#StB

[superblysubpar]

Simply The Best

spiderman!steve harrington x fem!reader

While his group of young friends unravel a series of extraordinary mysteries and secret government exploits in Hawkins, Indiana, Steve Harrington gains supernatural abilities after being bitten by a spider.

He thought always being the babysitter was plenty of responsibility, but with these superhuman powers, Steve’s need to protect only grows.

With a new threat against his sinister plans, a vengeful enemy is willing to stop at nothing in his quest for power, and everyone Steve loves is directly in his path for it.

🕸 key things to note about this series

Prologue: Meanwhile...

Chapter Eight: The Battle of Starcourt

Chapter Three: The Monster and The Superhero

Chapter Four: Dear Billy

Chapter Six: The Dive

Chapter Nine: The Piggyback

Chapter One: The Crawl

Chapter Two: Dear Steve

Chapter Three: The Weirdo on Cornwallis Street

Chapter Four: Great Power

Chapter Five: Pretty Damn Good Babysitter

Chapter Six: The Disappearance of Nancy Wheeler

Chapter Seven: Yes, My Spider-Lord

Chapter Eight: It’s All Bullshit

Chapter Nine: A Leap of Faith

Chapter Ten: Great Responsibility

the playlist

the vibes

[eriyu]

anyway i think the stormblood mch quests might be my favorite job quests in the game?

[brother-one]

another 50k drawings to the brutus house

[mmediocreman]

reblogs are greatly appreciated P.O for my ff14 fanzine: Across the Rift is up!

-5 books of each expansion each 30p A5 size

-8 FF charms (including FF7 and FF16)

-free sticker for bundles

-free print of your commission included if you have comm-ed me

-ships from indonesia

-P.O ends June 2nd

FOR INTL: https://acrosstheriftzine.bigcartel.com

FORM LOKAL: https://forms.gle/vvh1YtmmnXUS2sm96

KATALOG LOKAL: https://acrosstheriftzine.carrd.co

feel free to dm or comment to ask for any questions

[az-azazel]

What do we think

[transit-fag]

Let's go, they are finally investigating the freight companies for fucking up my operations, only took them 15 years to do it. This could make the Sunset Limited usable again

https://www.railwayage.com/regulatory/stb-initiates-first-of-its-kind-investigation-into-amtraks-sunset-limited-on-time-performance/

[touhou-memories]

Although it's using the exact same two textures, Ran Yakumo's spellcard background has a completely different colour in Unfinished Dream of All Living Ghost compared to Shoot the Bullet.

The background is now blue, compared to it's previously dark orange tint. Also, the spinning texture seems to move slower in Unfinished Dream of All Living Ghost.

[7marichan714]

🌟Minion Pins - Odder Otter🌟 Stay tuned for more design reveals!

MY COMMISSIONS INFO

[in3fin]

“*caresses my face* gonna get freaky wit u😈😈😈”WGATRHR FUCK DO YOUMEA

[mistythedritten]

The final chapter

over a year later and with a 68 page document, my first co-authored fic is finished.

thank you to everyone who read and kudos and commented. can't wait to see what the new year brings us all!

[stxrmnight]

GFacials done in a rush before Graphics Update, Part 4

With Fraywol the ship of all time <3 other references under the cut

[superblysubpar]

You’ve always liked taking pictures.

Liked the concept of quite literally capturing a moment in time.

You’ve always liked the way people look when they think no one sees them.

Liked the concept of an image telling you a story that maybe the person or people in it can’t say with words.

You’ve always liked that despite time always ticking past, the image stays frozen, seemingly forever.

Liked how the snapshot can’t be altered like the memory in your brain can be.

How your youth could be preserved. Every inch of child-like wonder could be saved in pursed lips about to blow on a dandelion and make a wish. Innocence never lost because it’s there, in your cherry smile and his grape tongue. Teenage defiance literally still digging her heels in - to the earth beneath them as he tried to pull you towards a pool fully clothed just to get you to laugh instead of cry.

