#lax jock

[alphafootballjock67]

[vhs2020]

Almost time for Lacrosse season, lace em up boys

[dumblockedjock]

Lacrosse Jocks

[athleticsupporter]

 hiding under them white shorts, framed by his jock leg straps, is a hairy rosebud just ready to opened up.

[lilacstarryskies]

Round 2 Steddie Bingo Promptfill

@steddiebingo

Rated: T

Prompt: Home

WC: 3168

Ao3 link: here!!!

Tags: Getting Together, Steve Harrington Has Bad Parents, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, Angst

———————

“Fine!”

Steve strutted off, busted face and all, rushing up the garishly pristine stairs of his—well his parent’s home—ready to get the fuck out of here.

It was due time anyway. He was fed up with not just all the nagging, but the general bad demeanour, the demeaning words, the not-even-being-here but making him anxious all the same. And even when his parents were home, the few minutes they used up of their so-called precious time on him were all wasted on awful criticisms, never ever any words that resembled even a sliver of love and affection.

He slammed open the door to his room, the room that was no longer his as of this moment. Even before this, the room was never truly his. It was a facsimile of a personality slathered onto the walls, the shelves and the god awful patterned curtains.

Everything in there wasn’t Steve and it never was, not even representing Steve back in the days where he was a little standoffish asshole to the masses in Hawkins High.

It was more akin to a furniture store’s showrooms, everything too polished and basic, seeming like an average teenage boy's room but with just a hint of something missing.

It was manufactured—fake, to put it simply.

Just like he was.

Though he’d changed, and he heavily respected his own efforts trying to get away from the expectation of his parents, of all the people around him.

Steve mainly respected Nancy, for giving him the big push to not only recognise the assholery beside him, but to take a stand and leave despite the stomach-turning fear born in his childhood years that leaving his friends and no longer following the status quo would make him an outcast.

Besides, he liked outcasts anyway.

The best people he knew were all outcasts who’d be sneered at by the likes of Tommy and Carol, and his parents.

He sometimes missed Tommy and Carol, the sensation felt as if he was missing a vital part of himself, but he recognised that as the years went on, all three of them became twisted individuals filled with underlying hate, no longer the innocent kids they were back in elementary school.

And so he said goodbye to them both, in a fashion very similar to this very

moment, with a sneer plastered on his face and a bruising eye right above it.

Steve’s suitcase was grabbed from right under his bed, half-filled already, what with him having a feeling in the back of his head that something like this would happen sooner or later, and it had.

He still had some stuff to pack up before he was ready to leave his parent’s and despite detesting this place and his parents way of treating him, his stomach curled up with an emotion he could discern to be regret, love, and a form of wanting—wanting his parents attention, wanting them to actually care for their son like all the parents did on the television shows he’d watch as kid, all alone, while his parents were travelling.

He opened up the drawers beside his desk, shoving in all the polos and jeans stuffed in there, messily throwing them in, not caring to keep anything clean like he used to.

His parents were no longer keeping up the pretence of caring for him, so why would he follow their expectations to keep everything prim and proper?

Steve could hear his father, the asshole, shouting downstairs, likely fighting with his mother, who, for all her faults did care for Steve partly and was seen as too ‘lax on the boy’ by good ol’ Richard Harrington II.

He promptly sped up.

The clothes were all in, even his old school varsity jackets were thrown atop everything, but Steve felt like he should have something more.

Was this really all he had?

There was nothing personal that screamed Steve Harrington.

Everything only looked like a typical jock’s room and his closet looked like the average Sears’ catalogue, nothing was solely him.

There were no personalised pictures framed, no loving family or friends behind the glass panes of a picture frame, no personal gifts spread out on his desk, absolutely nothing to note.

Actually, now that he looked, Steve found a few things to note.

Beside his desk lamp was a walkie-talkie, courtesy of Dustin and the rest of the nerds, after they made a whole big deal, instating him into their little gang, making him officially a member of the ‘Upside-Down Crew’ even though he technically was a part of that the year before.

He took that into his hands, smiling at the memory, before adding it to the growing pile of items in his old school backpack, not zipping it up yet.

Steve wasn’t only preparing for this inevitable day of getting kicked out by his parents with just a half-filled suitcase, but monetarily as well.

For every shift of work he’d taken since he was 16 with his small summer lifeguard gig upon being told to ‘be a man’ and get a job by his father, he, even with his little finance and general math skill, knew he had to keep some savings in case of an any emergencies and just to prepare for what life could throw at him.

For every eight-hour shift, he squirrelled away one hour's worth of earnings, knowing that with the privilege of his parents’ money, he could spend his teen years living comfortably off their money, along with seven hours' worth of dollars, even affording to splurge out on some things like the newest skin mags and buying Farrah Fawcett in bulk from his mother’s bi-monthly delivered catalogues.

He had quite a lot of cash stored up in envelopes at the bottom of his underwear drawer, with lots of it also stored in a secret debit card under his name, altogether having more than enough savings to live alone and find his footing as he left this godforsaken house.

Steve's suitcase was fully ready to go, and so was he.

He chucked a jacket on his back, backpack on afterwards, and was ready to storm out, keychain in hand.

Deciding not to face the shouting match going on downstairs that would inevitably turn to angrily drinking, he decided to go out through the back door, right by the pool that had caused his life to veer well off course, for the better.

He wheeled his suitcase right over, glad for the shouting for once, since it’d cover any creaking from the stairs and the loud thumps of the suitcase as he brought it down.

Steve quickly evaded the sight of his parents, getting to the backdoor quite quickly, but not before he took a small gander at his parents in the living room, arguing right in front of an obnoxious mantlepiece, shrouded with many picture frames above it, none of them with the family inside.

He looked at them for what felt like a long moment, but was truthfully quite short, taking in their faces, knowing that this would likely be the last time that he’d ever see his parents again.

