they think it's their fault that everyone is against them. So Saitama early on has been faced with conditioning and now for instance, he thinks he just can't learn anything new even if he made an honest attempt. He has become insecure and self-critical and will think of himself in a negative light. (Stagnation and growth, chapter 76.) He has effectively build cognitive biases about himself and his true identity.

Here is Saitama attempting to unravel the cognitive bias around himself because he made a self-discovery. King, in his infinite wisdom, gives Saitama some objective perspective when Saitama immediately wants his second opinion about his perspective surrounding this new discovery. King, bless his heart, attempts to genuinely help Saitama but he misses the point of the discussion when Saitama was trying to see if he could bounce his ideas around, such as throwing a video game analogy to King that Saitama knows he SHOULD understand well. Saitama is just very poor at expressing his words due to his upbringing and loneliness and detatchment from emotions, especially without properly parsing it out first. He often thinks a lot louder than he seems to talk, which is why he's often misunderstood.

That is, unless he apparently connects on a deep level like with Genos and then the two of em could talk about anything and everything that comes to mind for days or until they run out of breath lmao. (Maji Drama CD vol 1, Saitama makeover)

King's perception bias towards Saitama is because he just does not know him well enough and his perspective is a bit skewed because of media influence that bring him comfort for his own emotional loneliness...because Saitama is always hung up about something or another because he has so much issues it hurts. King just does not see it or is not willing to believe "Super strong Saitama" could possibly have any issues since Saitama hides them well.

Saitama has far too much free time to think and ruminate, but his own cognitive biases stop him from seeing his true self without all the negativity surrounding him. The negativity of things such as his upbringing as a lonely boy who's sensitive to hostility. (Chapter 15.5, Brushing up, vol 2 extras)

-*-

Perception bias also serves another more...sinister purpose for Saitama. Psychological conditioning. There is potential evidence for deprivation of basic needs, conditioning for violence for protection and subliminal messages for suggestion, among other things. I won't go into details because I'm afraid of also potentially spoiling stuff, so I'll keep the suspense. :D

Here's maslow hierarchy of needs pyramid that explains about our intrinsical needs as human beings to have wellness in both body and mind.

Being deprived of all these needs is akin to mental torture. But so is facing all of the underlying issues at once via hypnotherapy and cognitive behavioural therapy if the patient is sufficiently dysfunctional in a societal setting like Saitama happens to be. Especially if the therapies are performed...poorly.

CBT has shown to be the most effective intervention for people exposed to adverse childhood experiences in the form of abuse or neglect Criticism of CBT sometimes focuses on implementations (such as the UK which may result initially in low quality therapy being offered by poorly trained practitioners. However, evidence supports the effectiveness of CBT for anxiety and depression. Evidence suggests that the addition of hypnotherapy as an adjunct to CBT improves treatment efficacy for a variety of clinical issues. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) and its symptoms have been shown to improve due to implementation of hypnotherapy, in both long and short term. As research continues, hypnotherapy is being more openly considered as an effective intervention for those with PTSD.

In short, in order to heal mentally, Saitama may need to face mental torture because he has such strong willpower and such strong mental barriers shielding his vulnerabilities on a basic primal need. He can essentially dip himself on lava and ignore the shock reaction from the extreme heat (Chapter 112, Sacrifice) and does not even need to breathe in space and does not notice the extreme cold or pressure of space nor the sun's harmful rays, that's how strongly he shields himself from outside influence. (Saitama vs Garou fight, cpt 167-168) But there only needs to be a sufficient trigger.

ONE sent Saitama home to restore his energy levels in Chapter 197, What only I can do...because he's going to sorely need them for the upcoming confrontation.

Empty Void's ability to genjutsu people casually and cause parallel shifts in the reality and using these to abuse emotional dependencies is like a loaded Chekov's gun on Saitama's forehead. Because Saitama has been roleplaying to re-learn his emphatic skillset after he had suffered too much mental trauma and he's done that a lot with Genos just via interaction. I heavily suspect that Saitama's emotional regulation and empathy suffered when he became too strong and he was emotionally blunting himself.

So, if they so happened to use Genos against him and trigger his PTSD, there's no telling how Saitama will react.

Saitama more than likely has some mental illnesses like disorders and at the very minimum PTSD, not just depression, which can be used maliciously against him and the entire OPM world. There is one more thing about psychological conditioning, but I'm not gonna say it out loud here on this meta, I'm afraid to spoil it. :p *rubs hands gleefully*

There is also a high chance that if he's stressed enough and sleep deprivated enough, he could honestly go into psychosis if the entire world suddenly turned on him because he's sensitive to criticism and hostility.