In the pictures, these things remain intact, somehow. These moments, these feelings, this time of our lives that we don’t know we’re going to miss until it’s too late.

And it’s always too late - we never learn, we never listen.

They try, these older and wiser people around us, to get us to.

Slow down. Enjoy it. When you’re older…

You are going to miss this.

But we seem destined to learn it the hard way, no matter what’s done to prepare us for it. A lesson brutally and swiftly delivered as we take an unaware turn down a street that’s a one way with a dead end.

We aren’t a kid anymore, and it’s time to grow up.

But in those pictures?

We don’t have to.

There, fear and doubt and grief and so much more that seems to fall heavier on your shoulders with each step further from adolescence, don’t exist yet.

In the pictures, you don’t have to wonder if he smiled at you like that because the proof is right there. The chlorine and lemonade wafts up from the splash of turquoise water stark against bright red trunks. And sometimes, if you focus hard enough, it’s like his hand is in yours as you look at the indigo and tangerine and blush swirling together in a beautiful sunrise, can still feel the roof shingles digging into your back and staining your favorite shirt, but you don’t care, ‘cause you’re with him.

Your fingers glide over the polaroid square, next to an opened envelope with it’s document still sitting inside - taped to the page. A dried lilac between both.

But not everything can be so well preserved, not everything can last. It’s easy for fear and doubt to wrap around you, to take deep roots. Soon they’ll take over until there’s nothing left, and then they’ll constrict the life out of what they’ve taken, forcing you to doubt - to wonder over and over again if you remember it differently than him. If he’ll forget you.

If he already has.

You will it to never be so as you close your sketchbook once more and carefully return it to the inside of your backpack.

You’re told you lose yourself when you look at pictures, or when you’re in the process of taking them yourself. Like you’ve stepped into another world, a quieter, softer one, that acts like time isn’t real. No matter how many times it happens it’s always a rude wake up call when that isn’t the truth when you return.

The conversation of the woman behind the metal counter is still going on. Her nails click against the sleek silver as the fingers of her other hand twirl the phone cord around three times, release, then start over. Her strawberry bubblegum snaps between her lips as smoke from the more ash than glow end of her cigarette dissipates in front of her. She doesn’t seem to care, more focused on telling Beth that Ava told Margaret swear on her mother’s life that Grant was having an affair.

Your camera clicks loudly as you wonder if Beth already knew.

A woman’s needles click together across from your seat, a harmony formed with the loud clock above the pair of you, as a pale yellow hat forms slowly against her thighs.

“To or from?” She squints her eyes at you, like she’s just caught you grabbing a cookie before dinner.

“I’m sorry?”

Click, tick, click, tock.

“Are you…” she frowns at the hat and sighs, then looks up at you with the shake of her head, “Swear to god, my brother’s baby better be cute, and they told me hats were easy…”

Your pointer finger twitches against the shutter, the familiar soothe and ache in the same breath settles over your muscles and stomach as you fight the urge to capture a moment you’re sure you’re going to want to look back on before it’s even happened.

The woman shakes the needles like they’re just not getting it as her frown turns to a deeper scowl. But when she looks up at you, she’s nothing but kind. Pink smile stained with red lipstick, laugh crinkling skin next to blue eyes. The needles drop to her lap as she waves green polished fingers in the air in your direction.

“You’ve got that look about you. You’re a runner. I was just curious if you were running to or from.”

The observation catches you off guard, goosebumps shooting to the surface of the skin on your neck much like when you feel you’re being followed or watched.

“Oh…um-”

A loud bell rings, then the woman behind the counter’s voice calls out over a speaker, far less crisp than her phone conversation and much more static filled.

“Chicago to Indianapolis with connections to Bloomington, Carmel, Hawkins, Lafayette, and Terre Haute departs in five minutes. Chicago to Indianapolis with connections to Bloomington, Carmel, Hawkins, Lafayette, and Terre Haute departs in five minutes.”