He said goodbye to Victoria and Richard Harrington in his head, his heart deep down still wanting to reach out and have their affection. It was pitiful.

Steve knew better than to entertain their negligence and lack of love, so he powered through these emotions, turning his gaze away and was now out the back door.

Quickly trudging the suitcase over, and he was now suddenly at the edge of the premises, just a metre away from his car—thankfully switched to being under his ownership as a gift for his eighteenth birthday.

He opened up the boot, shoving everything inside in a hurried manner. Once that was over, he threw himself into the beemer, mind focused on where the fuck he would go.

Robin wasn’t an option.

In any other moment, she would be, but the one time he needed her, she was over in Bloomington, Indiana, checking over their campus in case she ended up picking them as her go-to college, what with their great language courses.

Steve had been to her house before, and her parents were so sweet to him. They were quite odd and loved the idea of Robin breaking societal expectations and rules.

Sneaking Steve into the house was something that made them happy, wanting Robin to be such a rule-breaker, though he would feel very odd intruding on them, especially without Robin present to cool the awkward feelings that would be sure to arise with a situation like this.

Steve drove off, revving up his engine in a showcase of his own rule-breaking, finding it hilarious how he could faintly hear his father shout a few expletives as he ran out to attempt to catch up to Steve.

He drove off further, getting out of Loch Nora, and tried to rack his mind over where to stop.

Steve loved the kids and everyone else he’d met due to the Upside Down situation, but it just felt a tad too personal to infringe on their space with his issues.

While he joked about his parents a few times, only Robin knew the full extent of their neglect and awfulness, so he’d only feel right with her helping him, which wasn’t exactly a possibility.

He found himself absent-mindedly driving, cassette tape playing a few tunes on low volume, using it as background noise as he zoned out, too stuck in his head to listen to the godly voice of Bruce Springsteen singing The River.

Suddenly, he found himself recognising the land he was entering.

His mind had instinctively brought him over to Skull Rock, the place where he was far too used to going in his moments of anger—or sadness, when it came to his parents, or even Nancy after she broke up with him.

Before it was used for casual hookups and became a teenage deviance hotspot, it was just for him.

For Steve to sit alone and ponder, to find a space to relax away from everything.

Away from the suffocating house that never truly was his home, away from the thoughts plaguing his mind, and away from all the heartbreak haunting him, over losing Nancy, having nobody who knew him like Tommy and Carol once did, and his parents not loving him.

He knew that he’d have to find an actual place to stay, some little hotel before he’d have to start renting out his own place, but for now, this was good, it was more homey than the Harrington home of solitude and bad attitude had ever been.

Steve didn’t feel like leaving the comfort of his car, despite how much he loved Skull Rock, because it would make this real.

He expected it, but now that he was kicked out, his mind could barely take it.

His mind was going into overdrive while also zoning out, hardly able to process his father’s actions, his hand to Steve’s face and harsh words.

And truthfully, Steve didn’t want to process their words right now.

He just wanted to listen to the solemn voice of Bruce Springsteen, who was coincidentally singing Independence Day of all things, a song which was strangely fitting to the circumstances that led Steve to be sitting alone in his car with packed bags.

It was about a son who was leaving his father’s home and felt far too relatable for Steve right now, bringing tears up to hold in the waterline of his eyes.

Steve just let himself weep, focusing on nothing but the heart-wrenching vocals of Springsteen, crying everything out in a freeing manner.

It felt like he was doing that for hours, listening to nothing but Springsteen’s voice on repeat, passing through the songs on his cassette tape over and over.

A knock interrupted that.

It took Steve away from the vocals, bringing his surroundings to the forefront of his mind.

“Hey, hey—Steve?”

Steve looked out the window and saw Eddie, of all people. He did not expect that, though he didn’t really expect to see anyone he knew tonight in the middle of the night.

He promptly rolled down the window. “Eddie, hey,” Steve said, praying that the tear streaks on his face weren’t visible in the moonlight. “How’s it going?”

“Nothing too bad, just smoking and didn’t want to hotbox with Wayne sleeping—wait, is something wrong?” Eddie replied, cutting himself off, likely noticing Steve’s upset face that he was unable to hide.

Steve barked out a cracked laugh, almost croaking with how hysterical he sounded, “Uh—uhm, yeah. Something is wrong—or well, maybe you could call it right, to be honest.”

“Steve?” Eddie said worryingly.

“It’s—it’s my parents, man,” Steve uttered out, “They kicked me out, man.”

“Fuck,” Eddie hissed out, clearly sympathetic.

“Nah, it’s not as bad as you’re thinking,” Steve had to reassure Eddie, he didn’t want him feeling too sympathetic for him; it was pathetic on Steve’s end. “I’ve been expecting this to happen since I left school, walking on eggshells and saving money for the time it’d happen, and, well, it seems that it’s today.”

“It’s fucked up anyway, Steve,” Eddie said, “Your parents are assholes, man, and trust me, I know asshole parents.”

“It’s not that horrid,” Steve countered, “It was always gonna happen and they’d never connected with me so I don’t feel like I’m missing out on anything, except for their cash, I suppose. But, now that it did happen, I do feel a little affected, I’ll admit.”

“Fuck them, you’re literally a monster hunter who saved the whole world from becoming some disastrous goo demonic dimension and they’re kicking you out? Fucking bastards, you’re so much greater than whatever bullshit they want from you.”

“I think even if my dad knew that, he’d still complain about how I wasn’t accepted to his Alma Mater,” Steve joked, smiling at Eddie’s attempt at uplifting him.

Eddie was looking at him with a focused stare, beginning to grin right back at Steve, “Yeah, well, your dad is some elite-level asshole who doesn’t understand the epic highs and lows of monster-battling, so fuck what he thinks.”

