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fleurrreads · 2 months

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hi hi hi! could you write something for charles leclerc x single!mom!reader? maybe her son ( or daughter or both ) both him for the first time and they're all protective over their mom, and she has to leave them alone for sometime and when she finds them they're bonding? this probably does not make sense but oh well have something to eat and some water if you haven't in the last hour! and can i be 🎧 anon, if it isn't taken already? my pronouns are she/her and i'm 18!

an: i had a lot of fun writing this one, and i think it has a special place in my heart forever ♡ i’ll add you to the list! welcome lovely 💫

You’ve been seeing Charles for about four months now. In that time you haven’t introduced him to your son — Cody, who is seven. You were worried about him meeting your boyfriends and them leaving, which would mean they also leave him behind. So none of your boyfriends have ever met Cody.

Charles knows about Cody though, and vice versa. You’re currently dressing up to go out on a date with Charles as Cody sits on your bed, little feet dangling from the side. “You look so pretty mommy. Are you going on a date today?” The little boy rubs his eyes, visibly exhausted from the day. He has a lot of energy during the day and then he winds down and passes out by nine. He’s a lot like you in that sense.

You sit down on your bed next to him, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Thank you baby. Yes I’m going on a date with Charles today. He’ll be here soon to pick me up.” You see the gears turning in his little head, and he meets your eyes. “Do you trust him?” He asks, fiddling with the hem of your dress. A nervous tick he got from you no doubt.

“Yes angel, I trust him more than anyone. Do you want to meet him and see for yourself?” The only way Cody will be less worried about you is if he met Charles and saw for himself that he was a good guy. He nods, gathering himself up and running to the living room where Scooby Doo is playing on the tv, the babysitter that you got for tonight was still on the way so you wouldn’t be able to leave before she arrived.

You hear the distinctive sound of Charles’ car coming to a stop in-front of your house when you see Cody’s head shoot up, looking through the curtain at the car that stopped in front. “Woah” You hear him softly whisper to nobody in particular. You smile , making your way towards the front door to let Charles inside.

Charles looks absolutely incredible, not too fancy and not too casual. He kisses you on the cheek, aware of the little boy now sitting on the couch looking warily at him. “Hello my love, are you nearly ready to go?” He looks at Cody, smiling at him. “Hello Cody. It’s nice to officially meet you.” he shakes the little boy’s hand.

Cody smiles softly, “It’s nice to meet you, uncle Charles.” Your heart warms at the smile on Charles’ face. You walk to the bedroom. “I’ll be back in a few minutes, I just need to finish getting ready.” You sit down at your vanity, trying to finish your makeup as fast as you can to not leave Cody with Charles too long. You know Cody isn’t always comfortable at first with people, and you don’t want him to feel like that with Charles.

In the living room Charles hunches down to Cody’s level. “What’s wrong Cody? Did I do something wrong?” He wants to make a good impression on him, because he sees you and him being together for a long time. Cody looks at him with big eyes. “Do you really like my mommy?”

Charles’ heart aches as he looks at Cody. He’s trying to protect your feelings before you can get hurt. He’s probably seen you come back from other dates either absolutely exhausted or crying.Charles realises that Cody just doesn’t want you to go through that again.

Tears are now prominent on the little boy’s waterline as Charles gives his arm a reassuring squeeze. “I love your mom. She’s an incredible woman and I’d like to spend a long time making her happy. She means a lot to me, you know. And I’d like to make you happy too. I was thinking that we could go on a drive tomorrow if you’d like. We can go get ice cream and stop by any shop you want.” Charles notices the hint of excitement in Cody’s eyes. He also sees the relief in the little boy’s face, hearing Charles speak so lovingly about his mom.

Cody grins at him, “I’d love to! Your car is really cool. Does it go really fast?” Question after question falls from the little boy’s mouth, his excitement not contained anymore. Charles chuckles, sitting down on the couch next to Cody, answering every question he’s got.

You finally emerge out of the bedroom, hair done nicely, makeup finished as you make your way to the living room where you find no Charles and no Cody. How odd. As you begin searching you hear giggles coming from the kitchen and your heart swells at the image you see as you peek around the corner.

Cody’s sitting on the counter, a pancake in his mouth, laughing at Charles who’s attempting to flip the pan expertly as to flip the pancake around. He failed miserably as the pancake misses the pan and splats on the floor. Cody laughs loudly. “You’re so silly Charlie.”

A nickname. Cody gave Charles a nickname. You feel your heart ache as you smile at them. Charles has a faint flush to his cheeks when he spots you in the hallway, a smile on your face. “What’s going on in here? Are you burning my house down, Cha?” Cody turns his head to you, still happily snacking on a pancake that didn’t fall to the floor. “We’re making pancakes! Do you want one mommy?” Cody offers you a plate with a smiley-faced pancake and you can’t help but laugh. “Sure, thank you baby.” You sit down at the counter, enjoying the moment with them.

Charles made you call the babysitter to cancel. “Why would we go anywhere else when this is where I could only dream to be.” He took your hand as you’re now sitting on the couch. Cody sitting on his other side, you see Charles holding his hand as well. Your heart swells at the image, and you realise that this was what you’d dreamed of as a little girl. A perfect family.

“We can go on a date another day this week. This moment is more important.” Charles whispers, giving you a small kiss and continuing to watch the cartoons on tv.

You realise that this is how you’d be able to spend forever. With them. With Charles.

reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! ★

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x single!mom!reader #charles leclerc x female reader #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 x reader

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formosusiniquis · 5 months

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any cosmo girl would have known

“Oh she did it for sure.”

“Steve!”

“Ten bucks, Bobert, don't give me that look last time we agreed double or nothing.”

“No,” Nancy insists. “This isn't Murder, She Wrote or Scooby-Doo or Columbo-”

“You saw who did it in Columbo at the beginning,” Eddie reminds.

“I know it's an awful show.”

Robin and Steve remain in sync enough to each get a hand on his shoulder to keep him from getting on the coffee table to defend the only good cop show in existence.

“I'm only pointing out,” she rewinds the VHS taking it back the two or three minutes they'd talked over before stopping it completely, “that this is a movie, not a drama with a repeated format that Steve can pattern recognition into predicting.”

“You haven't seen it already, right?” Robin asks. “The one rule of Monthly Middle-Aged Movie Night is you have to pick a movie none of us have seen.”

“No, I haven't seen it already. If you'll all remember when I asked you each to go see it with me I got,” he points to each of them in turn. “‘Wouldn't you rather see Tomb Raider?’ from double VHS, prestige cinephile and ‘That's too much pink for me, baby, you know I have that intolerance, maybe Rob or Nance will go?’ from my emo-isn’t-a-phase husband. And ‘I'm a little busy with this new story, Steve,’ from Nancy, the only one of you with a real excuse.”

“Some feminist you are, Birdie.”

“I don't want to hear it from you. I watched two of the blandest men alive pursue Renee Zellweger while the screen writers tried to convince us she was homely because you ‘forgot’ you had band practice.”

“You said you liked it!”

“It grew on me, but sometimes you just want to see a woman in a tank top. And I won't be shamed by the same man who cried during Beauty and the Beast.”

“I went with my sweet baby Lucy Joan, you miserable hag,” Eddie says, “and they turned that hot werewolf into a boring looking man.”

“You weren't into that? Look at who-”

“Why am I getting made fun of? Can we finish the movie?”

“No, I'm not going to let this be another Sixth Sense situation,” Nancy says, holding the remote hostage, she knows no one will try to take it from her.

“Ugh don't even bring that up,” Eddie groans, “Dustin still mentions it in at least one letter a year.”

Nancy nods, prim and proper, “Exactly, so tell us right now why you think she did it, then we'll play it again.”

“Chutney, the daughter,” Steve corrects, “have you even been paying attention? Her hair's permed.”

“And press play,” Eddie shouts.

“No,” Robin smacks his hands as he makes his ballsy play to reach around her for the remote. “Show your work, Dingus, even I didn't follow that one.”

“I don't always like the movies everyone else picks but I at least watch them. Her hair is permed, she said she was in the shower. She would have had to have been washing her hair if she didn't hear the gunshot and she has a perm.”

“You can wash your hair with a perm,” Nancy points out.

“You would know.” Eddie snarks, fingering the ends of his own hair.

“You can't wash a fresh perm, you'll fuck up the ammonium thioglycolate. Then you're out forty bucks and you've got limp hair. She killed her dad and lied about being in the shower.”

“Press play,” Eddie decrees again, leaning in close to Steve's side to purr, “it's pretty sexy when you go all hair care detective.”

His hand starts to slip below the blanket. “This is how we ended up with Lucy in the first place,” Steve reminds him, just under the sounds of the courtroom drama picking back up. It doesn’t stop Eddie’s hand from wandering until the movie’s climax starts getting closer, and Eddie’s attention is captured just like Robin’s and Nancy’s.

“Unbelievable,” Robin says, when Elle cites the perm salt.

“Never again,” Nancy swears, when Chutney screams her confession.

“Lucy’s been asking for a brother or sister,” Eddie flirts, as Elle reveals that any good Cosmo girl could have solved it.

No more movies with mysteries or twist endings for a while, they all agree, Robin can’t afford to keep betting against Steve.

#steddie #established steddie #fruity four #my fic #steve harrington #platonic stobin #this is not a modern au these are some middle aged adults now #it is 2001 and my dudes have to carefully schedule their hangouts #anyway i think steve the hair harrington would also make the elle woods solve #theyre the same flavor of autistic if were dipping into some personal hcs but thats not important #what is important is steve has the oh he did it accidentally predicts the bad guy of every movie ever nd skill #love that for him #unimportant to the narrative but lucy is definitely the steddie bio kid this is a transmasc eddie fic secretly #so anyway enjoy this barely edited ficlet i churned out in an hour

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libraryofgage · 3 months

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Addams Family B-Side Four

Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually

Debbie and Fester Addams One | Two | Three | Four (you’re here!) Rick and Evelyn O'Connell One | Two Harley Quinn One 10th Doctor and Rose One | Two (on the way!) Scooby Gang (there are plans for this one lmao, so plz be patient with me orz) Jedidiah and Octavius (from Night at the Museum) One

Here it is boys!

Actually, this part was line-jumped on Ko-Fi, which means y'all got it sooner than I originally planned lol

If you want to line jump your favorite series, you can learn more here

Anyway, we have more developments in this chapter! I hope you enjoy them 👀

A meme is at the end for your entertainment too!

As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;)

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Eddie has plans for the walk to Steve's house. He's going to compliment the bats on Steve's cropped hoodie. He's going to ask if Steve is aware he's allergic to raspberries. He's going to gently broach the subject of how Steve knows Pubert Addams.

And then, in a moment of cosmic injustice, Pubert fucking Addams is waiting with Steve at the end of the day. Eddie slows some when he sees them, his gaze lingering on Pubert as Steve offers him a thermos to drink from. He passes it back, and Steve looks like he's going to take a sip as well when Eddie calls out, "Stevie!"

Something gratifying and warm floods through him when Steve stops and looks his way. A smile tugs at his lips as Eddie hurries over, relieved to see the thermos being capped and put away. "Hope you didn't wait too long on me," Eddie says.

"We did," Pubert replies, grabbing Steve's hand and dragging him away.

Eddie frowns and catches up. "Why are you here?" he asks.

"Pubert and I walk together," Steve says, easily slipping his hand from Pubert's grip and moving to walk closer to Eddie. Their shoulders brush, Eddie gets another whiff of that cookies and cream scent, and Pubert glares. It's perfect. "Because we live next door to each other."

Eddie blinks, frowning slightly. Before he can say anything, Pubert smirks. "That's right," he says, pulling a cigar from his pocket. "We've known each other all our lives."

He strikes a match against his palm and lights the cigar, passing the match to Steve. When he takes it, Steve just lets the flame burn. Eddie watches as it gets dangerously close to Steve's fingertips, and without thinking, he licks his thumb and forefinger and pinches the flame to put it out.

Steve glances at him, a smile tugging at his lips. "Our parents are r--"

"Rather close," Pubert says, cutting Steve off and making Eddie's eye twitch at how rude it was. "In fact, Steve's parents specially requested I look after him at school."

"Oh," Eddie says, "you're the babysitter."

Pubert blinks and then frowns, looking upset that Eddie isn't more visibly jealous. That's good. That means Eddie is managing to hide his seething anger and envy well.

"So," Eddie says, deciding to steer the conversation away from Pubert. If he does it right, he can even ice him out entirely. "Why'd you transfer here, Stevie?"

"I caused irreparable emotional, psychological, and physical damage to students at my old school," Steve replies, finally passing the burnt match back to Pubert. He smiles lightly and adds, "That's what the police report says, anyway."

Eddie hums softly. "And, uh, why did you do that?"

"They wouldn't go to a museum with me."

"Sounds like they were just dumb, then."

That earns him a bright smile as Steve and Pubert stop outside a two-story home with fountains and cherub statues and an immaculate green lawn. It's surrounded by a white picket fence, the kind Eddie thought only existed in movies and 1950s nuclear family propaganda. Next to this house is a Gothic manor, for lack of a better description. It's dark, jagged, and seems to have clouds hanging over its rusted wrought iron fence.

"This is us," Steve says, gesturing to the Barbie Dreamhouse. "I'll see you tomorrow, Pubert."

With that, Steve grabs Eddie's hand and quickly pulls him through the fence's gate like they can't get inside fast enough. By the time Eddie has blinked, a large door is shutting behind him and he's standing in a foyer. "I'm home!" Steve calls, pulling off his shoes and gesturing for Eddie to do the same.

As he's wobbling to stay balanced while tugging one of his boots off, footsteps echo from the kitchen and a man's voice replies, "Welcome home, Steve!"

Eddie gets his first boot off and looks up as the owner of the voice steps into the foyer. The only thing that keeps him from dropping his shoe at the sight of the man is the unwavering desire to make a good impression on Steve and his parents.

"Father," Steve says, waving the man closer. "This is Eddie. We're going to be working on a project together. Eddie, this is my father, Fester."

Eddie sets his boot down and nods, taking the hand Fester offers. His skin is cold and clammy, probably corpse-like if Eddie had to guess, but he shakes with enthusiasm. Literally. The man's body is practically buzzing. "Great to finally meet you! Welcome to our home. Please make yourself comfortable. We'd love to have you for dinner."

"I thought we were having pot roast," Steve says.

"The oven is big enough for both."

It's a normal enough greeting and joking exchange that Eddie relaxes. He can see some of Steve's energy in Fester, the same wild glint in his eyes, and a similarly overwhelming gaze. Though, it puts him a little on edge when it's coming from Fester. Still. The same.

"Thanks. I, uh, I'll have to check about dinner, I guess, but I'll let you know." Fester drops his hand as he speaks, and Eddie hurries to take off his other boot.

"Of course," Fester says, nodding once. "You two go work. Just scream if you need anything."

"We will," Steve replies, waving for Eddie to follow him up a grand staircase. Literally. Eddie can't think of any other way to describe the marble steps with a polished railing and gilded edges. The whole thing looks like someone from HGTV should be waltzing through a doorway to describe the exact shade of paint they used.

He takes as much of it in as he can, eyes wide as Steve leads him to a balcony that overlooks the foyer. There are only two doors here, both of them across from each other, and Steve leads him to the one on the right. It's painted a soft yellow that reminds Eddie of ducklings.

"Oh," Eddie says, his voice soft and his eyes wide as he realizes just how rich Steve's family is.

The room is practically the size of Eddie's home and sectioned off into different areas. Against the back wall is a dramatic four-poster king-sized bed with one of those gauzy curtains hanging from the ceiling above it. The wall behind it is covered with flowering vines that crawl up and reach outward from behind the bed. A tiny three-step staircase to the left of it leads to what Eddie assumes is the bathroom, considering the edge of a sink that he can see through the crack in the door. To the right is a doorway that leads to a balcony, and Eddie can see a small set of porch furniture through the glass.

To Eddie's immediate left is a whole corner dedicated to a grand piano. Not a mini one, but a full-sized grand piano and its bench. A bookcase pushed against the wall next to it is filled with books of sheet music. To his immediate right is a large work table. Papers are scattered across it, and Eddie wouldn't think anything was wrong if not for the wall of weaponry directly above it. Swords, maces, a few tasers, two spears, and one trident, among others, are carefully arranged on hooks and display pins.

Suddenly, Eddie thinks about that mace Steve pulled out when they first met. He'd told himself that Steve couldn't possibly have been serious about using it, but now he's starting to second guess that assumption.

"Where do you work best?" Steve asks, pulling Eddie from his thoughts about the weaponry wall.

"Oh, uh, on the floor," he says.

Steve smiles and leads Eddie over to the glass balcony doors, sitting directly in a ray of sunshine that makes his hair glow and creates a halo effect. Eddie nervously wipes his palms on his jeans before sitting across from Steve, marveling at how plush the carpet is.

"What did you think of my idea in class?" Steve asks, glancing at Eddie before pulling notebooks and pens out of his bag.

It takes a few seconds for Eddie's brain to catch up. "I like it," he says, hesitating for a moment before asking, "Do you actually find it interesting, though? I mean...you don't really..."

"Look like I know anything about heavy metal?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I think the genre is given a little too much credit for converting people to Satanism. I mean, it's just discounting the work put in by others, you know? As a genre, though, it's pretty revolutionary, right? Like, it was doing and saying stuff nobody had heard before when it first made an appearance."

The more Eddie listens, the more excited he gets. Not only is Steve gorgeous and wild and unpredictable, he also knows a little about heavy metal and doesn't just write it off as unintelligible noise.

"How much of a history lesson are you prepared for, big boy?" Eddie asks, unable to help his grin as he leans forward.

Steve imitates his lean, his own smile a little softer. Eddie misses the way it becomes just a tiny bit smug when he glances down to see Steve's top hanging forward enough to see his chest. He's just about to do something incredibly stupid when Steve says, "As much as you're willing to give me."

Eddie blinks and looks back up, searching Steve's eyes for a few seconds. He doesn't seem sarcastic. In fact, he seems happy to listen to Eddie describe the genre, which only makes his already monumental crush grow three sizes.

