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#and this time i wasn't even halfway done and i already hated it
whumpitisthen · 1 month
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New and soul shattering experience: rewriting a chapter in an entirely different way because you realise halfway through it is boring and not necessary and you hate it <3
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steddieas-shegoes · 2 months
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shit talkin' up all night
for @steddiesongfics song 'for the first time' by the script
rated m | 1,469 words | cw: alcohol, arguing | tags: angst with a happy ending, established relationship, robin buckley deserves an award for saving their relationship everyone say thank you robin, they're in love, eddie is just dumb for a bit
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The arguing started when Steve suggested they move back in with Wayne.
They were struggling; Eddie wasn't an idiot, he could see the told his unemployment was taking on their financial situation. They were able to cover rent from Steve's paycheck, but they had to cut back on literally everything else. No more date nights, no more trips to visit Dustin, no more buying the good bacon for breakfast.
It wasn't for lack of trying, it's just that Eddie only had a GED and no marketable skills outside of playing music. Any job he could get would make miserable.
"I just think if we take some time to save up, maybe you'll be able to find something you like and then it'll be better," Steve shrugged.
"I'm not moving back in with Wayne. He did enough for me already."
"Then I'll get another job."
"No, you're not working two jobs. I'll just...go work at the McDonald's."
"Eds, you would hate it there."
"Well, it's a paycheck."
Steve sighed and walked away.
And then it got worse.
Eddie did find a job. He worked part time at the music lesson school. It didn't pay nearly enough, but it was something.
Until one of the parents found out he was working there and threw a fit and he got fired. The owner apologized, but said if it came down to his business and Eddie, he had to let Eddie go.
Back to square one.
Steve was too understanding. It was frustrating.
Eddie started arguments just to make him mad.
Whatever would push him: leaving all the dirty dishes in the sink, staying out late without letting him know, buying the good bacon for breakfast when it wasn't in the budget.
It did start to work eventually.
"Why are you doing this?" Steve asked eventually, after two nights of Eddie coming home late for no other reason than to make Steve upset. He hadn't even done anything, just walked around downtown for a couple hours and thought about how much of a failure he'd been.
"I'm not doing anything," he'd say back.
Steve would push.
Eddie would push back.
Little things turned into big things.
And then Eddie came home drunk.
He hadn't even been to a bar, he hadn't been with anyone else. He'd gotten one six pack of beer and realized halfway through it that he hadn't eaten all day and kept drinking anyway.
The buzz was great until he was stumbling through the front door, waking Steve up from his half-slumber on the couch of the apartment.
Steve didn't even argue. He just shook his head and went to their bedroom, closing the door and making it clear he didn't want to be around Eddie.
The next morning, Steve was already gone when Eddie managed to roll off the couch.
"Steve's not gonna say it, so I will," Robin's voice made him trip over his boots on the floor. She was sitting in the armchair, glaring at him. "You're pushing him away because you don't think you deserve someone who is patient and loving. He used to try that shit with me, with the kids, with Hopper. Started shit just to see if we'd leave. Pretended he was the only one who could deal with his problems."
Eddie blinked back at her, vision blurry from sleep and unshed tears. He wasn't gonna cry in front of Robin.
"I could understand why he did it. He had shitty parents and shitty friends before all of us. Took him some time to get used to being cared for." Robin leaned forward. "But you've had Wayne for a long time. Us. Steve. So what is it that's causing this? Why are you hurting Steve? Why are you hurting yourself?"
Eddie had been to therapy for a month or so after everything. The government insisted on it. He'd even done what they asked of him. Talked about everything that happened, talked about his childhood, talked about being gay in a town that thought being gay was bad enough to send you to hell, but somehow still the least of Eddie's crimes.
The therapist told him it seemed like he was always preparing himself to get hurt, even with the people that he did trust. That was the last time he went to the therapist.
"Because this is all I'll ever be, Robin! Steve should get out while he can, find someone who isn't fuckin' useless. Someone who can get a real job or go to school or something."
"Is this because you can't be on your feet for more than a couple hours?"
Eddie was silent.
"Do you think that means you can't do things? Do you think Steve wants to watch you suffer more than you already have?"
Eddie shook his head once.
"Then here's what you're gonna do. You're gonna shower and clean up the house a little. You're gonna cook that chicken dish Steve loves so much because I went to the deli to get fresh ingredients for you. You're gonna open that bottle of wine I did not steal from Chrissy's restaurant. You're gonna talk to him."
"Okay."
"And then tomorrow, you're gonna come interview for a job at the museum. They're opening a new exhibit called Rock Through The Ages and they're looking for someone to do tours. It's four hours a day, five days a week. Pay is more than you made anywhere else plus tips. Interview is a formality, they already know you're qualified."
"Robin, I-"
"And you're gonna shut up. I love you, too, Eddie. And I love that dingus who loves you. So get your shit together so you can both be as happy as I know you can be."
Eddie hugged her for a long time, probably much longer than Robin would have ever allowed him to if it weren't for the circumstances.
He cleaned himself up, he cleaned up the apartment, he cooked dinner, and he opened the bottle of wine.
Neither of them were big fans of wine, but this was a $100 bottle. Eddie would drink every last drop.
When Steve came through the door at 4:39 on the dot, just like he did every week day, Eddie was holding a glass of wine out to him with a small smile.
"Eds? What's this?"
"Been a while since we've had a date night. Thought maybe we deserved it."
Steve stared back at him blankly, then let out a sob and walked over to him, burying his face in his neck.
"Sh, it's okay, sweetheart. I'm right here," Eddie wrapped him up in his arms, kissing his head. "I'm here."
"You promise?" Steve's broken voice nearly tore Eddie in two. How had he let it get this bad?
"I promise, Stevie. I'm sorry I've been somewhere else in my head."
Steve pulled away, sniffling and looking around the room as he realized that dinner was already set out on the bar and the dishes were done.
"You did all this for me?"
"For us."
"Is that chicken cacciatore?" Steve walked to the plate in his usual spot and smiled. "You made this?"
"I did. Hopefully it's edible. If not, I already have the menu for the Italian place down the road by the phone," Eddie pulled Steve's chair out for him and then sat down next to him.
They talked through dinner, mostly about Steve's day, and then about Eddie's. He brought up the interview and Steve beamed like the sun.
"That sounds perfect for you, Eds."
"I know. I think it'll be great."
The bottle of wine went down easy. Maybe a little too easy.
By the time they realized it was gone, they were giggling and leaning on each other, cheeks red and eyes glazed over with a buzz that was more than just the high alcohol content.
Steve leaned in to kiss him.
Eddie leaned in to kiss him back.
And for the first time in a long time, they stayed up all night, talking, kissing, touching in ways they'd nearly forgotten how to do.
When Eddie got the job, he sent Robin flowers. Nothing fancy, the pay wasn't that good. But he had to thank her for getting his head out of his ass and his ass in shape.
Steve didn't ask when he saw the bill for it, just smiled and kissed the top of Eddie's head while he got ready for his first day of work.
"I love you. Good luck today," Steve said as he fixed his glasses before grabbing his keys to head to his job at the youth center downtown.
"Love you too. Pizza tonight?"
"Sounds good, love. Wine?"
Eddie nodded towards the bottle of $3 wine from the liquor store.
Steve laughed. "I'll grab some Tylenol on my way home."
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optimist-pine · 3 months
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Returns
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader
Warnings: None
Summary: Daryl finds something in his pack that doesn't belong to him... (ps. it's yours)
Era: Season 2, the farm
A/n: This is a silly little thank you for everyone who's been supporting my writing! If you've liked/commented/reblogged any of my works recently, this is for you. :)
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Daryl digs around in his backpack, shoving aside arrow bits and extra clothes in the search for a clean(ish) rag he knows is buried in here somewhere. Ah, there, the glimpse of a red hue must be what he's looking for. He tugs it free, but as he brings it into the daylight it comes to his attention that this piece of cloth doesn't belong to him.
He drops it immediately, head swiveling to make sure nobody saw. But no, he's tucked far away from the rest of the group, not a soul in sight. He gingerly picks up the garment before realizing how ridiculous he's being and shoves it in his pocket. He'll slip into your tent, return it, and get the hell out of there and get on with the rest of his day.
Everyone's either dispersed to other parts of the farm or busy enough completing whatever chores they've taken on to notice him. Even if he didn't already know which tent was yours, it'd be obvious from the plethora of herbs and flowers hanging to dry by the entrance, and the dog-eared foraging guidebook waiting on a lawn chair for your return.
He peers through the screen window to assure himself that you're not around before unzipping the door and stepping inside. A moment too late, he realizes the amount of dirt he's just tracked into your otherwise pristine living space, and curses. Nothing to do about it now he supposes. He squats down, opening your pack and pulling the wayward item out of his pocket.
"Daryl? What're you doing in my-" Your voice makes him jump before your words falter.
His head snaps to you; you're bent down a bit, hands on your hips with sweat dripping down your temple. Your mouth is stuck in a cute little "o" of pure confusion. He's frozen, hand halfway between him and your belongings, lungs stuck mid-breath. He really should say something in his own defense.
"Is that my underwear?" You ask a little more quietly.
"I - uh..." He gapes. He's invading your privacy in so many ways, you're going to think he's a total ass if not a complete creep. And he actually doesn't mind you too much so he doesn't want you to think of him in that way. Not that you think of him at all. But now when you do you're going to hate his guts. "They - uh..." He tries.
"Ohh. I get it." You say, nodding, like this all makes total sense. "I've got something of yours I've been meaning to return, just wasn't sure how to make it not-awkward..." You kneel down beside him, fishing around in a side compartment on your bag. "Buuuut no matter. I believe these belong to you." You hold out a pair of faded boxers that've been rolled up neatly.
"Hey, Rick wants to know if-" Glenn appears in the tent opening and Daryl can practically see the gears struggling to turn in his head as he takes in the two of you so close together, each obviously holding the other's intimates. "Y'know what? Nevermind. Just go talk to Rick when you're done or whatever, okay?" He sighs, walking away.
Daryl wastes no time grabbing his boxers, shoving them in his pocket. You do the same but with more grace, standing to brush off your pants.
You let out a small chuckle, biting down a bit on your lip. "It was so hectic when we left the CDC; must've grabbed each other's stuff then." You step outside and he follows. "Thanks for returning them." You say, stooping to re-zip the tent.
The CDC is such a blur that it takes effort to remember. There weren't enough rooms for everyone and so you'd asked to bunk with him. Even though he was sufficiently intoxicated that night, he'd been lucid enough to appreciate not being alone, your steady breaths in the unsettling darkness had quieted his nerves.
He can't seem to make his eyes stay on you for long, though that doesn't stop your gaze from lingering - he can practically feel every place your eyes land as you study him. "S'no problem." He shrugs.
"Well, I guess I'd better go see what Rick wants..." you sigh, making no noticeable effort to go anywhere.
You're leaving a space for him to say something but he doesn't really have anything to add to that. "Yeah." He replies dumbly.
A soft smile grows upon your lips. "Don't be a stranger, okay? Some of us actually enjoy your company." You nudge his shoulder good-naturedly as you walk away.
He mulls over your words, trying dissect what that last little bit means. You were just being kind, right? He's pretty sure people have barely put up with his company, let alone enjoyed it. Realizing you've already been gone for multiple minutes he pushes those thoughts to the back of his mind and trudges off, noting that there's at least a few hours of good daylight left to make use of. But those thoughts are still there, nagging, toying with him.
---
A couple of days later, when Daryl returns to his camp after a successful enough trip into the woods, there sits your well-loved guidebook. It's laying on the ground where you must've set it when you stopped by earlier and forgotten it when the two of you headed out. He picks it up, flipping through the bent pages and your frequent notes when he passes one that makes him stop and turn back. Next to chanterelle mushrooms you've scribbled 'Daryl - pair w/ venison' . He hadn't caught game that big since back at the quarry, and even then the geeks got to it first. A small swell of pride rises within him at the thought of you planning ahead in this way, of you counting on him to provide.
The feeling follows him as he settles down for the night. Pulling out a flashlight he figures he might as well see if there's anything he can learn from your book... Or maybe that's just an excuse to search for more of your annotations. He'll have another return to make in the morning, but he can't quite bring himself to mind all that much.
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ziggyzolch · 2 months
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Queen Bee-atch Ⅰ (Regina George x Reader)
Summary: You, a self-proclaimed loser, are going into Junior year with one goal in mind: Avoid Regina George. Nobody notices you, so it shouldn't be too hard…right?
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Light seeps through the blinds and birds start to make themselves known with their melodic chirps. Aggressive rustling can be heard from outside your door as you throw a mini tantrum on your, now ruffled up, sheets. Sleepless nights weren't new to you, but they don't get any less frustrating. You stare at the ceiling for a good 30 seconds before finally pushing yourself off your bed. Walking to turn off the air conditioning, you trip over god-knows what and fall flat on your face. The first day of junior year and you're already contemplating ending it all, on the floor of your dump of a bedroom, laying next to a-
"My mascara!", you exclaimed as you sat up. You lost that thing ages ago. You get up, taking the mascara with you and make your way into the bathroom. Becoming a junior wasn't anything you cared for. After sophomore year, the illusion of high school you created in your head had melted away, leaving behind a hollow teenage girl that just wanted to get it over and done with.
Putting away your mascara, you catch a glimpse of yourself in your mirror. A bed-head ridden girl with deep eye bags, which only seem to become more obvious with each passing day, stares back at you. "God, I look horrific," you thought out loud. A habit, in hindsight, you needed to rid yourself of. Going through your morning routine, you think about the coming school year. 11th grade! Will this be the year you reinvent yourself? You could completely change yourself; The way you walk, talk, act, and dress!
...
Who are you kidding.
After successfully poking your eye with your eyeliner three times, you're done. You peak your head out your bathroom door, glancing at the cat-themed clock you've had since you were a baby. It's 8 am. Classes start at 8:15. Curses fall out of your mouth. Did time warp halfway through your routine or something? Running out of the bathroom you quickly change into your clothes, a worn out band T-shirt and black cargos. You can hear your mother cursing at you from downstairs as you make your way out your room. "You're going to be late on your first day, seriously?" Your mom deadpans as you reach the bottom of the stairs. "Whatever, mom, they don't even care."
Walking to school instead of letting your mother drive you was probably not the best idea, but you're too far from the house to care right now. You turn the final corner and arrive at your final location, North Shore High School. Approaching the doors, you can already make out two students face-mashing each other through the window.
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You've been a student at North Shore since freshman year, but anyone could mistake you for a new student, if they even noticed you that is. You pride yourself in being able to blend in with the crowd. This school was filled with losers, so you fit right in. They had already been assigned, so you made your way through the various cliques grouped up in the hallways and to your locker. As much as you hated this place, it's what you're used to. You'd have a hard time adjusting to a new high school, at least at this one you knew who to avoid. You don't even think about it anymore since you don't run into them much- nevermind. "Watch it, freak!"
Great, of anyone you could've bumped into, it's the queen bitch, Regina George. "Whatever." you mumbled and began to walk away when you were pulled back by your bag and shoved back into the lockers...hard. "This is the part where you apologize, Gerard Way." she spits at you while holding the straps of your backpack. A bit of black eyeliner and suddenly you're emo at this school. She was a couple inches taller than you, making it all the more embarrassing, looking up at her. Wriggling around proves unsuccessful. Is there a gym-bro buried beneath her layers of pink and pretty or something? Getting out of her grip doesn't seem like a possibility, so you begrudgingly mumble out a "Sorry..."
She stares at you for a few seconds too long.
"Uhm...can I go now?" You ask. "Yeah uh, sure, whatever." She finally lets you go and storms away towards her group of all-mighty "biatches", or "Plastics" as some (mainly Damien and Janis) call them.
So much for not being noticed.
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A/N: this is my first time writing, so any constructive criticism would be great! forgive any awkward wording or corny-ness. There are more chapters up on my wattpad and ao3, same username for both. @ziggyzolch
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roosterforme · 1 year
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The Younger Kind Part 1 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: As a single dad trying to start dating again, Bradley feels like he's constantly running in circles. Hiring a twenty-four year old student to babysit should have made things easier, but no matter how hard he fights it, you're too irresistible to stay away from. 
Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff, and age gap (eventually 18+)
Length: 3300 words
Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader
Check out my masterlist for more!
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Bradley cradled his forehead in his hands as he leaned against the bar. He hated being interrogated like this. He knew it was coming eventually, but he really wasn't expecting it today.
"You need a babysitter?" Nat asked with vivid interest. "Who are you going on a date with?"
He groaned. "What makes you think I need a babysitter so I can go on a date? Maybe I just need a couple hours to myself."
Nat rolled her eyes. "Because when you need an hour or two to yourself, you always ask me if I can come over and stay with Noah. And I always oblige, because I am the best person you know. So this must be something else. Who is it?"
"Rebel asked me out," Bradley murmured, looking at his friend out of the corner of his eye.
"Rebel! She's only been at Top Gun for a week!" Nat said, eyes wide as she examined his face. "She literally arrived from Lemoore seven days ago, and she already made a move on you? Damn, some of these pilots are quick."
"She just asked me out for coffee. I only said yes, because you keep telling me I should start dating again!"
"Well, you should start dating again. But I figured you'd download an app, find some cute women and get your rocks off. Not go on a date with a coworker!" Nat said, exasperated. 
Bradley just gaped at her as Penny dropped off two more beers. "I haven't done this in a while. Forgive me for not knowing precisely what you intended for me to do here, Nat," he said with a massive eye roll. 
She turned her nose up at him. "You're forgiven. But you need to give me your phone," she said, holding out her hand. 
"For what?" he asked skeptically.
"Just gimme."
Bradley handed it to her and she entered his passcode from memory. "Just don't order anything on my Amazon account, okay? I like my Hawaiian shirts just fine, and I donated all the shit you charged to my credit card last time."
"I'm not ordering you new clothes," she scoffed, tapping away on his screen. "I'm solving all your problems. Now look at me and smile."
Bradley glared at her instead as she snapped a few photos. "These look terrible," she mumbled under her breath as she switched to her own phone. "I have one where you look halfway decent... oh, here it is."
Then she was back on his phone again, and he just gave up trying to understand half of what she did when she wasn't in the air with him.
"Nat, I just don't know that I'll ever get serious with anyone again. Meredith kind of ruined that for me."
Nat was scrolling along on his phone as she said, "Meredith was a flaming asshat. I never liked her. The best thing she ever did was get pregnant with Noah and then dump you."
Bradley was back to cradling his head in his hand. He did not like thinking about the fact that his ex bailed on him and their son when he was just a few months old. It made him feel sick. And now he was partening alone, which was harder than anything he had ever done. 
"Shit," Bradley said, checking his watch. "I need to pick Noah up from daycare. Give me my phone," he said before finishing the last sip of his beer.
"I'm not done yet," Nat mumbled, a frightening grin creeping across her face. "Just one more minute."
Bradley thought about texting Rebel and canceling their tentative coffee date. Nat was probably right about dating another aviator. He didn't even know her actual first name, and she only ever called Bradley Rooster. What the hell kind of weird date would that be like? Talking Super Hornet specs? Comparing tales of punching out and parachute deployments?
He listened to a rapid string of alerts from his phone. "Is someone texting me?" he asked, reaching for his phone. "That's a lot of alerts. Is it Noah's daycare?"
But Nat was holding his phone tight and grinning. "Not texts. Women. Women who think you are cute and like your dating profile."
His eyes went wide. "What the fuck did you do?" he asked, his voice deadly calm. 
"Got you about ten dates if you want them. You're welcome," she said, handing his phone back to him. 
He scrolled through all of the profiles on his screen. "What am I looking at exactly?"
"Well, here's your profile. I used the only decent photos of you in existence. And that's your bio."
Bradley squinted at the screen. "All it says is that I'm 36, a naval aviator, and I like working out. And I have golden retriever energy? What the hell does that mean?"
"It means you're energetic. They'll take that to mean in the bedroom."
"Jesus, Nat. Shouldn't I disclose important things? Like the fact that I'm a dad?"
She shook her head. "Not yet. That's second date material. They are going to want to size you up and see if you're a daddy before they need to know that you're a dad."
He shoved his phone in his pocket as he stood. "I don't have time for this," he grunted, pulling out his wallet and waving at Penny. "If I don't find a babysitter, none of this is going to make any difference anyway."
Penny took his credit card and then paused. "You need a babysitter for Noah? Mav and I can watch him if you need a break, you know that, right?"
Bradley sighed. "Thanks Pen. Yeah, I know that. I'm just looking for something a little more regular. Gonna try dating again," he said, glaring at Nat out of the corner of his eye. 
"I might know someone who would be interested," Penny said, handing the card back to Bradley. "She's a student in her early twenties, I guess. Really smart and seems sweet. Noah would probably like her. She's in classes during the day, but she was looking to babysit at night."
"How do you know her?" Bradley asked, already hesitant to leave his kid alone with a stranger. 
"She's renting a house on my street. I ran into her a few times, and we got to talking. She fed Luna, watered my plants, and got the mail when I took Amelia sailing."
