#the plot is everywhere

[differentfandomsandthings]

The Acolyte imo is:

I mean, what even is this show?!💀 Sol and Qimir were the only good things here. It should have been about them instead of Osha and Mae...

[egophiliac]

I love your take on Crowley!

I know that the early, non-Diasomnia stories aren't really your thing, but are you reading the novels at all?

I have been following some of the fan translations and the second book seems intense! Would love to hear what you think about them.

thank you! 💚💚💚 I'm not really sure why you think I don't like the earlier arcs though, I love pretty much all the characters and their storis! (I think 5 and 1 are my favorite of the past episodes, though 6 infected me with the Shroud brainrot something fierce.) I just...ESPECIALLY love diasomnia. :') but there is room in my heart for all of these dweebs! like, who among us is not just as ride-or-die for Adeuce as they are for us.

that said, I don't really follow the other adaptations like the manga (aside from a dip-in just to see the new Yuus) or the novels, though I keep meaning to check them out! I do like seeing the differences between the different forms of media, and how certain things get adapted one way or another! but alas, time/a lack of accessibility stands in our way more often than not. :( someday...someday I will have time to consume all of the media...

[phoenixcatch7]

It's always funny to me when in an lu fic the chain is offered bananas and don't accept them. Like, you're offering these high energy adventures free food?? Fruit they'll have never even heard of before??? A ridiculously expensive imported good at best?? AND it boosts your attack?

Not ONE of these idiots would ever turn down something new and interesting to eat at least once. They'd be all over those bananas and immediately get dubbed yiga and I'm honestly surprised no one has used it in a fic yet 🤭

[intotheelliwoods]

Part 3! Hope you all enjoyed the little fma arc!

Part 1 can be found here~ The start of the arc itself in case you missed it can be found here!

Masterpost

Annddd have this bonus :)

[holyblanchett]

So if the road was Billy's doing did Agatha only see the darkhold in the crib because Billy was under the impression she traded it for her son?? In the flashbacks she did not have the Darkhold yet. Nicky was on borrowed time and died from sickness.

[akai-anna]

today i finally managed not fainting straight to bed and decided to work on this personal project, and while looking for references i encountered this freakishly, utterly, ABSO-FCKIN-LUTELY ADORABLE PAGE

and got reminded how much personality and charm Olde DetCo has, and god, i miss it

[spaghetticat3899]

When you absolutely despise something a lot of people like, and no matter what way you look at it you cannot see the appeal, but you know you can’t talk about it in public or else you’ll get dogpiled to hell and back, so you just kinda sit there frothing at the mouth like this

[murdockparker]

Paralyzed

Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: She walked in on a Friday afternoon. Steve needed nothing more than to get to know her--if only he could find it in himself to speak to her.

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: just pure fluff, mentions of murder (but not frfr)

A/N: no this isn't based on a big time rush song you're crazy anyway!! I think this is my first real Steve fic? The first real one I got around to posting I guess. Cheers!

__

It was a Friday afternoon.

Correction, it was a terribly busy Friday afternoon. Family Video was seemingly the place to be, people swarming the building in hopes of renting new releases for their perspective weekends. Steve usually loathed his Friday shifts for this exact reason, countless questions about the new tapes, a dozen or so mothers berating him when a certain movie is out of stock—as if Steve Harrington himself is the reason behind the madness.

But, this afternoon was different. 

This afternoon she walked in. 

He had enough of the madness, leaving Robin all alone to deal with the wolves for a mere five minutes—he needed to get out of there. With his head in his hands, he sat on an unopened box filled to the brim with different assortments of candy—candy he needed to stock sometime today, a fact he surely couldn’t have forgotten even if he tried. Only two minutes into his escape, Robin came bounding in the backroom, a wild look grazing her eyes.

“Steve,” she nearly panted. “You gotta take over for a minute. This woman is just—ugh—not taking no for an answer! I told her we don’t have The Breakfast Club in stock, but oh no, why trust the employee who rented all ten copies earlier today? Huh? How about we give the girl who makes a little over three bucks an hour a hard fucking time!” Robin was rambling at this point, the words falling deaf on Steve’s ears.

“Robs,” Steve groaned, finally looking up at his friend. “Give me another minute, I have a nasty headache—”

“Me too, Harrington,” Robin sighed, plopping down on the box next to him. “Her name’s probably Debra and she’s a beast in fake leopard print.”

Steve snorted with laughter. “Fine, I’ll head back out there,” he stood up, dramatically dusting off his jeans. “I just don’t know why the hell our help wanted sign hasn’t brought in more folks, we’re dying out here.”

“No one wants to work for Keith,” Robin said simply.

“Damn straight,” Steve pointed, pushing his way back onto the sales floor. The leopard printed demon was nowhere to be seen, much to Steve’s utter relief—he didn’t have the energy to fight her off anyway. Finding his way behind the counter, the doorbell rang out, a pavlovian response nearly spilled from Steve’s lips. “Welcome to Family Vid—”

His heart stopped.

She was gorgeous, like she just stepped out of a magazine ad—the one’s his mom bought, not the trashy shit they sell down at the gas station. Sunglasses adorned her temple like a crown, her hair perfectly falling around the pink lenses. Steve didn’t know what to say, it felt as if he simultaneously forgot all the words in the English language and stuffed seventeen Saltines in his mouth—he was tongue tied.

“Uh, hi,” the girl said softly, waving towards the frozen spectacle behind the counter. “I saw you have a help wanted sign outside?”

Steve could only nod, making a good effort to keep his jaw from falling on the floor. 

“Well,” she smiled, the kind that would make babies giggle at the sight, “I just moved here and sorta need a job so…” A resume was placed on the counter before him. It looked professional—way more than what Family Video could ever hope to ask for from an applicant, anyway. Steve couldn’t stop reading it. She was literally an angel, an answer to his very prayers—every one of them. If he had the power to hire her on the spot, he’d be tossing her a green vest from the back without a second thought. Part of him was cursing the fact Keith wasn’t here to interview her this very second, he needed to get to know this girl. 

