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nd-of-a-manatee · 1 year

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Brambles pt. 1

Pls read this for context first

[ID:

(This description is a text adaptation of a comic. Some descriptions have been tailored to fit the change in medium.)

It’s night.

The Motherlobe looms black in the dark blue sky among the trees in the quarry of Psychonauts HQ. The center window of the brain-shaped building is illuminated with pale yellow light. Inside that window, the silhouettes of Truman Zanotto–the Grand head of the Psychonauts–and an unknown female figure argue with each other as word bubbles clutter the space above them. Far below, Lili Zanotto (in her early teens) escapes the building out a side entrance and hops across hovering platforms over the lake at the bottom of the quarry. She’s wearing a blue sweater, black pants, red and white sneakers, and her brown hair tied in long low pigtails.

She steps off the last platform onto a grassy rock formation. The top of the formation used to be where her secret garden grew. It’s now empty, with a hole in the ground where the willow tree used to be. Lili hops easily past the site and uses a squiggle of levitation to clear a gap in the boulders that structure the hillside.

Lili walks on through the forest alone, hands in pockets. Giant moonlit pine trees and bushes surround her as she makes her way along an unclear path. When she reaches her destination, she looks ahead with weary irritation. Her reddish eyeshadow is purple in the low light, making her look even more tired. She has a new garden–filled with many varieties of plants, sectioned by a hedge down the center, surrounded by smooth stones, and crowned with three willows of varying height that huddle beneath a cluster of vertical cylindrical rocks that push together as if to cradle them. The whole place is covered in ropey green thorny weeds.

“Ugh. Again?” she groans.

She starts trying to pull the vines away from a nearby flowering shrub, but they’re stubborn and bite her through her fingerless black gloves. Her sixth sense suddenly gets her attention (represented with magenta lines that emanate from her head). She turns around and sees a rail-thin figure posed atop one of the stone stacks, backlit against the half moon hanging in the sky behind it. The figure is boyish and short with awkwardly long legs, upside down with one hand supporting it, the other behind his back, and both legs straight up in the air. A familiar brown helmet and red goggles make its head look bigger than it should be.

Lili, smiling, responds with telepathy.

<Hey, tree-sitter. What’re you doing here?>

Her friend and partner, Razputin, lifts his head and looks down at her through all the red hair sticking out of his helmet. He responds warmly through orange psychic waves.

<Psh. I bet the whole county heard it,> Lili adds huffily. She glances away at nothing in particular.

<Definitely could from Sasha’s lab,> Raz admits.

<What were you doing in the lab this late at night?> she asks, crossing her arms.

<Why? The moon’s still there during the day.>

Lili can’t help smiling again.

<Mind if I come down?> Raz asks.

Raz lists forward and effortlessly flips his way down the steep stone slope, landing all clean and professional in the grass at the bottom. His outfit is easier to see up close. Mint-green long-sleeve, light brown pants. The cuffs of both disappear into gray-green gloves and black and white hightop shoes. Lili gives him a single clap, and they get to work.

Both of them generate giant telekinesis hands composed of psychic energy in their respective colors. Raz selects a cluster of vines and yanks as hard as he can with his big TK hand. The vines react violently, twisting on their own so fast that the hand snaps into a cloud of scattering orange remains, complete with a “CHOMP” sound.

“Can’t we psi-blast them off?” Raz asks aloud.

“No way.” Lili doesn’t take her eyes off of the mess she’s concentrating on. Two fingers are pressed to her temple. “I’ve been so busy with missions and my mom visiting that I’ve hardly watered anything. I’d burn these stupid weeds off myself if the whole garden wouldn’t go up with them. I need my watering can, but I can’t get to it under all this.”

“Have you got any hedge clippers?”

“Yeah, they’re with the watering can.”

Raz thinks, forming a thought bubble that expands into a hand with a pair of hedge shears. He presses in on the weeds with a devilish grin.

Lili has wound up on the other side of the dividing hedge as the two of them move further into the garden. Green nettles and chunks of rope fly up from the other side while Lili tears strands of weeds apart with her TK hands. It’s a little easier, since hers wear gloves.

“So, about earlier…,” Raz begins gingerly. “Are you okay?”

Lili doesn’t break stride, but her eyes drag the ground.

“I’ve been worse. I just… I think I really screwed up this time.”

“What happened?”