Nat placed her hand on his arm. "I know this is a big step, but you could meet her first before you offer her the job."
Bradley stroked his mustache. "Any chance she would come over and meet me and Noah? So I can make sure she's not creepy?" he asked Penny.
Penny just laughed. "She's not creepy. How about I give her your number if she says she's interested in watching Noah."
"Sounds good," Bradley replied quickly, barely listening to Penny now. "I need to go pick him up. Bye, Nat."
"Don't forget to swipe through all your matches!" she called after him. 
He just waved and made his way to his Bronco. Bradley always felt like he was running all over the place. As much as it bothered him to take Noah to daycare on a Saturday, he felt like he was losing his grip on his life. His friends rarely ever remembered to invite him to the Hard Deck, correctly assuming he wouldn't be able to go. But it would still be nice to be invited. 
Everything felt impossible on his own. He wasn't getting enough sleep. As soon as Noah went to bed, it was a race to try to get every chore finished. Then he had to wake up an hour earlier to insure he had time to get Noah ready and dropped off at daycare on time. Every day was a damn marathon, and he really wished he could get some help.
He would never ever admit it to Nat, but he was lonely. Just the idea of getting to spend an evening eating dinner with a woman practically had him popping a boner. Having the chance to get to know someone again, get to have sex again? He couldn't think about it too long. He'd been spending so much time with his right hand and his imagination. 
As he pulled into the daycare parking lot, he sighed. This was the reason he had forfeited dating. His son. His adorable, perfect son. 
"Ready to go?" he asked, and Noach climbed up into his arms. 
"Yep, daddy," he said, and Bradley carried him out after thanking the daycare staff. 
"Let's get home and eat dinner," Bradley said, pushing Noah's dark curls away from his forehead and kissing him.
And this was the reason Bradley would only ever consider dating someone who liked kids and didn't mind dating a single dad. In spite of the daycare schedule, and the exhaustion and loneliness, Noah was his top priority. 
-------------------------
You were just getting back from class and unloading your books from your car when you saw Penny waving to you from her mailbox. As soon as you waved awkwardly with your arms full, she was heading your way.
"Hey, Penny," you said as she walked up your driveway.
"I wanted to chat for a minute. Is it a bad time?" she asked, eyeing up everything in your arms.
You nodded toward the house. "Come inside so I can set everything down."
She followed you in, already going on about someone named Bradley. "He's sweet, and he has an adorable three year old son named Noah. They are looking for a reliable sitter, and I know you mentioned an interest."
"Oh," you replied, dumping everything onto your couch. "This Bradley guy? He's not creepy or anything, right?"
Penny laughed. "He asked the same about you. He's very hesitant to let a stranger watch Noah, but I told him I'd give you his number if you wanted to contact him. Maybe you could just go meet them one day. He's not creepy. He works with Pete. And I swear Noah is irresistable."
You sighed. You really needed some extra income. And you loved kids. And you'd probably be able to study after Noah went to bed for the night. As long as this Bradley wasn't giving off weird vibes, you'd probably want the job.
"Okay, I'll take his number," you said, and soon you were adding Bradley Bradshaw to your contacts. "Thanks, Penny. Hopefully this will work out."
You got lost in your research for the rest of the day on Saturday, and purposely avoided returning texts from Greyson. He only wanted to see you when you were too busy, and he never wanted to see you when you had time for him.
"He's being a douchebag," you whispered as you scrolled through the idiotic things he was sending you. 
Then you opened a new conversation and typed out a draft to this Bradley guy.
Hi, I got your number from Penny Benjamin. She told me you're looking for a reliable babysitter. Any chance you have some free time so I can meet you and your son?
It was late, so you decided to let it sit in your drafts until the following morning. But apparently it wasn't too late for Greyson, who was now asking if you wanted him to send you a dick pic. 
You switched your phone to do not disturb mode after telling him that you would really appreciate it if he didn't send you one. Then you went to bed and dozed off fantasizing about dating a guy who acted like an adult. 
It was so late when you woke up, you decided to skip breakfast and just make yourself lunch. When you switched your phone back to receive messages, you were flooded with a bunch, mostly from Greyson. Luckily there was no dick pic to speak of, but he'd sent you a bunch of nonsense while he was probably drunk or high. 
Then you noticed the draft to Bradley Bradshaw, so you hit send on that one. You had a reply from him before you were even done making a sandwich.
Bradley Bradshaw: Yes, I am looking for a sitter for my son Noah. Penny highly recommended you. I can make time to meet you whenever you are free. Just to be clear, I want to make sure Noah and I are both comfortable around you before proceeding. 
You rolled your eyes. A grown adult man should not be as concerned about you as you should be about him. But, you could see where he was coming from about the prospect of letting a stranger stay with his son. So you replied and started eating your sandwich.
I could stop by this evening to meet you both if you're free.
He wrote back quickly again.
Bradley Bradshaw: That would be great. Anytime after 4. I'll attach my address.
If this guy was creepy or if his son was weird, Penny was going to be hearing about it for the rest of the year.
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Bradley was just cooking dinner while Noah sat in his high chair coloring, when he heard his doorbell ring. "That might be your potential babysitter, bub," Bradley told him, kissing the top of his head as he grabbed a dish towel and headed for the front door while drying his hands.
But Bradley almost dropped the towel when he opened the door and got a look at you. As your wide eyes drifted up his body and landed on his face, you smiled up at him. 
"Mr. Bradshaw?"
You were stunning. Beautiful, and so fucking young. He swallowed against the saliva pooling in his mouth. Oh shit. 
"Uh, yeah. Hi," he managed, moving out of the doorway so you could step past him and into the living room. "Thanks for coming."
"No problem," you said with a shrug. "I'm looking forward to meeting Noah." You brushed past Bradley, and he closed his eyes. Your lip gloss was distractingly shiny. You smelled like beach grass or wildflowers. You looked like you were barely old enough to drink. 
"He's in the kitchen," Bradley rasped, trying to pull himself together. "Back this way."
You followed Bradley through the house, and as soon as you saw his son sitting in the high chair, you went right to him.
"Hey, Noah! What are you coloring?"
"Dinosaurs," Noah told you, holding out a pink crayon. 
"Cool. I love pink dinosaurs," you replied, starting to color a pterodactyl on the page next to the one he was working on.
"Me too. I like pink and blue dinosaurs the best," he replied. 
Bradley watched you interacting with Noah. You seemed sweet, coloring each dinosaur the color he requested. When Noah mispronounced your name, you just laughed and told him he could call you that. 
When you bent down to retrieve a yellow crayon as it rolled across the floor, Bradley got an excellent view of the backs of your bare thighs as your sundress rode up. He dropped the spatula into the pan, nearly burning himself. He was also nearly burning his dinner.
"Shit," he mumbled as you turned to smile at him before handing the crayon back to Noah. 
"What else do you like to do? Besides color?" you asked. 
Noah started telling you all about drawing with chalk and playing with bubbles outside. "I like snacks and movies. And hiking."
Bradley laughed. "By hiking he means walking around the block if I make it home from work before it's dark out."
"Oh," you said. "I can take you on a hike one day, Noah. I like hiking around the block, too. Maybe we can collect some things like rocks and leaves." 
Bradley listened to Noah tell you about some particularly good rocks he had found last week, and you somehow responded in just the right way.
"You're in the navy?" you eventually asked Bradley, shrugging out of your denim jacket in the hot kitchen, giving Bradley a view of even more of your flawless skin. "Like Pete?"
He cleared his throat, mixing everything in the pan on the stove. "Yeah, I work with him. I'm an aviator."
"Do you want me to call you by your rank? Instead of Mr. Bradshaw?" 
Bradley had to press his lips together, a little scared to know what hearing you call him Lieutenant Bradshaw would do to him. "You can just call me Bradley."
"Okay, Bradley," you said, and unfortunately that did something to him too. "You've got a cute kid. I think Noah and I could have a lot of fun together."
"How old are you?" The words were out of Bradley's mouth before he could rethink them. He almost sounded accusatory, but really he needed to know how bad it was that he couldn't stop looking at your legs.
"Twenty-four," you replied casually. 
Jesus. He was twelve years older than you. But you looked even younger than that. Sweet. Too innocent. 
"I'm in grad school for nursing," you continued. "I'm certified in CPR, and I can treat injuries. I know how to swim. I'm free every day starting at 4. You can run a background check on me if you want to."
Noah looked up at you and asked if you wanted to build blocks with him, and Bradley knew he already felt comfortable enough to leave his son with you while he went on a date with Rebel. 
He could feel his phone vibrating in his pocket. He hadn't taken the time to figure out how to use the dating app that Nat installed, and he was being inundated with matches and messages. He also hadn't given Rebel, whose first name was Grace, a solid answer about when he could get coffee with her.
But for some reason, in spite of the laundry list of women from the app who were interested in going on a date with him, he couldn't take his eyes off of you. 
"Do you want to stay for dinner?" Bradley asked as you built a block tower with Noah on the high chair tray. 
"Oh, no. That's nice of you to ask, but I don't want to crash your meal," you told him over your shoulder. "Here, put this little block on the top. Let's see if we can make it stay," you told Noah, keeping your hands around the sides of the tower until he successfully set down the last piece. Then you tossed your hands into the air and cheered.
Noah turned and looked at you in surprise and you just laughed. "You're good at coloring and blocks?" He just giggled, and soon you were both knocking down the tower and starting over. 
As Bradley scraped his half burned dinner onto a plate, he felt a little disappointed that you were grabbing your jacket and getting ready to leave. Noah looked a little sad, too. 
"Well," Bradley told you, watching you gracefully shrug into your jacket, "you're hired if you think you can put up with the two of us."
You laughed and took a step closer to him. "Noah? He seems like an angel. You on the other hand?"
Bradley's eyes went wide, and you just laughed harder. 
"Only kidding! I'm sure I'll be able to put up with both of you if you think you can put up with me."
You were young and beautiful, and for some reason Bradley wanted to feed you dinner, even though the food he made looked barely edible. 
"I don't think that will be a problem."
---------------------------
I hope you enjoy your Daddy Rooster and babysitter fic @beyondthesefourwalls !!
PART 2
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cringe-but-proud · 5 months
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Hello! I Hope You’re having a wonderful day/night. I was wondering if you can do a Wonka (2023) x reader where the reader is a show girl and is in love with Willy Wonka. And the reader works as a showgirl for slugworth (to Yk promote his chocolates). But reader and Willy falls for each other and it’s a whole forbidden love type thing since readers boss hates wonka.
Hello! Thanks so much for the request!! Gotta love the forbidden lovers trope (probably one of my favs tbh).
Willy Wonka x Showgirl!Reader (Wonka 2023)
Warnings!!!: Fem!reader, cursing (literally once, I'm pretty sure)
A/n: Baby's first request + Baby's first time posting fanfiction (AJGSHSHEJJXHDJDJ) Hope it's not awful.
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Sometimes you wondered why you ever agreed to this job.
Being a showgirl wasn't as easy as a lot of people seemed to think it was.
Every other weekend, you performed at the local theatre to promote Mr. Slugworth's infamous chocolate. Two shows on Friday, two shows on Saturday.
Sounds easy enough. But, Mr. Slugworth insisted that no two shows could be the same.
Which meant that everyday you weren't performing, you were learning a new song and new choreography for your next performance. Which got very tiring very quickly.
Tonight was a particularly bad night. You were barely halfway through your show and already wanted to just collapse in the middle of the stage and sleep. Your costume felt tight, there was hardly anyone in the crowd, and your face hurt from how much you were smiling.
You had just finished your third number when the theatre doors opened. A young man walked through the doors. You recognized him from an incident in which he made your boss float through the air.
You briefly looked at him before going into your fourth number.
To your surprise, the man chose to sit right in the middle of the first row. Right in front of you. Now that he was closer you could see that he was actually pretty handsome. Dark brown curls that framed his face well and beautiful eyes that seemed to watch you in utter amazement...
You had to look away.
At the end of your performance, the man cheered loudly. Full on cheered, despite everyone else in the theatre simply clapping quietly.
He interested you with his sparkly eyes and bright smile. But, you knew you couldn't be interested. Your boss absolutely despised this guy. So, he wasn't cute and you weren't interested. That was that.
You were leaving the building through the back exit, happy to finally be out of your costume and headed home, when-
"Hi, there!"
"Ah!" You were startled by the sudden and enthusiastic greeting of... The guy you definitely didn't think was cute.
You sighed, regaining your composure after he had frightened you. "Hello." You said back simply.
"Sorry if I startled you there! I just wanted to compliment you." He said with a smile that for sure didn't make you want to swoon. "You are the most incredible singer that I've ever heard."
You couldn't help but feel flattered. "Thank y-"
"And you're an amazing dancer."
"Tha-"
"How do you even manage to dance in those tall, fancy heels?"
"I-"
"And isn't it strange to be taller than you usually are when you wear heels? Does that bother you at all?
You paused, making sure he was done talking before speaking again. "I guess being taller than usual would be strange at first. But, I'm used to wearing heels. So, being tall isn't weird for me."
"Like a giraffe." He said.
"Wha-"
"I'm Willy. Willy Wonka." He stuck his hand out.
You paused for a moment. Mr. Slugworth definitely wouldn't like the fact that you were talking to him... But, he wasn't here right now.
"I'm Y/n."
These little post-show conversations became something you looked forward to.
It was every Saturday, after your last performance of the night. He'd always be right outside the back exit waiting for you. Talking to him was always thrilling. Your heart beat a little faster whenever you were around him, breaking the rules... And maybe it was also because you thought he was cute.
You couldn't lie, over time, you'd grown to like him. And based on all of the lingering gazes and soft smiles he'd given you, you were pretty sure he liked you as well.
One day, you were backstage, looking into the mirror as you put on your makeup. You glanced up and in the reflection of the mirror was your boss, Mr. Slugworth.
This couldn't be good.
You turned around to face him. "Hello, Sir." You forced a polite smile.
"Yes, hello." He said with narrowed eyes. There was a brief moment of silence which you decided to fill.
"Did you want to talk to me about something?" You said, hoping the innocent head tilt you gave him was convincing.
"I know what you're doing." He said, ignoring your previous question.
Shit.
"One of my associates told me that they saw you and Mr. Wonka meeting behind this theatre every night."
You stayed silent. You knew you were guilty and you knew you probably couldn't talk your way out of this.
Mr. Slugworth continued. "I don't want an explanation or excuse from you. I just want you to agree to never speak with him again."
"What?!" You were shocked. He couldn't do this! He couldn't just tell you to stop talking to someone outside of work! He didn't have that power!...
Except, he kind of did. You knew how Mr. Slugworth was and you knew he wouldn't hesitate to fire you over something like this.
And that's why you agreed.
That night you left the theatre through the back exit like you always did. But, tonight you walked right past Willy.
"You were incredible tonight! I- Where are you going?"
You ignored him and kept walking. To your surprise, he began to follow you.
"You look sort of down.. Is something wrong? You can talk to me about it. I'm sure I can make you feel better!" He said as he continued to follow you.
He continued to try talking to you, and you continued to ignore him. He ended up following you all the way to your doorstep.
"Y/n? If it's something I did to upset you, I'm really sorry."
You took a deep breath and turned around, looking around to make sure no one was watching before you grabbed him and yanked him into your house.
As soon as he was in your house he looked around. "I like your curtains." He said.
"I'm not mad at you." You told him.
He smiled. "That's good to hear. I was already thinking of an apology chocolate recipe for you and it would've been-"
"Willy." He went quiet when you said his name. "Mr. Slugworth doesn't want me talking to you ever again."
"Oh?" He thought for a moment. "Well, that doesn't seem fair."
"Yeah. It isn't fair."
"Well, then don't listen to him." He made everything sound so simple. So easy. You wish you could see the world how he saw it.
"I can't just not listen to him. He's my boss." You looked at the ground. "And I need this job..."
Willy crossed his arms. He furrowed his brows in thought for a moment. "Huh."
...
"Huh." He looked back to you.
"What?"
"Why don't you just work for me?" He suggested with a smile. You were about to protest, but decided to hear him out. "Yeah! You can quit working for Slugworth, then you and I can update your act, and you can start promoting Wonka's Chocolate!" He said, excitedly pacing your small living area.
You thought over the plan. "Huh." You chuckled. "That's... Do you think that could work?"
He walked over to stand right in front of you, looking into your eyes. "I know it could work."
You shook your head with a smile. You were probably gonna regret this. "Let's do it."
"Yes!" Willy clapped and then stuck out his hand so that the two of you could shake on it. Instead of shaking his hand, you sort of let your emotions take control.
You grabbed his face and kissed him. After a moment you pulled away, a bit shocked at your own actions. You searched his face for any signs of discomfort and were met with a smile.
"That was better than a handshake." He said with a chuckle before leaning forward to capture your lips in a soft kiss.
Ok, you probably weren't gonna regret this.
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Hey so i have been watching way of the house husband lately so can i ask for some girls with a house husband s/o thanks anyway love too read your stuff
(Genshin Impact/GFL) Sara, Eula, Rosaria, Springfield, AK-15, RO635, and UMP9 with a House Husband S/O
I feel the masculine urge to love and adore my wife. "Today's the day...we got to take your balls away."
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Sara honestly doesn't know how to react to her S/O lovingly taking care of things back at home.
She's used to servants and whatnot doing so, but not her own lover.
It made her feel...weird.
(S/O) "Hey, welcome home, Sara! Dinner's about to be ready!"
(Sara) "...T-Thank you."
Sara never fails to be flustered seeing such basic acts of kindness. It made her feel like a normal person rather than a military general.
But she did not hate it, not by a longshot.
She also makes sure to not let any word of her home life. Sure there were security reasons but honestly? It'd just make her feel embarassed.
Here stood Inazuma's general, the Raiden Shogun's second in command, getting all blushy because her S/O made her a cute dinner.
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Eula is also in the camp of "not used to being treated with love."
Again, she was used to servants doing these sorts of menial tasks, but S/O did not seem to mind.
It wasn't entirely strange, since gender roles for these kinds of things was quite the old way of thinking, even for the Lawrence clan.
But it weirded her out more because she just wasn't used to having meals made for her, or any type of thing done for her.
(Eula) "Dinner is great tonight, thank you S/O. Remind me to cook for you as well, lest I have my ven...-"
She gives up halfway, seeing S/O's confused expression.
(Eula) "N-Nevermind. Thank you."
She doesn't mention this to others mostly for her pride.
But it was also she wanted this part of S/O to herself.
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(Rosaria) "Thanks."
Rosaria had not felt this type of love in a very long time.
She knew for a fact she would never be used to S/O being at home for her.
But she was grateful. S/O was always there at night to provide her a meal and bandaging for her wounds.
They were concerned of course, but she wasn't bombarded by questions of what she was doing or why she was injured.
It was less being submissive and more S/O trusting her. And that meant more than any meal cooked to Rosaria.
The least she could do is return that trust, even if it made her feel anxious.
She still encourages S/O to get out and do some of their own hobbies as well. The last thing she wants to do is confine them. This is the city of freedom after all.
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POWER COUPLE
Admittedly, Springfield is a stay-at-home kind of wife herself, so her and S/O get along swimmingly!
The two work with the other T-Dolls at the cafe and are jokingly teased about being an old couple already with the way they act.
The two are always seen together smiling, their homely natures working to great effect at making others relax in their presence.
(Springfield) "Hm, am I cooking dinner tonight S/O, or are you?"
It's a constant battle at home of who will spoil the other, and the two unfortunately do not care about their PDA antics, meaning other T-Dolls and humans will have to suffer in their lovey-dovey presence.
May god (or the Omnissiah) have mercy on anyone in their vicinity, because Springfield and S/O certainly won't.
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15 stopped asking S/O why they did the things they did a long time ago.
She did not need to eat, the Dorms were usually pretty clean, and she truly had no preference for a bath, considering T-Dolls were not made for water.
Yet S/O offered it anyways. It was clear they were being polite, and it was appreciated.
(AK-15) "...S/O, your actions make no sense to me at all. But...it is appreciated. If it would make you happy, I suppose I can accept at least a meal."
15 was the type of woman to not like anything pointless being done, but she could tell there was a purpose with what S/O was doing.
They loved her. That was reason enough.
She could at least understand that.
And...it made her happy. She didn't even know she could blush before S/O offered her a meal for the first time.
But her death glare comes back if anyone remotely teases her or S/O.
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Usually, RO was the type to bend over backwards for her subordinates and higher ups.
So it was a nice change of pace having someone do so for her. Something RO is eternally grateful for.
She makes sure to always thank them and appreciate their company as her stress melts away the moment she comes into a hug from S/O.
(S/O) "Busy day again?"
(RO635) "SOPMOD found the strangest place to stick her head in, and a horde of animals escaped the rescue station..."
(S/O) "The usual then?'
(RO635) "The fact this is "usual" should really say something about how we operate as a base..."
No living soul ever knows about her with S/O, as her usual professional demeanor completely vanishes the second she steps through their door.
Unfortunately for her, T-Dolls are not really "alive" by a technical definition.