--------

Eddie's heavy metal history lesson takes the better part of an hour to get through, and Steve spends the entire time slowly inching his way closer. He crosses the space between them as Eddie describes foundational bands and concept albums and the branching off of heavy metal from the rock 'n' roll genre tree.

By the time Eddie starts to lose steam, his eyes still bright and his face red from barely breathing the entire time, their knees are pressed together, Steve is happily leaning closer to occupy more of his space, and Eddie's hand had gravitated to Steve's calf without permission.

Steve smiles, happily filing away for later the bands Eddie mentioned and the albums he particularly liked. "So," he says, his voice soft but easily getting Eddie's attention, "sounds like we know everything for our presentation."

"You got the perfect partner for this project, sweetheart."

His grin widens, and Steve hums softly, leaning a little closer. This seems like a perfect chance to put one of his mother's lessons into action: ambiguously hint at more but don't follow through. "I'm not doing much work, though," he says, placing his hand on Eddie's knee.

Eddie squirms slightly, glancing down at Steve's hand before looking back up, a blush crawling along his cheeks and reaching for his ears. "You can, uh, design it. Yeah. Design the presentation."

"Is that really all I could do?"

Steve can see the moment Eddie registers his meaning, his eyes widening and the blush officially spreading to his ears and down his neck. He opens his mouth, glances away, and seems to blurt out the first thing he can think of to change the subject. "So, uh, w-what's with the weapons?"

"Doesn't everyone have a weapons wall?"

"Yeah, no. Uh, that might just be you, Stevie."

Steve tilts his head, humming softly as he glances at his weapons. "They're weapons I've won fights with," he says, looking back at Eddie with a bright smile. "I'm the best fighter in the family."

"Oh. Cool. And, who were you...fighting?"

"My cousins. Wednesday is the best opponent. She fights dirty. Pugsley isn't much of a fighter, really. What is much faster than me, but they always trip over their hair. I haven't won against Uncle Gomez just yet, but he has years of practice on me. Aunt Tish says it's just a matter of time, anyway. The trident, though, that was a bar mitzvah gift."

"You're Jewish?"

"On my mother's side."

"Oh," Eddie says, glancing at the wall again. His eyes linger on the trident for a moment before he asks, "And what about your dad's side?"

"I'm an Addams."

"An....Addams?"

Steve knows he's just killed Pubert's fun, but he doesn't care. He wants to see what Eddie looks like when he's angry. He wants to see what Eddie looks like when he's angry for and about Steve. "Fester Addams," he says, "Harrington is just a name of a family friend on my mom's side. She thought it sounded nicer."

Eddie's brain is visibly chugging along, turning this information over until his eyes spark with anger and frustration, his hand on Steve's calf tightening without him realizing. "And Pubert?" he asks, his voice low and more of a growl than anything else.

It sends an excited shiver down Steve's spine, and he suddenly knows Eddie can be mean and vicious and merciless if Steve only nurtured those tendencies with very positive reinforcement. "Pubert's great with explosives, but he's not good at close range fights. He doesn't even protect his kidneys. They're so easy to stab," Steve replies.

"Well, if it's that easy," Eddie mutters.

His words send a thrill down Steve's spine, and he can't help leaning into his space. He places his hands on Eddie's thighs for balance, far above the knee, and only stops when their noses are almost brushing. "I could hold him down for you," he offers, hearing Eddie gulp at their proximity.

"I, uh, might take you up on that," Eddie whispers, glancing down at Steve's mouth and staring at it.

Steve waits a few seconds, but Eddie doesn't do anything more. He internally sighs, lamenting the lack of initiative but happy that he gets to keep teasing, and leans back. "Well, just let me know," he says, his voice light as he shifts out of Eddie's reach.

He picks up his notebook, flipping it open to a blank page, and looks up. Eddie is staring at him like he's just seen Heaven only for the gates to close on him. He looks desperate but confused, and Steve decides it's a very cute look on him. "So, do you want to hear my ideas for the presentation?" he asks, flashing an innocent smile that pulls Eddie back to the present.

"Yeah. Sure. Explain away," Eddie says, his voice a little strained. Pride swells in Steve's chest at having caused the strain, and he pretends not to notice Eddie's attempts to subtly inch closer as he outlines design ideas.

When Eddie is finally close enough for their shoulders to touch, Steve rewards his initiative by leaning against him.

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Tag List (there's no more room on the list, so please follow the addams family b-side tag to see updates!)

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@zaddipax, @dycte, @breealtair, @geekymagicalpotato, @janea-grill, @juliasthename-adhdismygame, @yikes-a-bee, @wayward-people, @st-fics, @disrespectedgoatman, @bipusssy, @cottagecorebutnaturescaresme, @nightowl14028018, @that-binchh, @your-confused-friend, @irethsune, @goosesister, @strawberryyyenthusiast, @irregular-child, @theverywest

@jinx-nanami, @solene1324, @nailbatwielder, @y4r3luv, @happylittletrees3, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @itcanbepalped,

And now, two more memes because they're both funny

#steddie #steddie fic #addams family b side #addams steve harrington #steve harrington #eddie munson #pubert addams #fester addams #addams family crossover #my writing

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glossglamour · 20 days

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Full Robert Sean Leonard 'House'-a-palooza Interview: "As we know, I’m straight, but yeah, it’s like, homina homina homina."

May 01 2006 | By Maureen Ryan

Do you watch the show much?

"I can't watch it. I mean, Hugh doesn't watch it because he's anal and … eight years old. [laughs] And by the way, I don’t buy it, I think he does watch it.

“I watched in the first year. We live in New York and [my fiancé] was in California] and she likes it because I’m on it. But then she left, she had to come back to New York, and what are you going to do? The idea of me watching myself on TV, alone in Santa Monica, was just about... just short of, like, a bottle of Maker’s Mark and a shotgun away from shooting myself. [much laughter] So I haven’t watched it all season. But when I have watched it, I’ve been mildly confused and Hugh is appropriately grumpy."

I have this theory that a lot of my favorite shows aren’t even about what they’re supposed to be about -- they have to be set in a hospital or police station or outer space or whatever because the network can market that, but they’re secretly not even about that. Like, “House” is really about ethics and morality.

“Yeah, sure, I think that’s true.”

But you can’t pitch that show to the network. “Hey, we have this great show that examines personal morality!"

“‘It’s based on “A View from the Bridge.”’

Right! They’re really going to for that.

“Yeah. [laughs] I think it’s good, and when it’s right, when the show works, the mystery works. It has a Sherlock Holmes-ian feel to it, and you do kind of want to know what’s wrong with [the patients]. And it is interesting, the turns and twists that get you there. And there’s always a little bit of character-driven fun stuff in between, of who these people are and how they affect each other. And that’s it at its best. And I guess that could be true of any show.

“It’s tricky, you’ve got a lead character [who’s different from the TV norm] and you’ve got to be careful because those characters can be one-note. He’s the cranky guy, he’s the Australian guy, I’m the friend in one or two scenes a week. You just have to be careful, and I think we are, we have a really great team of writers. And the numbers are building, people are watching.”

So this two-parter on May 2 and 3, I think the unofficial subtitle is the “Festival of Foreman.” I guess they’re his Emmy episodes, and that’s fine. But you’re hardly in them, what’s up with that?

“Honestly, I’m okay. I don’t want an Emmy. This is what I want -- I know exactly what I want. I did play with a guy named Skip Sudduth, ‘The Iceman Cometh,’ seven years ago. I saw him five years later, and I said, ‘Geez, Skip, where have you been? I don’t see you at readings anymore.’ He said, ‘I’ve been on “Third Watch.”’ It sounded familiar but I’d never seen it. He said, ‘I’ve been doing it for five years.’ I said, ‘Holy crap!’ And he was back doing theater. That’s my dream.

“And it’s happening. I walk down the street and people say, ‘Where are you?’ and I say, ‘I’m on this show called “House.”’ My friend Lewis Black [from 'The Daily Show'] said, ‘What is it called? “Head”?’

“I’m okay. I’ve never been happier than where my career is now. And I don’t want it to change necessarily. Money’s good, and I’m glad I’m getting that, and I’m putting it away for later in life when I do more Tom Stoppard plays at Lincoln Center and make no money. But really, I’m great. I don’t mind working two days a week.

“Because those other guys, the Scooby gang, or the Mod Squad -- they are at that studio for 16 hours a day saying ‘tachycardia, lupus, blablahdeblah.’ Honestly, I’d kill myself if had to do those scenes for that long. I’m very happy with the size of my role, I don’t want it to get any bigger. I’m happy.”

So we won’t see the very special “House” episode where Dr. Wilson almost dies?

“That might be how I get off the show.” [laughs]

Well, you could die and come back as a ghost. Then it would be the “House Whisperer.”

“Yeah [laughs]. The hair makeup people were saying one day, ‘Oh, I love those scenes with you and Hugh, there should be more of that.’ And I’m like, ‘Shhh! Don’t say that!’ I’m the luckiest man in Hollywood. I work only with Hugh, pretty much, who’s great. And I work two days a week.”

Do you fly back and forth to New York then?

"No, not really. They don’t let me because they need me around, the schedule changes so much. I’m going to try to get away with that a little more [in the upcoming season]. Now that [my fiancé] is here, I really will kill myself if I’m out there as much as I was last year, without her.”

So five days a week you’re doing what – Botox injections? Going to the mall? Watching “Maury”?

“Rob Lowe once said the secret to being an actor in L.A. is sleeping as late as you possibly can and going to be as early as possible. I remember him saying, ‘I recommend pajamas by 4:30 p.m.’”

What’s interesting about this show is that they’re taken something that could be a very formulaic procedural and quite often turn it on its head.

“I didn’t know anything about TV, I’d never done [a TV show], but I now know very well that there are procedurals and character-driven shows. ‘Law & Order’ is a procedural and ‘Grey’s Anatomy’ is a character-driven show. The test [as to which category a show is in], someone once said to me, which I thought was hysterical, is this question: Did Sam Waterston sleep with [the assistant DA] on ‘Law & Order’? If the answer is ‘I don’t give a [hoot], I want to know the next element of the case,’ then it’s a procedural.

“Our show is weirdly, and there must be precedent for this, but it’s weirdly equally both. I think it’s very much a procedural, and without that sick patient every week, we wouldn’t work. And without the character stuff it wouldn’t work. And weirdly, people do care if House sleeps with one of our characters, and also care equally what’s wrong with this person and how they’re going to solve the case.”

I guess I like the character stuff better, but you’re right, it probably wouldn’t work without the suspense of the weekly case and somebody being critically ill.

“No, I think you need that. I think the echoes of Sherlock Holmes are too strong. The original idea of the show was House and Wilson, like Holmes and Watson. But it got away from that, and his team is Watson, if you want to be technical about it.

“I’m more like … the only way I’ve found to define it, and it’s so pretentious that it makes me want to jump out a window, is like King Lear’s fool. I’m like the only one who tells him the truth. And [Wilson] has nothing to lose. I don’t work for him and he doesn’t work for me. I’m the only character who chooses to be with him as opposed to being there because of a job. And because of that I have the freedom to tell him what I think. Not that Cuddy holds back much.”

I think her role is to say, "No! Bad House!"

“Have you talked to Lisa Edelstein [who plays Cuddy]? She’s so great. This Japanese woman once said to her, ‘You on “ER”!’ And she said, ‘I have been on “ER,” but now I’m on “House.”’ And [the woman says] ‘Oh yes, “House.” You say, “No, you don’t!”’ Every time we do the table read, I burst into laughter at some point, because there is the voice of that woman in my head, ‘You say “No, you don’t!”’ That’s the entire definition of Lisa’s character. Not completely, but we laugh [about it]. We have the same dilemma. We’re on this show that we’re … kind of on. Crew members say, ‘How long have you been on the show?’ ‘Uh, since the pilot.’ They really don’t know what we’re doing there.”

So in terms of the other stuff going on in your career, that’s going well, all the theater stuff?

“I’ve achieved everything I wanted to do. When I was growing up, I wanted to be Kevin Kline, Sam Waterston. I grew up watching the Public Theater and Shakespeare in the park and Marion Seldes. I mean, I may as well be gay.”

I’m not entirely sure you’re not.

[laughs] “But the thing is, I got it [i.e. his goals]. I’ve done 14 Broadway shows and got a Tony award, and now I’m making money and no one even really knows. I’m getting away with murder. If I come back to New York in two years and nothing’s changed, I’ll be thrilled. All I really want to do is [act in] plays, play with my dog, have kids. My desires are pretty simple. I don’t really want to do movies anymore. I’m pretty tired of camera acting.”

Why are you tired of camera acting? Is it the repetition of it?

“No, no, quite the opposite. We don’t rehearse enough. We do scenes where people barely know their lines, where people just about know their lines. In theater, you do it so many times and you get so familiar that then you can actually start having fun with it. And I really miss that feeling.

“It’s true of films too. I don’t know. I think I’m fine on film, but … I have walked offstage and thought, ‘Wow, no one has done that better. People may have done it as well, but not better.' I’ve actually had that feeling after ‘Long Day’s Journey Into Night,’ or a Shaw play or whatever. I’ve never felt that way with film. I always feel like, ‘Boy, Donald Sutherland would have done that a lot better.’ [laughs] I just don’t think it’s what I do best. I think I’m fine, but there are people who are eerily good at it. In all humility, of which I have none [laughs], that’s how I feel about my work on stage. I really do feel that I’m gifted at it.”

Just to change gears completely, what happens in the finale?

“Well, I think the finale is a bit of a cliffhanger. Something very exciting happens. It’s extremely exciting and freaky and I think it’s great. I can’t say what it is. You end this season very curious about how the next season is going to start. It’s a great final show and a big cliffhanger.”

So it seems like Hugh Laurie is so disparaging of his own talents. But he’s so good as House.

“Some people ask me, ‘Oh, why does Wilson want to hang out with House so much?’ and I’m like, ‘You idiot.’ [laughs] House is designed to be attractive! He’s brilliant, he’s self-deprecating, he has a limp. But yeah, Hugh hates himself and he’s very funny about it. There’s no better combination in my book. Like Lewis Black.”

But as an acting partner, he’s good to work with?

“Oh yeah. The thing is, with this part, Hugh has a huge obstacle he has to deal with, having an American accent. His problem isn’t our problem. We as the audience don’t have that problem, because what he doesn’t know is that he does it perfectly. But of course he doesn’t hear that. That’s why he can’t watch the show.

“When you’re doing an accent, you don’t feel like you’re interesting in the role. Even if everyone around is telling you that you are. And to be in a play is one thing, but to be on TV show that runs for years, I don’t know how he’s going to do it. To be that hard on yourself and be that disappointed in your own work. But as I said, and underline this four times, he’s wrong.”

And then he obviously hates when anyone calls him a sex symbol. You read his quotes when people ask him about that stuff and you can feel the embarrassment rising off the page.

“Yeah, he hates that stuff. And even more than the ‘sexy’ stuff, he hates the ‘you’re brilliant’ stuff. Of course there’s a part of him that likes him, there’s a part of all of us that likes that. [But him being hard on his performance], it’s not false vanity.

“I think Hugh does work he’s proud of and does work he thinks is good, I’m just not sure it’ll ever be this [show]. Having an accent… acting is letting go and forgetting yourself, it’s the opposite of ego. It’s flying away and getting away from yourself and forgetting. And when you’re doing an accent, it’s virtually impossible to do that.

“It’s hard when you're in a play, doing the same lines, the same way for eight months. Hugh learns 72 new lines a day and has to put an American accent on them. It really is an actor’s nightmare. I’ve done [with accents] Brian Friel plays, Martin Sherman plays, Tom Stoppard plays, and maybe five months into it you have a night where you kind of feel OK and kind of forget the accent and let go and let the scene happen. To have a strange accent in your mouth while playing a role, and then be judged for it, that’s hard stuff.

“And can I tell you, when you have dinner with Hugh Laurie [speaking in his real accent]… I miss that voice.”

Yeah. He called me once directly for an interview. I was expecting the publicist to put him through, but it was just that voice on the phone. I was sort of thrown for a minute.

“As we know, I’m straight, but yeah, it’s like, homina homina homina.” [laughs]

---- [source (part 2)] | part 1 | part 3 ---

it took me two hours to track this interview down. it might be the longest one he's ever done. first i tracked it down to tumblr pages posting about it with no source please stop doing that. then i found a short youtube video of laurie saying "homina homina" on an snl skit i think and someone in the comments mentioned the site where the rsl interview was posted. however the site wouldn't let me in, i guess they took it down so i headed to archive dot org. i didn't have a specific link though so that didn't really work out either. then for nearly an hour i tried a wide range of word combinations on google until i stumbled upon a livejournal page of rpf hugh laurie/rsl fanfic. SOMEONE tysm karaokegal posted the exact link i was looking for in the comments. quick trip to the wayback machine and here you go!

i should be on those ethical hacking competition things

#house md #hatecrimes md #gg.txt #robert sean leonard #rsl #interview #source hunting success #hugh laurie #james wilson #gregory house #i nearly went insane #trying to find this thing #part 3 is an interview w katie jacobs #part 1 is general quotes #muted

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idkwhatimdoinghere1655 · 6 months

Text

Apples and Pumpkins - Lando Norris

warnings - not proof read

Lando loved Halloween for a few different reasons. He found it fun, he loved dressing up with you, and he missed out on it a lot when he was a kid due to karting, so he was glad that he got to experience it with you.

"Lando, I'm sure it's really not that bad!" You called into your bedroom, since all you could hear was Lando complaining about his costume. Every year, you both dressed up in matching costumes, but he wasn't sounding overly zealous about what he was this year.

You had suggested many ideas to him, but he wasn't feeling some of your favourites. You wanted to go as Fred and Daphne from Scooby Doo, but he didn't want to wear the wig, that also discounted Traditional Barbie and Beach Ken.

You also liked the sound of going as a Disney Princess, and he could be your prince, but he said it was 'too basic'. In the end, you had settled on Mario and Peach, since you got to be a princess and Lando just had to stick a fake moustache on with dungarees.