Lili flashes back to earlier that evening, inside the Motherlobe. Everything is rendered in vague magenta shapes. Lili stood before a cork board covered in papers, pointing things out to the female figure from before as her father stood by. The woman’s arms were crossed stiffly. Her frame was broad and imposing. She was taller than the others in the room. Truman’s hands were clasped limply behind his back.

“Everything was going fine,” Lili continues. “I was showing mom all the cool stuff we’ve been doing and how safe the cadet missions are. She seemed, like, actually impressed for a second.”

The figure of Lili’s mother put the knuckles of her hand to her mouth. She had long hair that fell over her shoulders and a frizzy topknot that resembled a flame or firework. Her chin dipped in consideration.

“So, when are you coming back East with me?” her mother asked.

“Uh, I dunno. Things have been really busy.” Lili hadn’t had a better answer.

“Lili, be careful you’re not letting the Psychonauts get in the way of the real world.” The woman turned her intense blue gaze on Truman, who didn’t meet her eyes. “And family.”

“Why’d she look at your dad?” Raz asks in the present, poking his head over the hedge.

“Well, my dad may be really good at his job as Grand Head, but he didn’t used to be good at being, y’know, my dad,” Lili explains as casually as she can manage.

“Oh…” Raz sinks down behind the hedge as he thinks about that. “I guess Truman does hold the record for the most field hours. And office hours. And overtime hours. That probably wouldn’t leave time for much else.”

End ID]

#brambles 1 #psychonauts fancomic #lili zanotto #razputin aquato

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whumpqin · 3 years

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Clean-Up Duty

Finally, a new chapter for Elisha! I originally intended this to be a lighter chapter for poor Elisha but honestly it didn’t go that way. Whoops.

Taglist: @faewhump @galaxywhump @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @insanitywishes @burtlederp @whumpasaurus101 (if you would like to be added let me know!)

CW: Whumper POV, creepy/intimate whumper, pet whump, major dehumanization, dehumanizing thoughts/language, monster whumpee, painful horn filing, passing out from pain, pinned to the floor, collars, noncon touching, mentions of self harm (via the horns), being mean to someone with a stutter, conditioning, brainwashing, manipulation, begging, crying, reference to eye whump, blood, muzzling, brief torture mention, humiliation. If there’s anything I left out just let me know!

Word count: 2,458

“Fucking… stay still, mutt!” Jeremiah spat.

He drew the file along Caleb’s horn roughly, feeling how he jerked and whined. His tail thrummed against the floor in a panicked tune, hitting the wall, the chain link that kept him tied to the wall, and Jeremiah’s back. Even his legs, broken as they were, shifted and moved in the struggle.

It was with a sigh that Jeremiah adjusted how he was straddling Caleb’s back, feeling the Cambion’s arms as he pinned them more efficiently. How did he get stuck grinding his horns down?

Partly, it had something to do with the bad habits that Caleb had picked up over the past few months since his escape attempt. He started to grind his horns against the stone of the basement, and while Jeremiah didn’t understand what sort of sick pleasure that he got from doing it, Caleb’s horns had been flattened on each side into a point from doing it too much. Considering how it could have been used as a weapon, they simply couldn’t have that. Now it was his job to make sure that they were dulled down and ‘made pretty’, as Aridai put it.

Jeremiah pinned Caleb’s head to the floor, grinding bits of his horn into it. Caleb’s fangs parted in a shrill whine when the file was drug along his horns, chest heaving as he sobbed freely. He’d started crying the moment Jeremiah announced what he was doing, and it didn’t seem like the Cambion had any intention of stopping. Not that he really cared whether or not Caleb was nervous about being caught - he rather liked the noises his pet was making. It wasn’t like he could get the stupid devil to actually understand why he was doing this right now anyways.

His hands rounded and dulled the tip of the keratin growth, listening to the sound of Caleb’s teeth as he snapped at Jeremiah, despite not really being near any skin to latch onto. Biting was another bad habit of his now, snapping at his Masters when they tried to do something to him. Aridai alone had been subject to multiple nips here and there, though they assured Jeremiah that Caleb immediately regretted it, and they had muzzled him until he learned better. Jeremiah however, unlike his partner, was well aware you had to treat Cambion much like snakes; grab them by the back of the head and don’t let go until you were good and ready to. Such tactics worked rather well in this sort of setting.

