#and one day I ordered too many nuggets and i ordered the rest to him. there were like fifteen nuggets

[mrmallard]

I thought last night about my propensity to spoil media for myself if I don't think I'll ever get around to experiencing it, or sometimes I won't be invested in something as I'm experiencing it or I wasn't particularly interested in the thing to begin with so I'll just read spoilers and get it over and done with. And how my former best friend totally hated it.

Like get this, one time he told me that if he knew that I knew the ending to a movie - not because I'd already seen it, but because I'd read about it beforehand (even if it was years ago) - it made him enjoy it less. At one point he just point-blank asked me what I got out of doing that instead of just watching the movie or playing the game or whatever.

The answer to that is two-fold. First of all, I was a massive fucking hipster and I would seek out weird underrated movies that appealed to my sensibilities instead of Hollywood schlock in the vein of what I grew up watching, because I had the ability to go beneath the surface like that and hunt out niche things that I enjoyed.

Hollywood schlock definitely has its place, he sat me through the Fast and the Furious and Mission Impossible series and I liked both of them well enough, but I would still rather dedicate my time to interesting movies on SBS or what have you. Something I haven't seen before, but which appeals to my sensibilities. On the normie side, I found Booksmart. On the considerably less normie side, I found Castaways on the Moon.

Secondly, I was poor.

I didn't have the latest game consoles - in regards to games, I just legit didn't have a way to experience the new releases for years. My family very rarely bought new DVDs. For years, we had dial-up internet.

I made up for that lack of external media by reading websites and shit. I spent years on TV Tropes, for better or worse. I spent lots of time on IMDB and TV.com and stuff. I hunted interesting media down, even before I could experience it, and anything that had any passing relevance to my interest at the time but which didn't really enchant me got spoiled. I didn't spoil Castaways on the Moon for myself. I did spoil Taken 3, because I never particularly cared enough to watch Taken 3.

But how do you communicate that with someone who tells you that when he knows you read about the ending of a movie, even if it was years ago, he enjoys the movie less? Someone who can't fathom why you would "do that to yourself" instead of watching the movie?

I never cared about the movie. It's nice that I get to watch it now, I'm not complaining in this instance, but I got what I needed and that doesn't cheapen the experience of getting to see it all play out now. I didn't think I would ever get to see it, and with my hipster tastes I didn't really care. Now I'm here, and it's fine. It's not ruining my day. Why would it ruin his?

This is less of a sad emotional reminiscence and more of a case where my former best friend was just kind of acrimonious to who I was, and as much as I thought he was being a tool at the time, it only looks pettier and shittier as time goes on. Fuck that guy.

#messyposting #something similar happened when I ordered mcdonalds to his house - we hung out a lot so I'd get dinner delivered to his place #and one day I ordered too many nuggets and i ordered the rest to him. there were like fifteen nuggets #i gave him fifteen free nuggets #and he got assblasted at me because I didn't order any sauce #i told him I don't get sauce with nuggets. he said thst the sauce is free so I should still get it even if I'm not gonna eat it #i told him I don't eat nuggets with sauce. he told me that I should still get it in case any one else wants some. #i bought those nuggets for me. a person who doesn't eat nuggets with sauce. i was fully planning to eat every last one of them myself #and I offered them to him (autocorrected as ordered earlier). which I was not planning to do. because I had already had too much to eat #and he full on RAISED HIS VOICE AT ME and called me INCONSIDERATE for not considering that anyone else would want sauce #WHEN I WAS THE ONLY PERSON WHO WAS GOING TO BE EATING THE NUGGETS IN THE FIRST PLACE #I gave him free food and he CALLED ME INCONSIDERATE for NOT GETTING SAUCE FOR HIM #WHEN THE NUGGETS WERE *NEVER MEANT FOR HIM IN THE FIRST PLACE* #and he insulted me for not eating nuggets with sauce. and called me selfish. for giving him fifteen nuggets. because there was no sauce #seriously fuck this guy. if he wasn't my closest friend for eight years that probably would have been a friendship ender #i was not a perfect friend by any measure but he was such a sack of shit sometimes. and I only realised how deeply it ran after the falloit #specifically looking over our entire friendship and realising he'd been kicking me while I was down for years #long post

[roosterforme]

Go Big or Go Home | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Once your husband gets going, it's hard to reel him in again. Now that you've told everyone that you're pregnant, you realize he's always going to go a little over the top for you and the baby. But you let him get away with it, because nothing feels quite as important as the love he has for you.

Warnings: Fluff, swearing, slight angst, pregnancy topics

Length: 2000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

You sat in a lounge chair on your back patio, sipping some Gatorade in your oversized sunglasses and watching your sweaty husband doing yard work. He started out an hour ago with a shirt on, but he discarded that in favor of showing off his glistening torso for your entertainment. At least that's what you told yourself. 

"Roo! Come take a break!"

Bradley turned and looked at you as he wiped his brow with his forearm. "Sweetheart. No breaks. I want to get as much done as I can around here now so you don't have to worry about it later."

You sighed. He was going to wear himself out with projects leading up to his deployment. You loved that he wanted to leave you without a dripping faucet in the kitchen and without weeds in the backyard, but sending him off away in a few days if he wasn't well rested was going to spell disaster.

"If I need something done while you're away, I'll call Jake or Cam."

Bradley scoffed but dropped the rake he was using and headed your way in his low slung jeans. "I can't let another man do my yard work. That absolutely goes against guy code." He started to lean down for a kiss, and he smelled so good, you moaned before he even touched you. "Hey now," he said with a smirk, pausing a few inches from your lips. "I have an idea."

"Tell me," you whined.

His smirk grew. "Something that might successfully lure me away from my projects?"

"Yes, we can fuck," you told him immediately, but instead of kissing your lips, he chuckled and dropped to his knees next to your lounger and ran his nose along your shirt. 

"Hold that thought, because we will be doing that later." He nudged the shirt fabric up until his lips met the bare skin of your belly, kissing his new favorite spot on your body. "Hey, little Nugget," he whispered, and your heart melted as you ran your fingers through his sweaty hair. "Think Mommy will go for our scheme?"

You laughed. "You're scheming with the baby? Already?"

"Oh yeah," he told you with a serious nod. "Here's what we're gonna do."

"This should be good," you muttered as he kissed you one more time before pulling your shirt back down.

"How about instead of chores, we spend the rest of the day shopping for baby stuff?"

You took a deep breath and let it out slowly. You were just barely into your second trimester, and it felt early to be buying too many things at this point, but the eager look on Bradley's face had you agreeing. "I'll let you pick out one thing."

His eyes lit up, and you should have known what was coming. "Let's make it five things."

"Bradley," you groaned, and he started kissing your lips in earnest until you giggled. "Fine! Three things! Final offer!"

"Sold."

-----------------------------

"I love this store," Bradley said as he held your hand and walked around the enormous baby depot.

"You've only been here one time!" you reminded him. "And we were shopping for a gift for someone else's baby."

He recalled that day perfectly. It was when you and he both admitted you wanted kids, and he hadn't stopped thinking about expanding his family with you since then. "I still love it," he said, pulling you toward the baby clothes. He desperately wanted to buy his child their first outfit, but he didn't know what would be suitable. Something told him he'd know what he wanted when he saw it.

The main issue he was having right now was your libido. He'd skipped a shower in favor of coming right here, and somehow you seemed even worse than usual. Even more wound up. "You smell so good," you whispered, pressing yourself against him as soon as he stopped to look around. Even as he throbbed for you, he told himself he needed to stay on task.

"Baby Girl, I will let you do anything you want to me," he swore, and your eyes glittered. "Later. After I pick out my three things for the Nugget."

"Well, hurry up," you whispered, running your fingers low on his abs while he looked at some onesies. "I'm horny."

He kissed the top of your head and guided you along. "I know you are. I won't leave you hanging." And he wouldn't. He'd be gone soon, sent away to some undisclosed location for some undisclosed amount of time where he'd have no access to you or the Nugget. He'd give you everything you wanted and needed right now, but this little shopping trip was something for him. He needed this. There was always the fear in the back of his mind that he might not return. 

"These are cute sunglasses," you mused, still running one hand along his body. "Little aviators."

Bradley felt like his insides were going to melt as you held up the tiniest pair of sunglasses he'd ever seen in his life. "Holy shit," he muttered when you handed them to him. "These are fucking adorable, Sweetheart. Good find. Our baby is going to look so damn cool."

"What did I tell you about swearing so much?" you said as you rubbed your face on his shirt. Bradley knew you were a ticking time bomb at the moment. He needed to make his selections and get you out before you started to whine for him.

"I'll fucking behave," he replied, making you laugh. And that was when he saw it. The perfect onesie. His child needed to have it. He made a beeline toward the shelf and snatched it up as you followed behind him.

"That's cute!" you said, running your fingers along the airplane and the clouds that spelled out Aim for the Sky. The clothing sizes went by months, which was very confusing to him. Surely the baby wouldn't be growing that fast? Needing new clothing every few weeks?

"Just to be sure," he muttered, grabbing the onesie in several sizes. "Okay, that's item number one of three."

"Technically that looks like four items to me, Bradley. Why are you getting so many onesies?"

"In case the Nugget grows at super speeds. I'm going to want to take a million photos of this outfit."

When he gave you his saddest eyes, you groaned and said, "Fine. Nugget's first outfit has been acquired. Pick two more items, and we can go home and get in bed."

With a grin, he started to lead you around the store. He wanted to get the baby a toy, but he wasn't sure which would be the best. Jake had been telling him about everything he wanted to buy for Jeremiah, and some of it sounded fun, but once again, he wanted the Nugget to have something unique. One of a kind. Only the best shit for his kid.

"Oh my god!" he exclaimed, thrusting the onesies and aviators into your hands and running to the end of the aisle. "That's it!" He was hitting the enormous box with his palm over and over again. "Look at this! It's perfect!"

"Roo, it's five hundred bucks, and the baby won't even be able to use it for a few years," you warned, but it was too late. He was already sliding the box from the shelf and carrying it to the front of the store. "Bradley!"

"It's one of my three items! Now help guide me. This thing is massive."

With great joy, he paid for the orange Bronco Power Wheels and carried the box out to his full sized blue Bronco and fit it in the back while you held the bag containing the onesies and sunglasses. "I am so afraid to ask what your third item is going to be," you said as he struggled to make the box fit. But he had an idea. He'd had an idea for ages. It was part of the reason he had been trying to clean up the backyard a little bit more and even out the soil next to the shed.

When he closed the tailgate, he kissed your forehead gently. "There's nothing to be afraid of," he said calmly as he buckled you in the passenger seat and leaned down to kiss your belly. "The Nugget and I know exactly what to get."

You rolled your eyes and then asked what he was scheming up now. You asked the entire way home what he was going to buy, and he was only able to finally distract you once he had his clothes off in the bedroom. "Don't worry about it, Baby Girl. Worry about the fact that you won't be able to walk straight in half an hour."

----------------------------

Bradley never told you what else he was going to buy, but later that night, you had the suspicion that it had already been purchased. You spent the evening with him out in the garage, sitting on his bench press and eating a bag of pretzels while he put the Power Wheels together on a tarp on the floor. 

"Can't leave the baby out," he muttered as he screwed the doors on. "Now we all have our own Bronco."

He looked adorable, his hair messy from how you'd had your fingers tangled in it, and the eager look on his face was something you'd desperately miss when he was gone. "The box says ages three to seven," you reminded him before you bit into a pretzel, but he just grunted in response. "And what if the Nugget doesn't like Broncos?" you asked just to tease him, earning a glare in response.

"The baby will have impeccable taste," he muttered, turning the page in the instruction booklet. "Broncos and hot sauce and airplanes."

You waited a few seconds until he looked very distracted, and then you softly asked, "What's the third thing you bought?"

He hummed as he located the set of screws he would need for the hood. "You'll see soon enough. It's being delivered tomorrow."

Tomorrow was Monday. He was leaving on Wednesday. "It's not something big that will need to be assembled like the Power Wheels, right?" He had the guiltiest expression on his face as he turned to look up at you. "Right?" you repeated. "Bradley!"

You got your answer the following morning when you were squeezing into your new uniform pants which were a size larger than your old ones. You were dreading the thought of having to start wearing a maternity uniform to work and went with new pants to buy yourself some time. You froze with your zipper halfway pulled up and called out to Bradley in the kitchen. "What's that sound?"

"Uh... it's the third thing for the Nugget being delivered," he replied, and you immediately headed for your front door and the repetitive beeping sound coming from outside. "Don't freak out," he said as he came up behind you as you wrenched the front door open. 

Bradley had already seemingly moved both Broncos to the street in anticipation of the forklift that was moving wooden pallets wrapped up in plastic onto the driveway. "Do I even want to know?" you whispered as the forklift backed up to scoop another pallet off of the truck that was parked in the middle of your street. 

He wrapped his arms around you from behind and let his hands rest on your bloated belly while he nuzzled your ear. "It's a thirty-seven piece jungle gym playset for the backyard."

"A thirty-seven piece...."

"The Nugget and I both really wanted it."

You pinched the bridge of your nose as your dog plopped down next to your feet, and the three of you watched the forklift make several more trips up the driveway. "Don't you dare try to buy anything else right now. Do you understand me?"