“I-I…” Steve tried to speak, feeling his cheeks grow inflamed with embarrassment. He wasn’t used to being so… foolish around a girl.

“Steve, is it?” 

She knew his name. 

Of course he knew she read it off his name tag, he wasn’t that thick, but hearing it come straight from her lips? He could have melted directly into the floor and no one could have stopped him. 

“Yeah, this doofus here’s Steve, I’m Robin,” Robin appeared by his side, seemingly in the knick of time. “Don’t worry about him, we’re getting him the help he needs.”

The mystery girl giggled. “Ah, I see.”

“You want to apply here?” Robin asked, prying the resume from Steve’s—reluctant—hands. “Oh thank God, we’re dying for more bodies around here.”

“I love movies,” she explained quickly, noting how intently Robin was reading over her simple paper. “A-and I used to work at a movie theater back home before moving here, so I know a lot about the recent releases—”

“I’m gonna be honest,” Robin said, leaning onto the counter, voice dripping with secrecy. “You’re probably too good for this place, I mean, way too good for this shit-hole—”

“I need a job,” she repeated, almost desperately. “My folks forced me to move here and I’m trying to save up to get my own place back in Chicago, I’m not built for this small-town bullshit.”

This made Robin explode with laughter and Steve shrivel in despair. She had an expiration date—a way out of Hawkins.

“Well, I’ll make sure to pass this off to our manager—with a glowing recommendation, of course,” Robin winked.

“I appreciate it!” She smiled again, the sight nearly had Steve wishing he had his own pair of sunglasses to wear—it was blinding. “Well, I hope to see you guys around?”

“We’ll be here!” Robin called out, watching the girl walk back towards the door and out towards her car. A hand smacked across Steve’s bicep. 

“Hey!” He finally responded, rubbing the aforementioned spot. “What the hell?”

“I should bring that whiteboard out of retirement,” Robin arched her brow. “You’re positively hopeless, Steve Harrington. What the fuck was that all about?” 

“I don’t know, Robs,” Steve sighed. “She was just—I didn’t even know what to say!”

“Clearly,” she snorted. “You looked like a gaping trout—”

“I did not—”

“This was worse than the girl who asked for a Mint-Choco Deluxe and you handed her a straight scoop of ice cream—no cone. I had to practically chase her out with a stack of napkins and a thousand apologies.”

Steve cringed at the memory. “Maybe…”

“When Keith hires her—and you know he’s gonna—you better get your act together. I don’t wanna deal with…this every day.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve waved. “Sure.”

And deal with it, she did. 

(Y/N) was her name, Steve had the pleasure of unpacking her new name tag for her first day. He almost wanted to keep it, but figured it would make him look like a crazed lunatic. Patiently, he waited by the front door, hoping to see her pull up in her car, ready and rearing for her first day on the job. Steve begged Robin to allow him the pleasure of training her, given he could somehow speak in her presence, of course. She simply rolled her eyes and agreed to the shift exchange. 

A shiny, cherry-red BMW peeled into the lot—Steve noted it looked awfully familiar to his own car, minus the color of course. It seemed a bit out of place in a small town like Hawkins, but the car had suited her just fine. Everything about her suited her kindly, Steve had noticed, especially the clothing she wore. Family Video was no place for a fashion show, Steve could attest to that himself, but with the way she was practically strutting towards the doors? The parking lot was her runway and he was begging to see more. 

“Good morning!” (Y/N) greeted cheerfully, pushing the glass door open wide.

“Morning,” Steve managed to squeak out. He pushed the unflattering green vest towards her. “Your uniform.” She easily slipped the fabric over her own shirt, the stark whiteness of her blouse really made the green pop.

“Well?” She spun around, twirling like a princess. “Do I look the part?”

Steve could only nod. 

“So what’s the first thing on the agenda? Do y’all have a time clock?”

Steve nodded again, pointing his thumb towards the break room.

“Ok..ay…” She said quietly, walking in the direction she was given.

He could cry—it was so pathetic. The way this girl had him so worked up? How was he expected to train her? No, forget training her, how was he supposed to even talk to her? Steve had been in pickles before, but this one took the cake.

“So you just… don’t speak then?”

She had managed to sneak up behind Steve, who had clearly been deep in thought. Her angelic voice alone made him jump. 

“I-I speak,” Steve explained. “I just… have a lot on my plate currently, s’all.”

“I’m sure working at the Family Video is real hard work, superstar,” she giggled, jumping up onto the countertop. “But I’m glad I don’t have to understand your training through charades."

“I’m pretty good at charades,” Steve said, crossing his arms. “O-or so I’m told…”

“I’ll take your word for it,” she smiled. “But seriously, I really thought you just didn’t want to talk to me or something.”

That couldn’t have been farther from the truth. 

“So… I should probably show you the computer system for rentals,” Steve tried changing the subject—poorly, but she graciously turned her attention to the computer she so-conveniently sat next to. “Y’know, because that’s like, the entire job.”

The girl leaned in, not daring to remove herself from the counter top, trying to see what Steve was clicking on. 

“You seem tense,” she noticed. 

“It takes me a while to get warmed up to new people,” he lied. 

“What? Like a cat?”

“…exactly like a cat.”

“Well, Steve,” she hopped off the counter, “it’s a good thing I like cats.”

He tried his best to hide the redness flooding his cheeks.

She made Family Video more enjoyable, even after her first shift, Steve thought. He already liked the job enough, spending time with his best friend and getting paid for it was already a huge perk, but now that he got to know her? He might just keep this job forever.

Forever lasted only four months. 

“Steve!”

He peeked his head over the horror aisle, finding (Y/N) staring at him expectantly from the front counter. 

“Yes?”

