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#rainbow live spoilers

yjyt85r98r · 1 year

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It was cool how Rainbow Live made Rinne and June opposites in many ways

Rinne performed in a rainbow dress, while June performed in a black dress

June’s final jump involved the sun, and Rinne’s final jump involved the moon

In their songs, Rinne’s voice almost overpowers the instrumentals, while June’s voice is almost overpowered by the instrumentals

#it speaks #rinne #june amou #rainbow live spoilers #pretty rhythm spoilers #decided to make this not rebloggable bc of the vague spoilers. sorry

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letraspal · 1 year

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You can start a family who will always show you love…

I came back from work earlier (well, technically, I sneaked out, but that's another story) to find my favorite album playing softly in the background and my favorite people giggling on the carpet in front of our tree surrounded by a mess of toys. Simon is doing a funny voice for the wood horse and our kid finds his father’s quip very amusing.

Henry is in that lovely age - that I wish we could freeze for a while longer - where he thinks Simon and I are the coolest people alive. Especially Simon, he's always so awestruck with his father, and Simon... Simon is all heart-eyes for him.

"Looks like you two are having fun, can I join you?" I say and they immediately jump on me. Henry hugs my leg and Simon wraps his arm around us both.

I'm home.

COC 2022, DAY 8: LYRICS @carryon-countdown

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wyrdle · 1 year

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AU idea: Living machine

Post game spoilers: Gist of it is the kids getting messed up more and Clavell stepping up more haha.

I’ve been thinking about how the crystals themselves in Area Zero seem like a living thing, or if not, are being manipulated by something. Personally don’t like to remove the Professors’ autonomy/decision to do bad things (As in I don’t think it manipulated their minds), but the hints of a Disk Creature etc. got me thinking that the time machine itself has some level of self preservation that isn’t coded. Basically: I think it’d be fun if the latter protection protocols were it protecting itself.

I think it’s either:

A) The protection protocol is purely Prof’s safeguards that the AI itself didn’t notice in the code.

B) The “time machine” is really a portal on a Pokemon’s back that’s forced open by the Prof’s tech.

C) The “time machine” was built as a mimic of the above creature in the illustration, eventually gaining sentience via the crystals.

Anyway, after the Paradise protection protocol kicks in, and the tera crystals start taking over the AI professors, instead of the Miraidon battle, the crystals begin growing all over the ground. Horrifically, the children are trapped with it all, frozen into place in a crystal encasing. Since there’s also that running theory of people’s imaginations being the source of the Paradox pokemon, perhaps these crystalised kids’ imaginations/dreams are being fed from, and that this is how past researchers disappeared.... slowly digested into the crystals we see.

Fast forward a bit, the teaching staff get concerned about the absences of these four, with Director Clavell eventually having Jacq trace their pokedex/roto phones. Cue him dashing into Area Zero, pinging Geeta to get there as quickly as possible with reinforcements (this is assuming that no one else besides him and potentially Jacq are aware of Area Zero’s secrets within the school.)

Picking up from some others’ AUs, I like the thought that Clavell had actually visited the labs to talk sense to the Profs over Arven’s situation, but got fooled by the AIs into thinking things were fine. More motivated now, he travels all the way to the final lab, shocked to find how quiet it is (pokemon fleeing the crystalisation), eventually coming upon a terrifying crystal/metal version of the professor... as well as his students frozen in the crystals around him with expressions of fear.

I thiiiiink from here, it’s Director Clavell attempting to reason with the time machine that the children don’t deserve this. Especially since taking over the AI, the creature understands a whole lot more about the situation with the profs, arven, etc. So much so that Clavell manages to guilt it into releasing the kids, as well as promising to not release anymore future pokemon. AI prof however, is to remain its vessel. (I gotta draw this image in my head eventually, just think the crystalised profs and their evil robo eyes would look so cool.)

So Clavell manages to get the kids out and pays a whole lot more attention to their wellbeing etc. (Dad Clavell vibes lol). Area Zero is very much left alone after that.

TLDR: I kind of just want to see the profs turn into scary crystal monsters, see the kids get frozen, and have the director look on in horror dfklgsg. All ends well eventually though!

#pokemon scarlet violet #pokemon scarlet violet spoilers #director clavell #professor turo #professor sada #au #living machine au #lol the brainrot #there are lots unexplained imoi #doesnt make the story bad or anything #im just left wishing there was more #or that things don't end so sunshine and rainbows so quickly #likeeeee the academy was funding all of this #were the profs even allowed there???#very curious

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carry-on-my-wayward-butt · 8 months

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What are your feelings about Astarion that would oceangate the rose-quartz-is-irredeemably-evil type girlies???

vampire hypnotism praise kink blood play cnc for starters i guess? tbh im not really into wubbified hashtag-damaged astarion who just wants to be wuvd cuz im still in act 2 and im very into his 'selfless kindness and helping strangers for no reward? fucking gross. dipshit.' vibe and i think he'd use tav as a sleeve before they even left the goblin camp <3

#''but you dont understand him!'' i do. i just dont care.#yeah i read spoilers i know his whole plot line he's a great character i just dont want that i want the mask lmao #hes fake hes numbers inside my big rainbow box and i want him to discard me like a tissue i'm not hurting his feelings #thanks to being 30 i no longer feel shame or the desire for universal approval from tumblr dot gov #cuz when you live past 29 you get a permanent buff called [Do You Pay My Bills?]#op #anonymous #ask

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cacophony-questing · 2 months

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🎼 https://youtu.be/nT-_vGHm_n0?si=rJNaKAdTq7IAwZh_

[This ask has been deleted.]

Okay, whoever sent that last music ask... please don't spread that particular song around rotomblr. I think there are some people on this site that song might really hurt, and I'm honestly kind of suspicious about why you sent this to me, anon.

But, just in case you genuinely wanted me to rate that song, I will, because, well, it is quite a song.

The various stages of the song's progression, the way it's kind of fragmented but somehow still works, the tempo changes... this song shows exactly what's happening with its two singers in a poetic and heartbreaking way. They are singing their hearts out with lyrics that seem abstract but are actually more literal than you'd think, and directing those words at each other like musical weapons. Even without the context of what's going on here, you can feel the aggression and sadness beneath the talk of love and miracles on the surface. And I do have the context, which. Well, I'm not going to get into it. Let's just say that's classified.

The Rating:

Is it objectively a good song? Dist yeah, 10/10.

Does it evoke the emotions it's going for? 10/10 yes.

Would I listen regularly? 3/10. No. Maybe when I need to cry or deal with my emotions, but usually I need be functional, not crying. Also it's honestly too long for me to focus on unless I'm in the mood.

#pokeblogging #rotomblr #pretty rhythm rainbow live spoilers #//the song is spoilers that is #//the post itself is implied spoilers at most

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luveline · 2 years

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𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐫? | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary steve finds out that falling in love can be really, really easy. you find out what it’s like when somebody wants to take care of you [10.5k]

warnings fem!reader, fluff, mutual pining, getting together, dustins next-door neighbour!reader, sick fic, hurt/comfort, reader is implied to weigh more than nancy, you’re upset one time and steve goes overboard, small s4 spoilers no major plot details, post s3 pre s4, feat. the lunch club, karaoke, rollerblading, sunbathing

𓆩❤︎𓆪

A vast green jungle, so damp the forest floor bathes your ankles in rainwater runoff. The air is thick with humidity and smells green. Earthy, the sweet scent of petrichor tickles your nose, and-

A shadow distends over the yellow pages of your paperback, dark, eating up the image of the amazon and replacing it with reality – a normal summer's day in Hawkins.

Steve Harrington stands in front of you, his body blocking the sun and its warm glow. The light throws a halo around his head and turns the ends of his brown hair golden.

"Watcha reading?" he asks in lieu of ‘hello’.

"Ever read Journey to the Center of the Earth?" you ask him, leaning towards him invitingly.

You love to mess with him like this, watch his cheeks slowly pink as you bend towards your knees with a demure smile playing on your lips.

"Yeah, I did. In middle school," he says, trying his best to play it cool, hands pushing deep into the pockets of his pants.

"Well, it's nothing like that."

The grin he gets when he realises you're messing with him is adorable. He chuckles warmly and pulls a hand through his hair, looking down at the ground and then up at you again with a bashful pinch to his thick eyebrows.

"You're looking for Dustin?" you ask. You haven't seen your young neighbour since this morning. "He ran off earlier with his huge radio thing."

Steve rolls his eyes. "Typical. I paid him fifteen dollars," he says, his frustration clear, "fifteen dollars, Y/N, to fix my Walkman like three weeks ago. Every time I come by he's out. Little shit probably hasn't even looked at it."

You like Steve. He's a great looking guy who's more than nice when he sees you even though you're always pushing his buttons, and his poorly hidden fondness for Dustin is something you find heart-squeezingly attractive. You don't think twice about your next move.

You stand up from your lounger and have to shield your eyes from the sun, tucking your book under your naked arm. "If you want… I have a cassette player I'm not using. I got a Walkman for my birthday." You don't give him an opportunity to say no as you start for the front door.

"Are you sure?" Steve asks. You hold the door open for him, standing at the threshold with a grin.

"Positive. It's collecting dust, at this point."

"I mean, sure, if that's cool. Just until Dustin gets his act together," he says, pushing past you. His hand brushes your hip.

"That's cool," you confirm, walking behind him through your open kitchen and living room. "It's on the left."

Steve pushes into your bedroom. The window's open, breezing around the smell of fresh linens and the hydrangeas in the planter on your sill, shifting the gauzy white curtains.

The suncatcher hanging from the window sprays rainbow kisses over your walls and posters, your laundry basket full of summer dresses and discarded night shirts. The carpet is freshly vacuumed and plush underfoot as you beeline for your desk. Steve hovers by the door before leaning his weight against your bookshelf, eyes taking it in curiously.

"Cyndi Lauper," Steve says, eyes on a big poster of said singer with her iconic orange hair and hat. You raise your eyebrows at him, pleased, and he shrugs. "She's famous."

"You like her?"

"Nah," he says. "But I'll listen to anything. Except Depeche Mode; sharing a player with Robin all summer has sailed that boat."

"Yeah?" you ask, kneeling down in front of your desk to dig through the cabinet underneath. You frown, up to your elbow in bric a brac and forgotten trinkets. "It's in here somewhere."

"Yeah. I mean, maybe not anything. I don't think I have the palate for some of those rock and roll bands. Dustin made me listen to Black Scabbard in the car last week and…"

"Black Sabbath," you correct lightly, pulling out of your cupboard with a relieved huff.

"Right," he says.

You look over your shoulder to find him perusing your bookshelf, his hand running lightly over the shiny glass paper weight you use as a book end. He teases the spine of a hardback book curiously but must feel your gaze, turning to you with a sheepish smile.

"Do you like to read?" you ask.

Steve wrings his hands held at his hip. "Sure, I don't mind it. Bigger fan of movies."

"Right, Family Video must get pretty distracting," you say, walking towards him on light footing to offer the dinged-up cassette player. "She's well loved but she works, I swear."

He takes it from you, fingers brushing the backs of yours. "Thank you."

You shift from one foot to the other — because oh my god there's a boy in my room — before smiling with teeth. You stop. "You're welcome. Want a drink?"

"Uh…"

"I've got pink lemonade."

"Oh, then definitely."

You lead him into the kitchen and install him at the kitchen table with two empty glasses. The carafe of lemonade is beautifully cold from the refrigerator with slices of lemon and strawberry bouncing around the top as you pour it. The condensation wets your fingers.