Which is to say, M16A1 and SOPMOD tease the absolute hell out of her and S/O.
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(UMP9) "Honey, I'm home!~"
UMP9 completely embraces S/O's tendency to be a stay-at-home.
One of her desires was to have a real family anyway, so this was just one step ahead!
She glomps her S/O everytime she comes back from a mission, ready to accept a meal, a bath, and S/O.
UMP9 makes sure to give back in the relationship so they know it isn't one sided.
She also could not care less of who sees them together acting like the most stereotypical couple.
She loves every single second of it.
(UMP9) "Do you think we can order an apron to really get the effect going, S/O? I'm sure the Commander wouldn't mind ordering one for me!"
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skiller0dani · 1 year
Text
The Noble House of Gaunt | Ominis Gaunt
M A S T E R L I S T Other Masterlist Harry Potter Masterlist
angst | slytherin!reader requests info w.c | 4.9k summary | An unexpected visit proves to Ominis that as long as you, a Muggle, love him...you'll never be safe.
Alexa play Ready to Run by One Direction & All I want by Kodaline.
My Aunt Tara passed away from cancer in December, so I chose to name your characters Aunt after her. Love you Aunt Tara.
Part 2 | Part 3 | Blurb
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Ominis always knew that being with you would put you in danger, with him being who he is and you being who you are. Blood status has never mattered to him, he knew you were a Muggle before you presented a magical ability when you turned 15. He knew you knew nothing of magic before coming to Hogwarts, and he didn't care. He had every intention of keeping his distance when you were sorted into Slytherin- as he did with most people. Ominis has a reputation among most of the students who attend Hogwarts. They knew who his family was, knew that they did to Muggles. He was ashamed to have their name.
The only two people who didn't flinch away from Ominis in the hallway's or duck into empty corridors to avoid him were Sebastian and Anne. The siblings he desperately wished he had instead of the family he was stuck with. It was halfway through First Year when Ominis stopped going home, and yes he had received more than a few Howlers from his Mother as a result. By the time they were in Second Year, most Slytherin students had dropped all misconceptions of Ominis, the rest of the school remained wary however. He didn't blame them.
Ominis had planned on keeping his friend circle fairly small, he wanted to pass through Hogwarts as small and unseen as he could. He spent most of his time with the Twins, and Imelda occasionally. He spent 4 uneventful years at Hogwarts, save for Anne getting cursed by the Goblins. As soon as Sebastian lost his Twin, he became obsessed with curing her. His obsession was slowly leading him towards the Dark Arts and down a path Ominis wasn't sure he could follow. His already small social circle seemed to keep shrinking and there was nothing he could do about it. It was a maddeningly helpless feeling, although not one Ominis was unfamiliar with.
Being born blind meant Ominis was born at a disadvantage. He was behind most of his pupils and that meant he had to work doubly hard to catch up. Learn how to do things differently, and it was important for Ominis to be independent. He was determined to figure things out on his own, he was nobodies burden and often rejected help if it was offered to him. Maybe it's because he's stubborn, maybe it's because Ominis has a hard time trusting other people. His Mother drug him all across England in search for anything that could cure his blindness, but time and time again his Mother was told there was nothing that could be done for him. That perhaps if his family hadn't partaken in incestuous habits, then Ominis wouldn't have been born with this defect. Hearing that made Ominis hate his family all the more, he's blind and they are to blame. Paying the price for a choice he never made, it wasn't fair.
By the time Ominis turned 11, he had received his Hogwarts letter and went to get his very own wand. Apparently the wand that chose Ominis had been sitting on the shelf untouched for many many years, harshly rejecting any that attempted to buy it. It was meant for you boy Mr. Ollivander had told him. The wand chooses the wizard, that much Ominis knew. His wand was different, even Mr. Ollivander seemed in awe of the bond between Ominis and his wand. His wand became his eyes, it helped him navigate the world, and every spell he cast would hit its target. The wand would help correct Ominis's aim, would pulse if he were about to bump into something. His wand began to feel like a friend. Ominis was very excited about his wand, his Mother was less so. She wanted her son to be perfect, not blind with a wonky wand.
Going to Hogwarts felt like a blessing, he could spend 10 beautiful months away from his family. Luckily Ominis's older siblings had all graduated by the time he started Hogwarts, he only shared one year with his older brother Marvolo who was a 7th Year when Ominis started. After he graduated Ominis knew he was finally free, and for once he felt like happiness was finally possible despite the horrors he endured during his childhood. Then he met you, and so many things seemed to fall into place.
He originally met you through Sebastian, who you'd beaten in a duel on your first day. He was rather prickly when you first met Ominis, but Sebastian reassured you that Ominis is like that with everybody. You made it a personal goal to break down Ominis's walls, his heart was more well guarded than Azkaban. But unfortunately for him you were never one to back down from a challenge, and you knew there was something about Ominis you were helplessly drawn to. You spent nearly every waking moment with Ominis, well when you weren't running around crypts with Sebastian.
You spent a lot of time reading to Ominis, and while he didn't need your help reading he liked the sound of your voice. He read braille books, and Madam Scribner had been more than gracious enough to order over 150 braille books specifically for Ominis, seeing as he was the only blind student attending Hogwarts. But sitting down in front of the fireplace with you while the soft sound of your voice read whatever book you were reading aloud was addicting. Sitting close enough to smell the scent of your shampoo, the strawberry tarts you so loved, the smell of old parchment as you flipped through the book. Ominis was developing feelings for you before he had a chance to stop it. By the end of 5th Year, the two of you were inseparable.
Then he learned you were Muggle born, though it wasn't something you were trying to hide. You never mentioned it before because nobody had ever asked. You lived with your Muggle Aunt before coming to Hogwarts, both of your parents had been killed when you were a small child. Perhaps that's why you bonded with Sebastian so quickly. To say that Ominis was panicked when he learned of your blood status was an understatement. What if his parents found out he was dating a Muggle? What would they do to you? He couldn't care less what they thought of him, what they did to him. All that mattered to Ominis was you.
"You sure you're okay?" You ask Ominis again, bumping your nose tenderly against his. Something you learned about Ominis after you started dating him is that physical touch is very important to him. He always has to be touching you in some way, holding your hand, pressing his forehead against yours, light kisses when nobody is looking. Besides his super sonic hearing, touch was one of his strongest senses. It's how he navigated the world, through touch and after you got together you'd allowed Ominis to run his hands over your body. His fingers gently feeling out the shape of your face, down your arms and across your back. Goosebumps had risen on your skin, and your face flushed hotly. If Ominis could see, then he would have known where your thoughts traveled to as he innocently felt the shape of your body. All he was trying to do was get a sense of what you looked like, to picture every curve of your body the best he could. You were head over heels for him, no doubt about it.
"Yes of course, couldn't sleep last night is all." Ominis answered, his chest warming as you gently nuzzled your nose against his. You leaned forward to tenderly press your lips against his, your hand squeezing his before you stood from the couch. The common room was bustling with people, Ominis was a tad overwhelmed with so much noise. Large groups of people are when Ominis struggled the most, his hearing was very sensitive and listening to so many people talk at once was sometimes disorienting. Which is why he spent so much time tucked away in the abandoned corners of the castle, where everything was soft and quiet. He could no longer feel the heat of your body pressed against his, you hadn't even said goodbye yet and he already missed you.
"Gotta go meet Imelda, wants my help preparing for Quidditch tryouts- y'know now that Black has finally lifted the ban. See you at lunch!" You explain, pressing a kiss to the top of his head before he hears your footsteps heading towards the stairs. Ominis sat on the couch, nervously fiddling with his fingers before he finally stood. He thought about finding Sebastian, but he wasn't quite ready to forgive him for the events of last year. Anne is still utterly devastated, and Ominis felt a pang of guilt when he thought of Anne. He had gone to check on her during the break between 5th Year and 6th Year, and she had confessed to having feelings for Ominis. He remembered his cheeks burning all the way to the tips of his ears as he stammered out that he'd been dating you for a few weeks already. He'll never forget how Anne deflated, how he had caused it. He felt awful about it for days.
Instead of looking for his used to be best friend, he decided to take a stroll along the castle grounds. It was nice outside, you had told him. The sun was out and the breeze was light and warm, and sometimes being outside helped clear his head. You still hung out with Sebastian, you cared for him which worried Ominis at first. He never thought of himself as the jealous type but seeing you spend so much time with Sebastian genuinely worried him. Until you reassured him with a kiss that Sebastian was practically your brother. You were an only child, had no extended family beyond your Aunt Tara. Ominis didn't like to admit it, but he often felt inadequate compared to other guys. He had a defect...he was defective. He knew you'd scold him heavily for ever thinking of himself in that way but its true. Sebastian had described you to him during 5th Year, and Ominis so wished he could see your radiant beauty he'd heard so much about from other people.
You usually reminded him that he could see a beauty in you that nobody else could see. Told him he could see into your soul, that he could see what truly mattered. That usually made him feel better.
Ominis stepped through the front doors, thanking the person who had held the doors open for him. It was easy for other people to assume that Ominis couldn't do basic things, like figuring out how to open a door. He reveled in proving them wrong. He felt the warm breeze you described to him, and would respond with a smile as people greeted him. The rest of the school had warmed up to Ominis considerably after discovering that he was dating the 'Hero of Hogwarts'. You made every part of his life better. Although it was slightly irritating having to converse with people so often, they felt the need to incessantly talk to him. He wasn't trying to be rude, he just preferred to keep to himself. Oh come on Ominis, don't be like that. He can hear your gentle scolding in his head, so he continued to smile politely every time someone said hello.
"Hello Ominis dear, I've been looking everywhere for you." A smooth voice spoke calmly from in front of him, and Ominis prickled at the sound of her voice.
"M-Mother?" He stammered, he suddenly felt very small and helpless. The hand holding up his wand dropped limply at his side, his entire body was shaking from head to toe. Why is she here? What could she possibly want? There's no way she found out about you...no this can't be happening.
"It's been a long time Ominis, you wouldn't be avoiding us would you? Your own family..." Her voice was worryingly calm, it put Ominis on edge. He heard the click of her heels as she took a few slow steps forward, her cold finger running along his jaw.
"I've heard some troublesome rumors Ominis, troublesome enough to warrant a visit." The venom was beginning to seep into her tone now, but she was still far too calm. There must be people around.
"I've heard you've found a special someone, and you didn't tell your own Mother. Ominis I thought I raised you better than that...consorting with a Mudblood. You haven't mated with it have you?" She asked, tutting at him. Her finger turned his jaw up, forcing him to face her. She stared into his glassy eyes, fogged over and covering the beautiful blue of his eyes. She could see the fear in his face, could feel his body trembling. It brought a smile to her face. Ominis's chest tightened, she is here because of you. If Mother is here, then so is Father and likely so is Marvolo. He had always done all he could to please his parents, he was just as evil as they were- if not worse. His other siblings were likely off causing strife and misery elsewhere.
"I...we-" Ominis stammered, his voice shaking. He needed to somehow convince her the rumors were wrong. He wasn't dating a Muggle, no no the rumors were wrong. That's the only hope you have of being safe. "No, no I'm not seeing anyone."
"Don't lie to me you pathetic child." She snapped, her nails digging into the skin of his neck. He's sure her other hand is curled around her wand, the spell he's the most afraid of dancing on the tip of her tongue.
Crucio.
His heart drops into his stomach, he loves you. That was incredibly selfish of him, he put you in danger every time he spoke to you, held you, kissed you and yet he continued to do it. He couldn't stay away, you made his life so much better. He should have stayed away.
"The Mudblood has corrupted you Ominis, did you not take pleasure in their screams? You remember don't you Ominis, what it felt like to hurt them." She sneered, a lightness in her tone as she spoke of the torture Ominis tries to desperately to forget. His jaw clenches and his palms twitch every time she calls you a Mudblood. He could never see you that way. His Mother is going to hurt you, and it's because of him. All of this is Ominis's fault.
"As fun as it is to catch up, I'm here to warn you dear. In 5 days I will return with your Father and your dear brother Marvolo. You have until then to severe all ties to this Mudblood, or we will deal with her ourselves. I don't like you'll approve of our methods of removal." She explained, turning Ominis's blood to ice. Crucio. He can't let that happen to you, he can't. The thought of breaking up with you made him feel nauseous, but the alternative is much much worse. Her hand ran along his cheek, feigning the touch of a loving Mother. She leaned down to press her cold lips to his forehead.
"Don't disappoint me again Ominis, or your precious little Mudblood will pay the price. I do wonder what beautiful screams we can pull from her lips..." She muses before the air changes and she's gone. Ominis slowly crumples to the ground, tears falling from his eyes. Sometimes he thinks it would have been easier if he'd never been born.
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When lunch time came around, you looked around the Great Hall for Ominis but couldn't see him anywhere. You feel a pang of anxiety in your chest as you hesitantly sit with Imelda, your eyes glued to the doors, hoping you'll see him. Ominis is never late, never keeps you waiting. He always meets you when he says he will, always. So the fact that you're nearly halfway through lunch and you still don't see him is making you panic. Imelda eyes you curiously, at first you hated Imelda. She was unbearable and rude to you but once you'd beaten her fastest times she softened. She's become one of your closest friends, as has Poppy. Imelda watches you nervously chew on your cheek, your eyes still searching for him.
"What's wrong with you?" She asks, watching your distracted eyes flicker to her for a second.
"Ominis, he isn't here." You say nervously, forking another bite of mashed potatoes into your mouth.
"I'm sure he's fine. He's smart, and he wouldn't put himself in any danger." She tries her best to reassure you, but you're not really listening. You wait a few more minutes before you're standing from the table and heading back to the common room as fast as you can. You don't know why you're so worried, surely him forgetting this once doesn't mean something bad has happened. He's fine you know he is, and yet your heart will not stop hammering against your ribcage. Your palms are shaking as you push the doors to the common room open, you will tear this entire castle apart to find him if you have to. Ominis is easily the most punctual person you know, never late to classes, turns in assignments on time, and always meets you when he says he will. Always.
You find him sitting in front of the fireplace, his shoulders slumped and traces of dried tears on his cheeks. Your entire body tenses, panic crawling up your neck. Something happened, something bad. Ominis never shuts down like this, and he never shuts you out but now...you feel like a wall has been built between you two. You can't read him as easily as you could before, he's retreating from you and you don't know why. He can hear you before you sit next to him, can smell the sweet scent of the shampoo you use. You always smell like sweets and flowers, he's going to miss that.
"Ominis, my love what's wrong? You didn't meet me for lunch..." You ask hesitantly, reaching for his hand. He doesn't say anything, doesn't turn his head at the sound of your voice like he usually does. Ominis knows that if he speaks, the only thing he will say is going to break your heart- and his own. He has no choice, but he wants to put it off as long as he can. He feels you reaching for his hand and he lets you take it. He wants to feel the warmth of your skin, of your love, until he can't anymore.
"Ominis please talk to me, you're scaring me." You plead, and he can hear the emotion in your voice. You try in vain to keep the tears at bay, but they continue to fall every time you blink. Something really bad happened, you can see how shaken up he is. Please don't push me away you beg in your head, screaming it so loud hoping somehow he will hear it. He won't even move, his gaze downturned and his entire body slumped against the couch. Who did this to him? You feel anger surge through you, somebody hurt him. Somebody did this to him.
"I can't see you anymore." The words are whispered so quietly you almost miss them. But as soon as he says it, he's pulling his hand from your grasp.
Wait, what?
"Ominis..." You trail off, you feel frozen. Your heart is breaking and you can swear you feel the pain of it. He turns his head away from you, building his wall brick by brick, the wall you spent so much time tearing down. You need to know what happened, everything was fine this morning.
"Why?" Your voice sounds so small, so broken, nothing like the strong girl he's come to love. He hates that he's doing this to you, but then Ominis can hear the echoing screams of the Muggle's his family has tortured in his head. Reminding him why he's doing this, why he has to push you away. Why he needs to make sure you stay away.
"I'm better alone, I always have been." Ominis says, keeping his voice void of emotion. Maybe that used to be true, but it isn't anymore. He knows he's going to be lost without you, but he needs to keep you safe. He has to. He stands from the couch, keeping his back turned to you. Ensuring you can't see how broken he is, how much this hurts him too.
"No, I deserve a better explanation than that. There's more to it Ominis, tell me the truth." You plead, voice wavering as tears continue to cascade down your face. He can't tell you, he wants to but he can't. He doesn't want you to be afraid, but more importantly he wants you to stay away from him. If he tells you the truth... you'll try to help him. Try to protect him, you'll stay with him regardless of the danger.
So when you say, "have you found someone else?"
He doesn't deny it, he simply nods. He could never find someone who could compete with you. Nobody on this useless planet could ever come close, but if you believe he's a scumbag who cheated on you then you'll definitely stay away. Which is what will keep you safe. He can hear you gasp, as if he's wounded you. In a way, he has. Your hand clutches your chest, feeling it tighten. You never thought Ominis was capable of...of this. Of hurting you in this way, you trusted him. All this time he's been falling in love with some other girl, holding your hand while thinking of her. You feel sick, so sick you can't stand to be around him any longer. You turn and rush up the stairs to your dorm room, slamming the door shut behind you. Ominis hears you leave and he slumps against the couch again.
He hates himself, and he loves you. Not like it matters anymore.
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The next 5 days were spent with you actively avoiding Ominis whenever you saw him in the common room or hallway. You barely ate, hardly left your dorm except to go to classes. You spent most of your time crying or sleeping. Imelda tried to talk to you, but you always brushed her off. She even tried reaching out to Ominis but got nearly the exact same response. You told her what Ominis said, that there was somebody else but she thinks that's a load of crap. For the last few days, Ominis has been sulking around doing the same thing you were doing. Not eating, not leaving his dorm and going to classes. If there was somebody else, wouldn't he be with her? Not sitting in the common room with a kicked puppy look on his face?
Imelda couldn't even bring herself to be angry with Ominis because anybody with at least 1 working braincell could tell that Ominis most certainly didn't cheat on you. There's more to this, she knows there is and for your sake she wants to find out what's going on. He's never been seen with anybody else, doesn't really have friends except the Twins and he hadn't even been seen with Sebastian lately either...an idea struck Imelda then.
Sebastian!
If anybody could find out what's going on in Ominis's head, it's Sebastian. Last she saw he was heading towards the Library, so Imelda stands and exits the common room, finally leaving Ominis alone. He knows it's nearly time for his wonderful family to drop in and make sure he's taken care of the...problem. So he stands and straightens his cloak and does his best to look like he isn't stuck in the deep pits of depression. If he looks heartbroken they'll know you matter to him, and they'll punish you for it. He hears your cries every time he wanders by your dorm, he knows you never leave the dorm, knows you're barely eating. Its beginning to scare him, he doesn't want you to hurt yourself because you're so heartbroken. Ominis never meant to hurt you, he wished he could tell you that.
Imelda finally found Sebastian tucked away in the upper levels of the Library, sitting near one of the windows with a book he isn't reading in his hand. She quickly makes her way towards him, plopping herself down in one of the chairs next to him before he could protest. One of his brows raised in surprise, his expression apprehensive. Imelda never talks to him.
"Imelda." He says simply, his eyes turning to his book.
"I need your help." She says simply, causing Sebastian to look back up at her, signaling that he's listening.
"Ominis broke up with Y/N, and they're both totally devastated. He said it was because he met someone else but I think he's lying to cover something else up." Imelda rushes out, causing Sebastian to finally put his book down. Sebastian's eyebrows pull together, met someone else? No way.
"Ominis practically hates everybody except for Y/N and Anne so its unlikely that he met someone else. Why do you think I can help?" He asks, he wants to help. He loves Ominis, he's practically Sebastian's brother and you're practically his sister. He cant sit around and do nothing while you're both suffering. But he doesn't think Ominis will want to speak to him right now... not after last year.
"Uh because you're his best friend? Talk to him, please." Imelda asks, her tone pleading. Eventually, Sebastian nods and stands to go find Ominis.
Ominis however is pushing his way out the front doors, making his way through the castle grounds. He isn't sure exactly where his family will meet him, but he's sure it'll be somewhere away from the castle grounds. He continues to walk, his ear straining to hear anything when he hears the familiar sound of someone apparating nearby.
"Hello brother." Marvolo taunted, and Ominis knows Mother and Father are here as well. Ominis's body went rigid, but he did his best to stay calm. As long as he tells them what they want to hear they won't hurt you.
"Marvolo." Ominis's tone is clipped and he hears a chuckle from behind him.
"Come now Ominis, don't be like that." His Father says, his words mirroring your own and causing a pang of pain through his heart. A hand is placed on his shoulder, icy cold.
"Hello dear, have you handled your little problem?" Mother asks, running her hands along his shoulders and he can feel her breath fanning on his neck. She must be leaning close to his ear from behind him.
"Yes Mother I have." Ominis forces his voice to sound certain and unwavering. He can't allow any emotion in his voice or on his face when he talks about you.
"And how do you feel now my darling?" There's that tone again, the tone she only uses when he's said something that makes her happy. When he's being the cruel boy she expects him to be.
