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#for those writing fanfics
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plumadesatada · 1 year
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just remembered a fic on AO3 (or more likely LJ because it had that distinct late 00's experimental vibe) that appeared double-spaced oddly, in that some paragraphs would be spaced normally and others would have double or even triple spaces in between. it was about one half of the otp getting over the other's death (or coma, can't remember which), so all the comments were about how poignant the use of visual spacing was as a means to convey all the emotional holes in the character's life.
and then the author replied like... *giggle* guys it's NOT double spaced. try selecting the whole text
and we were all like "no WAY"
but we selected the text, and yes!!!
the "holes" in the story? they were actually lines and actions from the dead/coma character's ghost, rendered invisible to the eye by the simple trick of coloring the text the exact same as the background, revealed by nothing more than a click and a drag of the mouse
a story about the profound loneliness of losing your the partner of your life and having to make do without them, without anything to fill the holes they'd left behind, suddenly became a story about the profound helplessness of seeing someone you love suffer from your absence while you are right there, unable to do anything about it, unable to communicate that you love them enough to suffer unseen and unheard with them, just to keep them company they'll never know about
it was then that I truly realized how *superior* the digital medium is to plain printed paper, how the medium and the format can add to a story.
I think about that fic about once a year. I wish I could find it again
EDIT: FOUND IT!!!! UPDATE HERE
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ao3-shenanigans · 4 months
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Kicking my feet, giggling as I write silly little comments to hype up my favorite authors
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elexuscal · 10 days
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squinting at the 'fix it fic' tag on any given story on Ao3, trying to discern if it's intended in the sense of:
I genuinely think the story had bad writing and I am taking my toolbox and improving it [and i the reader agree]
I genuinely think the story had bad writing and I am taking my toolbox and improving it [and i the reader disagree]
The story's ending was Tragic and I Respect that but also i just want to read about my faves having some kind of joy and fulfilment okay?
The story's ending was Tragic and I do Not Respect That please God Damnit Let Them Be Happy
We Are Literally Fixing The Canon With The Application of Time Travel or Reality Warping or some other Wild Plot Device
I am going to fix one obscure detail or plot element that 95% of the fandom has never thought about in their life
(because these are all extremely different vibes)
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sopuu · 2 years
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WHAT TIMELINE AM I ON
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We all want Astarion to get cured and walk in the sun but idk.
I kind of like how the game acknowledges that sacrifices are made when you do the right thing, that sometimes things remain horribly unfair and the terrible things that happened can't always be undone, but you can still live with it, still find a way to find happiness.
But good God Larian, please patch that ending scene!!
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lees-chaotic-brain · 7 months
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For You (Gojo x Reader)
What if you were sealed instead of Gojo?
CW: Shibuya Incident spoilers, angst, not canonically accurate (just roll with it for the plot it doesn't have to make complete sense), swearing, so much angst
Part Two | JJK Masterlist | Blog Navigation
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Gojo knew that you were strong. He wouldn't have fallen in love with you out of fear if he didn't trust completely in your ability to return to him.
But that was before.
Before the shell of someone the two of you once knew and loved appeared.
Before he allowed himself to be distracted for a split second.
Before you noticed what was happening and shoved him out of the way.
Before you stood in front of him, hands bound behind your back, body rendered immobile.
"Well, this is an interesting development."
Not-Suguru clapped his hands together.
"Oh well, this will do too. Actually, we just managed to nab the strongest's only weakness: his love."
"Who are you?"
You snarl, glaring at your former friend.
"Why, I'm Geto Suguru. Don't you remember me? I'm wounded."
"Bull. Shit."
All Gojo can do is stare blankly at you, and pray that this isn't happening. That one of his worst nightmares isn't playing out in front of him.
"I know damn well that Suguru would never go out of his way to hurt us. He may have hated non-sorcerers, but even at the end he held no hostility towards us. So I'll ask you again. Who are you?"
"Satoru."
Gojo jumped a little, but quickly smoothed his expression over as you used one of your techniques to communicate telepathically with him.
"You need to run."
No! He wanted to scream. There has to be another option.
You continue taunting and yelling at the creature inhabiting your friend's body, and Gojo realizes that you are desperately stalling for time.
"Listen, I know you don't want to. But right now, you can't do anything for me without putting yourself in serious danger. I'm expendable."
Not to him, you aren't. For you, he would tear apart the world with his bare hands. For you, there wasn't a risk he wouldn't take. He has to find a way out of this. For you. Because there was no world where you were fucking expendable to him.
"You need to run! Now! I don't know how much time you have, but I know you can make it outside. You are the strongest after all. Run. Regroup with the others."
He knows that what you are saying makes logical sense, but he still can't wrap his mind around it.
Then you spoke again.
"No one should be allowed to take youth away from young people. That's what we agreed, right? So go. Do it for our kids. Protect their youth. For them. For our dream. For me."
Quietly, oh so quietly, he says something.
"I'm scared."
He admits, so quiet you can scarcely hear him.
"I'm not."
Your tone is gentle and loving.
"You aren't abandoning me forever. This is only temporary. I know that no matter what happens, you will get me out of here. Not because you're the strongest or anything. Because you love me, and I love you. And nothing can keep us apart, 'kay?"
Moving as much as your restraints would allow you, you turn your head the tiniest bit so you can look at him.
"Go. Go save our kids. I believe in you. I'll see you soon my love."
Holding back tears, Gojo Satoru, the strongest sorcerer alive did the unthinkable.
Turning away from you and speeding up and out of the train station was the hardest thing he ever did, and will ever do.
But he did it.
For your many (unofficially) adopted children.
For your shared dream.
For you.
Always for you.
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
This physically pained me to write, but it was taking up WAY too much of my brain space lol. Let me know what you think, and feel free to send in any requests you have!
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ikeasharksss · 1 year
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hey im curious
feel free to rb & explain your answer in the tags!
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luxaofhesperides · 5 months
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We Are Robins meeting to Signal apprehending Danny ; requested by @zylev-blog!
“Hey, Danny. How are you feeling?”
Danny gives Duke a tired smile, his head falling back against the wall. He’s sitting up today, which is good. It’s definitely an improvement from the many days Danny was unable to do much but lie down and grit his teeth through the pain as Duke checked on the gunshot wound. It’s a good thing Danny’s a meta with a healing factor, or nothing Duke could have done would have saved him.
As it is, the wound was severe enough to keep Danny vulnerable and unable to move on his own without making it worse. Though Duke has looked, he hasn’t had any luck in finding whoever did this to Danny. He hasn’t brought it up to the rest of the We Are Robin gang, but only because Danny only let him help if he kept it between the two of them.
What’s another secret? If it lets him stay close to Danny and make sure he’s healing well, then he’ll keep quiet and carry on the search by himself. He’s got plenty of practice in doing things on his own.
“Busy out there?” Danny asks as Duke sits down next to him, dropping his backpack onto the ground. 
“Yeah, it’s tough with the cops after us, but someone needs to help Gotham and with Batman gone…”
A pained expression crossed Danny’s face. Eyeing him carefully, Duke opened his backpack and pulled out a few protein bars and sports drinks for him. Once Danny takes them and began eating one, Duke takes out the first aid kit, always kept at the bottom of the backpack, and sets it in front of Danny.
The most he can do is offer supplies and company at this stage of Danny’s healing. He gets twitchy and tense when Duke tries to tend to his wound, and seems to have plenty of practice in patching himself up. 
He didn’t answer when Duke commented on it once, so Duke let the matter drop. 
Metas may have legal protection, but that doesn’t stop people from targeting them. Duke has no intention of pushing Danny into remembering unpleasant things while he’s already wounded, hiding out in the upper corner of an abandoned warehouse taken over by a group of homeless people. Most aren’t inside during the day, choosing instead to be out with the rest of the city, which leaves them alone. 
Duke keeps an eye on the ground floor of the warehouse, making sure no one comes in while Danny tends to his wound. When he peeks back, he can see that it’s much smaller than it was the night Duke found him, crawling down an alley with one hand clutching his side, tears slipping down his face. There had been so much blood that Duke was sure he had just stumbled upon someone dying and froze, horrified. 
And then a shout down the road prompted him to move, hauling Danny up and helping him into the warehouse to hide. 
For a normal person, if it didn’t kill them, the wound would still be raw and bleeding, larger than any gunshot wound he’s seen before. But Danny’s wound is closing up quickly, no longer bleeding, the edges a healing pink.
It doesn’t look like it’s going to scar, either. 
“Think it’ll be all healed up by the end of the week?”
Danny glances up, then continues covering it with new bandage, large enough to cover the entire wound. “Hopefully,” he says. “Then I’ll be out of your hair and can figure out a way to get home.”