“Yeah, fuck what he thinks,” Steve repeated Eddie’s words, smirking as he did so, imagining the look on his father’s face if he ever was to hear this uttered from Steve’s mouth.

Eddie laughed, “Now you got it!”

“Yeah?” he glanced into Eddie’s eyes.

“Fuck him, seriously!” Eddie reiterated, eyes lighting up in the moonlight.

Steve chuckled, finding Eddie so sweet. While he was never the sort of person he’d interact with in high school, Steve was glad that he got to know him, even if it was due to another round of monstrous shenanigans occurring.

He was such a good guy, nothing like Steve assumed he’d be.

Someone Steve never expected would worm his way into his heart.

Someone who made Steve’s heart speed up, his face reddening, and his hands clammy in a way never felt by him since he romanced Nancy back in '83.

“Shit—wait!” Eddie blurted out, his beautiful brown eyes wide on display.

“Huh?”

“Where are you gonna stay then? No more Harrington mansion for you,” Eddie replied, sounding quite worried on behalf of Steve.

“My first thought was Robin’s, but she’s out of town right now, so I was thinking I should get a hotel or something.”

“No, Steve, those are pricey as fuck, you better room up with someone and save your money,” Eddie replied, “I had a place in the works to go ahead and rent, but Jeff caved into his parent’s and cancelled, decided to save and go college out of state, so I’m stuck with Wayne in the trailer—if I had space, I swear I’d offer it to you in an instant.”

“Eddie.” Steve was blunt, having a moment of realisation.

“Yeah?”

“You have money saved, I have money saved,” he said, watching the moment of realisation on Eddie’s face. “You want to move out of your uncle’s place, and I’m now out of my parents’ place, so why don’t we come together and get that together?”

Eddie’s eyes were drilling into Steve’s own, full of incredulity, “Seriously?” You wanna move somewhere with me?”

“Sure, why not?” Steve replied, “Better to live with you than crawl back to my parents and stay in that lonely home.”

“That’s not a home, a home is with the people you love,” Eddie remarked, “And I know this is a random decision, but I genuinely think it’d be fun—and crazy as hell—to move in with you.” He laughed under his breath, “Christ, if my younger self could hear this now, me moving in with ‘The Hair’ Harrington would blow his mind.”

“Well then, let’s make a home together,” Steve said. “I don’t want to stay with people I don’t love and who don’t love me—I’d rather be with you, someone I do love.”

He didn’t know why he said that. It was true, but it wasn’t right to blurt it out like this.

It was impulsive, an awful thing to say right after asking to rent together, and Steve could only pray that he didn’t fuck this plan up right after it’s conception.

“Y—you love me?” Eddie’s voice cracked out. “Steve, is this some joke, or am I right in getting my hopes up high?”

“I—fuck,” Steve responded, stumbling over his words right after he opened his cardoor to confess face-to-face with nothing obstructing them from each other. “I didn’t exactly mean to say that right now, but it is true. I really do like you.”

It seemed Eddie was gearing up to respond, “No fucking way, my younger self’s mind really would be blown the fuck up!” Eddie kneeled below Steve’s open car door, almost eye-level with Steve in the car seat. He placed one hand on Steve’s knee, the other moving in, right as his whole body moved further, reaching into the car.

He grabbed Steve with his free hand, right on his throat, lunging straight in for a kiss.

It was ferocious, full of energy, powerful and needy.

Steve thought it was perfect.

He got into it, instinctively joining in with Eddie, entwining their tongues together with a strong fervour.

Suddenly, their lips broke apart. Eddie was now a few inches away from him.

“How’s that for an answer?” Eddie quipped out, lips reddened up and upturned, clearly pleased at what had just happened.

“So, I’m guessing that’s a yes,” Steve replied, having a smile of his own, along with red lips perfectly matching Eddie’s.

“Goddamn, it is a yes,” Eddie blurted out, “I’d love to move in with you—to make our own home, away from all shitheads of town, just to have our free space and I’d just love to be with you.”

“That’s perfect.”

“It is?”

“Because I’d love to be with you as well.”

[urhoneycombwitch]

#17 from that prompt list about seeing the marks left on their partner and getting turned on has got me all kinds of 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 It feels roommate-eddie coded 👀 especially if they have their no-marks rule, but he just kinda loses control one night.

Then we torture him, walking around showing it off, telling him he can’t touch until he learns some self-control…okay, I’m gonna see myself out…

(most assuredly not @rebelfell sending two asks in a row)

foreword: Sarah I’m being so fr how are you literally in my brain… I had a blurb on this very topic set on the back burner bc I couldn’t find a place for it so here it is spruced up!!! (prompt 17 from this list)

cw: Reader has breasts, visible marks, no skin tone/color mentioned, a wee bit of choking kink, not full smut but mdni as always. oh yeah and biting 😈

___

You can feel the weight of Eddie’s eyes on your form, even as you pretend to be oblivious, leaning into the reflection of the standing mirror in the corner of his bedroom.

A few swipes of your pointer finger and your lipgloss is perfect; with a smack of your lips, you straighten up again, tugging the hem of your tee down to meet the band of your jeans. “Almost ready?”

The friendly smile you turn to give Eddie is met with a glower, his dark brows slanted, a death-grip on both knees where he sits simmering on his bed.

“Did you come in here solely to torture me, or do you have other plans up your vixen sleeves?”

Briefly, your eyes flick to the ceiling as you turn back to your reflection, fussing with your hair to keep your hands busy. “Only plan I got is attending our beloved friend’s barbecue. Which we should’ve left for, like, five minutes ago.”