"But you look good, I look shit!" he shouted back, but you still hadn't seen what he looked like. "Please just come out," you said, crossing your arms and leaning against the wall. You had been stood there for a while, and he refused to come out.

"Please," you asked again, and you heard some shuffling coming from the other side of the room. You saw Lando, trudging over to you with a pout on his face. You had to choke back a laugh as you took in the outfit.

The Mario costume he had bought off the internet clearly didn't fit him as the fabric hung off his figure, and his hat pretty much covered his eyes. The moustache was the only thing that seemed to be working, until half of it fell off and it was dangling against his top lip.

"Please don't laugh..." he mumbled as you held a hand over your mouth to shield the amused smile that was forming on your lips. "It's really not that bad," you muttered, your voice slightly breaking in a chuckle.

"Look me in the eyes and tell me it's not that bad," he said, his eyes meeting yours. You took a deep breath, trying to muster all of the composure you could before speaking. "It's not that-" you started, when his moustache fully fell off and fluttered to the floor.

You lost all sense of equanimity, a high-pitched giggle escaping your lips as Lando sighed. "Right, I'll go put on a suit, you go and get one of your nice dresses on and I know you have a tiara lying around somewhere, and we'll go as a prince and princess," he huffed.

"No, baby, no, c'mere," you softly smiled, taking his hand and leading him to the bathroom. You had picked his moustache up on the way, and were now rummaging through your make-up bag. Applying some of the lash glue to his moustache, you stuck it to him and were sure it would stay there until you had to find a way to get it off later.

"Problem one, solved," you told him, before getting started on the next task. You pulled a small box of safety pins out of the bag, and pulled together some of the fabric of the straps on his dungarees to pull them up a bit.

It already made his costume look miles better, and you could tell that Lando thought so too. "Better?" you asked, hoping it would bring him some form of contention.

"Yeah, loads," you nodded, a small grin forming across his face as he looked at himself in the mirror. "Thank you, baby," he said, pulling you close to him and kissing you gently on the forehead. "No problem, you ready to go?" you smiled.

"Yeah," he nodded, taking your hand and walking out onto the streets. There were loads of people out, mainly kids with their parents going trick-or-treating. Lando and you were off to Max Fewtrell's for some Halloween games.

There was never any decent prizes, but you always had fun when you played. You were there within ten minutes, just waltzing into his apartment like you always did. "Max? Get your ass out here!" Lando shouted.

"I'm here-" he started, but his face dropped when he saw yours and Lando's costumes. Max was basically wearing the same thing as Lando, but in green. It was slightly ironic, since they were like brothers, but they both looked far from impressed.

"You just had to copy me, didn't you Lando?" Max rolled his eyes as he crossed his arms, looking at his curly haired friend. "We have been planning this for weeks! I bet you only figured yours out yesterday," Lando pouted.

"I did not!" Max countered, looking genuinely offended, but you could see that there was a hint of levity in his voice. "You two, it's fine. Now we're all matching," you laughed as both of their heads snapped towards you. "But baby, we look great. Max looks average at best," Lando whined.

"Get over it, we are matching now, and there is nothing we can do," you said, flicking him on the nose as he let out a pained shriek. "Hey, that hurt," he moped, rubbing his nose.

"You're too cute sometimes," you smiled, before turning back to Max. "What Halloween festivity do we have first, Max?" You asked, trying to divert attention away from the costume copy.

"First-up, we have apple bobbing. On each of the apples, I have carved a number. Whoever gets the highest number at the end, wins," he gleefully clapped, leading you through the apartment. Max quickly forgot about the short-lived costume controversy, but you could still hear Lando huffing behind you.

You walked into the bathroom, and he had filled the bathtub up and the surface of the cold water was covered in red apples. "OK, who's going first?" you excitedly asked, ready to start the fun. "We can rock paper scissors for it?" Lando piped up, a smile cracking onto his face.

"Lando, rock, paper, scissors!" Max said, throwing his hand into a fist in front of Lando. In turn, Lando set his hand out flat, in front of Max, before covering the fist. "OK, Y/N, rock, paper, scissors!" Lando smirked, adoring that he had defeated Max.

Sure, it was a small, meaningless competition, but it was a competition nonetheless. You thought you'd go for the same move, but Lando had somehow outsmarted you, winning with a pair of scissors. "I'm a gentleman, so I'll say ladies first," he sincerely smiled at you.

Without hesitation, you sunk down to your knees in front of the bathtub, tying your blonde wig behind your head to keep it from getting wet, and setting your tiara aside. "Now that is a sight I love to see," you heard Lando mutter.

Slowly, you picked up an apple out of the bath, before suddenly hurling it at him, water droplets spraying around the room. It hit him in the chest with a wet thud, so not exactly where you were aiming. "Hey! What was that for?" he whined, rubbing the damp patch on his chest.

"I heard that comment of yours, Norris," you scowled, turning back to the tub.

"Oh you're in trouble, Norris," Max sniggered, nudging Lando in the ribs with his elbow.

"You too, Fewtrell," you laughed, before submerging your face into the water. The cold of the liquid on your face made you want to open your mouth and take a breath, but you quickly realised that would end in disaster.

You took some time, before your teeth sunk into the flesh of one of the apples. You pulled your face out, opening your eyes to see Lando filming the ordeal. "Really?" you sighed, taking the apple out of your mouth.

"It's just for me," he smirked, shooting you a sly wink. You rolled your eyes at him, turning the apple over. You couldn't help but frown, as you saw a number two scratched into the bottom. "Well that's disappointing," you said, standing and showing them the apple.

Lando went next, pulling out a four, so not much better. As if by magic, Max came out with a perfect ten. You and Lando exchange a dubious glance, automatically thinking something fishy was up. Before your next turn, Lando dipped his hand into the water and swished it around.

The apples bumped against each other and the sides as they floated around in the waves he was creating, and you watched Max's eyes slightly widen. You smirked, dipping your head back into the water. The coolness was still a slight shock, but you found your next apple a lot easier this time.

Your teeth sunk into it with a satisfying crunch as bubbles floated to the top of the water. "And that is a perfect ten," you laughed as you turned the apple over. Max plastered a smile onto his face, but you could tell it was false.

Lando went, producing an eight this time. It wasn't enough to win, but it was still good. Max wasn't looking too zealous anymore, but both you and Lando knew that. As Max bent over to retrieve his final apple, Lando spread his hand across the back of his head and dunked him all the way in.

When he came back up for a panicked gasp of air, Max was staring daggers at Lando. "Are you trying to drown me?" he asked, picking up another apple and throwing it at him.

"What is it with you two and throwing wet apples at me?" he joked, swiping the apple up off the floor and reading the number as one. "Cheaters don't win, Max. But you already knew that," you teased, as Max's cheeks flushed red. "I don't know what you're talking about," he stuttered.

"I just thought you looked a bit... Surprised when we mixed the apples up," Lando added, cocking an eyebrow at his friend. "Like I said, I don't know what you're talking about," he giggled, scampering out of the bathroom.

"Next up, we have pumpkin carving!" he collared, quickly skirting around the topic of him cheating. He didn't win anyway, so it wasn't really a huge deal. You thought it was funny that he tried it on with the two of you, though.

The dining room table was decorated with some faux-autumn leaves, some little tea light candles, and three huge pumpkins. There were also a few, smaller pumpkins dotted around for the extra autumnal feel. "Y/N, since you won-"

"Barely," Lando interjected, and you whacked him playfully in the shoulder.

"You get five minutes extra, and we have 15 minutes each. First though, we can draw on our designs before we have to start slicing chunks out of our pumpkins," Max wiggled his arm towards the three pumpkins on the table, and you selected the one in the middle so that no fights would break out.

"Max, I want to know what you're doing beforehand, just so you don't copy me again," Lando teased, sitting down to your left as Max sat down to your right. "Oh you'll know what it is as soon as you see it," Max smirked, taking the lid off his pen with a click.

"And so will you," Lando smugly retorted, setting off to work on his pumpkin. You also set to work on your pumpkin, but you were taking more care with yours than the other two were. You had drawn on your face, and the other two were still furiously scribbling on theirs.

You had made it easy enough to carve, but also complex enough that it would look impressive once the lights were inside. "Y/N, you now have 20 minutes to gut and carve your pumpkin, off you go," Max announced as you got stuck in.

You pulled the top off, sinking your hand in and scooping out handfuls of the seeds and flesh that was in the pumpkin. It felt like slime as you flicked it into the bowl, and it left your hands cold and slippery. But, you didn't have time to waste.

Just as you picked up your knife, Max and Lando were able to start on their pumpkins. You tried to ignore their bickering as they hurled empty insults at each other over your head. You were too busy concentrating on making your pumpkin look perfect.

The boys started aggressively shivving at the tough, orange flesh of their canvas. Lando had his tongue stuck out of the side of his mouth as his mind was fully centered on making his masterpiece perfect.

Disappearing into the kitchen, you reappearing with two barbeque skewers in your hands. Lando and Max skeptically looked at you, wondering what on earth you could possibly need those for. "There's a method to my madness," you smiled, sticking one into either side of the pumpkin on the diagonal.

"Can I use these?" You asked, selecting two of the similarly sized smaller pumpkins that you thought would fit what you were wanting. "Sure," Max nodded, quickly focussing back onto the strenuous and arborous task of pumpkin carving.

You stuck the pumpkins onto the skewers, and you stood back and admired your work. But, you noticed the lack of a dancing orange flame illuminating the face of an icon of childhoods for the past century.

Glancing over at the clock, you saw there was only a minute left, and Max and Lando were frantically scrambling to try and get theirs finished. The timer shrilly buzzed, and they both practically threw their knives down on the table.

Slumping down in their seats, they were glad for it to be over. Max side-eyed your pumpkin and audibly signed. "You know what? Y/N, you can't win this round. You've got to pick between ours," he huffed.

"Fine," you rolled your eyes, realising that you would have clearly won. The other two just had random holes butchered into it. "Max, yours is clearly a depiction of..." you hummed, trying to decipher what the random circles and box were.

He pointed to a small carving that he had made on the image. "Is it Lando?" you asked, after seeing the LN4 that he had clearly scribbled on in the last seconds in a poor attempt to make it recognizable. "I think I automatically win because you could tell what mine was," Max triumphantly smirked.

"Absolutely not, if you see mine I will win," Lando pouted, pushing his pumpkin in your direction. "OK, OK, I will look at yours, Lando," you agreed, your eyes scanning over the image - well, what was supposed to be an image.

"I, uhm, I-" you fumbled, trying to think of what Lando might have drawn versus what you were seeing in front of you. "Baby, c'mon," he whined, brandishing his hand towards it harder as if it would instantly make you discern what it is.

"OK, look," he said, picking the pumpkin up and holding it next to Max's head in a final attempt to make his image known. "Is it Max?" you sighed, realising what he was going for. But, it was very far off the real thing. "Yeah," he nodded, a smug smile on his face.

"I'm sorry babe, but Max's is a bit more... Realistic, true to life," you said, looking at Lando as his face dropped. "Yes!" Max cheered, running over to the couch and hopping onto the comfiest spot. "Lando, since you lost, you have to get drinks and snacks for the night," Max collared like a child.

"It's only fair," you shrugged, leaving Lando stood with his pumpkin in the middle of the kitchen floor. The three of you watched a couple of movies, while also receiving a noise complaint due to the loudness of your screams.

You thanked Max for another fun Halloween, and promised to do it at yours next year so that he wouldn't have to clean up by himself. As soon as you stepped foot outside, Lando grabbed you and slung you over his shoulder as he carried on walking.

"It's time for the princess to go back to her tower, since Mario has realised that she is disloyal and can't even let him win the pumpkin carving competition," Lando laughed, as you tried to wriggle out of his grasp.

"Ah, I'd be careful, you might fall," he tutted, tightening his grip on you as you felt like a sack of potatoes while he carried you. You didn't bother protesting, knowing he would definitely backchat you back. At least you didn't have to walk.

"Now how about we make Halloween a little more spooky?" He smirked, putting you down on your feet as he stood you against the wall. He leant into kiss you as he pinned your body with his, but you couldn't help but giggle. "I'm sorry, I can't take you seriously when you have that moustache on and that costume," you laughed, the sounds echoing around the now empty streets.

"Please just let me kiss you? Then we can go home, and I can take the moustache off and you won't find me funny anymore," he pleaded. You didn't say anything, in fear of laughing at him again. You leant in to give him what he wanted so that you could get rid of that goddamn moustache, but then you heard something.

"You OK?" Lando asked when your eyes averted to the other side of the street.

"Yeah, yeah," you nodded, sure you were just hearing things. It had sounded like footsteps, but nobody was there. Nobody was anywhere around you. You leant in again, but then there it was again. "Did you hear that?" Lando asked, instantly becoming sheepish.

"That's what I heard earlier," you said, and his face turned even more panicked. He took your hand and started to quickly walk down the street to your apartment. "Lando, it's nothing," you dismissed, eyes darting around the dark street.

"We don't know that!" he said, walking quicker to the point he was nearly running. "It's Halloween, that's when the spirits come out," he rambled, and you couldn't help but laugh. "It's true!" he protested.

"Fine, fine," you giggled behind him. Lando had never been superstitious, but you found it funny to see him so frazzled. Even if there were spirits out to get you, they were doing you a favour. You were on your way home, and you were going to get that god-awful moustache off of Lando, so you were the one winning, despite how spooked Lando was. It was spooky season, afterall.

A/N - I got this finished for today, but that doesn't mean it's any good. The Charles Special is the first thing on my to do list next time I get free time, and I am working through requests as often as I can. Sorry for all the lateness on everything, I will make it my mission to make the Christmas ones actually come out on Christmas. Same with Lando's birthday post, but that's less likely. Love you lots! 💖

|masterlist|

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apomaro-mellow · 1 year

Text

based on this

It was supposed to be a joke. A laugh. A funny story to tell later. But five questions in and things were different.

It was a normal barbecue. Everyone was there at Hopper’s cabin and generally having a great time. Good food and good company tended to guarantee that. But then someone had pulled out a home version of the Newly Wed Game. It was clearly well-used and probably missing some parts, but still playable. The most important parts were the questions anyway.

Mike, definitely not compensating for anything, adamantly exclaimed that he and El could win in a heartbeat. And because he couldn’t help his annoying little brother tendencies, challenged Nancy and Jonathan. And because Nancy couldn’t stomp down the big sister urge to put her brother in his place, she accepted. So they already had two couples but Mike got it in his head that they needed a third. He vetoed Hopper and Joyce, saying that they didn’t count as newly weds.

Lucas and Max were still figuring out what they wanted and hadn’t officially come back as a couple even though Max wasn’t actively avoiding him anymore. Dustin proclaimed he’d kick their asses if Suzie was there, but alas.

“We’ll be your thirds”, Eddie said, putting an arm around Steve’s shoulders.

“You?”, Mike’s face and voice was so incredulous and while Steve was confused as well, Mike’s offense offended him on principle.

“You’ve got two couples who are absolutely made for each other. You need an obvious dud couple”, Eddie reasoned, then winked at Steve and oh.

This was another one of those attempts at getting him back with Nancy. Because he and Eddie wouldn’t get any of the questions right, but he’d know things about Nancy and she’d know things about him. A sound plan.

If only Steve wanted Nancy back.

Steve meant to tell Eddie as such but it was hard to fight against that blind optimism.

And so the three couples sat down, with Argyle being their show host and asking the questions. The first few were easy. Steve got asked “What’s their favorite type of music?” Eddie got asked “Favorite sport?” Steve got asked “Favorite kind of weather?” Eddie got asked “Do they prefer the beach or the pool?” Steve got asked “Night in or night out?”

All easy. He knew those almost immediately. And it seemed Eddie did too by the quick way he answered. But while they were 5 for 5, Nancy and Jonathan had only gotten three and Mike and El had only gotten two. And Steve had to admit, he was at a loss for some of the answers for Nancy.

“You guys are on a roll my dudes”, Argyle said. “Next one: Crust on or off the sandwich?”

“Crusts off”, Mike answered.

El showed her response and Mike was correct.

“Crusts on”, Nancy answered.

Jonathan bit his lip. “Actually, I prefer them off.”

“Heh, yeah he does”, Argyle said. “He said crusts were crusty and it was like, profound man. Eddie?”

“Trick question, he’ll eat anything I make for him. Wontcha, big boy?”

Steve grinned. “I never turn down free food. Even when it’s one of your Scooby Doo specials.”

“His what?”, Mike asked.

“Moving on”, Argyle continued. “Your spouse can take one thing on a deserted island. What is it?”

El guessed a book, which turned out to be wrong. Jonathan replied with a gun, which turned out to be wrong. Argyle’s eyes turned to the third couple.

Steve bit his lip before answering. “My first instinct was to say his guitar, but I gotta go with a copy of Lord of the Rings.”

Argyle looked to Eddie. “Is this correct?”

“This man knows me like the back of his hand”, Eddie said, clapping Steve’s back. At some point he had forgotten his own plan and was just having fun.

“Okay, this is bullshit”, Mike finally broke. “How are you guys getting all of these right.”

Steve didn’t have an answer. And neither did Eddie. They shared a look without words and once again they came up with the same answer but neither of them wanted to admit it.

“Just admit you lost, Mike”, Nancy said.

“You lost too.”

“Second’s better than third.”

“God you’re so-”

“Hey guys! There’s more hot dogs!”, Lucas called out.

The game ended there, the other two couples going about their business. Whereas Steve and Eddie were left with the question that already had an answer. How did they know all of those things about each other?

Part 2

#apo writes #fanfiction #steddie #stranger things #also includes #mileven #and #jancy

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rustedhearts · 4 months

Text

last christmas (steve harrington x fem!reader)

summary: the return to your hometown for the holidays comes with the many ghosts of christmas pasts—including your ex-fiance, steve.

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

✶ christmas carols ✶ the library

tags: angst; hurt/comfort; reader’s parents are given names (celia/john) but no physical descriptions; reader is also given a name (lucy) because I refuse to write "y/n" but it's the same thing, still no physical descriptors; reader is a smoker because it's the 90s;

"a crowded room, friends with tired eyes, i'm hiding from you and your soul of ice. my god, i thought you were someone to rely on. me? i guess i was a shoulder to cry on,"

— last christmas, wham!

hawkins, indiana, december, 1999.