---------------------------

Nothing says 'Bradley's child' quite like baby's first Bronco. And he's so precious, he's already built the thing. He's been daydreaming about the playset for long enough that it was bound to happen, too. Let's send him on this deployment and get him back home to his wifey and his Nugget. Stay tuned for more! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@chassy21

@solacestyles

@daisyhollyxox

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#bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x you #rooster x reader #rooster fanfiction #rooster imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #roosterforme #go big or go home

[talesfrommedinastation]

My Redneck Neighbor Doug has watched The Bad Batch Season 3 opener:

LEEEEET'S GET READY TO RUMBLE!

This is more pithy than normal: Doug's been busy with work, as have I. But I'm determined to hear his thoughts on The Daddy Warcrimes 'n Company so here we go!

These were all via text messages, btw.

CW: Doug Doug's as you know Doug will do. Away!

---------------------------------------------------

Episode 1: 'Little Orphan Blondie's Shit Internship at The Museum of Science and Industry'

Poor Little Orphan Blondie, stuck in The Museum of Science and Industry in a shit summer job because they got bills to pay. Except they got rid of the dinosaurs and walk in heart and filled it with gross shit.

Hey look, they still got the coal mine exhibit! Man I miss Chicago.

(Doug, that museum has never had dinosaurs. “What, since when?”)

MUTANT JIMMERS EVERYWHERE! Aw, Little Orphan Blondie gave one her chicken nuggets! And it’s shy, aw, I hope it’s okay.

Poor Mutant Jimmers…she named her?! Swear to Christ Almighty if that dog gets Old Yeller’d I’ll just lose it. 

That freaky alien thing that ran the mall on the ocean looks sad, I bet she wishes she fell into the water and got eaten by a shark or something. I wish you did too, lady. 

The Sons of Robocop really are everywhere, they must be a cult or something. They look cool, I’d join, why not. Think they get 401ks?

Oh man, Daddy Warcrimes is down bad. Poor Daddy Warcrimes. Man, all my clone boys are stooped and sad…this ain’t good. 

At least Little Orphan Blondie can craft! Man, she should start selling those at the Museum of Science and Industry’s gift shop. Maybe Tarkin can bring one back for the grandchildren he’s not allowed to talk to since the restraining order was put in.

Oh, there’s Stepsister Beth, she seems on edge. Must’ve gotten divorced recently, don’t blame her ex, I bet she screamed at him for leaving cabinets open who knows. How do her eyeballs not hurt after wearing those dumb glasses all day?

Episode 2: 'Night Elves and Neverland Ranch'

The night elves from Warcraft invaded Star Wars and got horns or something and now they have a castle that looks like a boss level in Diablo IV or V or how many Diablo games they got now.

Now they yelling at people and throwing them in the basement today. Makes sense, gotta fight the orcs and stuff. Think they fight the orcs in the basement?

The Night Elf Horned Queen hired Daddy Rambo and Julio to get people, I guess they’re turning into Boba Fett or something. They got her son's horn back, guess that's good. Oh they need new paint jobs on their armor.

Do they end up in the basement in the Diablo Boss Level? No? And off they go! 

Daddy Rambo and Julio are in their homeland of FLORIDA! Hell yeah, SPACE FLORIDA! And they’re bringing the talking trashcan with them using straps! Go Julio go!  Yeah, boa vines, this is TOTALLY the Everglades! 

Escaped clone boys! Oh man! Shit, is Neverland Ranch in the jungle? Oh man–oh, they know what they’re doing. Good kids. Real good kids. Oh what happened to the rest of them? Oh Meat Muffin, this ain't good :(.

You know what? Them clone boys are smart, take it back, this ain’t Space Florida, this is Space Louisiana! Them baby boys gone get feral and run off into the bayou and live in the caves and now you know my origin story, Meat Muffin! 

If this was Florida they'd just end up working the late shift at Zaxby's and smoking rocks in the parking lot. We know better, we French and all.

I bet they’ve been living on nutria and half-empty chicken boxes from behind the gas stations. Resourceful scrappy kids and I can tell its making Daddy Rambo proud.

Oh holy SHIT, there go them vines! It's like the kudzu all over again, maybe this is LaFourche Parish?

See, them boys are definitely white trash, Mandalorian rednecks. Look at em, living in the woods and hijacking a plane, but they good kids, saving their brothers. Even saved the robot too. 

Man, all the feels, them poor little boys. What will they do now?  Oh, they're going to Space Daytona! Good, wait, I saw the trailer, doesn't the Empire invade it? THIS AIN'T GOOD MEAT MUFFIN!!!

Wait...where's Toaster Strudel and Rex?

Episode 3: 'Blondie Got a Gun'

Well here's the Emperor. He wants to be immortal. Gotta make that other movie make sense or something.

Where's Darth Vader? Is he running the government when the Emperor is running around giggling?

Don’t you DARE kill Mutant Jimmers, you damn droid. I hate that ugly assed stupid thing. It looks like its scarecrow daddy fucked a microwave and then left it enough money to go to Planned Parenthood but instead spent it on crack and there ya go.  

Oh shut your goddamned yap, Jimmy the Scientist. I bet he gloves that hand up because he keeps shoving it up his own ass and that's why he walks funny all the damn time.

The Emperor also has a Diablo IV or VIII boss level all to himself too at the Museum of Science and Industry. How many Diablo games are there, Meat Muffin?

YEAH, LITTLE ORPHAN BLONDIE! GIT ER DONE!!! They're out! Oh wow! There she goes with Daddy Warcrimes! Kill em all and let GOD SORT THEM OUT! That's my GIRL!!!!

Blondie’s got a gun 

Blondie’s got a gun

Her whole world's come undone

Shooting droids is FUN!

GO MUTANT JIMMERS GO!!!! 

YEAH BLONDIE DADDY WARCRIMES AND MUTANT JIMMERS!!!!!!

I AIN'T A BULLS FAN BUT REPEAT THE THREE PEAT! YEAH!!!!!!

....so when we gonna get Toaster Strudel and Rex? Next one? Where's my reg boys?!

-----------------

Tagging those who missed my Cajun neighbor. LOOKS LIKE REDNECK DOUG IS BACK ON THE MENU, BOYS!

@skellymom @amalthiaph @eyecandyeoz @cdblake1565 @sued134 @merkitty49 @supremechancellorrex @yeehawgeek @wrenkenstein @techs-stitches @deezlees @autistic-artistech @perfectlywingedcrusade @auntie-venom @megmca @thecoffeelorian

#tbb #cloneforce99 #thebadbatch #redneck doug #doug watches star wars #star wars tv #cajun doug #doug why #star wars fans #the bad batch #the bad batch season 3 #bad batch season 3 #tbb season three #tbb spoilers #tbb s3 #fan reaction

[grandwretch]

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]

#my fic #monster hunting and werewolves and such #but it's slow burn #steddie #steve harrington #super steve centric #also autistic steve imo #uh yeah das it #only I must wander

[allfryam]

Spider-fat part 1

Peter was your average college student. He liked sports, did well in most of his classes, and had plenty of friends. But he had one big secret. He was Spider-Man. He had never told anyone. Many people were beginning to become suspicious however. This was mainly because of his amazing body. Peter had rock hard abs and bulging biceps. His toned muscles were all formed because of being Spider-Man. His friends would ask him how he was able to look so good without ever going to the gym. Peter just brushed it off as good genes.

After months of peters friends questioning him, peter decided to come up with a plan to stop them. While being Spider-Man had lots of perks, it also had some drawbacks. Peter had an enormous appetite. He could clear a buffet without breaking a sweat. Of course, he had to control himself or he would gain weight. And who ever heard of a fat Spider-Man. But this gave peter an idea. If he put on a few pounds, people would stop suspecting him as Spider-Man.

the next day, peter went crazy. For breakfast, he ate 10 pancakes drenched with butter and syrup, as well as a dozen scrambled eggs. And he washed it all down with a pint of orange juice. Peter liked the feeling of being full. His tight stomach made him feel confident. On his lunch break, Peter was still a little full from breakfast but he knew he couldn’t stop eating. There was a McDonald’s across the street from his office that he decided to go to. Peter ordered a Big Mac, 3 large fries, and a large coke. “14.85” said the cashier. “I’m not done” said Peter. The cashier looked shocked, but a little intrigued as Peter ordered 20 nuggets, a double quarter pounder, and a large chocolate shake for dessert.

Peter picked up a pizza on the way home and ate the entire thing by himself. He went to bed rubbing his tight stomach.

as the weeks passed, peter had gained about 20 pounds. His six pack had turned into a sizable gut, and his ass was a little thicker too. Peter decided it was a good stopping point to get people off his trail. He tried to eat a small breakfast but he was too hungry. He decided that one more day wouldn’t hurt so he ate his usual massive breakfast. Peter had began to develop a relationship with the cashier at McDonald’s because he would go everyday on his lunch break. Kevin, the cashier, had invited peter over for dinner that night, and Peter couldn’t turn up free food. Peter showed up with an empty stomach, and a button up shirt that was beginning to feel a little tight. Kevin welcomed him and Peter saw the massive spread that he had prepared. There was an entire chicken, baked potatoes, turkey, loads of vegetables, and burgers. Peter was almost drooling at the sight of all of the food. He took a seat and loaded his plate with a mountain of delicious food. Peter was in a hungry daze as he shoved handfuls of fettening food into his expanding gut. Peter was stuffed. He leaned back in his chair and let out a massive burp. “I can’t eat another bite” he said. “But look at all these leftovers. I would hate to have to throw them away.” Kevin said. Not wanting to make a bad impression, Peter reluctantly continued to eat. With every bite he could feel the buttons on his shirt getting tighter. He finished the rest of the food and he felt like he could pass out. Peter sat in his chair groaning as Kevin walked into the kitchen. What else could he possibly be getting? A few minutes later, he came back with a platter of desserts. It contained pies, cakes, muffins, pastries, cookies, and more. It was the most appetizing dessert peter had ever seen. “I don’t think I can…” Peter said. “Come on… sugar expands your stomach. It won’t even make you feel full.” Before peter could protest, Kevin had scooped two pieces of pie, a scoop of ice cream, and a thick slice of cake onto peters plate. Peter slugged his way through the desserts, giving up on silverware. He decided to just use his hands to shove his dessert filled hands into his mouth. As Peter shoveled the last bite of cake into his mouth, he felt a pop. He looked down to see a button had popped off his shirt, revealing his tight, fuzzy belly. Kevin decided it would be best for Peter to stay at his house for the night.

to be continued…

#gaining fat #fat belly #fat #fatty piggy #fat piggy #fatty #immobile #fat boy #chubby #bloating #wg #belly expansion

[silencingspellsongs]

your honor, she's rambling again (discussing stuff from early access 9/22)

so the sovereigns definitely have something up their sleeves and seers are integral to it. why else is it so important for then to use blake that they're going through all this trouble just to break him? what is it about him that makes him so useful if not for his seer abilities? maybe it's the fact that he's already in the edge of desperation, ready to do anything to get what he wants.

my brain is feeling a little slow today so making all the connections and writing them out eloquently is difficult but i swear there is a tie between the sovereigns and seers and that tie has to do with death. a seer's first vision when their sight manifests is of their own death. sovereigns lie in a prison in death. they are the river. are the sovereigns responsible for gifting seers the sight, or at the very least are they the ones that feed them the vision of their death? why? maybe it was in the hopes that they would get desperate. desperate to escape the inescapable. desperate enough to go looking for answers on how to stop it. desperate, like a certain seer we know. but he's not trying to stop his own death. and maybe that's what makes blake so special. all the other seers know there's no way to escape their own deaths so why fight? it wouldn't be worth it. but blake has something to fight for that's more important to him than even his own death. and that's what the sovereigns have been waiting for.

we know that seers are special in many ways. one of the big ones is that they can learn any magic at a specialist's level which when you think about it is INSANE. freelancers are the only other humans that can learn any type of magic without being preordained with a speciality but theirs is on a "jack of all trades, master of none" basis. for seers to be able to learn any magic at a high enough level that they can even outclass those that are specialized in it, they must hold an incredible amount of power. according to the lore, we know that freelancers came from rak'xit, the sovereign of the inchoates, in a last ditch effort to create enough human empowered to tip the scales and defeat the rest of the sovereigns. so i wonder then... who made seers?

there was a nugget of lore from one of the anniversary trivia games that comes to mind. seers exist because of vampires. now how the hell is that possible, what could possibly connect vampires and seers? well. we know that a certain sovereign, a'xerhan, experimented heavily on humans to try and warp them into something more akin to d(a)emons and when it backfired it made vampires. hmm.... maybe a'xerhan's experiment failed but what if it just unlocked the potential for something else? i don't think a'xerhan made the seers but i wonder if another sovereign did, using their experimental creation of vampires to do so... but which sovereign could have possibly made a race of humans specialized in all types of magic? looks over at rak'xit 👀

could rak'xit have known a rebellion was on the wind back then and in secret made a small group of almost supercharged unspecialized empowered humans before that big final push of his to turn the tides that resulted in such a large but watered down unspecialized empowered populace? and if so, what's the significance of giving them the sight... maybe it was with the hope that they could be the ones to protect humanity from threats like this in the future. but could he have known that he was accidentally creating the very tool that his imprisoned siblings would one day manipulate in order to escape? hmm

(i wanted to also add in the lore nugget of there not being any seers in the imperium and what that would mean for all of this too but that would mean i gotta relisten to the imperium to brush up on the lore and besties i am not in the right mind to break down on this lovely saturday afternoon so if someone else wants to jump in and fill in those blanks for me feel free 👍)

#argent theories #redactedverse #redacted audio #redacted ea spoilers #redacted theories #redacted the balance #when you get ideas and you know if you dont write them out NOW youll lose them #but your brain is in soft mushy state so you dont know if your point even came across well enough #i leave this in your hands my friends and then i go take a nap

[fatfables]

Fat People Can Sing Too (Part Seven)

In the morning both of them felt awkward, conversation between them was stilted, and David left immediately after ordering Ben a measly fifteen waffles for breakfast. Ben spent the rest of the day doing voice training with Brian who was being weirdly nice to him. “You’re sounding fucking great today. Tomorrow we will pick you a song that will really allow you to demonstrate your range and give you the best chance of winning.”