Again, it wasn’t like Caleb actually knew what was going on beyond his instincts. Jeremiah could tell from the panicked, unfocused look in his eye that he was only doing what came natural. Not that the idea that his pet would try to hurt him made him any less upset.

God he hated doing this. He just wanted to read his book.

“It’s your fault this is even happening, Caleb,” Jeremiah hissed above his stupid whining and the sound of the file against his horns. “I don’t even fucking get why this is such a fucking problem. Just sit the fuck still and stop wasting my time.”

Caleb’s breath hitched, squirming the arms that Jeremiah had pinned underneath his legs. He let out a low whine, terrified and seemingly in pain. Jeremiah’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t say anything. The Cambion hadn’t done anything too contrary to his rules, and he liked it when Caleb was scared of him. It gave him more control.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Jeremiah paused a moment to allow him to speak, but it was obvious that Caleb was too stupid to realize he’d been prompted. Instead he sobbed, chest bobbing up and down, jerking every time the file was drawn across his horn. Jeremiah gritted his teeth, pressing the Cambion’s head against the cement of the basement. “I asked you a question, Caleb. If you’re going to act like a whining puppy you better beg like one.”

“I’m-I’m s-so-sorry, sorry! Pl-plea-please, Sir, please, nnk, it-it hurts! It hurts,” he cried, spitting and sputtering his words like he always did. Jeremiah’s lip curled in annoyance.

“I’m sure a dog can speak better than you. Can’t you fucking calm down for a moment? I’m not even doing anything to you.” He watched as Caleb panted, fangs bared in a warning for what would happen if he drew too close. Then they gritted, snapping together without any words, wanting to say something. He sighed. “Speak.”

“My, my, my horns, it hurts-” he cut himself off in a cry of pain, tears flowing freely from his eyes. “It hurts s-s-so-so bad, Sir, I c-can-can’t, I can’t- help, help me, pl-please…”

Jeremiah felt Caleb’s tail flick, hit his ankle, and coil tightly around it. It worried at his skin as it moved, gripping tightly to mitigate the pain he was feeling. Which was, in Jeremiah’s opinion, a bit strange. Cambion didn't feel their horns, they were like goats, or something - it was all just dead skin and didn’t have any nerves.

Out of curiosity, Jeremiah paused.

The relief was instant. Caleb still cried, but he seemed to finally take in a deep breath, his chest heaving as if he’d run a marathon. Jeremiah felt his tail relax and slip off of his ankle. It was almost ridiculous; had that been the problem the whole time? He just thought Caleb was scared because he got hurt. Had he known he might have tied Caleb up so this wouldn’t have been an issue.

“Th-thank, thank you, Sir,” Caleb breathed, practically going limp in Jeremiah’s hands.

Huh.

It became rather apparent he was going to have to switch tactics. Jeremiah slid his hand from Caleb’s hair into his hair, gently petting him to get him to calm down.

“I need you to be still for me. Can you be good and do what I ask?” He tried his best to keep his voice soft, like how Aridai spoke to make him more pliable from time to time, but Jeremiah couldn’t stop the weariness from seeping out of him.

Caleb swallowed thickly, oblivious, and nodded. “Y-yes, yes, Sir, but, but it-it hu-hurts-”

“Shh. I know. But if you stay still for me it’ll be over much more quickly.” Jeremiah was light in how he touched Caleb’s horns, relishing in how the Cambion shuddered in anticipation from the feeling. Caleb nodded again, but remained quiet. “Don’t fight it,” Jeremiah murmured.

As the file pressed against Caleb’s horn, he could feel him try to resist writhing, wanting to be good for him. Even so, he couldn’t stop the whines and whimpers that fell from his mouth, the incessant snapping of his sharp teeth meant as a warning, as the pressure increased on his horns.

However it only took a few moments of filing before Caleb jerked again, eye rolling in sheer agony. Jeremiah couldn’t tear his gaze away from the sight of it, even if it was more bothersome. Eventually, he did drag his eyes away long enough to focus on filing, but he couldn’t help it when his grip became rougher and dragged across the surface of the horn.

Meanwhile, Caleb’s whines eventually broke to screams and sobs.

Screaming, and screaming-

Until finally he went limp, passed out from the pain.

Jeremiah finished up dulling Caleb’s horns. They’d gotten much longer since he’d last done this, jutting forward and then nearly halfway curled around his head, but the last time wasn’t nearly as excruciating as this.