Steve looks handsome and maybe slightly silly behind your homely oak table, all clean cut and well dressed. You feel bare beside him in your tank top and flowy midi skirt, too much skin.

"Are you hungry? I make a mean BLT," you say, bringing your feet up onto the chair, knees digging into the table.

"I'm good, thanks," he says.

"Are you having a good time of it at FV? They denied my application, but that's 'cos Keith has a vendetta against me for wiping out his score on the Palace's Tempest."

"You're a Tempest girl?"

"Everybody plays Tempest," you say.

Steve gives you a look. "Nerds play Tempest."

"Fine, every nerd plays Tempest," you allow, rolling your eyes. "Lemme guess, you're a Centipede guy. No, worse! You play Pac-Man. I can tell."

His silence is enough to make you giggle in triumph, elated to have sussed him out so quickly.

"How did you know that?" he asks finally.

"You called Black Sabbath 'Black Scabbard'. You're not a nerd."

"I could be."

"But you're not."

You share a steady look over the table. His eyes are bright with mirth, a sleek brown like fresh brewed coffee. You love the shape of them, deepest with the round under eye blanketed in straight black lashes. A red polo stretches across his chest. You find your eyes drawn down the length of his arm to his hand where he's drawing circles around the rim of his glass. He takes it into his hand and you watch his wrist bend, his arm flex as he brings the cup to his lips and a drop of condensation drips onto the table mat.

"I don't look the type?" he asks after a rough swallow. He sounds almost incensed.

"No, of course you don't. King Steve," you croon.

He crosses his arms across his chest and leans back, looking you up and down showfully. "Neither do you."

He's all charming smiles as he raises his chin and shakes his head, lips stretched up in an open-mouthed smile.

"Tempest," he mutters in bemusement.

You burst into laughter, quick to defend yourself when there's a pounding knock at the door. You're still laughing as you stand, calling to Steve as you walk to the door, "Tempest isn't even that nerdy! It's the Dragon's Lair dorks you need to watch out for. Oh, hi baby. What's wrong?"

"You haven't seen Steve, have you? His cars outside," Dustin announces, standing under the porch with his wild curls stuffed under a hat, his pulley cart ditched halfway between your yard and his.

"He's in the kitchen. You want some lemonade? You look frazzled," you offer, brushing your hand over his sunburned shoulder lightly as he scoots right past you.

"Thanks, Y/N." Dustin strides into the kitchen with purpose, glaring at Steve pretty heavily as he takes your seat at the table. "Why are you here?"

"Fucking charming. I came to see you, Henderson, but you're never home. Too busy finding secluded knolls to radio your girlfriend and play karaoke."

"Dick," Dustin says, though he defrosts as you fill a glass for him.

"What do you want?" Steve asks him.

"Why do you assume I want something?"

"Don’t be coy, you're not Madonna. It's tacky."

"Dick," Dustin says again, glaring.

"Dustin, do you want something to eat? You shouldn't go out in the sun all day by yourself, you know? What if you get heat stroke?" you ask.

Steve gives you a strange look like he's puzzled with you. You smile back at him, hand coming down on the back of Dustin's chair easily.

"Steve, I need a ride to Mike's," Dustin says, completely ignoring you.

Steve kicks him under the table. "Manners."

"Can I please have a ride-"

"To her, dipshit. Jeez, what's wrong with you? She asked if you're hungry."

Dustin beams at you innocently, soft cheeks rounding. "No thank you Y/N you're a godsend and I appreciate you very much," he says all in a rush, turning back to Steve, the act entirely dropped. "Now can we go?"

"Christ, fine. I'm gonna get you one of those rewards cards for being a shithead. This incident would be a double stamp, by the way."

"Uh-huh," Dustin says.

The younger teen chugs his glass of lemonade and spins off, calling a thank you over his shoulder. Steve gets up to follow him, your old cassette player held carefully in his hands.

"I'm sorry about him."

"Don't be. I've known him his entire life. He's in a phase," you inform him with a small grin, shrugging as if to say, what you gonna do?

"Long phase. Thank you. For the player and the lemonade."

"You're welcome," you say warmly, walking him to the door.

Dustin's already in the passenger seat, having taken his pulley cart back inside. He makes a hurry up motion from behind his window and Steve mutters expletives to himself, giving you one last smile before he trudges off.

The two boys wave at you through the windshield. You wave back.

When Steve's car has winked from view you take your lemonade and paperback outside again to lie under what's left of the sun. You try your best to fall back into the jungle and conjure its sights and sounds, only you keep finding your thoughts wrapped up around a certain boy's laugh and the face he makes as he does, that startled grin, a fist half raised to his mouth.

"Y/N!" A familiar teen voice accompanied by battering knocking at your front door.

You pull it open, still in your pajamas, hair a mess. His knocking had woken you up. You'd had about ten seconds to check you hadn't drooled too violently in your sleep before he was calling your name, and so you hadn't bothered getting dressed.

You wish you had. Dustin stood at the door with Steve Harrington behind him, a happy smile on both their faces.

You try not to flinch as you throw an arm across your chest subconsciously. "Hi?" you ask. "Is everything okay?"

Dustin's dressed for the beautiful weather in shorts and a shirt with sleeves so short it may as well be a tank top, a hat perched familiarly over his cute curls. Steve is dressed in a tormenting pair of jeans paired with a denim jacket. Double denim. He looks hot, physically and figuratively.

"Do you wanna come skating?" Dustin asks urgently.

You blink at him, pulling the edges of your strappy vest down to cover your navel, plaid bottoms low on your hips – you're a mess.

"Skating? I don't have one."

"A skateboard?" Dustin asks, shrugging. "Bring your rollerblades."

You err at the door, leaning your weight against it as you think. "When?"

"Now!" he says.

"I don't want to hold you up," you say, aimed more towards Steve than Dustin.

Steve smiles, hooking cheeks pink with the heat, and is about to talk when Dustin says, "He made me come ask you, he's fine to wait."

You bite back a smirk at Steve's deer-in-the-headlights expression and nod happily. "Alright. Twenty minutes and I'll be ready. If that's okay?"

"Totally," Steve says.

You close the door most of the way and catch a look over his shoulder, finding his pretty friend Robin in one seat and a gaggle of Dustin's friends in the back.

You hear a sharp thwarping sound as you spin away followed by a "What the fuck, dude?" from Dustin and hope that he hasn't tripped over one of your flower pots. You get ready and spend at least ten minutes worrying after your appearance in the mirror before grabbing the skates and jetting into the kitchen. You gather as many impromptu snacks you can find and shove them into a grocery bag, struggling to lock the door behind you in want of a free hand.

Steve jumps out of the driver's side to open the side door for you. You smile gratefully and dump the snacks and your skates in the footwell before climbing in, an empty seat between you and Dustin’s redheaded friend.

You're saved from the awkwardness of seeing people you've met but don't quite know by their ongoing debate, something about which Bruce Springsteen song is best.

“It’s obviously Dancing in the Dark. I don’t really know why we’re still talking about this,” Robin says from the passenger seat.

“You’re just saying that because it’s his most popular,” the girl next to you says.

“Things are popular for a reason.” Robin shrugs.

“Yeah, Max. Plus, popular or not, it’s his best.”

Max scrunches up her entire face. “Better than I’m on Fire?”

There’s a long pause where each child deliberates. Dustin and Mike dissolve into fierce looks.

“Nobodies talking about Born in the USA,” Steve says into the quiet, eyes on the road but head tilted back.

“Shut up, Steve,” Mike says, looking as exhausted as he usually does when you’ve seen him coming in and out of Dustin’s. Though it's been a while, he hasn't changed. Perpetually done with people's shit.

“Disrespectful,” Steve murmurs. His eyes flash to the rear view, catching you red-handed as you stare at him. “What do you think?”

“About what?”

“About Springsteen."

You consider him, his smile, his gaggle of cruel children. “I like Born in the USA,” you say nonchalantly.

“That’s two points,” Steve says triumphantly.

The skatepark is pretty busy because of the good weather. You and Steve end up unpacking your snacks onto a blanket Robin lays out whilst the boys go look for their friend Lucas, who's supposedly already here.

Max doesn't seem pleased with this revelation, sitting down heavily by Steve's picnic basket. Steve offers her a PB&J from the basket and a cold caprisun and she perks up, but not a lot. You want to spend time with Steve, you're not disillusioned into thinking you're anything but a flower under his attention, blooming and wanting, but Max's sad eyes get the better of you.

Too late for introductions, you dive straight in. “What’s in the Walkman?” you ask, nodding at the player sticking out of her jacket pocket, the foam padded headphones around her neck.

“Wild Things Run Fast, Joni Mitchell.” It sounds like a question.

You’ve struck gold immediately. “I love Joni Mitchell! Have you heard her new stuff?”

Max seems alarmed and happy at once, red messy braids swaying as she lifts her chin. “I mean, only what they’ve played on the radio.”

“Her album came out this October, Dog Eat Dog? I have the cassette if you wanna borrow it. It’s amazing.”

“Really?” she asks. She’s peeling the crusts off of her sandwich, one side at a time, dropping them into the small pile of discarded Saran Wrap.

“For sure. You’ve heard Shiny Toys?” Max nods. “It’s all as good as that one. Seriously.”

“Awesome,” she says, taking a huge bite of her sandwhich.

You realise you might’ve come on a little strong and try to backtrack into cool territory again, hand brushing Steve’s ankles as you lean away from the poor girl, smiling sheepishly.

“My mom loves Joni Mitchell,” Robin says.

“Robin," Steve chides lightly.

“What?”

You and Steve share a look that’s so familiar it gives you pins and needles in your hands, something small between the two of you clicking into place. Or at least that’s how you feel.

Max has almost finished her sandwich by the time Mike returns. “Are you ready?” he asks her.

She clambers onto her feet and grabs her skateboard from behind Steve. The two walk away, a distance from Dustin and Lucas, who both seem to have acquired a pair of skates each. Dustin in knee pads and a helmet, Lucas without.

“Why would you say Max listens to mom music?” Steve asks incredulously once they’re out of hearing distance.

Robin shakes her head, similarly incensed. “I didn’t say that.”

“There were so many other things you could’ve said, Robs.” He sounds less mad and more pitying.

"I didn't say that! I said my mom listens to her. She does!"

"Don't take offense. Robin got dropped as a baby," Steve says to you offhandedly.

You know the best course of action here and you take it – in what world would you make an enemy of a boy you might like's best friend who is a girl? Not this one. Plus, Robin seems super nice.

"I'm not offended. My mom loves Joni too," you say cheerily, smiling at Robin, unabashed.

You're slightly disappointed when she looks away towards her lap, until she says, "Projections a bad look on you, Harrington. He has, like, a flat head," she tells you.

Steve starts yammering loudly. "Shut up! My head's perfect, you're being ridiculous. Perfectly round and ordinary, thank you."

"Yeah, I'd definitely say your head's perfectly round," you agree through giggles, reaching for your skates.

You have a funny feeling that a silent conversation is happening as you slide off your shoes and into the skates, lacing up tight, but when you look up Robin's sifting through the accumulated snack pile and Steve's looking the opposite way, towards the kids.

You clear your throat. "Are you guys gonna skate too?"

"Steve is."

"I didn't bring-"

"He's borrowing mine. It's too hot, I can't skate. And I don't have the coordination, anyway."