“I’m dying over here,” she said dramatically, falling over on the countertop. “It’s so… boring.”

“It’s a Monday morning,” Steve said simply, commanding every fiber in his being to not shrug at the statement. “Mondays are usually boring around here.”

“Everything about Hawkins is boring,” she said, not lifting her face up from the counter. “How do you manage living in this God-forsaken town?”

“I don’t think everything is boring,” Steve scoffed, ignoring the rest of the tapes that needed to be put away. His feet were already leading him towards the counter, as if they had a mind of their own. “I mean, I doubt you’ve run through everything this town's got to offer?”

She lifted her head up from the counter, a red mark gracing her forehead. “In the last four months of living here? I think I have. Hell, the one cool place y’all could have had burned to the ground.”

Steve winced at the mention of StarCourt, the wounds still fresh. “It wasn’t that cool…”

“Fine,” (Y/N) propped herself up, head in her hands, “name one cool place in Hawkins.”

“Skull Rock.”

He doesn’t know why he said it.

“Skull Rock?”

“Uh, yeah,” Steve sheepishly said, hand finding the back of his neck quickly. “It’s the go-to for the coolest kids in Hawkins—made popular by yours truly.”

“And what exactly is Skull Rock?” Her arms were neatly crossed by the time he managed to look back at her. 

A make-out spot.

“A-an… experience?” Steve squeaked, trying his best to sound cool. “It’s hard to explain, you just kinda gotta go and see for yourself.”

“Huh,” she tutted. “Why haven’t I heard of this Skull Rock until now? Certainly if it was as neat as you say it is I would’ve heard about it by now.”

“It’s underground,” Steve tried to convince her. “Not physically, I mean. It's above ground, I promise. Underground in the sense that only the cool kids know about it.”

She snorted. “Cool kids?”

“Y-yeah,” He tried to double down.

“As in, like, high schoolers?”

“Other people besides high schoolers can be cool kids, y’know,” Steve said, trying his best not to cough. 

“Maybe I’ll ask Robin about it when she comes in—”

“I could take you?” Steve is quick to interject. “To Skull Rock, I mean. Tonight, if you’re free.”

A smile crept across her ruby red lips. “Like a date?”

“Pshht, no,” Steve waved. “Like a thing friends do! An activity of sorts.”

“Sounds like a date.”

“An activity,” Steve corrected, feeling queasy at the thought she may actually say yes. 

As if mulling over her options for the evening, (Y/N) stared directly into Steve Harrington’s brown eyes, pinning him to the spot with such a glare. “Hm. Alright.”

“A-alright?”

“Do you think I have to change for this ‘activity’?” (Y/N) motioned her hands up and down her body, giving Steve actual permission to fully look at her. Her outfit was already sensible enough—she was here to work, after all—he didn’t ever see a reason for her to change.

“Maybe different shoes?” Steve offered, looking down at her feet, adorned with ruby red flats to match her lips. 

“What sort of shoes do you recommend? These are my favorite flats.”

“Sneakers. Something you don’t mind getting dirty—”

“I don’t mind getting these dirty.”

“Something more suitable for the forest,” Steve amended. “Sticks, mud, poison ivy. Would hate for the tops of your feet to succumb to that bullshit.”

“Succumb,” (Y/N) repeated. “Big word.”

“Average word,” Steve mumbled, feeling only a tad bit embarrassed.

“Average is fine,” she shrugged. “I have sneakers in my car. We could go after work?”

—

Six o’clock couldn’t have come faster. 

Steve had spent the last few hours of his shift trying to best plan his escape from Family Video—an escape that involved pulling (Y/N) into his car before Robin could tell her what Skull Rock really was. Thankfully, (Y/N) hadn’t had the mind to tell Robin what their plans were after work yet, but he knew it would come.

The minute hand finally ticked to the top of the clock. 6pm on the dot. Steve practically threw off his vest and ran to the wall clock to punch out.

“In a rush?” Robin asked. 

“Something like that,” Steve said, not wanting to share much more. 

“Well, enjoy yourself Rob!” (Y/N) nearly sang, now standing behind Steve waiting for her turn with the wall clock. “I left the counter nice and warm for you!”

“I know you meant that to sound endearing, but it just sounds gross,” Robin laughed, not even looking up from the book she had been reading. “Get out of here before Keith makes you both work overtime.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” (Y/N) said, pushing her pink sunglasses—which were housed in the tiny locker she used every day—onto her head. “Besides, we’ve got plans.”

“We?”

“Gotta go Robin!” Steve could only shout, pushing (Y/N) out of the small room in the back—it could hardly be called a break room. Containing a small T.V on the wall, a stack of lockers, a small fridge, quaint table and a broken microwave.

“Alright, weirdo,” (Y/N) laughed, “we made it outside.”

Steve hand only blinked, but she was right. Somehow he didn’t recall the jaunt from the break room to the front door, much less the fact they made it out to their cars. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” she laughed again, “oh.”

He was sure his face was the near same color as her lipstick—cherry red and probably emitting the heat of a thousand suns. “Are you gonna change your shoes?” Somehow he strung together a full sentence.

“Go start up your car, pretty boy,” (Y/N) said smoothly, “I’ll meet you in a second.”

Pretty boy. 

Start up his car, he did. He fumbled through the few cassette tapes he stored in his glove box, eager to find one she’d like. Though a thought like this had crossed his mind a handful of times, he never thought she’d actually agree to go out with him. No, not go out, this wasn’t a date. Right? 

She had called him pretty boy. 

And he was planning on taking her to the unofficial make out spot of Hawkins. 

Maybe it was a date. 

“There!” (Y/N) exclaimed, sliding into his passenger seat, showing off her worn shoes. “My well-loved sneakers! Just like you requested. How I allowed you to talk me into going to a random forest is beyond me.”

Me too. Steve thought. 

“You’re not going to murder me, right?”