When he was done, he huffed out another sigh. “You’re such a fucking hassle,” Jeremiah muttered, ruffling the Cambion’s hair to get out the bits of horn that had fallen into it. He tilted Caleb’s head to the side to get another look at his bandaged eye while he was thinking about it, noting the blood seeping out from behind it and mixing with the pet’s tears. Damn it.

He drew the box of items he had brought down with him, placing the file back into it. He took out the extra bandages and clippers he had left in there, setting them in the space between Caleb’s shoulder blades to hold them still for a moment.

Jeremiah drew off the bandage covering Caleb’s missing eye. He tried hard not to peer into the empty socket, nor remember the bloody sight of when it was removed, or even what Aridai planned to do with it despite his protests.

Right now, it’s sitting in a jar in the kitchen while they figure out how to preserve it properly. It made it difficult to eat there.

He placed the bandages over Caleb’s eye quickly and tied it towards the back. Jeremiah was less careful about keeping the knot away from his hair this time; if Caleb wasn’t going to keep himself from bleeding then he wasn’t going to waste his time trying to be nice. Instead, he just focused on washing off the blood that had stained on Caleb’s face and simply left it at that.

Jeremiah had to move a bit to get to Caleb’s claws - which he still had no idea how they kept getting sharp, considering he’d dulled them down far too many times to count - in order to clip them down again. It only took a bit of extra effort since Cambion claws were stronger than a human nail, but he managed. After that, he dropped the clippers back into the box and got the muzzle.

Caleb wasn’t allowed to be around either of them without his muzzle on. He liked to bite a little too much, and Aridai wanted it on at all times, for the most part. Jeremiah wanted to keep it off despite the risks. He liked hearing Caleb’s voice sometimes, even if he continuously stuttered. When he was able to speak straight his voice was soft and gentle, never rising above a distant call.

Jeremiah shook his head out of that thought. He was getting distracted.

He straightened the leather of the muzzle before curling fingers around one of Caleb’s horns, drawing him up from his resting position. Caleb unconsciously tensed at the feeling, tail once again finding and curling around Jeremiah’s ankle a little tighter as he stirred. His eye fluttered open, and the faded pupil of his black colored eye darted around to understand what was happening.

“Shh, stay still, boy,” he murmured gently, as if he were talking to a spooked dog. Jeremiah heard him swallow audibly, but remained still. “Good, that’s it…”

He slipped the muzzle over Caleb’s head and buckled it quickly, firmly locking those fangs of his behind the leather where it wouldn’t hurt anyone. Jeremiah finally let go of him, pulling away to sit against the wall and relax for a moment. He watched Caleb like he was one of those freshly released animals in a new zoo enclosure, confusedly looking around to see what was different or what was done to them.

The Cambion shifted, moving his arms to inspect the damage done to his hands. He felt his nails against his face as his hands moved up to gently touch his horns, feeling how dull they now were. He must have been satisfied with it, somehow, considering that after the careful inspection he huffed a sigh and rested his head on the floor, angling his gaze to look back at Jeremiah. Waiting patiently.

At the moment he seemed so… gentle. A lot like how he was when they’d first met each other, though with a bit more obedience and reverence. Awkward, maybe embarrassed, like when he had gently corrected the amount of cash he was supposed to be paying when Jeremiah hadn’t really cared whether a few cents were tallied correctly or not. Though, Jeremiah much preferred having Caleb here, with him, when he had all those nice bruises and cuts on him and a leather collar that wrapped around his throat and chained him to the wall. He preferred having things that couldn’t get away from him, and Caleb was no different.

It made him much prettier, he supposed. If that’s the proper word he could use to describe Caleb.

He reached into the box and recovered the book he had put in it, then patted his lap. “Come over here, Caleb.”

A simple offer, though not so simply followed. Caleb struggled to lift himself up off of the ground, and his animal-like legs offered no assistance. But he did as he was told, even if he had to crawl, until he was somewhat draped across Jeremiah’s lap.

“Good boy,” Jeremiah praised, running his hands through his hair. He let his fingers graze against Caleb’s horns, drifting over them with featherlight touches that made his pet’s breathing quicken. His pet stayed perfectly still, allowing him to touch what he pleased, only twitching when his hand encompassed one of the dull tips of his horns. “Shh, you’re being a very good boy right now. We wouldn’t want to ruin that.” He felt the tips much like Caleb did. “This wasn’t so bad once you stayed still, was it?