Steve looks at Robin, at you, Robin again. "I'm not good," he says. You take it for yes.

Steve gets on his skates and straps out of his denim jacket, exposing the distracting lengths of his arms. He's better than he gives himself credit for, steady on his feet. He knows how to stop and start, and you smile to yourself when the two of you skate off towards Dustin and Lucas, following their journey around the skate park, careful to stay clear of the bowls and rails.

"You're good! You said you weren't good!" you say to him.

"I'm not good."

"You're doing great!"

He smiles gratefully, the expression at home over his warm features. He's not really a very smiley guy, you've realised, his lips often pulled up into a grimace or a cruel approximation of a smile, sarcastic. It suits him. You go to say as much, eyes eating up every little detail of him.

"Hey Steve? You should-" and your foot pops over a rock.

You shriek and throw your arm out towards him. Steve catches you with impressive strength and speed as your leg buckles. You've quickly righted yourself and he brings you to a slow but not quite stop. Stopping on skates is easier said than done, especially old skates with the front guards already worn down.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

You've taken his hand without thinking, the two of you widening apart and then coming together like the eclipse of a blinking eye.

You pull your hand away apologetically, the warmth of his palm lingering.

"I'm sorry!" you say.

"Don’t be. Last thing I wanna do is have you crack your head open on my watch. I’m glad you didn’t wipe out."

"Thanks to you."

You slow and stop. Steve does the same, the two of you clumsy for different reasons. He watches as you calm your racing heart.

"Shit, I really thought I was gonna fall. You're a lifesaver." You stare straight into his eyes, their sunlight honey brown, smiling with complete genuineness. He's more than pretty. "Thank you."

Steve swallows and his smile is warmer, somehow, impossibly warmer. Maybe it's the beautiful weather, maybe it's the beautiful boy. You suddenly feel very, very hot.

"I think I might need to sit down."

"Oh, shit," he says, reaching for your arm. You're about to correct his touching – you're not dizzy, just a little nauseous. Only, his hand. His fingers clasped around your elbow, his face fiercely protective.

You let him guide you back to the picnic blanket. One hand around your elbow, the other behind your sun-warmed back, and somehow his hand is the hottest spot.

"Are you okay?" Robin asks, shielding her eyes from the sun. The book in her lap slips shut as she straightens.

"She's okay," Steve says. “Too hot. Budge up."

Robin moves over on the blanket and throws the basket open. Steve reaches in for a capri sun and passes it to you. It's lukewarm, though the day is so hot it's a relief to drink it.

"Steve's really good," you tell her after a noisy suck, the orange plastic straw stabbing your lip. You frown down at it.

"I saw you guys whizzing around. Public menaces, both of you," Robin says, though she smiles as she does. You know she's joking. You don't want to think it in case it's not true, but you feel like maybe she wants to be friends.

"We prefer speed demons," Steve says easily, still kneeling at your side.

"They should lock you up."

You snort and almost squirt juice from your nose, spluttering and coughing as you bend at the waist. Steve pats your back less than gently and then more so as you move your hand towards him.

"I'm okay," you cough, embarrassed at how you must look hacking your lungs out.

Steve's hand, again on your back, rubs a stern line. "Chill out, Y/N. You can't die before dinner."

"We're getting McDonald's," Robin supplies.

"Don't tell the kids," he says, smirking.

He's still rubbing your back. You suspect you might agree to anything while he's this close.

"You sound like such a dad when you say shit like that."

Steve scowls at Robin's words and pulls his hands away, crossing them over his chest. "Don't say that. Babysitter is more than enough, don't you think? Y/N?"

"An older brother?" you suggest to Robin's extreme delight.

She laughs. Steve scrubs at his face with both hands until his eyes are red.

Robin's sick and Steve's going crazy by himself, manning the desk at FV with almost no energy and even less enthusiasm. A week since he'd held your hand and he can't seem to stop thinking about it.

He catches himself staring at his own empty palm and clenches his fist, bringing his eyes back to the door in case someone walks in and he has to pull off the headphones of your borrowed cassette player.

Steve had discovered a forgotten cassette inside, listening to it out of curiosity the night you'd given him the player and then every night since then. He felt guilty about keeping it without saying anything but he was only borrowing it, he reasoned. He'd give it back when Dustin fixed his skipping Walkman.

The tape was Van Halen II. And Steve's not stupid, he knows who Van Halen are, but he's never sat and listened through any of their full albums. Now he can't stop, constantly rewinding back to the same song, over and over.

He does so now, fingers clumsy and too big over small buttons until the first line kicks in, powerful and high energy like a burst of fresh air.

Have you seen her?

So fine and pretty.

He grins as it plays, thinking of you instantly. Your smile and your legs, the wind whipping at your skirt and exposing stretches of skin he can't stop remembering. You on your rollerblades, the second time after an emergency PB&J, skating in front of him without looking behind you.

"Don't let me crash into someone, okay?" you'd asked, swaying from one side to the other as you shifted your weight.

"It'll be too late to stop you if I see someone! Turn around!" he'd demanded, though his fondness had peeked through.

You'd thrown your hands out. "You'll have to steer me!"

And so he'd grabbed your hands and you'd laughed like a fool as you skated together, squealing through close calls and bumpy ground.

He thinks of your hands in his, their weight and size, the magnetic pulse he'd felt between them, how happy you'd seemed to be with him.

He was harbouring a crush on you. Too old to deny what it feels like to want a pretty girl, Steve wonders if this is entirely a good idea – letting himself like you when the possibility of rejection feels high. You are, as Dustin had promised him, out of Steve's league. "Don't try your luck, dude."

Steve thought for a second that his thinking about you had summoned your image, your easy walk and the elegant way about your hands and how you held them, in a blue dress with matching strappy mary-jane's, white socks with the ruffle tops. He blinks. No way he could think up anything as pretty.

You push open the door and grin from across the room, a large tupperware of some type in your hands. His eyes move up from your fingers where they clutch plastic, your wrist, your arms. The puff sleeves of your dress are short and cuffed, similar to the matching ruched neckline that shows enough to make him swallow. A necklace lays in the valley of your chest, a silver chain with a blue flower at the end, small but thick. Five round petals, a cutout missing that shows a circle of your chest beneath.

"Steve," you say, like you'd been in mid conversation. "Please tell me you have a sweet tooth."

He pulls the headphones from his head and leaves them around his neck, fixing his hair as casually as he can when he says, "Sure, I like candy."

You set your container down on the counter and crack it open, the rich, buttery smells of its contents quickly filling the room.

"I made penuche for Dustin's mom's birthday, but I made so-" you drag the word out, lips a gloss-sticky 'o', "much of it. I can't eat it all. And she said I wasn't allowed to give it to Dustin 'cos he keeps using the f-word."

His laugh is startled but genuine. "Not the f-word."

The fudge is a light brown, almost pink in the neon tinted lighting. It smells divine, and he's saved from an internal debate about what's cool when you push the tub towards him. "Do you like fudge?" you ask him.

He takes one and you take one, and he tries not to look at you as you eat, or when you scratch gloss and a crumb from the corner of your mouth.

"You’re a modern Martha Stewart," Steve says happily.

"Only on special occasions. Where's Robin?" you ask, elbows braced on the counter and leaning in.

"Sick. Apparently."

"Apparently," you repeat, grinning. "What, she didn't look sick?"

"She talked to me on the phone. She sounded sick," he concedes. "Good things it's Thursday."

You look around the completely empty store. "This is what it usually looks like on a Thursday?"

"It's Hawkins. Half the people here get their VHS from the library, the others drive out to Blockbuster. We get about as much foot traffic as an ice cream stand in September."

"It's 'cos you take too long to get the new ones,'' you say. "No offense."

"The tone of someone personally victimised by a Family Video wait list."

"You got me. I've been trying to get the Breakfast Club for two months!" you complain, scratching your chest lazily.

Steve crosses his arms over his chest until his hands are hidden, rolling his eyes. "Oh, so this is bribery penuche."

You blink at him and then your lips part in horror, pretty eyes widening. "No!"

"It totally is. You're trying to butter me up," he says, suave tone disrupted by the need to giggle at his own pun. "Y/N, how could you? Here I thought we were starting to be friends and you're using me for my video store?"

His mock horror puts you eat ease when you realise he's joking. "I really wanna see that movie," you say dejectedly. You reach for another piece of fudge and bite it in half, your chewing morose. "It feels like everybody saw it at the movies but me."

"Of course they did. Why didn't you?"

You glare at him. "I was busy!"

"For the month it was in theatres?"

"Yes!" you defend yourself from his teasing. "I have things to do!"

"Like what?"

"Like school!"

"Everybody has school."

"You're picking on me after I brought you candy. This is so cruel." You don't sound like you've suffered any cruelty. Steve might say you're really enjoying yourself.

"Sorry, sweetheart."

You glare at his insincere pet name. "Whatever. Oh, hey, how's she treating you?" you ask, eyes on the cassette player. "Steve, you have my Van Halen tape! Thank god, I thought I lost it."

"Right. Sorry, I meant to give it back," he lies.

You shrug your shoulders. "Keep it however long you want to. It's good, right? Which one's your favourite?"

He pulls the headphones out and rewinds back before setting the player in front of you. You raise your eyebrows at him but click play, and the audio starts abruptly, loud and mid quality.

Yes, it's love in the third degree.

You grin, head bobbing, eyes flitting to his with approval written all over your face. You don't seem to hesitate before you sing along under your breath, high pitched but quiet.

"Ooh, baby baby. Won't-cha turn your head my way?"

He feels a little enchanted by you, that same magnetism he'd felt between his hands, can't believe how pretty you are and how sweetly you move. You laugh at yourself as you sing the next line, an intense, almost theatrical look upon your face. Like you're swooning.

"Ooh, baby baby. Ah come on! Take a chance, you're old enough to-" You flare your eyes at him and nod, mouth open encouragingly.

He won't join in, no matter how electric he finds you. You roll your eyes and your shoulders roll in a half-dance as you hum along to the chorus.

Dance the night away.

"You're no fun, Steve," you complain, giggling.

"You're enough for the two of us."

You peer over the counter, still moving with the music as you ask, "What were you doing? Before I came in?"

"Looking through the computer at what's late being returned. Riveting, extremely hard work."

"Do you get, like, secret intel on what new movies are coming in?"

"Sure we do. Wanna see?" he asks.

You creep around the counter and stand by his side. He scrolls through the system and translates acronyms for you. "This is the coming in," he says, drawing a line down a list of movie names. "These are what's being moved back to the headquarters."

"Headquarters," you repeat, leaning in to see the screen more clearly. You browse the new titles idly, slipping closer and closer to the computer.

"You'll burn your retinas."

"Invaders from Mars, Youngblood, Black Moon Rising," you list thoughtfully. You turn on your heel. "I don't know any of those. You got a chic-flicks section?"

You're really close. Steve looks at you, this close, this pretty, his hands itching to touch you. He leans in and your arms fall to your sides, the space between you growing ever smaller.

"We do," he says slowly, eye to eye, almost daring you to look at his mouth instead. He wants you to. He wants to look at yours.

You're steadfast, not impassive but certainly unreadable as you say, "Show me?"

Steve reaches for the mouse behind you like he was always intending to, hiding any smugness he feels when you exhale noticeably. You turn back around, his arm brushing over yours as he sorts through the tag system to show you "ROM-COM INCO".

"These are all the ones we have coming in. You know any of those?"

"Hannah and Her Sisters. I saw that one."