David returned on Tuesday morning. Nothing was said about their night together. His focus was now firmly on helping Ben to win the final that Saturday, nothing else mattered. David resumed his duties with admirable dedication and doubled down on feeding Ben up to be the biggest star that he could possibly be.

Ben was placed on a strict diet of twelve thousand calories a day. He was once more banned from consuming alcohol as this could be bad for his voice and reputation, the focus was now simply on high fat foods, carbs, and sugars. David had designed a menu that consisted of three very round meals a day plus snacks. Tuesday's breakfast included cereals, a fry up, a continental buffet, and pancakes - a shit ton of pancakes. So many that Ben had consumed four thousand calories before midday. Lunch started with sliders, continued with burgers, and concluded with a whole cheesecake. The afternoon was spent practising with Brian, the exertion of which made Ben super hungry for dinner. Three plates of pasta carbonara with extra cheese, thirty chicken tenders with honey mustard sauce, and a whole sticky toffee pudding slid easily down his gluttonous gullet. The pasta and pudding were super thick and heavy. He could feel the pounds of extra weight sitting in his ever expanding stomach. It gave him a feeling of complete contentment. He needed more.

Him and David spent the early evening watching a film and snacking on chips, cookies, and cola. Ben greedily munched and glugged his way through two tubes of pringles, three packets of jaffa cakes and four litres of full fat coke. When David left at ten pm he ordered himself three double quarter pounders with cheese, twenty seven chicken nuggets and six chocolate donuts. He hadn’t wanted to appear to be a pig in front of his friend. He could feel his stomach stretching and straining as he ate, he grabbed his thick love handles and rubbed the swollen underside of his expanding gut. It felt so good to be so fat. It satiated him. As he continued to fill his boots he continued to play with his soft luxurious fat. He squeezed his bulbous breasts and stroked his thick inner thighs. His dick was as hard as his stomach as he loaded more heavy calories into his upper digestive system. The cheesy burger patties melted in his mouth, the mayo smothered nuggets were swallowed whole. He consumed all of them with a frenzied intensity that made him feel light headed. His overblown body sank into the couch too fatigued to do anything except eat more. He savoured each sweet sugar rich donut as the abdominal pain intensified. As he munched and swallowed each one he stroked his dick as his brain sank into utopic bliss. The room began to spin. He was thirstier than he’d ever been but only had three large cokes left. He glugged them down with enthusiasm as his vision began to blur. His whole belly shook as he burped. He was a total food balloon. His podgy feet began to tingle as the room began to spin. He savoured the chocolatey flavour of the final donut as his greedy tongue licked his fat lips. He was still hungry when he passed out. He woke up in the hospital.

A handsome young doctor with thick brown hair and piercing green eyes was talking to him, “Mr Sherman, you’ve suffered a diabetic attack due to your pancreas not producing enough insulin. I can see from your file that you’ve not previously been diagnosed with diabetes, however, it’s quite obvious to me that you have developed type two diabetes most likely due to your obesity. You have a very unhealthy BMI Mr Sherman. You will be discharged today but only after a nurse has explained everything to you. You are going to need regular insulin injections. I am also recommending you for a weight loss programme.” Ben was listening but he wasn’t taking any of it in. All he could think about was the final show in a few days time, how he had to keep gaining, and just how badly he wanted this doctor to fuck him.

Brian and David were waiting for him when he got back to the hotel. “Where the fuck have you been?” Brian barked at him, “You’ve missed two meals and today's practice!” Ben lied and just said that he had something important to do. “Well we’ve got just the thing to ensure that belly of yours is as round and swollen as possible,” David said as he pulled a funnel and pipe out of his bag. Ben’s eyes lit up with delight. Brian was right, he had missed two meals, and he was really fucking hungry.

The sensation was as good as sex, no better! Ben had never known such pleasure. The cold smooth mix of melted ice cream, double cream, raspberry sauce, jam, and protein powder fell down his gullet. His greedy lips and tongue barely got to taste the sweet milkshake as gravity sent it directly down his oesophagus and into his already swollen and expanded stomach bag. Over those few days David sent tens of thousands of calories straight into Ben’s humongous belly. He had never felt so full. He had never felt so fat. He continued to bloat and grow beautifully. He never got dressed and never left his hotel room. He wore only an XXXL dressing gown that he could no longer do up over his extensive and extending beach ball belly. He added layers of fat to his belly, tits, ass, and thighs. He was now as round as he was tall. His hands and feet looked like they’d been injected with pudge. His arms and legs were so round and flabby that they could have been made out of chocolate cheesecake. His face was wide and swollen with puffed out chipmunk cheeks and a thick heavy double chin. He wore an almost constant smile as he filled himself with every sweet treat and desert known to man. He was going to be a pop star. He was going to be famous. He was going to win.

#gainer stories #feederism kink #gay gainer #gay gainer stories #weight gain stories #bhm weight gain #gaining fat #fat belly #fat boy #big fatty #male wg #wg story

[official-amadoxjigen]

kara characters as my wendy’s shift

Jigen

General manager

Zero customer service. He doesn’t do it. If you call the store, he won’t answer.

If you come up to complain about an order, he says “i find that hard to believe” and kicks you out of the store.

No refunds

No flaps on the boxes

Does not care about requested time off, other priorities, school, emergencies, etc when writing the schedule.

It doesn’t matter how many weeks in advance you put it in. He will read it in front of you and proceed to ignore it.

Charges you if you lose your shirt or hat.

Manager meals are $10 or under. This is not company policy. It’s Jigen policy.

Despite this the store is still bleeding money.

Any position he does he is confusingly slow at.

Rarely puts himself online.

If he does he will only do orders and back reg.

Hobby is sitting in the office and walking around the store every hour or so to tell everyone what they’re doing wrong.

Always goes to the bank himself. Amado is not allowed to leave the store. He knows he may never return.

Amado

Opening manager

Who also closes, often back to back

He really wants to write the schedule, but Jigen won’t let him.

Always picking up the slack, doing 3 positions at once

Has been known to get frustrated and yell during a confusing lunch rush, but no one takes him seriously. Often seen being talked back to by teenagers.

Always carrying his clipboard with the schedule and losing it subsequently.

Actually good at his job

Boro

Grill

I’ve never seen an anime character who’s going to come in at 10:30 to do grill all day more than Boro

Definitely does not pay attention to hold times or clean anything behind himself.

Always grabs the wrong spatula

Always forgets to drop potatoes and gets mad when you suggest it to him because “we never sell potatoes”

Doesn’t use gloves when dropping chicken

If he has gloves, does not change them

Washes his hands when directly told to his face to do so

Can do fries in a pinch but will be slow and triggered

Code

Average teenager trained on orders, hand out, and front counter

Believes that not being able to legally drop fries prevents him from getting his own fries and nuggets

Other than that fully capable at all three positions, but will never go out of his way to help any other position

Even in a rush when he clearly has nothing to do, he will stand there silently with a disastrous handout station

Never pulls cars. Stands there like an NPC for seven minutes when waiting on something before asking whatever manager happens to wander into his line of sight what he should do

Best to put him on orders or front because of this even though he starts sassing customers after more than an hour of either position.

You can technically make him do post rush or various prep tasks but be prepared for this to take him way way longer than it ever should.

If you tell him to clean the lobby he’ll go get the trays and come back. If Jigen is there he will wipe down tables too.

Tells Amado when he’s going on his breaks and when he’s off and does not wait for response or acknowledgment.

Surprisingly, has never called off

When Jigen scolds him for something he will overcompensate for the rest of the day. Jigen says to pull more cars? He pulls every car and confuses himself. 

Jigen says to upcharge? Automatically makes every customer’s order a large without asking.

Delta

Thinks you have to kick the nonexistent motion sensor on the wall to open the window.

Can do most positions but will never volunteer herself.

Usually on handout or orders, but ideally fries. She’ll complain no matter what.

A boss at multitasking, but incapable of comprehending when the order gets changed on back reg or the tickets get switched.

If she’s at the window, whatever she’s doing, it is HER window. A total control freak.

Will interrupt you in the middle of taking an order to ask a question she believes needs to be asked.

Expects everyone else to restock for her somehow.

If you tell her to train a new person on handout, she’ll just do orders and handout and make the new person put napkins in the bags and hand out the drinks.

Banned from collecting money since her till is always short.

High ponytail does nothing to prevent hair-in-food accusations

On orders she will put everything in her pockets on the counter for no reason. Phone, wallet, keys, lip gloss, hair ties, drink she’s not supposed to have online.

Leaves twelve half full cups in the break room with her straws stabbed through receipts so no one takes them.

Kashin Koji

Amado’s super reliable friend he hired who calls off on 7/10 shifts

Capable of fries, grill, and sandwiches when he is here

Randomly disappears. When he returns it is discovered he was on his break. 

Why he gets 5 a day, no one knows

A complete non-entity

Was accidentally put on front counter once and actually did nothing.

A better line 2 sandwich maker than line 1

Announces all sandwiches as he gives them to you but he is wrong half the time and there’s no reason for it

“It’s a wait for nuggets” “How long?” “...” *is gone*

Won’t remake sandwiches or fries when asked, will instead engage in a long debate about where the one he made you already would have hypothetically ended up 

#headcanons #kara

[lord-dusk]

My name is Lily Pale, and I work as a student event organizer at my local community college-well, USED to. I got fired. I wasn't really terrible-in fact, i'd dare say I'm quite skilled by drawing and hanging up signs and banners-the problem was that I was often called into last minute projects with my manager and with a few taught discussions about the agreement over payment, I snapped and stormed out of the campus. I could care less about the countless nursing students enrolling just to get an easy pouch of moolah. Losing my job was a doubled-edged sword. On one hand, I no longer had to deal with supposed adults who do homework assignments a 5th grader can solve, but simultaneously there weren't many job options for women like me. Hell, even 25 year-old women are laid off because they're either "too old" or "too ugly"- Wait a minute. I glanced down at my body as I walked back to my apartment not far from the college. My breasts were larger than average, my hips were wide curvaceous, as though they may ease childbirth. And I had a dainty face fitted with specs, which is a bonus to guys who like their waifus with glasses. It was then I was struck with a bolt of electricity that I can become a streamer that draws NSFW webcomics. No more censorship sanctions, I quickly hurried home to start drawing. ****** "Welcome back Lily. I just made your favorite, carrot-free fried rice with shrimp." "Hello K. And thank you." K was my roommate. A tall, kind man who did the chores around the apartment while I'm gone. Did I mention K was a hell of a awesome cook and a adept gamer? "You seem to be in high spirits." K complimented as he set our bowls unto the table. "Did something good happen today?" "Just like how forest fires ignite forth new sprouts, I'm going to become a streamer after i lost my job." K eyed for a short moment. "How are you going to compete? Sure, you have the physique of an anime character from a seinen manga, but what would make you stand out?" He was right. Even drawing NSFW webcomics wasn't going to suffie, let alone my mere appearance. I paused gulping down spoonfuls of rice, and thouht hard and through. I then remembered reading an article in a magazine once that stated that because women become physically more attractive pregnant,more and more shows and comics casted them to feed a growing audience. "...K? You've often stated you wanted kids, yes? If you want to pump some into me, let's do it after dinner." I resumed eating. K's eyes widened, like a cat about to pounce a mouse. "Do you really mean it? i mean, sure, whether you want two or eight, keeping them or giving them awayfor adoption-" "Yes. Who knew pregnancy was a huge money-maker?" We continued on with our dinner. ****** "Let me know if you feel any pain," K said as he eyed my spread out thighs while advancng upon me, his hands unzipping his fly. "Please, K, don't worry, go all out." I assured him, lifting my shirt and pointing to below my navel. "Don't hold back." "Cowabunga!!" K leapt upon me. ****** Our child squirmed and rolled in my ever-protrusive stomach as I groggily got up from bed and donned my glasses, heading to the bathroom for a quick leak. It was surprisingly straightforward with my new career. The number of patrons and watchers grew alonside my belly, like moths swarming all over a street lamp. K often rubbed and groped my belly, even hugging it on stream while I was working, following my making out with him in front of my audience. Living the life I was! Okay, I admit, sometimes its hard to walk with 10 lbs of baby resting on your pelvis, I often ate miso soup filled with chicken nuggets and cookie crumbs, and almost none of my clothes fit me anymore. Aaaand I had to use the restroom alot. But then again, you have shrink a few pencils in order to make a master drawing. I worked vigorously. if I was particularly lecherous it took about six days to produce a 20-page comic. I also grew in status so quickly I actually bcoame sponsored by a gaming company, offering me a $500,000 check for permission to feature their promational characters in my comics. How could I decline? I sat on the toilet, feeling clenching my stomach. Somehow, the baby felt...lower? I couldn't describe the feeling. It was a bit annoying having to pee every 8 minutes. Finally, it stopped. I got up, just about ready to leave the restroom to start my stream when a waterfall suddenly poured out from my inner regions followed my an immense pain from my stomach. Oh no. It's time. I screamed as i fell to my knees. How could I have been ignorant about the pain of labor? "What's wrong, Lily?" K asked as he flipped from the bed and laid his hand on my shoulder. "Are you alright?" "Does it look like I'm alright you dumb little butt-brain? I'm going to give birth right here, right-ow! Ow! Oooooow!" I shireked between clenched teeth. K wasted no time to rush to the bathroom and return with some towels. He laid them out underneath my thighs as he spread them apart. "Now Lily, I know this is going to hurt, but try to push between breaths." K said as he gently pressed his hands below my stomach. "Euuuugh-huff-Euuugh-EUUUUGH!!!" I pushed and puffed, as K pressed his hands as the last few squirts of fluid gushed out.