Eddie huffs. In response, you sigh, landing just-left of condescending. “Not my fault you want to fuck me regardless of what I’m wearing. It’s jeans and a t-shirt, Eddie, I’m basically fit for a nunnery-”

There’s a whoosh of spiced air that wafts over first, chills cascading down your spine made worse as Eddie moves in. His left hand lands on your hip, rooting you to the carpet, while the other tracks up, skirting between the valley of your clothed breasts, your collarbone, your neck…

He takes your chin between thumb and forefinger, silver rings biting cold against your skin as your neck goes lax, baring a long, tantalizing stretch of it as Eddie tilts your face up and to the side.

His lips press to the sweet spot behind your ear, then follows the slope of your neck down, stopping at your shirt’s collar that hides the rest of your skin. From your hip, his hand lifts to pull the fabric aside, revealing a scattered canvas of suck marks and teeth imprints that grace the top of your shoulder.

“You really gonna show up with these? Make all our friends wonder who’s been marking you up?”

Eddie’s voice is low, but you’d be a fool to mistake it for softness.

Another shiver licks along the length of your body, and this time Eddie feels it; he presses in closer, hand sliding from your chin to hold just under your jaw as he meets your fluttering eyes in the mirror.

“What’re you gonna say, hm? If Robin asks where they came from? If Steve makes a jock-y comment? If you get teased?”

It’s not like you haven’t been in this situation before- attending events with mutual friends, having to act like your roommate hasn’t been the one checking all your boxes, making up excuses for being late or looking like someone had been using your body as their personal chew toy.

You’ve always made excuses- pretty seamless ones, if anyone’s counting. You don’t even try to squirm away when you respond, swallowing around the light pressure at your throat- “I’ll tell them what I always do. Blind date hookup, one night stand, my dentist’s cousin’s friend that I’ll never see again-”

Eddie bites into the soft flesh of your upper shoulder, hard, free arm wrapping around your midsection like a seatbelt while his other elbow digs into your chest, hand still wrapped around the column of your throat.

The air leaves your lungs in a rush, white-hot adrenaline surging with the sting of the bite, body stiffening against the restraints of Eddie’s arms as you grit out, “Asshole!”

It sounds too whiny and pleasure-soaked to cause any real alarm, Eddie grinning into the curve of your skin (bastard) before tsking, kissing over the thumping mark in partial apology. “Mm. I think you like it. I think you get off on parading our little secret around the poor folks who don’t know any better-”

“As if you don’t.” Eddie may be the one doing most of the biting but you’ve got the bark to match, glaring furiously at the reflection of his maddeningly-cool black-caramel gaze, even as the pressure on your windpipe increases with a minute flex of his palm.

“Yeah. Y’got me there, princess.” His eyes flit across your exposed skin, like he’s trying to memorize all the shades and colors of you combined with the wreckage of his handiwork. “Maybe you should cover up some more. So it’s just you ‘n me who knows what’s under here.”

The cotton collar snaps back into place, covering almost all the evidence (save for the tail end of a day-old scraped hickey). Eddie releases your jaw and takes a step back, the warmth leaving your body all at once, frozen where you stand until sense returns.

You clear your throat before speaking, irritation prickling as you set to fixing your hair again from where Eddie’s interruption had stalled. “Whatever. Fine. But I’m only changing because it’s gonna be cold later, and a long sleeve will be better- not because you told me to.”

“Fine.” Eddie adopts a neutral tone as he settles back onto the mattress with a bounce, tugging absently at the inseam of his dark jeans to relieve some of the mounting tightness. “Have it your way.”

“I will,” you snap back, turning from the mirror on a socked heel, pointing an accusatory finger at the boy on the bed. “And you better have your boots on by the time I’m changed.”

With that, you flounce from Eddie’s room in search of a more conservative neckline, while Eddie pouts and pretends to have the will to disobey you for all of five seconds.

And then he’s up, trudging to the bureau reluctantly to source a pair of socks while scheming for the perfect excuse to take you both on the extra-long route to the barbecue.

[societyoftheblindeye]

I feel like the way fidds and Stan are presented is so interesting like the masculinity they both give feels soooo very intentional and very modeled off of such specific ideals outside of their upbringings. They both come from areas that one would assume to be kind of hypermasculine in very specific ways like for instance a hog farm in rural Tennessee and very clean pressed neighborhood near the Jersey shore but they both kind of find themselves gravitating towards a more lax and artistic kind of vibe, specifically disco. And they still incorporate textures and patterns and staple pieces from the men of their upbringing into it while also branching out towards more flamboyant personas. Like, this is smth I wrote for a fiddlestan diddy a while back:

Stan was masculine in a way that Fiddleford wasn't used to. He was so used to masculinity being used as a shield. Something to hide behind; something rigid and and unchanging. A strict expectation that was the same from man to man, leaving little room for Fiddleford's silk shirts and flared jeans and shaggy hair. But Stanley's masculinity, in his tank top with his mullet and his curiosity, came off as more inviting. More fluid. It felt like a tide that kept flicking up around Fiddleford's ankles, and the looseness made his knees feel weak. Fiddleford licked his lips at the realization of how well they complimented each other.

Like they both have smth abt them that is so obviously “out of place” to a lot of potential random onlookers but is integral to how they feel abt themselves bc this is how they’re choosing to present themselves to the world ESPECIALLY Stan bc he lives so much of his life as a character rather than just as himself bc that’s the only way he feels he can survive bc being himself has hurt him so much in his life. But even when Fiddleford DOES achieve what the normal expectations for a man would be - a wife and a child and a home and a chance to own his own business - he still throws it all away for the chance to be close to ford. Who I think at this point is safe to call a canonically queer character. So there is smth in him that is very willing to forego all the traditional masculinity he’s managed to maintain for the chance to be close to someone who might understand why he feels TRAPPED by that traditional masculinity