"Finally had some free time?" he asks wryly.

"Shut up, Steve."

"You know… I can keep the Breakfast Club for you. Next time it comes in."

The smile you give him is blinding. "Thanks, Steve."

"Yeah, no problem." He hopes the sudden increase in temperature is mutual.

Your backyard is a field of flowers. Maybe dramatic, but Steve's never seen so many, a heavy green spotted in chartreuse, vermillion, bright oranges and pink-white. You lay on a towel in the grass surrounded by them, the sun lighting you up, your skin glowing and perfect.

You're in black, spandex type shorts and a bikini top. Steve feels like a perv for looking, so he clears his throat. You don't budge.

He creeps closer. You're in headphones listening to your Walkman. He can hear the music from where he stands at your backdoor, so it must be loud. He stands over you and hopes his shadow will wake you up. When it still doesn't he gets concerned, kneeling down carefully with his knees digging into your towel.

"Y/N. Hey," he says.

Still nothing.

He pulls your headphones off gently, looking over your face in worry. You must be sleeping.

"Y/N, you shouldn't sleep out here. You'll get sun stroke," he says. He strokes your arm though he shouldn't. He can't help himself, his fingers pressing into the crook of your elbow.

You blink awake and then slam your eyes closed. Steve adjusts himself to block the sun from your face and you manage to pry your eyes open, confused.

"Hello."

"Hey," he says. He can't help the fondness that plays over his smile.

"Shit." Your eyes go wide and you cover your chest with your arm. "I'm naked."

"You're not naked," he says.

"I'm naked. Stop looking at me."

Steve turns away obligingly.

"Stop laughing at me, Harrington."

"Is there anything I'm allowed to do?" he asks, though he does stop laughing.

"I'm so embarrassed. I was sunbathing and I must've fallen asleep."

Steve lets his eyes stray to your naked thigh. He stares at your skin, follows a stretch mark upwards and then swiftly peels his gaze away. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be a total perv. I can go wait in my car."

"You're not a perv. I'm being a priss. Sorry. I know I'm not, like, a model and I wasn't expecting to have this much skin on show. I don't look like Nancy Wheeler."

You sound more nervous than Steve has ever heard you. Worse, you sound dejected, though you've tried for nonchalance. Steve stares at you until you raise your chin, your fingers pinching meanly at your thighs.

"You're messing with me," he says.

"What?" you ask, incredulous. "I'm not messing with you."

"You gotta know you're beautiful. That's, like, a stone cold fact. A hard truth. You're beautiful. Who cares if you don't look like Nance?"

You sigh, though it's not very believable when you're smiling so much. "She's really pretty."

"So are you."

"You know what I mean, Steve. She's… small."

"She's a small woman," he agrees. "That doesn't make her prettier than you."

"You're sure?" you ask quietly.

Steve means it a hundred percent when he says, "I'm sure."

The two of you sit there for a few seconds. He can hear your breathing and he's wondering if you can hear his.

"What are you doing here?" you ask.

Your hand is still held across your stomach but you're thankfully looking more relaxed. Steve meant what he said, you're beautiful, he couldn't care less that you're taller or that you weigh more than his ex. You're fucking pretty, and seeing you all laid out and sun kissed has made him kind of crazy.

"Steve?" you ask.

"Oh. I brought you The Breakfast Club. Just got it back in this morning," he rushes to say, grabbing the VHS tape from where he'd left it on the ground. The Family Video spine is glaringly ugly compared to you and your flowers.

"Woah, thank you!"

"You're welcome. It's under my name though, so don't keep it late. Can't disprespect the FV name. I'm going for employee of the month."

You giggle. "You are? Are you the top contender?"

"Nope."

You laugh some more, the sound delicate and sweet as spun sugar, in Steve's humble opinion.

"Not that my fellow employees try any harder, but Keith just picks himself every month for the free credits."

You rub your fingers across the front of the box. "I won't be late. I mean, I'll watch it today, I've been so excited to see it."

Steve stands up. "Sorry to disturb your idyllic sunbathing."

"Idyllic," you murmur, smiling. "You're good, Steve. Thank you for the movie."

"You're welcome. I'll see you later?" he asks, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans, slowly backing away.

"No," you say. He raises his eyebrows and you look sheepish but not shy when you continue, "Do you wanna stay? Watch the movie with me? I have stovetop popcorn and soda and everything."

"What about the great weather? You don't wanna waste it."

You force your hands between your thighs and hunch forward slightly. "I do wanna waste it. I mean, I've had enough for today, don't you think? I'm a half hour from heat stroke."

"You're looking pretty warm," he says. Anything to take you up on your offer without sounding too interested.

You're trying not to give Steve the side eye. Trying, but he's very attractive and very close, and he keeps making funny jokes. It's annoying how hot he is.

Steve has slouched back and his jeans have slowly edged down, exposing the flesh of his hip. Not that you've noticed, or anything.

You cram a big handful of popcorn into your mouth and flick your eyes back to the screen. You'd really wanted to see this movie but Steve keeps capturing your attention, again and again, over and over. You can't believe you'd asked him to stay and he had, can't believe he brought the VHS for you in the first place.

That's a dedicated employee right there.

You shuffle closer to him under the guise of sharing your popcorn. Your shoulders touch.

"Thanks," he says. His thigh hits your thigh as he takes a handful.

"Steve," you say softly.

"What?"

"I don't feel well. I think the sun killed me."

He throws his arm around the back of the couch and twists, careful not to upend the popcorn bowl as he looks over you searchingly. You've seen Steve play caretaker before, but being under his watch is different. He's almost a different person as he checks you over.

"You feel sick?" he asks. He holds his hand out between you, his knuckles at your eye level. "Can I?"

You tilt your head back and close your eyes. Steve presses the back of his hand to your forehead and pets down softly, feeling for your temperature.

"You're still really warm. Let's get you cooled down."

Steve springs up and knocks the bowl. You blink, slightly disoriented as he disappears into the kitchen, picking up spilled popcorn off of the couch and eating it with slow chews. Now you think of it, your arms hurt, too.

Steve returns and sits on the edge of the sofa, a bag of peas in his hand. "I raided your freezer. Lean your head back."

"I'm fine," you say, but tilt your head back anyways, gasping when the cold hits you.

"You might actually get heatstroke. Do you know how dangerous heat stroke is? You need to cool down. Where's the A/C?"

"It's on."

Steve feels along your cheek gingerly. "I can't believe you fell asleep outside. What's that about?" He pauses. "Are you sleeping okay?"

"I'm sleeping fine."

"Are you sure?"

His wrist turns and you feel the pad of his fingers rather than the back, the palm of his hand as he cups your face.

You peek through your lashes at him. His eyebrows are pinched and his bottom lip juts out in a concerned pout.

"You can tell me."

The way he says it – well, you imagine you could tell him anything. He sounds warm and worried. This close you can smell his cologne, something heavy with sage, a little bit of lilac hidden under unmistakable bergamot. It's all so comforting and the sun has loosened your tongue.

"Maybe not so much. It's… it's hot. You know? And…"

"What?" he murmurs. Your heart skips as his thumb rubs over your cheek.

You close your eyes like your confession might take form. "I'm kind of lonely, lately," it sounds like a question, "and it's- it keeps me up sometimes. I don't know, it sounds stupid when I say it out loud."

"It doesn't sound stupid."

"No?"

"No, I get it." He pulls away but doesn't move too far, his hand still holding the freezing peas to your forehead, the other brushing against your arm as he drops it in his lap. "These days Dustin doesn't leave me alone. I don't want him to, either. The same with Robs."

You let your head loll to the side. Steve doesn't look shy or scared to tell you, talking almost matter of fact. "But my parents were never home when I was in high school. They still aren't. I felt it more back then."

"Yeah. I don't know. I never see anybody. Besides Dustin," you say. "We have him in common."

"You see me."

"When I'm annoying you at work."

"You don't annoy me." He's stern though he abruptly turns into a conspirator whispering secrets. "Robin's fuse gets shorter with me everyday."

"How come?" you ask, co-conspirator.

"I can't stop watching the door."

You lift your head. Steve takes back his bag of peas and feels along your forehead, now cold enough to ache.

"Here, hold these to your chest. I'd do it for you, but…"

You take the peas and hide a terrible smile, heart racing between your ears. Your nausea has flipped completely into butterflies and they're rabid, knocking at your abdomen insistently.

You're trying to think of a way to make him say nice things again when there's a knock at the door.

"Dustin," you both say.

"Jinx, buy me a soda," Steve says.

You glare at him and he laughs all the way to the door.

"Why are you always here? Where's Y/N?"

"She's got heat stroke."

"I don't!" you call hoarsely.

"You sound like you do," Dustin says. "Can one of you give me a ride?"

"She has heat stroke."

You climb onto the back of the sofa to look down the hallway. Dustin stands at the front door with a huge piece of engineering in his arms that you don't understand, wires and ciricuits and things.

"Remeber when you used to bike everywhere? What happened to that?" Steve asks, sounding majorly pissed. You can't work out why he's so frustrated but it makes you laugh again.

The two boys turn to you with twin looks of confusion.

"I can't bike there, genius. This won't fit in the basket."

You laugh again, twice as loud.

"What's wrong with her?" Dustin asks, shaking his head.

"What don't you understand about heat stroke?

"Potential heat stroke," you interject.

"She fell asleep in the sun. I don't know how long she was out there her brain might be totally jellified, dude."

"You should take her to the hospital."

You clamber onto aching limbs and walk until your behind Steve, reaching for his elbow automatically. "I'm fine, babe. What's your doohickey?"

Dustin smirks and pulls the weight closer to his chest. "Prototype."

"For what?"

"Top secret."

You giggle some more, wobbling with the force of it. Steve sighs and wraps his arm around your back, his hand under your arm to grip you at the ribs.

Dustin gets wide eyes like a looney tunes character. "What's going on here?"

"Nothing," Steve hisses. "Look, let me set Y/N up with the works and I'll drive you where you want to go, you brat."

Dustin drops his suspicion, having got what he wants. "I'll wait in the car. Feel better!"

"That's three stamps on the shithead card, shithead!" Steve calls after him. The two of you watch his retreating figure and then Steve is manhandling you (not too roughly) down the hallway and back onto the sofa.

"I'm not dying, Steve."

Steve puts your popcorn bowl in your lap and the frozen peas back on your chest. He fills your glass either the warming carafe on the coffee table and then bends down to talk to you, entirely too intense.

"Are you good?" he asks.

"Perfect. I don't even feel hot anymore."

He rolls his eyes. "Yeah, okay. Listen, I'm gonna go drop Dustin off, and then I'm gonna call you to make sure you're not dead."

"You don't have to do that, Steve," you say, moving down into the couch, a cushion falling over as you do. He straightens it out, cups your face in his hand so fast you think you've imagined it and then squints at you.

"Don't die of heat stroke."

He starts to walk away and you're startled. Unfairly, you don't want him to go, and you call, "Steve?"

"Yeah?"

"What about The Breakfast Club?"

He grins at you, a lazy, King Steve kind of smile. "I was always gonna leave that here. So you can come 'annoy' me at work when you return it." He pulls a hand through his hair and gives you a once over and then spins on his heel. "Make sure you answer when I call!"

You lose sight of him as he leaves, the couch backing too tall. He shuts the door kindly and you can just about hear the crunch of gravel as his car pulls away.

"He was definitely flirting with me," you say to yourself, pouring a sweet handful of popcorn into your mouth. You're smiling so wide it's hard to chew.