#bubbly parfait #fanfic #bunny girl #pregnant #lily pale

[iankarlo]

Extra Busy | 40th

I still feel unwell. My head aches so bad the entire day and I didn't even manage to eat my lunch. I felt better around 3pm after dealing with so many tasks in the office. Phone calls left and right, checking and tracking the concerns, and time pressure from my project managers. 

It's my sissums birthday today and even though I am still annoyed with his actions last Friday, I tried to talk to him already or notice him once in a while. I bought him a present and gave it to him after our lunch break. 

I went out with them but I still chose to be silent and walked with Abi cause we planned to buy some strings for our decors. I hope we can finish it tomorrow. I will be dealing with the christmas tree made out of popsicle sticks. 

We still need to buy some garlands so we can finalize them all. I hope by end of the week we will only be doing finishing touches. We are still far but I know once we put all the strings in our roof, we can make it work already. It is just a simple design and I hope they will like it. 

I went to eat dinner with Jehan cause since yesterday I am craving for Mcdonalds meal. I ordered chicken fillet and he got mushroom pepper steak. We also got some shake shale fries cause we planned to order nuggets too but we realized its kinda expensive. 

I got home after we ate and I was just scrolling in shoppee to look for the gifts I will send this Christmas. I am still thinking that to buy so I hope I can pull them all quickly.

The night passed so swift and I am torn if I will take a bath or not. I still chose to take a bath so I will not do it tomorrow morning. 

Buloy posted some selfies earlier and he is really cute on those photos. I really like to see him in person soon. Maybe have a cup of coffee or beach as he promised. 

I am still thinking what will I send to him this Christmas. I hope I can make some good Christmas gift for him. A special one maybe?

Anyway, I am sleepy already and I need to get some rest. Good night.

Love always,

iankarlo

#christmasjournal #workstress #buloy #christmasgifts

[readerstories]

Magic Fingers - Aaron Hotchner x male!reader

I got so many other ideas for fics with Aaron and male reader, this was just an excuse to write some “shorter” smut while I work on some longer fics. (AO3)

Warnings: smut, clothed sex

Wordcount: 2978

Summary: Working hard on a case you offer to give Hotch a massage, because the man is as stiff and tense as a block of wood. (And maybe you want to get your hands on him, but that’s neither here nor there).

The case had been hard, challenging, brutal, and difficult, which had caused the whole team to work on overdrive for the last few days with very little sleep. Which was why Hotch had ordered everyone back to the hotel to get some sleep, as none of you were going to get anywhere being as sleep deprived as you were.

He had tried to stay behind himself, but you had more or less dragged him back to a car while reminding him that even he was human and needed rest. Back at the hotel, in your shared room (because of course with your luck there wasn’t any single rooms left in the hotel for anyone in the team), you stretch before sitting down on your own bed, Hotch walking over to his.

You could see how tense he was, how much he needed to relax. Which was easier said then done when Hotch took as much responsibility as he did, always making sure everything possible was done to catch the unsub and save anyone who might get in harms way. Which was an admirable trait of his, but you could tell by his posture how stiff he had gotten over the last few days. The way he held himself spoke volumes to you, even though you knew he tried to shield it from the world and keep it to himself.

“Hotch?” He looks away from his jacket, the only item of his suit he has manged to force himself out of so far, while your jacket, shoes, and tie was long gone. You pat the edge of the bed next to where you are sitting, Hotch looks skeptical.

“Come on, you need to relax.”

“What does me sitting next to you have anything to do with that?”

“Let me give you a massage.” He raises a brow and you sigh, shifting so you’re kneeling on the bed instead.

“You’ve seen my resume, you know you I thought about going into massage therapy at one point.” Still, Hotch doesn’t move, so you know you have to do more to convince him.

“Remember when Reid had slept on his neck all wrong that one time after staying up way too late and I helped? Or when Morgan messed up his shoulder when going after an unsub and couldn’t sleep for days, and after a massage he finally could? It was the closest I’ve ever seen the man to weeping. Or when JJ was pregnant and hurting, but after letting me give her a massage she joked that if she didn’t love Will, and I wasn’t gay, she would have married me? Hotch, at this point I’ve given a massage to everyone on the team but you, so, get.”

You make a grabby motion with your hands. Hotch sigh, seeming to finally get how serious and stubborn you were being in that moment. He takes off his tie and shoes on the way over to the bed, but doesn’t do anything else, which makes everything a bit harder, but hey, you’ll take anything you’ll get. As Hotch sits down you’re greeted by the lovely opportunity to stare at his back without him noticing or caring too much, which would have been great, if you couldn’t tell how tense he was without even needing a single touch.

When you touch his shoulders he almost jumps, but he forces himself to calm down. Which doesn’t do much, because the instant your hands are on him you can tell it’s going to take a while and some effort to get him relax.

You slowly, ever so slowly start to move you hand, starting out gently at first to get a feeling for him. And ho boy, those are some serious knots if you’ve ever felt some. Your thumb barely brushes over one with some pressure and Hotch winces. You take a breath in trough your teeth, Hotch truly can’t be feeling any sort of pleasant right now, or really, ever you suppose.

“Hotch, if I really didn’t know any better, I would say your shoulders are made of wood with how stiff they are and how many knots I can feel.” Hotch grunts and starts to move like he’s about to stand up, but you drag him back down so he’s fully sitting again with your hands on his shoulders.

“Oh no, none of that, you’re not moving off this bed until all of them are gone and you can you know, actually be a little relaxed for once in your adult life.” Hotch scoffs, but doesn’t try to move again, which you count as a victory.

For the next, you don’t even know how long, your hands wander, squeeze, and press all over Hotch’s shoulders, loosing muscles and knots as good as you can while kneeling behind Hotch. Hotch is mostly quiet, only letting out sighs and the occasional grunt when an especially hard spot is made pliant.

When you’ve done as much as you can in this position you withdraw your hands, noting how Hotch is slumping slightly more forward now than he was when you started.

“Up the bed please, I can’t reach more like this.” Hotch turns so he can look at you over his shoulder.

“You’ve massaged my shoulders, what mor-”

“If your shoulders are any indication, you need a full body massage, so up on the bed please, front down.” You stare down Hotch, not breaking eye contact for one second. You’ve decided that he needs that massage, even if you have to tackle him to the bed to give it to him. He seems to have sensed this as he sighs, and above all miracles, does as you asked of him. He’s on his front, arms tucked under his head to use as a pillow, you now kneeling next to one hip.

Pleased with yourself, you get to work. You start where you left off from before, somewhere in the middle of his back. The knots there aren’t as bad as his shoulders, you suppose Hotch takes ‘bearing the weight of the world on his shoulders’ literally sometimes, but still you do your best to let your hands work over them until they are smoothed out and the muscles beneath your palms relax.

Over time your hands move downwards, and at some point right above the waist of his pants and his belt, your hands on either hip, they brush a particular point or points which make Hotch draw in a breath. Your hands pause before you speak.

“Sorry, you ticklish there?”

“A little.” Hotch reluctantly admits, mostly speaking at the wall he has been staring at for the last few minutes.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” You say as you file that little nugget of info away in a part of your brain you’ve dedicated to Hotch. You make sure to avoid that spot when your hands starts up again, instead moving to his lower back. There you find a knot truly worth your skilled hands, taking several minutes before you can move your hands from that spot. You realize you’ve accomplished your goal there when Hotch lets out a loud groan as you fell his muscles loosen beneath your hands, which you gather was an involuntary sound by the slight redness on his cheeks.

“See, I told you I was good.” Hotch doesn’t responds verbally, but nods, eyes closed now. You don’t say anything else, instead moving to his legs. You start at one ankle, slowly, slowly moving your way upwards, careful not to go to high for both of your comfort. You can tell when that is by a small twitch on Hotch’s leg, just above where you can feel the start of his boxers through his pants, and then you move down. You do however at on point press on a muscle on the backside of his knee that causes the leg to move on its own, which causes you both to laugh.

When both legs are done, you take your hands off Hotch and lean back, noting how his eyes are closed, almost like he’s sleeping.

“Turn around.” This causes Hotch to abruptly open his eyes and look at you for the first time since he laid down.

“What?”

“I haven’t done your front yet, and I’m not about to let you go with a half finished massage.”

“I-I’d rather not.” Looking over Hotch you quickly realize, with your profiling work and previous experience, why he’s not moving yet.

“If it’s an erection that’s nothing new.”

“Wha-”

“Your body is just reacting to stimuli, happens a lot with men, nothing I haven’t seen before. But if you really want to stop, we can of course do that.” You can see Hotch’s mind at war with himself. You say nothing, pretending that there’s a very interesting spot on the wall above the headboard.

It’s the movement of the mattress that alerts you to the fact that Hotch is moving, as the man himself says nothing. When you look at him, he has his arms over his face, jaw and mouth barely visible. What is very visible, is the erction pushing against the front of his pants, and though you would have liked to look, you only give it a glance. Hotch jumps when you touch his ankle again, but you don’t start just yet.

“Relax, like I said, nothing I haven’t seen before. Happens a lot actually, my hands are just that good you know, like a god or something.” Hotch huffs out a laugh, a smile briefly on his lips. You smile back at him even though he can’t see you, and then concentrate back on the task at hand.

Like before, you start at his ankles, working your way up. Hotch gets less tense almost by the second, breathing deepening as your hands work their magic once more. You don’t go very high on his thighs, actually now you’re lower than before, not wanting to make Hotch uncomfortable in any way.

Next is his hips, you start at the one closest to you and work your way up towards his shoulder instead of across his stomach. He still has his arms over his face, so you poke him in the bicep to get his attention.

“Arm please.” Hotch’s sigh is deep, but he moves his arm so you can take it. You’re gentle, well, as gentle as you can be while kneading out knots from tired muscles. His bicep is firm under your fingers, needing a lot less attention than his shoulders luckily.

When you’re done with that arm, you let it go, tapping on his other so he can move that of his face and switch it for the one you finished with. The angle of it is a bit awkward, and you probably should move for easier access, but honestly you can’t be bothered as you’re very close to being finished. However, your knee protests, telling your body that hey, moving is good as not to let limbs fall asleep.

But instead of doing the logical and probably better thing of getting of the bed and walking around, your tired brain decides to just move one leg over Hotch waist, intending to just move the other one over and after. Hotch draws in a slight breath at the motion and then something in your leg fails you, causing you to drop down on Hotch, putting most of your weight on top of Hotch’s crotch. Hotch moans out loud as his hands flies to your lower thighs and you go stock still.

“Fuck shit, sorry Hotch-”

“It’s fine, it’s fine, it-” Hotch draws in a deep breath and licks his lips as you worriedly watch his face. You’re mortified, you just dropped yourself on Hotch’s erection, holy fuck, shit.

It takes a few seconds to realize that you’re not trying to move of Hotch’s lap.

But Hotch isn’t trying to move you off either.

If anything, he’s keeping you there, a deathgrip on your lower thighs.

You take a few terrifying seconds to take stock of the situation before experimentally rolling your hips against Hotch. A flex of his fingers, but he does or says nothing as he stares at the ceiling. You on the other hand, is watching his face for any hint of what he’s thinking.

“If you want me to stop, I’ll stop, and we’ll forget about it ever happening.”

“Ah, um, fuck, shit.”

Silence, one, two, three beats.

“Fuck, move.” You start to get off his, heart already dropping to your guts, but instead Hotch drags you down and rolls his hips against you. This time it’s you who gasps, as your own dick twitches in your pants with the feeling of Hotch grinding against you. Hotch throws his head back, eyes screwed shut.

You’re quick to find your balance and leverage by placing your hands on Hotch’s chest, grinding down, moving as best as you can with Hotch’s own movements. Hotch is letting out a few low moans, which you match with your own as you move and watch the adam’s apple on Hotch’s throat move as he swallows. You want to lean down and kiss his neck, but fuck, you don’t know if you even can kiss him, if he will let you.