"Much better, you were right all along about her." Ominis says simply, feeling sullen and dejected. Her hands cup his face, forcing his head up to look at her.
"Your face looks sunken in dear, have you been well?" His Mother asks, although Ominis knows she doesn't really care.
"Yes Mother, quite." He responds robotically, and it seems to be enough to satisfy her. A groan comes from Marvolo, who's crossed his arms like a pouting child.
"Does that mean we don't get to torture the Mudblood?" He asks, sounding genuinely put off.
"Oh hush now Marvolo, we shall find another for you to play with on our way home. Care to join us Ominis?" His Mother scolds lightly, her tone gentler when she addresses Ominis. He feels his stomach turn.
"No Mother, too many assignments I'm afraid." He says calmly, hoping she accepts his no and lets him go. Please just go.
"Very well, we will continue to check up on you Ominis. To ensure you don't fall pray to weakness." His Mother says, her voice sharp and dangerous at the end. He merely nods and a few moments later they're gone.
"So that's why you did it." Sebastian says from behind Ominis, causing him to jump slightly.
"I don't know what you mean." Ominis says, his tone turning icy. Sebastian knew he wouldn't be happy to see him.
"Ominis, your family threatened Y/N didn't they?" Sebastian questions, causing Ominis to freeze.
"And what of it? I've dealt with it." Ominis snaps.
"What about Y/N?" He asks, and just hearing your name makes Ominis's heart clench.
"What about her? We're over Sebastian, and that will never change. So long as I'm a Gaunt, she will always be in danger. We can never be together, I should have known that." Ominis says bitterly.
"That's not true, if you love her then-"
"Then what Sebastian? Sometimes when you love somebody, you have to make sacrifices. Not like you would know anything about that." Ominis snaps, his shoulders rigid. He turns and makes a beeline for the castle, leaving Sebastian standing in the courtyard.
This was going to be harder than he thought.
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ravenwoodalum · 6 months
Text
on karamelle, why it sucks, and redeeming azteca's reputation.
I just got to Karamelle for the second time, and good lord. I hadn't forgotten how much I hated it, but it hit me like a wall of bricks. And I'm already preparing myself to marathon it and be fucking done questing here for at least a year.
I think it breaks down like this.
Baby's first workers rights movement/sugary-sweet surveillance state Listen. I know this is a game that doesn't allow for player characters to have much individual impact on the in-game narrative. I know we've had to do errands for cops. I know we work for a war criminal. I KNOW there are flaws in the system. But there's something about the way that Karamelle's set up that makes it all feel so. much. worse. And that's the fact that Karamelle has such a stellar reputation within the Spiral before this. The happiest place in the Spiral, the sweetest treats in the Spiral. Everyone seems to fucking love this place. Almost no one outside of those actually working there seem to understand how corrupt it is. And so the YW is talked down to at every turn, like this is their first exposure to a corrupt environment. And sure, maybe it is within, canon. YW gets isekai'd at a very young age and then made into a child soldier, maybe this is actually the first time in canon that they've been introduced to these concepts. But (and this may just be me) it feels really rude to the player -- who might actually have experience with these ideas -- to make them feel like a fucking idiot with the dialogue options. Karamelle's characters just feel rude.
Oh, so the Gobblers were a fatphobic, Roald Dahl type thing from the start. Cool cool cool. Any of you ever read Roald Dahl's book "The Twits"? It's a very unremarkable story all things considered, except for this bit.
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Aside from Roald Dahl's unavoidable history of antisemitism, does this remind you of anything? Honestly, this reminds me of the Gobbblers.
We first meet the Gobblers around level 10 in Wizard City -- creatures driven by consumption. And then we get to Empyrea and hear that the Alphoi -- skinny "civilized" creatures -- can become Gobblers if they eat too much or are unhealthy in their eating habits. Which makes one of our oldest running enemies a loop-around fatphobic thing, ESPECIALLY when we get to them in Karamelle, the home world of the Gobblers. Rosina, especially, just oozes fatphobia and diet culture. The literal vilification of being fat isn't even subtext, it's just text.
The Old One, The Cabal, and what to do when your escape from the world ends up shoving what you were escaping from right back in your face. When I was in sophomore year of college, fall of 2019, I had one of the worst mental health periods of my life. Antisemitism was fucking everywhere, I was always a moment away from a panic attack, and it felt like no one understood. While I'm lucky in the fact that I was able to get an official diagnosis for genetically inherited PTSD, alongside the reassurance that I wasn't fucking crazy, there was a period when I just needed to go home for a moment. So when I was going back to my dorm from the dining hall to make sure all my stuff was ready to go, I opened up tumblr and made a post on a long-gone RP sideblog I had for the Swedish Chef (y'know, from The Muppets? long story), and before I'd even gotten halfway across campus, I'd received threatening and violent messages from someone RPing as Borat, which only got worse when they realized they were talking to an actual Jewish person.
That escape from reality didn't even last five fucking minutes before the horrors I was trying to avoid found me.
Now, Wizard101 has always been a source of comfort for me. I made my account fourteen years ago, and I do not know what my life would look like if I hadn't done that. There are flaws with this game, yes, sure, but over the past five years (since I got a wiz compatible laptop) I've developed a bit of a reliance on it to get me through the horrors. No better form of escapism.
But no art form is free of the horrors.
And Wizard101 has the fucking Cabal and Old One.
The Cabal within the fiction of Wizard101 is a secret, nefarious organization pulling the strings on events across the Spiral, controlling history from the shadows. This term literally originates in antisemitic conspiracy theory, with the term 'cabal' originating from the term for Jewish mysticism, 'kabbalah'. And I promise you, you've heard plenty of applications of this conspiracy theory in real life too. It feeds into the idea that Jews (or 'global elite') control the government, the media, the banks.
And then, we get to the man in control of it all. The Old One. Whether or not this was intended, he's a walking, talking antisemitic caricature. The octopus as a symbol for the mythical Elders of Zion is a longstanding dogwhistle (see attached for a guide to this and many other visual dogwhistles). "Oh, he's based on H.P. Lovecraft-" So he's based on the works of a famous racist and antisemite, cool cool cool.
It's just exhausting, walking through a world that is so clearly modeled after Germany and other parts of eastern Europe, and finding antisemitism around every corner. And even more exhausting considering it's almost impossible to tell if they meant to do it. Antisemitism is so fucking ingrained in the world at this point that I don't actually know what they meant to do here, what they did maliciously or out of ignorance, or if any of it was put in with the purpose of turning it on its head. Over the past few years, it has become glaringly obvious that a lot of people don't realize when they're running across antisemitism, or even taking part in it. Including people I really thought would know better.
Side note. For those of you who know I see Dasein as Jewish, you may be wondering how I balance that out with the antisemitic nature of The Old One, since they share a physical form. I think of it like this. Dasein did not choose The Old One. He did not choose to resemble that, but he can attempt to reclaim it. Dasein's Judaism comes not from the resemblance he holds to the hatred that haunts us, but from the love that keeps us going. He questions authority and longstanding tradition, chooses to do what's right instead of what's expected, and is kind in the face of hatred. He literally makes himself, and a world, out of nothingness. Something out of Nothing. He's so Jewish you guys.
The Spiral's "Worst World Award" goes to... I know we all say "fuck Azteca" pretty often on this website, but I don't think it deserves to be deigned the worst world in Wiz. My main gripe with Azteca is how inaccessible it gets after Xibalba strikes -- the flashing lights aren't exactly photosensitive friendly. Which further lends frustration to my completionist nature, meaning I have to finish all quests, badges, and fishing before I finish the world (making it take forever to finish). Aside from that, there really isn't that much wrong with the world (and if you argue that it sucks because you can't save Azteca, I get it, but some tragedies are inescapable by their very nature). It's a problem of gameplay, versus a problem of plot in the case of Karamelle. And maybe its just because I'm a writer, but problems with plot feel much more egregious. I really do think Karamelle deserves more vitriol than it gets.
G-d, I can't wait to get to Lemuria.
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grandwretch · 1 year
Text
only i must wander
[chapter one] [on AO3]
In the months before Steve's graduation, he and Dustin had something of a routine going on. Every Friday afternoon, Steve would pick Dustin up from Hawkins Middle School and they would drive out to the McDonald's one exit over. They even ordered the same thing every week: A Big Mac for Steve, nuggets for Dustin, two Cokes, and a supersized fry. After driving slowly back to Hawkins they would eat in the arcade parking lot, and when they were done they would either spend the rest of the afternoon trying to kill each other over air hockey or renting shitty science fiction movies. Whichever Dustin wanted, really. 
It wasn't anything like Steve's life had been just six months ago, but he loved every second of it. Even when Dustin was getting mud all over his upholstery and asking too many questions. 
On that particular Friday night, Steve had been late picking Dustin up because Mrs. O'Donnell had stopped him in the hallway on the way out, for the third time this month. Some bullshit about him not "applying" himself, or whatever, and how she didn't "feel it was right" that Steve had passed her class when he'd obviously learned so little. Which was bullshit, Steve thought, because she taught fucking English, which he already spoke, and he'd been pulling solid C's in her class all semester. 
So most of the conversation had been about that, really, with Steve complaining about how every teacher he'd ever had hated him, and Dustin scolding him just as fiercely as any teacher ever had. A typical Friday night. 
Tonight, however, Dustin paused, mid-sentence.
"Are you ever going to tell me why your eyes do that when you're mad?" 
Steve paused, a french fry halfway to his mouth. He looked over at Dustin, who was staring at him from the passenger seat. He was almost used to it, a kid spending every day in the seat next to him instead of Nancy or Tommy, but big, curious eyes still threw him off from time to time. Especially when they came paired with off the wall questions like this. 
"Why do my eyes do what, Dustin?" 
"You know," Dustin said, gesturing to Steve's face with his burger. "When you get mad they go all black and stuff. Kinda like El's do when she uses her powers, but you don't--" Steve had never seen Eleven actually fight, but he had seen her do small tricks now and again for the boys. Her eyes were more like pits, her entire face wrinkling around the deep depths. Steve felt his stomach churn just thinking about the same in his own face. 
The reflection in the rearview mirror was the same as it had always been. Hazel eyes, smooth skin marred only by a few moles. Steve made himself breathe. 
"I think I would know," Steve said, keeping his voice carefully steady. He was trying to be less bitchy around the kids, but sometimes they made it so goddamn hard. "--if my face looked like that. It probably-- It probably hurts, right?" 
"Not really," Dustin said, with enough conviction that it tore Steve's gaze away from his own reflection. "Anyway, it's not your face. It's just your eyes. Look, I don't know what kind of Wesen you are, man, but you can talk to me about it, whatever it is. You know I'm one, too, right?"
"A-- a what?" If this was another one of those weird fantasy novel things, he was going to finally strangle the little shit, he really was. 
"A Wesen," Dustin repeated, looking as confused as Steve felt. "Like-- like me and El."
'Like me and El,' Steve thought, turning the sentence around in his head. He was not equipped for this, Jesus. It had to be hard, growing up fighting monsters and stuff, and having one of your best friends be a weird ass superhero, but Steve hadn't expected Dustin to deal with it by playing pretend. He'd always been the most grounded in reality of the kids. It was why Steve could put up with him for more than a couple hours. 
"Buddy, maybe you should talk to your mom about this stuff," Steve said, slowly. "Or like Mrs. Byers or somebody." 
Dustin rolled his eyes, which Steve thought was pretty rich coming from someone sitting in his car and talking about made up words. "Oh my god, Steve. Look."
And then-- And then. 
Steve didn't know how to explain it. One moment, he was looking at Dustin, the kid he'd become absurdly attached to over the past semester, and then something shifted. In the next breath, Dustin was... different. Light brown hair had sprouted all over his face, smooth and straight and so unlike the curly mop still on top of his head. His nose had changed, the bridge gone flatter and wider, the end still hairless but now a deep dark brown, like a dog's. Underneath his nose, his lip was cleft, opened wide so Steve could see even more clearly the gap where Dustin's teeth should be. On either side of the cleft, whiskers sprouted, white and long. 
His eyes were the same, though. Dustin's eyes, staring out of a beaver's face. 
Two years ago, Steve would have screamed. He would have thrown things. He would have been out of the car in two seconds flat. His flight reflex had been recently shattered, though, and now all he could do was stare and try not to choose the other option-- fight. 
This was Dustin, Steve told every dark instinct swelling up in the back of his mind. This was his best friend. Not something that crawled out of the Upside Down, not something stalking through the night. His kid. 
Dustin blinked at him, with a silly smile on his inhuman face. "See?" 
Steve's hands gripped the steering wheel, fingernails digging into the leather. "Dustin, what the fuck is happening right now?" 
The smile faded on Dustin's face slowly. "Do you not-- Steve, come on. You've seen El do this like a thousand times." 
"She's El!" Steve said, his voice going higher with stress. He could feel his muscles start to shake with the effort of keeping himself in place. "She's got, like, powers and shit! She was born in a lab and experimented on! You're-- You're just Dustin!" 
"Okay, ouch," Dustin said. A pout began to form on his face. "Okay, yeah, El is special, but there are people who like her who are, like, normal Wesen you know?" 
"You keep saying that word." 
"You know, like--" Dustin gestured between them with-- Jesus fucking Christ, with a fucking paw. "You and me." 
Steve had to get out of the car. His heart was going so fast he could feel it in his ear drums, in the roof of his mouth. It took too long for his shaking hands to open the door, and by the time his feet hit the dirt, he could feel adrenaline churning his stomach. Behind him, he could hear Dustin calling his name, the passenger door opening, but it only spurred on Steve's desire to get away. 
He stumbled a few feet, his legs too weak to carry him far, until hands grabbed at his jacket. Steve whirled around, ready to fight-- Your kid! A smaller part of his brain screamed at him. --but Dustin was... Human again. 
"What the fuck, Dustin," Steve couldn't stop repeating. "What the fuck." 
"Steve," Dustin said, deadly serious. "Are you seriously telling me you've never met another Wesen before?" 
"Stop saying that." 
"What?" 
"Stop saying that I'm one of you! I'm not. I don't-- I'm normal. Stop saying that." 
Dustin's eyes were too understanding. Steve fucking hated it when he did shit like this, when he could just look at Steve and got him, because Steve barely understood why he did what he did, sometimes. How did this fucking kid always seem to know him? And if he could, why didn't anyone else ever manage? 
"Steve," Dustin said again, pitched low and calm like he was trying to soothe a rabid dog. Like Steve was a monster, crawling the junkyard, looking for blood. "Look at your eyes right now."
There was a compulsion in Steve's blood that would not let him look away any longer. He had to look, had to face his own reflection already knowing it would ruin him. Steve raised his eyes to the car window, and its distorted mirror image of his face. 
For a moment, Steve almost had hope. His face was not marked or pitted like El's, nor was it covered in fur like Dustin's. It was his nose, his skin, his moles, his mouth. The scars that littered his face in the last two years were faint, but still visible. Steve could still feel one of them in the corner of his upper lip. It was almost easy to miss, almost easy to chalk it all up to a bad joke. But then Steve met his own gaze, and all illusion was shattered. 
It was like a trick of the light; They were the same size and shape as Steve's own, lined with the same delicate eyelashes, but there was no mistaking the change. His eyes were black. Not the deep void that stared out of El's other face, no. At first they seemed dead and glassy, like a shark's, but the longer he stared, the more Steve became aware of something moving inside them, like smoke behind glass. 
Steve didn't feel his knees grow weak or his legs buckle underneath him. He barely felt it when he landed on the ground. One moment he was standing, and the next he was on the asphalt, staring up at Dustin. Dustin, who looked down at him with such a mixture of confusion and sorrow that Steve felt, bizarrely, like his change was more inhuman than all the fur and torn flesh in the world. 
"What the fuck," Steve said, his voice croaking in his throat. "What's happening to me? Dustin, what the fuck is happening to me?" 
"I don't know," Dustin said, and-- Embarassingly, Steve let out a thin noise of panic, because he was absolutely fucked if Dustin was admitting he didn't know something. "I mean, I have a theory, but..." Dustin cut himself off and looked around the parking lot. They were alone here, had chosen it specifically so they could laugh and play Dustin's tapes as loud as they wanted to, but he still scanned the area with more suspicion than Steve had seen out of him in months. It made Steve's instincts kick in, had him scrambling to his feet to put himself in between whatever danger Dustin suspected of the world around them. "We really shouldn't do this here." 
"Is this..." Steve swallowed, his hands shaking. "Is this Upside Down shit? Is it because of the tunnels? Did I-- Did I breathe too many spores in or something?" 
Dustin considered the idea for only half a moment before dismissing it with a shake of his head. "No, if this was a symptom, Will would have displayed the same ones while he was in the hospital last year. No, this has to be... Come on, Steve, let's go home. I promise, I'll tell you everything I know. Just not where people can hear us." 
"This is fucking insane," Steve muttered to himself, but he climbed back in the car, hands shaking. 
The ride to Steve's house was tense, neither of them speaking, although Steve could sense Dustin throwing him concerned looks the entire way. He usually hated when the kid did that, mostly because he didn't need a thirteen year old's concern, thank you so much, Dustin, but today it rankled Steve's nerves worse than ever. Everything in his body wanted to fight something, but the only enemy he could identify was inside his own head. Dustin's gaze on him only made it worse, made Steve so jumpy he imagined, several times, jumping from the moving car. 
Whatever was wrong with him, it didn't stop at his eyes. 
Steve stormed down his driveway and threw open his front door. Dustin scurried in after him as if afraid to be left behind, and Steve had a brief pang of guilt, but then he caught sight of himself in the long mirror that hung along the foyer and-- He turned away, swallowing bile. "Alright, kitchen," he said. "I need a fucking beer." 
They sat on either side of his mother's breakfast nook, the only place Steve ever ate alone. Steve had a beer, one of the last few he'd been nursing since his party days ran out. Dustin had a root beer in front of him, untouched. They stared at each other, unsure. 
It was time to be a fucking adult, Steve decided, and unstuck his tongue from the roof of his dry mouth. 
"What was that word you kept using?" he asked. 
"Wesen," Dustin answered, his mouth a grim line. "That's what I am. That's what El is. Or was? It's not really clear." 
"But it's what she was supposed to be," Steve said, and when Dustin nodded, he sucked in a breath. "And what I am." 
Dustin squirmed on his stool. "I think so." 
"So... So what the fuck is it?" Steve shook his head, confused by the very words coming out of his mouth. "Am I going to start growing fur? Or-- Or get all wrinkly or whatever, like El when she uses her powers?" 
"No, it's not--" Dustin paused, his face creased with the uncomfortable feeling of having no idea how to explain something. "I only know what my mom has told me, which isn't, like, a lot. But we're not like humans." 
"Yeah," Steve scoffed. "I got that." 
"What I mean is, we're part of the same community but we're not all the same. We probably have some stuff in common, but I don't know how much. I can't exactly go to the library to figure this stuff out." Dustin's voice held the long-suffering frustration of a child who'd been asking the same questions for a very long time, with no adult willing to answer. Steve was usually all for it, being the first to encourage the kids to say fuck adults and do it themselves, but he was still lost in a sea of information that made no fucking sense to him. 
"Can we just-- Explain it to me like I'm really stupid." 
"I want you to know that I'm not making a joke right now because I can tell you're in a really vulnerable place." 
"Thank you so much, Dustin." 
"You remember Star Wars, right?" Dustin asked. 
Steve's head tilted. "The movie you made me watch over Christmas break? With the laser swords? Yeah, I remember them." 
"Alright, so, everyone in that movie is an alien, right? Some of them look like humans, but they're not from Earth. And some of them don't look like humans at all. They're all from separate planets, some of them entirely separate species, but they're all aliens." 
Steve blinked at Dustin for a long moment before his face collapsed into disbelief. "We are not fucking aliens." 
Dustin's glare was legendary. "No, you idiot. But we're not human, either." 
"Then what am I?" Steve raised a hand to stop the answer he could already see coming. "And don't say Wes… That word. I can't just be not human. People aren't… whatever they're not. I have to be something." 
"I don't know," Dustin said. "I don't know a lot of the names. My mom is kinda…" 
Steve nodded. Mrs. Henderson's brand of flighty overprotectiveness was well known to the entire group, and probably most of Hawkins by now. Dustin was allowed to spend whatever time he wanted with Steve, even staying over at his house when Steve's parents were out of town, but Steve had also been horrified to find that Mrs. Henderson had woefully unprepared the kid for things like puberty or high school. Dustin said his mom didn't like to talk about things that upset her, and Steve guessed that other Wesen was one of those subjects, much like Dustin growing up or rock music. 
Steve felt himself begin to calm. Whatever happened, it was bound to be easier than the time he had to explain to Dustin what a pube was. 
"Do you think she might know?" 
"Probably, but we can't ask her." Dustin was beginning to look actually distressed. "There's no way she would let us hang out again." 
Steve's stomach sank. "Really?"