Dustin bursts into Family Video with his small entourage, Mike and Lucas, and an urgent look on his face. Steve quickly stops his facade of being busy when he clocks them.

"What? Need to borrow ten dollars?" he asks, rolling his eyes.

"Actually, it's about Y/N," Dustin says.

Steve stretches across the desk on his elbows.

"What about her?" he asks, suspecting a waste of time.

"She was crying her eyes out in her backyard last night."

Steve blinks, feeling a pit open up in his chest. "What? Why?"

"Well…" Dustin says. "I didn't ask."

Steve pictures your pretty face crinkled with tears, sitting on the paving stones outside your house. He wonders what would make you cry, sob, whatever it was. You'd confessed to being lonely though he sort of hopes that the feeling has ebbed now that he's calling you every day. At first, under the guise of checking up on you, but, I don't think I'm at risk of heat stroke anymore Steve. It's been a week and a half.

Better safe than sorry.

"Nancy said she saw her outside outside Bradley's Big Buy last night looking miserable," Mike adds, in one of his worst outfits, a mismatch of colours and long socks, a visor that Steve once tried to bribe Dustin to destroy on a hot day with his magnifying glass. The small burned spot perseveres at the caps edge.

Steve feels weirdly proud at their concern and better, their detective skills. The three of them look like they could solve crimes, a mystery gang. Lucas is the only one dressed well in Steve's opinion, though that might be because he's in similar fashion, a nice polo and blue jeans.

"You don't know what's wrong with her?" Lucas asks.

His pride wanes. "Oh, you guys are here for gossip?" he asks scathingly.

"No!"

"You're her boyfriend, right?"

"Not-" Steve swallows, "exactly."

Robin, who had been listening from her stool a few feet back, strides over and falls into place by his side, braced by her elbows.

"If Steve were her boyfriend, we'd know why she was crying," she says, earning a round of boyish chuckles.

Steve nods and then understands her meaning, feeling stupid for assuming Robin would say something that wasn't mean while at work. "Fuck off, I'm a good boyfriend."

Four sets of eyebrows raise.

"I am! I'm romantic."

"You smashed our trellis and dislodged a drain pipe," Mike says.

Steve pins the dark haired boy with a smarted look.

"Sorry, is that not romantic? Sneaking out to see a girl?"

"Sneaking in to a young woman's bedroom," Robin says dryly.

"Pervert style," Dustin agrees sagely.

"Jesus Christ." Steve turns away from his band of adopted heathens and takes the phone into his hand. "I'm gonna call her."

"And what? Tell her we were spying?" Dustin says.

Steve holds the cold plastic to his neck. "Were you?"

"Girls lie about their feelings, anyway. You're never gonna get a straight answer," Lucas says morosely. "Trust me."

He slams the phone down. "What am I supposed to do?"

They stand in a heavy silence. Steve can feel a headache clipping his heels, approaching fast, stress and a sharp worry for you. He really doesn't see why he can't call you and check in.

"Something nice?" Robin suggests, picking at her nails.

"Like what?" he asks. Though, as soon as he says it, he already has the beginnings of an idea. Whether its a good one or not is anyones guess.

Somebody knocks the door and all you can think is, oh god why me?

You're in a bad approximation of pajamas - your comfiest and yet your sloppiest, old and worn and unattractive. Fresh out of a stress-cry shower, you've only just managed to catch your breath.

It's like you told Steve, everything lately feels so lonely. You'd gone grocery shopping by yourself and had known without a doubt that you were moving unseen through the world. Something about deciding between TV dinners. Nobody knew where you were, what you were doing, or where you were going. The only people seeing you were the storegoers of Bradley's Big Buy and your disgruntled cashier. You doubt you'd made a good impression.

It was maybe a silly thing to feel overwhelmed by, but you felt it anyways. Sick with loneliness and then panic. A thousand what ifs had filled your head; you couldn't stop thinking, what if it's like this forever?

What if I feel this lonely forever?

You'd finished grocery shopping with a peculiar numbness weighing you down and then you'd gone home to cry in the garden, comforted and horrified by your flowers. They were pretty and you'd planted them and it didn't matter, you were still alone. A ladybug had crawled over the nearest planter and you'd watched it until you calmed down, knees crossed and elbows digging into your thighs, pins and needles in your hands.

Another insistent knock. You consider ignoring it and curling up into a ball. Something hooks you out of it. What if it's Steve?

If it's Steve, you're gonna feel very embarrassed about your appearance. You check your reflection in the sheen of a photo frame and sigh, rubbing your face with one hand as you open the door.

Steve stands a few feet away, leaning against the side of his car with a pair of shades slipping down his nose. He takes them off.

You're so happy to see him you forget your rumpled outfit.

"Hi," you say, half-shouting to cover the distance.

"Hey beautiful!" Steve shouts, properly, loud and unabashed.

The door digs into your tummy. You don't know what to say. His compliment flusters you from the get go.

"Hi," you say again, laughing under your breath.

"Hey."

"What are you doing here?"

"Somebody told me you weren't feeling well!"

You frown, thoughts racing, and suddenly summon the image of your nosey young neighbour. You take a step back instinctively and Steve must see it because his face goes stony.

"I'm sorry, I know you probably didn't want me to know. But- when I found out you were upset, I couldn't ignore that. You'll have to forgive me."

You try pushing the smile off your face with your hand and stand there scratching your top lip. "No. No, it's okay."

He raises his eyebrows and takes a few big steps towards your house. You step out onto the porch and he closes the space between you, holding his hands out. You take them and he envelopes you, warm hands pulling you along and up the path.

He walks backwards. "Don't let me crash into someone, okay?"

A memory. The two of you hand in hand, ground flashing under your skates.

"Okay," you say weakly.

He squeezes your hands and drops them, a foot from the car. "Stay," and he doesn't finish, turning away from you. He opens the passenger door, the door behind and then the trunk.

The smell is beautiful. A floral wave.

The sight is something else. A carpet of bunches, bell-shaped freesias and carnations, roses in darkest red, chrysanthemums, dahlias, tiny orchids and irises; gorgeous purple irises with white centred petals buffeted by frilly sweetpeas.

"They didn't want to give me the buckets but I told them I had a really pretty girl waiting for me, and if they suffocated in the heat then I was gonna drive right back and complain loudly." He stands by your side and nudges you. "Break out in tears."

"That's a lot of flowers," you mumble.

"Half the store. The other half's on standby."

"Standby?"

"I worried you might not have the space."

"I won't."

Your gaze flits over soft petals and light green stems, thorns and leaves and greenery, baby breath tucked in by plastic wrapping.

"Why did you do this?"

"You…" he laughs at himself. "Okay, so. The day you had heat stroke-"

"I didn't have heat stroke. I had heat exhaustion."

"Semantics. You were lying in the backyard. Just… sleeping. I was waiting for you to look up and see me, and I couldn't- I still can't get the image out of my head. You looked unreal."

You feel hot all over as he searches for words. He's smiling wide as he talks, like he can't believe how happy he is. It's infectious.

He shakes his head. "Anyway, I know you like flowers. Obviously. So."

"So you got me a florists?"

"Half."

You hug your torso. The idea that somebody would do this for you, that Steve would do this for you, is so alien you can't comprehend it.

"They're for me?" you whisper.

"For you. All of them."

You look at him, the flowers, him again, and start to laugh. You throw your hands up to your cheeks and giggle like a little kid.

"Why are you laughing?" he asks, an undeniable affection in his curiosity.

"Why would you do this for me?" you ask in a similar tone.

He purses his lips and shrugs. "You could've called me. I want you to know that."

You scrub your hot cheeks and shift from foot to foot. "I was being silly."

"It's not silly. It's not stupid. And even if it was, I still want you to call me. These are 'call me' flowers. Call me first."

You wrap your hand around the top of the door and lean in for a look at the sea of flowers. Pollen sticks sweet in your nose.

"Do you like them?"

The smallest hint of insecurity. You can't stop laughing, joy warping every word. "Yeah, I love them," you say over your shoulder, feeling as though you've become nothing but a vestibule of breathless wonder.

"I didn't know which one was your favourite."

All of them, you think. Not sure you could pick one, your eyes bump from bouquet to bouquet.

You try to blink them away but tears form quickly, lashes heavy with them as you stand up straight and wipe under your eyes with the back of your index finger.

"Thank you, Steve."

"You're welcome." Steve comes up behind you and takes your shoulder into his hand, thumb rubbing roughly over your shirt. "C'mon, don't cry. I got you all those flowers because I don't want you to cry, not to make it worse."

"They're really pretty," you say, strained, pushing the bottoms of your palms into your eyes to stop from sobbing. That would be dramatic, you argue with yourself, so dramatic, but this is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for you.

"Shit," he mutters.

You tense up as his hand moves across your back to grip your other shoulder and he hugs you to his chest, left hand stroking the length of your upper arm, encouraging your hands from your face.

"You're okay, baby," he says.

You sniffle as his right hand climbs your shoulder to cup your neck. He pulls your face to his mouth and presses a kiss into your temple, warm and tingling, firecrackers under the skin. You turn your face to look at him and he pulls back, his chin jutting down.

The shape of his lips lingers on your forehead, a burn. White hot.

Steve wipes the tear tracks from your face with the side of his hand.

"I know what'll cheer you up," he says.

You miss his touch as soon as he's gone. He leans over the passenger seat, the chair and its footwell both bursting with flowers, and turns on the radio. You watch him click to the cassette player. He turns the volume up high and then pulls out.

Slowly, the song builds into a zinging guitar.

"Oh my god."

"Have you seen her? So fine and so pretty," Steve sings with no hesitation. You're startled by his confidence.

"Fooled me with her style and ease," he continues, holding out his hand.

You take it, listening to him fight his way to the right pitch, his voice cracking.

"And I feel her from across the room-" He takes your second hand, gaze electric. "Yes, it's love in the third degree."

He tugs at your hand, nodding until you join in.

"Ooh, baby, baby," you sing weakly, searching for footing.

"Won't-cha turn your head my way?" he begs.

"Ooh, baby, baby," you both sing, Steve with more passion, pulling your arm one way and another in an awkward dance.

"Come on, take a chance, you're old enough to," and here's where you both go weak and high and enthused all at once, glad the stereo's up so high you can't really hear it when you both shout, "dance the night away!"

It's not quite night yet. You've a lot of dancing to do if you're gonna listen to Van Halen's instructions, the sun a half-disk of gold on the horizon, the sky raspberry pink bleeding up into darkening indigo.

Steve grins at your growing enthusiasm and twirls you around. You only allow him this, too afraid to step on his toes as you come to a stop.

He hums along and you clutch his hand. You covet the other where it's held to his chest, pushing your fingers through his. They fit together perfectly.

"Am I ever gonna get that tape back?" you ask.

"No," he says, laughing loudly. "No way. I love this song."

"I love this song too. That's why I bought the album."

"You said however long I wanted!"

"I didn't think you'd stick around this long," you confess.

"I did," he says. He leans down, stops. "Can I kiss you?"

You nod and beat him to it, hand at his collar as you step on your toes and press your mouth to his. You're both smiling, your eyes closed tight and your lips tight together until he pulls back, pulling his hand from your brushing grip to stroke the side of your face, rough in his rush.

When you come back together it's slower, your lips parted mid-giggle as he moves in. You sigh, a high-pitched and embarrassing sound from the back of your throat that's quickly swallowed by his ardency.