“Your folks gonna look out for you?”
“Probably. I’m not planning on telling them, though, since they’ll get way too overprotective. The only reason they’re not tearing Gotham apart looking for me is because I came here with my godfather and he told them we’d be gone for two weeks. Can’t believe he tried to kill me on day one…”
“Your godfather tried to kill you?”
“Yeah. Not personally, or anything, but he definitely hired the guy who shot me. Though he also yelled at him for shooting me? Not sure what that’s about, but I never trusted the guy and he didn’t try to help me afterwards when I ran away, so. You know.”
Duke wants to have a conversation with Danny’s godfather. Maybe bring the other Robins along to make sure the message sinks in: Don’t touch Danny.
But Danny, acting so casual about his godfather trying to kill him, would be unhappy about it, and Duke would really rather be able to take care of him than be shut out for trying to take control of the situation.
“Shit, man, that sucks,” he offers, instead of prying for details so he can hunt down his godfather. “You want a hug or something? I can’t really do much else, but if it can make you feel better about all this…”
Danny brightens and shoves the first aid kit away, his shirt (one of Duke’s old ones he offered up to replace the bloodstained one) falling to cover the bandage. “Please. I would love a hug, dude, I don’t remember the last time I felt so lonely.”
Carefully, Duke wraps his arms around Danny, leaning back so Danny could relax fully and not worry about holding himself up. Danny sighs into the hug, going fully limp as he drops his forehead onto Duke’s shoulder.
“Thanks for this. And everything,” Danny says some time later. He doesn’t move to pull away, so Duke stays as he is, watching the weak sunlight slowly move across the warehouse as it spills in from dirty windows. 
“You don’t need to thank me. I mean, I’m a Robin.” He brings up a hand to tap a finger against the R embroidered into his jacket. “It’s what we’re here for.”
.
.
.
It’s been years since he saw Danny. After he was fully healed, Duke helped him get to city limits, watching as he boarded a bus and disappeared down the road, leaving his life just as suddenly as he entered it.
After spending so much time together, quiet hours of stillness just looking out for each other, his life feels emptier without Danny in it. He knew it wouldn’t last, that Danny would go home eventually, but it didn’t make the parting any easier.
Even now, as Signal, taking a break from going on missions with the Outsiders to spend some time with the Bats, his thoughts drift towards Danny, wondering if he’s alright. In his darker moments, he wonders if Danny’s godfather has tried to kill him again, if he’s succeeded. In calmer, happier moments, he remembers Danny’s quiet stories about his family, his town, all his dreams and hopes for the future, remembers the easy company and how Danny didn’t look at him with pity when talked about his parents, just quiet and contemplative. 
Sometimes, he can’t resist the urge to look him up, but there are so many Danny’s out there that he doesn’t know where to start. He never got Danny’s last name or learned when he came from.
It’s not like he can just ask the Bats for help finding a guy he knew for two weeks before he ever joined them. They’re all busy with their own missions, and definitely don’t have time for Duke’s reminiscing. 
“Just caught sight of the truck entering city limits,” Oracle says in his ear. “It’s heading towards the Coventry.”
“On it. Any movement from the mobs?”
“None yet. I expect this to change soon. Red Hood and Black Bat are patrolling nearby if you need backup.”
“Got it. Signal out.”
His comline shuts with a little click, and then he’s grappling over the roof tops, keeping an eye on the roads in search of the truck. He doesn’t have time to think of Danny anymore, not when a shipment of new, experimental weapons is passing through Gotham. Spoiler had heard a few whispers of it and Red Robin helped find more solid details; the mobs are all looking to take the shipment for themselves in an attempt to get the upper hand in the nonstop fight for control of Gotham’s streets. 
It’s passing through during the day, visible and a good move to keep from being ambushed at night, but it’s not enough to stop mobs hoping to take out their competition with new weapons. Duke enters the Coventry just as his comline beeps once and Oracle begins giving him specific directions, along with a brief description of what the truck looks like. 
Apparently, the weapons are being moved in a U-Haul rental truck. That is… certainly a Choice™ to make for moving weapons around the country.
He follows it from the rooftops, but nothing happens. The truck passes through the Coventry without incident and takes a turn that keeps it away from Crime Alley and the Bowery. It gets to the middle of East End then pulls to a stop in the parking lot of a diner. 
Two people get out and stretch, then head in to get something to eat.
It would be the perfect time for someone to break in. Duke pulls the light over himself, manipulating it to make him disappear from sight as he looks down from the edge of the rooftop, tense and prepared for anything.
He almost doesn’t see it at first. It’s just a flicker, a flash of color, a shift in the shadows across the street. But he does see it, even if he can’t find it again, and drops down from the roof, creeping towards the truck.
Duke waits, holding his breath, off to the side of the parking lot. 
A minute passes. And then a figure materializes out of thin air, floating right behind the truck. All Duke can see is white hair and a black body suit; they’re either a meta or an alien, but either way, Duke is ready to take them down.
The figure lifts their hands and a bolt of neon green energy hits the truck, melting the back and leaving a large hole that gives them direct access to the weapons. And then they shoot again, destroying the weapons.
“Phantom!” someone shouts, and the truck driver comes tearing out of the restaurant, a white gun in his hand. His companion follows, her gun also out, and the begin shooting. 
Phantom dodges the blasts, then vanishes from sight. He reappears behind them a moment later, tackling back of them into the side of the truck. 
“No you don’t!” Duke say, rushing forward as he pulls at the shadows around him then sends them racing towards Phantom, restraining them. The driver and his companion collapse onto the ground, groaning weakly, and Duke grits his teeth. “O, send someone to look after the people moving the weapons. Apprehending an attacker now.”
He doesn’t wait to hear a response, tightening the shadow’s grip on Phantom, who struggles fiercely.
“We can do this the hard way, or the easy way,” he says, pulling Phantom closer to him.
Phantom doesn’t answer. They just scream, the force of it making Duke fall back. His shadows dissipate, and Phantom flies up.
“Get back here!”
Duke gives chase, dropping in and out of shadows, throwing some at Phantom in the hopes of catching him again. But Phantom is fast and it takes all he has to keep up as they cross Gotham.
He thought Phantom was flying around blindly, but the way they move across the roofs and then through the streets are too confident, too focused to be anything other than someone with a destination in mind. But where? Where could they be going? If they’ve been in Gotham, then Duke would have heard of them.
A flying, powerful meta with a multitude of powers? Yeah, he would have known about them.
Phantom flies through a wall and Duke curses, going onto the roof and looking around, waiting to see them fly out. But they don’t and Duke finds a broken skylight to drop in from, landing on the support beams of the warehouse, well above the ground.
He knows the warehouse, he realizes suddenly. It’s the warehouse Danny hid in while he was healing. Duke hasn’t been back in years.
“Just listen to me, please,” a voice says behind him, and Duke tense, spinning around to face Phantom, floating just out of reaching distance. “Those weapons are dangerous. No one should have them, it’s why I had to destroy them. Please, you can’t let them get those weapons out.”
Duke stares. Something about Phantom is familiar. The shape of his face, maybe. His voice. Maybe it’s just because he’s in the warehouse again, with someone pleading for his help.
Maybe it’s all in his mind.
“Danny?”
Phantom flinches, floating back a few inches. “What— How—”
“What happened? Is it your godfather again?”
“My— Duke? Is that you?!”
He definitely shouldn’t be doing this, but Danny’s here. Danny’s here in front of him, needing help, and he doesn’t need the Signal. He needs Duke.
He pulls off his helmet and lifts his bare face to Danny.
“Oh,” Danny breathes. “Well. I guess I should have known you’d be a hero. Can you help me one last time?”
“Yeah, of course Danny. Tell me what you need.”
“Those weapons, they were first made to kill me and others like me. It’s a whole thing I don’t have time to explain. But they’ve been changed to affect humans, all types of people, as well. I can survive a few hits from those weapons, but for most people, it would kill them instantly. I need to destroy all of them and stop any further production before the rest of the world gets a hold of them.”
“That’s why you—”
“They have to be destroyed,” Danny says. “And the people making and selling them need to be stopped. I can’t do it on my own. I’ve tried, but…”
“I’ll help,” Duke says, “I’ll help. This is a big enough problem to bring the Outsiders into it. Or the Bats, but they like to stay in Gotham.”
Danny floats closer, looking painfully relieved. “Really? They’ll be able to put an end to this?”
Duke reaches for him. “Yeah. they can do it. I’ll make sure of it.”
Danny’s feet land on the support beam as his hand meets Duke’s. They balance above the rest of the warehouse, drinking in the sight of each other. Duke rubs his thumb over Danny’s knuckles in soothing circles and watches as the tension begins to fall away from Danny’s shoulders.