"When she found out the founder of the D&D club at Hawkins High was a Blutbad, she made me promise I would never join," Dustin said. Brightening, he continued, "Oh, wait, duh! Your parents have to know; They must be Wesen, too! Just ask them." 
Bradley Harrington's eyes had never gone black, Steve was pretty sure, though they had definitely been angry enough a time or two. He couldn't imagine his mother, Sophia, as anything less than human, either. They were both so… normal, although sometimes so damn keen on being completely on-trend that Steve suffocated with it. Half of the trouble Steve had gotten himself into over the years was more about calling too much attention to himself than legitimately bad behavior. Steve was sure they would be just as annoyed by having a genius like Dustin as a son as they were having an idiot like him. 
He tried to imagine what his father would say if Steve called just to tell them his eyes had changed color, and winced. 
"If they wanted me to know, they would have told me," Steve said, grimly. 
"Well, fuck," Dustin said, which Steve thought pretty much summed it up, yeah. 
After a moment of stewing in his own misery, Steve remembered to ask, "So what are you, then?" 
Dustin's chest puffed up with pride, and a ripple of fur sped across his face. "I'm an Eisbiber!"
"That means absolutely nothing to me, you gotta know that." 
"We're like beaver people, basically. Mom says it's impolite to compare people to animals but–" Dustin shrugged. "I call it like I see it. I'm a beaver. Lots of Wesen have animal attributes." 
"What, like a werewolf or something?" Steve asked, incredulous. 
"Those are Blutbads," Dustin confirmed. His voice dropped to a whisper. "But Mom says if you call a Blutbad a werewolf to their face, they'll eat you." 
Suddenly, Steve could only think of demodogs, their faces peeled open and saliva shining in the moonlight. All those fucking teeth. 
He nodded slowly. "I'll… keep that in mind." Shifting in his chair, Steve thought about the tight, inner group of the Party, and the way he hadn't really been a part of it before last fall. Even within their small group, there had always been an air of mystery about El and her origins. Even Nancy hadn't had many ideas, when Steve had gotten the courage to approach her about everything post-breakup, but if Dustin had known the whole time... "So how many people know about this stuff, then? Are Lucas and Mike like you? Is that why everything happened with Will that first time?" 
"I don't think Wesen are that common," Dustin said, "though that might just be a Hawkins thing? Like I said, it's hard to do research. Lucas and Mike don't know. I'm not sure how much Will knows, honestly." 
"But they know about El," Steve said, frowning. 
Dustin paused, looking guilty. "I know. That's the problem. Mike treats El like a superhero, and I'm not... Eisbibers aren't like Hexenbiests, especially superpowered ones made in labs. We mostly make things. I don't want him to think I'm... I mean. You know. It's bad enough, already, with the human shit." 
"Look, Mike and I have never gotten along, but I don't think he would do that. Whatever Wheeler is, a bully isn't one of them." Steve knew what a bully looked like. Scrawny, angry twelve years olds didn't make the list.
"Alright, so you tell them you're a--" Dustin paused. "A whatever, then." 
"I will," Steve said, "the second we can figure out what the fuck it is I'm supposed to be. What about Hop? I mean, how much would El have told him?" 
"Nothing about you." Dustin shrugged. "El was raised in a lab by humans, presumably. She didn't even know what she was. My mom had to tell Hop everything, and then made him promise me and El would never be allowed to hang out alone." 
Steve thought of angry little El, eyes painted to match her second face, who wanted to be with her friends so badly that she ran away to find her past. "I bet that Kali girl could have helped us." 
"Good luck finding her. I'm pretty sure she was half Musai," Dustin said. Steve wished he'd just stop saying shit like Steve was supposed to understand it. Being stupid about human stuff may be embarrassing, but he refused to be bullied for not knowing the names of every single race of a species he'd just realized he was a part of. 
"This is insane," Steve said. He slumped in his chair, and looked around his kitchen. It looked just like he'd left it this morning, the kind of half-cluttered that houses inevitably got when they were lived in by people who desperately didn't want to be there. Filled up with the necessities of life but abandoned just as quickly. Clean dishes haphazardly placed around the room and junk mail months old still piled on the counter. His bread box was empty, half a loaf of bread still sitting in its wrapper on top. 
It should be different, he decided. Not just his kitchen, but his entire world. That's how things had been when he'd seen the demogorgon in the Byers' house-- He'd realized things about the world in that moment that had changed everything. It was fast and violent, and the next morning he had looked at himself in the mirror and not recognized the kid looking back at him. It was the same for everything he'd ever loved, even the people, and while Steve had spent a lot of time looking back, he'd always known there was no resetting time before that moment. 
He was starting to think he'd preferred the violent realization to this slow roll of information. Now Steve was left with the knowledge that the world had already been just as it was, and Steve had just been unable to see it. Right under his nose. His parents, his best friend, his fucking kitchen... the same as it had always been. He'd just been looking at it the wrong way. 
That was a much harder pill to swallow. The demogorgon hadn't left Steve with much choice-- swallow or choke. Get it over with. Fight until you win. But how the fuck was Steve supposed to fight this? He felt helpless in a way he didn't often let himself be, disconnected from his body and vulnerable in the haze of his own thoughts. Like his soul was hanging raw and open in the space around him, and this part of him that was a living, breathing thing was left with no one home. 
"We're gonna figure it out," Dustin said. Steve blinked slowly and pulled his gaze back to the kid who'd just blown his worldview to smithereens. Dustin's face was pulled tight with determination, leftover baby fat bunching adorably in his cheeks. He looked like an angry chipmunk, Steve thought hysterically, and then corrected himself: An angry beaver. 
God, what the fuck had happened to his life? 
"I'm serious, Steve," Dustin said, when it became clear that Steve wasn't going to react outside of a foggy gaze. "We're gonna figure this out, okay? Me and you." 
"Yeah?" Steve said, the edge of a laugh in his voice. "We're gonna, what, hunt down what I am, what my parents are, completely on our own? You literally just said this shit was impossible to research." 
"We don't need that shit," Dustin said, scoffing. "When have we ever needed evidence? Or, like, adults?" 
Steve really wanted to protest that; As the older party and a practical adult himself, it was probably his job to insist on both evidence and adults for pretty much everything Dustin wanted to do, whether or not it involved fictional creatures that Steve may or may not be. The problem was, though, Dustin wasn't exactly... wrong. Hop and Joyce were the only adults that had ever been any help to either of them, and that was on a good day. Half the time they kinda just got in the way. Steve was pretty sure that if cops and doctors just listened to Nancy as much as they listened to the adults, they could have figured out most of this shit back in junior year. 
"Fuck, okay," Steve said, pushing his hands through his hair. "Sure. Goddamn it." 
"You are literally never allowed to tell me off for cussing again," Dustin said. He sounded unimpressed. 
"Sorry, is my breakdown upsetting you?" Steve shot back, but he felt his muscles unclench enough that it no longer felt painful to breathe. Dustin's snark was honestly calming, though Steve would rather die than ever admit it. Still, it was a good reminder that no matter how scared Steve was, things hadn't gotten so bad that Dustin had lost his particular brand of sarcastic zen. As much as the little shit loved to dig into the most dangerous curiosities he could find, he wasn't exactly the sort to smile calmly into the face of death, so... So whatever Steve was, he could deal with it. 
Probably. 
"I'm going to go home," Dustin said, jumping out of his seat. Ignoring Steve's small sound of protest, he continued, "and you're going to take a shower and then a nap. Tomorrow, once you've calmed down, we can do some tests." 
"Tests?" Steve repeated, his nose wrinkling. El had never really divulged what had gone on in the lab with him, but he knew just enough for his imagination to take over. He knew Dustin wasn't exactly the government experiment type, but he still hated the concept being applied to him. "See, this is exactly the kind of shit I didn't want to happen." 
"Tough shit," Dustin said, stomping his way out of the kitchen. Rolling his eyes, Steve followed. 
"Do you want a ride?" he asked, because he always did and, well... Whatever Dustin thought, Steve didn't exactly want to be alone right now. Also, he just found out there was a whole new kind of monster in this town, and every protective instinct in his body wasn't exactly jazzed about Dustin riding all the way home on his bike. "What about the B-- the Bad werewolves or whatever, you were talking about? You said one lived in Hawkins--" 
"Blutbad," Dustin corrected as he wedged his feet back into the shoes he'd previously abandoned next to Steve's front door. "And I think I'll be okay. I've existed in the same town as them for thirteen years and I haven't gotten eaten even once." 
"Not for lack of trying," Steve muttered under his breath, and then helped Dustin put his backpack on. Dustin let him, not complaining about being able to do it himself for once, and not for the first time Steve felt a small rush of affection for the kid. He knew not a lot of people understood why he and Dustin spent so much time together. Sure, sometimes the other kids were involved, Max and Lucas especially, but usually it was just Steve and Dustin. The other kids didn't really get it, and no matter what Dustin said, Steve wasn't sure they saw him as more than Dustin's big brother. As for Steve's old friends, well, Nancy had long stopped being impressed by Steve's ability to keep a kid alive for more than forty five minutes; She probably just thought it was pathetic now. Tommy sure gave him enough shit for it when Steve bothered to give him the time of day. God knew what Jonathan thought, outside of the stern nods they traded when Steve picked Will up for an arcade trip. 
They just didn't understand the warmth in Steve's chest when Dustin let him help with something stupid and small. It didn't matter if Dustin could do it on his own. That had never been the point. Helping the kid put on backpacks and jackets, fixing his hair, making sure his grilled cheeses were evenly toasted on both sides so the texture didn't turn his stomach-- No matter how much Steve bitched, he loved doing every little thing no one had ever done for him. 
"Listen, Steve," Dustin said, standing nervously in his doorway. "I want you to know that it doesn't matter." 
Steve dragged himself out of his sentimental reverie. "What?"
Dustin squirmed, face pinched with thought. "What kind of Wesen you are, it doesn't matter. I'm gonna help you because you want to know, and that's-- That's cool. You've got a right to know, just like El. But knowing didn't change El, and it's not going to change you. You'll still be Steve, and Steve's pretty great." 
Blinking, Steve couldn't respond for a moment. Finally, he managed to say, "Are you trying to pep talk me right now, Henderson?" 
Embarrassment flooded Dustin's face, creasing his brown and throwing blush across his cheeks. "Okay, fuck you, see you in the morning, douchebag." 
Laughing, Steve followed Dustin out the door and onto his front steps. "Hey, Dustin?" he called as he watched Dustin clamber onto his bicycle. Dustin looked up, eyes squinted in suspicion. "Thanks, man," Steve said, a blush rising in his own face. 
Dustin grinned. "Welcome to the club, asshole," he said, and then sped out of the Harringtons' driveway as fast as his little Gumby legs could carry him. God, Steve loved that kid.
Dustin kept his promise. He was there the next morning, before Steve's neighbors had even left for church, with a list of potential 'tests' to try out. None of them were the weird science experiments that Steve had been dreading. Most of them, in fact, were just Steve trying to flex muscles he shouldn't have. 
"Acid spit?" Steve read, incredulous. 
"That one's a far reach," Dustin admitted. Shifting through his backpack, Dustin pulled out item after item, and Steve lowered the list to look doubtfully at the large slingshot that now sat on his kitchen table. "But I didn't want to leave anything out." It wasn't a long list, Steve noted, and most of it was ridiculous. No matter what Dustin said, he was pretty sure he'd have noticed something like kisses that drugged people or the ability to lead rats around. 
Probably. 
"Fine," Steve said, giving up. "But we're not doing this shit outside where the neighbors can see. The last thing I need is another rumor going around about King Steve." 
"It's your house," Dustin said, shrugging, and threw the water balloon launcher over his shoulder.
To Steve's complete and utter lack of surprise, he did not have acid spit or any other set of superpowers. At Dustin's insistence, Steve ran across his backyard a few times, picked up some heavy things, caught a few launched tennis balls-- 
"I'm not playing anymore fetch," Steve decided, dropping the last of the tennis balls at Dustin's feet. 
Dustin glared up at him with all the tiny rage of a scientist disrespected in his field. At least, Steve imagined. He hadn't known too many non-evil scientists in his life. "I'm trying to determine if you have super strength or improved reflexes." 
"Oh, good," Steve said, and then flopped into his usual lawn chair. "I don't." 
"You picked up a grill," Dustin protested, but even he didn't sound convinced. 
"I was on three different sports teams for all four years of high school," Steve said, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Dustin was only trying to help, and Steve knew he should be grateful. But once the panic had faded, all Steve was left with was this... irritation. Wasn't it enough that everything he'd ever known about his life had turned out to be a lie? One more lie on top of everything else turned out to be just one more pea under the princess' mattresses, and Steve was sick to death of vegetables in his bedding. "And I've been prepping to murder interdimensional monsters for the last two of 'em. Of fucking course I run fast and pick up heavy shit. It's, like, literally all I'm good at." 
"I give up," Dustin said, throwing his arms up. Paper floated down around them, escaping from Dustin's clipboard. "You're the most useless Wesen in the world! If I hadn't seen you woge myself, I'd think you were an Eisbiber!" 
"Jesus Christ, kid," Steve said, "Cool it on the beaver hate. Your mom's pretty cool." 
Dustin's glare was intense enough that even Steve knew it was time to shut up. They sat in silence for a moment, Steve placidly watching as Dustin squinted into the reflective light of the pool. Steve had no idea what Dustin was thinking, and didn't have enough context to guess. At this point, Steve was ready to chalk the whole thing up to a trick of the light and move on with his life. Eventually, though, Dustin shook himself out of it and sat on the other end of the lounger, close enough their knees bumped together. 
"Woge for me," Dustin demanded. Steve had learned enough that wogeing meant the change, the other 'face' that El and Dustin possessed. Dustin had talked about it at length that morning, talking about the difference reasons for it and how it might point to the truth of Steve's identity. None of the tests had worked, though, and Steve's eyes had stayed human. 
"I don't think it's the same thing for me, man," Steve said. When he saw Dustin about to protest, he rushed to continue. The last thing he needed was another Henderson rant about the scientific method or some other bullshit Steve wouldn't bother to remember. "I tried for hours to make it happen last night, just so I could make sure that it had actually happened. Besides, it's only my eyes-- And your thing is literally everything but your eyes. Those stay human."
"But El's don't." 
"El also looks like a literal diseased corpse when she changes," Steve said, tired. "Like we've said a million times, it's stupid to compare either of us to the girl literally created and then raised in a lab." 
Even Dustin couldn't argue with that logic, but it didn't phase him for long. "Fine, then we just need to replicate the last time you woged, so I can take notes of all the characteristics I may have missed the last time," he said, slipping back into the overly professional voice that Steve was almost certain he'd stolen from one of his doctors. 
Resisting the urge to groan, Steve frowned. "So, what, we have to go get in the car?" 
"Maybe, if it doesn't work here, but I don't think the place is really the important variable here," Dustin said, and Steve supposed it was a sign of how seriously Dustin was taking this if he didn't even pause to ruthlessly bully Steve for getting it wrong. "How did you feel the last time your eyes changed? What caused the feelings?" 
"Dustin, you were literally there," Steve sighed, but Dustin was already speaking over him before he could finish the sentence. 
"Yeah, but I'm not you! I don't know what instincts were happening in that big head of yours!" 
"I don't know, I was... upset?" Steve asked, and when Dustin rolled his eyes, he kicked at the kid's legs. "Hey! You're the one sounding like a fucking Hollywood therapist! What am I supposed to say? I just watched my best friend turn into a fucking beaver!" 
Dustin's eyes narrowed. "You think my woge triggered yours?" 
"I don't... know?" Steve leaned back in the chair, brow creasing as he tried to remember what had been going through his head before the panic of not recognizing his own reflection. The primal fear hung over every second of the memory now, but he knew that wasn't true. There had been adrenaline, yes, but Steve hadn't been scared of Dustin. His instincts had been more violent, almost angry. That had been what scared him, in the beginning. It hadn't been Dustin that sent him scrambling out of the car, but his own impulses. "When you changed, it made me... I thought I had to fight you." 
Dustin hummed under his breath. "Once, when we were in the city, Mom and I ran into this lizard guy in the hospital. He turned out to be really nice, but when Mom first saw him, she woged out of fear and he woged back-- I think it was probably some kind of predator-prey instinct. Maybe it's like that?" 
Steve felt a pit grow in his stomach. He didn't like the sound of that. "So, I'm like... A hunter?" 
"Unless you think you're the only natural prey of the North American beaver, yeah," Dustin said. 
Great, Steve thought, what a way to have every fucking bad thing anyone had ever thought about him confirmed in one fell swoop. Crossing his arms across his chest, he tried not to settle into a sulk. Pouting in front of the kid you were supposed to be a good influence for was embarrassing as hell, and probably even worse than being an instinct-driven murder machine. "Does that at least narrow it down?" 
Dustin made an unsure noise in the back of his throat, kicking his feet back and forth as he thought. "I mean, kinda. It means you're definitely not anything my mother will let me within five feet of, but we pretty much already knew that. The problem is that, as far as I know, most of the Wesen world is pretty dangerous. Even some of the prey animals are killers." 
"According to your mom," Steve said. He loved Claudia Henderson, he really did, but she thought her neighbor's Yorkie was two seconds from killing them all on a good day.
"According to my mom," Dustin agreed. "Look, let's just woge right now, and it'll confirm it." 
"You don't think that triggering my 'predator instincts' on purpose will be a bad idea?" Steve asked, shrinking in on himself. If he hurt Dustin over some stupid science experiment, he'd have to go ahead and drown himself in the pool. And he genuinely didn't think Dustin could take the extra trauma on top of everything else. 
"You'll be ready for it this time," Dustin said, and twisted around so they were face to face. 
'Ready' turned out to be mostly erroneous. There was no countdown, no time to prepare-- Their eyes met and then Dustin was changing. The fur, the nose, the cleft lip. It was all as Steve remembered it, all exactly as he'd played over and over again in his mind. Steve braced himself, waiting for the same rush of adrenaline, for the same muscle-clenching urge to fight. 
It never came. 
One moment passed, then another. Steve forced himself to breathe. "I'm not feeling any rodent murdering tendencies," he admitted, although he couldn't quite convince his shoulders to relax.
"Well," Dustin said, his tiny beaver face peering into Steve's. "Your eyes definitely changed. They're... Huh." 
"What?" Steve wanted to squirm under Dustin's gaze, uncomfortable with the very intense eye contact going on right now. Even though Dustin was looking at him, in his eyes, Steve didn't feel like he was being included in the interaction. If anything, it felt more like Dustin was watching something through him, and after all the multidimensional shit they'd been through, the last thing Steve wanted to think about was his eyes being a portal. "Come on, man, you're freaking me out." 
"They're reflective," Dustin said, his voice faraway with thought. 
"Yeah?" Steve said, confused. "So are everybody's."
"No, they're like mirrors. I can see myself completely. Every detail." Dustin's voice still sounded lost, and Steve swallowed down the sudden lump in his throat. 
"That's weird," he said, eventually, when Dustin had proven that he had forgotten to even blink. "Um, can this part be over now? I'm not great at eye contact on a good day." 
After a moment, Dustin shook himself, looking just as confused as Steve felt. "Yeah, sorry, man," he said, frowning down at his notepad. "I don't know what happened. Maybe your species is good at hypnosis? Some kind of snake, maybe?" 
"Do I look like a fucking snake to you, Dustin?" Steve said, gesturing to his smooth skin and fluffy hair. 
"No," Dustin admitted, "but we don't really have any proof your species has an animal counterpart, either. El doesn't. And before you say it--" Steve closed his mouth. "-- I'm not comparing you to El. I'm saying that whatever a Hexenbiest is supposed to be, I don't think it was originally like me. Maybe they're not the only ones." 
Honestly, Steve hated the idea of his powers being anything like El's. To put it mildly, El's powers were fucking terrifying. Not the girl herself; It had been impossible to be afraid of El after Steve had gotten to know the sweet little girl that hid behind all that trauma. He adored her, really. But her powers? Steve genuinely didn't know how El slept at night, because if it were him with all that responsibility, he'd probably just have a heart attack. The more power someone had, the more opportunities they had to fuck up. Steve was proof of that. Having as much power as El was his worst nightmare. And if Dustin was right, that Steve might be something like her... 
"We should tell Hop about this," Steve decided. Immediately, Dustin groaned. 
"Come on, Steve! Hopper isn't going to let us dig into this and you know it!" 
"Yeah, and maybe we shouldn't," Steve said. "I don't know anything about this shit, and my parents aren't talking. But if you're right, and I have the ability to hurt someone, then Hop needs to know about it." 
Dustin's face softened. "You-- It's not like that, Steve. You wouldn't--" 
"You don't know that." Steve was on his feet again, pacing the concrete that surrounded his pool. "We don't know anything, and you've seen what happens when El gets angry. And what happened to Will last year?" 
"That wasn't Wesen related," Dustin tried to reason, but Steve was already shaking his head. 
"That we know of," Steve said, "and I think we've proven that neither of us actually know a goddamn thing about this."
"... Fine. But I want it on the record that I think this is stupid, and you would never hurt anybody, Wesen or not." 