Psychosis is a condition of the mind or psyche that results in difficulties determining what is real and what is not real. Symptoms may include delusions and hallucinations, among other features. Additional symptoms are incoherent speech and behavior that is inappropriate for a given situation. There may also be sleep problems, social withdrawal, lack of motivation, and difficulties carrying out daily activities. Psychosis can have serious adverse outcomes.

That's where he would truly become a danger to both himself and the entire Earth he's living on if he starts to have delusions, hallucinations and becomes out of touch with reality and also paranoid. So unless Saitama's mental health is adressed in a proper environment, he's a ticking time bomb till someone pulls the trigger on that PTSD and other issues he has. Empty Void can easily do exactly that by abusing his attachment to Genos in a cruel way, just like he tried to do with Flash and Sonic, starting from Chapter 200, Void.

Even seemingly normal, kind and well-adjusted people at the core can become very unpredictable when under high amount of duress and psychosis.

As underlined above, everyone always seems to default to the negative viewpoint of Saitama due to their perception biases and if Saitama's true strenght became more know...public would outright fear him simply because they cannot understand the scale of how powerful Saitama actually is, abnormally strong. Like they'd suddenly become prey to some unknown entity. Add in Saitama becoming more and more loose with his inhibitions from things like sleep depression and they'd have a huge mess in their hands.

Even Garou who fought against Saitama with everything he has, is completely shocked about how insane Saitama's abilities are, because they defy physic laws like it's nothing, so Garou goes "This is insane! What the hell IS this monster!?" when Saitama sneezed jupiter apart. (Awakening of the gods, chp 168)

Saitama has also shown dubious morality by attempting to punch and kill Garou to avenge Genos, but not really thinking or caring that the entire Earth would become collateral damage like Blast mentions as he portals and contains the explosion in Earth atmosphere. Chapter 166, Squared & Cpt 167, I.o) Saitama's mental state, when normally calm and seemingly well-adjusted, was thrown out of the window when he saw Genos died on him and has now become a PTSD trigger. He literally vented out all that anger in his fist in a massive clash of divine power, as told by the Blastice league.

So if perception bias surrounding Saitama was to turn sideways and he'd get dumped the pressure of the world against him, the consequences might become...bad. Saitama needs to be able to regulate his emotions far better in order to withstand mass scale attack from public opinion. Otherwise ONE is playing with fire with Saitama's mental health state, because he does NOT react well to criticism an such and will lash out like he did during the meteor incident, but far worse.

Thus, a danger to society.

-*-

Tl;dr: King has always been viewed in positive light so people perceive his powers as good thing and non-threat because they believe King is a great hero, whereas Saitama has always been surrounded by negative preconceptions about whatever he seems to be doing and public opinion about his hero status is not good, so Saitama busting out his massive, unknown power would instead cause uproar and mass scale panic that someone is even capable of such.

Thanks all for reading and thank you itsmaferart for this question. :)

[ryuichirou]

Replies

Happy Saturday; a couple of short replies today.

Anonymous asked:

I sound dumb but on kofi I noticed that some of your drawings were labeled Fellow and Mob and there was one on Bluesky for Epel and Mob. Who or what or when is Mob? Is this the dude from Scott Pilgrim?

You are not dumb, Anon! No worries.

“Mob” is basically the same as “just random faceless guy/girl”. Here is a definition from this site:

In Japanese, モブ (short for モブキャラクター) refers to a character who plays a minor role in anime/manga/games.

Dorm students from TWST (the ones that aren’t our main characters) are technically all Mob, like Scarabia student B, Heartslabyul student A, etc. This term is also frequently used in doujins when a character is being paired with some rando, i.e. some pervy old man or just some faceless student. In case with Fellow and Epel it was a pervy old man...

But now I can’t stop thinking about Mobile sleeping around lol

Anonymous asked:

ryu i just wanted to let you know that your aot art still lives rent free in my mind specially the ereri ones you were such a visionary omg !!!! but your new drawings are just as beautiful <3

Oh my god, Ereri!

Thank you so much for your kindness, Anon! Hearing that it such a blast from the past, I can’t believe it’s been 3 years already… I am very excited to apply everything I’ve learned over these years art-wise to more Ereri stuff in the future (whenever it’ll be). So it’s great to hear that there are people who still remember us and our content with these two <3

I am very happy you like my new stuff as well, it means a lot!

Anonymous asked:

Was at a con last weekend and you were like every person's at the twst meetup favorite artist I'm not even kidding

No way… 😭 This is incredibly sweet, thank you very much!

In all honesty though, it really is very surprising, but amazing nonetheless. I am very happy to hear that. It’s hard to even imagine that I exist... irl? In other people’s lives? Idk how to put it.

Thank you for sharing, and I hope you (and everyone else) enjoyed the con.