“Duke,” he whispers, “I’ve missed you—”
The door below is kicked open, and a gunshot rings out. 
Moving on instinct, Duke tackles Danny, wrapping him up in his arms as they fall off the support beam. They hit the ground hard, rolling a bit, and Duke tucks Danny into his chest, bodily protecting him.
“Narrows!” 
The Red Hood stands over him, menacing, a gun pointed at him. 
“Hood?” He loosens his grip on Danny. “What the hell was that for?” 
“Thought you needed back up. You chased after our guy and lost your helmet, I think I’m right to be a little worried about you. So, who’s this?” There’s a hard edge to his voice, and Duke realizes with a sinking heart that all anyone else sees is an aggressor, a meta who attacked a truck full of weapons, attacked two people, and had to be chased down by the Signal. Jason’s seeing a threat and acting accordingly, putting Duke’s safety first. 
And with his helmet off, identity clear, Danny’s even more dangerous now that he has this knowledge.
“I’m sorry,” Danny whispers to Duke. He doesn’t have time to ask for what? before Danny’s shooting another beam of green energy at Jason then taking off, flying through the roof and out of sight.
“Shit,” Jason mutters, straightening up from where he ducked to avoid being hit, then puts his gun away and kneels next to Duke. “You alright? Why’d you let him go? I thought you had him.”
“I’m fine. He’s not… He wasn’t going to hurt me. He just needed help.”
“Sure. And what are you not telling me?”
“I knew him. He’s a good person, but he’s been in danger for a long time. This was him trying to protect others from what he went through.”
Jason takes off the helmet and stares at him. Then he sighs and reaches a hand down to help Duke to his feet. “Alright,” he says, “Let’s head back to the truck. You have until then to convince me that they’re the problem, and if they are, then I’ll help you blow up more of their weapons.” He claps a hand on Duke’s shoulder, then pulls his helmet back on. “Grab your helmet. We’re wasting daylight, Narrows.”
There’s nothing else he can do, no way to search for Danny when there are other leads to chase, so Duke grapples up to the catwalk where his helmet landed and grabs it.
Just before he puts it on, he sees a flicker of white just outside the window he’s facing. He ducks his head to hide a smile. It’s almost like he’s stepped back in time; Danny’s here in Gotham, needing help and asking for it in the warehouse. 
And though so much has changed in those years, there’s still one thing that Duke will ensure never changes: he’s Danny’s hero. Above Robin, or Signal, or anything else, Duke is Danny’s hero.
This time, he has the power to actually help Danny. He’s going to make sure no one ever hurts Danny again.
“Let’s go,” he says, jumping back down to Jason, helmet on. “I’ll tell you everything you need to know.”
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nibbelraz · 5 months
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If Bingqiu gets their own little stories, then I'm sure people would also start writing about the cold and powerful Demon King of the North and his most trusted advisor
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yikes-ajax · 6 months
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I dont have a clever and witty sarcastic comment tonight, I just think she's cute
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anto-pops · 9 days
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Possessive Touch - Sebastian Sallow x Female!Reader
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Summary: Sebastian has never been the sharing sort. He was happy to loan people notes or quills, maybe even the occasional book from the Restricted Section. But not you. Never you. 
Alternatively summarized as Sebastian acting incredibly possessive after watching you hug someone else and then staking his claim on you the only way he can.
Word Count: 3.4k
Warnings: 18+, aged up characters, explicit sexual content, possessive behavior, rough sex, yandere!Sebastian
Locked away in my drafts for months and unearthed by this ask I received. Everyone say thank you anon
Full fic can also be found here on Ao3 (with better tags as usual)
There were a number of words you could use to describe Sebastian Sallow. He was smart, loyal, and daring, to name a few. As brave as any Gryffindor and as insightful as any Ravenclaw, he had many positive attributes that you found to be remarkable. But every coin had two sides, and as much as you admired his more positive attributes, he could also be equally callous, brash, and vindictive when circumstances called for it. His moods fluctuated frequently and gave you whiplash half the time, because more often than not– despite it being accidental– you had a tendency to be the root cause of his emotional turbulence. 
You hadn’t meant for your conversation with Ominis to last for so long, much less for it to cut into your allotted study time with your boyfriend. The Gaunt scion had, in a moment of weakness, confided in you about the burdens of his personal life with a kind of desolate demeanor that tugged at your heartstrings and made you genuinely feel bad for him. You had lent him your ear for nearly an hour, and eventually your shoulder as he came to rest his head against it to embrace you in thanks. It was simply you comforting a friend; offering him a brief moment of reprieve from the dreary thoughts that had plagued him for Merlin knew how long before the two of you had gone your separate ways. Nothing more, nothing less. 
It had apparently looked like something more to Sebastian, though. He had been watching from the end of the Dark Arts Tower corridor with narrowed eyes, jealousy burning in his veins as he took in the sight of his girlfriend holding his former best friend in a manner he deemed reserved for him and him alone. You didn’t know how much of the exchange he had actually witnessed, but all that mattered was that he had seen the two of you hugging. Wracked with a silent yet palpable fury, Sebastian had dragged you down the steps of the Undercroft before tossing you into the room without a second thought, your protests and justifications falling on deaf ears. 
A new word came to mind to describe Sebastian shortly thereafter. One that scared you as much as it excited you. 
Possessive. 
His fingers had branded you as he’d stripped you bare, pressing and pulling incessantly against your clothes until you were clad in nothing but your undergarments and left shivering under the intensity of his stare. He had stretched you out along the cool stone floor, his hands holding you down without a measure of care while he touched whatever parts of you he could reach. Your breasts were tender and sore by now– no doubt covered with tiny fingertip sized bruises from the sheer strength of his groping. His breathing was heavy and tinged with the occasional grunt when he shifted his hips over yours, the telling bulge in his trousers more than likely causing him discomfort, but he paid it no mind as he took his time focusing on you. An unmistakable wetness had gathered between your legs despite the depravity, and as much as you wanted to clench your knees together to ease the rampant ache there, Sebastian’s own leg between yours prevented you from doing so. 
He was toying with you, that much was certain, and he was enjoying every blasted second of it. 
In response to your absentminded squirming, Sebastian moved so his knee was nestled directly against your core, the sudden pressure causing you to gasp and arch beneath him. He took advantage of your closer proximity and looped his arm under your back, holding you flush to him with a desperate sort of yearning that made you dizzy, and the way he inhaled your scent before groaning was almost primal.
A choked moan slipped from your lips as Sebastian ducked his head into the crook of your neck to bite and suck fervently, the pain laced pleasure blinding you to his true motives, but not for long. There was no doubt in your hazy mind that he was behaving so brutishly in some attempt to remind you of who you belonged to. Leaving visible marks would only further his intentions, and you found yourself whimpering as you trembled against the floor. 
After he bestowed a particularly playful nip against your marked flesh, Sebastian sat back on his haunches to admire his handiwork, taking in the sight of you dazed beneath him. You made quite the pretty picture; skin flushed, hair mussed, and an eclectic assortment of finger shaped lesions decorating your neck, breasts, and thighs. The knowledge that they had been put there by him only appealed to him more, and Sebastian hummed appreciatively at the sight. 
You, on the other hand, were coiled tighter than a spring. The Slytherin man had been edging you like this for what seemed like an eternity, but it realistically could only have been half an hour or so. Time was something of an illusion at present, and all you could truly focus on was your ardent need for release. The fiery sensation that stayed stubbornly aflame in your lower stomach was beginning to drive you mad, and you gazed longingly up at Sebastian, who in turn bit his lip at your watery stare. 
“Please, Sebastian,” you implored him, voice catching. His hands trailed down your chest and over your pert nipples before eventually settling on either side of your waist. Then with a grip tighter than Devil’s Snare, he tugged you harder against his knee with a wicked smile, forcing a low groan from your throat in response to the friction that he seemed to revel in. “Please.”
“I don’t know what you’re begging for,” he admonished in a low voice. “You’re going to have to be more specific, darling.”
Fuck, he was still upset. That much was obvious to you. It was evident in his tone, in the way his fingers dug sharply into the skin of your lower back– but mostly it was his eyes. The usual spark that danced behind his irises when he was with you was dull, and his gaze was anything but soft. It was hard and unyielding, cold and unfeeling. You were going to have to talk your way out of this one. 
Licking your chapped lips, you did your best to still your writhing as you grit through your teeth, “I need you. I can’t take any more of this, please Sebastian.” 