Steve rolled his eyes. "Your complaint has been recorded, and will be going directly into the trash. Do you have your walkie on you?" 
They went inside to collect Dustin's abandoned bag, his walkie still packed safely inside. They had given Hopper a Party-approved walkie the year before, when he decided that in case of emergency, relying on phones wasn't enough. Steve was pretty sure he'd given up on the Upside Down being a one-time thing, and making sure the kids weren't being eaten by monsters in the woods made everyone sleep better at night. They had a separate channel, though, for adult-included emergencies, because Hopper had threatened to arrest Mike for calling in a Code Orange over being out of toilet paper. 
Steve hesitated over the dial, for a moment, and wondered if discovering you weren't human was a Code Yellow or Orange. 
"It's not going to call itself," Dustin said, and Steve-- 
His eyes shut, all usual irritation at Dustin's annoyances drowned out by fear. Because he was so fucking afraid. Afraid of himself, yeah, but also a million other things. Like, how was he supposed to look Hopper in the eyes and admit what he was? Sure, Hop was okay with El, but El was a kid. His kid. Steve wasn't sure if he'd have taken the beaver thing half as well from anyone but Dustin. Wasn't sure he would now, even, and he was fucking one of them. Would Hop think he was a monster? 
Even worse, would Hop believe him when Steve said he was something to be feared? Steve wasn't sure if he hoped Hop would, or if he dreaded it. 
"Can you wait outside?" Steve asked, his voice shaking. He could already see Dustin gearing up for an epic bitch fit, so he quickly continued, "Just for a second. I swear, you can come with me. I can't do this shit without you, man." 
The admission made Dustin quiet. With shock or with mollification, Steve didn't know, but whatever it inspired in Dustin was enough to have him nodding and walking out the door. 
Steve turned the walkie to Hop's channel, and held the button down. "Chief, are you there?" 
There was a moment of quiet, and Steve thought- hoped? -that Hopper didn't hear him, that he might be busy or at work or maybe he'd thrown the stupid thing in a drawer somewhere, but eventually the speaker crackled to life. The chief's voice poured out, "That you, Harrington?" 
"Yeah," Steve said, the vowels coming out reedy in the tightness of his throat. "Yeah, it's me. Um... I got a... A Code Orange? Or maybe a Yellow." 
"I can never remember that stupid fucking system," Hopper said, and on any other day, Steve would have laughed. "You okay, kid?" 
Kid, Steve thought, his brain buzzing, when was the last time he'd been a kid? 
"No," Steve said, answering the question truthfully for the first time in years. "No, I'm not." 
There was a moment of static, and then, "You need me there?" 
Steve wanted to say yes. Steve wanted to sit on the floor and wait for an adult to come by and take care of it. Steve wanted a dad who would come home and make everything go away. But that wasn't the truth, and it would scare Dustin, so Steve took a deep breath and acted like a fucking grown up for once. "I was thinking that Dustin and I could come by the cabin tonight, actually. There's something there I think we might need." 
Hopper made a small, considering noise. "This about all that nastiness this fall?" 
"Dustin doesn't think so," Steve said, glad to be able to report some good news for once. "It's more… personal. But, you know, you have a lot in the cabin that might have answers, so…" 
There was a moment of dead air, and Steve wondered if Hop was weighing his affection for El against his need to protect Steve. Hopper was obviously more of a protective dad than Steve's dad had ever been, putting even Claudia Henderson to shame with his hovering abilities, and Steve… didn't begrudge El that. Really, he didn't. But there was a lump in his throat when he thought about Hopper leaving him to deal with this on his own. And he would, if it meant keeping his daughter out of trouble. Steve knew that without a moment's thought. 
He wondered what it said about him that the knowledge made his chest ache. Nothing good, probably. 
"Come on down," he said eventually, and something in Steve's chest unclenched. "You'll both stay for dinner." 
"Sounds good," Steve said, although they both knew it hadn't been a question. "We should be there in about ten minutes." 
"Yeah, I know where you live, boy," Hopper said with a snort, and then the line went quiet. 
Despite himself, Steve smiled down at the walkie as he threw it haphazardly back into Dustin's bag. No matter what changed, at least Hop would always be the same. He was the same as a father figure as he was when he had been a stranger breaking up all Steve's best parties. It was a small comfort, to see someone strong enough to not let all the craziness of their lives change him– A comfort that Steve let wash over him in the silence of his kitchen, breathing deep. 
Okay, game face on, he told himself. Keeping how badly this affected him from Dustin was hard enough, and he knew it would be near impossible in the face of El's observant gaze. He wasn't entirely sure how this would affect her, but keeping as calm as possible would stop her from freaking out, and that was always good for Steve's health. 
He loved the kid but, Jesus, she was scary sometimes. 
"So what's the game plan?" Dustin asked as they both climbed into the Beemer. "I mean, what are we going to tell him?"
"Stop trying to game the Chief," Steve said, with the air of an older troublemaker who had long since learned better. "It literally never works." 
"So, what, we just go in there and tell the truth?" Dustin said. He sounded uncomfortable at the idea, which Steve kind of understood. He'd been the same at Dustin's age, always lying and keeping problems to himself for genuinely no good reason. He was still working hard to break the habit, obviously. He didn't know why he did it, though, and Dustin probably wasn't even aware of it yet– It was just a knee-jerk reaction, something Steve had learned after years of proof that telling the truth rarely got you anything but grounded. 
"If we want Hop to help, he's gotta know what's going on," Steve said, with more confidence than he felt. Dustin argued for the entire drive, less because he disagreed, Steve was pretty sure, and more because it was easier than dwelling on the mystery. Sometimes your brain needed a break from the panic spiral of the unknown, and bugging the shit out of your best friend was the perfect solution, apparently. 
Steve sighed in relief when he rounded the last corner and the cabin slid into view. 
Hidden away in the depths of the same woods that abutted Steve's yard, Hopper's cabin was small and plain, unnoticeable from the main roads that cut through the town mere feet away. Steve wasn't sure how many people knew about the place, but those in the know rarely came by except by appointment. Even Joyce knew better than to roll up to Hopper's unannounced. If anything, such a bold move would be a sign that something had gone truly, terribly wrong. 
There was always a bit of nerves just before Steve knocked on the cabin door. Every time, something in him was convinced he would be turned away. The confirmation beforehand didn't help the anxiety, and Steve was never sure why– Maybe it was the feeling of constantly intruding on El and Hopper's new family, or maybe it was just the fact that they both could kick Steve's ass, but the initial frisson of nerves never faded even after Steve had grown comfortable in their presence. 
Hopper opened the door before he could knock, leaving Steve's hand hanging awkwardly in the air. 
"This doesn't look like an emergency," Hopper said, voice gruff– But his gaze swept carefully over the both of them. 
Steve opened his mouth to explain, or at least offer some kind of vague reassurance that would get them in the door, but Dustin beat him to the punch, as usual. "It's not really a human-type emergency." 
Hopper's eyes snapped to Steve, surprise and suspicion mixing together in equal measure. "You said this wasn't about the lab." 
Steve swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry under Hopper's gaze. 
"Most Wesen aren't man-made," Dustin said, suddenly huffy with offense. Steve would probably be offended, too, if he'd had a lifetime to adjust to not being human. Seemed kind of rude to start assuming people were created in a lab. "Look, can we come in? If I have to re-explain my entire society to you, I at least want to do it sitting down." 
To Steve's surprise, Hopper smiled down at Dustin and took a step back, shrugging. It wasn't exactly a grin, but it was there plain as day, small and fond. "Sure, come on in. El," Hopper said, raising his voice to shout across the cabin to his daughter. "Company's here!" 
El's door swung open on cue, all the proof Steve needed that she'd known they were coming the whole time. The girl all but sprinted into the main room, nearly tackling Dustin in a hug. They looked almost like siblings, all brown curls and wide smiles, and El's delight at seeing Dustin was effusive. Despite the stress of the last two days, Steve found himself sharing Hopper's smile. 
The kids chattered to each other, voices soft with delight, and Hopper made eye contact over their heads. "You hanging in there, Harrington?" It was the kindest way to say that he'd heard the panic in Steve's voice earlier, and embarrassment flooded through his veins. Steve appreciated the concern. Really, he did. But suddenly the shame of his own need to be cared for was overwhelming, and Steve had to fight the urge to back out of the house with a mumbled excuse. 
He couldn't figure this out on his own. This wasn't going away. 
Luckily, Hopper's voice had reminded El of their second guest, and she saved Steve from having to reply by pulling away from Dustin. "Steve!" she cooed, her voice still pure childhood. 
She went in for a hug, her face tilting up to beam at him, and– As their eyes met, El's face shifted. The rapidly familiar ripple of a woge, leaving behind the twisted, pitted skin of her second face. 
The black of her eyes burned like coals, and the intensity of them sung in Steve's veins as adrenaline shot through his blood. His hand, which had raised to pull El into a hug, shot towards Dustin, instead– 
Every cell in his body thrummed with instinct. He needed to get the kid out of here, away from the danger. He needed to put himself in between, needed to fight.
Before his hand could even land on Dustin's back, his feet were off the floor. 
Steve hit the cabin wall, the entire room rattling with the weight of El's power. He could hear Hopper and Dustin's voices, surprised and panicked, but their voices were lost in the ringing in his ears. He struggled in vain against El's invisible hold, rage mounting with every futile second. 
The part of him that still held on to rationality, the part that made him Steve, struggled to calm his pounding heart. He knew El wouldn't hurt Dustin, knew El wasn't the threat his body said she was, but it took everything he had just to bite down on the feral scream building in his throat. 
The strings of El's power were cut just as quickly as they were woven, and Steve slumped to the floor. There were hands on him, but he recognized them as Dustin's, and he let them hold him down. 
"I'm… I'm sorry," El said, her voice small. Steve wanted to cry at the fear there, even as the furious parts of him settled in smugness. 
He didn't look at her. He couldn't. Instead, Steve looked up at Hopper, pleading. 
"Something's wrong with me," Steve said, voice shaking. "You have to help." 
Hopper's face was grim, his mouth a flat line as he looked down at them. "You feel the Mindflayer on him?" he asked El, his eyes never leaving Steve. 
El was quick to shake her head. "No, it's not like Will. It was… I think it was me." 
"I already told you, it's not an Upside-Down thing! He's just a Wesen," Dustin said. His hands were shaking where he had them fisted in Steve's t-shirt. Steve leaned into them, feeling them steady against his ribs. 
"Like us?" Some of the unease faded from El, excitement in her eyes. 
"Not exactly," Steve said, still looking up at Hopper with guilty eyes. 
Dustin turned to El, his eyes sparkling with the excitement of having someone who would entertain his nonsense for once. "You noticed his eyes, right? That's the only aspect of his woge. I've never seen anything like it, have you?" 
El shook her head. "I've had woges forced before, but I–" 
"Forced?" Hopper repeated, and Steve slumped further into himself. 
"Steve didn't, though," El said, and her eyes drifted back to Steve. He didn't like the way her eyes went unfocused when he looked back, the same way Dustin had drifted into a haze earlier that day. "I was… afraid." 
"A prey response," Steve said, glumly repeating what Dustin had theorized before. 
"Not of you," El said gently, to Steve's surprise. "When your eyes went black, I could see myself in them. Not my body, but my…" Her face twisted in thought. "My self." 
"I did, too," Dustin said, frowning. "And Steve said he had the same initial adrenaline response, but I didn't–" 
"I didn't like what I saw," El said, her words clipped in the harsh, stilted way it had been when she was younger. 
All four of them sat in the silence that followed for a moment. Steve wondered if they were also trying to ignore what Steve was: The things El had done that Dustin hadn't, the things she'd had no choice but to become. He wasn't sure what El had seen staring back at her, but Steve couldn't imagine having to actually face the worst of himself. And how did his pathetic little life even compare to the things El had survived? 
Eventually, Hopper broke the silence. "I didn't see anything." The skepticism in his voice was palpable, but there was relief there, too. 
"Humans wouldn't," Steve said, a terrible realization creeping up his spine. "We were wrong, Dustin. It's not a predator thing. I think it's…" He huffed, trying to think of some kind of comparison. "It's like those butterflies that make themselves look like owls. They're trying to fend other Wesen off. Whatever I am, it's afraid of being hunted." 
"Alright, alright. This is–" Hopper rubbed a hand over his face, looking five years older than he had when Steve and Dustin had knocked on his door. "Start from the beginning. What exactly are we dealing with here?" 
Dustin and Steve shared a look. 
'You're the smart one,' Steve said with a shrug. 
'You're the one with the freaky eyes,' Dustin said with an arched brow. 
"Alright, so… It started after I picked Dustin up from school yesterday," Steve began. He ran them both through everything, even the parts that made him cringe. The first intense need to fight or escape in the face of Dustin's woge, the changes in his own reflection he couldn't replicate. 
El listened politely, sending Steve small smiles when she noticed him looking her way. Her obvious happiness when he or Dustin included her in their discussion of Wesen almost made Steve feel guilty for hating this. He knew isolation, both real and metaphorical, was the hardest part of El's slow integration into society, and having more Wesen around was probably a dream come true, but– Steve wasn't that guy. He didn't know a damn thing about being Wesen. He was just… human with a condition. 
Besides, whatever levity El brought to the situation, Hopper was apparently determined to stomp out. His face was that of a man facing down a firing squad, one who was fucking pissed about it, besides. When Dustin mentioned Steve's parents, he practically went apoplectic, turning away as his face went redder and redder. 
Whatever the fuck that was about. 
"So we decided we should come to you," Steve said, gesturing, "because you would know what to do about… me." 
Hopper's face didn't get any less angry. El, who had apparently just noticed her father's countenance, looked between them with wide eyes. 
"What to do about you," Hopper repeated, voice flat. 
"Yeah," Steve said, nodding. "Like you did with Will." 
El and Dustin both flinched, but Hopper was made of stone. Nothing but long, uncomfortable eye contact from him. "I don't think there's anything to be done here, kid," Hopper said. 
Steve couldn't suppress the full-body reaction to that, scrambling to his feet. Adrenaline was hitting him again, sending his already exhausted heart into paroxysms, but now it was true fear. Not of some imagined enemy, but of himself. "I can't just be around people like this, Hop," he said through gritted teeth. 
"You're around people now." 
"That's my fucking point! I have like four fucking friends in the entire world, and two of them turned out to be the exact kind of people that I'm a danger to. The only reason El isn't hurt is because she can kick my ass," Steve pushed a hand through his hair, feeling it stick up at the ends from leftover hairspray. He didn't care. He wanted to pull it out by the fucking roots. "What if I go to the grocery store and meet a Wesen in the fucking dairy aisle, Hop? What about the next time I see Mrs. Henderson?" 
"You didn't want to hurt El," Hopper said, his voice calm but his face still marred by anger. "You were reaching for Dustin. You wanted to protect him." 
"You can't know that for sure. I can't– I can't control myself when I'm like that," Steve said. "It took literally everything I had not to hurt my own fucking kid." 
"Me?" Dustin squeaked.
"You can. I know what someone out of control looks like, Harrington. You aren't it." 
"Why can't you just fucking help me?" Steve said, his voice going reedy with desperation. 
Hopper sneered. "I'm not going to help you punish yourself for something you haven't even done yet." 
"I think maybe we should go outside," El said, and Dustin nodded eagerly. They both scurried outside like they were being chased. 
"Stay where I can see you!" Hopper bellowed after them. Steve blinked back tears, shaking in the silence the kids left behind. Hopper took a deep breath. "Look, kid…" 
"I don't get why you won't help," Steve said, his eyes falling to the floor. "It's not punishment when it's El. Why can't you–" 
"El could control herself," Hopper said. "She just didn't know that she needed to. She's still learning how to be a person, Steve. She's just a kid." 
"Right, right. Sorry," Steve rubbed at his nose, willing his tears away. "I'm sorry I bothered you, I–" 
"That's not…" Hopper sighed, grabbing one of Steve's shoulders in one big hand. "What I'm saying is that you're already a good kid. I don't have to worry about you getting yourself or somebody else hurt." 
"I get myself and other people hurt literally all the time."
Hopper rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean. You're not going to hurt the kids, and I don't believe you're going to start attacking randoms in the street. You're still you." 
"But…" Steve swallowed around a dry throat. He didn't know how to make Hopper understand, didn't know how to make him care. He'd never been very good at that. Half of his life, Steve had been begging people to care. None of it had ever worked. "Alright. I get it." 
Hopper nodded, looking relieved. "Just go home, Harrington. Lay low for a little while. Get used to the new instincts." Steve still wanted to protest, but he agreed. "Good. Let's get outside, before those kids start some trouble." 
Steve followed Hopper out the cabin door, head held low. Dustin and El were waiting for them on the porch, sitting on the edge with their knees pulled up to his chest. They weren't talking, just watching the door with their bright, expectant faces. 
"It'll be fine," Hopper told them, voice calmer than it had been inside. The kids deserved that, Steve told himself. "Steve's got this." 
"Yup," Steve said, his tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth. "It's all under control." 
El darted forward, throwing her arms around Steve's chest and clinging. Steve tried not to meet anyone's eyes over her head and hugged her back just as hard. 
"I'm sorry I scared you," he whispered, heart twinging in his chest. Not much scared El, and now he was on the list. What did that say about him? 
Squeezing even harder, El shook her head, rubbing her face against his chest. "Don't be sorry. It's not your fault," she said. It sounded like she was mimicking someone, and Steve wondered if Hopper had done that for her. If she'd been held close and told everything would be okay. 
Swallowing around his jealousy, Steve held on until El stepped back and smiled up at him. "You'll have to give me some tips on how to do this Wesen thing," Steve said. "Dustin's terrible at it." 
She smiled up at him. "We'll learn together." 
Dinner was a simple affair. Hopper hadn't let Steve help at all, so he had sat on the couch and watched Dustin and El play card games until spaghetti was on the table. The kids were loud and chaotic, thrilled to be around each other again, and it didn't matter that Steve only talked when someone asked him a question. Somehow, he made it through the meal, even when every bite churned in his stomach. 
Even when Dustin kept sending him little looks of concern, always too perceptive for his own good. 
They said their goodbyes quickly, even when El begged them to stay. Hopper, laughing, had told her they couldn't stay forever, and waved them out of the cabin and into the car. 
When Steve pulled into the Henderson's driveway, Dustin hesitated before opening the door. 
"So, I've been thinking," Dustin said, "and I don't think I should go to Camp Know-Where this year." 
Immediately, Steve knew he had fucked up. Dustin had talked about little else since the spring semester had started. No matter what problem he'd had, whether it was bullies or how boring his classes were, Dustin had changed the subject to how good this summer was going to be. And Steve got it. Really, he did. If he'd grown up in a town where no one cared about sports and bullied him for liking basketball, he'd be fucking stoked to spend some time with people who understood him, too.
But now Steve had ruined that for him, too. 
"Absolutely not." 
"I can't just…" Dustin looked distressed, and Steve was all the more determined to send the little shit to camp himself. "What if something happens while you're away?" 
"What's gonna happen?" Steve said, even as his brain played a horror film of all the things he could do without Dustin as a buffer for the rest of the world. He tried to borrow a little of Hopper's confidence. "I just have to get a handle on my instincts, that's all." 
"I don't think sitting in your house alone all summer–" Dustin started, but Steve cut him off, slicing his hand through the air. 
"You're going to your shitty little nerd camp, Dustin, and that is final." Before Dustin could protest again, Steve continued, "I have to get a job this summer anyway, remember? Official Bradley Harrington decree. Even if you stayed home, we wouldn't be able to hang out all day. You can't, like, come to work with me." 
Dustin didn't look convinced. "What if something happens?" 
Honestly, Steve didn't know, either. "You know, I'll call…" Who? The last thing Steve wanted was to disappoint Hopper, so he and El were out. The kids were too young to help with this shit, anyway, and Steve didn't really know many other people. That only left… "I'll call Jonathan or Nancy, okay?" 
"You're really gonna call your ex-girlfriend and tell her you went insane and beat the shit out of somebody?" 
Steve sighed. "If I say yes, will you go to camp?" 
Dustin nodded. "Honestly, I kind of hope you fuck up, now." 
Closing his eyes, Steve responded: "Get the fuck out of my car, Henderson." 
The rest of the spring went smoothly. Steve kept to himself at school; He had already descended into minor loserdom after everything with Billy, so it was a piece of cake to stop making eye contact with anyone he wasn't completely sure was human. Graduation came and went with little fanfare. He skipped the ceremony, and made up some shitty excuse about a vacation with his parents. 
He and the kids ate pizza and watched movies all night. Steve pretended not to see the pity in Nancy's eyes when she picked up Mike and Will the next morning. He waved politely at Jonathan and closed the door.
A few weeks later, Dustin left for camp. 
He started work that same week, and Steve was grateful for the distraction. Orientation was a quick affair, the manager running him through health and safety protocol and quizzing him on customer service. Steve wore his best mask the whole time, smiling at all the right times, frowning thoughtfully when he was supposed to. 