Hotch answers that question for you, as just seconds later his eyes open and he moves so he can look at you, catching you staring at him.

“Ah fuck.” Before you can even ask, he’s sitting up. You yelp as the movement causes you to straddle his thighs instead, and then in seconds there’s a hand on the nape of your neck, and even fewer seconds later you’re kissing Hotch.

Fuck.

His lips are firm, but pressing against you with a desperation you’re sure to match. His hands on your hips, holding you hard. Your hands go into his hair, tugging him even closer of that is even possible at this point, which causes him to moan low into your mouth which holy shit, that is, fuck, you can’t even think anymore you think.

The world shifts around you then, and you find yourself on your back, Hotch’s erection pressed against your own. It feels so good, so big and firm, and you want to feel more of him, but you can’t muster the brainpower to do anything about it, so you just tug at his hair and grind against him. Hotch seems of the same mind, as he doesn’t move to do much more either, just moving his hips against yours while kissing you within an inch of your life.

Which should be ridiculous, because you’re both grown men almost fully dressed still, but fuck, that makes it even hotter you think. Or, you try to think, as your mind is mostly chants of ‘more, good, fuck, shit, hot’ over and over again, Hotch’s name thrown in the mix for good measure.

Hotch moves away from your lips, but doesn’t move far, instead peppering kissed down your neck on the little skin he can reach. You moan and gasp, moving one hand from his hair to his back, trying to press him even more against you.

“Fuck, shit, I’m close, so close!” You frantically confess towards the ceiling.

“Me too, me too.” Hotch breathes against your neck, one hand moving so he can unbutton your shirt and get his lips on your collarbone. He starts to suck and bite at a spot there, and that is what does you in. You come just seconds after your shirt is open for him, moaning loudly.

“Fuck!” You hear Hotch mutter against your skin, and then a mutter of your name as he comes, in a low baritone that you think you will remember for the rest of your life.

You lay there panting for several seconds, or perhaps minutes, you’re not sure, just a mess of limbs, most of Hotch’s weight on top of you.

It’s hot, in more ways than one, which is what forces you to push Hotch off you, to get some air. He goes willingly, flopping down on his back next to you on the bed. A few panting breaths before you both turn to look at the other, smiles, then laughter as the situation sinks in. You’re surprisingly the first to gain somewhat of a control over yourself, grinning as you speak.

“We just came in our pants, what are we, teenagers?” Hotch pushes his weight up on his elbows, wincing as apparently something pulls somewhere.

“I don’t know about you, but I certainly don’t feel like one.” Hotch smiles as you, which you return, letting your eyes wander all over him now that you can. His hair is standing in a million different directions, there’s a blush to his cheeks, his clothes are rumpled, a wet spot is forming on the front of his pants, and he looks as fucked and blissed out as you, and most certainly he, feels. You hum, your attention going back to his face.

“We should get cleaned up.” You state, which Hotch nods in response.

“I think you mean you should get us cleaned up. My legs feels like jello right about now.” You raise a brow and he grins.

“I think your massage turned off something in my legs.” You huff, incredulous, but sit up anyway.

“I’m good, but not that good.”

“Well, the sex certainly helped.” You laugh and lean down to give him a kiss, which is mostly smiling lips pressed against each other.

“Flatterer.”

“Hey, what can I say, you got magic fingers.” You smack his chest and laugh as you get up to go the bathroom, your own legs a little shaky, which Hotch doesn’t comment on, but you know he liked by the way he grins at you when you get back to the bed.

#aaron hotchner x male reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner #hotch smut #hotch x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds smut #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #smut #lemon #written #male!reader #aaron hotcner x male!reader #male reader #2000

[mlm-mod-taka]

Okay! <3 then can i request Mondo Owada, Makoto Naegi and Byakuya Togami (seperately) with gn reader getting them a pet headcanons? (dog or cat) if you don't want to make this request, thats completely fine! Have a great day ๑^ᴗ^๑ (if you recieved this request again, i apologize, my WI-FI is dying for some reason ;;)

GIVING THEM A PET • makoto, byakuya, mondo x gn reader

no worries, and of course! i had a lot of fun doing this quest, but it took awhile for me to finish it because of my school projects. i made it more on how they would treat the pet rather than how they would react to you giving it to them, please dm me if you want that changed! anyways, i hope you enjoy this!

tws/cws: none i can think of.

|| -> mod taka <3

i personally headcanon that naegi likes any and all animals, so he's happy to get either a cat or dog! off topic, but he probably follows multiple pet accounts on twitter. his whole feed is just... pets.

if you give him a puppy, he'll definitely start lightly jumping around with it in his hands. tries to be careful since he had a living thing in his hands, but sometimes the serotonin is a little too strong, especially when it comes to dogs.

give him a kitty? he'll pet it repeatedly without uttering a word with all the happiness and shine in his eyes. bonus points if you give him a fluffy breed of cat, he loves those. you might have to shake him a little to take his attention off of the little fluffball, but can you blame him?

defends it with his life. its a pretty known fact that he isn't the boldest person, but if someone tries to touch the creature you give him without proper care, and/or without telling him? he'll say some of the most daring things he's ever said in his entire life. it surprises him too, honestly.

he names the animal after foods. he just seems like the type of person to name his cat "nugget", and his dog "cookie" or something along those lines. makoto thinks those names are the cutest, and he's right in a sense.

uses almost all of his extra money on it. for monthly vet checks, high quality food, new collars/harnesses & litter with a new litter box every few months if its a cat. he takes very good care of them, so you don't need to worry.

he absolutely goes on pet shopping sprees with gundham and gonta, no you cannot change my mind. there are times when you go into his dorm and walk into the three boys with numerous bags of new things for their animals.

his sister LOVES the pet, her pure attachment to them could rival makoto's attachment. komaru visits atleast once a week, and while she claims its to see her amazing big brother; everyone knows she just wants to see the animal. you can bet that the rest of the day will be the two siblings snatching the confused creature from the others hands.

on another subject, if the pet you gave him was a dog, mondo will constantly be around it and almost never leave. if its a cat, celeste steals them every once in awhile to play with grand bois chéri ludenberg, which gives makoto a heart attack when he cant find his cat.

actually uses taking the "taking your pet out for a walk" as a way to exercise. before and after school, he always does a quick jog around the area with them, and sometimes you can catch him running around with them leading the way in a harness. its really nice to see.

is very grateful that you gave him the little critter! he thanks you everytime you're both spending time with it and the room goes silent for a bit. both you and them has given him so much more happiness, and he'll forever appreciate it.

he really doesn't seem like the type to need a pet at first. he has many things to do, and is a busy, busy man. so, when you first introduce him to the cat you bought at a rescue shelter for him, he was really skeptical in accepting it.

in all honestly, he didn't like them at the beginning. he ordered his servants to take care of it, and rarely gave the feline anything more than a glare when he passed by it in hallways. but, one night changed his perspective.

it was a usual night of him overworking himself and not getting any sleep, and he felt something really strange cuddling up to his leg. he looked down to see that it was the cat that he hasn't named yet.

he ignored them for a bit, but he awkwardly scratched its head after a few minutes of insistent meows. its the middle of the night, and that little itch couldn't do much, right?

wrong. by 7 am, the cat is on his lap, taking a nap while he finishes some paperwork; petting them behind their ear whenever he feels the stress getting to his head. it annoyed him to realize how patting them could calm him down so much.

cue the attachment phase. he will reject and debate any mention of it, but the kitten sleeping on his shoulder said otherwise. he secretly really loves the cat and thinks its adorable, but he would rather stub his toe than admit it.

he's not... the greatest at naming things. how he names the cat is by choosing the most common and obvious name. if you gave him a tabby cat, he'd just name them tabby. siamese cat? simon. manx cat? max. calico cat? calico.

god forbid that the kitty gets sick. the moment he starts to realize that its not acting normal, he calls the best vet available in the country and makes them do a check up. "i don't care if it gets sick." he says. "i'll just ask one of the maids to take it to the vet." he says.

these two cuddle up to each other on his bed. he seems like the type of person to have "cats not allowed on the bed" as a rule, but nope. when you sleep over now, you're usually the third wheel now. mainly because the cat is sleeping inbetween you and byakuya.

even though its not required for cats, he takes them out for walks every afternoon after school. its nice to walk with a cat around the neighborhood, and its really cute seeing them sniff and look around the unfamiliar area.

his weakness is hearing them meow. one time when you were staying over, the cat kept cuddling up to byakuya to convince him to play with them. he refused, until it meowed. you could physically see his heart clench, and now the rest of the day was used playing with the kitty.

basically, he's extremely attached to the feline you gave him. he doesn't show it too much, but if you look into his behaviour; you can see how happy and thankful he is that you gave him the animal. he loves both of you so much.

dogs! while he does love cats, thinks they're absolutely adorable and deserve the world, he prefers dogs a lot more. when you gave him a dog, he practically almost cried seeing it. any time he even sees one, he gets extremely happy. actually getting another one? get ready for the cheering and fanboying.

he may or may not be one of those dog owners that ends up accidentally giving more attention to his dog compared to you. just communicate if you feel negatively about it, and he'll divide his attention evenly, of course.

you two are going to be constantly with this dog, he pretty much brings them everywhere he can. so basically every conversation you two have in both public and private is most likely going to be overheard by the clueless animal.

daiya is also exactly like komaru, he already visited quite alot before you gave him the pet, but after you gave it? he's there during all of his free time. i personally think daiya is a cat person, but he really likes the dog you gave him.

his whole phone is filled to the brim with photos of this pup. if you look in his gallery app, you'll see a bunch of albums with many different pictures of it. its to the point where his storage is 40% used up by all the pictures he takes of the cute little creature.

is one of those people that buys multiple different matching outfits between him and his dog. he would include you too if you would like to join in! he actually really wants you to do it with them, he'd take way more pictures if you did.

every single morning before school, he takes him to the local biggest dog park. in fact, he goes there so often that all of the other people in the area actually knows mondo very personally, which is a little funny to witness. a bunch of middle aged people knowing exactly what your gangster boyfriend does in his free time? its made you snicker once or twice.

many of the pets around the neighborhood knows his dog pretty well; even the cats do! its actually really cute to see a bunch of different animals from a lot of different species all cuddled together at one tree. again, mondo has a whole gallery of it.

he names his puppy with actual human names. since his last one was named "chuck", i assume that he's gonna call his current pet something that matches his beloved past dogs name. he is very close to crying whenever someone asks why he chose that name for them.

any time someone else has to take care of them while he's away, or when he has something to do, he's practically messaging that person every five seconds. he needs to know that theyre okay, especially since they were given to him by you! he's never damaged or got rid of a gift you gave him, and he's not going to start now.

is exactly like the others, he's extremely happy that you got him a dog, mainly because all of you get so many new memories and experiences, and in general; it makes all of your lives way better, also way more fun.

#📍 dismissal ∆ #makoto naegi #makoto #makoto naegi x reader #makoto x reader #byakuya togami #byakuya #byakuya togami x reader #byakuya x reader #mondo owada #mondo oowada #mondo owada x reader #mondo oowada x reader #mondo x reader #danganronpa x reader #danganronpa headcanons

[pennylanefics]

Unknown - Isaac Lahey

a/n: this turned out a lot longer than i expected, but i’m happy with it :) super soft isaac is my weakness

•••

Scott had warned you about going out at night during a full moon. Everyone had, honestly. But people telling you what to do wasn’t how you went about life, so that’s why you found yourself running to the grocery store for some dinner.

Sure, you had things to make at home, but nothing sounded good. You let Scott know you were heading out, just so he was aware of your location. Though you were sure nothing would happen.

Strolling the many aisles of the store, you quietly hum to yourself and finally find a box of frozen toasted ravioli in the freezer section. You also grab a bag of chicken nuggets and a bag of waffle fries for more variety, and head to check out.

“What’s got you out on a full moon?” The cashier asks. You pause from getting your wallet out of your bag.

“Huh?” He laughs and scans your items.

“You gotta be careful on full moon nights in Beacon Hills. I’ve seen shit happen, and it’s not pretty.” You nod, saying nothing, getting a bad vibe from this guy. Once your things were bagged and paid for, you dart out of the store and to your car as quickly as you can.

You came to a stop at a stop light, the roads empty from any soul. As you wait for the light to turn green, something falls on top of your car. Or jumps.

The sound of whoever, or whatever, raises your anxiety, and you are too terrified to get out and look. Instead, you grab your phone and call Scott, whispering to him in case you made a sudden noise and startled whatever was outside.

“Scott?” You whisper-yell to him. “There’s something on my car.”

“Something on your car?”

“Y-yeah. On top of it. I’m at the intersection of-” You were cut off by a scream emitting from your throat as the creature broke your windshield. Your shaky hands unbuckle yourself from the seatbelt and as fast as you can, you jump out of your car and try to run away.

The wolf, as you had now determined from the sound of their growl, caught your leg and tore your jeans, their claws digging into your skin. You let out a loud scream as the pain courses through your body. The phone was still in your hand, surprisingly, so Scott heard everything.

As the wolf was beginning to tear at your back, something startled them and they ran off, leaving you bleeding out and attempting to speak to Scott.