You couldn't deny—the nip of cold Indiana air was a welcome feeling after all those Californian winters. To bundle in layers of warmth and heavy fabrics, to shiver in the back of your father's sedan while he sang backup for your mother's Christmas carols: it really felt like home again.

It snowed the few days prior to your arrival, and every inch of Hawkins seemed sprinkled or covered with perfect white fluff. It'd been so long since you'd seen snow.

"I've got all your favorites stocked at the house," your mother announced from the passenger seat. "Strawberry Jell-O, Scooby Snacks—"

"Mom," you laughed. "I'm not a child anymore, you didn't have to buy all that."

She twisted around in her seat to face you. "When you're back in my house, you are a child! Let me have my fun, you haven't been home in ages."

Three years was hardly ages—but, you supposed, it was long enough. The first Christmas after you moved was too difficult to stomach back in Hawkins. The second, you were too busy with work to take even the weekend for a quick plane ride here and back. And the third, well...you still just couldn't do it. You couldn't handle seeing him again.

But this year, you decided it was enough. You had to pull your big girl pants on and buck up. It wasn't fair that your friends and family kept getting caught in the crossfire.

The car jostled through the icy driveway of your childhood home. Your father parked the car and hurried to the trunk to grab your luggage, while you slid slowly out of the backseat. Like reflex, you immediately directed your attention to the inflatable snowman bobbing on the lawn next door. The lights strung from the awnings and wrapped around the pines. The last name painted on the mailbox.

The Harringtons.

"Come on, I'll make us some tea," your mother ushered, looping her arm through yours.

Your father was close behind, crunching through the salted, icy snow mounds. You kept a close watch on the driveway next door as you approached the open garage and entered the warmth.

Luckily, there was no sign of that maroon BMW anywhere.

"So, I thought we'd go shopping at Macy's tomorrow afternoon, and then have dinner with your grandparents on Wednesday, but—"

"Celia, let her settle in first," your father interrupted, sawing into his chicken.

Your mother pursed her lips at him, but her eyes remained on you. "Oh, psh. What does she need to settle in for, she's lived here all her life! What do you think, honey, Macy's? We can grab breakfast beforehand."

You smiled at your father who passed an apologetic and knowing stare, and nodded at your mother. "Sure, Mom, that sounds fun."

After dinner, your father positioned himself at the sink, scrubbing every dish with care. He handed them to you to dry, and as he did, he watched you peek through the kitchen window toward the other side of the house.

“You think you’re gonna see him?”

You swept the dish towel over a clean dinner plate. "Who?"

Your father quirked a brow down at the soapy wine glasses. "Steve."

You barely saved your mother's delicate dinnerware. It clattered against the countertop through your fumbling hands, and once steadied, you turned to shake your head at your father, who slowed the faucet down to a trickling stream.

"N-No. No, I can't."

He held out a handful of forks. "Don't you think it's been long enough?"

"Dad..."

"All I'm saying, is...maybe you owe it to him. To yourself even. It's time to close that book for good, and you can't do that if you never speak to him again."

You plucked the towel over the fork prongs and tried to block out your father's even-toned words. He was right—he was always right. It irritated you how your parents never stopped knowing what was best. How they could always read you like a book without even trying.

But you desperately wished he wasn't right. And no matter how selfish it sounded...you just couldn't face Steve.

"I'll think about it," you managed to get out.

Your father hummed, turning the tap off. "Might be good for you, kid. Just trying to help."

You placed the forks back in their drawer. Leaning up on your tiptoes, you pressed a quick and gentle kiss to your father's cheek and smiled.

"I know. Thanks, Dad."

When the dishes had been dried and put away, and your mother was already asleep with her glasses on the edge of her nose and her magazine dangling off the couch, you tip-toed up the stairs toward your bedroom. You still knew just which steps to avoid, just which carpeted areas squeaked and groaned.

But the flash of deep red in your periphery had you halting on a croaking step. You peered through the window on your left, holding the lace drapes away to get a better view. The BMW you spent high school riding to school and football games in came to a stop behind a minivan. The driver side opened and slammed closed.

Steve Harrington in the flesh.

Bundled in a heavy, brown wool coat and carefully knotted red scarf. His hair flounced in the wind and collected snowflakes with grace. He carried a pie dish and a smile on his face. Heart in your throat, you watched him stomp through snow piles toward the other side of the car.

He opened the passenger door and greeted a redheaded woman with a kiss.

She took the pie from him, cradling it close to her expensively-adorned chest. They had matching coats. She swooped a leather-gloved hand through the front of his hair to fix a tousled wave. His lips moved in words of gratitude, and you could almost hear the octave of his voice in your head again. How he cooed when he talked to you. You could tell by the softness of his eyes, the relaxed muscles of his smile—he was doing the same to her right now.

Steve wound an arm around her waist and turned them around. He flicked his head to toss away his hair, and for a moment, you swore he looked toward your window.

You hurriedly mounted the steps and slipped into your bedroom before you could find out if that were true.

"God, Mom, my arm's about to fall off."

You waddled alongside your mother down Main Street, carrying (literally) armfuls of shopping bags. She came rushing into your room at promptly seven o'clock this morning to rouse you, throwing your drapes open and ripping off your covers. She took you to get bagels and coffee, and then scrambled into shopping mode. Macy's lasted two full hours, and you immediately felt like a teenager whining for McDonald's again when one o'clock came around and you were famished.

"Oh, quit whining," your mother huffed, adjusting her own bags on her arm. "We'll stop for lunch after this."

So, you pushed your way through another store, hitting just about everyone in your vicinity with a gift-wrapped shopping bag. You were sweating through your layers, cheeks flushed hot, and your stomach was so hollow with hunger that it felt like it would cave in. The first day back home for the holidays was truly off to a great start.

"Sorry, sorry—oh! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"So, just when the hell did you get back in town?"

Raising your eyes from the crowd of shoppers you irritated and the bags you dropped, you settled on a familiar head of shaggy raven hair and round, brown eyes.

"Eddie!"

He accepted your tackled hug with a chuckle, closing his arms carefully around your crinkling bags. The embrace lasted a beat too long before you pulled away and grinned.

"I didn't know you were comin' home this year," he said, bending to collect your abandoned bags. You strung the corded handles back over your padded arm.

"Yeah," you sighed. "Sorry, I...wasn't sure if I should..."

Eddie tucked his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket, as heavy and studded as ever. It creaked when he shrugged. "No biggie. It's awkward, I get it. Amanda would be stoked to see you, though."

"Oh, how is she? How are you—and everyone?"

The pair of you squished against a shelf of holiday candles as a bustle of angry mothers pushed through. You lost your mother somewhere in the crowd.

"She's good, everyone's...good. I mean, three years, kid...it's been a while. Don't even know where we left off."

A sheepish grin concealed a pair of warm cheeks. The tops of your ears burned under your earmuffs. God, it was embarrassing owning up to your bullshit, wasn't it? There certainly wasn't a manual for apologizing to your friends for getting lost in the crossfire of a called-off marriage.

"Yeah, I know. I just...didn't know what to say to anyone."

Eddie nodded, though his eyes avoided yours. His jacket clinked with his shifting. A ringed finger spun a candle on the shelf.

“Yeah, I get that. Well…hey, we’re all gonna be down at Deb’s on Christmas Eve for drinks. Like we used to, remember? You should come.”

A twinge of sorrow tugged in your chest. You watched Eddie teeter on the edge of hope and disappointment. He knew you’d say no. He knew you’d forget them. But how many hours over a short lifetime had you spent together as friends? How many times had Eddie picked you up when your car broke down? How many times had he come crying to you when he first met Amanda and he wasn’t sure how she felt?

How many times had you broken your friend’s heart?

Swallowing, you adjusted your bags again. “Is…is he gonna be there?”

Eddie scoffed. “Steve? Nah, he’s got…stuff.”

His eyes darted to you with wide worry, and you knew exactly just what ‘stuff’ he was referring to. The red-headed beauty with the fancy cashmere winter wear, and more grace and elegance than you ever had in your entire life. The woman who meant Steve finally moved on from you.

“Oh, right,” you mumbled. Your cheeks felt lined with sickly sweetness, stomach churning with illness. “Well…if you’re sure he won’t be there, then…maybe I’ll stop by.”

Eddie pulled off the shelf of candles and grinned.

“Yeah? Oh, man, Amanda’ll be stoked. And Robin’ll be there! She’s seein’ this girl from Indianapolis who literally drives two hours every day just to see her.” Eddie rolled his eyes, though a fond smile touched his mouth. “They’re cute, though…when they’re not mouthin’ at each other in public—nah, nah, it’ll be fine. Seriously, everyone’ll be so excited.”

You giggled, enthralled by his babbling. It was funny how much changed in three years, but how some things would always stay the same.

“I’m excited, too.” And you really were.

Sure, you made friends in L.A over the years, but none—not even your closest friend and roommate Bridget—could measure up to the ones you’d had since childhood.

The kids you grew up on the block with—the ones you suffered though puberty and high school with—could never be replaced. Being around them filled you with a certain bittersweet ache you’d never feel anywhere else.

“Alright, it’s at seven like always,” he said, tapping your arm. “See you there. And good luck with these crowds.”

You laughed at his shudder and waved your goodbye. “See you.”

As he pushed his way out, you spotted the top of your mom's head hurrying your way. She grabbed your coat sleeve and huffed when she found you.

"There you are—who was that?"

"Eddie—"

"Oh, the Munson boy! Eddie! Eddie!” She began to hop up and wave to accompany her shrill exclamation. You cringed and covered half your face to silence the stares.

“Oh, shit,” she sighed, clicking her tongue. “He’s gone. That boy was always so sweet. How’s he doing?”

You trudged after your mother as she filed through the masses, willing away the hot flash of her humiliation. “He’s good. Invited me out on Christmas Eve. Apparently they all still get together.”

Your mother fingered at a candle, assessing the vessel and smell. She hummed, glancing at you. Her basket was already half full.

“Oh…that’s nice.”

Are you going to go? lingered in her reply. You chewed on the edge of your lip and shifted your weight.

“I was thinking maybe…I’d go.”

“Oh good!“ Relief visibly flooded her. “It’s about time you spoke to him again, you know. Your father and I were just saying that the Harringtons—“

“What? Mom, no,” you huffed, jaw tightening. “Steve’s not gonna be there, I made sure of it. And you’re talking to the Harringtons? Come on, why are you always meddling?”

Your mother placed the candle back on the shelf with a heavy clunk. A mother and her young son rushed by and nudged your bags. The air in there was getting stiffer by the minute.

“They are our neighbors, Lucy, and were before you or Steve even came into the world. This hasn’t been very fair on us, you know. Did you ever think about that?”

If you thought you couldn’t breathe before, it was no match for the shallowness of your lungs now. You practically felt your color drain, the heat to your body drop to your feet.

“Well…Mom, I never said you had to stop being their friends,” you muttered, following her to another display table.

“I knew having them around would be too difficult. But I also thought that, by now, the pair of you would’ve…I don’t know…”

You plucked the lid off a candle and sniffed it absently. “Gotten back together?”

Your mother glanced at you in her periphery, pursed with hesitance. She sighed, head shaking.

“Maybe. We all thought…I mean everyone figured you were meant to be.”

You couldn’t remember the last time your chest felt this heavy. The last time your heart hurt so terribly.

Well…you could think of one.

“Yeah,” you mumbled. “I know.”

Your mother watched you a moment, twisting candle lids and plucking display glitter. She let you go on a moment longer before adjusting her shopping basket and flicking her hair out of her face.

“Alright, let’s get in line. If we’re lucky, we’ll get home by New Year’s.”

the harringtons’: christmas eve, 1994

“One more, one more!”

“No—Steve! Come on, I look terrible.”

“You look glorious, honey. C’mon, blow us a kiss.”

You threw a hand out at the camera lens, but it scarcely concealed your glowing grin. The pixelated picture of your own body blurred with Steve’s unsteady hand as he fell into laughter. He could barely keep his eye on the shutter to make sure you were in view.

“Kiss this,” you announced, and the camera panned to your denim-clad backside jutting out at him.

Steve snorted, and the whir and click of the zoom creeping in came from behind the camera. You tipped your hips from side to side to flaunt your ass, and Steve’s hand suddenly appeared to pop it. You jolted upright, whirling around to gape at him.

“Steve, we’re in your mother’s kitchen.”

“You just had your ass out!”

“I was joking—ooh, I’m telling.”

“Get that ass back here.”

Steve barely managed to place the camcorder on the kitchen counter before he tackled you. The lens caught a sliver of tangling bodies—just limbs flailing and the crackled sound of laughter. You had the hiccups. Steve was out of breath. Your sleeves were the same color—matching Christmas sweaters from Grandma Harrington, who always loved you.

When he carried you into view—arms locked tight around your middle, your legs scrunched up to your chest—the pair of you were all teeth. Just smiles and nothing else.

You were so happy.

“Hey, you two! Are we havin’ pie or what?” was a muffled call from somewhere in the house.

Steve placed you on your feet and swept two heavy palms over your tousled hair. He couldn’t take his eyes off you. Even through the grain and static of the old picture, you could see the fondness in his face. How he gazed down on you like finding sunlight for the first time.

“Yeah,” he called back, and bopped you on the nose all the same. “Be right there!”

You gnashed your teeth at him playfully, and he threw a big hand over your mouth. From the way he recoiled in amused surprise a second later, you knew you had licked him.

Pie, little did you know, was code for ring. His family had been in the living room preparing for his proposal while he distracted you with affection and baking.

And when he clicked off the camcorder and snapped the screen shut, you knew he was taking you into the other room. He’d propose in front of the tree with your entire families as witnesses. He’d give you his grandmother’s engagement ring from the 50s, polished and sized just for you. She’d give you a wink from the armchair where she was sipping tea.

His mother had wedding magazines tucked away since your first date in high school. Your father told Steve when he was fourteen years old that he “better take good care of his girl.”

You were meant to be together.

What went wrong?

“You’re positive he won’t be there?”

You fumbled with the flimsy nylon toes of your black tights, cellphone wedged between your cheek and shoulder. On the other line, Bridget munched on an egg roll noisily. You could practically picture her Chinese takeout spilled over her coffee table, the terrible movie paused on the television. It was what the pair of you would normally be doing on Christmas Eve at your shared apartment.

“That’s what Eddie said.”

“And do we trust Eddie?”

You screwed up your nose, fixing the other seam over your toes. When they were where they should be, you pressed to your feet and rushed the closet door.

“Well, yeah. He wouldn’t lie about something like that, ‘specially not since we haven’t seen each other in so long. Plus…Eddie’s not a liar.”

You pulled a black skirt from its hanger and unzipped the back. You couldn’t fit into all your old clothes left over, but a few staple pieces were squeezable. This particular black skirt was from early college days, when you and Steve were rotating parties like clockwork.

You paused as you placed it on the bed. It likely hadn’t been worn since it’s last spin on a dance floor with Steve. Or was it that date in Indianapolis, the one where he surprised you with a show at the theater?

“Hello?…Helloooo?”

Blinking out of your stupor, you looked away from the skirt and toward your mirror, picking the phone up from your shoulder. “What?”

“I said ‘people can change,’” Bridget said. “How well do you really know this Eddie nowadays?”

Fingers curling tightly around the blue plastic of your Nokia, you clenched your jaw and exhaled sharply. “I know him, Bridget. He wouldn’t do that to me.”

You wedged the phone back against your shoulder and scooped the skirt up. You wiggled it on and reached behind you to zip it. Your father was watching Die Hard on VHS in the living room at an obscene volume level. Your mother was in the kitchen rolling cookies in cinnamon and powdered sugar with her stereo on.

And here you were, primping and prepping for a night out with your old CD case splayed on your bed. It was really beginning to feel like old times, and you weren’t sure how well it settled with you.

“Well…alright. You wearin’ somethin’ hot just in case?”

You smoothed your hands over your hips in the mirror and exhaled.

“Obviously.”

You borrowed your dad’s sedan for the short trip down to Deb’s. He handed you the keys with a pointed look and a demanded promise to call if you were too drunk to drive. Your mother didn’t let you leave without a Tupperware container of freshly-baked Christmas cookies for your friends.

She looked over your outfit with curious eyes. You scurried out into the cold before she could question just why you were in your tightest black clothes for a night at the dive. The cookies sat in the passenger seat until you rolled into the parking lot, and you did your best to conceal them under your coat as you wandered inside. Nothing more pathetic than a woman bringing her own food to the bar.

The bar looked mostly the same, with little tweaks and updates that would go unnoticed by those who didn’t spend most of their youth here. But they still strung the same rainbow lights from the high beams and frosted window front. They still played a mix of tinsely Christmas tunes and whatever was most popular on the radio. Still had stale peanuts in little wooden bowls and glass ashtrays on every table.

Still kept your booth near the window where your friends used the ledge as a table.

"Hey, guys..."

"Oh my god!"

Amanda was the first to leap up and hug you, jostling the table as she sprang to her feet. Robin next, her hug much softer and tame. Though already reacquainted, you accepted Eddie's hug gratefully.

"Come sit by me, kid," he drawled, shifting down to make room.

You slid into the booth and pulled the Tupperware from your coat. "I didn't come empty handed. Courtesy of my mother, of course."

"Oh, nice," Eddie exclaimed, reaching in for a sprinkled wreath. "Mama Celia makes the best Christmas cookies."

"Bleh, don't call her that." Robin scrunched up her nose. "Oh, I'm sorry, this is my girlfriend Pam. Pam, this is our friend Lucy."

You smiled at the girl sitting beside Robin and extended your hand. "Nice to meet you."

"Lucy's visiting us from L.A," Robin continued, bringing her rum and Coke up for a sip. "For the first time in three years."

You shot her a glare, and Pam shifted a glance around the table. "Oh...that's nice."

"It's complicated," you justified.

"Not really," Robin huffed. "She was engaged to Steve for two years, kept putting off the wedding—come to find out, she leaves him at Christmas without a word to anyone. Steve's brokenhearted, Lucy's living her dream in L.A, the rest is history."