"Let me introduce you to your coworker," the manager said, and led Steve into the back room. A girl sat at the table there. She was wearing the same awful uniform that Steve currently held in his hands, but Steve could still see the nerdom radiating off her. Something about the hair and the tacky thrift-store jewelry. This wasn't one of 'his' crowd, and Steve breathed a little easier for it. "Steve, this is Robin Buckley. Rob–" 
"I know who he is," Robin said, and raised her head. 
The woge rippled across her face, revealing fur and piercing golden eyes.
[Next Chapter]
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Mine at First Sight - Yandere! Feitan x Reader
Warnings: Yandere Feitan x Reader, F! Reader, Virginity, Forced Infantilism, Daddy Kink, Kidnapping, mention of collaring reader, mention of noncon/dubcom
Please respect my wishes and do not engage in my work unless you are over the age of eighteen.
Look at you, poor little darling girl. Do you even know what you're getting into? He smiles at the sight of you from across the dining table, your flushed cheeks and shy expression as he grabs your hand when you wave it around for emphasis as you tell him some story. Precious. Absolutely adorable.
He wasn't a fan of dating apps. He also wasn't lonely, and before this had not had a single care about not having a warm body in his bed at night. He hadn't even been the one to message you. That had been Phinks, the other spider snorting at some message you sent him. Feitan had glanced over, accidentally seeing the message you sent in reply to a request for nudes. Oh, how innocently you gave up the information of your inexperience. Phinks wasn't the kind to be interested in slowly guiding virgins who wouldn't even send saucy pics. Feitan normally wasn't either.
He wasn't sure why you enticed him. If he needed a fuck, it was easy enough to procure one in a warm cunt of some whore trying to trade sex for her life. He had to admit he was grateful to Phinks got to ghosting you the second Feitan told him to. The other spider did have a few good laughs over Feitan being in love, but it was worth dealing with in order to not have the headache of fighting another troupe member for your hand.
"I'm done." He announced, halfway through the meal. You stop your giggly tale, face filled with humiliation.
"Oh, um, okay. No problem." He smiles again at your response. Such a delicate thing. He isn't used to finding someone so charming, especially someone so pathetic.
"Get up." He commands, and you look so confused. He doesn't give you time to argue, not wanting to have you recieve a punishment so soon. He instead walks to your side of the table and yanks you up, ignoring your startled gasp. He sat your date next to an exit on purpose, pulling you out the door before any attention is drawn to you.
"Good girl, not screaming," he praises, ignoring the whimper of fear that leaves you. "I hate this dress." You looked pretty, but he had already decided he would be in charge of everything now, including what you wore. And this whorish red dress? It was much too slutty for his princess. He produces a knife, gagging you by shoving fingers down your throat when you open your mouth to protest. You drool around them, as he slices off your dress. The cold air would make you tremble, if you weren't already squirming in fear. He can't resist fucking his fingers further down your throat, as he hauls you to the car.
Shalnark chuckles from the front seat. "Sick man," He calls Feitan with an amused and chipper tone. Feitan sits in the back with you, beginning to dress you in your new outfit as Shalnark begins to speed down the street. He forces you into a top announcing you were, 'Daddy's Princess,' and a soft pair of cotton shorts. You don't notice the words on the shirt yet as you whimper from his manhandling, drool drenching your chin when he finally yanks his fingers from your mouth. He watches in amusement when you realize, your eyes widening in terror.
"Why are you upset?" He asks, as if he doesn't know. He doesn't give you time to answer. "That's what you are now." He licks your drool from his fingers, moaning at the taste of your saliva. You're addicting. If he didn't think he would get grief for it from Shalnark, he would fuck you right now. "Speed up." He tells Shalnark.
"Calm down, she isn't going to disappear!" Shalnark laughs, but obliges him. Feitan holds you close, ignoring the look of horror on your face. When they reach the hideout, he plans on taking your virginity. He's got a pretty pink collar, just for you, and some toys sweet little girls like you like. Feitan knows training you to happily play dolls will take time, but he can't wait.
He can get a warm cunt anywhere, after all. He can cause pain whenever he want to. But his beautiful girl, with those big innocent eyes sparking up at her Daddy? His princess, whining about five more minutes to play with her toys until he shuts her up with his cock? That's something special, just between the two of you. He couldn't wait.
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phenomenalgirl9 · 9 months
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Jungkook x Reader: Time of my Life
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Summary: That time when you had to take up the role of your friend when she suddenly injured her leg. Yes dancing with an (almost stranger) partner wasn't as bad as you imagined it to be.
A/n: Happy Birthday Jungkookie. I never thought I'd be able to complete it before 1st Sept 11:59pm KST. Hugely inspired from the 1987 movie "Dirty Dancing". (Watch it if you haven't)
W/c: 19.5k
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When you joined the entertainment label you barely thought you'd find yourself here, in the arms of Jeon Jungkook trying to perfect mambo steps nonetheless. No, you didn't hate him, but it's just you don't know him well, even though He was your best friend's partner since forever. 
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2 days ago
"Where are you?" Yuna, the closest person you had to a best friend, scolded you over the phone. "On my way! I'm almost there. Sorry, one of the formations took too much time!" You said as you hung up and rushed into the studio you were supposed to be ½ an hour ago. You bowed to the other in the room as Yuna sent a glare towards you and stood in position. Yes, this was a ritual for Yuna to gather all of the choreographers and lead dancers of the label to show their final choreography before any competition. 
The music started and you watched Yuna and Jungkook dance with grace. They caught every beat together, every step Jungkook did, Yuna met him halfway. You've watched them together so many times and you're left in awe every time. No matter how many times she tells you there's nothing between them you refuse to believe that there's NO feelings involved. How else do you trust and are so in sync with a person?
1 day ago
You received a call from one of the staff and rushed to where they called you. 
"Oh my god. Yuna! Are you okay?!" You rushed to her, the poor girl was withering in pain. Jungkook ran into the room and scooped her in his strong arms, "we need to take her to the hospital" he said looking at you and you followed him out of the building. Turns out Yuna tore a ligament and her movement is restricted for 3 months. 
"Oh my god! Are you okay? Do you feel pain?" You asked. She sat there crying her eyes out as Jungkook was already there to comfort her in his arms. "I fucked up the compitition" she said, and you sighed. "Yuna c'mon it happens" she said and as Jungkook left her side to go grab a juice she hugged you, you caressed her hair. "It's not right for Kook to suffer," she said. "Hey, he'll understand, it's not like you did it. It just happened" you assured her. "Y/n you were the only one who was in alot of the practices. I know you pick up choreography just by watching it once or twice. You have it memorised don't you?!" She looked at you with big puppy eyes, and now you felt nervous with the direction the talk was going in. "I-" you stuttered and she continued. "I know you do, you pointed out that change in one of the postures and poses. Please Y/n, do it for me, not the company" she said. "You know I don't do intimate dances, this is mambo" you said. "Y/n you've done more intimate and difficult dances with your dancers" she said. "Yes but they are MY dancers. This is YOUR partner whom I barely know. I mean it, I don't even know his surname. What is he Kim? Lee?" You said and shrugged, trying to reason with her. "It's Jeon" Jungkook's voice rang from the back and you both looked at him "and are you crazy? Y/n L/N? Mambo with me? She freaked out when that new dancer touched her arm a bit out of place" he said, you didn't know if you should be happy as he's siding with you or feel offended. 
Yuna shook her head and looked at you "Y/n if you don't do this we'll be out for the whole rest of the year, not just this season. Which also means no payment for both of us" she said, "Jungkook shouldn't have to, no shut up" she stopped and shushed Jungkook's protests and said "he shouldn't have to live with this, please, at least try?" She looked at you with hopeful eyes, even though Jungkook said otherwise, he did too.
"Okay! I will try! But no promises" you said and Yuna cheered. 
_____________________________________
Hence, here you were, "your form is good, but you're too stiff" Jungkook remarked, as he tried the steps with you. "Y/n stiff with Jiminie (your lead dancer). You know what, both of you, go get coffee, get to know each other or Y/n will never loosen up”. You both tried to protest but Yuna wasn’t having any, even on the wheelchair she made you two do exactly what she wanted. Hence, after being thrown out of the studio you both walked to the Hybe cafe and grabbed your drinks. “Wah you like (Your favorite drink with special ingredient) I thought you'd be more of a matcha person” he said. “Why would you think that?” You asked and he shrugged chuckling. You learned that Jungkook was also born in Busan and in the same neighborhood as Yuna. He has an elder brother and has been dancing all his life, however he started mambo with Yuna on a whip. “Wait, so You've only ever danced with Yuna?” you asked in shock. “No, but I’ve only ever performed with Yuna,” he said and sipped his drink. You also told him about your family, and how dance has been your only outlet in childhood. How you never really have many real friends so new people scare you. That was when you realized he was as nervous as you were in this situation. But, if you didn’t overcome this both of them would be out for the whole year, until next spring. You sipped and completed the rest of your drink in one go and stood up. “Okay Jeon Jungkook, let's mambo” you said, and he almost choked, “Wah? What happened suddenly?” he asked. “I found my motivation” you said and walked and started walking towards the studio. Jungkook shook his head to see your phone still lying on the table and he quickly grabbed it before following you. 
Mid-way in the elevator, when you felt your pockets empty you exclaimed, “Oh no MY Phone!!” startling the others in the elevator. “This?” Jungkook said and smirked, showing his bunny teeth. You sighed and grabbed it “you could have told me sooner” you whined, “and miss that expression? Nah” he said and the two of you laughed. When you entered the studio you felt a bit better. 
_____________________________________
“Hands up, look into my eyes” Jungkook said, and you obeyed. “Y/n you can move a bit more closer, Jungkook doesn’t have cooties” Yuna said and again you obeyed. “Let him lead, as misogynistic as it sounds,” Yuna added again. “And 3, 2, 1, Turn, pull” Yuna said on the beat, and Jungkook twirled you and pulled you close, your back to his chest. You sucked in a breath as he lead you into the move, his hands roaming your body. “Pause!” you almost screamed and pushed him away and rushed out of the room. “Yuna wheeled behind you, before leaving she signaled Jungkook who was ready to run after you to stay put. “Y/n? Are you okay?” she asked as she found you crouched near the wall. “It’s uncomfortable right? I understand, If you want I-” she tried to comfort you but you interrupted her and said “No” you said "I will do this" you added and walked back while pushing Yuna with you. 
"Are you okay?" Jungkook asked as soon as you entered and you nodded. You tried the step again. "Y/n? Are you in pain?" Jungkook asked when you found your eyes shut tightly. You shook your head "go on" you said. "I can't. It seems like this step is physically hurting you" he said with concern in your eyes. You huffed and crouched down, and Jungkook did the same beside you, stroking your hair "are you okay?" And you nodded.
"Why don't we do it slowly little by little, do it progressively until you're okay with it?" He suddenly suggested. And you looked at him, into his big doe eyes his look was so sincere. You nodded and he pulled you up. And you did, did it once as he touched you little by little lightly. It felt less and less uncomfortable as he kept talking to you, telling you about his and Yuna's childhood days. 
_____________________________________
4 days later
"It's Pre-Shoot Day!!" Yuna cheered as Jungkook and you got into the company car. "Could you be any more excited?" You asked about drinking the (your favorite drink) that Jungkook brought with his latte. "We don't need to perform today, just a shoot and a small video," Jungkook said. 
He had your hand in his, the whole way, you felt comfortable and guilty. The past few days you've come to find a strange form of comfort in Jungkook. But, you knew it was wrong, Jungkook wasn't yours to hold. Him and you are just for the time being, it's him and Yuna, it always has been, by the looks of it. Then again you didn't have the heart to pull your hand away, so this once just this once you'll grab this one chance for yourself even if it's for 2 weeks. 
So you did, you aced the photo shoot and the video shoot. "You both have such good chemistry almost as good as Jungkook and Yuna" the director said and you tried your best to not let your smile falter, that was supposed to be a compliment, then  why did it feel the opposite. Jungkook cleared his throat and said "if it's done then we'll be off director nim" he said and pulled you away by your wrist. 
"Are you okay?" He asked, searching for your face that had almost dimmed and was drained of the excitement that you had a few minutes ago. You nodded and parted ways to get back to the green room. You were about to enter, when you heard the stylists that were previously aiding you discussing. 
"She's just a stand in"
"She isn't even half the elegance that Yuna had"
"Yeah I don't know if they'll be able to even win this year"
You hand tightened around the handle and you pushed in, grabbed your things and walked out. You went straight outside and hailed a cab and went back to the company building.
The staff were shocked when they watched you walk in teary eyed and step right into your studio and lock it. If someone would listen intently they'd hear the sound of sobbs from inside. As soon as the news reached Yuna she asked the staff to quickly take her to you.
"Y/n" she called from outside. "I swear to go, I will break this door if required if you don't open…what?.. you have a key" the last part was probably directed to whoever was there outside with her. "We have a key we'll get in, so just unlock and let me in. Just me. Promise" she said. You slowly walked to the door and pried it open and Yuna wheeled in and closed the door. 
"Did Jungkook do something? Say something? I'll kill-" Yuna was interrupted when you shook your head and said "no". "Just that-" you sighed and decided to tell her everything that happened, starting from the director's comments to what the staff said. "Y/n, those are dumb insignificant people who don't even know what they are talking about" Yuna said caressing your hair. "It's just, what if I pull you two down?" you asked. "You won't" the sound came from behind you two, there stood Jungkook in his normal baggy clothes near the studio door. "Go away" you said and pulled your knees to your chest and put your head down. "No" he said and instead came and sat beside you. "C'mon" he said and forced your head on his shoulder "stop considering me an outsider" he whined and you broke into a smile. He's such a good friend, you thought. 
_____________________________________
2 more days later
"You won't look through social media until the performance" Yuna said and uninstall your apps. 
"People are shit talking I know" you said and sighed. "Y/n would never be Yuna" you said and sighed again. "Y/n doesn't need to be Yuna, just Y/n can rock everyone with her dance and smile" Jungkook said with his bunny smile. The smile that has brought you comfort even during your multiple breakdowns. You smiled and mirrored his expression.
You both almost spent over 16 hours of the day together to practice and just parted ways to sleep. All the choreography was nearly perfected except the two lifts. You often lost balance and that was where you were tense.
"Yuna? Should I take you to the hospital tomorrow?" You asked. "Nope, you two carry on, manager nim will bring me and I think I'll take off. Why am I even working so hard if I am not dancing" she said and the two of you laughed. Hence, the next day you felt nervous, when you stepped into the studio to meet only Jungkook. He looked at you through the mirror, and smiled his bunny smile. You both lay the mattresses to practice the lifts. You both start off with a run through of the choreo, neither of you speak a word. The tension was seriously so thick you could cut it with a knife. Being alone with Jungkook did something weird to your brain. His every touch sent goosebumps down your spines. The first lift was easy and you managed it, then the bridge came, then you both prepared, you ran towards him and he was ready and you lightened your body and he picked you up with ease as you held your pose. And he put you down, and as if in reflex he immediately found his hand on your waist, the other on your neck and pulled you in, crashing his lip onto yours. He walked and pushed you while kissing you, until your back hit the mirror. Your both mouths are running in sync. The feeling of his lips on yours made you forget everything, who you were, what you are. Suddenly, realisation hit you, and you pushed him away. "Y/n? What's wrong?" he asked in utter confusion. "How could you?" You said and looked at him with disappointment. Walking out on him. 
How could I let this happen? She's my best friend?! What will she think? Fuck!, You thought. Jungkook kept calling but you never received them. Jungkook got impatient as time went and he finally called Yun and explained everything to her. Thank god she skipped the teasing (for now) and immediately called you. 
You flinched the moment you saw the name on the screen. How could you talk to her after what you've done? 
Both Yuna and for you to get back to either of them, but you didn't. So, when it was the next afternoon and you still hadn't come to the studio or called, Yuna decided to take matters into her own hands.
Meanwhile you wallowed in self-pity and sorrow and guilt. Ever since college days you knew Yuna was in love with Jungkook even though she didn't admit it. You watched the two of them perform together and the thought became a belief, you didn't really have any reason so you never really spoke to Jungkook beyond the pleasantries. But now being around him and your feelings. You felt dumb that the first crush you had in a while is the person your bestfriend is in love with. How could you just up and kiss him and do this?! Where was your conscience? Yuna would never want to see you again. What- 
Your thoughts were interrupted by the knock on the door. Who was it now? You walked to the door and opened it only to meet eyes with your best friend. "Y/n! You crazy lady" she said and rammed her wheelchair inside before you could react, so you moved and let her in. Might as well face her, the staff member behind her bowed and signaled you to shut the door.
You didn't say a word, "what's wrong with you?" She asked and you were still silent, you didn't know what to tell her. Did Jungkook not tell her? "Yuna I- I- did something terrible and I'm so sorry" you said and Yuna was confused, "I'm sorry I-I- kissed-" you stopped, you felt like your lung would explode. "Jungkook?" She completed your sentence and you looked at her. Was she here to confront you? "Why did you run away?" She asked. "I was so sorry cause I know you-" you stopped again and Yuna asked "Y/n why would you be sorry? It's just Jungkook" she said and you looked at her, your turn to be confused. 
"You're not angry? Why are you so okay?!" You asked.
"Why will I be if my two best friends are finally getting together, specially when one of the said best friends has been pining over the other for ages" she said and you stuttered"but I thought you, you and him- you" 
"I always told you I didn't like him, we just have that chemistry cause we know each other since we were in diapers. He's like a brother to me" she said and you sat down. Yuna came to you and wiped your tears away. "Y/n, you fool" she said and pulled you into a hug. "Do you know how long I've waited for you two to interact? He's been pining after you since 3 years ago when we joined the entertainment" she said, and you were shocked. Jungkook is generally quiet on the outside so maybe you never even noticed him like that. 
"Please go to him, he almost cried last night when you switched off your phone for him" Yuna said and you fiddled with your hair. 
Yuna dropped you at the company building with almost a threat to pulverize both of you, if you didn't "fix this". 
You looked through the little glass window to see Jungkook lying on the ground. You opened the door and he said "did you talk to her Yu-" he stopped talking when he looked at the door and saw you standing instead. Suddenly, you felt extremely conscious of yourself and your messy hair that you noticed now with the mirror in front of you. "Hi" was all you could muster as you walked in further, but he was still silent and still. "I'm sorry, I misunderstood you" you said and he frowned in confusion. 
"I was really under the impression that you liked Yuna and I freaked out cause. I liked you and thought that you didn't but you ki-" you were shut off by the force of his lips on yours. And you wrapped your hands around his neck and closed your eyes. 
"You're all I have ever liked" he said when he finally parted. "Like are you blind?" I brought you coffee and food so many times" he said, pouting. "I thought you were just being nice or Yuna sent them, you never really said anything apart from Food for you and a smile" you defended yourself and he pulled you into a hug. 
_____________________________________
Hence, here you were, on the day of the competition. Hand in hand with Jungkook on standby waiting for the host to call out your name. 
Now I've had the time of my life 
No, I never felt like this before 
Yes I swear, it's the truth 
And I owe it all to you
You both started the routine, hitting every step as the crowd cheered on.
Now with passion in our eyes 
There's no way we could disguise it secretly 
So we take each other's hand  'Cause we seem to understand the urgency
Everyone was surprised with the energy and chemistry that you radiated, the ease with which Jungkook made you move and you followed his lead. You both nailed the 1st lift. It was just you and him, nothing and nobody else mattered. 
Just remember,
You're the one thing 
I can't get enough of 
So I'll tell you something 
This could be love, because 
I've had the time of my life
That part came and Jungkook smiled. He trusted the both of you and you just need to have faith. You both parted away and you rushed towards him and with a simple movement he picked you up steadying the two of you and you held the position. The cloud erupted in a cheer as he put you down continuing the choreography. 
'Cause I've had the time of my life 
And I've searched through every open door 
'Til I found the truth  
And I owe it all to you.
You both hugged tight as cheers burst out among the crowd, even the other dancers were clapping and cheering so hard. Jungkook and you walked down the stage and Yuna pulled you both into hugs. "I'm so proud of you two, especially you Y/nie." She said.
_____________________________________
2 months later
"You set the bar too high for me," Yuna grumbled, as this season's trophy shined on the studio shelf. "Can you both stop eating faces and listen to me!" Yuna's yelling brought you back two back from your world.
"My baby is going away for a week with that Jimin hyung" Jungkook said grumbling. "Aw, don't be jealous, there's also Felix, Minghao and Wooyoung" you said, patting his head as he grumbled further and reluctantly stood up to restart practicing with Yuna. 
"I love you and trust you, don't worry," he said. "I wasn't worried, but I love you too, " you replied. 
_____________________________________
Other Works
Taglist: @bbl32 @back2bluesidex @cherryblossom-2004
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kawaiijohn · 1 year
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Danny tries to pawn the Ghost King position off on his classmates.
Idk what I was doing, and then suddenly it turned into wes/danny I'm so fucking sorry?