He raced to you, though feeling the effects of the full moon, he was able to bring you to his house, where Melissa was waiting for you to tend to your wounds. The pain became too much, causing you to pass out. But Melissa monitored you the entire time.

“How are you feeling?” She asks when you finally awake the following morning. You groan and realize you’re laying on your stomach.

“Like I’ve been hit like a truck,” you moan. She chuckles and hands you a glass of water, helping you sit up. You hiss sharply as you sit on the stitches that Melissa sewed the wounds up with.

“I’d advise you to sleep on your stomach for the next few nights, at least until some of the stitches are gone. Scott is wanting you to stay here for a couple days, just so we can watch you and make sure nothing else happens.” You sigh and try to stand, but ultimately fail due to the weakness of your leg.

“Where is he?”

“At school. He didn’t want to go because he wanted to watch over you, but I made him. No use in staying around if you’re just resting.” You chuckle and sit back down, the pain slightly subsiding as you put pressure on your other leg.

“He’ll be back in a few hours. I’m sure he’s going to want to know everything that happened,” Melissa continues.

“I’m not even sure I know what happened. I mean I remember it breaking my windshield and running for my life. I didn’t even see who attacked me.” Melissa rubs your shoulder and gives you a couple painkillers to take.

“They’ll figure it out. They always do. Scott can always go to Derek to help figure it out.”

—

You were ordered to lay down for the rest of the day, per Melissa, but when Scott and Stiles returned from school, you weren’t allowed much rest.

Scott and Stiles run through the door as soon as Stiles parks his jeep. They run up to the guest room, where you are staying, and are very happy to see you awake.

“Why the hell would you go out on a full moon?!” Stiles scolds you.

“Fuck off,” you mumble, sitting up with the help of Scott. The medicine you took earlier had worn off, so Scott took some of your pain until you could comfortably sit up. You leaned against your friend while Stiles stood in front of you two.

“I don’t know who attacked me, so don’t even ask, I went out because I wanted some food to make, I was aware of my surroundings the entire time, and the wolf jumped on top of my car. I couldn’t do much, I didn’t even know what it was until it broke my windshield and I ran out.”

“I wonder if it’s one of those new wolves that Derek bit,” Stiles wonders, the wheels in his head turning.

“It doesn’t matter who it was now. (Y/N) said she didn’t see, so there’s really nothing to be done. The most important thing, though, is that she’s alive.” Stiles nods and takes a seat next to you, hugging you carefully.

A week later, you were back at school like nothing had happened, though you were still healing. Your friends weren’t able to help you throughout the entire day, but you managed. Thanks to someone.

Isaac saw you struggling to put things into your backpack from your locker after school ended one day, so he came over to help.

“Do you need someone to hold your backpack?” He asks nicely. His bright blue eyes captivated you and his smile was just as bright.

“Uh sure, thank you. I’m still recovering from an accident, so it’s still a little tough to get around.” He takes your backpack from your shoulder and holds it open for you, allowing you to stuff some books in and take some out.

“You’re Isaac, right? On the lacrosse team with Stiles and Scott?” He chuckles and zips your backpack for you.

“Yeah, that’s me.”

“I recognize the curly hair,” you grin glancing up at his golden locks. He blushes a little and throws the bag over his shoulder for you.

“I’ll walk you to your car, I can tell carrying it was uncomfortable.”

“Well thank you, again.”

From that moment, you and Isaac grew very close, spending lots of time together on the weekends, seeing each other every day in school, him helping you with your backpack and walking you to your car as well.

A year later, and a relationship had blossomed. Months after meeting, Isaac confessed his feelings and asked you to be his girlfriend. It was a sweet moment and Scott was so happy to hear that you two were together. He thought Isaac was great for you, after having his name cleared after his father was killed.

Thankfully, you had fully healed from your attack wounds, although they left deep scarring, you were slowly accepting that it happened, and there’s nothing to do. Isaac had been so loving and tender with them, though.

You told him the truth after a couple months of being together, that you were attacked by a werewolf. Since then, he always took time to run his fingers along them, kissing them sweetly in more intimate moments, and assuring you that they are perfect and don’t make you any less beautiful; he in fact told you they make you look even more beautiful, and it shows you’re strong.

Now, there was an alpha pack in town, looking to stir up trouble, and of course involving the pack.

It was a normal day at school, so far. During your independent study, you and Isaac offered to help your teacher get some stuff from the storage closet. She knew you were dating, so she told you, “no funny business”.

You and Isaac stood in the closet, rummaging through different boxes to find what you needed.

“Should we partake in some “funny business”?” Isaac cheekily asks. You giggle and smack his chest.

“No. As much as I would love to, she trusts us t-” Your sentence was interrupted by the door to the closet slamming shut. Isaac whips around and jiggles the handle, and when it doesn’t budge, he starts to freak out.

“Isaac, it’s okay,” you whisper, your hand coming to rest on his shoulder.

“No, no, no, no,” he mumbles, running his hands through his hair in a stressful manner.

“Hey, look at me, babe,” you try to get his attention off the fact that it’s a small space. He ignores you and tries to push the door, knocking and banging on it for someone to hear.

“There’s something against it,” he breathes, shrugging his cardigan off and continuing to push on the door.

“Isaac, please calm down, it’s going to be fine.” He starts screaming and pounding on the door, slightly terrifying you. You try once more to pry him away from it, but he turns to you, eyes golden, canines on show.

You stumble back, scared of his current state.

“Babe, please, listen to my voice, Isaac!”

He growls, and fear runs through you. His claws latch onto your arm, digging into your skin. You yelp and trip over your feet, falling against the shelving.

Suddenly, the door flies open and Scott grabs Isaac by the shoulder, throwing him to the ground. He growls again as his alpha screams to anchor him. You slowly walk out of the closet, holding your wrist close to your chest.

Scott stands and comes over to make sure you’re okay, but he can tell there is something else wrong.

“I’m so sorry, baby, I didn’t mean to do that,” Isaac whimpers, tears in his eyes. You stare down at him, nights of the attack flashing in your mind. The growl the wolf let out that night.

Isaac’s growl.

“It’s okay,” you whisper, wanting to run all the way home.

“(Y/N)?” Scott breaks you from your daze. “What’s wrong?” You try to explain it, but Isaac’s beautiful eyes stop you. He’s vulnerable at the moment, you couldn’t tell him.

“N-nothing. I’m just gonna go to the nurse,” you mumble, dashing away from the two wolves and to the nurse. They share a worried glance, but brush it off and carry on with the day.

When school ends, Isaac cautiously makes his way over to you.

“(Y/N)?” He calls out, stepping up to your locker. You don’t make eye contact with him for a moment, trying to ignore the voice in your head telling you to.

“Baby, please. I’m so sorry I hurt you, you know I didn’t mean to,” he begs. Finally, you look at him and shut your locker.

“I know. I said it was okay.”

“But you-” You walk away, events playing in your head as he yells for you. You quickly run out of the school and to your car.

Later that night, you head over to Scott’s house to talk with him.

“Hey, what’s up?” He answers the door, letting you in from the rain.

“I need to talk to you.”

“Okay.” You two head up to his room, and for the time being, you completely forget that Isaac lives with Scott.

“Is this about earlier?” He asks.

“Yeah. I, um, I’m…”

“It’s really unlike you to be scared around Isaac. And I could smell the fear on you, it was so strong.”

“He’s the one who attacked me,” you blurt out. Scott is stunned speechless.

“Wh...How do you know?”

“His growl. It’s the same growl I heard when I was caught by him.”

“Are you sure?”

“Aren’t you the one that said every wolf has a different growl? I know what I heard, and as soon as I heard his growl today, it brought me back to that night and I began to relive it and-”

“What?” A new voice makes your blood run cold. Isaac opens the door even more and steps inside. Tears were evident in his eyes and on his cheeks.

“I did it?” He breathes out, his hands shaking at the thought.

“Isaac, listen-”

“No, it’s okay,” he whimpers, leaving the room almost immediately. Scott tries to stop him, but he’s too quick.

“Should I go talk to him?” You wonder. Scott shakes his head.

“Give him some time, until he’s ready to come to terms with it.”

That day came a week later. Isaac had been avoiding you all week at school, not wanting to be reminded of what he did. But it wasn’t him, it was the full moon.

Scott had something up his sleeve, though. He asked you to meet him at his house after school, but when you arrived, he wasn’t there. Isaac had to answer the door, and had to face you by himself.

“Uh, I guess since I’m here, can we talk?” You ask him softly. He nods and lets you in. You follow him up to his room and he takes a seat on the bed.

“Isaac, I don’t blame you, if that’s what you’re worried about. I talked to Scott about the whole thing and he said that since it was a full moon, and your first full moon, you had no idea what you were doing. You had no recollections because it wasn’t you.”

“It was me,” he whispers. “I gave you those awful scars, I put you through so much pain, and I hate myself for it.”

“Now what happened to my scars being beautiful?” You tease, wanting to lighten the mood. Isaac surprisingly chuckles, but stops moments later.

“They are beautiful, but I put you through so much pain that night.”

“You don’t remember it, though, do you? Because if you did, as soon as you saw my scars, you would have known it was you.” He nods and stares at his hands.

“I just don’t think I can be with you and forget what happened,” he whispers. Your heart shatters at his words and you sigh.

“Please don’t do this, Isaac,” you beg softly. “I don’t blame you, I don’t hate you, I-”

“How can you sit here and look at me, and not be reminded of that night?”

“Because I love you!” He goes silent. Sure, you’ve said it before, but now, it feels different.

“I truly love you, Isaac. I may have been hurt, but I’m alive.”

“But…”

“No. I don’t care about anything else. Yeah, at first, it was hard to come to terms with, but I’m okay now.”

“I always knew there was something about you that I recognized, your scent. You smelled so familiar when we first met, but I could never figure out what it was. I even asked Derek and he had no idea. But now…”

“Hey,” you whisper, cupping his cheeks, making him look up at you. “It’s. Okay. I promise. Please believe me when I tell you that I’m not upset with you and that I don’t care that it was you.” He stares into your eyes and after a few moments, he nods. You let go of his face, but he stands up as soon as you do.

You step back a couple inches and wait for him to either say something or walk out of the room. To your surprise, he falls into your arms, pulling you close to him, and begins crying into your shoulder. His body shakes with sobs and the sounds break your heart.

“I’m so sorry, babe. I really am. I know I wasn’t aware, but I feel awful.”

“I know, Isaac. You’re okay.” His face is nuzzled in your shoulder, the tears pooling on your shirt.

“I love you so much,” he whimpers, his voice slightly strained. “I’m so sorry, I promise to never hurt you like that again.” Your hands run up and down Isaac’s back comfortingly, not saying anything else and just letting him get everything out.

“Can I stay the night with you?” You ask him when he pulls away. You knew it was a long shot and you weren’t even sure he would want you there.

“Of course, baby,” he smiles, caressing your cheek with his hand, wiping your tears away while doing so.

He pulls you over to the bed, and sits down, but before you follow him, he stops you. As tender as ever, he removes your shirt and shorts, discarding them to the side.

“Turn around,” he softly orders. You do so, facing the wall of his room. His fingers ever so gently dance across the deep scarring on your back and thigh. Quiet sniffles sound through the room as Isaac comes face to face with what he’s done, after finding out that it was him after all.

“Come lay down on your stomach,” he says this time. You wipe your tears away and climb onto the bed, your head turned to the side to watch him a little.

“So so beautiful,” he whispers, straddling your back like he is going to give you a massage. Instead, he leans down and presses his lips to the scars on your back, kissing them one by one, up until he reaches your shoulder.

“Yet so much pain,” he continues, moving down to the back of your thigh and doing the same. By now, tears were free falling down your cheeks and onto your arm.

“I already said this, but I promise to never hurt you like this again. You mean the world to me and I never want you to be in pain because of me. For the wrong reasons.” A giggle escapes your lips at his slightly sexual connotation. He flips you back around and crawls up your body to face you.

“I love you,” he tells you once more, kissing your lips as sweetly as ever and as passionately as ever. “Please don’t leave me.”

“I won’t,” you confirm, bringing him back down for another kiss. “You mean the world to me as well, Isaac.”

#isaac lahey #isaac lahey imagines #isaac lahey imagine #isaac lahey x reader #daniel sharman #teen wolf #teen wolf imagines #imagines #fanfiction #fanfic

[forestwater87]

Okay, for all of you who don't feel like watching Miles RP as David

Here are some of my favorite quotes. Context may be added if I feel like it. Reactions are my goblin brain screaming. All of these came from a discord so if they don't make sense . . . see goblin brain comment.

(That link should start directly at the point where he becomes David; if it doesn't, skip to 1:40:33)

In roughly chronological order:

David: "Teachers are sort of like camp counselors during the rest of the year."

The thing is David is absolutely up his own ass enough to think this.

David: "Trail mix is expensive!"

^ said to show he understands why not everyone can donate to the charity for teachers. Very adorable, am crying.

David's "ooooh" seeing one dude was extremely non-heterosexual. Fucking bicon. Him losing his mind that one of the arenas is called "Survey camp"

David: "A person's hitting me -- I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry this is just pretend!"

This is just canonically how David plays video games. Either this or he's unwilling to commit violence at all, but I'll defer to Miles.