Both of his hands left your waist then. One of them braced flat against the floor to support himself while the other curled under your neck, pulling your head off of the ground to press your forehead against his own. The unrelenting pressure against your cunt didn’t lessen as he hunched over you and forced you to stare directly into those dark, greedy eyes of his, and you whimpered pitifully beneath him as he took in the delicious expression you bore. “Is it really me you need, or would any man do, hm? Should I fetch Ominis? Let the two of you continue where you left off earlier? Or maybe you’d prefer Garreth instead– your standards seem to be all over the place, so I wouldn’t be surprised.” 
“N-No–” you stammered around the word when his fist clenched painfully in the hair at the nape of your neck. “Just you– only you– I swear, we were only talking earlier–”
“That’s not what it looked like from where I was standing…” he muttered darkly, releasing your head and letting it thunk back against the floor softly. His hand was akin to molten fire as it trailed along your clavicle before he moved his thumb to lightly brush across your bottom lip. You barely had time to take note of the movement before he dove forward to capture your lips in a heady, domineering kiss that stole your breath from you completely, and all you could do was mewl softly when you felt his tongue sweep along the inside of your mouth. Sebastian groaned into the kiss, cupping the side of your jaw with his hand as he shifted his knee away from your core to give him the space he needed to drop his hips and grind his solid manhood against your thigh. He broke away for a split second to breathe out, “Say it again.” 
It was hard to get a word out with how ferociously Sebastian was kissing you, but eventually his mouth trailed wetly to the side of your face to suck another mark into the skin below your ear, and you managed to gasp out, “Just you, Sebastian. There’s only you, I love you.” 
The sound of his nails scraping against the stone floor beside your head drew your attention, but before you could roll your head to look, he was sitting up once more with a new sort of emotion glinting in his eyes. Those brown orbs of his were no longer flat or cold and instead appeared to be scalding with blatant lasciviousness, his want for you as potent as Firewhiskey. 
Through hooded eyes you watched as Sebastian reached for his belt, the sound of metal and leather coming undone filling you with a kind of urgency that left you biting the inside of your cheek hard enough to draw blood. Finally he would give you what you wanted– what you’d been craving from the moment he stripped you bare and pinned you to the floor. The version of your boyfriend above you hurriedly shoving his pants down his hips was unfamiliar to you; he seemed wholly animalistic, driven forth by some inherent, primitive need to claim you all for himself, and as much as you loathed his inability to rein in his jealousy at times, an equally intrinsic part of you craved his possessiveness. 
You were his, and he was yours. 
Freed from the confines of his trousers, Sebastian knocked your legs to the side so he had more room to situate himself between them. He slid his knees under your bent legs, caging the limbs under his arms as he ran his calloused palms down the tops of your thighs and the head of his cock slid through the overwhelming wetness that had gathered at your center. The rampant ache in your stomach roared back to life tenfold at the mere feeling of his thick shaft, and you twitched in anticipation while Sebastian fixed his lustful gaze on you. 
“That’s right,” he started to slide into your wet heat as he spoke, your mouth falling open around an airy groan at the sensation of being filled. “You’re mine. Everything you have to offer is for me and me alone, don’t you ever forget it.” 
Sebastian was stretching you out torturously slow, stuffing every inch of himself into you with a measure of control that went against his earlier behavior. He was utterly transfixed as he watched your chest rise and fall with panted breaths, and when he finally bottomed out with his hips flush to the backs of your thighs, a wanton groan ripped from your throat as your head fell to the side. Your hand shot up to push back against his lower stomach– silently trying to convey that you needed a moment to adjust– but Sebastian merely pulled his hips back and plunged back in, drawing a keen whimper from you that lit a fire in his blood. 
Overwhelmed tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you struggled to breathe through the sheer size of him breaching you, and you threw your arm over your face to hide the sudden flush you felt heating your cheeks. “S-Sebastian, I can’t– ah–” 
His hands slid down your thighs to grip at your waist once again, pulling you impossibly closer to grind against your ass before he began pumping into you steadily. It stole your breath– all of it; the angle, his bruising hold on you, his pulsing cock brushing against the deepest parts of you. It was exquisite agony, and a quivering moan tore from your lips when he leaned forward to spear downward into you, the head of his shaft hitting something that made you jolt against him. 
Your arm fell away from your face in that instant, your fingers scrambling for purchase against the stone floor beneath you, to no avail. “F-Fuck, you’re too much– Sebastian!” 
With your neck tipped back and your eyes squeezed shut, you felt Sebastian lean forward to brace his elbows on either side of your head before grasping your cheeks in his large hands. He lifted your skull from the ground and held your forehead to his again, prompting you to look at him as he slowed his pace. He continued to drive his hips into yours, but the mind numbing intensity had mercifully lessened. 
“You’ll never do this with anyone else,” he said brusquely, his breath fanning across your lips. You could only moan in response, especially when he started to grind against you after each plunge of his cock. “This is all for me– every bit of you was made for me– do you understand?” 
The grating moans that had been sounding from you transformed into gentler ones, Sebastian’s wave-like movements with his hips delivering tantalizing friction against your clit that had you melting beneath him. You nodded dumbly, and your boyfriend released your face to sit up so he could better watch as you fell apart under him. With one hand on your waist and the other propping him up, Sebastian held fast to you while he upped his tempo, pistoning his hips into you so fast and rough that the wet sounds coming from where you were connected were all you could hear. 
More choked whimpers cascaded from your lips, sounding like an angelic symphony as far as Sebastian was concerned, and he threw his head back as he got lost in the sensation of your velvety walls clamping down on his cock. You could tell he was close based on how ragged his breathing became, and your own looming climax frayed the remaining tethers of your self-restraint. You surrendered completely to him, relishing in the overwhelming fullness of him as well as the scrape of the stone floor against your shoulder blades. Pain faded into pleasure, the cold air of the Undercroft transformed into a blazing inferno, and you swore you had never been so thoroughly fucked in your life. 
When Sebastian’s gaze fell back on you, his eyes darkened and he practically snarled as he bent you clean in half. He nudged your knees over his shoulders so he could wrap his arms around you, burying his fingers in your hair and clenching the strands in his fists, and as he rammed his cock into you harder– more feral and beastly than ever– the air in your lungs was expelled with every intoxicating thrust. 
All you could see, smell, hear, and feel was him. He had effectively rendered you brainless as he claimed your mind, body, and soul, and the only thing you could do was submit to him and take it. 
Your clammy hands blazed a trail along his skin as you wrapped your arms around him, your nails digging into his back so hard that it had to sting– but if Sebastian’s throaty groan was anything to go by, he fucking loved it. 
“Gods, it’s so deep, isn’t it?” he asked you, the words coming out in-between panted breaths. A shiver ran up your spine at the thought before you clenched around him even more, the unmistakable feeling of his cock hitting your cervix making you see stars. “I’ll come inside– fill you up so good that you’ll walk out of here with it dripping down your legs. See what everyone else has to say about that.” 
You couldn’t even formulate a response. The most you managed was a witless, muffled cry of his name against his shoulder, the weight of him pressing down on you smothering any of the unintelligible noises that escaped you. His rapid, uncompromising pace drove you higher than you had ever thought possible, and your climax steadily built from a whisper to a deafening clamor. 
“Ah– Sebastian, please–” you babbled, spittle hanging from your lips as you begged. “Please, please, please–” 
The hands he had fisted in your hair tightened even more, prompting you to crane your neck back to ease the prickling feeling. “Please what? Come on darling, tell me what you want.” 
The bestial way Sebastian fucked into you intensified in that moment, his toes digging into the stone floor to lend him the support he needed to chase his own pleasure while simultaneously amplifying yours. It was too much– it felt too good– and you had to fight tooth and nail to get the words out before his efforts left you a useless, twitching pile of limbs beneath him. “Please, let me come!” 
“Swear that you’re mine,” he growled in your ear, the rough timbre to his voice making you tremble in earnest. “Tell me that no one else will ever have you like this– swear it.” 
“I s-swear– I swear it– I’m yours, Sebastian. Only yours, I swear, please please please– I swear–” 
Sebastian said nothing else, instead rewarding your admission with a toe-curling roll of his hips as he plunged in all the way to the hilt. He kept moving like that, the chill-inducing friction against your clit combined with his sinfully precise, cervix-kissing thrusts more than enough to drag your finish from you. Your walls fluttered around him as you lost control of your voice, your entire body quaking and jolting as an assortment of moans, cries, and and airy gasps poured from your throat. 
“Fuck–” Sebastian swore roughly, both of his hands abandoning their hold on your hair to brace against the floor to better support his body as you seemingly sucked him in deeper. “Good girl, fuck– I’m close. You're going to take it all, yeah?”