T rating I embarrassed myself fucking writing this bc it came out of nowhere girl (gn) HELP
"Hey Dash how about instead of you focusing on your homework you just start beating me up, just like old times! I sure miss being slammed into a locker."
Dash looks at Fenton, confused before scoffing.
"Even though I normally love wailing on you, Fenturd, coach needs me on my best behavior. State's next week and I'm one loser swirlie away from being suspended."
"I won't scream or anything, I promise! Whaddya say? You get to beat the snot out of me and I won't even complain! I'll even thank you for it." Danny responds, looking around nervously. "But I'm in a bit of a rush, so can you make it quick and do it, say, before six tonight?"
Danny gives the other boy the saddest, most punchable puppy dog eyes he possibly can.
Dash rolls his eyes seeing Fenton ham it up. The loser only does this for his birthday, so it's really weird having him request it four months in advance. Dash decides to ignore the request, only gently pushing the dweeb out of his way. "Beat it, Fentertainment Tonite- I know you don't have a life, but I do."
Danny curses as Dash disappears down the halls.
"I know you want to punch me. You wanna do it so bad." Danny eggs on another of the jocks- Travis, he thinks. "Remember that time I said you punch like my Grandma?"
His grandma taught both his mom and aunt how to fight, but Travis doesn't need to know that.
"Beat it, jackwipe!" Travis shoves Danny out of the way and continues down the hall.
"The one time I need to be shoved into a locker or punched, none of the jocks want to even look at me." Danny bemoans.
He's already struck out with Dash and Kwan- both of which need to stay as non violent as possible with administration lurking around this close to their big game. Paulina pretended he didn't exist, and Star laughed in his face. Something about 'she already kicked his ass months ago'. Which was true, but he was certain he's done something since then worth beating him up for.
"I can't ask Sam or Tuck, it's gotta be someone I hate." Danny pauses with a shudder. "But definitely not Vlad- he already has an ego the size of the Milky Way..."
Danny hears the bell ring and wipes his sweaty palms on his pants.
He has until six tonight to get his ass beat. He can do that, right?
---
Danny is downright panicked now.
Detention really put a damper on his plans. Being stuck in a sweltering classroom with Lancer and Wes only made him more nervous. It really didn't help that Lancer needed helping hands for some after school thing.
Danny only has one option, and he's glad it's one of his 'enemies'.
"Heyyyyyy Wes, what's happening tonight?" Danny slings his arm around the tall boy's shoulder, pulling him down to pipsqueak height. "Wasn't that round of detention just fun?"
Wes nearly growls and shoves Danny off of him. "Fenton! You're the reason I was even there in the first place! If it wasn't for you and your stupid ghost bullshit I would have gotten to class on time!"
"Yeah?" Danny asks, being as annoyingly positive as he possibly can. "Well it's good that there was two of us, or else Lancer wouldn't have let either of us out until well after six!"
Danny looks at the clock nervously- five fifty.
He has ten minutes.
"I don't find moving entire stacks of chairs halfway across the school fun, or even a fair punishment for being late twice in a week. So what if the crafting club has their expo tonight? They should be the ones moving furniture." Wes tries to overtake Danny in the hall but he can't outwalk the other boy.
"But we got to spend all day with each other! Isn't that just swell?" Danny pukes in his mouth a little. He's got a goalpost to reach in less than ten minutes, and my the Ancients he's gonna do it.
"Spending time with a chronic liar and freak of nature isn't really what I consider fun, Fenton."
"Yeah, but we really bonded, don't you think? Had some quality one-on-one without you being a creep outside my house."
Wes's face reddens. "HEY! That was one time, and I don't want to have the cops chase me again. Or your parents, who are worse somehow."
"See, we're bonding here!" Danny jogs alongside Wes, making sure to keep pace at just the right level of obnoxious. But we should really bond sometime in the next... eight minutes."
"God there it is again! What? Do you have important Phantom shit to do at six or something?" Wes rubs his temples. "You're being freakier than normal today and I'm gonna get to the bottom of it."
"There's nothing to get to the bottom of, I just have something to do later. Not Phantom or ghost related- something completely normal and human, yep."
"God you piss me the fuck off, Fenton." Wes crosses his arms and blocks the doorway out of the school. "And one of these days, I'm gonna get you to confess, and then it'll be all over."
"Yeah, that's nice and all, but like, wouldn't it just be so satisfying to, I dunno, take out all that pent up frustration on me?" Danny grins devilishly at the other boy. "Come on, I have such a punchable face! Aaaaand since you say I'm a ghost or whatever it won't actually hurt me, right?"
Danny gets right up into Wes's personal space and looks up at him with a shit-eating grin.
"Back off, Fenton." Wes backs himself against the lockers. He looks anywhere but Danny's face. "Personal space is a concept even stupid ghosts understand."
"Yeah, but if I'm a stupid ghost doesn't that make you wanna prove it? Can't you prove it by beating me up? You have a camera..." Danny reaches for the camera slung around Wes's shoulder and points it at his own face. "It'd be soooo easy."
Wes's face is currently doing its best impression of a tomato as he continues to ignore Danny.
"Please? I'm gonna start begging you to beat my ass soon if you don't acknowledge me, Wes."
"Back. Off. Fenton." Wes stares Danny right in the face. "Last chance."
Danny does the opposite and yanks Wes to stare him in the eyes. "You wanna punch me so bad it makes you look stupid, Weston." Danny chuckles and makes his eyes flash green. "Your face is sooooo red with rage- you wanna kick my ass, admit it!"
Danny barely gets a warning before Wes lunges and tackles him to the ground with a kiss.
Both boys gasp in surprise and Wes backs himself against the lockers with a loud bang.
They sit in silence, staring at each other in disbelief before Danny laughs.
"Dude, what the fuck is wrong with you?"
"Sh-shut up! It's not my fault you're kind of..."
"Wait, have you been staring at me this whole time because you're crushing on me?" Danny laughs in disbelief as Wes turns even brighter red. "Is that how you 'accidentally' discovered my secret?"
"No!" Wes sputters out. "I don't sta-"
"Stalk me, yeah. Dude you follow me around with a camera to try and expose me. What sort of fruitloop shit are you pulling??"
"Well, if you weren't lying about being a human, then I wouldn't need to-"
"Yeah yeah, whatever." Danny doesn't know how to feel about it, really. Wes is kind of cute, and he's unhinged just like the rest of his friends. But he's also obsessed with exposing him, and kind of stalks him (to no success).
He spends a few moments before he glances at the clock again.
Two minutes left.
He can use this to his advantage, even if it's dirty and underhanded.
"Hey Wes. You really fucking suck at kissing." He eggs the other boy on. "Like, zero technique, all desperation!"
"Shut up!"
Wes starts crying a little. Danny only feels a little bad, but he really needs this to happen.
"What, even I've kissed people before and I'm a loser! Plus I bet you can't even man up and fight me like I want- you're such a little cuck boy, Weston! Always relying on other people to do the dirty work of beating my ass so you can gather your evidence like a little bitch in the dark."
"I said shut up!" Wes's face is bright red again- an angry embarrassment with tears streaming down his face.
But he still has to keep going, even if it feels gross to do this to someone who he kind of likes.
"Make me, Wesley." He spits.
---
It's a dirty brawl but it ends with a very red-faced Wes pinning a bruised and elated Danny to the ground. The latter feels awful about playing dirty with Wes's feelings, but it seems the other boy really needed to take out his rage on him.
"Sooooo, you admit you have complete victory in this fight, right Wes?" Danny smiles up from underneath the other boy.
Wes sputters, his face still bright red and tears running down his cheeks. "You're such a fucking little shit, Fenton."
"Thanks, I try!. But I need you to accept that I'm saying you have total victory in this fight."
Wes sighs and lets go of Danny's wrists and sits back against the lockers. "Yeah, sure. I beat your ass fair and square. Also do you know how weird it is to see you healing this fast? I swear I gave you a black eye."
"You did. I'm just a fast healer." Danny sits up and looks around. He feels... guilty. At least for only finding one person to do this to.
The clock strikes six.
"Also, I'm sorry I lied- you're not a bad kisser. I just needed you to beat my ass. Also sorry about what's about to happen." Danny rubs the back of his neck.
"Sorry about wha-" Wes is interrupted by a portal opening beside the two of them.
"Sorry for being impolite, we should assume." An Observant materializes out of the void beside him. "It's not polite for the crown prince to wait until the last minute to find a replacement, but since you have... bested Prince Phantom in combat, albeit not formal combat, the rules are the rules."
Wes glares at Danny who is doing his best trying to disappear without going ghost.
"Prince Phantom??" Wes spits at the other boy.
"Yep! Former Prince Phantom." Danny smirks. "And again, sorry, but they only gave me today until six to find a replacement. The whole King schtick isn't really my jam."
Wes stares at the other boy as more Observants spill from the hole in reality and bow to him.
"Fenton..."
"Hey! I'm not gonna bail on you or anything. You still need an advisor- I just really don't wanna deal with the formality shit. Hope you understand!"
Danny gives Wes a peace sign as he's escorted through the portal, pissed off, confused, and shell-shocked.
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smartycvnt · 7 months
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Night Life
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Title: Night Life Pairing: Sara Lance x Reader Summary: Sara and Y/n run into each other on the streets, accidentally revealing both of their secret identities to the other. NR WC: 926
Sara had done a good job of staying out of Star City for nearly a decade. It had been easier whenever she still had Ava, but no good thing ever stayed in Sara Lance's life. She gave up time travel and vigilantism for a family, and she'd never regret that, even if it didn't work out. Sara had given it her best, but that kind of life wasn't right for her. She had gotten bored too easily, which was when the trouble started. Still, there were lines that Sara had never crossed. She was grateful for that bit of self-restraint that led to an easy divorce, even if it had ultimately put her back in Star City.
Technically, it was only for a weekend. It was a stop off on her new place, located about halfway between Central City and Star City. She was sick of listening to her parents trying to convince her to go to one place or the other. She didn't want to be that close to either of them, not if it meant the other would feel slighted for being left alone. Both of her parents had their own lives to worry about anyway. Her mother had a busy few months ahead of her wedding planning, and Quentin was working to repair his relationship with Felicity's mother, something that would never not absolutely shock Sara to think about.
It had nearly been a perfect weekend with her father until he got called into work. Sara had promised him to stay out of trouble, but that didn't mean she couldn't go on a patrol of her own. Quentin had tried to talk her into becoming a cop or working with the police wherever she ended up, but Sara didn't want that. She wanted to just let herself get used to being on her own for a little while. Ava had given her a couple of months to work things out before they finished drafting their custody agreement. Sara decided that this was truly her last little bout as the Canary, and she'd even torch the outfit to make sure of it.
"Hold it right there." Sara froze at the sound of a voice behind her. There was something familiar about the voice that excited Sara, even more than the click of the gun being cocked. Sara recognized the voice, even if she didn't know it yet. It had to be someone from her past, but Sara couldn't focus on it long enough to figure it out. "Turn around and face me."
"You know, if you'd ask nicely, you wouldn't need that gun," Sara said as she turned around. She kept her head down to try and conceal her identity, but the woman with the gun tilted it up. Sara expected the woman to say something, but instead, she just stared from underneath her hood. "What? Is something wrong?"
"Sara Lance, I'm pretty sure that I heard you died." The woman pulled the hood back and revealed her face to Sara. It was somewhat obscured by face paint that Sara recognized as an emerging gang in Star City, but behind that Sara knew the woman.
"Y/n, you're in a gang? I thought you were gonna be a cop," Sara said, unable to hide her shock.
"Turns out that inciting an investigation on Internal Affairs is a bit of a career killer, and those guys don't fuck around. They shot me, got me medically retired, and then I lost everything. It's a long and tedious story, but I've found my place. Now, I'd hate to have to kill you, but can you keep my secret?" Y/n casually waved the gun around as she spoke. Sara watched her closely and noticed that Y/n kept her fingers away from the trigger. "I'm not really hurting anybody who doesn't already deserve it."
"I was like you once, and this isn't the way." Sara knew that her words wouldn't change a thing, but she had to at least give it a shot. She had always known that Star City would eventually fall down the path it had before with crime and violence, despite Oliver's best intentions.
"It's not permanent, nobody's party phase ever is. Maybe when it's all said and done, we can work together. The city has been hurting since all its heroes went away. We could use a Canary again, but I'd change the color. Blood stains are a bitch to get out," Y/n said. Sara smiled to herself as she thought about coming back to this. She hadn't wanted to, but she knew that Y/n had to have a point. The city needed vigilantes. Star City at its most peaceful was still much more dangerous than most cities.
"We'll see. I told myself I was done a long time ago," Sara said. Y/n nodded as she clicked the safety on and holstered her weapons.
"Either way, I hope to see more of you Lance. Hopefully in a more official manner than when we were in school. How long are you in town for?" Y/n asked.
"I'm leaving tomorrow, but I'd definitely like to see you before I go. Meet me at the coffee shop on Harker Street tomorrow around 11?" Sara asked. Y/n nodded in agreement and placed a card in Sara's hand before she ran and baseball slid off of the rooftop. Sara shook her head as she glanced down at the card, which was a number for a private investigation service, most likely Y/n's.
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notthatnoodle · 1 month
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Tombstone Redemption
~Van Der Linde Gang meets the Cowboys~
”Gentlemen! May I simply ask you to listen to my, proposal.”
”Hear that, boys? We’re going to have some fun tonight, shall we!”
~~~~~~~~~~
And my dumb talk about cowboys, mental health, and me being so unsure of my drawing skills. Buckle up cowboy, it's going to be a long one.
~~~~~~~~~~
Do you know that feeling, when you have an idea. And that idea is something that scares you? Because I do, too clearly if one may say.
I wanted to do something. Draw something that I would be proud of. But how to do that when you just hate everything you do, when it feel overwhelming to do.
Well, just trying to do it. Just trying to enjoy the journey and the things I'm doing while on it.
It was scary to start, but I still had a plan for it, you know.
Something big, scary.
"This is never going to look good. It's going to be terrible."
"It's going to take so long, it's going to look stupid."
"I already hate it."
That's what I thought at the time, while doing the sketch.
And you know what...
I did. But after days of just doing the lines again and again, it finally got better. After DAYS. For me it might take weeks before I can continue working on something which looks bad in my eyes.
I hated to do the line art first, I hated to do it, so much that I almost gave up because it already, alone, felt overwhelming. I didn't like it one bit. The characters didn't look like themselves, and I wasn't happy. No one has any idea how long it took to do it.
BUT i finally did it. I got flat colors done. And from there, I could finally move to the next part. And I was so happy how it turned out, it gave me hope, feeling of success.
"I can do it."
"I can do the next part too."
I was in halfway now, the RDR2 side was ready, except the lighting and the shadows of course but anyway. To get myself to do the rest, I asked myself...
Why I do this again?
And the answer to that was surprisingly simple.
I do this because even it feels so overwhelming at times, I love to do it. I love to see what I'm capable of. I love to draw, sketch, do things like that.
Because it helps my mental health.
Because I need to get my inspiration out to a paper.
Because I love westerns
Because RDR2 became my comfort game.
Because Tombstone became my comfort movie.
Because I have no money to travel to the other side of the world to a meetings or something. I have to create my own "meetings", in a way of an art.
Because both, RDR and Tombstone, have helped me in the past year, in the ways I never imagined would be possible.
Who would've known long time ago that I wouldn't need any meds in couple of years because some sad, rough, cold, unstable cowboy men, huh?
I've heard so many times that people have called comfort characters "cringe" or "weird."
And that "you should get real help."
Well, I did. I had that real help, but beside the medication that helped, I just couldn't find anything to talk about with the professionals.
I never personally have liked talking (but it's still good, try it) and I've always used art and writing to get all my feelings out. Tbh, it haven't helped the situation that I'm terrible at recognizing my own feelings.
And, well.
If anyone would've said back in 2020 that "In couple years your mental health is going to get better because of Arthur Morgan and Johnny Ringo" I would've been so confused.
"Who??? Where??? When???"
The two most mentally stable men in the universe, right?
But you see, here we are. Still trying to decide do I hate my art or not. But even still, it's finally on place where I dreamed it would be when I was 14 years old and could only draw poor dogs and cats.
I may not feel like it, but I try to remind myself many times in a day. That this is what I wanted, this is what I worked for.
The progress has been slow, but it's still showing up. But I want to get better, I want to draw even more better, to get more realistic or something. I'm not even sure myself. Can you believe it? 10 years of drawing and I'm still not sure what I want my style really to be, other than somewhat realistic.
The progress is slow, but it's here. The mental health and drawing skills are both growing even I may not admit it to myself. And I still want to get better.
There is going to be bad times, there is always going to be bad times, those are never going to disappear. But what also is not going to disappear, is my passion to my art. To the characters, to the world they live in.
It's surely going to stay a big part of me, even it may fade in some point. But it is still there, a part which shows what helped me get back up.
As a reminder to myself how I got better. And that healing journey isn't in the end. Is only just begun.
It's a journey I'm afraid of, excited, curious, terrified...
But it's going to be amazing, hard, I'm going to hate and love every second of it.
And that's good. It means I've finally managed to dig up my closed emotions.
I may be able to know what I feel for the first time in years. I might be able to feel something that has been hidden away since forever.
And all that just because of some Cowboy Depression Simulator and the movie with the Cowboys and tuberculosis.
Seriously, they both end almost same way and managed to broke my fucking heart while doing it. And still they are probably the best things that have ever happened to me.
What I learned, what I thought while doing this art and thinking it's meaning... Only person you can let down in this planet is yourself, and only person who really knows everything you've done to get back up, is yourself. So, give a hug to you, give a tap to you, give a hamburger to you or something.
The good begins before the bad things end.
So go kick this day to the balls or something, somewhere where the sun doesn't shine, get it all back to yourself.
Carpe diem and have some FAITH to yourself...
Because you really don't know how good the light of tomorrow morning could feel.
Thank you for coming to my TED talk. I believe in y'all.
~~~~~~~~~~~
-Setri.
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celestialholz · 1 year
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The P(aldea)-Solariser and the P-Lunariser (or 'you're really gonna give me sun and moon men outside of Alola, huh')
... Oh, @prince-kallisto, buddy. Look what you've done. xD (/j, been meaning to talk about this for MONTHS.)
My good pal spoke recently on the subject of Hassel's eyes and the significance of Baxcalibur, and it's reminded me yet again how Hassel is painted in the Paldean narrative as the sun, and how Brassius is painted as the moon - and the fact that that's deeply, deeply gay. Now, I've already discussed the fact that Hassel is a Sunflora, and further how one of The Harvests is both Dragon-coloured and features small suns, but let's go more in-depth, shall we? :D
What follows is every example I can find of sun and moon symbolism within these husbands. (They can't keep getting away with this shit. It's just unhinged.)
Let's begin with... well, eyes.
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You know what this is based off? It's a parhelic circle, also known as this thing:
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This is defined in scientific terms as following:
'A luminous halo, each side of the sun parallel to the horizon, caused by refraction of sunlight through ice crystals.'
... Huh. Ice crystals. Almost like the man owns an Ice type, and shows off a literal ice crystal in his classroom!
And just in case, for a singular half-moment of your day, you thought that there wasn't absolute equality in this marriage...
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... Here's the lunar version, also known as a paraselenic circle. And I think, guys, I've seen this somewhere before...
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You know that thing, of looking at someone like they hung the moon because they're the most important person in the world to you?
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... Bit like this, in fact? Yeah. Look at these men, stood here with their fucking sun and moon eyes. I hate both of you intensely. <333
Next, the Sunny Day TM is in Artazon... next to a Surrendering Sunflora.
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(Forgive my jank screenshot here - it's an old one.)
I happen to know from my five-hour meta on these bad boys that this Sunflora also faces solar south, or the part of the day where the sun is highest on the horizon. So, you've put the Sunny Day TM on a cliff that's nearer the sun, facing the sun, beside the sun. Okay Game Freak, very cool, I see you... Brassius' life has been brightened to blinding degrees, yes...
Whilst this isn't the only TM in this game that's in a hilariously appropriate location - TM92 Trick Room being on the roof of the professor's lab, directly above the time machine, springs to mind - it is the only one that's this gay, so... notable.
Next... Brassie is a dragon fruit. Look at this man.
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Because, y'know, half-dragon, half-plant. Like Flapple.
Why is this relevant in a sun and moon meta? Well, the dragon fruit comes from a cacti, and its flowers?
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Which again, seems really familiar...
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... Sweet fucking Arceus. And it gets even better, because dragon fruit also comes in yellow!
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And as with its flowers, yellow dragon fruit really likes the sun.
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... The flower that blossoms only under moonlight, and the fruit that only flourishes in sunlight.
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There is an entire world of spiritual symbolism surrounding Hassius and dragon fruits by the way, which would be going hugely off-topic here, but I'll leave you to chew on these two:
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Mm...
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... Mmmmm.
And just in case this all hasn't killed you off as much as it's killed me, pals, let me stick the final knife in for you.
Flapple's portrait in the Paldea dex is at dusk.
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... Halfway between the day and the night.
Halfway between the sun and the fucking moon.
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