A heavy silence fell over the table. Robin slurped at her drink through a thin plastic straw. You lowered your eyes to your lap and swallowed. The radio behind the bar changed to the tooting tune of "Rockin' Around The Christmas Tree."

"Alright," Eddie interrupted, a big ringed hand coming between the table. "Can we just agree to have a good time tonight? Whatever happened...it's in the past. Can't do nothin' about it now. It's Christmas."

Flicking your eyes Robin's way, you searched for her agreement before giving yours. Pam rubbed her hand over Robin's back against the booth. Amanda kissed Eddie's cheek and squeezed his leather arm. It struck you in that moment that you were at a table full of couples.

"I'm gonna get a drink."

They served spiked eggnog in copper mugs, and you nursed one greedily to wash down the regret plaguing your every thought. You regretted what you'd done, you regretted coming out tonight, you regretted not thinking this through. Maybe you even regretted coming home for Christmas altogether.

"Is Steve really not coming?" Amanda broke the ice and uttered his name sometime around eight o'clock.

The table was littered with cookie crumbs, crumpled napkins, and empty drink glasses. Someone ordered a basket of fries and they'd been picked at savagely.

Eddie glanced at his girlfriend, and then at you. You shrugged, waving it off.

"It's fine. You can say his name."

"Uh, no." Eddie cleared his throat, adjusting his jacket that creaked with the weight. "He's...meeting Jessica's parents tonight."

Jessica. Of course. The redhead with the cashmere coat and Ann Taylor sweater. You wanted to bite off the corner of the fucking table. Everyone seemed to be waiting for your response.

And maybe it was the alcohol breathing fire into your veins, or your complete inability to stay calm and collected when you wanted to lose your shit—but you decided to bite.

"Jessica...how'd they meet?"

Amanda and Eddie winced. Eddie was the bravest of the bunch, and distracted himself with breaking a bell-shaped cookie in half as he replied.

"She's a paralegal at his dad's firm. They met last summer...it only just became serious."

Ann Taylor, cashmere, and brains. She was your worst fucking nightmare.

Swallowing tightly, you smeared a stiff smile over your mouth. "Oh. Well...that's great!"

You could only sit in the silence for a moment before you slid out of the booth and snatched at your purse on the end hook.

"I'm gonna run out and have a smoke. Be right back."

They watched you rush the front door and escape into the snow without your coat. You collapsed against the brick wall, gulping in the much-needed open air. Unlatching your purse, you scrambled through your belongings and retrieved the crumpled pack of Lucky Strikes rotting in the zippered compartment with your tampons. You hadn't touched them in weeks. An early New Year's resolution to yourself to quit smoking.

But desperate times called for desperate measures.

You lit one up with hungry need and inhaled a deep drag. It immediately soothed the itch in your lungs, but did nothing for the sting burrowing a hole in your chest.

So, he was happy. He was moving on. Did you expect him to wait for you to figure your shit out forever? Did you ever even plan on coming back to him? No. You were selfish and cruel, and you never deserved Steve anyway.

But Jessica? Really? He might as well have gone through the catalogue, closed his eyes, and pointed. She was perfect. His grandmother's engagement ring would suit her better than it ever suited you.

You were halfway through your cigarette and properly shivering when you glanced through the foggy glow of the front window toward your booth. Your stomach lurched into your throat at the sight of Steve standing over the table, pulling off Jessica's coat. She slid in beside Pam and flashed a dazzling smile.

You flung yourself back against the wall. "Fuck."

Well, you could abandon your coat inside and buy a new one. You could Irish goodbye and call your friends tomorrow. You were sure they'd understand the need for a fast getaway.

You stubbed your cigarette out on the rubber bottom of your heeled boot and flicked the butt into the snow. You straightened up and whirled around.

"Hey."

There he stood, pink-cheeked and bundled up. The handsome brown coat from the other day, a black scarf wound and knotted neatly around his neck. Flurries of snow sprinkled the top of his hair like glitter. The wind spun a whiff of his cologne toward your face. He was still so fucking pretty.

You were suddenly on the verge of tears. Standing so close to him felt like looking at the sun.

"They told me you were out here." His words came with puffs of white air. He tucked his hands into his coat pockets and pulled his shoulders back.

"Yeah," you squeaked. You cleared your throat and looked toward the snow. "Smoke break."

Steve found the cigarette sizzling in the snow and hummed. The pair of you watched it sink into a divot of white for a while. His loafers crunched over the salted sidewalk when he stepped away from the door.

"Didn't know you were home."

You licked over your lips, suddenly dry and rough from the cold. "Yeah, 'til New Year's."

"Oh," he murmured. He watched the toe of his shoes crush small balls of snow on the ground. He wouldn't move his hands from his pockets.

You pressed back against the wall again and curled your arms around yourself. You could barely feel your fingers anymore.

"She's pretty."

Steve lifted his head in your periphery. The impassive softness of his face slipped. "Don't. Don't fuckin' do that."

The anger in his words hooked inside you like a grapple. There were those tears again, pricking at your lash line. You felt like you could throw up, and out into the snow you'd spew your heart. Whole and full of punctures from the anguish in his eyes.

From all those voicemails he left on your machine that haunted your sleep. Call me back, please, baby. What did I do wrong? We can work through this, we can get through this together. Please don't leave me. Don't do this, Lucy, I love you. You're fucking crushing me.

"What, you wanted me to wait? Sit around like some lost puppy dog just waiting for you to show back up?"

He was yelling now. Tufts of white air shot from his mouth in great gusts. Every one felt like a slap.

"Fuck that. And fuck you! Who does that to a person? And after three years, you're still hiding."

You lifted your head, gazing over at him sorrowfully. "I don't know what to say, Steve."

His shoulders dropped with a sharp sigh. He pulled a hand from his pocket to wipe over his face. "Yeah, well that's a real first."

Steve kicked at the wall with the toe of his boot. Shards of snow and ice fluttered off the soles.

"Were you ever gonna marry me?"

You sniffled, rubbing at your eye to will away the tears. "You don't want me to answer that."

Steve scoffed, ripping away from the wall—and you—to step toward the street. He pushed his hair back and you watched it bounce back into place perfectly.

"Yeah, you always thought you knew what was best for me. But, you know, you never fuckin' asked...I wanted to go with you. I wanted to move, I had—you know what? Never mind."

He spun around and stomped toward the door. You pushed off the wall with another sharp sniffle.

"Steve."

He stopped. Glared at the door handle with a tight jaw.

"She really is pretty. I'm just glad you're happy."

Steve yanked the door open and tossed his head over to you. "Wanna know the best thing about her? She'll never mail me back her ring."

The bar door slammed after him. He took slow steps back toward the booth, and smiled when he saw Jessica. She received a kiss on the cheek and an arm around her shoulders.

You tore Steve Harrington apart. You'd have to live with that for the rest of your life.

Dear Steve,

In true "me" fashion, I left without saying goodbye again. You'll understand how difficult it is to sit in a house right next to yours and still function normally.

I could apologize a million times over, but it would never be enough to fix what I've done. This decision will always be the biggest regret of my entire life. But I never deserved you, Steve.

You said you wanted to move, that you had it all planned out. But I watched you wince for two years at the mention of my hope to go. I watched you cringe and pull away any time someone asked what our plans were. You never wanted to leave Hawkins, and I couldn't be the one to ask you to. I knew one day, you would've hated me for taking you away.

There are a million other things I could say, but just know this:

Any woman on the face of the Earth who's known the gift of being loved by Steve Harrington is the luckiest person in the world.

Merry Christmas, Steve.

Love,

Lucy

#rolly!#steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington angst #steve harrington hurt/comfort #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #king steve #steve stranger things #steve harrington x y/n fluff #steve harrington x you

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klausysworld · 10 months

Note

Could you do another part of my queen where the Scooby-Doo gang kidnaps y/n thinking she is just a random normal wolf that Klaus cares about like a pet, but then Bonnie finds out what she is and so they try to use her against Klaus with the help of Esther so they turn her into a human?

My Queen PT2

PT1

Since realising I was the wolf that saved him so many times a thousand years ago, Klaus had become much more eager to spend time with me. He seemed to believe he needed to take care of me, as though he owed it to me because of how I watched over him in the past.

He began to leave steaks outside my den and often tried to bring me into his house but I always refused him. He was the kind of person to not let me leave.

I was a wolf, not a pet dog.

And he became very aware of that when I bit his wrist so hard he nearly cried after he attempted to put a collar on him.

His siblings found the situation bizarre and I don’t blame them. Elijah often sighed when Niklaus tried to lure me into the house.

It seemed the Mikaelsons weren’t the only people who thought me to be a pet.

Salvatores, Gilberts, Forbes and Bennetts did too.

So much so that they had caged me and belittled me. They mocked and tormented me while I paced back and forth thinking of a way to get past. I could force my way out, break the bars and bite them all but I had so much wolves bane in my system that I probably wouldn’t get very far at all.

Besides the stupid witch was doing tests on me which weakened me by the minute and the vampires had buckets of wolfs bane mixed water ready to drown me in if I stepped out of line. Which I figured out wasn’t a bluff when I attempted to bite their precious human.

I remained as calm as I could for as long as I could. In fact I only really became more aggressive when a scarred Esther showed up with an arrogant Finn at her side.

She and Bonnie conversed and before I knew it my entire body was screaming at me in absolute agony.

It was as though my blood was on fine and burning me from the inside out, my limbs all bent the wrong ways and my spine snapped out of place.

I forced myself to my paws on shaky legs and began to bolt, I weaved past the witches. The others had left assuming it would take longer for the spell to take place.

I could hear them yelling and my teeth sunk into Finn’s leg when he lunged forward to grab me making him topple over to the ground and his in pain.

Everything hurt as I dashed through the streets alarming the locals and causing havoc and disaster as cars began to crash and people screamed. My senses were going haywire as my insides were stabbed at.

My body became off balanced as my back legs become longer than my front. I rolled forward and my paws fingers got tangled in my fur hair. My yelp sounded softer than usual and my breathing was heavier. I laid still on the ground for a moment when I saw two arms infront of me. I could feel my heart beating faster and I could feel my skin touching my skin. My fingers twitched and I lifted my hand in horror. I rolled onto my back and with far too much effort, pushed myself up with the palms of my hands.

What the fuck.

I looked down with wide eyes and my lips parted when I poked at my knees, I stretched my toes out with a look of disbelief on my face and hesitantly reached up to touch my nose. My teeth were blunt and and my snout was nonexistent and neither were my whiskers. I could hear my breathing quickening as I frantically looked at my new body.

My hair kept falling infront of my vision, it was as white as my fur but much longer and messier. I had little to no fur hair on the rest of my body making me feel weird as I slowly stood up. I grimaced at the feel of dirt and sticks against my feet, they hurt much more than when it was against my paws. I took a step forward only to return straight back to the ground due to leaning too far forward and having to push myself back up. I got onto my hands and knees before dragging myself to a nearby tree and pulling myself up.

This is not fun.

I basically hobbled through the woods, every step caused a horrible sting in the bases of my feet and the bark of the trees scratched my hands and my breasts if I got too close which hurt much more than I had thought. Thankfully the sky was getting darker so people shouldn’t be around. Stupid hikers and campers.

Thankfully only one guy saw me and he was clearly not in the right mind as he just gave me a thumbs up and walked off with a low whistle.

This would be the only time I am grateful for Klaus bringing me to his home so often because now I had memorised all of the ways there. It took way too long to get here but I made it.

I stared at the door blankly and hit my hands against it harshly making me wince as the sting that spread over my palms and pads of my fingers.

I heard a loud grumbling and a string of curses from Niklaus before the door opened making me stumble slightly as some of my weight had been against it. I fell against his chest and his arms circled me instantly.

God inside here was warm. It was absolutely fucking freezing without my fur and his body radiated heat like an open flame would.

His throat cleared but I didn’t look up at him, only stayed against him somewhat awkwardly, not really knowing what to do in this position. I heard footsteps and turned my head to see Elijah with a frown on his face

“Niklaus…why on earth are you hugging a naked girl in the middle of the night?” He asked getting nearer. His eyes locked on mine before glancing at my hair and back to my eyes again, his brows raised and he cleared his throat before turning his head and walking over out of my sight line. He returned within a second and a soft material was brought over my shoulders. I was guided away from Niklaus’s arms.

“You didn’t let anyone know that your little friend here could turn human” Elijah muttered quietly but not quietly enough apparently.

Klaus looked at me with wide eyes and an open mouth as his hand reached out in front of my face making me bare my teeth. His brows furrowed and I frowned before realising I didn’t exactly look very threatening like this.

“I wasn’t aware either” he whispered as his eyes dragged down my body making me pull the blanket around me and give him a dirty look. He blinked at me before apologising breathlessly and looking to Elijah in utter confusion.

He turned back to me with a hesitant look on his face, “my Queen…how long have you been human?” He asked, his tone almost nervous as he stared at me.

“For gods sake you two, look at her, clearly not very long” Rebekah’s voice came from my right before she was right beside me. “Come on flower, let’s get you washed and dried” she told me, her hands grabbed my arms and she pulled me along. I had not idea what to do. I didn’t know how to talk and I wasn’t able to just bite any of them. My cuts weren’t healing and I felt uncomfortable with everything about me.

My eyes widened at the stair case and my head shook quickly. “Come on, it’s okay” she tried as her hand pulled at mine, she tugged harder and my claws nails dug into her wrist and she let go with a curse. “Why you little-“

“Rebekah! Leave her be” Klaus growled before I felt his hand in my hip making me shift “it’s alright sweetheart, I’m going to lift you and take you up okay? We’ll figure this all out as soon as possible” I said nothing only stiffened and looked at him as I was carried up the stairs, one of his arms went under the back of my knees and the other against my back. I kept as still as I could until I was carefully put back down on my feet.

I looked around in confusion at the cold floors and shiny walls. My eyes widened and I stepped back when water began to blast against a big glass box.

“In you go love, into the shower” he directed while pushing me forward, the blanket was taken from me and I was under the hot water. I looked to him in slight betrayal and he gave a faint smile. I looked at him helplessly until he sighed and pushed his pants down and stepped in behind me. “Alright my Queen, everything’s gonna be okay, I’ll get you all clean and we can get some rest. I’ll get a witch out to help”

I tensed when he mentioned a witch but he didn’t comment on it and instead brought his fingers into my hair while the water poured over it and foamy soap fell to the base of the shower. His hands slid down my back and to my hips making me swallow thickly and turn around to look up at him. He was much taller in human form compared to our wolves.

I had seen Niklaus without any clothes many times after he turned but never had my body reacted the way it was now. Everything felt much hotter and my lower abdomen tingled. I looked up to see his brows risen as his head tilted to the side with a growing smirk on his lips

“Well you certainly are different like this aren’t you?” He hummed making me growl quietly in my throat though it sounded much softer than I had hoped and he chuckled. “Not quite the same affect hm?” His hand cupped my face and his thumb rubbed over my lower lip making my brows furrow “not so strong now are we little wolf?” He cooed at me like I was a child’s, so I did the only logical thing I could think of and bit his thumb.

He hissed and snatched his hand away making me see my opening and rush out of the shower, I was dripping wet as I ran out the bathroom and through his room only for him to appear directly infront of me at the doorway. I let out an ‘mph’ as I knocked into him and winced at the impact against my breasts.

I shoved at his chest but was lifted up and tossed onto his bed making me yelp. In a flash he was back on top of me and my face was heating up significantly as his naked body pressed to mine. My body reacted on its own to him and I was starting to get annoyed with myself. “You need to calm down love” he whispered lowly and a delightful sensation ran along my spine. My breathing picked up and my thighs squeezed together. His fingers brushed over my cheek and he gently kissed the corner of my mouth. “I shouldn’t have belittled you, I got carried away with how adorable you are as a human” he murmured and I let out a breath. “I never expected you to be human my queen, I didn’t think about how desirable you’d look” he whispered “but you’re all confused at the moment and clearly been through something so for now, I will get you something to cover up your stunning body so that I don’t pounce on you…again” he smiled and I gave a weak one in response.

With much reluctance he got me into a shirt and underwear, him self in a similar state and beckoned me over to his side of the bed. I shuffled closer and he brought an arm around me, my nose pressed to his chest and i breathed in his scent. He didn’t smell as strong without my wolf nose but he still smelt nice.

His hand stroked the back of my head pleasantly and I sunk into the bed, being a human wasn’t awful per say but I sure as hell hoped that those stupid witches burned for it.

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spaceman-earthgirl · 6 months

Text

Supercorptober 2023 Day 31: Spookycorp

It's been a busy month and I didn't get to do as many of these as I have in previous years but I've really missed writing supercorp and this month has been fun. I really appreciate all the support through likes and reblogs (and comments and kudos on ao3), I would not have written as many as I did without you guys.

Enjoy this final prompt (even if it is something silly) and thanks again for reading :)

ao3 fic link. series link.

---

Kara is dressed as a banana. And Lena thinks she might be in love.

“What do you think?” Kara asks, a stupidly beautiful grin on her face.

Yep, Lena’s definitely in love.

“I think you’re by far the brightest person in the room,” Lena comments. They both glance around and Lena is right, there are a range of different costumes around the room but Kara’s is, by far, the most eye-catching costume.

Kara grins again. “Alex bet me five sticky buns I wouldn’t wear this tonight, but guess who is going to have a delicious breakfast tomorrow morning?”

Lena’s not sure how one person can eat so much but there is no doubt in her mind that Kara will eat them all tomorrow. “I’m guessing you?”

Lena’s not sure how she does it, but Kara’s grin gets even brighter. She really is like the sun, bright and beautiful, drawing Lena in like no one else has before.

“It’s going to be so good,” Kara says. “She’ll also owe me a carton of ice cream if I can do five costume changes this evening.”

Lena takes a moment to process what Kara has said, thinking she’s heard her wrong. “You’re not going to wear this all night?”

“You think I’d come to a fancy party just dressed like a banana?”

“Honestly? Yeah. Somehow, this is very you,” Lena says, gesturing to Kara’s body.