There wasn’t a chance in hell you could respond– not that Sebastian was waiting for you to. With a husky groan, he pushed himself as deep into you as he could go, getting a few last thrusts in before he bottomed out and unraveled. Hot, potent strings of his seed painted your insides, causing your eyes to roll back in your head before he began rutting and grinding his hips into you to milk as much of himself as he could. You could barely hear him mumbling for you to take it all– not that it was even up for debate– and when he finally relented and stilled his movements, you were too dazed to so much as glance at him. 
A warm, featherlight feeling brought you back to the present after a couple of heated moments. Sebastian’s hands brushed a few stray strands of hair away from your forehead, his eyes unapologetically roving over you as he took in the sight of your fucked-out expression. He seemed pleased with himself, a barely there smirk revealing itself as he dropped his hand to your waist to dig his fingers into the bruised skin there. You inhaled sharply, but beyond that, you didn’t so much as wince. You were far too weary for that. 
“In the future,” he started to say as he rocked forward, pressing his still-hard length into you briefly before withdrawing halfway, only to repeat the motion again. “I’d rather you keep your hands to yourself when you’re with your ‘friends’. Especially where Ominis is concerned…” he trailed off, his hands skimming along all the love-bites and bruises that littered your body. “That is, unless you want more reminders as to who it is exactly you’re dating.” 
One look into Sebastian’s dark, piercing eyes told you that he wasn’t bluffing at all. You already knew that he was more than willing to stake his claim on you should the need arise, and part of you even wondered if he would have the decency to do so in private next time. 
Next time? Would there even be a next time? He had certainly made his point.
The pleasant ache that lingered throughout your body had you second guessing yourself, however, and you honestly wondered if it would be worth it to rile Sebastian up again in the future. As terrifying as the thought was, you couldn’t help but entertain it as you smiled up at him innocently, a flurry of unholy visions racing through your mind as you relished in the possessive way he continued to touch you. 
When he began to move his hips again, you decided to label the notion as a ‘maybe’ for now. Clearly he was far from finished with you, and despite the mildly terrifying side of him you had just been made privy to, you couldn’t help but shudder in anticipation. 
Maybe rousing the sleeping dragon again wouldn’t be such a terrible thing… right?
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venelona · 7 months
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A pic I drew for my fanfic 'Write My Report' where we're doing paperwork mafia-style
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pizzaqueen · 5 months
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Rest Stop
Written for the prompt ‘rest’ for @steddiemicrofic
387 words / rated T / pre-slash
Recreational drug use
There’s a rest stop on the decommissioned road a little ways out of Hawkins. It’s not a lot of anything, a tin roof over a picnic table, but Steve likes it. Thinks of it as ‘his’ spot, even though Tommy H told him about it. But it’s a good place to be alone. To, well, rest.
And, sure, Hawkins is full of places like that, quiet, empty places, and alone isn’t something Steve likes to be that much, but nights like tonight…
He sighs, tips his beer to his lips. It doesn’t hit him often, but when it does, it’s a restless itch; he can get away from Hawkins, from his house, his job, his nonexistent love life, but he can’t get away from that feeling. Out here he gets close, though.
Tonight, his solitude is short-lived. Footsteps make Steve tense, and a deep voice cuts through the night: “Steve?”
The tension drains; Steve turns. “Hey, Eddie.”
Eddie blinks. “I found you.” He scratches his head, nods at the table Steve’s sitting on. “Mind if I…?”
“It’s a free country.”
“So I’m told.” Eddie’s lips quirk; he sits beside Steve, pulling a joint from his jacket. He waggles it; Steve nods.
“Why were you looking for me?”
An orange flame sparks from Eddie’s lighter, catching the end of the joint. “I wasn’t.” Eddie takes a drag, gives the joint to Steve.
“You said you found me…”
“Don’t have to be looking for you to find you.”
Steve shakes his head. “All right.” He takes a hit, relishing the pleasant buzz, passes it back.
“What brings the valiant Sir Steve out here?”
“I like the quiet.”
“That a hint for me to shut my yap?”
“No.” Steve knocks their shoulders together. “I like listening to you talk.” Why did he say that? He doesn’t really care. Huh.
Surprise flickers over Eddie’s face, but it settles into something pleased. “Good.” He winks. “Because I have plenty of stories to tell.”
After a few moments, Steve says, “Well,” waving his hand, “go ahead.”
Eddie’s eyes sparkle; he starts talking, gesticulating wildly, and Steve realizes the restlessness is gone. Maybe it’s the weed. He’s pretty sure it’s all Eddie.
Okay. Something to look at later. For now, he basks in Eddie’s voice and the easy, restful feeling of being near him.
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funkybarnes · 8 months
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stevie-petey · 3 months
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episode four: will the wise
“What do you want, Hargrove?” Steve asks, situating himself so that more of his body is in between you and Billy.  He sucks his teeth and then lets out a cold chuckle. “Nothin’, just didn’t know that this little sweetheart had it in her.” “Don’t call her that–” “I mean, her boyfriend runs off with your girlfriend?” Billy chuckles again. “I’m surprised Y/N Henderson ran into your arms, Harrington.”
summary: jonathan is gone for one day and suddenly all hell breaks loose, your hesitant friendship with steve is already rocky (thanks billy) but steve is hot when he's angry tbh, you become a couple's counselor to lucas and max (sorry dustin), and you're now officially the world's worst cat owner ever. and babysitter. but what else is new ?
Rating: general, swearing
Warnings: use of y/n, fem!reader, mentions of blood and scars and knives
Words: 5.7k
Before you swing in: hello ! happy friday, heres chapter 4 :) before i say more, i wanted to inform yall that i started doing blurbs for come home if youre interested in seeing more lil scenes between everyone. they can be found here x. anyways, i absolutely cannot believe we're already halfway through the season (im skipping episode seven obviously, since its just an entire el ep). this chapter we see a liiiil more of readers dynamics with the kids, so im super happy about that. next chapter we finally get steve, dustin, and reader so !!! hella excited about that. for now, pls enjoy <3
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Mike and Lucas split up and go outside while you, Dustin, and Max start running through the halls, shouting Will’s name. 
“Will!” You’re more pleading rather than shouting. It’s happening again. It’s fucking happening again. Your mind is running a million miles a second, you feel the cold hand of fear twist around your throat. The last time you felt fear like this was when you showed up at Jonathan’s house and collapsed in his arms right after finding out Will had gone missing. 
And now he’s gone again, but Jonathan isn’t here this time to keep you steady. 
Dustin cups both hands over his mouth. “Will!”
You all turn a corner but Will isn’t there. Nothing. 
“Dustin!” Joyce rounds the corner, alarmed. “What’s going on? Where’s Will?”
The woman is moreso asking you than the kids, but you can only shake your head at her helplessly. “I don’t know, Mrs. Byers.”
Joyce holds your gaze and you feel so ashamed of yourself. You’ve let her down again. She’s always been so trusting of you with her children, and here you are, once again a fucking wreck trying to find the son you’ve lost. 
Down the hall, a door flings open. “The field!”
The four of you turn and find Lucas standing there, panting and out of breath. He motions for you all to follow and in a heartbeat you begin to run outside after him. 
There, you find Mike in the field with Will standing next to him, and for a second you feel relief wash over you. He’s okay, he’s safe and isn’t in another dimension. But as you get closer, you notice the stiffness in Will and the way Mike is shaking his shoulder. 
Something isn’t right. 
“I just found him like this!” Mike is shouting. “I think he’s having another episode!”
This would make two in two days. 
When you reach Will, you finally grasp how dire the situation is. He looks horrible, his eyes have rolled into the back of his head and are spasming. His body shakes, his fingers twitch by his side and the veins in his neck strain. 
Joyce quickly grabs him and starts shaking his shoulders, pleading with him. “Will, sweetie, wake up! It’s mom!”
You cover a hand over your mouth as you watch, horrified. Dustin and Lucas stand next to you, each clutching your shirt in fear. Their fear grounds you, making you focus back on them and pull them closer to you. You try to give them as much reassurance as you possibly can, but you know it’s useless. All you guys can do is wait for the episode to end. 
Max stands across from you, watching the situation unfold with her own uncertainty. She doesn't understand what any of this means. Why this is happening to Will, and why you’re close to tears as Joyce pleads with her son to come back to her. 
The fear on her face is why you agree to Mike to not let Max into the party. They’re all so fucking young. Too young for any of this. 
“Will, can you hear me?” Joyce pats Will’s face and you pull the boys even closer to you. Mike refuses to leave Will’s side. 
“He’ll be okay,” you whisper to the kids, but you’re selfishly trying to comfort yourself. 