“What!?” Steve had already begun driving to their destination, but her sudden question had him nearly swerving off the road. “No!”

“That’s what a murderer would say.”

“I—why would I…?” Steve was at a loss for words. “If I was going to murder you, don’t you think I’d admit to it at this point?”

“No,” she shrugged, crossing her legs. Her sneakers were red too—her favorite color, perhaps? “I assume you’d admit it right before you kill me, not in transit to the murder location.”

Steve could only laugh. “You confuse me.”

“You love me,” she admonished. 

Maybe he did, and if he didn’t? He certainly could see himself, though, sooner than later. 

It only took another fifteen minutes of driving to reach their destination, parking his beloved BMW in a spot he knew all too well—part of himself cringed that he could admit that, even to just himself. “We’re here.”

“I’m still not convinced you’re not going to murder me,” (Y/N) hummed, hopping out of the car, a spring in her step. 

He couldn’t help but chuckle, popping his trunk to dig for a blanket he knew he had left behind for one reason or another. “Come on,” he ducked his head towards a clearing, “it’s this way.”

“You really have to start explaining the appeal, Harrington,” (Y/N) said, pushing past a rather suspicious looking bush, following closely behind Steve. “This trek is nothing to scoff at.”

“Do you trust me?”

“I thought the murder accusations already confirmed that I did not?”

“Yet you still got into a car with me,” Steve said.

“I still got into a car with you,” she repeated. 

As if on cue, Skull Rock, in all of its glory, peeked through the brush and into view—thankfully with no one else around. 

“We made it!” Steve exclaimed, nearly impressed he remembered how to get here. Quickly unfurling the blanket he grabbed, he sat on the ground. “Come on, I promise it’s clean.”

“Doubting that,” she said, still sitting beside him. “So, spill it, what makes this place so cool?”

Steve took a deep breath. 

“I, uh, may have stretched the truth a bit?”

“How far?”

“Huh?”

“How far did you stretch the truth?”

“Not by much…”

“You’re sweating,” she pointed. 

“No I’m not!” Steve said, trying his very best to not look down at his pits, afraid they were betraying him. Looking back up at the girl sitting beside him, her ruby lips were twisted in a wicked smirk. “You’re making fun of me.”

“Nah,” she said, almost sounding honest. “But I also know pretty well what goes on around this rock—sick as fuck, by the way, it really looks like a skull.”

“You know about Skull Rock?” He was nearly dejected, embarrassed, even.

“I do.”

“And you still came here with me?”

“If it meant I could spend some time with you outside of work? Sure,” she said with her brilliant smile. “Though, don’t expect any swapping of saliva.”

“Then why…?”

Her knees tucked under her chin, arms wrapped fully around them. “I don’t have many friends here. You and Robin kind of are it for me, at least, since I moved here. I figured I should try and spend time with y’all before I move again.”

Her big move. The one she was saving up for. 

“Back to Chicago, right?”

She nodded. “Yeah. Though, it’s going to be a while until I do actually move. Who knew trying to rent your own apartment in a big city is stupid expensive? Wait—don’t answer that, that’s a stupid fucking observation.”

“It’s a bit silly,” he agreed, trying his best not to laugh. “But, yeah, way more expensive than Hawkins.”

The sun had begun to set, not that they could see it, through the trees and all, but the sky was now a warm orange. The kind of color that reminded Steve of summer, melted creamsicles and sweet memories.

“What’s in Chicago, anyway?” Steve finally asked, eyes glued to the sky. The question had been on the tip of his tongue since he met her. “I mean, I never really hear you talk much about it—only when you feel the need to dig at Hawkins.”

“It’s where I grew up,” she shrugged. “All of my friends are out there, my life is out there.”

“I mean, you did just say Robin and I were your friends?” He offered, leaning back on his hands. 

She narrowed her gaze, pulling her head up from her knees ever-so-slightly. “Most of my friends are out there,” she corrected. “I just… my dad moved out here for work, a job he literally can’t tell us about—my mom is stuck being some bored housewife waiting every night for him to come home, slaving over a home cooked meal, and I’m just his failure of a daughter who works at a video store.”

Steve knows that feeling a bit too well. 

“It doesn’t even have to be Chicago,” she chuckled, mostly to herself. “I just can’t stay here. My forward thinking mind is too big for this town. I figure, maybe in the city I can find myself, figure out what this planet has in store for me, you know?”

“I do.”

“You do?”

“I mean, I never had the thought to leave Hawkins,” Steve said, still looking up at the sky—darker now, but still orange. “Especially now with all of the…”

How does he explain the Upside Down? Does he explain the Upside Down? No. She doesn’t need to know. Not yet, anyway.

“…you know, the missing people,” he finally said, finding the right explanation. “But the idea of going to a big city, finding my way and maybe figuring out what this big head is good for?” His self deprecating laugh echoed from under the large rock formation. “I get it.”

“Y’know,” (Y/N) relaxed her grip on her knees, “my mom had hesitations about moving here because of the missing people—afraid I was going to go missing too.”

“And your dad still moved you here anyway?” Steve still couldn’t wrap his head around the fact people would move here willingly, especially all that’s been in the news about their small town. 

“I told you, big secret job,” she said, as if that was the only answer. “My dad’s answer to the problem was buying my mom a new kitchen set and me a car.”

“The BMW?”

“Hell yeah,” she snorted. “Though I suppose once I get to the city—any of them, I’ve decided—I’ll sell it. No need for a car if you’ve got decent public transit. I wonder how much I can get for it?”

“Probably less than what you’re thinking.”

“You’re probably right.”

The sun had finally set, leaving a hazy, sort of mystical hue over the rock and clearing. 

“You could come with me, you know,” (Y/N) finally spoke up. 

“Huh?”

“Get out of Hawkins? Lord knows I’d need a roommate. Rent is gonna be insane regardless.”