“Oh but it was the 70’s, disco was popular, it was fine to dress like that” just… as someone who also grew up in Appalachia with family who were in their 20’s and 30’s in the 1970’s who still would have ridiculed or even threatened anyone who dressed like this… not always. Just because styles are popular in music or television doesn’t mean that they would be acceptable to someone’s upbringing or their peers, and I just know from growing up in the same kind of environment as Fiddleford that it would be likely and realistic that he rly was only able to dress like this BECAUSE of the distance he had put between himself and his family. And the reason I brought up disco specifically being a big source of inspiration for both of their fashion senses, in relation to them both having a kind of queer sense of masculinity, was bc disco was heavily influenced by ppl who were facing social persecution at the time (feminists and gay men and black ppl) and the genre was in itself a sense of community and social liberation. And even when it was at the height of its popularity disco was attacked and forced out of fashion by racist, misogynistic, and homophobic rock n roll fans in what ultimately became a riot led by a popular macho manliness preaching shock jock named Steve Dahl who started the “disco sucks” movement. So like… disco DID have its time in the spotlight, but it WAS still a source of sexual freedom in a time when that was very much not okay. There was a huge evangelical revival going on the 70’s that specifically attacked the small bit of sexual freedom that society experienced in the 60’s, and it was very much a time when ppl were saying that sexual freedom would turn ppl into actual murderers. So even tho disco was commercially successful, it still wasn’t ideal to be associated with it in a lot of places

But also i don’t think EITHER of them are Fem. I do think they’re both masc bc like… yeah. Like I said, even tho Fiddleford’s style is very disco heavy, he IS bringing in those textures and patterns and staples from his upbringing. And the way he was brought up, he would have most likely seen cowboys as the ideal masculine archetype. And while disco was a heated topic in the 70’s, the same silhouettes were still kind of floating around the country scene. Jeans were flared, just not full on bell bottoms. There were wide collared shirts, but not as deep a cut on the neck. And paisley was a pattern that kind of bridges the two groups. So he’s rly marrying the freedom from disco with the flair of 70’s country, which IS kind of a masculine approach to take when flirting with disco fashion. I also think a lot of ppl conflate body type with gender expression (waify, skinny = feminine/fat, broad = masculine) so they see a thinner guy who’s kind of faggy and go “oh he must be Fem” while disregarding EVERYTHING else abt him.

Like what was the point of us getting this picture if you’re just gonna ignore everything but ford’s stupid shorts?

No parents, no wife, no small town church culture. It’s rly him at his most free and his mustache isn’t even the push broom style of mustache that was commonly associated with cowboys in the early 1970’s. This style of mustache was more associated with bikers at the time, and American biker culture has its roots in the post-war gay community. It’s the same origin as the leather community (as in leather daddy) which is why they share so many stylistic staples. So like… that’s yet another display of affinity towards a more masculine style

I don’t know… I just think they’re both so fascinating & I think considering a character’s wardrobe and styling is rly important to understanding them better

[autisticrosewilson]

Obsessed loser Grant getting purposely paired with Jason for a group project. Idk how he would do it but he would.

Also, Dick finding out and trying to say something to Jason about Grant being a FREAK and Jason is just like “Grant? The cute guy who spoken like 3 words to me? What are you talking about Dick?”

Oh my god yeah!!

Lmao poor Dick he's shaking Jason by the shoulders, frothing at the mouth, "Jay, Jason, Little Wing, please. You don't know what he's capable of. You don't know what he's DONE." He's haunted by memories of itch powder in his jock strap and the time the water cooler was spiked with laxatives. No one could prove it was Grant, but Dick KNOWS.

and Jason just laughs him off because Grant is harmless, he barely even speaks! Honestly he's nothing but sweet to Jason, pulling out his chair for him in their shared history class and saving Jason a spot at the front of the line so he always gets first pick for lunch. Jason has a casual crush, but he doesn't seriously entertain it. He doesn't really listen to Dick either, all of his complaints go in one ear and out the other as he texts Grant to decide where to meet up.

Grant is more talkative over text, he learns. More confident and with a wicked sense of humor Jason hadn't anticipated. Grant always takes a while to type out responses, but Jason figures he's just shy, maybe he's got anxiety or something. Jason tries to be extra patient and if the homemade treats Grant brings when his mom makes too much is an indication, Jason assumes it's appreciated.

Grant is genuinely moments from passing out every second they spend together, he's never been this close to Jason for this long!! He smells so good and he has such a nice voice and he's so smart. Grant makes sure to go above and beyond on his share of the work, maybe the most effort he's put into school ever, because he knows Jason often gets saddled with all the work on group projects and Grant refuses to be another one of those leeches. A glimpse at his grades prompts Jason to offer to study with him. JASON!! OFFERED!! TO SPEND TIME WITH HIM!! Grant didn't even have to force it!!! His delusional ass is convinced this is a sign Jason wants him but Jason genuinely just feels bad lmao.

Unfortunately this causes a problem, his parents notice his grades going up too. And they're thrilled initially, but he eventually has to spill he's kind of being tutored by a friend to dodge cheating allegations. Obviously Addie wants to invite the nice boy over for family dinner to thank him. Grant is sweating bullets, terrified that the carefully constructed web of lies and persona he's built for Jason is about to be shattered, the mess that is his family is going to drive Jason away before their relationship ever has a chance.

[ohyoufool]

Omgcp holiday poll time. Begin.

[salvagesmha]

Rappa should have joined the League of Villains

Something that was such a missed chance was that Rappa was such a natural fit for the League of Villains that it isn't funny.

Think about it!

For one, he shares their mutual dislike of Overhaul so already there's common ground for the other League and him to get along.

Two, he offers them something they never really lacked and that is 'reasonable close combat power' + likeability. Muscular had the baggage of murdering Kota's parents, and his Pump Up was way too strong to have in the story for too long as a reoccurring threat. Rappa cuts out the established character killing aspect and adds in a layer of honor in just wanting a fair fight. It would've meshed well with the current League being more humanized the more we got to know of them. Plus, in general, himbo that wants a good fight and is generally chill otherwise hits better than 'jerk jock that slaughters anyone for lolz'.