Tears form in Mike’s eyes and you just want it all to stop. Will isn’t waking up and Dustin is shaking against you and Joyce’s pleas have become more like begs and it’s all too much. 
Then, Will’s eyes snap open and he takes a sharp breath that hurts your own chest to hear. 
You release the breath you’d been holding. The worst of it is over.
Will looks around shyly, as if he already knows it’s happened again. Joyce exhales and kisses his cheek and wraps him in her arms. Mike and the others look around, uncertain but relieved, while Max stands off to the side. 
You wish you could explain it all to her, but it wouldn’t be right.
Slowly, once Will has recovered, you and the kids walk with Joyce back to their car. Dustin’s hand hasn’t left yours and you secretly wouldn’t let him go anyways if he tried. 
“Have the episodes always been like this?” You ask your brother, now remembering that he had to witness that alone on Halloween night. 
“Yeah,” Dustin responds, his voice small. 
You squeeze his hand and follow after Joyce. In your head, you’re creating a list of all the baked goods you can make with the ingredients you know you have in your kitchen. They all deserve some oatmeal raisin cookies after this.
When you get to the car, you break away from the kids and step in front of Will. He’s pale, paler than he’s been in a while, and it’s only now that you see the bags underneath his eyes. He’s gotten worse, how could you have missed that?
You should’ve seen the signs sooner. 
“Did I scare you?” Will asks, and you immediately grab his hand. 
“No, never. You just… gave me a reminder that I love you. Go get some rest, little bee.” You kiss his cheek goodbye and he quietly gets in the car. 
Joyce is behind you, and once Will is safely in the car you turn to face the woman. “Call me if anything else happens, please?”
She nods at you, already understanding why you need the reassurance. There’s a warmth in her eyes, even if every other part of her seems exhausted. “I will.”
“I know I’m not a scientist, or–or a licensed therapist but I just–”
“Sweetie, I understand. Apart from Hopper, you’ve done more research and reading than anyone else. If Will gets worse, I’ll call.”
You smile at the woman appreciatively. “Thank you.”
She squeezes your shoulders and then gets in the car, driving off. You stand there for a moment, needing a second to compose yourself, before turning around to join the kids standing on the school’s steps. 
They seem to have all forgotten about Dart, but you sure as hell haven’t. Dustin fiddles with his walkie and won’t meet your eye, which only reminds you of how weird he had been acting in the bathroom earlier when he conveniently couldn't find Dart.
The two of you are definitely having a code blue tonight. 
“Dustin, you’re my ride to work.”
“What?”
“Jonathan can’t take me, so I have to ride on your pegs.”
“Who’s Jonathan?” Max asks. 
You give the girl a thumbs up. “Love the enthusiasm to understand everything, unfortunately I need to get to work and lecture my little brother.” 
“Good luck, Dustin.” Mike snickers. 
Your brother waves him off. “Yeah, yeah.”
You say goodbye to the kids, giving a stern warning that if they find any signs of Dart to tell you immediately. “I’m looking at you, Wheeler.”
Mike groans and you leave him to wallow as you hop on Dustin’s bike pegs 
“She always this bossy?” Max mumbles to Lucas.
He shrugs. “Yeah, but she’s also always right, so.”
You blow a kiss towards the boy, and he blushes. Once Dustin is ready, the two of you head towards town. 
The bike ride is quick, one of the small perks of living in a small town. The entire ride, you and Dustin are quiet. You both know that you have many choice words to say, but Dustin still looks shaken up from Will’s episode and you’re not doing too well, either. 
When Bookstrordinary’s sign greets you, you tap Dustin’s shoulder to alert him to stop. You can walk the rest of the way, you don’t want him out too late in the dark. 
“You’re lucky I can’t call off tonight, otherwise I’d kill you right now.”
“You’re such a great big sister, Y/N.”
“Thanks, I try.”
You hop off the bike and sigh. “When I get home tonight, you and I are talking.”
Dustin looks down, but takes a deep breath and salutes you halfheartedly. You laugh a bit, salute back, and then tell him to bike home safely. 
– 
After a very long and anxious shift, you ask your coworker for a ride home.
Alex almost drops his keys and looks around, as if you could be talking to anyone else in the empty store. “M–me?” 
“Yes, Alex. I need a ride home.”
“Where’s Jonathan? I won’t like, die if I drive you, right?”
You roll your eyes. “No, he’d only kill you if you didn’t drive me home since it’s late.”
Alex exhales, relieved. “Okay, yeah. I can take you home, then.”
By the time you get home, it’s later than you anticipated. Alex was kind enough to drive you, but had you known he was a new driver who went ten below the speed limit, you would’ve just walked. 
You walk inside and all the lights are off. Your mom is on the couch with Mews, softly snoring while some program plays on the TV. She tends to do that now, fall asleep on the couch rather than her bed. Too many memories, she explained once to you. 
Quietly you take your shoes off and grab some leftovers in the fridge. Dustin’s door is closed and his own light is off, which you sigh at. 
“Shit.”
He could be tricking you into thinking he’s asleep, but you could just be overthinking it. Dustin has been having more nightmares recently, you’d feel horrible if you knocked on his door and woke him up from his much needed sleep. He’s been through enough today. 
You eat your dinner, alone at the table, and you wonder how exactly you’ve wound up here again. Monster on the loose, Will in danger, Jonathan off with Nancy. 
Seems like you can never have a normal November ever again. 
After you’re done eating, you tiredly head to your room and collapse on your bed. Except, instead of landing on your soft pillows, you land on a hard body instead.
“Oomph–” A voice groans underneath you. 
You fling yourself off, finding Jonathan laying there. “Jonathan Byers, what the fuck are you doing in my bed?”
He rubs his eyes. “Said we’d call tonight.”
You stare at him. “That doesn’t at all answer my question.”
“We said we’d call tonight, but then Nancy and I realized our calls could be traced here, too. To your house, but I promised to keep you updated, so… Here I am.”
“And napping in my bed was just something you had to do?”
Jonathan yawns. “Yup.”
You flick his forehead. “Scoot over.” 
He makes room for you on the bed so that you lay side by side. Technically he’s not supposed to sleep in your bed, but your mom never said anything about naps or cuddling. You nuzzle against Jonathan’s chest, allowing the fear and anger from today leak out of your bones as you rest them. He’s always had that effect on you.
Here, in Jonathan’s arms, you feel the safest.
“What did I miss today?” You ask once you’re settled in. 
Jonathan thinks for a moment. “Well, Nance and I got the tape recorder and then drove to her house. She called Barb’s parents, told them she had to confess something about Barb and to meet her tomorrow at Forrest Hills Park in the morning.”
“She’s a genius.”
“She is,” Jonathan lazily responds. He’s drawing small circles against your hand, which is splayed against his chest. His sweater, one you bought him for his birthday, is soft against you. Jonathan seems happy right now, or at least content, and you almost don’t want to ruin the moment. 
It’s so rare to have him like this these days. The old Jonathan, shy and quiet and bashful. 
But he has to know about Will and Dart. It’s only right that he knows. 
“Something happened today, at the middle school.”
There must be something in your voice, because the second the words leave your mouth, Jonathan sits up to look at you. “What happened?”
“My brother found a baby monster from the Upside Down, named him Dart, hid it from me, and now he’s lost.” Jonathan stares at you and you can only sigh. “Will also had another episode. His second one in two days.”
“Fuck…”
“Yeah. Got to the middle school and suddenly I was chasing around some lizard looking thing from the Upside Down. Pretty typical day, honestly.”
“I wish I could’ve been there, I’m sorry. I can help you look for Dart tomorrow–”
“It’s okay,” you reassure Jonathan. “If anything, this all just proves that you and Nancy are onto something. I mean, it’s been a year and we’re still dealing with so many fucking problems due to their carelessness. How the fuck does a creature from the Upside Down just happen to survive and find its way to my brother? I mean, what if someone else had found it?”
You shake your head. “Something’s going on. You and Nancy need to keep going. Expose those evil fuckers.”
Jonathan frowns. “But what about you? What if the baby monster has a bigger, angrier mom and you get hurt?”
You hadn’t thought about that, honestly. “Huh, that’s a great question.”
“Bug–”
“I’ll be fine, bee. Those assholes at Hawkin’s Lab need to pay.”
Jonathan throws his head back, closes his eyes, and sighs. He knows he can’t argue with you about this, you already willingly took over the role of babysitter, but he still doesn’t like it. Sometimes your selflessness makes him want to scream.
“I hate that you’re always right.”
“I personally love it.” You respond, and Jonathan laughs. He uses his whole chest, it’s breathy and deep and full of warmth, and you smile and kiss his cheek as he laughs. 