“I don’t know what that means but I’m taking it as a compliment.”

Lena’s not quite sure what it means either. “You should. What other costumes do you have to wear?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” Kara winks, and Lena’s knees go weak. “I better go, I have lots of outfits to wear tonight if I want that ice cream.”

---

The next time Lena sees Kara is not long later, but it takes her a moment to realise it’s her because she has in fact changed costume. Lena has to take a breath before she makes her way towards Kara.

“I see you’ve changed,” Lena says, trying to keep her eyes from the distracting view of Kara’s now bare legs. She’s wearing a skirt, but it’s a short one.

“What do you think?” Kara asks, swinging the tennis racket she’s holding up to rest of her shoulder. She’s dressed all in white. White shirt, white skirt, white shoes, and even white sweat bands around her wrists and forehead. “Think I’d make a good tennis player?”

Lena has to take another breath, because this is a look she never expected to see on Kara, but one she knows will now be burned in her brain.

“I’m not sure, maybe we should play some time and find out?”

Kara’s eyes light up, which Lena is pretty sure is just the competitive nature in her.

“Deal.”

---

Lena spots the Scooby-Doo costume from across the room, the head towering over most people, and she doesn’t need to get closer to know that it’s Kara.

“Why are you dressed like a dog?” Lena asks when she does get closer. Because how can she stay away from Kara? Even if she does look a little ridiculous right now.

She’s drawing attention from other partygoers, clearly not used to people like Kara. But that’s the rich for you.

“I’m not just any dog, I’m Scooby-Doo.”

Lena rolls her eyes. “I know, because you made me watch both of those movies.”

“This was part of Alex’s bet, I think she’s trying to embarrass me.”

That sounds exactly like Alex. Lena presses her lips together, trying not to laugh. “I think you look cute,” Lena comments. “But I think you made a cute tennis player and a cute banana too.”

The costume hides half of Kara’s face, but Lena’s pretty sure Kara is blushing. Or maybe she’s just hot from the full body suit.

---

Lena hadn’t realised it was something she’d wanted to see until the next outfit Kara appears in is a Supergirl costume.

Kara looks incredible. She has a similar build to Supergirl, so from a distance, no one could be blamed for mistaking her for Supergirl.

Actually, close up, she wouldn’t blame someone for confusing the two either. The blonde hair definitely helps, so do the sharp blue eyes that Lena finds herself lost in thought about far too often.

“What brings you here tonight, Supergirl?” Lena asks, eyes dropping of their own accord. Lena knows Kara is quite muscly under her usual blouses and sweaters, but it’s something else seeing her in a suit like this. Lena’s pretty sure the suit isn’t padded, that it’s all Kara.

Another short skirt isn’t helping Lena’s attention either.

“A Luthor party is always a target, I thought I should stop by to make sure everything was ok,” Kara smiles.

Lena’s actually surprised the real Supergirl hasn’t stopped by, she usually does to any L-Corp event. Most times, just a visit from her is enough to deter any possible threats.

Lena smiles, still playing along. “Thank you, I appreciate it.”

“Anytime. I better check the perimeter, make sure there’s nothing I’ve missed. Have a good evening, Miss Luthor.”

“You too, Supergirl. Stay safe.”

Lena’s about to break character (though she’s technically playing herself) but she’s cut off when Kara floats off the ground and then disappears into the air, leaving a very surprised Lena in her wake.

---

Kara’s next costume is an angel, which goes well with Lena’s devil outfit (which consists of a black dress and horns on her head) but Lena can’t even admire that, not when her whole world has been rocked.

She wonders for a moment whether she’d just gotten the two confused, but there was no doubt in her mind before that she was talking to Kara.

Kara is Supergirl, and she’s not sure how she didn’t see it before, she’d even just thought about how similar they both look, and she still didn’t make the connection.

At least Kara’s hurried excuses to leave when they’re together make sense now but still, she’s smart, she should have figured it out.

Now here she is, not sure what to do with the information. Or she does. The answer is nothing, she’s not going to tell anyone. And she wants Kara to know she can trust her too.

(And part of her can’t help but wonder why Kara hasn’t told her yet. She thought they were friends. Thought they were best friends but it turns out Kara has been lying to her this whole time).

“Looks like you’ve won your carton of ice cream,” Lena says.

There’s no time like the present.

Kara frowns. “No, that’s only four.”

“No, that’s your fifth outfit.“ Lena holds up a fist, raising a finger as she counts each one. “Banana, dog, tennis player, angel and…”

Lena trails off, for a moment wondering if she should just keep quiet. But they’re alone near the food table, no one close enough to hear them. And she wants Kara to know that she knows.

Before Kara can cut in, Lena holds up her last finger. “And Supergirl makes five.”

Kara freezes, Lena can see her processing what she’s just said. Lena’s not sure what she’ll do if Kara denies it.

Kara glances around, voice quiet when she finally speaks. “How did you know it was me?”

Relief washes over Lena, she’s not sure what she would’ve done if Kara had denied it.

“The better question is, how did I not see it before? You don’t even wear a mask. But tonight I was watching the crowd, waiting for you to appear. I think I saw you before I realised what you were wearing.” Lena shakes her head. “I don’t know how I didn’t see it, you literally look the same.”

“Don’t beat yourself up, no one sees it.’

“But I’m your best friend, I should have known.”

“I think I should counter that with, you’re my best friend, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” Kara reaches out, takes Lena’s hand. “I promise, it was me and not you. I trust you, I just didn’t know how to tell you with all the history between you and Supergirl. Or you and me, I guess. I just didn’t want to risk losing you.”

Lena squeezes Kara’s hand. “You’re never going to lose me, I promise. But no more secrets, okay?”

Lena feels like a bit of a hypocrite asking that, when she’s hiding a secret herself. But baby steps, she can work up to telling Kara she’s in love with her another time.

“No more secrets,” Kara nods. “I promise. After the party, do you want to come over? I can tell you everything.”

Lena swallows down the emotion that rises in her throat. “I’d like that.”

The moment lingers and Lena finds herself caught in blue eyes she’s often distracted by.

She breaks the moment, she has to, before she does something stupid. “So, tell me, if Supergirl wasn’t your fifth costume, then what is it?”

“You’re just going to have to wait and see. I still need that fifth costume change because I cannot tell Alex one of them was Supergirl and that’s how you found out or she’d kill me. She already thinks I’m not careful enough, next she’ll make me wear a mask or something.”

Lena laughs. “Your secret is safe with me.” She pauses. “All of them.” Kara needs to know she won’t tell anyone either.

Kara smiles, tangling their fingers together again. This time she doesn’t let go. “I know.”

#supergirl #supercorp #kara danvers #lena luthor #supercorp fanfic #supercorptober2023

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gay-dorito-dust · 1 year

Text

‘I feel like I’m in a episode of Scooby Doo if it was injected with several pounds of crack.’ You said to yourself as you pressed yourself against a bookshelf, listen intently to the sound of armour clanking clumsily towards your aisle.

‘How is this like anything from Scooby Doo?’ Ashley asked, wondering how you and Leon could make commentary at the most inappropriate of times, as though what you were facing wasn’t fully capable of killing you both.

You shrugged, ‘ya know, the black knight’s ghost.’

Ashley only looked at you.

‘The suit of armour that’s haunted?’

She still says nothing.

‘That speaks in old English?’

The blonde only blinks in response.

You huffed, closing your eyes tightly, ‘from the James Gunn’s Live action Scooby Doo; Monsters Unleashed movie starting Sarah Michelle Gellar, Freddy Prince Jr, Matthew Lillard of Scream fame, Linda Cardellini and Neil Fanning as the voice of Scooby Doo.’

Ashley’s eyes widened as a smile spread across her face in recognition. ‘Oh yeah! That movie! Why didn’t you say so in the first place.’

‘I did but I keep forgetting you’re too young to understand what I’m referring to.’ You muttered under your breath. ‘Wait, is it just me or has the room surely grown silent?’ You asked when you couldn’t hear the sound of armour shifting anymore.

‘Now that you mentioned it…it has gotten a bit too quite.’ Ashley adds as your sudden awareness only made the grand library even more quiet, to the point where the only thing either of you could hear were your breaths and other parts of the castle that were considerably more active then yours.

Knowing that you’d only be hindering the mission by standing there, awaiting for something to happen, you moved out from the bookshelf, flashlight in one hand and gun in the other, as you scanned the area for any potential threats before you felt yourself being tackled to the floor; which knocked the air from your lungs and scattered your flashlight and gun away from your hands.

‘Y/n!’ Ashley cried out in terror as she watched you wrestle the person off of you before pinning them to the polished floor instead with your knees pining their hips as your hands pinned their wrists above their head.

‘Ashley, gimme some light over here so we can get a good look at the son of a bitch.’ You commanded slightly out of breath as Ashley obeyed and came to your side and shed some light onto your attacker, only to reveal…

‘Leon?’ You both asked in unison.

‘Hello to you too,’ Leon grunts, not wanting to openly admit to liking his current position beneath you a little more then he probably should. ‘I’m not one for getting roughed up but I’m pretty certain you bruised my wrists, partner or mine’ Leon, said but immediately regretted everything when he saw the unimpressed look upon your face.

‘You prick.’ You cursed as you released his wrists and got off of him, not even bothering in lending him a hand in getting up as you moved to leave. ‘I thought you were those infested knights or something.’

‘Not funny dickhead, not funny.’ Ashley said, also unimpressed with his stunt, before throwing the flashlight onto his stomach, causing him to grunt as she then followed after you, leaving him behind.

‘Thanks for helping me up guys.’ Leon huffed as he hauled himself up off the floor, flashlight in hand as he followed after you both, knowing that he’s going to be receiving the silent treatment here on out.

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yellowbunnydreams · 5 months

Text

Mechanised Devotion (Part 1) ~Steve Raglan/William Afton x Female Reader~

~ Please be nice to me, this is my first time writing fanfiction in a while and honestly have just been experiencing the phenomena that is Matthew Lillard as William Afton. Also, first time posting on tumblr! Also thinking of making this a multi-part series, so feedback is really appreciated!~

CW: Minors DNI, (18+ ONLY), afab reader, legal age gap (Reader- 20's, William - 40's), mention of crimes and violence, blood, mentions of child death (it's FNAF, what did you expect?), past trauma; abusive relationships.

When it had been suggested by your previous manager that you should see a career counsellor, you had thought it was a funny joke. You had laughed at the idea of something such as going to see another human being who's job was solely to tell you what jobs you were good and qualified for.

Until the paperwork had been handed over in an unsealed manila envelope letting you know that you had been terminated.

Unemployment had hit you like a truck, but without the pay-out that might have come from the trucking company. Filing paperwork to try and get even a few dollars a week to survive and contribute towards your house-share whilst already struggling to try and push through college had fallen by the wayside and you had been hitting the pavement both physically and online to try and find your next job.

That perfect one that was sure to turn up the next day, or maybe the next week.

But as somewhat expected, that moment had never arrived and neither did that job. So it was with great reluctance that you found yourself in a drab beige building with the occasional sound of human misery making the area feel like anybody was left alive in the room despite the faint clicking of the keyboard from the receptionist.

'Would it have killed them to put a small plant or something in the room?' You found yourself thinking as you looked around, almost missing the gesture from the receptionist lady who scowled over her glasses at you and handed you a slip of paper.

"Your councillor will see you down the hall, third door on the left."

"Thanks ma'am." your voice was quiet, and the woman scoffed before shooing you away with her somewhat ridiculously long nails. You wondered how she managed to do anything with them, but your thoughts quickly turned to the office you were supposed to find as you set off quickly down the hall.

The walls were beige, the floors were beige and you were minorly impressed that they had found somewhat beige doors as you moved down the hall cautiously. But the door you needed seemed almost comically like an old episode of Scooby-Doo where it was easy to tell what object was going to be interacted with due to the significantly different colours and quality of drawing. For some reason, the one door you needed was a nice deep wooden colour, although you seriously doubted it was real wood in a place like this. It took you a moment to breathe deeply, steeling your nerves and running your hand through your hair to tidy it up a bit, hand smoothing down your skirt before reaching up and knocking.

There was sound of shuffling from inside before a smooth, warm voice that came from inside though slightly muffled. "Come on in!"

Entering slowly, you blinked as you spotted a man sat at the desk infront of you, his hair peppered with greys despite being a cool brown colour and his slightly gaunt face adorned with greying stubble. Glasses perched on the end of his nose, which he looked over the rim of to see you before reaching up and pushing them back onto his face with his index finger, standing up with a warm, lopsided smile. What surprised you next was how tall he was. The guy was easily over six feet tall, and you felt dwarfed by his sheer size, broad shoulders accentuated by a neat by rumpled beige plaid shirt and a neatly knotted tie.

"You're my new client right? Come on in! Sit, sit!" he gestured to the cracked plastic chair opposite the desk with a large hand before extending it to shake your own, hand engulfing yours and allowing you to feel how rough and calloused they were compared to your own.

'How does an office worker get such rough hands?' you wondered as you took a seat, hands automatically tucking your skirt underneath you as you sat in the hard plastic chair. Blushing as you felt the man's grey eyes wandering over your appearance with something akin to disinterested amusement before he opened a folder and made a humming noise as he scanned it.

It allowed you to look around his office, noticing several framed diplomas on the walls, surprised by the amount of colour in the room with the warm wooden bookcase and even the occasional muted purplish-blue folder dotted amongst the shelves. You noted his room smelt like coffee, both freshly brewed and stale grounds somehow, a faint smell of smoke and cologne. Sniffing quietly, you wondered if perhaps the person who had sat there before you had been a smoker and worn some cologne to try and impress. But you supposed that you had gotten dressed up yourself despite your scuffed up converse ruining the somewhat ill-fitting blouse and skirt giving some illusion of professionalism.

"So, what are we going to do with you?" His voice made you jump as you suddenly snapped your attention back to him. Heart pounding as you blushed, realising as he tilted his head slightly to one side that he had caught you off-guard and slightly snooping.

"Pardon sir?" You asked, swallowing softly as you met his gaze for a moment before you looked down at your hands again. Picking slightly at your nails and more specifically the pale blush nail polish you had hastily tried to apply yourself that morning to hide the fact that you bit your nails. He paused before sighing and leaning forwards onto his elbows, chin resting on his hands as he gave you a somewhat lazy smile.

"I asked, miss..." he glanced at the paperwork before letting your name roll off his tongue in a way that made your heart pound slightly. You weren't sure why it did, but some tiny part of your brain was eager to hear him say it again. "what I was going to do with you. You have a clean employment record...aside from all the dismissals due to.." He paused and pulled his glasses down to peer over them to stare the text, his lips moving silently as he read before putting his attention back onto you. "it says here 'staffing issues and personal life interferance'?" Raising a quizzical eyebrow

"I um... I had some issues at home at that time Mr..." Glancing down at the nameplate on his desk, you realised he had never formally introduced himself to you apart from the handshake. "Raglan. I'd rather not talk about it."

"Well, I can't help you find a job if you don't help me help you." The man you now knew as Steve Raglan sighed, giving you another one of those lopsided smiles that made you feel like you were talking to a sweet, disappointed but supportive dad and gave you a pang in your chest that you might be letting this total stranger down.

"You don't have to tell me today, but I want to see you next week and I want you try to open up, tell me about what was going on and I might be able to offer something." Steve offered, gesturing to his pile of potential job prospects. You weren't aware that he was looking at you again, wondering if you purposely had chosen something that obscured your body-type and meant you weren't confident in yourself, or whether financially you had chosen what option was available.

The way you sat there meekly and picking at your nails was somewhat infuriating as he wanted to demand you looked at him when he spoke, but he remained calm. You were probably his most interesting client to date, hunching in on yourself and avoidant of filling in the blanks that your open ended statement had left. He decided he would lay on the charm slightly, see what got you to cave in and perhaps provide some amusement as his mind whirled with too many ideas and desire to move, do something and be far more active than his life as Steve Raglan allowed.

"I guess I'll see you next week then, thank you having me Mr. Raglan." you spoke softly and stood up. Watching as the hulking man stood too and opened the door with a somewhat sad smile, like he was watching a bright student walk down the wrong path in life.

"Of course, please, take this and give me a call if you would like to talk about this matter sooner. I hate to see a young woman like yourself go to waste because of one little hiccup." Another pang went through your chest as he spoke. He really did seem dissapointed in you, and some how, you found that you wanted to please the man you had met barely half an hour before.

As you walked down the corridoor, his eyes lingered on your smaller retreating form and tilted his head to one side, licking his lips to wet them for a moment in thought. He hoped whatever you were hiding from his was worth his time, and would perhaps find him another fun thing to play with.

#william afton x reader #steve raglan #steve raglan x reader #fnaf movie #fnaf x reader #william afton #springtrap #springtrap x reader #purple guy #william afton x you #william afton smut

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mysecretlittlelibrary · 5 months

Text

New Faces in New Places

Pairing: Derek Hale x Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: none really, just run of the mill teen wolf dangers lol

Genre: fluff I'd say

Summary: After a few signs from your familiar you're moving to a new town and you find out very quickly that it is anything but ordinary

***

You cross-reference the address your mom gave you with the building you're currently parked in front of. It looks like the right place but man, moving to a new town is always a hassle.

"We finally made it Ellie. You almost burned down my old apartment to get me here but- we made it. You'll have to wait here though, okay? I know mom trusts this guy but I'm not too eager to bring you into a vet's office for no reason." You say to your bird before you get out of the car. You make sure to leave the windows down because heavens know how long you'll be here. You walk into the office, startled slightly by the sound of the bell over the door. A Black man walks out of the back room wearing a lab coat over his maroon colored button-down. He's bald and has neatly trimmed facial hair.

"Hello. How can I help you?" He asks.

"Hi, Dr. Alan Deaton, I'm guessing?"

"Excuse me, do I know you?"

"Not me. But you do know my mother."

"And who is your mother?" He asks, an eyebrow quirking up at you. You wave a hand over your wrist, exposing your family crest marked into your skin, and show it to him.