Your knees crack when your spine stretches, uncurling from the seat you’ve been in since this morning. Your hands fiddle with the camera around your neck and the backpack straps digging into your shoulders. When you turn towards the woman again, her needles are back to clicking as the buzz of the intercom fades.

“I’m honestly not sure anymore,” you admit to her in a whisper, looking over your shoulder at the double glass doors you’re about to walk through swinging open, bringing in new travelers and fumes of exhaust with each swoosh.

“He good? This guy you’re running to?”

You’re stunned into a silence you’ve never found yourself in. Is it similar to how it feels to have an explosion go off too close and unexpectedly? The kind of silence that presents itself because the reality and severity of the situation are too loud to bear, so your body has to protect itself, only hearing what it can handle. It’s impact can’t be denied though - it’s loud, it demands to be heard and fast, only giving you seconds to wrap your head around what just happened. It buzzes in your ears before it rings, it hangs in the air, tangible and thick like smoke left over after everything was just wiped away in a second.

“The best,” truest words you’ve ever said stick in your throat, like they’re dragging your guts and heart right out with them and you’re not sure why you just offered them up like that.

She hums, her gaze flits up to meet yours before it returns to her gift. “The girl? Doing the running?”

You don’t know what makes you say it, what makes you tell this absolute stranger the truth you’ve never wanted to admit.

“A failure. Lonely. Scared. Her life a big red stamp that just reads: Error.”

Her shoulders shrug as if to say she’s heard worse. Her lips twitch in a smile. “You don’t need to listen to it, but some advice from someone who’s a little older, emphasis on a little,” she smiles when she looks up to wink at you, before she says:

“Whatever you’re running from, when you get to your to - make sure not to let go of his hand this time, okay?”

A man coughs as he passes, a heel clicks opposite a knitting needle, both patiently pausing for a tick of the clock before resuming. A newspaper page turns, strawberry gum snaps against teeth as a cigarette’s light completely dims and you look down to see your camera has no more film left.

The woman doesn’t look at you as she smiles wider, freckles scrunching over a nose.

“Guess you’ll just have to remember it all, huh?” She nods her head towards the door, “Think your ride’s leaving, hon.”

Brakes hiss, a door creaks closed just beyond the double doors still swooshing and your heart thuds in your ears as you run towards it. Clammy hands smack the cool glass as a driver rolls his eyes at you, but opens it once more.

“Ya know, last bus of the night and that station isn’t no fun over night. One more second and you’d have been shit outta luck getting to…” He holds his hand out for your ticket. You’re breathless as you pass it over. He clips off the end and whistles, low, then chuckles like it really isn’t that funny. “Well guess you’re still shit outta luck if you’re going to Hawkins, Indiana.”

He closes the door behind you, message clear:

No more running.

series masterlist | part one ->

[eriyu]

Glamtober Day 9: Melee

Can you believe I've never done a glamour with this version of this top?

prompt list

Augmented Lunar Envoy's Stilettos Felicitous Hood (Soot Black/Metallic Purple) Gloam Tabard (Soot Black) Wayfarer's Fingerless Gloves (Shale Brown/Pearl White) Expeditioner's Pantalettes (Soot Black/Shale Brown) Songbird Boots (Soot Black/Shale Brown)

[brother-one]

storm of blood

[orestecius]

I will kiss the narrator from the stanley parable on the mouth

[spoccult]

this is one of my fave moments from beyond MOSTLY because of the way you can see spock nodding along very subtly for a few beats before confirming it's "classical" music

[video description: a short clip from the movie 'star trek beyond' (2016) where 'sabotage' by the beastie boys plays as the soundtrack. the uss franklin surfs within a wave made of swarm ships, leaving a blazing trail of destruction. it cuts to spock and mccoy who have commandeered one of the swarm ships; mccoy asks, "is that classical music?!" after a short pause where spock listens intently, he confirms, "yes doctor, it would seem to be." end id]