Anonymous asked:

I wish I had an Idia dakimakura. No question just wanted to share my woes. I need to squeeze the life out of him :(

Honestly, I think a lot of lives would have been improved with an Idia dakimakura… He is very squeezable :”(

Anonymous asked:

I've been having the most intense Lilia/Idia thoughts lately and I just wanted to share them if you're interested.

Cause Idia and Lilia are gaming buddies, yeah?

And I just can't stop thinking about how if they were playing a game with comms, there could be other people there or not but having other people there makes it more fun, and Lilia just messing with Idia so hard.

Just saying the dirtiest stuff and Idia's on the other side of the comms blowing a fuse from all the stuff Lilia's saying.

And if there was people there and they heard that, then Idia would have to deal with the questions later and he'd blow a fuse again just out of embarrassment.

Maybe that's a strange thought to have, but I just wanted to share it cause why not?

LOL poor random people who have to play with these two fuckers! On the other hand, it’s probably very entertaining to listen to them lol

It’s also funny that Crimson Muscle seems to have kind of strict and mature, yet unexpectedly playful vibe, so the image in Idia’s head is very specific. But once they learn each other’s identity… maybe Lilia would start acting like his gremlin self more. He really could make Idia blow a fuse if he wanted to…

No matter what happens, people around them are going to think they’re dating lol

[sug4r-sp1c3]

Hi!

Could you maybe do villanous x a reader who has rabbit ears please? Thanks!!

RULES ARE RULFES NO SPECIFIC CHARACTERS OR THINGS ITS BEING A HC UHHHH

ok lets begin since i'm sleepy ITA 1 AM WHAT THE FUCK

"but sugar-sp1c3 you said your limit was 4 character-" I KNOW OKAYI' JUST FORGOT WHEN DOING THIS

VILLANOUS WITH A S/O WITH RABBIT EARS HCS !!

Characters, Demencia/Dementia, Dr.Flug, 5.0.5(platonic?), Black hat, penumbra, Sun Blast, Miss heed(not in order lol)

Demencia / Dementia

she woudl make fun of then

but like

A LOT

"Hey bunny ears!"

i feel like she would bite them idk

i mean yes she mocks of you BUT THATS HER WAY TO SHOW LOVE TO YOU..at least i think!

she haves 2 sides

the left one where she mocks and jokes and bites of you ears

and the right side where she praises you and your eyes and- you are basically her new black hat

she would often play with them

or if you have both rabbit and human she would be like:

"SO YOU HAVE SUPER HEARING!!?! OMG THATS SO COOL"

Dr. Flug

his first honest reaction is that gif sorry i don't make rules

HE THINKS THEY ARE COOL AND PRETTY ASF

HE MELTS IF THEY EVEN MOVE LIKE

HE JUST STARES AT YOU IN AWWE UNTIL HE SNAPS BACK TO REALITY!

unless his with black hat bc in that case he avoids to look at your ears at all cost since the "jefecito" can notice and idk yeah

he would probably want to do some experiments

but only friendly ones!!

like testing if you can do other things

if you have extra sensitive ears

or somthn idk i have no ideas rn

he would like to caress them on his little free time

oh btw he would LOVE if you and 5.0.5 where like best buddies or you would be his second parent-like figure(i swear i am trying to make his non specified gender I SWEAR GUYS)

he just lvoes you and you ears so much

5.0.5

he's a fucking bear bruh 💀

ok so thsi will be platonic like buddies or a second parental figure, or smthn like that

he loves to "talk" about your ears or ask you questions.(if you don understand them he would force flug to translate lmao)

he is very careful when he is trying to touch them since y'know..big paws

but he still tries!!

i imagine if he maked cupcakes the icing would be a drawing of an airplane, of dementia, a chameleon or a black hat idk, for you YOUR RABBIT EARS AND A HEART BECAUSE I THINK THEY ARE CUTE!!!!

he would even "ask" you to use you as inspiration for any dessert, or drawing or smthn.

i bet if he haves a rabbit plushie he gives it to you and/or puts something on the ears(ribbons, little hats, etc) he would be like "bow bow!" [siblings!]

Black Hat

he probably threats to rip off your ears

and eat them

basically hurt you

DUDE HE IS LIKE THE ANTI CHRIST ON HIS UNIVERSE WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO TURN HIM INTO A ONCELER?

Penumbra

SHE

LOVES

YOUR

EARS

SHE OFTEN POSTS THINSG ON HER INSTAGRAM(with your consent ofc) LIKE "my sweetie's ears where a bit messy today! so me and sun blast fixed them just a lil bit.... loved the result! 🐇💜"

she would ask if you are sensitive to things like sound or something to try to not let a lot of hard things that can cause a hard sound when they fall or make sure Curie or Sunblast don't throw things

she oftenly tries to impulse you to not cover them! but if you like to have them covered, she would be okay with that too!

the same that flug

she would ask to make some little and non-offensive, experiments on your ears

if you don't want, its okay!

if you want, its okay too!