Three, class dynamics!! He would fit in, so, so, so easily as Kirishima's Villain that it HURTS they never saw each other again, even after Rappa claimed to want another shot (seriously what the fuck happened to the rest of the yakuza?!!) He and Kirishima could be like a good indicator of how far Red Riot has come since they last fought and give Rappa the dream match he desires (just, without the death aspect to it XD) Plus, thanks to Vigilantes, he has another dynamic with Mirko that could have easily lend itself to him having a fairer shot reforming in the epilogues.

Four, he could offer a nice look with the MLA/PLF concerning Quirk rights and syncs well with the League's reason for villainy. Rappa became a villain due to overbearing parents controlling his life, which can mirror both Toga and Shiggy's own parentage that affected them to become villains too. He can sympathize with both pretty easily and potentially could have been like another brother to them. On the MLA aspect, given that their whole deal is basically getting unrestricted Quirk access, and Rappa would know from experience the fighting rings he participated in they were created out of need to see some Quirk using fights without the law butting in. So he's probably agree/sympathetic to those who want to just cut loose....but also see if him 'testing' out said MLA soldiers to see how far that desire to rampage goes. Plus, he probably prefers a lax, casual way of getting to his dream rather than, at least initially, the MLA's stuffy, corprorate controlled hierarchy.

Five, I'll be honest, it's just nice to have someone from the Shie Hassaikai stick around as a main stay. I will forever be salty that, aside from a misused Overhaul, NO ONE ELSE was brought back for even the Second War. Whyyyyyy?!! Rappa at least allows them rep to still be in the story and actively doing stuff. (If it were up to me, I'd also allow Chronostasis to slip away to do his own thing, but that's just me XD)

But yeah, this is just me craving something that never happened, but I wish it did so much. Rappa would have been so good to have on-board that it hurts he was just left as a one-shot villain ;_;

[stromuprisahat]

I love your salty comments about Malware,and how out of place he's for the supposed time period the story takes place in. However,his bullshit would still get him in hot water even in a modern/modern analogue setting. Mouthing off to an authority figure like he did with Nikolai wouldn't be a risk of execution/corporal punishment,but it might make a huge stain in his professional record. His deserting the army would get him in trouble even if it was missing workdays with no reason in the most lax modern job ever - aka,fired and with a bad reputation. You made the high school jock comparison,but even they have to have a modicum of responsibility - training, performance,all the works.

Therefore, Malcontent isn't only a modern teenager. He's a privileged modern teenager.

Absolutely.

I wouldn't dare to act in work the way he casually does, especially towards his "betters". You can think whatever you want, but as you wrote- unless you possess very, VERY unique and/or coveted skill (or deep pocket), you're disposable. Fired, fined, sued... depending on specifics of the situation and your contract.

Even when you're sick, you have to at least let your employer know. And there's no guarantee they will wait for you with their arms open.

Funnily enough- Mal's supposed to be the lowest low. No family, contacts, no coin in his pocket... He comes from nothing, his only marketable skill is his tracking mojo, and while he might be faring well in the army, there's no mention of some kind of official recognition. No rise through the ranks, no decorations, no special assignments (He volunteered for the Stag mission, he wasn't picked for it.)...

He's only "special" through his connection to Alina and her insistence to keep dragging him along.

In his case, I wouldn't even call the lack of suitable consequences of his actions plot ARMOUR anymore...

[lokeefe19]

Uzi’s Streamer Life - Recurring Cast

And now here are the Facts and information about The recurring Cast Members within my Modern AU.

Thad Sparker

20 Years old

Height 4.8

Uzi’s First Friend and now Current Co Worker with her at Hot Topic.

Has to deal with the insanity of Living with Three older siblings.

Is native at points but still gives Uzi advice.

He and V constantly end up in misadventures due to them both showing up at the same place.

V constantly thinks he’s annoying but Thad thinks she’s Cool. (And saw her Breasts and her shirtless accidentally.)

Lizzy Sparker

23 years old

Height 5.0

Is Thad’s Older Sister and is Constantly Trying to pretend he’s not her sibling.

Constantly tries to one up Uzi on things and Uzi usually ignores it unless it’s something that’s she already doing like Streaming.

Can’t believe that Uzi has a boyfriend which is a thing Uzi likes to use against her as being better than her.

Secretly likes the color Yellow.

Doll

22 years old

Height 5.4

The Dry humor Making and Lax worker at Uzi’s hot topic.

Always trying to get out of her Assigned task in Work but to no avail.

Has a convertible with a portable Tent for camping.

Makes remarks at their Boss Jane (Or as she likes to be called J) for her constant Rule's.

Does not get Gaming at all.

Think’s Uzi is a strange goth and Thad is a dense Jock.

Tessa James Elliot

23 Years Old.

The Oldest one and the most responsible one out of all the Elliot kids.

Is and has been more of A Mother to both N and V.

Is a semi Great Inventor and Has made a lot of things over the years to the dismay of Her parents.

Has a Boyfriend in the form of Matt. The jock from her high school.

They have been dating for 3 years.

May or may not have cause one or more fires in the Elliot household from her inventions.

CYN

5 Years Old.

Is N,V and Tessa’s Cousin.

Is a little menace (To V at least because of constantly getting the blame for CYN’s chaos).

She really is just a curious little girl who is in the wrong place at the right time.

Loves coloring books even if she can’t finish them.

Likes Hanging Out with Big cousin N and Tessa.

Thought Uzi Was a kid when she first Met her because of her height.

Apologizes frequently if she made a mistake. But N always accepts it.

Likes Chicken nuggets.

[willbegforcock]

#22 I’d eat that sweaty jocked ass until you couldn’t stand it anymore. You’d have to rail me senseless and plant that alpha jock lax cum in me

[ebongawk]

59? 😶‍🌫️

59. “H-How long have you been standing there?”