Caleb’s eye fell downwards, searching for the answer. It always took him a little bit of time to think now, and Jeremiah was quite alright with that. He didn’t want a pet that thought, he just wanted one that would listen to him perfectly.

He hummed, pleased, when Caleb shook his head to agree with him. “No, I didn’t think so.” Jeremiah’s fingers drifted downwards, tracing the Cambion’s jawline, down to his neck, and thumbed across the leather collar around it. “You really are handsome like this, despite the eye.”

A faint blush worked itself over Caleb’s cheeks, or from what little he could see, anyway. Embarrassment, humiliation, a bit of grief, then acceptance, all flashed in his expression. His head lowered, resting on Jeremiah’s thigh and hiding his face in the fabric of his pants. His hands curled up with him, tangling their fingers into the lower hem of Jeremiah’s shirt. Jeremiah couldn’t help a chuckle as he ruffled Caleb’s hair.

“You blush too easily,” he stated, voice lowered to be soft. “Get some rest while you can, pet. I doubt Aridai will be nice after how deeply you bit their arm yesterday.”

Caleb heaved a sigh, knowing. He leaned into the hand that brushed against his head, making adjustments so that he could rest more comfortably, draping himself over Jeremiah like he was a pleased cat.

He watched Caleb breath for a moment, in, then out, then back in, relaxed in the momentary peace that he had allowed him.

Perfectly obedient like how he was supposed to be, now that he knew there was no escape.

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deputyrhysiepieces · 6 years

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can u make owen grady x reader when after a fight she gives him silent treatment and he try everything to have her attention again pls? thank you x

and

Can you write an owen fix where the reader fights with/ fist fights claire because she’s being too touchy with owen. Taking place during JP:FK?

A/N: I decided to combine these two requests since I was having trouble writing the first one. I forgot much of what happened in JP:FK and I just love Claire so I changed things a bit. Sorry Anon! Hope you still like it!

It was surprising that Y/N and Owen have lasted this long with how stubborn they both were. Fights between them were like World War Three. It’s not that Owen was quick to lose his temper, he usually just brandished sarcastic jabs when they argued about an issue. It was Y/N who was quick to turn volatile, instead brandishing unbridled feminine rage. Two Alphas in one household was a bomb waiting to go off.

“Y/N, Claire and I just have that kind of relationship. She wasn’t flirting with me!” Owen unconsciously stood in a wide stance, using his alpha tone that she hated so much. Y/N didn’t back down, maintaining direct eye contact.

“So if I just go and grab some other dude’s dick you’ll be okay with that?” Owen rolled his eyes.

“That is not what she did. You’re making something out of nothing.” He grabbed his beer and took a long swig.

“You know how uncomfortable it makes me when she touches you like that. Why do you let her do that?” “Baby, just because your jealous does not mean you have to take it out on me. You know it wasn’t my fault. God,” He shakes his head exasperated. “You gonna start pissing on my furniture now?”

Her face burned with anger as she struggled to find words. He laughed at her scrunched up expression, making her scream in frustration before walking out the door.

“I hear it’s a good way to mark your territory!”

...

This is how she ended up sleeping in her car. Not that she could actually sleep with how uncomfortable the seats were. Just before their usual bedtime Owen came out of the house, taking one look at her through the window and shaking his head. When he tried the doors it was no surprise they were locked.

“C’mon, Y/N. Just come to bed.” She didn’t answer, keeping her back to him so he wouldn’t see her cry. She thanked whatever God was looking out for her when it started to pour. Owen swore. “You know what? Fine!”

She didn’t feel like a winner when she heard the door to their bungalow slam.

…

Y/N ended up arriving at work three hours early. She used the public restroom to brush her teeth with her finger, straighten out her hair, and change into an emergency pair of clothes she had in her car. No one questioned her unkempt appearance after getting a glance at her expression. It was pretty obvious what had happened when they heard Owen swearing at his raptors more than usual.

After work her heart filled with dread when she saw Owen in the drivers seat of her car. She got in on the passengers side and slammed the door, immediately putting her headphones in. Next to her Owen shifted awkwardly, uncharacteristically nervous.