"Stop laughing at me," he admonishes playfully.

"I'm not! I'm not, I'm really happy," you defend yourself, setting back on your heels.

You've forgotten all about your pajamas and the icky feeling in your chest. With Steve's palms to your cheeks like this – like you're something worth being cradled in careful hands – you can't feel anything but happy.

"I don't have enough vases for your flowers," you apologise as he chases you down, dropping kisses over the corner of your mouth and the apple of your cheek.

"Good thing I begged for all those buckets," he says, brown eyes squinting with the force of his cherubic smile. His pert nose flares with a silent laugh.

"Good thing," you agree.

He holds you by the shoulders. "Good thing," he says again.

You descend into another round of laughter that leaves you panting for air, your head dropping into his chest. "A really good thing."

"I didn't go overboard, did I?" he asks, petting the nape of your neck.

"You did."

"Sorry, I-"

You wrap your arms around his waist and squeeze him as hard as you can. He groans lightly as he encircles your shoulders, the tip of his nose a butterfly's wing against your forehead, impossibly light and skipping, back and forth and back again.

"I'm gonna make you flower shortbread," you say eventually, soaking in his warmth, his closeness.

"Yeah?"

"I swear. And more penuche. What's your favourite? I'll make you whatever you want. What do you have a sweet tooth for?"

"Could I get another kiss?" he asks quietly.

You tilt your head back and wait. Steve isn't quite smiling though his eyes boast an emotion you're afraid to name, unbearably fond.

"Are you gonna kiss me again?" you ask into the gap.

"In a sec, just… let me look at you," he says, hand cupping your cheek.

You blink back a stinging wave of tears and smile, tracing over his features greedily.

"You're beautiful," he says.

It’s funny. You were thinking the same thing about him.

𓆩❤︎𓆪

thanks for reading!

#steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington x fem!reader #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things 4 #stranger things

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ruizpizzaria · 6 months

Text

FAZGANGG ROLL OUT ( FNAF MOVIE RAMBLES + EASTER EGGS !!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ) PT 1

MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD ! ! ! !

ok first off i cant put into text or words about how i fucking insane i am about this movie so uhm ahahaha im not gonna or i might explode my head off and end up looking like cc's foxy's plush. THIS MOVIE WAS THE MOST LOVINGLY LOVING LOVE LETTER TO THE FANBASE AND I COULD NOT BE MORE NUTS ABOUT IT

SO IM GONNA WRITE ABT ALL THE LIL EASTER EGGS I NOTICED DURING MY WATCH OF THE MOVIE !!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ( many more rewatches to come )

UPDATE : PICS ADDED ! ! !

MATPAT AND CORYXKENSHIN CAMEOS ( NO MARKIPLIER D: )

do i even have to say anything about this??

MATPAT SERVING THEORIES SO HARD HE GOT HIRED AS A WAITRESS

CORY BREAKING ANKLES AS AN UBER DRIVER

the theater went ballistic yeah

SPARKY THE DOG CAMEO / FINALLY CANON LOL

MAN OH MAN WHATT I DDID NOT EXPECT THIS ONE.

In the movie we get a full glimpse of a disassembled sparky suit in parts in service -> max gets stuffed inside this suit later on or a suit next to sparky

the diner that matpat works at is also called Sparky's ( lol foreshadowing )

this is still pretty unreal to me.

FNAF BOOK LORE PLAYS A BIG PART IN THE STORY

There's a scene towards the end of the movie where Abby is hiding from foxy and runs to hide behind some arcade games -> reference to the sequence where Foxy is chasing Charlie in the silver eyes (lighting is almost one on one too)

The animatronics realize they're getting manipulated by afton /spring bonnie when Abby shows them the truth through a drawing depicting spring bonnie's true nature -> reference to Carlton showing the dead children that spring bonnie / afton is their enemy through drawing spring bonnie as their killer

CARL THE CUPCAKE

i just find it kinda funny that the guy eaten alive by cupcake was named carl seeing as how carl was cupcake's fanon name

also he can defy gravity too ig

THE SHIRT CARL ( ONE OF THE GOONS WHO CAME TO TRASH THE PLACE ) IS WEARING HAS A PRINT OF FNAF 6'S DRIVING MINI GAME

Chica's magic rainbow from FNAF world gets its own branded ice cream parlor chain :

EVERYTHING ABOUT ABBY HANGING OUT WITH THE FAZGANG.

Spaghetti and Pizza analogy

this one is a bit more obvious but I like how its used as away to illustrate how mike had to choose giving up abby or cc ( i refuse to call him garrett he is either evan or chris. )

Hospitalized Vanessa Theory

Now that Vanessa is hospitalized could she be filling the roles of cc or mike in fnaf 4 ( mainly cuz of hospital hallucinations )-> shes traumatized by the animatronics and could hallucinate back to her days in the hospital ( if she wakes up or if its a dream sequence or something not sure ) ; also could also work since she's afton's daughter

LIVING TOMBSTONE END CREDITS LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!

point where i died in the theater and ascended

so yeah yk id say the trap was sprung successfully

I am the most normal about this movie

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cherrieflavouredheadcanons · 8 months

Note

Hello! Can I apply for a general relationship hc with Lyney?

Ah yes, greatest magican, aka the rizzard. I should say that at the point of writing this, I still have not played his character story and have evaded spoilers for it very well so far, so if anything is not that accurate that's why. But I hope you enjoy these headcanons!

CW: None GN Reader

Lyney Relationship Headcanons

Let me start this off by saying. This man is an absolute simp for you. If he could, he'd buy you everything you could ever want or need in life.

He lives to see you happy, a day where he hasn’t made you smile and laugh is a day he considered wasted. If the people of Fontaines believe in justice is the power used to energise the technology in Fontaine, then your laughs and smiles are the power to energise Lyney.

Lyney always gives you a rainbow rose before every date. Sometimes he gives them to you like a normal person, most of the time though he will give them to you with a magic trick. You have no idea what he does to the flowers, but he has to do something with them since they never seem to wilt away. You once asked him how he did it and all he claimed was “They will bloom as long as I love you my dear, which means they will bloom forever.”

Surprising you with magic tricks is one of his favourite activities. He comes up with so many ideas that it is impossible to carry them all out. And poor Lynette always has to help him set up the ones he does carry out and has to be his assistant for them, even if she is hidden somewhere so you won’t see her. She loves her brother truly, but by the Archons his love sick self could be annoying.

Speaking of magic tricks, for every one of his shows he has a seat reserved for you. He is aware that you can’t go to every one of his and Lynette’s shows, but he still reserves a seat for you anyways. So that when you are watching them you are always in the same seat and he can easily find your eyes amongst the many people in the audience. He will look at you, and his eyes turn soft and his smile grows a bit wider.

And should he ever need an assistant from the audience? Well lets just say that whenever you are watching the number generator randomly picks you every time. What a coincidence right?

Walking through the streets of Fontaine while holding hands is a must for him. He wants everyone to see what an amazing partner he has. If it were up to him all of Teyvat would know that he is taken and absolutely enamoured by you.

Though it should be said that despite being absolutely in love with you, Lyney would not be in a relationship with you if his sister or brother couldn’t stand you. They are a big and very important part of his life, and anyone who does not like them has no place in his life and heart. Luckily for you Lynette likes you, she sees how happy you make her brother. Freminet appreciates that you do not force him to speak when he is clearly uncomfortable and is also grateful for you that you treat them all with respect and love.

Whenever you aren’t paying attention to your surroundings, be it because you are sitting somewhere and reading a book, engrossed in the story, or because you are cooking a meal for Lyney, his siblings and well yourself, he will sneak up on you from behind and wrap his arms around you, kissing your cheek as he laughs. You want to be mad at him for scaring you, but how can you when he laughs so happily and his eyes shine with love?

While Lyney obviously has many magic tricks he works on to show them in front of a big audience and always has Lynette as his assistant. There is one trick that he is currently planning where he doesn’t want an audience or an assistant for.

What is that trick? Well let’s just say it has to do with a ring sitting in a small velvet box ;)

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact headcanons #lyney x reader #genshin headcanons #lyney #genshin x you #genshin impact fluff #genshin lyney #lyney x you #lyney fluff #genshin impact lyney #lyney headcanons #genshin impact x you #genshin fluff

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most-datable-datable-bracket · 2 months

Text

ROUND 3 MATCH 32

Mammon propaganda:

“He was done dirty in the first round, I hope he wins this time because he deserves it

First of all, he hates you at the start but then he starts to like you but he exclaimed his hate too much at the start so he can't admit it

Everyone knows that he likes MC, even his little D (who are demons familiars) thinks that they should date

He is a classic tsundere but doesn't actually hurt you like other tsunderes but he is so bad at hiding his feelings that everyone is just ignores it

He is the avatar of greed, meaning he is clingy which may be a turn away for some people but he cares for you so so much

He has never turned into his demon form to hurt you (Asmo hasn't but he has tried to seduce you with his power)

Don't get me started on his story cards, he literally is so cute

He wants to be a mentor to Luke, like Lucifer was to him, he is only mean to Luke because he wants Luke to learn about how life isn't all sunshine and rainbows

He is also so hot, he is a bisexual panic

He is bullied by his brothers but he cares for them so so much despite their bullying

I am so in love with him and have written so many fics about him

Anyway, I'm going to stop here because otherwise I'll be here all day”

“First friend, first pact, practically the MC's first everything, he is a major Tsundere, he holds my heart hostage, I just want to smooch him, he and MC share a room, he is such a cute little bab, he does bully Luke (a child) but it's revealed that he just wants to show Luke that the world isn't all sunshine and rainbows and want help him figure things out

He is the cutest little guy, he cares for his brother

His sin is greed so he does steal things from people but since lesson 1 he hasn't stolen anything from MC

He wrote a song to propose

Sure he is clingy but in a good way

He is so cute

He adopted a child, which he had to leave in the care of witches and willingly let's the witches extort him

There is so much that I can say about him but 1. Spoilers and 2. I don't think you want to read that much”

“OKAY SO. OH MY GOD.

First person we're able to properly romance in game. AND FOR GOOD REASON. He's had MCs back from the beginning, hes the one real one in the game. He's always trying to protect us and its so nice. Puppy boy. He's so me as well??? Like he's such a doting boyfriend it's literally so cute. When MC had to go back up to Earth, he kept breaking the rotating schedule in order to call us more. He always gets MC gifts (avatar of greed love language being gift giving im gonna collapse) and he just drops the most romantic lines out of nowhere??? Like sir are you trying to give me a heart attack. He's the secretly traumatized comic relief. He has ADHD. He's canonically queer (MC doesnt have a set gender). He even likes Head pats. Vote Mammon.”

“HE'S SO PATHETIC AND CRINGEFAIL. I LOVE HIM”

Jaehee propaganda:

“only female love interest in MM, not included in the first round for SOME REASON, you literally go off and live your coffee shop au with her at the end of her route.”

“My lesbian wife. Open a bakery with her after convincing her that she doesn't have to give up her happiness to make money. She can pursue her passions. Also her backstory is so sad and I just wanna hug and kiss her and throw hands at her "family" for making her feel like she does. Also the Valentine's dlc, you get locked in the back of the bakery with her and... Yeah that's my wife. I love her dearly. Also can we just acknowledge that she's like the only path that involves almost none of the dramatic death defying nonsense. You're just gay and in love and it's beautiful”

#mammon #mammon obey me #obey me #obey me shall we date #jaehee kang #mystic messenger #mysme #Round 3 #MDDC 2

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celestial-quill-n-ink · 8 months

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What They Think Of You (Season 1):

🎮Leviathan🎮

✦ To be honest, Levi pretty much forgot that the Human Exchange Student was going to be arriving that day. I mean, he had so many more important things to worry about, so what reason would he have to care about a simple human?