"FUUUUUUCK!"

The screech actually kinda startled him. He'd been meandering through the woods, on his way to the picnic table at a lax pace, weighed down by the backpack on his shoulders with the motherfucking homework inside that Chrissy was probably actually gonna make him do.

Or. Y'know. He'd assumed. Until her little cheerleader squeal of an expletive he'd never heard erupt from her lungs scattered entire flocks of birds from the trees.

Yeah, he, uh, picked up the pace at that.

The edge of the tree line gave way to the tiny little clearing he'd claimed as a sophomore, when he'd initially begun dealing and had stumbled upon it while looking for somewhere secret to sell. It unequivocally became his, and no one ventured out there without an invitation.

Except Chrissy, of course. What's yours is mine, forever and ever til death do us part and all that wild shit that people shared when they fell in love and kissed each other's faces.

(And other places.)

Chrissy was practically stomping around the table. Her little feet kicked up dead and dying foliage with every angry step, fists clenched at her sides as she mumbled an entire furious conversation to herself.

Eddie leaned up against a tree, watching the display of fury like one might observe an animal at the zoo. (Which, actually, yeah, that was pretty accurate, as he'd never borne witness to this side of Chrissy's emotions and behaviors.)

Watch closely as a lioness, small for her breed, stalks through the underbrush, agitated by an unseen force as she waits for the opportunity to pounce on her unsuspecting prey...

Eddie might've thought he'd done something wrong, had she been like this when he last saw her this morning. But, nah. She was still smiley, excited Chrissy, bouncing in her seat and happy as a clam with a fully-grown pearl under her tongue.

Something else must've happened.

And Eddie had an inkling of an idea––

"Fuck you, Jason!" she screamed into the trees, and yeah, yep, that's what he figured.

One Mr. Jock Itch Carver had been in a particularly sour mood that morning during their shared physics course, shooting Eddie sullen, angry glances every thirty-eight seconds. Eddie, of course, returned them with knowing smirks, because it was hard not to rub it in Jason's face that Eddie got the girl.

They'd been together about three months now. They'd been public for a few weeks, since the start of their relationship and the end of Chrissy and Jason's may or may not have overlapped. But this morning, Jason had been directly in Eddie's line of sight when he tasted the back of Chrissy's tongue in the hallway. And Jesus Christ, if looks could kill, Eddie would be a very smug pile of smoldering ash in the janitor's waste bin by now.

Jason probably could've pretended Eddie hadn't "won the trophy" or whatever other insert-statement-of-misogynistic-idiotic-nonsense-here if Eddie and Chrissy weren't open with public displays of affection. And even then, the lengths he'd gone to while avoiding Hawkins High's Weirdest New Couple were obvious to the population at large.

(Finally, Jonathan Byers and Nancy Wheeler had been forced to relinquish their title. Fist pump of a win, that was.)

Whether or not Eddie had pulled Chrissy into a kiss like that intentionally this morning upon catching Carver's eye was, y'know, between him and Satan or whoever was giving him these incredible gifts of love and adoration and intimacy.

He hadn't really considered the ramifications of doing that until this moment, though.

"UGH! You're such an ASSHOLE!"

The last word was shouted so loudly that Eddie had to wonder if Mrs. Byers heard it from her work-from-home job on the other side of town.

He really should go talk to her. Calm her down, soothe her frustration. Or, shit, maybe be the thing that she took her frustration out on.

(Being, uh, intwined at the picnic table was not easy. But they made it work.)

However.

This was so entertaining.

With her back to him, she finally stopped dead in the center of the clearing, looking up at the sky and fucking shrieking like a banshee in the Irish hills. It transformed into a loud, "YOU CAN'T JUST TELL THE PASTOR THAT I NEED AN EXORCISM BECAUSE OF MY BOYFRIEND, YOU FUCKING LUNATIC!"

That was when Eddie finally lost his composure.

He barked a laugh that had Chrissy whipping around, her wide eyes and anger-flushed face catching him just before he fell into his hyena cackling. She looked briefly mortified before she registered that it was him.

"H-How long have you been standing there?" she asked, her voice drawing closer with every crunchy, leafy step.

Eddie snorted, wiping the tears of humor from his eyes and closing the remaining distance between them.

"Not long enough, I don't think," he answered, still grinning as he pulled her into a hug. "I was gonna say something, but, uh, you seemed pretty preoccupied."

She pressed her face right into the crook of his neck, taking a deep breath, then another, as Eddie tried to squeeze the angry trembling from her shoulders like a toothpaste tube. After about a minute, she relaxed, melting into him so completely they were basically fused into one.

Eddie led her over to the picnic table with awkward, jolting steps, making her giggle as he tried to walk around her prim legs. A heavy sit onto the picnic bench, and Chrissy climbed willingly into his lap, keeping her face hidden as she bracketed his hips with her knees and clutched him tightly around the middle.

"He's such a freaking jerk," she mumbled after a minute.

"Oh, we're at freaking now? What happened to fucking?"

"Eddie."

"Sorry, sorry," he chuckled, running his fingertips up and down the length of her spine. "He really called the pastor huh? Trying to save your soul or something?"

"He thinks I'm possessed!" she cried. "Just because he's never witnessed me making a decision for myself until now!"

"Well, out of the two of you, I can tell you who I think sounds more brainwashed."

She giggled at that, more tension leaving her body as she snuggled further into him. And holy fuck, it was still insane to him that she took comfort in something as simple as his existence. That he was a balm to her upsets and her insecurities. What a fucking ride this was gonna be.

He hoped he never had to get off.

"Sweetness?"

"Yeah?"

"You, uh... You think they'd let me attend your exorcism?"

"Eddie!"

"I'll be so quiet, I swear, I just wanna be in the room––"

"Oh my God, that's not funny!"