No other conversation follows, you and Jonathan are content with just laying there in silence. It’s been a while since you guys were this close. Limbs tangled with limbs, the warmth from the body heat almost too much to stand, yet just enough to love. 
He stays for a while, but eventually he kisses your forehead and tells you he has to go. “Early morning, but I promise I’ll be back the next day.”
“I’m holding you to that.”
Jonathan laughs again and untangles himself from you. He presses another kiss to your forehead, playfully tucks your blanket underneath your chin like a child, and then wishes you a goodnight as he leaves through your window.
– 
For some goddamn reason, you miss your four fucking alarms this morning and oversleep. By almost an entire hour. You’ve never, ever slept through your alarms this horribly before, and you’re blaming the Hawkin’s Lab people for it. 
Now, you know the real reason is because you’ve spent every night for the last three weeks obsessively researching post-traumatic stress disorder, but blaming Hawkin’s Lab makes you feel better. 
You get ready as fast as you can, and of course this happens the one morning Jonathan can’t drive you to school and you have to bike. Your mom and Dustin have already left, which. Fuck. You still have to talk to Dustin about Dart. 
Not off to a great start this morning. 
It takes a burnt piece of toast for breakfast, cramped calves, and a lot of prayers, but you manage to make it to school only minutes before the first bell rings. When you arrive, you have just enough time to notice that both Steve’s car and Bllly’s car are parked in the lot. 
Great. You have to deal with them both alone today. 
As you’re walking inside, you hear a few people whispering about Jonathan and Nancy. Seems like word has spread that they skipped fourth period together yesterday and still haven’t returned yet.
Awesome. Steve will definitely be in a great mood today once he hears about that.
He can’t seem to catch a damn break. 
And neither can you, because you quickly realize how weird it is being at school without Jonathan and Nancy. It’s lonely, and Steve still seems to be hiding from you. 
No, not hiding, you remind yourself. He’s still hurt, he asked for space and the least you can do is give it to him. You told him where to find you.
And find you Steve does. 
You’re in the lunchroom, staring sadly at your pathetic lunch consisting of a handful of granola bars, resolving yourself to a lonely lunch without your friends, when Steve’s body slides into the seat next to you. You look up, surprised, and he raises his eyebrows at you. 
“We need to talk.”
“Okay… About what? I forgot what topic we’re on. Are we still on the whole friends conversation?”
Steve isn’t in the mood for this. “Where did Jonathan and Nancy go?”
Fuck. 
You look around the lunchroom, scared that the wrong people could be listening in. “I… Okay, I know we just had a whole conversation about being honest and I begged to be your friend again but… I can’t tell you.”
Steve takes several seconds to respond. You know he’s doing everything he can to not completely snap at you. “You… can’t tell me where my girlfriend ran off to?”
“No…” 
“You recognize how fucking stupid that sounds, right?”
You swallow. “I do.”
Steve pinches the bridge of his nose. He’s so beyond pissed off right now. Yesterday you were in his car, reassuring him that he’s a good guy and charming and pretending to be his friend again. Now, you won’t tell him where the fuck his girlfriend has gone. 
Steve isn’t an idiot. He knows there’s more to why you ditched him this summer, something you refuse to tell him, and he respected that. He did. He hadn’t wanted to push you too far, but it’s pretty damn ironic that you’re trying to get back into his life while still fucking lying to him. 
You see the obvious frustration on Steve’s face, and you wince. You take another look around, deciding to risk it. This isn’t fair to him, he deserves to know because from an outside perspective, you’d also be incredibly pissed off if your girlfriend just up and left with the guy she has weird feelings for. 
“Listen,” you lean in close, whispering, “Jonathan and Nancy went off to get evidence about who really killed Barb.”
Steve whips his head back. “What–”
“Shh!” You reach behind his head and shove him back down so that you can whisper again. “That’s all I can tell you. There’s… There’s people who could be listening, bad people who could hurt us and–”
“Well, what do we have here?” A voice interrupts.
The hair on the back of your neck stands up. 
It’s Billy.
You and Steve break apart, but he places a hand on the back of your seat in a protective manner. You lean in closer to him, trying to make yourself smaller as if Billy doesn’t already have his eyes on you anyways. 
“What do you want, Hargrove?” Steve asks, situating himself so that more of his body is in between you and Billy. 
He sucks his teeth and then lets out a cold chuckle. “Nothin’, just didn’t know that this little sweetheart had it in her.”
“Don’t call her that–”
“I mean, her boyfriend runs off with your girlfriend?” Billy chuckles again. “I’m surprised Y/N Henderson ran into your arms, Harrington.”
Billy learned your name. 
You don’t want to know how. 
“I mean,” Billy shrugs. “It’s a genius plan. Scorned lovers pissing off their exes. But from what I’ve heard, the school’s sweetheart wouldn’t even hurt a fly.”
“Jonathan and I aren’t together.” You finally find your voice. 
This only seems to entice Billy. He takes a step forward and leans against your table. “So, you’re single then?” 
Steve’s hand tightens around your seat and you feel his body tense. Billy seems to notice this, too, and shakes his head. 
“I know I promised I’d leave you some, Harrington. But this one?” He leans in closer to you, his breath minty and cold as it ghosts against your face. “She’s cute. I think I’ll keep this one.”
A chair goes flying across the room as Steve stands up. He has his fist raised and you’ve never seen his eyes so cold before. He hates what Billy is implying about you, as if he has some claim over you, as if you aren’t a human fucking being. 
You’re so much more than that.
“Don’t talk about her that way.” Steve growls out, his face inches away from Billy’s.
Billy seems to come to life, having finally cracked Steve Harrington, and within a second he has his own fists raised. You’re aware of everyone’s eyes on you in the lunchroom and vaguely you remember Steve confessing to you how much of a hardass his father is on him about school. He can’t get into any more trouble, especially not because of you. 
You shove yourself between Steve and Billy, despite how much your body screams at you to run away for being so close to the other boy. You ignore him, and force Steve to look at you. “Not here. Please.”
Steve looks between you and Billy, sees the pleading in your eyes. He sighs and reluctantly backs down. 
“Seems like the sweetheart has you whipped, Harrington.” Billy remarks, a pleased smile on his face. “Makes me want her even more–Shit!”
Milk drips down Billy’s entire shirt. 
“Oops,” you say, without any ounce of sincerity. You set the empty carton down and give the boy a aren’t I such a clutz? look. “God, silly me! I can’t hurt a fly, but it seems I also can’t hold a milk carton properly.”
Steve stifles a laugh next to you, and around the room a few others are brave enough to laugh as well. You smile innocently at Billy, who looks five seconds away from flipping the table. “Sorry about that.”
Billy, knowing he’s being watched, forces a smile himself. “You’ll pay for that.”
“Oh, I’m sure the shirt was only worth $5 anyways.”
This time Steve lets his laughs out and it calms you, steadies the shakiness you feel as you stand off against Billy. You hope you’re hiding how fucking terrified you are right now. 
You wait for a response, but Billy only storms out of the lunchroom. It’s quiet for a few moments, but slowly the usual buzz in the room returns and everyone goes back to their conversations. You stand there, your heart still in your throat, and Steve’s hand brings you back. 
“Hey, sit.” He tugs you back down and you’re too numb to fight back. “That was awesome, but are you okay?”
“Honestly? No.” 
He thinks for a moment. “Alright, well. I’m still mad at you, so… Would it be shitty if I left?”
Despite everything, you find yourself laughing. “No, Steve. I understand.”
He lingers. “Are you sure? I mean, I can stay…”
“No,” you squeeze his hand. “We can talk more about this later. Alone, without possible psychotic spies around. Go.”
Steve bites his lip, but he’s still angry at you and he has so many things he wants to ask but you’re pale and still shaking from Billy. If he demands more from you, Steve knows it wouldn’t end well for either of you. You both need your space right now, that’s one thing he’s come to learn about you and relate to himself. 
Sighing, he stands up and, to try and make up for being the asshole who leaves a vulnerable girl alone, Steve ruffles your hair. “Stay out of trouble, will ya?”
“No promises.” You smile up at him, though you know it looks as tired as it feels.
He hesitates again, pauses for a few seconds, but eventually he leaves. And then you’re left alone again. 
– 
As soon as school lets out, you march straight over to the middle school, knowing the kids are bound to be there. Dustin, specifically. He’s managed to slip through your fingers three times now. 
Holy shit, you’re really losing your touch.
The second you find the little asshole you’re going to demand a code blue, doesn’t matter where you’ll be, and then interrogate him about Dart and figure out whatever the hell else he’s hiding from you. Then, you’ll make him clean Mews’ litter box for a whole month. 