David: "That's very goat of you!"

Spencer: "Is David popular amongst his campers?"

David: "I like to think so! There's only 3 staff members, so I'm definitely in everyone's top 3."

"That also means you're in the bottom 3."

David: "Well, I choose not to think of it that way."

(I have to keep adding reacts so you can tell when one quote ends and another begins. Judge not lest ye be judged)

I think the other person in the stream is named Spencer. Friend of Miles. I know literally nothing else about him and am not even confident on those facts.

Every time he says something so non-David in his David voice I die: "I have a lot of grenades!"

David: "Oh my goodness, would you look at this beautiful scenery! Can we hike that mountain?"

This is so goddamn cute. I am dying. Miles looked at his fans and said "they will eat tonight" and I am so relieved.

David: "Not to be a couple of Greedy Garys, but I say we get this [care package] and then I'll drop another one!"

The fact that Miles is grinning like a lunatic the entire time is very good. (Also if this is formatted badly then I'm sorry but not all that sorry. I'm doing my best and David would be proud of me.)

David: "Didja getim? Didja getim? didja getim? How 'bout now?"

Spencer: "I didn't get 'em."

David: "Well, you tried your best and that's all that matters."

He calls healing "a little health kiss." I'm not sure why but it's very important to me.

David: [while jumping to murder someone] "Hi! Scuse me!"

(i just need something to separate the quotes okay)

David: "Well you know what gang, we did our best. You don't always win the 3-legged race. You did a wonderful job!"

Then there's a bit where they talk about Spencer's time at summer camp:

David: "ooooh hand-holding's pretty serious!"

David is too pure.

David: [dreamily] "Did you fall in love, Spencer? A summer love?" [puts hands up to his face]

Then there's the fact that David/Miles gets to pick where they play each round, and he keeps insisting on going to the one called "Survey Camp" every single time because it has the word "camp" in it.

David: "Now, I don't like to disagree, but . . . I was thinking we could go . . . to Survey Camp!"

Spencer reminds him that technically since David's the one with the power to choose, his opinion is the only one that matters:

David: "Everyone's opinion matters. And my opinion is we're going to camp."

David just steamrolling over Spencer's interests is very good. There are these little selfish nuggets sprinkled in among the wholesomeness that really capture the full David experience.

David: "Well, he's climbing up . . . he's coming my direction . . . oh, he looks scary . . ."

Spencer: "Is he coming towards me?"

David: "Oooh, I don't know. I'm dead!"

The positivity is relentless. I think Miles said on twitter afterwards that this whole thing was exhausting and I can see why. Being David is no picnic . . .

David: "I have a question: do we have to shoot each other in this game?"

And then a few seconds later:

David: "I'm just wondering if maybe there's a way we can, you know, help others. Talk through our issues."

And a few seconds after that:

David: "I was asking if they wanted to be friends in the game!"

I believe that moved killed him, too. Precious.

Also we're interrupting the real Miles!David content to share something my friend suggested to me while I was watching this and giving her quotes; she said that maybe David just calls everything camp to make life more fun, and then sent me this imaginary exchange that actually killed me all the way to death:

David: Gwen Santos would you go to marriage camp with me

Gwen: I'm going to have to change this story when I tell everyone

It made me laugh quite a bit.

Anyway, back to the video!

Spencer: "How do you sign up for [Camp Campbell]?"

David: "Well, um, you can fax, uh, an application to [email protected]. And . . . you can know that myself and Gwen and Quartermaster and sometimes Mr. Campbell will do our best to make sure they get what they need! Which more than anything is love and support. And friendship."

Spencer: "How many dollars does this camp cost?"

David: "You know . . . it is, um . . ."

And then the conversation switches subjects and David breathes a sigh of relief.

Very shortly after this he changed his character from a woman (she was wearing a yellow shirt, which he liked because the campers wear yellow shirts) to "a Forward Scout with a positive attitude!"

"I like his style."

Spencer: "Does everybody abuse David verbally?"

David: "You know, sometimes people have harsh words. Mostly Max, and Neil, and Gwen, and Quartermaster, and Nurf."

Spencer: "Did you just list almost everyone?"

David: "Mmm . . . I'd say maybe a third."

Poor David. Somebody please protect him.

Spencer: "Yeah, I think people abuse David. I get that vibe. Or at least, I feel it in my heart. Like I wanna put ants in your bunk or something."

David: "Well, I think that says more about maybe some of the hurt you're carrying with you. And sometimes when people don't know how to process that, they act out. Do you want some trail mix?"

David just said his favorite part of trail mix is the raisins which is so cute. "They have a little bit of salt on them, which isn't typical for a raisin."

And he keeps telling chatters to watch their language.

David: "Who is my favorite camper? Aww, you know I couldn't pick a favorite! . . . But I know who has the most potential, even if he doesn't want to admit it."

I KNEW IT!!!!!

I've been saying for years that David doesn't have a favorite and gravitates towards the ones he thinks need him the most AND I FINALLY GOT ONE RIGHT!

David: "Well you know, Gwen swears and that's okay."

shipping intensifies

David: [gasp] "The moss is growing on the north side of the rock!"

Every time he nerds out about weird shit in the game I gain 3 seconds to my life.

Spencer: "Did you get teabagged?"

David: "What's that?"

Spencer: "It's where somebody places their most intimate bits on you for . . . friendship."

David: [softly] "Oh, I don't know about that."

Also David confirms that the whole show has been a single summer, so please see the "vindication" gif above.

David: "I know a lot of fun camp songs."

Spencer: "Sing 3."

David: [starts singing] "Bum-bum-bumblebee, bumblebee tuna, I love bumblebee, bumblebee tuna . . ."

Spencer: "Okay, please stop. I immediately regret this decision."

David: "Max said the same thing! One of my campers. And, uh, and my co-counselor, Gwen."

He's literally made of sunshine. I would die for this fictional man.

Spencer: "Are people at camp against their will? I feel like they are."

David: "No! . . . They don't always like it immediately, but it grows on them."

Spencer: "It sounds like they're there against their will."

David: "Well I just think that's a negative way of looking at it."

FWIW Spencer makes an excellent foil to David. Not as aggressive as Max or as dour as Gwen, but he brings a very . . . like, straight-man energy to the conversation. Like how a normal person would react to David IRL. I'd enjoy seeing these two interact more.

Spencer: "It's like your overpositivity is wanting me to balance it out with negativity."

David: "You know, I feel like that dynamic's pretty popular with me."

eeeeeeee <3

And the last one that I personally found noteworthy:

David: "One day we'll be able to afford safety equipment. Until then, we'll just have to deal with Quartermaster's Ropes Course. And a lot of pillows."

There's point near the last 20 minutes where either it got kinda boring or I just got too tired to keep track. But if there are any quotes you think I missed, please share them! This was a really lovely bit of content to feed our starving maw, and I appreciate Miles very very very much for taking one for the team.

#campcamp #camp camp #cc david #roosterteeth #rooster teeth #miles luna #this isn't content #it's more like a public service #also i threw the gwenvid in like the trash goblin I am

[yakumtsaki]

Welcome, dear readers, to part 1 of the finale to the BackupKingdom2 saga! We’re in our final ambition now, let’s check how Liz’s post-divorce-bloodbath is going..

Oh yes, excellent. Our path to death-achievement-glory has been paved with so many executions that wherever I look I see npcs crying..

..comforting each other..

..and in Agnes' case, coming straight to Liz to.. ask for mercy for the populace I guess?? Bruh. I can't believe we even brought down AGNES, truly this is the saddest kingdom on earth. Amazing job, Liz, you've definitely earned your place in the tyrant hall of fame!

Now a lesser player would be like "oh, maybe we should chill a little on the insane tyrant thing, finish the Pirate/Noble arc cause we've been dragging this war out so the pirates/guildsmen would keep spawning and it should have ended like 20 quests ago" and true, we could just end it, we ran a very effective operation around here, shoutout to MVPs Donius and Bellinda and their 'seductive' legendary traits:

They bedded them and Liz beheaded them, the power of teamwork! So one could say that we should consider raising kingdom morale now because everyone is so depressed but I think, if anything, now is the time to ramp it up and go for some of the other morally questionable achievements! Like Machiavelli said, you should commit all your atrocities at once! What do you think, Liz? Ready to get atrocious?

-OH FUCK YEA, I’M ENRAGED, I DROPPED MY FIDDLE IN THE PIT AND NOW I HAVE TO WAIT FOR THE SERVANT TO GET ME A NEW ONE!! WHY DOES EVERYTHING ALWAYS HAPPEN TO ME >:(

Aw I’m sorry Liz, but I’m sure you the upcoming suffering of your subjects will cheer you up!

-Ok motherfuckers, by order of the Crown aka ME -you hear that Rae?? ME, NOT YOU. God I want to execute you so bad, fucking ingrate, do you remember what rags you were wearing when I hired you??  

Let’s get this back on track, Liz.

-Right, so by order of the Crown, Magus Olivia and Spymaster Spainot are given COMPLETE LEGAL IMMUNITY to do whatever the fuck they want in the interest of earning achievements, so don’t you people come crying to me cause I don’t give one tiny chinchilla crap about your health and livelihoods. If you need me for something actually important, I'll be at the gates, executing anyone who doesn't like my fiddle playing.

-Oh man, this folksy peasant hat isn’t protecting my ears enough.

-THOUGHT I WOULDN’T HEAR YOUR LITTLE MURMUR, DID YOU  -YOUR MAJESTY NO I ONLY MEANT MY EARS WERE COLD -WELL ALL OF YOUR BODY’S ABOUT TO BE COLD NOW! CONSTABLE, THROW THIS PEASANT IN THE PIT

-Death marker? I hardly know 'er!

So the Constable npc has this little Billy Elliot subplot going, I'm pretty sure he has the 'drunkard' fatal flaw because he was always at the tavern so I had Bellinda try to hire him to perform in one of her plays just to see what would happen and it actually worked, and now he moonlights as an actor! It's cute but it also takes forever for him to come arrest people.

-THEY LOVE ME ❤️😁 -CONSTABLE WHATSYOURNAME, COME OVER HERE AND DO YOUR FUCKING JOB OR YOU'RE NEXT FOR THE PIT

-No one knows what it's like to be the bad man, to be the sad man, when someone dies😢

In the background you can see that Bellinda just got a pregnancy bump, it’s her lovechild with Donius, I for real can’t keep these two apart. Anyway, the time has come..

..to unleash Magus Olivia onto the populace.

-You know what, I'd rather not, this book is finally getting good and I'm sick of cursing peasants, it doesn't even drop their mood that much..

Oh no, Olivia my beloved, we're not cursing them, we're going for the 'Well Done' achievement!

-NO WAY.

WAY.

-Won't I be executed??

You have immunity! You can do whatever you want!! And, AND, once you complete it, because I know it's tiring, I'll give you a magic skeletal parrot as a gift!! Edward got all the materials for it while treasure-hunting, you'd think I'd let him keep it but that's not the kind of shop I'm running here.

-This is my face of pure, childlike happiness!

Good lord, it’s terrifying, please don’t look at me like that.

-Alright, time to roll down my sleeves so they look more sinister and do this thing.

You can do it, Olivia!

-Of course I can, save your reassurance for the flops that need it.

-I.. cast.. INFERNO!

...

-What?

I mean really, those are the words, "I cast inferno"? Can't you say something with more evil magical flair?

-Not when I have to cast it 80 fucking times I can't.

-IT BURNS, IT BURNSSSSS

Oh how the tables have turned, usually it's the witch that gets burned, huhu! Did you hear that, Olivia? Did you like my joke??

-Oh, it's beautiful!

Well it wasn't one of my best-

-Not you, you needy moron, the sight of burning flesh! I can't wait to do this 79 more times!

Alright, so everyone in the tavern has been turned into a chicken nugget, time to get some rest and check in with Spainot!

-Amazing news, Rodolfo, I just got royal permission to unlawfully lock up and interrogate whoever I want for the achievements!!!

-Darling, no offense, but aren't you a bit too shit at your job for that? -WHAT????

-FUCK YOU RODOLFO YOU'RE JUST JEALOUS OF MY SUCCESS -I WISH I WAS JEALOUS OF YOUR SUCCESS, THEN YOU'D BE SUCCESSFUL AND I WOULDN'T BE MARRIED TO A BROKE LOSER

-And then he says the only reason he hasn't dumped me is he doesn't wanna be a rando npc while Batshit Liz is on an execution spree, can you believe this bullshit? How can anyone be so hurtful??

-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA NO NO PLEASE DON'T HAVE THIS CHINCHILLA MAUL ME I'LL GIVE YOU WHATEVER YOU WANT

-How about you give me some marital advice, are you even listening?! Ugh.

That's right, while Olivia is inferno-ing the peasants, I've sicced Spainot on the nobility, specifically all those foreign diplomats that are always hanging in the reception hall, lagging up the place. We're going for the 100 interrogations achievement and we’ve installed a nice spiky torture chair right in the middle of the hall to save time! Now this is how we keep every stratum of society terrified enough to not realize that the person in charge is.. uh.. well you know:

-DANCE TO MY FIDDLE, PIRATE, DANCE!

-I AM!!!!!