"look! i got you this! i bet it would make your ears fur brighter!..and curie's too"

Miss Heed

okay she would POST LIKE 10000 HISTORIES, POSTS, AND A LOT OF THINGS IN ALL HER SOCIAL MEDIA

LIKE SAYING "HAH MY s/O'S EARS ARE UNIQUE AND YOURS NOT"

but she would never say that out loud.

she would ask to records tiktoks or anything about them, like idk trends, popular songs or just quick vid like "watch me take care of my Sweetie S/o ears!"

if they are sensitive, during the event of when she had everybody under her control or smthn she would keep you away from them

yes she would be a bit sadistic and evil but she still cares abt you

..or she just does the same thing that she did with them..

when she's at..THAT place..she draws in a corner a lot of little ears, like if she misses you and misses your ears..

if you visit, she would beg to touch them again , to feel them..she would be crazy for it..

Sunblast

Red BEFORE the "The Dreadful Dawn".

Orange AFTER "The Dreadful Dawn" and BEFORE the events of the comic and The "Heedeous Heart"

Yellow AFTER "The Dreadful Dawn" and the events of "The Heedeous Heart" and the little comic

even if you where his S/O he would mock of you and of them..

listen he knows you are his S/O but he just..feels like its the right thing or it doesn't matters

he doesn't even minds as i can think

he is just like "oh i am just joking! geez.."

Now under Penumbra's uhm..how do i say it?..NOW WITH PENUMBRA LMAO

he realized that he may have been a bit too much harsh with you..

he persuades Penumbra to localize you or visit you to apologize

if things go well..you both could try again!

and he is better.

He even tries to make you be friends with Penumbra! like he did with her

He still makes jokes but he thinks about them for a long time like

"no..that would hurt their feelings..NO ITS BAD..well- no wait..no..oh...this one may be good.."

he fears of you getting like the other ones..he tries to protect you at all cost

if you do get under Miss heed's..thing

he would be like mad but that multiplicate it for 10 and then for 100

the only thing that keeps him away from hurting heed and all her followers its his current little size and Curie

when you aren't under heeds control he makes sure you and your ears are okay..

he asks everyday if you are 100% SURE IF YOU ARE OKAY

after the Miss heed thing he is worried more than he should be but like c'mon

leave the little guy alone :(

he lost 2 of his most special people in his life just because a pink bitch

[viperfizz]

Some xaragaard headcannons i’ve written down over the course of like a few months…

- Ellegaard develops a habit of gently tracing her fingers along Xara’s facial/body scars whenever she’s anxious, bored, etc. Xara loves it and finds it relaxing

- I draw Ellie with moles all over her body so what about Xara trying (and succeeding) to kiss all of them

- Xara draws for Ellie sometimes, whether it’s a portrait or her favorite flower or something. Ellie keeps every single drawing in a little journal she can look through

- Xara doesn’t remember when her spawn day is, so Ellie makes one up for her on the spot

- “let’s kiss without touching and see who gives in first” Xara loses

- Xara’s had a few flings back in the institute that didn’t really impact her that much, but everything feels so different with Ellie in a good way that she gets very confused and asks Jesse wtf is going on and they’re just like “dude you’re so in love wtf”

- Ellegaard has only let 2 people ever call her Ellie; Magnus and Xara, and she wants to keep it that way until the end of time. (she only let Magnus slide bc his annoying ass wouldn’t care anyway)

- Ellie works on her redstone contraptions until the stupid o’clock hours and passes out halfway through. Xara takes her to bed and wipes off any redstone dust on her gloves/hands, and also any makeup she might have had on for the day

- Xara explaining to Ellie how she used to be an admin thinking she’ll be intimidated but Ellie is genuinely interested and lowkey falls in love with Xara more

- when Xara finds out Ellie’s favorite food is bread she learns how to make it for her :))

- Olivia is pretty much Xara and Ellie’s non-bio kid. Ellie first kinda took Olivia under her wing after the witherstorm arc and once Xara got to know Olivia better they just sort of shared custody of her from then on

- ^^^ the whole “idk go ask your mother” thing but it’s Olivia asking Xara and Ellie back and forth about something i love my parents :)

- these two are so old xara probably watches stupid videos on facebook or youtube full blast in the living room and ellie’s on the other side of the couch peacefully reading like :/

- they take care of each other during their low points. when ellie’s been working on a project all day and is too tired/sore, xara will run her a warm bath and put her clothes in the dryer so they’re nice and toasty. when xara has an episode of some kind whether it be depressive, anxious, or one of her injuries flaring up, ellie will sometimes lay on the couch/bed with her if she doesn’t wanna be alone and she’ll put on a movie and bring xara something to eat.

i love old women