You’re so lost in your revenge planning thoughts, you almost walk right past Lucas and Max arguing in the parking lot. 
“What is wrong with me? What’s wrong with you?” Max flies past you, her shoulder knocking against yours. You steady her and notice she’s talking to a very nervous looking Lucas. 
Oh dear. 
“I don’t understand!” He calls after her.
“Hey, what’s going on?” You try to intervene, but Max rips herself out of your grasp and gets in Lucas’ face. 
“No!” She’s shouting now. “I don’t understand! You guys act like you want me to be your friend but–but then you treat me like garbage?”
Huh. She’d get along great with you and Steve. 
Lucas looks over at you, helpless. “That’s not true!”
“Don’t look at me, buddy.” You tell him. 
“Yes, it is! You go and hide in the AV Club, keeping secrets like we’re in second grade or something…” Max’s words catch in her throat, giving you a glimpse of the hurt girl underneath her indifferent exterior. “You know, I thought you guys wanted me in your party.”
You step close to her. “Max, I know it might not make any sense but–”
“Don’t tell me you’re in the party but I’m not.”
Now it’s your turn to look towards Lucas for help. 
He sighs. “Look, we want you in our party, but it’s…”
“But what?” Max looks between you and Lucas, obviously becoming more and more hurt the longer this conversation goes on. 
“There… there are just things.”
“Things, yeah.” You unhelpfully echo, but Lucas glares at you. “Sorry.”
He tries again. “There are things we can’t tell you, alright? For your own safety.”
“Lucas,” you warn, scared he’ll say too much, but Max just gets angrier. 
“My own safety?”
“Yes!” 
“Because I’m a girl?”
Well, that’s certainly one way to look at it.
Lucas scoffs. “What? No!”
You step in between the kids. “Alright, no. That’s not it at all and this conversation will just keep going in circles.”
Max ignores you. “Did you keep secrets from El?”
You and Lucas share a look, and then, at the same time, ask, “How do you know about El?”
“Did you?” She presses, but she’s looking more at you now than Lucas. She’s expecting you to take her side, to tell the boys to be nice to her and let her into the party, but the scar on your upper arm burns and your ankle faintly throbs. Those wounds will never fully go away; you’ll carry them with you your entire life.
You know how shitty it feels to be left out, but you also know how shitty the nightmares are as well. Max can never be brought into the Upside Down. Not when she has the chance to live a happy and normal life, free from any danger and turmoil. 
“That was different,” you tell Max, trying to be as gentle as possible. “I really, really wish I could explain, but I can’t. It’s for your own good. If I could’ve prevented the party from going through what they have, I would’ve. But I couldn’t, and it haunts me every day.”
Max stares at you, and you admire how much spunk she has in her. You can see her thinking about what you’ve said, analyzing your words for any lies or deception, and you know she’s spent years doing this on her own. Your heart breaks for her.
Billy’s anger flashes in your mind. Max is an intelligent girl, but you know he’s the reason why.
When she can’t find any lies in your words, she just sighs and shakes her head. “You know what? Forget it. Okay? I don’t want to be in your stupid party anyway. I’m out. Have a nice life.”
Lucas stands there for a moment, processing what’s just happened. “Max!”
“You still stink, by the way.” She calls back, and you step back a bit from Lucas. 
“Not to make this worse, but she’s right.”
Lucas glares at you but then sniffs his jacket, cringing with repulsion. “Oh, shit!” 
He throws his hands up in the air and starts walking back towards the school. You don’t follow for a second, instead you watch as Max skates down towards the parking lot, where Billy is waiting. He has his arms spread against his car, and he seems to have noticed you long before you noticed him. 
Billy’s eyes pierce yours and you shudder. There’s a hatred in his eyes that you’ve never seen before, unlike anything else. Again, your heart breaks for Max. You can’t imagine having an older brother like him.
You force yourself to turn around and join Lucas up ahead. Gross, sleazy men are the least of your concerns right now. 
But then Lucas turns and makes eye contact with Billy before you can warn him not to. “Why is that guy glaring at us?”
You shove Lucas to keep walking. You don’t at all like the disdain in Billy’s eyes. “I poured milk all over his shirt today. Keep moving.”
The boy trips over a rock. “You what?”
“Long story, can we please just go inside and find Dustin? I need to talk to him.”
Lucas sighs, knowing that what he’s about to say will only anger you more. “I can’t find Dustin either. We were supposed to meet by our lockers after school to keep looking for Dart.”
You stop walking. “And he didn’t show?”
“Nope.”
“I’m going to kill him.” You know exactly where your brother is: at home hiding Dart and trying to figure out what to do with him. 
Lucas senses you know something. “Y/N, what did he do?”
“Nothing!” You cover for Dustin quickly, because he’s your idiotic brother whose problems are also somehow yours. You’ll always have his back, but you also hate lying to Lucas. “He just probably had to head home immediately. Our mom has guests over.”
“Guests?”
“Yeah! Totally unexpected, I know, but you know how our mom is.” You start speed walking towards the bike rack. You need to head home. Now. 
Lucas doesn’t believe you. “Y/N–” 
“I’m sorry about Max, by the way!” You call as you run towards your bike. “Talk to her! Obviously don’t mention the… Stuff, but just know if it doesn’t work then it’s for the best! We have to keep her safe!” You’re rambling as you unlock your bike and hop on. 
Lucas is not far behind you. “Are you seriously giving me girl advice as you’re running away from me to go cover for Dustin?”
“Yes. Bye, Lucas!” 
He lets out a frustrated groan and calls after you, but you kick up your kickstand and immediately pedal away, leaving him in the dust. You feel bad, you do. Lucas is one of your favorites to interact with, he’s always been the most rational, but right now you have to go make sure your brother doesn’t burn down this entire town.
You’ll bake Lucas brownies later. 
– 
“Dustin Henderson, you’re so dead!” You slam the front door, sweaty and out of breath from your frantic bike ride.
“Y/N! What’s going on?” Your mother clutches her chest, obviously frightened by your sudden entrance. 
You quickly walk towards Dustin’s closed door. “Everything’s fine, just sibling stuff.”
“Oh, well have you seen Mews?”
The door is locked. Of course the fucker locked the door. You start pounding on it. “Dustin, let me in before I radio all your friends.” Then, you call to your mother in the living room. “And no, I haven’t seen Mews, mom.”
You hear her sigh and mutter to herself where Mews could be, and you figure you’ll help her look after your idiot of a brother lets you into the room. 
Again you pound against the door. “Dustin, I swear to god–”
The door swings open and a hand grabs your shirt and flings you inside, before promptly slamming the door behind you. Once you’re inside, Dustin turns to you, worried. “We have a problem.”
“Damn right we have a problem, where the hell have you been–” There, behind Dustin, is his turtle’s tank, completely shattered. Bile rises to your throat. “Please tell me Yurtle suddenly got super strong.”
Dustin walks over to the tank and holds up what looks like slimy plastic. “So, I kept Dart.”
“Dustin–”
“And he grew. A lot. This is his old skin.” He throws it back down. Then, backing away from you a bit, he admits, “I also can’t find him.”
It takes everything within you not to strangle the kid right then and there. You start pacing the room, mumbling to yourself, “I’m a good sister, I’m a good sister, I’m a good sister.”
“Y/N, I’m sorry, alright? I just, I got excited and Dart likes me and–”
A loud growl cuts your brother off. In a heartbeat, he’s back by your side, clutching your shirt in fear. Instinctively, you pull him behind you and reach for your switchblade that you always keep in your pocket now. After everything that’s happened, you find comfort in having the weapon always close to you. 
Slowly, you and Dustin start walking towards where the growl came from. Your hand never leaves his back, ready to push him out the door in case anything happens. There’s horrible grunting noises coming from the corner of his room. As you walk closer, you see a trail of dark red scattered across the carpet and his chair.
It’s blood. 
The realization makes your breath hitch. 
The grunting gets louder as you approach the chair, and then, slowly, you peek behind it. There, you’re met with a gruesome sight.
Dart is eating Mews.
He's bigger than he was yesterday. Way bigger. Dangerously bigger.
You scream, unable to help it, and Dustin quickly covers your mouth so that you don’t alert your mother. The sound seems to alert Dart, however, and he raises his head from Mews’ stomach, covered in blood, and lets out a horrific screech. 
Its mouth opens the same way the monster’s did at Jonathan’s last year, the same monster that had almost killed you and your friends. The sight paralyzes you in fear as the memories come crashing back from that night. The scar on your arm burns again. Your ankle twings in pain, and you feel sick. 
Your cat is dead. 
And Dustin has been hiding a fucking baby demogorgon in your home. 
-
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