He pondered the thought. Moving out of this God-forsaken town with practically the girl of his dreams? It sounded too good to be true. “Huh.”

“You obviously don’t have to answer right now,” she said, nearly flustered. Was she flustered? “It was just a dumb thought…”

“It’s not dumb,” he said steadily, truthfully. “Not dumb at all.”

“What? You’re actually considering it?”

“Don’t ask me things if you’re not serious about them,” Steve joked, pointing at her. “I mean, it sounds pretty perfect. Leaving Hawkins, making a way for myself, trying to not rely on my parents… I dunno. Something to think about.”

She only nodded.

“Of course, I can’t leave yet,” Steve corrected, mostly to himself. “I have… unfinished business.”

“Ominous,” she snorted. 

“A man has his secrets,” he smirked, turning to look at her. “Not murder-y secrets, I really can’t stress that one enough.”

“Handsome, funny and mysterious, the full package,” she hummed.

“You think I’m handsome?”

“I don’t want to stroke your ego,” (Y/N) said. “Surely you know you’re handsome.”

“I didn’t know you thought I was handsome.”

“I think everyone thinks you’re handsome,” her eyebrow raised. “Especially all those girls who come in to rent movies I know for a fact they have no interest in. Robin says you had a similar effect back at the ice cream place.”

“You’ve talked to Robin about my handsomeness?”

“I’ve talked to Robin about your obliviousness,” she corrected, “I think there’s a difference.”

He felt like his brain was melting. If he had a mirror, he’d check his ears to make sure no pink matter was dripping out. “But you think I’m handsome?” If the lighting hadn’t been as low as it was, he’d probably be able to see just how dark her cheeks had become.

“Irrelevant.”

He found the courage to scoot a little closer to her. “I mean, I think it’s pretty relevant… considering I think you’re pretty handsome too.”

Her head couldn’t have turned faster.

“Beautiful! I meant beautiful! Not that you can’t be handsome,” Steve felt himself choking on his own foot, falling deeper into a hole he knew he couldn’t get out of. “If you’d rather be called handsome, that’s fine by me, but traditionally, you’re stunning—so so pretty and I—”

“Steve—”

“A-and I’m messing this up,” Steve deflates. The crickets around Skull Rock must have been paid actors at this point. Steve made a mental note to bring a can of Raid the next time he came here—revenge of some sorts. “I can’t believe I’m messing this up.”

Something slightly wet touched his cheek.

“I don’t think you’re messing anything up,” (Y/N) said, pulling away from his face. She kissed his cheek. “I think you’re a little silly and overthinking a lot, though.”

“You kissed me?”

“I kissed your cheek, no need to short-circuit,” she smiled softly. “I figured it was a good way to bring you back down to Earth. Did it work?”

He nodded, a bit too fast for his liking. “Uh, yeah. I think so.”

“Good,” she said, so sure of herself. “You were really spiraling there for a moment.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, I guess I was.”

More crickets. 

“Would you have kissed Robin on the cheek? If she was spiraling like that?”

“No,” she said honestly. “Just you.”

“Oh.”

“You took me to the make-out spot of Hawkins,” (Y/N) gestured to the rock above them. “Did you expect me to not kiss you?”

“You kissed my cheek,” he clarified, feeling bolder. “I don’t think that counts.”

“Hm,” she tapped her chin in faux-thought. “It probably doesn’t.”

“I could let you try again?”

“Oh you’d let me?” She crossed her arms, voice airy, light.

“Or I could kiss you,” he shrugged. “Dealers choice.”

“Oh what endless options I have,” she laughed, getting up from the blanket. It was only a little scratchy. “Come on, pretty boy, it’s getting late. My mom is probably worried sick I haven’t made it home yet. Probably waiting by the front window with some terrible dinner in the oven, I assume.”

She offered her hand, helping Steve up off the ground. “You’re probably right.”

“This was nice,” she said, walking back to the car. “Thanks for taking me out here, Steve. I finally found the one good thing in Hawkins.”

“Skull Rock is just that impressive, huh?” Steve laughed, his smile reaching his eyes.

“Something like that,” her smile was just as big. 

--

BONUS: “Pop your trunk, I’ll put this nasty blanket away,” (Y/N) said, circling to the back of Steve’s car.

“It’s not that nasty,” he snorted, fulfilling her request. Climbing into his car and starting up the engine, he waited for her to throw the scrap of fabric in the back. In the corner of his eye, he could see her through the mirror, staring intently at the contents of his trunk. “How long does it take to put a blanket away?” He sighed, hopping back out of the car to join her, realizing quickly why she was just staring in his trunk. 

“Y’know,” she clicked, “this doesn’t really help the whole ‘I’m not gonna murder you’ thing.”

In her hands was his tried and true baseball bat—still outfitted with spiky nails and the very essence of dried blood. 

“I-I can explain—”

“You probably can,” she said, throwing the bat back into the trunk, slamming it shut. “How about over dinner sometime?”

He’d be stupid to say no.

[g0ldgauntlet]

Hilichurls and "Tribal" Portrayals.

While we're talking about Natlan, I also want to mention how awful it is that a section of the fandom tried to make us all out to be crazy years ago for pointing out how racist the portrayal of the Hilichurls are.

Quick content warning for mentions of slavery, colonization, genocide, and anti-Indigenous racism. (Image description is in alt text)

Hoyo used Indigenous people as references for these in-game enemies, which we literally have video proof of, provided by the company itself (Timestamp: 1:30).

The Hilichurls were constantly belittled by Teyvat's people, with an Inazuma npc likening them to demons. I remember Paimon acting like the items they collected were meaningless or pieces of junk during the earlier parts of the game.

They become a lot more sympathetic later due to their actual origins in-game (which I'm sure @phoenix-creates can confirm for me because I know you're farther ahead in Genshin than I am right now), sure, but I always found it strange that Hoyo used Indigenous cultures to portray these "monsters" who have lost their sense of selves (meanwhile their human forms are white), as if to imply that Indigenous cultures are more "wild" or "savage."