-DANCE MORE ENTHUSIASTICALLY. ALL THE WAY TO THE PIT

After a couple days and several locations I feel we’re pretty close to 80 infernos!

I’d say we’ve burned a good 50-60% of the population at this point, everywhere I look I see singed townies-

-so we take this little barbecue to the palace because we’ve ran out of peasants and it’s time to start burning the foreign dignitaries. And it’s a good thing we do, because Olivia meets Nyrexis the Dragon!!!! 

Nyrexis is the human form of the dragon from a hilar quest where there’s a dragon in the kingdom and you can either befriend it or slay it, I had Bellinda befriend it:

So if you complete the befriend route of the quest, the human form of the dragon appears in town and is in love with whoever did the quest, in this case Bellinda. I am of course not about to waste Dragonfu on Bellinda’s basic ass, plus I feel Olivia is kind of a dragon with all the people she’s been burning so they have a lot in common! 

We dazzle Dragonfu with a coin trick! True magic at work.

-OMG IT WAS BEHIND MY EAR THE WHOLE TIME -I KNOW!

Good God, all of Olivia’s ‘happy’ expressions are terrifying, just don’t smile ever again, you’re too evil for it, you’re gonna scare the dragon away!

Or not!!!!

 AWWWWW 🐲❤️🔮

You know what, fuck it, let’s lock it down, when it’s right it’s right!

-Burn stuff with me forever?? -I WILL!!!!

-We are gathered here today, under threat of fiery death, to join two unholy abominations in holy matrimony. Yes, the irony is not lost on me. 

AW CONGRATS GUYS <3333 The wizard tower is so small and family un-friendly and Olivia is so unmaternal but come on, like I’m not gonna have her reproduce with a fucking dragon.

Back to Spainot, we’ve hit a slight bump, mainly that this Snordwich lord is proving fucking impossible to torture. 

-Um.. Are you enjoying this??? -Sure am, bad boy, but why don’t we take this somewhere more private already?

Wtf, stop sexually harassing the innocent person who’s torturing you! Does no one around here have any sense of humanity anymore??

-Come on, Spainot, throw some flesh-eating rodents at him! -I’M BUILDING UP TO IT, RAE, GAWD. No one likes a back-seat torturer!

-HA, who’s the loser now, Rodolfo? Rodolfo?? RODOLFO

Ya Spai I don’t know how to tell you this, but I’m pretty sure he left while you were interrogating, I haven’t seen him in like 3 days.

-WHAT. So Olivia completes one achievement and gets a dragon wife and a magic skeletal bird and I complete three and get dumped?!

Well what do you want from me, I don’t make the rules!

-YES YOU DO

Can we move on, please? And Olivia had a very rough go of it-

-she got burned in some rando quest and looked positively karma-stricken after, inferno-ing left and right while sporting this look! She deserves a magic bird!

Congrats on your success and 4 kids, Olivia! 

-I love this skeleton bird more than I thought it possible to ever love something.

-Gee, thanks mom. 

We had leftover bones so here, Spainot, you get a magic bird too.

-A bone parrot is little comfort when you’ve lost the only bone that matters! Why Rodolfo, whyyyyy!!!!!!!!!

Oh I don’t know, probably because you challenged him to duels 3 times a day?

-No, that can’t be it.

Correct me if I’m wrong, but you look like a man who has nothing to live for?

-Yea, I certainly don’t.

So you wouldn’t mind like, jumping into the pit multiple times so you can get the parts we need for the hardest achievement in game aka Legendary Doomsword?

-Rodolfo had one of those too, it was legendary and now that it’s gone I’m doomed!!!

Ok ya ENOUGH metaphors about Rodolfo’s absent penis, although they really are writing themselves. We’ll get him back! If you survive all the pit jumping that is. Join us next time for part 2: Legendary Doomsword!

#tsm

[refriedweeb]

YOU SAY I AM WHOLE WRAPPED UP IN YOUR ARMS (HAWKS + FEM!PREGNANT READER)

A/N: HEY BABIES! I'm back from the beach and ready to fuck up some feels. This comes requested by @peregrinestook <3 I listened to the softest, gentlest, saddest music writing this, so I hope you enjoy my babies

Prompt: “how about some hawks fluff with a pregnant reader? 🥺”

Tags: fluff, pregnancy, pregnant reader, domestic hawks

Word Count: 2,151

You shouldn’t have been surprised that what felt like a blink of time in you and Keigo’s relationship, you’d wound up pregnant. It was a two to party sort of ordeal, and as two adults there was only so much that could be spoken for. You knew Keigo went into periods of rutting in the spring, where all he did was want to claim a mate and to have babies with them. It was part of his instinct as an avian hero, and just because you’d been some several fresh months into your relationship didn’t make you exempt. As a matter of fact, while you’d been doing the deed that had gotten you pregnant, Keigo had uttered over and over again how he was going to put a baby in you. How excited he was to get you pregnant.

And you knew what they said about the things you spoke into the universe becoming a reflection of your reality...

Four weeks later, your period had been late. The first thought in your head had been that it’d just been thrown off by some hormonal shifts from the other women that worked around you on a day to day basis, but then it still hadn’t come after another week had passed. And then that lingering thought in the back of your mind had rolled all the way to the front of your thoughts. You might have been pregnant. It certainly would have added up, your last period before the missed one having fallen just in front of Keigo’s rutting season. Without telling Keigo what you thought was up (partly out of fear that he’d react poorly now that he was out of his rutting season and partly because you didn’t want to instill a false sense of hope if a family was what he wanted) you took a handful of pregnancy tests. They all came back positive. You made an appointment with a doctor to get tested. That came back positive.

Of course, Keigo had noticed it before you had. It was something in you that had shifted in a way he’d never seen before. The way that your skin just seemed to glow more than it ever had before. It was the way that the smell of you changed to something else he hadn't ever had to know before. Yet, even with his suspicions that you were carrying his child, Keigo didn’t say anything to you about it while you were still working out what was going on. The thing about Keigo wasn’t that he didn’t want a family. As a matter of fact, he did want one. The reason that Keigo waited for you to come to him with the realization that you were pregnant, was one much darker. He’d grown up without any true idea of what a family and unconditional love was. For someone like Keigo, the want and realization that he could have a family was terrifying. What if he wasn’t a good parent? What if he’d fuck his child or children up in the way the commission had done to him because that was all he’d known in terms of parental figure? Keigo couldn't imagine doing to an innocent child what had happened to him. What if his child came out with wings and the commission saw some way to capitalize or exploit it? There were so many points of confusion and contradiction in his head about how to feel about the impending news you were bound to tell him, he didn’t know how to feel about it.

He wanted a family. He wanted what he’d gone his entire life without. But just because he wanted that...didn’t mean he’d be any good at it.

Keigo had been relatively quick to change his tune on that. It’d started when you approached him with the collection of pregnancy tests you’d been hiding and the ultrasound you’d gotten when you’d gone to the first appointment to confirm with hard proof that there was indeed a baby growing inside you. He’d held those pregnancy tests in his hand, stared down at all those positive pregnancy signs on the little sticks. It’d hit him pretty hard in that moment, but had been nothing compared to the semi-truck that had plowed right through him when he’d seen that ultra sound of a little tiny chicken. One that was supposedly growing inside your belly. Keigo had been silent for a long period of time, his avian eyes glued to that little tiny thing that was developing inside you. He’d been quiet, stoic while you shifted around nervously, waiting for him to say something. 

When he finally remembered he had a voice, Keigo’s words were simple. Effortless in how they’d fallen off his tongue. “I’m going to be a dad.”

That’d been months ago, and since you’d handed that ultrasound to him, Keigo had known what he wanted with you. Now, you’d just passed your four month mark, just over halfway to when your due date was. And Keigo had been nothing shy of perfect. Every weird or odd craving you had, he’d jumped to get it or find it, or find someone who could get it. If he’d been obsessed with touching you before, it’d only been amplified since the appearance of your baby bump. You knew it’d always been in Keigo to have a breeding mindset, but the sex had turned an entirely different corner during your pregnancy as well. Things were different, though not in a bad way. He’d never thought you as weak or needing coddling before, but Keigo handled you in a very different way now. He was mindful that his child grew inside that beautiful belly of yours.

The past couple of months had gone by in a whirlwind. The place you and Keigo had gotten together (though really before that you might as well have been living together with how often you were at his place) was fully furnished, the nursery that would become your child’s slowly coming together as you and Keigo worked together to make it perfect. Despite the chaotic schedules you both worked around, Keigo hadn’t missed a single appointment. On his patrols and when he did his hero work, he carried a tinier version of that first ultrasound you’d given him. Folded up and creased well from how many times he’d opened it up to either show others or to look at it when he was hovered in the sky with a soft smile on his face. Despite his fears, his worries about his own ability to parent a (hopefully) mini-version of the child he’d been (and could hardly remember) before the commission had gotten a hold of him.

And you...he was so in love with the thought of you as a mother. As his wife, as his partner for the rest of his life. Keigo had never felt particularly fond of the domestic approach to life, so sure that he couldn’t have one of his own. But all it’d taken was the right person, the right time. All it’d taken was you.

Such were thoughts and memories that filtered through his mind as he rested his head on the bump of your belly, his index finger tracing idle shapes over the soft skin there. It was a lazy day, and neither one of you had thought it worthwhile to get out of bed. Keigo’s cheek was pressed up against your belly, letting out little coo’s and trills from the back of his throat, hoping that his son or daughter could hear him through the skin, muscle, and fat. He nuzzled his head against it, which only brought a giggle from you, causing your belly to shake as his head popped up.

“What?” Something that you’d taken notice to since the moment Keigo had jumped on the fatherhood bandwagon, was how much more protective he’d become over you. Any moan or groan from stretching or even the smallest pain that had nothing to do with your baby, set him on edge. There were times where it could become overwhelming, but you knew he did it with the best intentions. He just wanted to be able to protect the things that he thought were most precious to him. You and his unborn child.

“Nothing,” you answered, head propped up on several pillows. You reached out and pushed some golden blond hair from where it’d flopped onto his forehead. “You just tickled me, is all.” Keigo watched you for a beat longer to make sure that was all that was wrong, before he dropped his head back to your belly and resumed his tracing. He traced your belly, you combed through the usually windswept and knotted golden hair of his with gentleness. The two of you lapsed into a stretch of quiet, though it’d always been comfortable. You stared down as Keigo followed the route his finger too, the only sound following shortly after the sounds and tongue clicks that came from the back of his throat. 

“Do you think they’ll like me?” Came his sudden question. “Our baby, I mean. Do...will I be a good dad?”

It’d been a question you’d seen in Keigo’s eyes several times throughout your pregnancy so far, but never one he’d actually vocalized. To hear it asked then, his voice so hesitant as if he really considered the fact that the answer would be a no, broke your heart. You sat up straighter in your position. Keigo stirred, twisting around so that he could look up at you. His brows were turned up, eyes open and vulnerable as he waited for your answer. 

“Keigo,” you said, feeling the (pregnancy hormonal) shift of emotions overtake your thought process. Quickly enough, tears prickled at the corner of your eyes. “Keigo, how could you not be?” You leaned in as much as you could with your protruding belly. “You are going to be the best dad to our little chicken nugget,” you said, hand reached out to cup his cheek, the stubble tickling your palm. “And they are going to love you so much, and nothing is going to change that.”

He thought about the things he’d done in his life prior to meeting you. Prior to wanting to be a better version of himself that didn’t rely on a cynical sense of self-preservation in order to get through the days. It’d taken so long for Keigo to admit to himself that he had a life worth living. He averted his gaze from yours, looking down to your swollen belly. “You think so?”

Your grip on Keigo’s chin tightened, bringing that look back up to meet yours. “Of course I do. You know why I think that? Because you didn’t have it, and you would never want anyone to have to go through what you did. Because you have so much love already in your heart, for me, for our baby.” Your thumb brushed over his cheek, and Keigo leaned into your touch with closed eyes. “Because it’s too easy to imagine you waking up in the middle of the night and tripping over some toys in the nursery to feed them, teaching them how to tie their shoes, how to fly if they have wings like they’re incredible dad,” the tears in your eyes blurred your vision, and you felt wetness on Keigo’s cheek from his own tears. “Taking them up to look at the stars, to chase the sunset, and giving me a heart attack the entire time you’re gone,” you whispered. “I couldn’t have picked a better person out there in the world to raise a family with.” was your conclusion, the words final as you swept away his tears. “Please don’t doubt yourself like that ever again, Keigo.”

He opened his eyes slowly, golden eyes noticeably softer. The emotion behind your words were ones he felt straight to the center of his being. How heavy the conviction was behind them. Keigo leaned over and pressed a series of chaste kisses against your belly. A belly that held his future and half of his world in it. The imagery you’d made with your words played in his head like a movie he had yet to see. “I’m sorry, kid. I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

You shook your head, hand moving back to his hair. “Don’t be. Just know whatever it is you think you won’t be able to do...you’ll be able to do. Especially with me at your side.” Your stomach gave a little rumble, drawing both of your attention to it. “Though, I do think baby Keigo could do with some chocolate and marshmallow ice cream right about now...”

This perked Keigo right up, and with one final press to your belly he was sprung from the bed, throwing on some grey sweats and the jacket he wore when he flew. “I’ll be back in ten.”

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