“So, uh. How was your day?” He got nothing but silence as a response. “Oh okay, You’re ignoring me. That’s fine. Jokes on you, you’ve been complaining about one of those headphones not workin’ so I know you gotta listen to me.” He heard the music come through one side and frowned. She was trying her best to tune him out.

“Hey, that’s not good for your hearing.” Owen’s jaw clenched when she continued to ignore him, making him worry. “Y/N seriously you’re gonna damage your damn hearing with that nonsense you listen to.”

He saw a pair of nail clippers among gumwrappers in the cupholders. He promptly slammed on breaks in the middle of the dirt road to their bungalow. With one hand he reached over and cut the cord to her head phones.

“The hell?” She cried, glaring at him with a shock filled expression.

“Yeah, well I told you what was gonna happen.” Owen spoke to her as one would a child. He began to drive again.

“No you- ugh!” Y/N yanked on the door handle, ripping the lock up when it wouldn’t open.

“No you don’t.” He locked the door again from his side. “Listen, we are gonna talk about this-”

She started rolling down the window, thrusting her body through as soon as there was an opening.

“Hey!” A muscular arm wrapped around her waist just before she got halfway out. Even though she persistently wiggled against him he was able to hold her until they reached home. “Jesus what the hell is wrong with you?”

Y/N crossed her arms, refusing to look at him.

“We are not leaving this car until we solve this. I’m sorry that my friendship with Claire upsets you. But that is all it is.”

“I know!” Her sudden aggression startles him.

“Then why are you taking this out on me?”

“Because I don’t want to lose you! And I know I can be a bitch sometimes. I know you can find someone better. Someone that gets you. I know.” She huffed as she caught her breath.

“Hey, eyes on me.” Owen uttered in a soft yet firm tone he knew she loved. When she reluctantly met his gaze he was startled by the tears in her eyes. “You are all I want. Many girls, and I mean many, have been in my bungalow.” She rolled her eyes. “But you’re the first to live in it.”

Y/N knew he wasn’t one for apologizing but appreciated the effort.

“I’m sorry I got mad at you for Claire’s actions. I know it wasn’t your fault.”

“I’m sorry I made you feel like you had to jump out of a moving vehicle instead of talking to me. Even though that’s your crazy, I’ll take the blame for it” She gave him a sheepish smile before crossing over the console. He leaned back in order to make room for her to straddle his lap.

She curled up to his chest, grateful to have contact with him after being without it. He stroked her hair and sighed.

“How about we go inside and get you cleaned up? Your breath stinks.”

Just for that Y/N kissed him.

…

She didn’t expect to see mud tracked all through the bungalow once she entered.

“Oh this? This is your fault. You nearly ran me over this morning.”

“Huh?”

“You think I’d let you sleep out there alone? I don’t like the way Mark from IT looks at you.” The sudden confession touched her. Maybe she didn’t need to worry about someone stealing him away.

“Who’s jealous now.”

#Owen grady imagine #Owen Grady x reader #owen grady #Jurassic world imagines

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planetsam · 6 years

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if you're so inclined, anything with steve and kali pls.

“Woah woah woah, you can’t do that!”

Kali catches his eye in the mirror. She has a handful of clips in her mouth, her hair pulled to one side and a can of hairspray in her hand. She blinks at him, but whereas Eleven will keep asking, Kali’s face hardens slightly, like this is a challenge. An affront.

“Do what?” She asks.

“Raid my bathroom without asking.”

She’s too surprised to look cool about it and Steve feels himself bristle. It’s definitely Dustin’s fault, he should be more pissed about that than he is. Something completely mischievous sparks in her eyes and Steve tries not to picture that manifesting in a psychic attack of some kind.

“Steve,” she says, honey dripping from her voice, “can I borrow your hairspray? I’m all out.”

“I’m gonna kill that little shit,” Steve says, turning around only to find himself in the bathroom. He closes his eyes and shakes his head, he was walking away. He was walking away. He opens his eyes to find Kali right in front of him, “you can’t–”

“Please can I borrow your hairspray?” She presses, “my hair’s a complete disaster.”

Steve knows he was a shitty boyfriend, but he recognizes the trap when he sees it. Having a 5 foot tall, perpetually–but justifiably–furious living breathing weapon in his house is hard enough. Having her pout up at him and still not reach his shoulder when she’s on her tip toes is so much worse. He opens his mouth to try and instruct her in something useful. Practical. He should write a book about how humans are supposed to treat each other. Also ask Mike and Hopper about how they say no to Eleven, because it’s really hard.