Genshin fans of color, since 2020, have pointed out the racist undertones that Teyvat's people were perpetuating against the Hilichurls due to them acting the same way that racists irl act towards non-White cultures, but they were told that they were overreacting and this was swept under the rug as a result. The very next year, it's brought up again with more people finding out about it, and we were still being told that we're overreacting.

So now that we're at Natlan, is it seriously that hard to believe that Hoyo straight up just doesn't respect Indigenous cultures? Black (and many brown) cultures too, because it's very telling that Iansan, the Natlan character with the darkest skin so far, is given a more stereotypically "tribal" look on her design with a bunch of bones used as her accessories despite that not being what her actual inspiration looks like.

(Artist for picture on the right: vieirapx on Instagram)

Sucrose has confirmed in her "Something to Share" voiceline that she collects Hilichurl bones, which is similar to colonizers taking the bones of dead Indigenous people with this added context.

Also, please read or reread the Teyvat Travel Guide Vol. 1. Alice basically confirms that she wants to enslave the Hilichurls for labor and also feed the weaker ones to the stronger ones.

That latter point is cannibalism. I know that many people are fans of Alice, but a lot of what she talks about in the first guide is why I don't like her.

Yes, it can be argued that Indigenous cultures are not the only inspiration for the Hilichurls, as it's been said that they may take inspiration from goblins, Bokoblins from the Zelda franchise, and the Amanojuku from Japanese mythology. Answer me this question, though.

Why is Hoyo capable of referencing a creature and not a human being when it comes to the Japanese inspiration for the Hilichurls, but this does not apply to the Indigenous references? It's dehumanizing, and it feels like another double-standard that needs to be addressed.

Hoyo has casually made black and brown cultures in Genshin appear to be less civilized and more "tribal" compared to our White and East Asian peers, both with the human characters and the non-human ones. Sumeru's quests and enemy npcs had multiple examples of this, with the Traveler and Jeht even destroying almost the entire Tanit tribe with the narrative justification being that, conveniently, most or all of them were selfish, bloodthirsty, and manipulative (Jeht's profile on the wiki page goes into what happened with more depth). They had to die because the tribe was dangerous - even though the main problem seems to be Babel - and Jeht's white, blonde companion needed to help save everyone from these evil, power-hungry savages.

(Sidenote: I think this is the second time overall that Hoyo has come up with an excuse to justify Traveler committing genocide on an entire group of people, with the first being the Iwakura Clan.)

I'm sure that the same thing is going to happen with Natlan's quests and npcs because Hoyo has always been weird about the portrayal of black and brown-inspired characters. The question is not whether any of the creatures or humans from specific groups are bad, suspicious, or designed to fit a specific image. We know the answer to that. The real question is why they are portrayed like this, and why it keeps happening more commonly to the black and brown cast members compared to our lighter peers.

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

had a human au thought of Barnaby and Wally. idk doing their taxes or going through bills together since they share a house & Barnaby going "hey we could get married for tax benefits and health insurance. wait no what if i want to marry Howdy someday? it's illegal to be married to two people." Wally goes "we could get divorced" and Barnaby gets legitimately sad like:

[ryllen]

Please don't crucified me if this headcanon is deemed unrealistic in real life. (´；ω；`) More notes / detailed notes:

stayed & travelled with the Figs for awhile -- after being found, before finally dropped of to an institution, as the Figs think their travelling life style is not really suitable to raise a child

quickly picked up civilization as he is an intelligent child (that's why he is a ravenclaw)

exchanged letters with the travelling Figs during his time at the institution / orphanage

was a really helpful child during his time at the institution / orphanage that he is close with the staff

he thinks of befriending people is a way of learning & by helping them he gets to experience a lot of different things

a mellow temperament child in general (just like how it is ingame)

likes exploring (bcs damn! we really going places in that game)

picked the silly 'Alex Xander' name himself, maybe he heard a mother called her child with that name once and he is obsessed with that name ever since.

he always writes Xander as his 'family name' to show that he is complete even without a family

actually a bit older than his classmates, as he went through extra few years to catch up to civilization as a feral child

blank template [x]

#anyhow i really love our barn owl; she's so beautiful but with a face like biscuit

[kismetconstellations]

@sockdooe, This is the full original image:

According to the Tumblr post I originally snagged it from, it's an early piece of promotional artwork, meant to depict Keith as the series's central character. Shiro is shoved into the background, presumably to illustrate that he was intended to fulfill a Doomed Mentor role.

[arty-cakes]

am i just blorbo brainpilled to hell or does zote technically haunt the narrative if you leave him to die because of the glaring 'neglect' achievement you earn and how the pale beings did the same things to ghost and the vessels and therefore ghost can never be the same once it consciously decides to do that

[mousy-nona]

Hey this is the anon that had requested the mpreg story with Lucifer havin a drunken night with Alastor that lead to him having a child with Alastor that he didn't know about until Alastor brought the young boy to the hotel. I just want to say that the first part is really good as I see it as a prompt plot backstory that leads into the prompt itself

PART TWOOO 

Less porn, but still some porn, then mostly plot.

You have been warned.

Later that night

Alastor sneered and tried to buck him off again, but this time Lucifer was prepared. His angelic grace kept the bastard pinned into place as Lucifer lowered himself to Alastor’s weeping cock. 

“Now, that’s not very fair,” he scolded. Alastor stared daggers at him, but he couldn’t quite hide the hitch in his breath as Lucifer’s hot breath washed over his sensitive skin. “You had your turn. It’s my turn now.” 

“Fuck. You.” 