✦ …Actually… He could use this to his advantage. Would it be petty? Maybe, but it would serve Mammon right for being such a scummy brother!

✦ And surprisingly enough, his plan worked! But despite what his brothers were insinuating, he didn't care for you in any way! Not at all! Not one bit!

✦ It's not like he was practically living within one of his favourite anime tropes, having become the unsuspecting onlooker to a real life isekai! An innocent human suddenly thrust into a world of magic and demons! An instantly compelling setup that had made him fall in love with many a main characters…

✦ But regardless of any of that!!! He was just a stinky Otaku who gamed his days away in the comfort of his room. There was no need for him to get involved with whatever daredevil antics the human and his scummy brother were bound to get up to.

✦ …That wasn't going to be as easy as he wanted, however.

✦ Because this human just didn't know when to quit! I mean, why do they get to have so much fun binging TSL and then act so confident as if they know what they're talking about? It just wasn't fair.

✦ And now here he was, standing in front of a terrifyingly large crowd in the main hall of RAD, just to prove to one singular prideful human that he was the ultimate TSL fan!

✦ …He really didn't want to hurt them. He honestly felt downright awful after his outburst. But most of all, he felt defeated.

✦ Did he believe that you cheated during the TSL Showdown? …Kind of, yeah. Actually, yeah, he did think it was a scummy thing to do!

✦ But… it's not like he was in a position to have the rarest of merch or all the insider details of his favourite story. And that's simply because he was a shut-in. He keeps to himself and he never tries to interact with others.

✦ Whether he likes it or not, you got the advantages and opportunities you had because you actually interacted with people and made your own impression on them.

✦ And that made him so jealous.

✦ So he agreed to the pact. He conceded that you had something that he didn't, despite how desperately he did want it.

✦ And then you apologised to him. For using dirty tactics to get your way, because you would feel the exact way he did if someone tried to do that with your favourite pieces of media.

✦ …Wait, what???

✦ You actually enjoyed video games and anime too? Just like him??? ...I mean, maybe he could forgive you, but that didn't make you two best friends or anything!!!

✦ Spoiler Alert: It definitely did to him.

✦ He actually got to know you on a deeper level, watching how you'd interact with his brothers, like you were just always meant to fit with them. These… misfit fallen angels that they were.

✦ And the craziest thing of all was that you actually wanted to hang out with him!!! You wanted to share your favourite Human World anime and manga with him, and soon enough (way faster than he was ever willing to admit), he did the same for you with Devildom media.

✦ Which was all fine and dandy, sunshine and rainbows, but why in all of the three realms did his brothers have to be so obnoxious about you? Constantly vying for your attention, while you argued that you'd already scheduled this time for you and him.

✦ And wow, did hearing that pacify his envy quicker than any of the anime merch he's ever bought…

#obey me #obey me x reader #obey me x mc #obey me imagines #obey me imagine #obey me headcanons #obey me hcs #obey me shall we date #shall we date obey me #obey me leviathan #leviathan x reader #celestial writings

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meidnightrain · 6 months

Text

WELCOME TO FONTAINE - aether

❝ like any true love, it drives you crazy but you know you wouldn’t change anything. ❞

summary: traveling with the renowned traveler, you can’t help but be dazzled by him more than the sights of each nation

warnings: none, story quest spoilers for prologue

notes: kicking off the event with one of my absolute favs yayayay! challenge, find all the hidden lyrics and song references!

taglist: @staretes , @rynnlvrs , @sentifua , @i-probably-sleep-too-much , @reilly34 , @qqingque , @akutasoda

“paimon wants to try some yummy fontaine cuisine when we get there! ooh, maybe we can go sightseeing too!” the floating companion chirped, doing somersaults in the air alongside you and aether.

aether sighed in slight exasperation at her statement while you tried to stifle a laugh, your hand drifting to your mouth as you nodded at her words. “i’d love to eat some yummy fontaine food with you paimon. we just need to take the aquabus to the court of fontaine first.”

at the mention of eating ( and possibly free ) food, it seemed that paimon had suddenly been jolted, zooming towards the docking aqua bus. “yippee! what are you slowpokes waiting for?”

which left you and aether behind to pick up the pace, the tired blonde traveler shooting you a small smile which you tried to return though it didn’t meet your eyes. ever since you both had left mondstadt with venti’s blessings of finding the seven, it wasn’t that uncommon to find yourselves exhausted or worse for wear. especially since the battles you were facing ahead proved to be more perilous and tough than previous fights.

travelling to fontaine the nation of justice, you hoped that this cycle of laborious tasks would come to an end and you’d finally get some time to unwind. fontaine was the nation of justice…or love, some would like to say.

“i didn’t know that fontaine had a lot of people.” you murmur lowly, clinging to aether’s arm in an attempt to stay close to him. he shot up at your sudden touch, clearing his throat awkwardly before nodding. “maybe they’re just searching for something more.”

reaching the steps of the aquabus, he offered his hand to you, a sly smile on his face. “mon coeur?”

“i didn’t know you spoke fontainan.” you pouted, eyeing him warily as you took his hand gingerly. wandering the empty bus, your eyes drifted its interior to find paimon hounding the poor melusine conductor about fontaine’s delicacies.

“i don’t, i picked it up from lyney.” he shrugged nonchalantly, finding your annoyed expression amusing. you’re about to bite back a snarky reply until the bus started moving, causing the both of you to fall into each other’s arms, nearly toppling over the railing. perhaps the conductor was supposed to make an announcement before moving so suddenly…you were about to glare at the melusine but all you saw was paimon with a mischievous smirk on her face, one that could rival klee’s when she decided to go fish-blasting.

“you okay?” aether’s voice rung out which brought you back to reality, slightly crackly and squeaky, the kind when he was nervous or flustered. you turn your head back to him only to realise that you’re both so close that you could feel your breath on each other’s cheeks, your palm over his quickly rising and falling chest. the second hand embarrassment crept into your face as you recoiled almost instantly from him, the both of you trying to act as if nothing happened.

“hey look, it’s the court of fontaine!” paimon chirped out excitedly, thankfully breaking the awkward silence between the both of you with her hollering.

you’d heard how beautiful the city of fontaine was. how the sunlight hit the opera epiclese, the overall whimsical atmosphere that felt like you were living through a steampunk novel, the smell of morning dew on fresh rainbow roses. but nothing could compare to how ethereal he looked in front of it all.

the way aether’s face contorted to awe and disbelief, a genuine grin that you’d miss seeing after so long blooming on his face at the sight of the city. the dazzling lights were bright, like shimmering stars dancing across the night sky but they never blinded you.

half-dazed walking down the aquabus, all you could see was his smile etched in your memory like a stained glass painting. an mesmerising and majestic piece of art, the kind that people used to worship archons with.

“name!” aether called out to you from across the fountain of lucine, eyes twinkling with childlike excitement. trying to compose yourself from the internal screeching in your head, you couldn’t help but be curious and slightly apprehensive of what he wanted from you. paimon was no where in sight…how odd.

the sounds of fontaine were beautiful. a scene out of a ballet piece, like living straight out of an opera. your eyes widened as you followed aether’s gaze to the streams of water from the water fountain, completely in sync with the background music. it was a new soundtrack and you could just dance to the beat, the rhythm that intertwined with your soul.

it was like he read your mind, the blonde traveler grinning as he bowed to you in the empty plaza, a gloved palm outstretched in front of you. “may i have this dance?”

you tried to calm your rising nerves, taking his hand with a nervous beam. though his hands were on your waist, it felt like he held your beating heart in his hands, not that he knew off.

was this what love felt like? something that kept you second guessing yourself in fear of making a bad decision? something that would never change no matter how long you’ve known him, that same feeling of crystalflies in your stomach despite the fact that you’ve been travelling together for quite some time? something that drove you crazy, not sure whether you were going mad, a disease with symptoms that caused you to only think of aether? but you knew that you wouldn’t change anything.

maybe one day you’d muster the courage to tell him how much you felt but now you’d indulge yourself in this feeling of being in his arms, dancing to the soundtrack of this foreign city.

masterpost next->

#🕊️ - 1989 event #・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin impact x gender neutral reader #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #aether x reader #aether x you #🪧- event: 1989 #🗞️ - genshin impact fics

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waayfo · 15 days

Text

TO THE LONG FORGOTTEN PROPHECY neuvilette x gn!reader

summary speaking of prophecy— of course the fountaine citizens immediately thinking about the prophecy about fontaine's future that always haunting their sleep, remembering that what happened in the future involved their own lives. but there is one prophecy that almost (or even everyone?) everyone forgets; the prophecy regarding the hydro dragon— who has always remaining alone will meet his mate.

⋆ 𖦹 ˚｡⋆ fluff, no plot/plotless, light angst, reader is not traveler, fontaine archon quests spoilers, there might be some ooc, cross posting on AO3. a/n : im trying to get out of my comfort zone by not using google translate too much! so pls be easy on me T~T (yes english is not my first language) my draft suddenly disappeared & i had to write t again

the discernible hints of the prophecy starting to become reality didn’t went unnoticed by fontaine citizens, as they started to feel anxious— even scared to death.

and of course, mortals being themselves always helplessly blamming their beloved archon. mouths vociferate loudly as they continue blamming her for not being able to do anything. but oh little did they know about what struggles she’s been facing all this time merely for the sake of her own folks, that they couldn’t even face it themselves. but they just keep howling like wolves.

‘…that all people from fontaine are born with sin that cannot be absolved; one day, the waters of fontaine will rise and the sinful people will all be dissolved into the waters, and only the hydro archon will remain; weeping on her throne- only then will the sins of the people be washed away.’

and after the prophecy has passed, the trial of sins and a 500 year long show that is finally coming to an end, and the hydro dragon finally forgiven their sins.

and when the spotlights in the opera went out one by one, the seats are empty, and furina finished her part at the performance. she remained silent. the endeavor she faced all this time is finally gone. and now the theatrical has ended, what will she do now?

a small performance that performed by furina herself must be met with painful reality; she has to go. leaving the place where she had been living, in order to start a new beginning.

in the morning she started packing her things, helped by her venerated partner— neuvilette. but she suddenly remembered something that focalor had told her before.

“ah, well.. neuvilette,” she hesitantly said. “i want to remind you about a… prophecy that i think you forgot.”

one of neuvilette's eyebrows rose in curiosity. "oh? and what prophecy is that?" he’s sure that he never forgot about an important prophecy.

‘….alas! it will rain heavily one day; the hydro dragon cry to bid farewell to his dearest friend all-the-time. only to be changed by a rainbow, now that he finally found his mate.’

“that…” neuvilette give her a heavy sigh. “i don’t believe in that prophecy.”

“why? don’t you know that it’s raining heavily outside?” he peeked at the window. and like furina said, it was raining very hard outside, and he knew why. “it will never happen,” he replied.

furina only smiled at him. because deep down in her heart, she believed that her friend would find the perfect partner. as a reward for his hard work until now.