Capturing her lips with his, Eddie kissed the broad, bright smile right from her mouth.

"Then why are you laughing?"

ask meme

[otakween]

One Pound Gospel - Volume 1

Yay, new series! (This one was next on MAL after 0 Man). Happy to be reading something by another icon (Rumiko Takahashi). I've never heard anyone talk about this one at all, so I don't know what general opinions are nor do I know anything about the plot. Let's go!

Ch. 1

So we got a boxer in love with a nun...I saw a commenter comparing this premise to Nacho Libre and now I can't unsee it.

(I might need to include a rewatch of that movie, for the meme).

Anyways, our leads are Kosaku and Sister Angela. Kosaku seems like a head empty jock who thinks with his heart and stomach. Sister Angela seems like she can whip him into shape (emotionally lol).

Despite having watched most of Ranma 1/2, I don't think I've ever read a Rumiko Takahashi manga? Craziness! This isn't her first work but it's one of the earlier ones from the 1980s, so I'm expecting some newbie scuff (or maybe she was just a legend from the start?)

Christianity in anime/manga isn't that uncommon, but to have it be one of the main focuses is intriguing. I wonder if we'll find out how Kosaku and Angela came to the religion as Japanese people?

I don't care about boxing at all IRL, but I don't mind reading about it and learning the lingo. Maybe I'll gain an appreciation I didn't have before lol.

Didn't like Kosaku forcing a kiss on Angela (her being a nun makes it extra scuzzy). Oh the 80s...

Ch. 2

See? I'm already learning stuff. Apparently boxers aren't supposed to drink water during a fight (just rinse) and they're not supposed to have sex prior to the fight (I already knew about that one, but this reminded me). That second one's more of a superstition though.

I wasn't sure if Sister Angela wearing her habit all the time was realistic, but I googled it and apparently in some cases that is enforced. Also, I've seen nuns in public wearing habits, so I guess it's legit.

Sister Angela getting plastered was kind of funny but her breaking her wine bottle was a bit extreme. She's kinda unhinged in general, she shows up at Kosaku's match and tells him she'll never forgive him if he loses? (Seems toxic but okay)

The strategies Kosaku's coach has him using to make weight are kinda fucked up (borderline disordered). Starving himself, laxatives and sweating the weight off. I'm sure that happens plenty IRL though. Pretty sad that athletes feel the need to put their bodies through that.

Ch. 3

People in Japan...they can't actually down like 5 bowls of ramen right, that's just an anime thing? I eat one bowl and I need to lie down lol.

I look forward to seeing the food in the adaptations of the manga. Particularly in the live action.

The crucifix falling over when Angela prays for Kosaku was a funny gag.

At this point in the story the focus is definitely more on Kosaku's boxing career than on romance. I wonder if it will kind of go back and forth between the two or if the romance will always just be on the sidelines?

Ch. 4

I can't tell if Kosaku has a food addiction or if they're literally starving him. They never show him eating healthy/low calorie food that's approved by his coach so it kind of feels like he's just not allowed to eat at all. Anyone would obsessively seek out food if that's the case! He did mention "diet" earlier, so I'll hope it's not...

If I was let loose in Tokyo I'd struggle with food temptation too lol. So much street food... (Wait, is this set in Tokyo?)

Ch. 5

Kosaku stumbles into a win after throwing up in the ring again. Apparently you're allowed to win by yeeting your opponent outside the ring? Seems wrong, but what do I know

All this starvation-binge stuff is making me a little nauseous. There's gotta be a better way!

Ch. 6

You know how straight dudes in the 1980s dressed in a way that seems gay-coded by today's standards? That's kinda what Kosaku's giving. He's really cute. (Not much of a personality tho)

Takahashi sure likes her repetitive gags doesn't she? A lot of "comedy" anime do this and it's frankly kind of frustrating. I'm not gonna laugh when you do the same joke for the millionth time...

They seriously just should have put him in a heavier weight class sooner, but it feels like I'm missing something here. Why does it matter which weight class you're in and why are some more sought after than others? -shrug-

I also don't get the "4 rounds" vs. "6 rounds" thing. Is it like baseball vs. softball or something? At least Sister Angela is just as clueless as me!

Ch. 7

Okay so apparently you pick your weight class based on your bone structure, I get it I don't really get it

Ch. 8

Okay, I immediately hate Onimaru for begging his pregnant wife to have a son and not a daughter 😒 I hope Kosaku kicks his ass

It almost seems like a conflict of interest to have your friend do your confession, no?

This series is reminding me of Spy x Family. Like you know how in that show Yor's plotline is mostly sidelined compared to Loid's? That's kinda how the Kosaku/Angela balance feels here.

Ch. 9

I really don't know anything about boxing, so I don't know what makes a good or bad fight, but this one seemed really pathetic lol. I'm glad at least Onimaru wasn't a sore loser, he probably needed to be humbled anyways.

The manga seems to be implying that Kosaku is fat which...huh? He doesn't look fat at all? Sure, he eats like a fat person but...I think 1980s "fat" meant something different lol.

IDK why Angela is so set on Kosaku being in the lower weight class. I guess it's good to be disciplined, so she sees that as the morally right thing to do?

So so far this seems like a very low stakes manga. It's leaning more towards the sports genre than the romcom, which isn't really what I expected. Well, after 0-Man I could definitely use an easy-breezy read like this. Onto the next volume!

[klapollo]

about your post on having a new york accent on certain words - i'm from new jersey and when bon appetit was still big and uncancelled the fermentation guy who was weirdly lax about botulism risk would always get made fun of for saying water like wourder and i was laughing along too until i realized one day that we say it the exact same way. i hate that white jock for making me realize this about myself 😭

Ohhhh see now I'm wondering if I say it the same way......I'm mumbling "water" to myself in the middle of Penn station LOL