A tentative lick was all it took to send Alastor’s head careening back, every muscle in his body clenched as Lucifer sucked on the head of his cock with reckless abandon. The sounds that were coming out of his garbled throat – his heaving chest slick with sweat and desire – his clenched teeth, Lord, his eyes, hazy and drugged with pleasure as he watched Lucifer bob on his dick…

It was almost too much. One wrong move, and Lucifer thought he might cum again. Patience. He forced himself to go slower, to enjoy every waking second of this already half-forgotten dream. 

Alastor groaned. “Coming,” he managed, his voice hoarse as his hips shot up. 

“No you’re not.” 

“Wha–”

Lucifer squeezed the base of his shaft with his fist, stopping the seed from surfacing. His cock strained, swollen and red with pressure as Alastor cried out, his large body twisting wildly under Lucifer’s golden grip. His back arched, his heels dug in hard, his shadows whipping and snarling as he strained to get free, to release. 

Lucifer had never seen anything more erotic in his long, long life. 

“Lucifer!” Alastor, that cold, cruel, merciless soul, sounded close to begging. The radio static had nearly faded from his voice. With a shiver, Lucifer realized that, for the first time, he was hearing Alastor. The real Alastor. 

“Not yet,” Lucifer groaned, wondering if it was possible to come without touching himself at all. He licked his finger and pressed it between Alastor’s legs, the tight hole clenching and gripping his finger as he continued working Alastor’s dick. 

There was a low moan, but otherwise Alastor didn’t put up any more of a fight. His large frame was trembling, his whole self shaking with the need for release. His eyes were glassy, twin rubies shining through the dark as he watched Lucifer with overwhelming need. 

“Lâche-moi,” he whispered.

Let me go.

“Soon,” he whispered. 

He pushed another finger in, and then another. Alastor let his head fall back, his chest heaving, the sizzle of static and sex heavy in the air. Finally, Lucifer withdrew his hand and pressed himself against Alastor’s loosened hole. 

He leaned forward and captured Alastor’s mouth with his own. The wild animal he was, Alastor slashed at his lips with his teeth, gold blood and spit and pre-cum mixing in an unholy trinity as their tongues fought against each other, sloppily, angrily, violently. It was no more a kiss than it was a battle for dominance. There was nothing tender to it. Nothing sweet or loving. 

So that was how he wanted to play this? 

Lucifer snapped his hips forward, nearly losing himself immediately as his cock was swallowed by the tight ring of muscle. Alastor howled, feeling himself filled, claimed. His eyes flashed, but the anger was quickly replaced by ecstasy as Lucifer found the spot, found it over and over again. Both of them were spiraling quickly, their bodies still oversensitized from the last round. Alastor growled, his long limbs twisting and flexing, his eyes widening as cries burst from him, his hips rolling forward to guide Lucifer’s cock deeper, harder. 

The waves of pleasure washed over Lucifer, coming faster and faster as he lost himself in the rhythm of their bodies. He moved his hand down and grasped Alastor’s head in his palm. Alastor choked, his hips lifting, his back arching.

“Come.”

It was the magic word they’d both needed. Alastor clenched around him, a crazed shout ripping from his beautiful throat as Alastor’s unbelievable tightness milked every last drop from him. In that moment, the Heavens could have broken, and Lucifer wouldn’t have noticed. There was Alastor, and only Alastor. 

A whispered “Lucifer,” was the last thing he heard as the darkness claimed him.  -------------------------------

Lucifer woke up the next morning to a throbbing head, an aching ass, and an empty bed, in that order. Alastor was long gone – or maybe he hadn’t been there at all? Could it have been a dream? 

He rolled over in his sheets – and promptly smacked himself in the face with the remnants of his torn clothes. Ow. Okay, not a dream, then. 

Which only left one question: How the Hell was he going to face Alastor? 

But he needn’t have worried. When he made his way down to the kitchen, the table was set for six, not seven, and Husk was the one leaning over a merrily crackling pan, not Alastor. Lucifer had never seen the ex-Overlord in such high spirits. The cat was humming, for Chrissakes. 

“What are you so happy about?” 

“The annoying-ass deer moved outta here last night,” he crowed. “Back to whatever hellhole he crawled out of. Maybe he’ll actually stay there this time!” 

Husk was too busy whistling away to notice Lucifer disappear.

Alastor’s room. His radio station. The lobby. Every dark and shadowy corner. Even Rosie’s shop. Cannibal Colony. Lucifer searched, and searched, and found nothing.

The demon was gone, as surely as if he’d never existed in the first place.  -------------------------------

Days passed, then weeks, then months, and still no sign of Alastor. The others moved on, some faster than others (Husk, who’d damn near thrown a party the first night he’d left), some later (Charlie, who cried for days when she thought no one was looking), but one by one the mentions of Alastor disappeared. Time ticked forward. The world marched on.

Lucifer, though, never stopped looking. Never stopped staring at shadows, never stopped seeing antlers out of the corner of his eye. 

And then, on the fourth anniversary of his disappearance, there was a knock on the door. 

Because life loves symmetry, it was Charlie who answered. The rest of them crowded around the lobby behind her, each one mentally ticking off the names that mattered and realizing none of them was missing. So who was at the door? 

“Welcome to–” Charlie stopped in the middle of her well-practised speech. She went as still as a statue for one breathless second. Then she screamed and jumped onto the tall, lean figure silhouetted in the doorway.

Lucifer’s mouth went dry. No. No, it couldn’t be. 

“Alastor!” Then she gasped, her gaze shifting to a smaller shape standing by Alastor’s side. “And who is this?” 

“This little one is Dio.” The radio static was so familiar and so heart-breaking at the same time, Lucifer felt he’d been shot through the chest with it. “He and I were staying at Rosie’s –”

“Aunt Rosie’s,” a higher voice piped up.

“Yes, Aunt Rosie’s,” Alastor obligingly amended. “We were staying at hers until things had…calmed down, somewhat.” 