"My goodness." He gasps stepping back. He swings open the door by the counter and gestures for you to follow him through the doorway he originally came through. "It's like seeing a ghost. I never thought I'd be seeing that crest again after your mother and I went our separate ways. Wait is she-"

"She's fine. Living her best life in Europe." You say, eyes shifting around the room to take it in as you lean against the metal exam table.

"That's good. What brings you here then?"

"Actually, my familiar. Kind of. She knocked over a candle that burned this spot on a map and when I did some digging, spoke to my mom and she told me it had to be here. Also that I'd find you at this place."

"I wasn't aware your mother still knew where I was but honestly leave it to her to keep track of her associates." He chuckles.

"Yeah, she told me if I was coming to Beacon Hills I had to find you first. So what do I need to know about your little town?" You ask.

"Oh well, we definitely get a lot of strange activity here. Beacon Hills has a nematon."

"Beacon Hills has a nematon?" That gets your attention. You had no idea.

"It was cut down many years ago so it's been dormant for quite some time until recently when a group of teenagers accidentally reactivated it."

"A group of teenagers reactivated a nematon?! What the hell kind of teenagers are running around here?" You blink at him.

"They weren't trying to. They were only trying to track down their parents and stop some human sacrifices."

"And they somehow reactivated a nematon? And they did that accidentally on their own?"

"I didn't know it would reactivate a chopped down tree but we also didn't have many other options at the time."

"So I take it you're quite involved with this group of teenagers?" You ask.

"Their ringleader works for me." He shrugs.

"Their ringleader works for you? So you're the adult to our resident Scooby gang." You laugh.

"What?"

"A Scooby gang is the term I use for a group of teenagers who have a knack for getting into shenanigans they have no business getting into." You shrug.

"Well, you know. Druids are advisors by nature."

"Sure- to supernaturals usually. Is this group of kids supernaturals?"

"Not all of them."

"Not all of them?! Are there a lot of supernatural kids around here?"

"Relatively?"

"What does that mean-?" You shake your head.

"Deaton! We need your help! It's Isaac- something's wrong he's not healing!" The frantic yelling along with loud movement from the front of the office turns your attention from Deaton to the doorway, your question forgotten as a man with dark hair comes barrelling in with a younger boy behind him carrying another. They all halt at the door when they see you standing there and you're smart enough to pivot so you're standing next to Deaton, out of the way assuming they intend to lay the half-conscious one on the table.

"Well don't just stand there bring him here. What happened?" Deaton asks. The man steps to the side boy carrying the other can lay him on the table.

"Wolfsbane." You say quietly, immediately picking up its signature with a magical scan of the boy.

"What?" Deaton's gaze snaps to you.

"It's Wolfsbane, we have to get it out of his system if you want him to heal himself. Do you know what kind? How it got in his system?"

"Does that matter?" The man asks staring at you from across the exam table.

"Kind of. All of that stuff affects potency and subsequently the best solution to-"

"Y/n." Deaton says gently.

"He's a bit old for your Scooby gang but I take it he's part of it?"

"I should've prefaced. They aren't all teenagers."

"Noted. But he is. And he's dying." Your gaze shoots down to the kid on the table again. "How do you want to go about this?" You ask crossing your arms.

"Can you tell me if it's yellow wolfsbane?" He asks.

"It's not." You say after a moment of your eyes flitting across the gash in his side.

"Good. So we can burn it out of him."

"You're going to induce a fever?" You ask and Deaton shakes his head.

"He's bleeding too much too fast. You'll have to burn it out."

"Me?" You blink at him.

"You know how to right?"

"Of course I do." You say.

"Well I don't keep a torch in the office so yes you'll have to do it." Deaton nods. You hardly notice the other two watching your conversation like it's a tennis match, both sets of eyes darting back and forth between you as you talk quickly with Deaton.

"Very well." You sigh rotating your neck and cracking your knuckles in preparation. You grasp the young boy's hand.

"What is she doing?" The man asks, almost growling as he shoots a glare.

"Saving Isaac's life. Back down Derek. You came here for help." Deaton says.

"Hi, Isaac. My name's y/n. I'm gonna do my best to make it quick but this is gonna be uncomfortable for a little while so- feel free to scream or break my hand." You say gently to the boy on the table, Isaac you presume, before closing your eyes. When they open again your irises are literal flames that shock the two people watching you carefully as their friend's life is in your hands. Isaac groans, his back arching off the table and his fingers squeezing around your hand with a strength that would probably crush it if he wasn't currently bleeding out on the table. It takes longer than you expect, seeking out and burning the wolfsbane coursing through his blood, but after a few minutes his blood starts to boil and you know there's no more of the deadly plant in his system. You close out your spell and wait for his grip to loosen before releasing his hand.

"I think you should wrap that gash. He's clear now but- there's no way of knowing when his healing will kick in." You tell Deaton. Deaton nods and grabs a gauze pad and medical tape.

"He'll be okay?" The other teenager looks at you and Deaton.

"Yeah he'll be fine." Deaton nods.

"What are you?" The teenager looks at you curiously.

"Who are you?" The man asks, his gaze is still skeptical but much less hostile, there's something in his eyes that you can't quite identify. Akin to awe but not quite.

"Scott, Derek, this is y/n. She's new in town. Y/n, this is Scott McCall and Derek Hale."

"Members of your Scooby gang." You say.

"Why do you keep saying that?" Derek asks.

"Before you walked in here Deaton was telling me about a particularly atypical group of teenagers that had a knack for getting into shenanigans."

"I'm not a teenager." Derek says.

"You haven't already met Stiles have you?" Scott asks. You turn to Deaton with a confused look on your face.

"Scott's best friend. Shenanigan might as well be his middle name. He's quite the erratic kid." Deaton explains.

"Ah- well, no. You, four are my intro to Beacon Hills." You say. Isaac groans as his eyes finally start to open. His half-lidded gaze turns to you and his brows furrow as he tries to identify the stranger in the room.

"You saved me." He mutters. "Are you an angel?" He asks suspiciously making you giggle at the question.

"No sweetie. In fact, some people would call me the opposite."

"Y/n don't freak him out." Deaton chuckles.

"No angel, just a witch. But welcome back. Whoever did this knicked you real good." You tell him with a soft smile and gentle squeeze of his arm.

"Well- thank you." Isaac says.

"A witch?" Scott blinks at you.

"Yep. I don't understand how this kid got wolfsbane poisoning. Are there hunters in Beacon Hills?" You frown at Deaton.

"Sometimes." Deaton says.

"One of them's an ally now though. He helps us a lot." Scott says.

"Hunters and werewolves working together. This is one interesting little town." You muse.

"You'll get used to it pretty quick." Deaton chuckles.

"Oh I'm sure. I'd hang around but Ellie will start to get antsy if she doesn't get out of her carrier soon so I have to find my house. I'll be in touch Deaton. I have a feeling this conversation is far from over." You say.

"You can call me when you get settled if you have any immediate questions. Or swing by later." Deaton says writing his number on the back of a card.

"You rest up Isaac at least a few hours before you do anything strenuous. And watch that gash, if it doesn't start healing within the hour come back to Deaton. And I assume you two will look after him. Nice to meet you all." You say to the trio of wolves before taking the card from Deaton and leaving the office. You don't notice the way Derek's eyes follow you but Deaton does, and he has to make a conscious effort to stifle his smile.

A week later and you're mostly settled into your new home. Ellie is also pretty well acquainted with her new space, which is great because she can be quite particular.

"Something interesting out there Ellie?" You ask when your bird perches by the window, staring outside as intently as a bird can. Her wings flutter fiercely for a moment and she attempts to pry open the window with her beak. You quickly stand from your couch and whistle at her, tapping your finger to guide her over.

"I take it we have to be somewhere? Now when I take you out there wait for me to get on my bike before you start rushing off to whatever danger you're chasing." You warn her as you put on your shoes. She coos at you with her head tilted slightly and you roll your eyes before leaving your apartment. Outside you barely manage to get the bike running before Ellie flies off down a street.

"Dammit Ellie." You huff, speeding after her on your bike, looking up every so often to check her flight path. She eventually perches on a perches on a light by a warehouse and you take off your helmet ready to curse her for being so frantic but the sound of voices inside grabs your attention.

"I told you not to rush off you silly bird." You hiss at her when she flies down to sit on your shoulder as you approach the door curiously. You can see two people standing to the side but ready to jump in along with three, no four, people circling each other and you can hear growling, which is cleared up when one of the faces is revealed to be Scott from Deaton's office. You've had a couple more conversations with Deaton since your first one and have since learned that Scott is the ringleader he'd mentioned that first day and that he's got a whole bunch of supernatural friends. You whistle loudly enough to get everyone's attention and six pairs of eyes snap to you. You recognize Isaac in the bunch too. The two other guys they were growling at don't match any of the descriptions Deaton's given you so, process of elimination tells you the other two people looking at you must be Stiles and Lydia.

"Whatever you think you saw, you didn't we were just teens doing- teen goof things." Stiles, you're pretty sure, frantically says.

"You know Stiles I'd have expected a better excuse from you." You say. "That is Stiles right?" You ask Scott. He and Isaac nod which causes Stiles to look frantically between the three of you.

"How do you know my name?! And you two know her? Why don't I know her? Who are you?" Stiles asks.

"I'm gonna ask that you hold all questions briefly." You tell Stiles before turning your attention to the two unidentified individuals who still look to be on guard. "You two, I'm guessing, do not belong here." You address them only to be met with a growl that you immediately counter with a command. "Ciúin." You say sharply and their aggression dwindles. "I suggest you both return to where you belong of your own free will while you can. This territory is not up for grabs." You say sternly, flashing your magic in warning. The boys glare at you as if they are planning to challenge your demand but neither seems willing to take the risk when they meet your warning gaze. After a stretch of silence, they let out another growl at Scott and Isaac before leaving.

"We totally could've taken them." Isaac huffs.

"What did you do?" Scott asks.

"Nothing really just- a scare tactic I learned some years ago." You shrug.

"Well thank you." He nods.

"Can I ask my questions now?" Stiles asks.

"Stiles, Lydia, this is y/n. She's new to Beacon Hills." Scott says to his friends.

"So how do you already know her?" Stiles asks.

"She knows Deaton. And, she saved Isaac's life." Scott says.

"Yeah." Isaac nods. "Hi again." He says to you with a shy smile.

"Hi, Isaac. You look much better than the last time I saw you." You return his smile with one of your own when he straightens up at your attention.

"So do you! I- I mean, now that I'm not like half-conscious or whatever." He says awkwardly shifting his gaze from you.

"Hey, how did you even know we'd be here?" Scott asks you.

"Ellie." You say lifting your shoulder slightly to show off the bird still perched there contently. "She flew right to you." You add, handing her a treat you conjured.

"That's a pigeon." Stiles says.

"She's my familiar." You correct him.

"You have a familiar?" Lydia asks.

"Correct." You nod.

"What does that mean? Is she not human?" Stiles asks Lydia.

"I'm a witch. Think druid but cooler." You wink at him. "Don't tell Deaton I said that." You add in a stage whisper that makes the others laugh.

"So is that how you knew my name?" Stiles asks.

"No. Deaton's just been giving me the 411 on everyone I need to know about so I made a guess based on the names and descriptions I have." You say.

"Scott we've gotta have a talk man. When you meet people who might be of significance like witches you're supposed to tell me!" Stiles says.

"I figured you'd meet her yourself soon enough." Scott shrugs.

"Before this continues- because I'm sure it will. What were those guys doing here anyway?" You ask interrupting the couple's quarrel that's about to start.

"They were- sending a message." Isaac says.

"A message? To whom?" You frown.

"Scott. Looks like word's gotten around that he's an alpha."

"It's a good thing you showed up when you did because I had a really bad feeling about them fighting." Lydia mutters.

"I guess Ellie's taken a liking to you all. She's the one who sensed there was trouble."

"Thank you Ellie." Scott says nodding at your bird.

"You all should get out of here and head home before any more trouble comes looking for you." You say.

"Will you be alright getting home?" Isaac asks you.

"I should be asking you all that." You chuckle.

"Stiles will drive us." Scott tells you.

"So?" Isaac prompts.

"I appreciate the concern hon but I am an adult, with enough magical power to level a city. I'll be fine on my bike." You laugh. "Now you guys get going." Everyone starts to move towards the door except Stiles, who starts to object when he sees his friends leaving.

"Hang on now just because you stopped a fight doesn't mean you can- woah woah hang on!" Stiles loses his train of thought as Scott drags him towards the warehouse entrance and you chuckle.

"Come on man don't be an ass." Scott mutters to his friend.

"I just want you to know I have more questions for you that I will be asking at a later date!" Stiles calls to you even as he's being removed.

"Deaton has my address! Have him give it to you and you can come by and ask as many questions as you want!" You shout after him.

"I will do exactly that!" He points just before the group exits and you laugh to yourself in the empty warehouse.

"You brought me across the country to protect this group of teenagers?" You ask Ellie. "I hope you know we'll have no more peace." You scoff at her before the two of you leave the warehouse yourselves.

A few hours later a knock on your door pulls you away from the movie you're watching. You place your mug of hot chocolate on the table before walking over to your front door and checking the spyhole to find Derek on your porch.

"Derek?! What are you doing here?" You ask with a frown. You haven't seen him since you met last week and quite frankly you weren't sure you would. He seemed rather apprehensive around you all in all.

"I- heard you helped the kids out of a jam earlier. I wanted to thank you." He says.

"Oh- no need. They probably could've sorted it out themselves honestly but Ellie really felt we had to step in."

"Ellie?"

"My bird, familiar."

"Familiar- that's right, you're a witch."

"I am indeed." You chuckle. "You- said you came here to thank me? I don't want you to feel like you have to do-"

"Oh I don't! Didn't. I'm not here out of obligation I wanted to come. It's not every day someone as pretty as you moves to Beacon Hills."

"Are you flirting with me Derek Hale?" You ask, surprised at his direct line.

"Depends on if it's working." He says.

"Are you here to ask me on a date or not Derek?" You ask. There's a moment of silence before he replies.

"Will you go on a date with me?" He asks.

"I would love to." You smile at him.

"I've been trying to work up the courage to ask you that all week." Derek breathes out.

"How cute. Do you have a phone?"

"Of course I do."

"Do you have it with you?" He hands you the device eagerly and you input your number for him. "You can call me when you've figured out the details." You say handing it back to him. "Okay?" You prompt when all he does is give you a goofy smile.

"Okay." He says still giving you a pleased look that makes you want to laugh at how cute he is. You jolt suddenly when your own phone rings on your coffee table.

"Oh shoot- one second." You say rushing to grab it. Unknown number. "Hello?" You answer walking back over to your front door where Derek has his phone pressed to his ear, looking at you cheekily as he speaks and his voice comes through your device.

"I'll pick you up at 7:30 on Friday?" He asks and you laugh before you give him an answer.

"Didn't realize you already had a plan."

"Oh, I've been planning all week. If you said yes I wanted to be ready."

"Then I will see you Friday. For now, you should go home, looks like it's going to rain." You say noticing the clouds obscuring the usually starry night sky. Derek looks up as if he didn't even realize.

"Right. I'll see you Friday." He says with one last smile before he takes off. You smile to yourself as you return to your movie and hot chocolate. Friday just can't come soon enough. Maybe moving to Beacon Hills was a more perfect idea than you gave Ellie credit for.

***

#teen wolf #teen wolf fanfiction #derek hale x reader #derek hale #derek hale fanfiction #derek hale fluff

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cursedonyx · 1 month

Text

Hogwarts Legacy Characters React to Being in a Haunted House Attraction

Sebastian Sallow

This boy doesn’t know the meaning of the word fear. Not in the sense of ghosties and ghoulies, anyway. He’s more frightened of things that can actually hurt, like Anne’s curse and Solomon’s abuse. Considering he willingly sought out tombs and catacombs to explore that are full of inferi, a haunted house is a walk in the park for this ballsy lad. He might jump if a scare actor pops up but then he’ll laugh and tell them ‘you got me!’ He treats the whole thing as a game and relishes any puzzles he comes across. He’s most often found joking with Ominis about everything, but this is partly because he's extremely protective of his best friend. Even though he knows he’s more than capable, he’ll keep an eye on him all the same.

Sebastian absolutely wants to go again the second he’s out, and might complain if he’s not allowed.

Ominis Gaunt

Shockingly, none of the visual scares work on our prince of snakes, and he soon gets used to the cacophony of spooky noises that surround him, they don’t bother him. He does find it a bit disorienting if there’s a lot of noise, and though he complains that he’s bored or finds it pointless, a very well-placed sound-effect will have him leap Scooby-Doo style into the closest person’s arms. He’s grossed out if he has to touch anything nasty and will avoid it at all costs. Everyone follows him through the hall of mirrors because to him, it’s just a hall.

He does end up enjoying it more than he’ll admit out loud, because after growing up in the house he did, what true fear can be found in a haunted house? It’s nice to be scared safely around his friends.

Garreth Weasley

Similarly to Sebastian, Garreth has a good time in haunted houses, but he’s very easily startled or spooked. He’s the first to scream at a jumpscare and he’s absolutely terrified of anything resembling a scary white lady with long black hair. He can and will bolt if he sees this. To cover his nerves, he makes loud, crass jokes and puns, which will either help calm everyone down or piss them off.

He and Sebastian might get into a dick-swinging contest about who’s the least scared, but when Seb suggests they go through alone, Garreth is not keen, but he’ll do it if he’s sufficiently egged-on, and he will shit bricks. It’s harder to be brave when there’s no one to show off for.

Leander Prewett

Leander is the type to boast about how ‘not scary’ these types of attractions are when he’s in the queue, but the moment he’s inside, he’s holding onto Garreth’s hand for dear life and more often than not is hiding his face in the back of Garreth’s shirt. Credit to him, he’ll go through the whole haunted house, but it’ll take a lot for him to actually feel brave enough to peek at his surroundings. He’ll probably regret it, because with Leander’s luck, he’s going to come face to face with something terrifying. The only time he’ll not cling onto Garreth like a life-raft is if he’s in there with people who are more frightened than he is – seeing other people more scared than him brings out the true Gryffindor bravery in him and he’ll lead them through, even if he needs a very strong drink afterwards.