“well then, neuvilette. goodbye and…. thank you.”

insignificant annoyance were heard with every step neuvilette takes. why does it keep raining? they said. and a small child asked his mother innocently, ‘why does the hydro dragon keep crying?’

neuvilette could only stare at his reflection in the water distorted by raindrops. even if lightning started to strike, it would not dare to approach him. for the first time in a long time, he felt worldly tranquility he had longed for.

and that's why he chose to ignore the figure standing beside him. neuvilette didn't intend to glance at that person, just to see their figure. until…

“hydro dragon, hydro dragon, don’t cry!” that sentence was like a mantra for neuvilette. for a moment he thought that the voice of the person beside him was calming and soothing.

so neuvilette take a glance at the person beside him. time seemed to stop, neuvilette's heart was caught. the person's eyes shone amidst the darkness that accompanied neuvilette, they looked at him with worry. they’re captivating, their beauty is surreal that he’s sure that he’s dreaming right now.

and suddenly, the rain stopped. a rainbow slowly began to appear from the other end. maybe, just maybe, he can believe this one prophecy.

#konstelasiv fanfic #genshin fluff #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin scenarios #neuvilette x you #neuvilette imagine #neuvillette x you #neuvillete x reader #neuvilette x reader #neuvilette x y/n #genshin x gn reader #genshin x you #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin x y/n #genshin angst

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mattapparentlystumbltourneys · 5 months

Text

Virtual Character Tourney - Round 5 - Bracket B Finals

Propaganda below (May contain spoilers!)

Dr. Coomer propaganda:

Dr. Coomer is the EMBODIMENT of a old and broken AI. Silly man, just a very old guy who has a crisis over realizing that he's in a game because he went out of bounds. He runs into the same trap/enemy constantly because of one area at the beginning of the game, explodes anything with the word explosive on it, cannot stop greeting the player, recites the entirety of the 2012 Wikipedia article for chairs because was was sitting in one, and is basically a permanent tutorial npc. Someone fix this man's code please.

he is so sentient it hurts

he's a broken tutorial npc who becomes aware that he's trapped in a game and repeatedly tries to escape. he wanted to be a boxer instead of a scientist. he wants to live in super punch out for the super nintendo entertainment system but instead he's stuck in half life. you wouldn't leave him in half life, gordon? fucking half life? let him ou-- HELLO, GORDON!

Ultraman X propaganda:

X canonically lost his physical form and lives in Daiichi's phone. His presence caused Daiichi's phone to turn gold, instead of the standard-issue silver the rest of XIO's employees have. It's possible for XIO's scientists to send powerups to X because he lives on Daiichi's phone. There's also a couple episodes where X gets trapped in cyberspace and Dr. Gourman and friends have to design something for Daiichi to help him escape. (Dr. Gourman is the first to notice Daiichi is secretly Ultraman X. Also in the crossover movie, Daiichi and X got separated and X couldn't live on Daiichi's phone so he jumped to the nearest computer (which belonged to Naomi from Ultraman Orb, air date 2016) and began pulling up photos of Daiichi in a "Have You Seen This Nerd?" sort of way. The enemy goons saw Naomi and her cryptid hunting gang putting up missing posters for Daiichi and tore them down bc they had him captured at their crystal witch's base, a creepy haunted house. Eventually when Daiichi and X reunited as man and lil alien on his phone, they were so happy they ignored everyone else in the room. They were grateful enough to fight alongside Naomi's sad space cowboy, Kurenai Gai, in battle.

He's used the phone's vibration function a few times to try and get people's attention, and he doesn't like being turned face-down because he can't see. In order to take on a physical form he has to essentially fuse with his human partner Daichi. (also they get a power up form after Daichi nearly Dies to save him and it's rainbow themed.) While X is very chatty and enjoys talking with his partner, he's often a formless voice while they're fused.The exception being one occasion where he looks like an entire network. tldr this alien is gay he is very polite and deserves your vote.

#virtual character tourney #round 5 #quarterfinals #bracket finals #dr coomer #hlvrai coomer #hlvrai #half life vr but the ai is self aware #ultraman x #ultraman #character polls

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halsinsheart · 5 months

Text

a/n: act 1 scene...but different, mild spoilers?

summary: astarion asks for a pick me up from reader but discovers much more in the process

tags: NSFW, MDNI, vag owning!reader, blood play, wound infliction(r), oral(r), manipulation, implied no aftercare(it's a lie), sarcasm

w/c: ~1.6k

kinkmas masterlist || reblogs > likes

A disturbance close to you jolted you awake, and you braced yourself to attack whomever it was that tried to take advantage of your vulnerable state. Your mind raced with worst-case scenarios about your assailant’s identity until your eyes adjusted and registered that Astarion was who stood above you. Several emotions are processed on your face in rapid succession until you settle on a mix of confusion and anger.

The pale elf was quick to try and excuse himself as he stammered and breathlessly clarified his actions. His reaction reassured you that you weren’t in any imminent mortal danger and you relaxed ever so slightly as you listened. Without much prying and pushing from you for answers, he explained everything you were curious about and more.

That vulnerability he showed you made your heart ache in sympathy for his predicament. What it must have been like to live a life so fraught with a need to kill that you couldn’t resist… And so, you offered your neck to him, convincing yourself it wasn’t out of pity but out of concern. He was right, you needed him strong.

“Is it… is it going to hurt?” you questioned in last-minute reconsideration as you laid back down on your bedroll, turning on your side to bare the flesh for him.

“Well it’s not going to feel like sunshine and rainbows, I am drinking your blood,” a harsh sarcastic tone left him that you hadn’t heard him use before he cleared his throat and changed his tonality, “but I will make it as pleasurable as possible for you, darling.”

You nodded and mumbled your thanks as you shifted into the fabric on the ground to find an ounce more comfort to prepare yourself. One of his hands rested gingerly on your hip, his touch soothing your nerves as his other hand brushed your hair out of the way. As he leaned closer, you held your breath in anticipation. Smooth, cold teeth brushed across your pulse sending a shiver down your spine before they punctured through your skin.

His hand on your hip tightened as you squirmed and the other wrapped around your neck from the side opposite being drained. It felt so cold. You could feel your veins throbbing throughout your body. The sensation was dizzying, electrifying, painful yet blissful; you lost yourself in the contradicting feelings as he drank from you. Your mind was fuzzed and tingling, not fully comprehending when you let a rather obscene moan past your lips.

The moan was unmistakable to the point where Astarion separated himself from your neck to glance down at you with a devious inquisitive look. A drop of your blood dripped from his mouth onto your hand and again, you moaned, albeit softer this time. Laughter chimed out from the vampire as he took amusement in the reaction.

“Are you actually deriving pleasure from this? And to think you were worried it would hurt. Please,” he rolled his eyes, a wide smirk still plastered to his crimson-dripping mouth, “I bet you wanted it to hurt, didn’t you? You wanted to writhe in agonizing pain as I took the one thing more precious to you than sanity itself. Didn’t you?”

Your chin was gripped roughly as he made you look at him, expecting an answer. His words made sense to you; despite them being true, you wanted to refute them. But when your mouth opened to try and form words around the woozy bloodless feeling, all that came out was another pathetic noise. Another fit of laughter overtook the vampire as he guided you to your back so he could hover above you.

“Gods, you are one sick little freak. I love it,” his eyes darkened to a point that would probably instill fear in anyone who wasn’t you, who got off on how intimidating and helpless you felt in the situation.

He leaned down and licked the blood that had dripped from the wound when he pulled away, grinning when you moaned for him again and arched your back off the bedroll. Oh, this was just too easy! Teeth brushed against your skin again, further down past your collarbone now before they pierced the flesh, earning a shocked gasp and pitiful plea from you.

“Astarion…,” his name escaped you as a euphoric sigh and he struggled to prevent it from affecting him.

Biting you again, he aimed to recreate the sound and once you did he bit you a fourth time. By the time he was panting himself, your entire front, now free of clothing, was littered with his bite marks and your smeared blood. Yet still as he breathed heavily against your abdomen, his eyes were blown wide with hunger of a different nature. His cold, deft hands left no inch of your torso untouched and further spread your blood.

“You look absolutely divine like this, darling,” he leaned back to admire his work while also allowing you to do the same to him, who had also long been shirtless and was almost equally as covered in your blood.

If you could form coherent sentences through the constant pang of being bit and the cloud of blood loss, you would have told him the same. You would have told him how ethereal he looked illuminated by the moon overhead, his pale skin glistening with your blood, with you. Still, he wasn’t done with you. He had lost himself to the moment but rationalized that this licentious liaison would only solidify his place within the camp and your thoughts.

Slowly, teasingly, he slid your pants off and his eyes raked over every new piece of flesh he exposed, envisioning how it would look peppered with his bites. Fingers brushed along your sensitive spots and made you shiver as he parted your legs, biting into the flesh of one thigh and then the other. His teeth dragged along your skin, scraping and tearing ever so slightly before digging in again and again until he circled back to the apex of where your thighs met. With his eyes level with your cunt, you felt embarrassment warm your cheeks and you attempted to close your thighs only to be stopped by the firm grip of his hands.

“Ah, ah, ah, you’re not hiding from me now. It’s far too late for you to run,” his voice was lower than usual with an undertone of warning should you try to conceal yourself from him again.

Exposed and at his mercy, you watched as Astarion licked up your pussy and you silently prayed he wouldn’t tease you about how wet you were. His tongue stopped to pay extra attention to your clit, flicking against it while he maintained eye contact with you. Lithe fingers moved to join his mouth’s ministrations, teasing as they circled and prodded at your entrance but never entering. You huffed in protest and hung your head back while his lips wrapped around the bundle of nerves, earning another sweet moan from you.

“Stop teasing me… Astarion ple- ohh,” he interrupted your sentence with a softer nip of a bite right above your cunt.

The soft muffled snicker didn’t slip past your notice and you reached down to tug on his hair, attempting to put the gorgeous face where you needed it most. In a rare moment of obedience, Astarion moved with your guidance and focused his attention on your throbbing core. Two fingers pressed into you, exploring your insides and just exactly what made you tick, what made your bloodied thighs twitch, and what made your breath hitch.

To your agony, when he did find a movement of his fingers you enjoyed, he changed it in favor of seeing if the next movement would also have the same effect. You could feel yourself winding up and getting close, only to have it ripped away with each variation he tested. Astarion was more than aware of what he was doing, just toying with you one more time tonight.

He realized when your anguish crested and right before you were going to whine, his experienced tongue began to work at your clit again. This time, he teased it with added fervor all while finally keeping his fingers in a consistent movement. The hazy filter over your mind only became heavier as your body throbbed with pain and pleasure. The two became indiscernible as the knot in your stomach tightened until it snapped into numbing bliss.

Your thighs shook as they pressed against each side of Astarion’s head. He more than welcomed the feeling as he aided you through your high and back down. When his mouth parted from your cunt, he made a show of licking his fingers clean and smacking his lips as your juices mingled with your blood. Sitting up, he looked over his final work on your now battered body with a smug accomplished look.

All of the pain inflicted upon you throbbed in recognition after the pleasure faded and it left you squirming slightly on your bedroll. Though even squirming subsided quickly as the fatigue set in. Come morning, you would wake covered in bites and bruises, but somehow clean. For now, Astarion had the decency to at least help you cover yourself before you began to slip into a sweet sleep.

“Thank you, darling. I do so look forward to exploring your twisted pleasures further. And perhaps next time we can cover you in even more bodily fluids.”

#🍄{my creations}🐻#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #astarion ancunin #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #smut #bg3 smut #astarion smut #x tav #x reader #x you

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