“And do you really think you can come barging back in here as if nothing’s happened?” Lucifer barged forward, pushing Charlie to the side. “It’s been four fucking years –” 

His voice trailed off when he came face to face – with himself. Well, almost himself. The boy had his pale skin, his marionette cheeks, but he had Alastor’s antlers, Alastor’s fire hair and Alastor’s bright red, cunning gleam.

Slowly, disbelievingly, he met Alastor’s narrowed eyes. “Who did you say this was?” 

Alastor ignored him, because he was a dirty, annoying, bastard. Instead, he crouched down so he was eye-level with the boy, his face softer than Lucifer had ever seen it. 

“Dio, say hello to your other father.”

“Hello,” the boy – Dio – said. 

That was when Lucifer keeled over in a dead faint. 

When he woke up, the lobby was empty. Well, nearly empty. Alastor was sitting next to him, and the boy was practicing throwing darts at a lumpy doll. There were at least eight darts skewering the doll in the heart, and three more stabbing it in the brain. 

“What did I say? Think about where you want the dart to land, then throw it.” Alastor was saying, sounding like his usual, terse self. Good to see that some things never changed, child or no child.

There was a child. And from the looks of it, it was most definitely his child. 

He groaned and rubbed desperately at his eyes. They both looked at him at the same time. 

“Welcome back, drama queen.” That was Alastor and his sharp tongue. 

“Where is everyone?”

“I told them to take a walk. There’s a couple of things we need to catch up on, and I thought it might be better if we did it without an audience.” 

“A couple of things?” Anger surged through him, hotter than the fires of Hell. His six wings flared wide, and when he stood, a red tail lashed around his legs. Alastor immediately stepped in front of Dio, his shadow tendrils creating a protective shield around the boy.

But it was Dio and his suddenly too-white face that made Lucifer take a step back. He sighed and forced himself to calm down, extinguishing the fire blazing around his head. “You left. You did…that –” he spluttered, feeling his face turn red at Dio’s curious gaze. “With me, and then you left without a word. And now you turn up here – with our child? How did you think I was going to react?” 

“Frankly, I had no idea.” Alastor’s face was carefully blank, smoothed out of any emotion. “That’s exactly why I had to leave. You dote on Charlie, but she was the product of your marriage. How you would have reacted to a son with an enemy was anybody’s guess. I couldn’t take that risk.” 

“Did you really think I wouldn’t have helped you?” Lucifer bit out. “Do you really have such a low opinion of me?”

“Listen to yourself,” Alastor’s voice snapped and snarled, the static thick in his words. “You hated me. That was fine. The feeling was quite mutual, I can assure you. But this child – I did not want him growing up in that environment. Rosie’s was a much safer bet.”

“Safer,” Lucifer scoffed. “He would have been safer with me. I am the king of Hell. I am the first and original Sin. Who would have dared hurt him under my roof?” 

His son. Lucifer’s mouth turned bitter as he thought of everything he had missed, everything Alastor had stolen from him – those first blissful moments of birth, his first cries, his first steps, his first words. All those years he would never be able to experience. “How could you do this to me?” He asked, his voice half-broken.

“Dio, to the kitchen.” Alastor ordered.

“But–” 

“Now.”

Grumbling, the boy marched away, reminding Lucifer of the way Charlie used to stomp off whenever it was time for bed.

Char-char! It’s getting way too late! 

Da-aad! 

She’d bat those adorable, huge eyes of hers and trick him into staying up just five more minutes, Dad, please! I’ll be super, super good! 

He softened, the deep, protective part of himself stirring for the second time in his life. There was no mistaking it. This was his son. 

And he didn’t know him, but he would die for him. 

Alastor watched him carefully, the stiff set of his shoulders relaxing just a touch when he saw the rage ebbing from Lucifer’s face.

“I’m…sorry,” Alastor said. 

Lucifer gaped. Alastor…apologizing? That was the second most surprising thing he had ever done – the first being giving birth to Lucifer’s kid, of course. 

“You – what? Sorry?” He repeated dumbly. 

“Yes,” Alastor repeated stiffly, as if it was causing him great pain to acknowledge it. “I didn’t want to keep him from you, but I didn’t see any other way. I didn’t know how you would react, and I believed it was safest to wait until he was old enough to defend himself. He means…” 

Alastor trailed off, and Lucifer placed his hand over his and squeezed. “I understand,” he sighed, because he did. Being a parent made you crazy. It made you scared. People did stupid things when they were scared.

The two of them sat in silence for a moment. It wasn’t forgiveness – the hurt ran too deep for that – but it felt like the start of something else. Something new. 

Finally, Alastor stirred. He pulled something out of his coat and placed it in Lucifer’s palm. “His favorite toy.” 

It was a toy duck. 

And suddenly, Lucifer knew everything was going to be just fine.

[1tsjusty0u]

iyomiel wanted to bring sissel with him. during tje wjhole revenge plot he had sissel with him. he was in that bag the entire time. henwould be brought alone the whole trip ghe whole time. his best friend. in that bag. he was there the whole time. he was there. he wouldve brougjt that suticase everywhwrrw because his friend was in there

[jiangwanyinscatmom]

Already talked to my friends about this and it went well, but if anyone else may be interested I will definitely get it started since It does seem fun.

Out of sheer petty maybe I will write a canon divergence where the core transfer does fail and just ends up back to WWX and JC does end up dying but everything about the Sunshot campaign plays out similarly.

think I have an idea for it at any rate where it's JC having a tantrum and is basically relegated to offline duties with JYL since it's too dangerous for him to go up against cultivator soldiers but he ends up arguing with WWX and JYL who are telling him safety is first, but during that he pushes JYL down WWX yells at him to be more careful and respectful to her, he storms off and just as WWX has seen to JYL being okay one of the Yunmeng disciplines runs in and is like "Uhhh I'm panicking and don't know who I report to that our Sect Leader tried a sneak ambush on some Wens gathering supplies but he died and what do we do now?"