“Sure,” he says, “if you can tell me whose on the can.”

Kali frowns and turns it over, looking at the blonde before rolling her eyes.

“Farrah Fawcett,” she says, “I haven’t been living under a rock, you know.”

He does know, okay. Because whatever badassery he thinks he has, it’s kind of put to shame by the idea of a kid around El’s age running around assembling gangs and living in warehouses. Psychic powers or no, it’s rough. He blinks and she’s gone, or rather she’s back in the bathroom, holding back half her hair with one hand, the barrettes are already back in her mouth. When one side is sprayed to her liking, she pins it up with the barrette’s and picks up the electric shaver.

“No, no way,” That’s where he’s drawing the line, “you are not shaving your head in my bathroom.”

“Okay, I’m not,” she says rolling her eyes. He yanks the thing from the wall, “it’s only half!”

“You are not shaving half your head in my bathroom! What’s next? You gonna give yourself a tattoo?”

“Don’t tempt me!” she roars back, “I’ll pierce your dick while I’m at it.”

“Thank you for that image,” he snaps, “do not do what you’re about to do,” he adds quickly when she opens her mouth. That is the last image he needs in his head, “this is—of all the things—“

She sighs loudly as he mutters, grabbing a neatly folded hand towel and draping it over her shoulders, clipping it with a barrette. He turns her head to the side and she raises an eyebrow as he plugs the clippers back in. Normally he would back off, but if she’s going to invade his hair products then fair is fair after all. Also he doesn’t get a graphic image of his dick getting pierced so that’s kind of permission. She watches him like a wounded animal though, ready to take his head off at the first misstep.

“Buzzed,” she orders, “I don’t want to be bald.”

“Then who would use my hairspray?” he says and guides the clippers along her hair.

She holds herself perfectly still but keeps her eyes laser focused on him. He resolutely ignores her gaze, focusing instead on what he’s doing. He’s not brilliant, he knows that. School’s never exactly been his strongest suit. He’s good with his hands though. And not just in that way, in other ways too. Point is he can work the clippers fine, carefully trimming the half-buzz cut Kali has going. He gathers up her hair and flips it on top of her head, holding it with one hand so he can do her neck but she shakes him off.

“What are you doing?” she demands.

“Finishing up,” he says. She looks at him warily, “have I given you any reason not to trust me?” he demands.

“Aside from being a white man who lives in Hawkins Indiana?” she snaps back.

“Yes!”

They both know that’s more than a valid reason for her not to trust him, given everything. And Steve wants to say he’s the kind of guy who understands, who accepts this as just a part of it. But he doesn’t and he can’t. Because he’s getting way too used to her showing up inconveniently, because every flash out of the corner of his eye makes him want to turn and find her. She’s scared and brave, angry and unsure, all these contradictions in a five foot package that seems large than life most of the time. Because the only person he’s met who can be that many things at the same time ripped his heart out. And he’s afraid of it happening again but powerless to prevent it.

“No,” she huffs, gathering up her mound of hair and putting it on her head, “I don’t like not seeing what you’re doing,” she mumbles.

“Okay,” he says and moves the party to the mirror, “better?”

She hums as he keeps her hair up, trimming the back of her neck. She watches him from the mirror which is unsettling but he keeps going. It’s the easiest part but it feels like he’s held his breath the entire time. When he’s done, his fingers brush the back of her neck under some kind of pretense but it makes her shudder and that’s almost worth it. He sets the clippers down and undoes the towel, pulling it off her over the sink. The hair still goes everywhere but that’s never really been the point. She undoes the clips, depositing them in his hand and flashes him a smile that’s equal parts honey and venom before putting the back of her hand to his forehead.

“What—what are you doing?” he rasps.

“Checking to see if you have a fever,” she says, giving him an innocent look that he doesn’t believe for a second, “your face is very red.”

“Smell of all the hairspray,” he gets out and the humor vanishes.

She grabs the can on the way out.

“I know you buy them in bulk!”

Steve vows he’s going to kill that little shit, just as soon as his legs aren’t jelly anymore.

#steve harrington #kali prasad #steve x kali #kali x steve #stali #stranger things fanfic #wtf is their ship name someone halp #stranger things fanfiction #prompts

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