Amit Thakkar

Perhaps surprisingly, Amit loves haunted houses. He knows they’re all pretend and are full of actors, not actual things trying to kill him, so to him they’re very much a game, a way to experience danger without actually being in danger. He’ll still shriek like a banshee at every little thing and might even run away at times, but the only thing he’ll outright refuse to do is crawl through a small space. He’ll have to be immobilised and pulled through if the group comes across one, because he absolutely will not do it under his own steam.

Andrew Larson

He’s a nervous giggler, and is cackling pretty much all the way through. He feels safest if he can hold onto someone and will probably form a chain with Garreth and Leander. That said, he’s not above taking advantage of how unnerved everyone is and he might try a few of his own scares, like running his fingers over the back of someone’s neck and pretending he didn’t, or blowing puffs of air on someone. He’s not particularly subtle and will probably be caught out quite quickly, but he’s such a sweetheart that everyone forgives him.

Duncan Hobhouse

Similarly to Leander, Duncan will boast to everyone that haunted houses don’t scare him, but he’ll only boast about that when there’s no chance of him being within fifty miles of one. He’ll come up with all sorts of excuses to avoid going, but if he’s forced, he’s going to be bawling from the moment he sets foot inside. Chances are he won’t make it to the end and has to be rescued by the staff before he has a full-on meltdown. Ominis, naturally, will take every opportunity to scare him more and make him leave so he can enjoy the rest of the attraction in relative peace. One could term this cruel, if it wasn’t for the fact that Duncan had been planning to do the exact same thing but meaner to Ominis until his cowardice got the better of him.

Natsai Onai

Natty can take or leave a hunted house. She enjoys the experience, but she’s had one too many scares in her life to take any real enjoyment out of being deliberately scared for fun. What she likes is the camaraderie with her friends as they all go through together, and she’ll be the first to make fun of herself for screaming at a spider when an axe-wielding maniac is chasing them down a hallway.

She’s also a bit of a mum-friend – if someone’s really struggling, she’ll do her best to comfort them and show them that haunted houses aren’t that scary, so she’ll probably be part of the chain with Garreth, Leander and Andrew. She’ll hum nursery-rhymes from her childhood when she gets nervous, and the others find this both endearing and comforting.

Poppy Sweeting

This little hellion will scare the actors. Poppy is a feral nutbucket and she delights in the chaos of the average haunted house. She will happy charge ahead by herself, shriek and wail at the actors to make them back off then go running back to the group with a huge grin on her face. On occasion, Garreth might pick her up and point her at something particularly scary, like a whirling-limbs-shield.

Poppy’s laughter is genuine in a haunted house. She loves the décor, the aesthetic, and the efforts the actors put in, and her enthusiasm is infectious. She and Sebastian will probably run off ahead together at some point, find some masks or bandages, then jump out and scare their friends.

She will actively try to save any real spiders she finds, and chances are her pockets will be full of them when she leaves.

Imelda Rayes

Imelda will probably affect great boredom going through a haunted house, complaining loudly about how dull everything is. She’s got a keen eye and great reactions, so she’ll probably spot a scare coming a mile off, most of the time. A skeleton would pop out and she’d yawn and go ‘seen it before!’ but then she’d turn around and come face to face with a scare she wasn’t expecting and scream the place down. Being used to yelling across a quidditch pitch, Imelda’s screams are quite something to behold, and Ominis learns very quickly not to stand too close to her for fear of going deaf.

Once out, Imelda will be the one giving a blow-by-blow of what happened inside, laughing with everyone about which bits scared whom and doing impressions of everyone’s reactions.

Masterlist

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy reactions #hogwarts legacy imagine #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #garreth weasley #poppy sweeting #leander prewett #andrew larson #natsai onai #imelda reyes #amit thakkar #duncan hobhouse #haunted house

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romana-after-dark · 7 months

Text

Guard Dog

Riader!Joel Miler x Dark!fem!reader

Masterlist : Taglist

Summary: Joel attempts to raid the wrong house, and having the Joel Miller on his knees before awakens something in you... and in him.

Content and Warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT Dub con on Joel (Is it non con? idk. Idk how im supossed to tag this but it's no where near the violence of tww someone help), references to non con from Joel to other women, gun sucking, fem domme, dark!reader but Joel is also dark soooooo, subby Joel, dead bodies, Nick reference (if you read TWW you know lol), multiple orgasms, overstim, dumbification?

AN 1: This essentially came of two thoughts, me thinking hmmmm how to write raider!Joel in a new way? 2. I want to avenge Little One. Joel did her so dirty and is still doing her so dirty in the dark timeline addition, lowkey wanted someone to get revenge for her. Plus, subby Joel is always a win for Fen and Maura lol

AN 2: Shout outs to @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin and @toxicanonymity for talking me through this idea, esp Toxi for letting me use the gun blowjob bit lololol if you like that concept, I encourage everyone to check out toxi's raider joel Or maybe Jake's part in the chasing series

***********************

Whoever it was, they had chosen to raid the wrong fucking house.

Yes, you were a single woman. Yes you lived alone. But no, you were not helpless, far from it, actually. Whoever it was is lucky they had made it past the set of boobytraps thus far. Actually, it sounded like a few of them had been taken out as it was.

Joel watched in relief as the arrow went through Nick’s skull. Relief it wasn’t him. He never liked Nick that much anyway, real creepy guy. In fact, he didn’t like any of the men that this house had gotten either. It was exhausting, trying to lead a group of dumbasses and whatever the fuck was in here it wasn’t worth it, so Joel attempted to make his exit. Thing was, leaving was proving just as hard as entering was. Whoever lived here didn’t want anyone living to tell the tail. Stepping over the dead bodies of a few of his men, Joel had narrowly dodged more arrows, spikes, darts; the whole lot, until some secret fucking door opened up like a goddamn scooby-doo house and there you were, gun to his forhead.

“Joel fucking Miller, I’ll be damned.”

Joel narrowed his eyes. He didn’t recognize you, but you knew him. That wasn’t surprising, he’d gained a bit of a reputation from raiders, fireflies and regular people. “Who the hell are you?”

You tell him your name, first name at least, and make quick work of taking out the gun in his hand. “Armed with anything else, Miller?” He said he wasn’t, but you knew that was a lie. “Don’t believe that for a second.”

“Then why the hell did you ask?” His texan drawl was prominent, especially when he was worked up.

“More fun to mess with you.” Keeping the gun pressed up to his temple, you press your body against his in turn as you pat him down for more weapons. It didn’t hurt that he was handsome.

“JESUS!” Joel jumped as you grabbed at his ass. “Watch your fucking hands.”

You can’t help but giggle; he thinks he's in charge. “You could be hiding weapons anywhere-” He tenses as you slip your hand between his buttcheeks as much as his jeans allow. “-Can’t be too careful.”

Joel was a brutal man, you heard stories of his rage and carelessness for human life, including women. There’d been many such stories of him forcing himself on women, kidnapping and trafficking… maybe he needed a taste of his own medicine? You take your time on his top half, feeling up every muscle, every bit of pudge, every dip on his broad body. Then, onto the lower. Without hindrance, you grope at his crotch and are very impressed by the size of him; and amused by the way he’s already semi-hard. Men are so easy, it’s funny sometimes.

“This make you excited, Miller? Or does it scare you to be at a woman’s mercy for once? Maybe a little bit of both?”

Joel didn’t look at you, lips pursed in a hard line.

You continue, moving the gun to his pants as you kneel before him to check lower. “I bet this is more your speed isn’t it? Having a pretty woman on her knees?”

The scoff above you doesn’t go unnoticed. “Mighty full of ourselves, aren’t we?”

After taking a knife and a gun that were strapped to his ankle, you stand up, satisfied with your work and the ever-growing bulge in his pants. “I own a mirror, Miller. I know what I got going on.” Degrading won’t work on you. With a nudge, you press him towards your room.

“Yuh gonna kill me?” There was no fear in his voice when he asked. This was a man prepared for death whenever it came.

“We’ll see. Gonna have a little fun with you first.”

Having Joel Miller on his knees for you was a goddamn treat. He looked so good like this, so submissive even if his bratty little face wanted to put on a show.

“It’s natural, you know.” With a glance down, you let him know that you are referencing his half-hard cock. “The adrenaline.” You squat in front of him. “How many girl came when you forced yourself on them? How many felt their bodies betray them? Did you laugh at them for getting wet?”

“I didn’t-”

“It’s humiliating, isn’t it?” Your gun was still out, knowing physically he could probably overpower you still. You weren’t weak by any means, but you also were aware he had far more upper body strength, muscles bulging through the seem of his shirt sleeves. The cool end of the gun prodded at his face as he tried to keep calm; the bob of his adam's apple and subtle rise of his chest was giving away his nerves. It was exhilarating, having a man that many feared, the cause of death of so many men, someone of damn-near legendary status and his knees for you… You couldn’t help the reaction the thrill had in pooling in your stomach. It was natural, wasn’t it? That’s what you told Joel.

Using the gun, you move his face around a bit to really take in his features. Strong nose, curly salt and pepper hair, soft brown eyes and lips you just really wanted to make whimper.

“Your quite handsome, you know that?”

An ironic chuckle. “I have a mirror too, sweetheart.”

You can’t help smiling at him as you straighten back up. “Take off your shirt.”

He rolled his eyes but did as he was told.

“Obedient thing, aren’t you? Bet I could train you, bet that’s what you need, isn’t it?” You slip your hand in your pants, feeling up your own wet cunt as the thrill of power elevates things. “Tired of having to decide, having to lead…” Maybe the adrenaline was getting to you, but you suddenly wish you had a dick to make him suck. You don’t, so you settle for the next best thing. You tap his lips witht he barrel of the gun. “Open.”

Joel hesitates, a slight spark of fear in his pretty eyes as he keeps his lips tightly closed, and that just won't do. You slap his cheek with the gun, and as grunts in pain the seal of his lips pops open.

“Ah-mph” His cry of pain was quickly muffled by the gun being shoved in his mouth.

“Suck on it, cowboy. Act like you fucking enjoy it.”

You don’t think he needs to act. Joel sucks on your gun like he would a dick and you furiously finger yourself to his rhythm. As he closes his eyes, you can hear a low groan emitting from his throat and his hands twitching at his side.

“Touch yourself, go ahead.”

He didn’t need to be told twice, his right hand flying to the seam of his pants and palming at his full erection.

“Good boy, good fucking boy” You praise. “Just an obedient little dog pretending to be a lone wolf. Is that it? You just want someone to tell you what to do, huh?” You release the gun from his mouth and can’t help but grin as his lips chase it.

“Y-yes.” Joel admits, face strained in tension as he kept touching himself. Must hurt, being constrained like that.

“Take it out. Eyes on me.” You guide his face to look up at you with the tip of your gun. “Look in my eyes as you do it.”

As he released himself, Joel did indeed look up at you; he looked up at you as if you made the stars in the sky.

Once his cock was out, all 9 or so inches, you take off your sleep shorts and straddle over him but not yet putting it in. “I don’t think I need this gun anymore… but I think you like it.” When you sink down on him, gun pressed to his ribs as a firm reminder of who was in charge, you hold your breath in order to hear the simple whimpers and guttural groans that Joel tried so hard to hide.

“This is where you belong, isn’t it?” You goad him, eliciting a quiet ‘yes’ from his lips. “Under me, belong to me.”

You are speared on him, his dick spreading you open and stretching you unlike anything you had felt before and you loved it. Every chance you had, you felt his muscles, reveling in the fact such a physically strong man was so mental weak for you and only you.

“Can I cum? Please?” Joel begged for you, pleaded ever, lips quivering even as you kissed him.

“Almost there, baby, almost- mmmm- almost there. You can cum after me, okay?”

Joel nodded quick, tiny nods and hesitantly moved a hand to your hips. He looked up at you bouncing on his cock for permission, and when you nod back he goes to thumb at your clit.

“OH GOD!” You shout, breathless, slick all over your thighs and his pants, his touch sending you over the edge. You cum hard, walls pulsing all around him and he doesn’t ask again before spilling his seed inside you, filling you to the brim.

Your body relaxes, but then Joel throws you to the ground causing you to drop your gun and for a moment you thought he bested you, got you distracted; until he dove right into your cunt with no regard for the lost gun. He didn’t care about beating you, he cared about tasting you. As he desperately licked his cum out of your dripping hole, you tugging at his curls, Joel humped the floor as if he hadn’t just gotten released. You pull him close, riding out another orgasm on his face. When you cum a third time, you have to push him back, the overstimulation from the desperate man’s tongue, lips and beard being too much. When you do, he looks up at you with wide eyes as if he had done something wrong, but you pull up and into a kiss before laying him down on the floor to kiss him some more.

“Not sure if I wanna let go of you, cowboy…” You tease, playing with his hair but keeping him firmly pressed to the ground. “Might have to keep you around, but my little guard dog, how about that?”

Joel’s eyes were glossy, his face so fucked out you weren’t sure he was fully cognizant. “Baby boy too tired to speak? That’s okay, I’ll take care of you too. You be the arms; I’ll be the brains. You won’t have to have a single thought outside me again, okay?”

***********

Part 2 here

LOWKEY NERVOUS BC THIS IS SUCH A DIFFERENT JOEL AND HE DOESNT DO A LOT OF TALKING?!?!?!?!?!??! UNSURE HOW I FEEL

Anyway I do hope to write more maybe? so if you wanna be tagged comment below! I liek the idea of having a joel I can kinda just write stuff about whenever instead of a story and an arch and characters to balance. This is just more casual. and i dont gotta go nuts keepingup with posting like my other stories. Im think a v joel tess kinda vibe where she's clearly leading him

I was supossed to be working on the next part to my Javi P x reader x Santi AU buuuutttttttttttt I couldnt get this idea out of my head. So. here you all go! I'll try and work on that, the dark! TF boys, TWW, and the Will Miller story lol its kinda a lot rn

Please consider reblogging and commenting to support your fav writers <3

@fandxmslxt69 @moriartyyouwhore @hereforthepedrofanfic @alwaysmicado @noisynightmarepoetry @morallyinept @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @the-fox-den @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @k-ra

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m-arkmywords · 1 year

Text

weekly food shopping

pairing: mark x fem!reader

genre: fluff, smut, mentions stoner mark x reader, established relationship, kitchen sex not suitable for minors

word count: 1,555

Summary: Friday evening spent grocery shopping and then cooking that leads to... other things as your boyfriend comes to spend the weekend.

"Yooooo let's get some ice cream!" your boyfriend exclaimed, walking through the grocery store like an excited puppy.

"Oh my god! Do you see these frozen waffles?! Let's get these too babe."

"Mark. Focus." You tried to hold back a smile at his cuteness, trying to stick to the list of what you actually need. "They say you should never go shopping on your period or high" you shake your head.

"Dude do we look high?" he stopped suddenly and turned to you, examining your eyes and you examined his.

"Nah, nah we good.. we good" You sniffed him, clearing your throat, as tried to look normal and serious. You both burst into a laughing fit at the situation. "Yo we're lowkey a meme right now." You said in between your chuckles, struggling to get the words out. "You know.. the Scooby and Shaggy one."

"ARF?!" Mark did his best Scooby expression, causing you to fall to the floor laughing and him following right after. Laughing with him was your favourite way to spend time on this planet. Every time you both joked around, the whole world disappeared and it was just you and him in the entire existence. In your own little world, created by you both.

"Ok.. ok.. babe, be serious. We're here for groceries." You said, as you both got up off the floor and tried to blend in with everyone else.

It was the beginning of the weekend and Mark had come to stay over like he did most weekends. It had been a long week between classes and working part time. Some quality time with your boyfriend is just what you needed to unwind.

As you scanned your items at the til, Mark ran to get a box of cereal and added it to the shopping. "This too, thanks" he placed a kiss on your cheek. Busy, putting stuff in the bags. You didn't notice Mark pull out his card and pay for everything.

"Hey! Wha-" He took your hand and squeezed it before you could finish your sentence. "It's okay, baby. I got it."

Between classes, work and studio time. Mark has been working extra hard to create the life that he wants. That included, being able to take care of you and he voiced this at every chance he got. "If I can't cook then at least I can contribute this way, right?" He plays it off as a joke and you don't protest any further.

________________________________________

Back in your kitchen, you put on some rice and a veggie curry to cook. Mark played a song he had been working on through the speakers. The acoustics of your kitchen gave it a reverb sound. You sat on the kitchen counter and focused on the song as Mark came to stand between your legs. "So... whatchu think?" He rested his head into your chest and caressed the sides of your thighs.

"So good babe. I'm super proud of you for always working so hard." You kissed the top of his head. He glanced up at you with doe eyes, completely melted into your frame. "I mean it. All this hard work won't ever go in vain, I promise." You gave him a warm smile.

"You promise?" he held out his pinky.

"I promise." you intertwined your pinky into his, leading into your secret handshake that's followed by a kiss. And of course. You both couldn't go an hour without kissing. You ran your nails across his neck, sending goosebumps down his body as you deepened the kiss. His body reacted by pulling you closer with a tightened grip on your thighs. Mark was obsessed with your thighs. He always had to be touching them, caressing them, kissing them at all times.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, feeling him poke into your thigh. "Mmm, don't make me fuck you on this kitchen top right now." His breath, now shaky. You ignored his comment, pulling his bottom lip between your teeth as you pull away. Making him move in towards you in a trance.

"No can do sir! I've gotta finish cooking." You slid across the counter to go to the stove to check on the food. Mark followed.

Standing behind you, he kissed your neck. His hands rubbed your tummy under your t-shirt to slowly finding their way to your nipples. "Mark.." You let out a heavy sigh, and leaned some weight into his frame, grappling to hold yourself up.

"Continue. I'll just be here." He whispered into your neck and then sucked on it, leaving a mark. His hands, moved painfully slow pinching your nipples before moving into your sweats. He lightly stroked your clit through the fabric of your underwear. Making you press your ass into his crotch. His hands traveled further down as he felt you soak through your underwear. "i'Ve goTtA fInIsH cOoKing" he laughed softly, mocking you.

"Stooooop man" Your face now hot and cheeks flushed from embarrassment, before you gather yourself swiftly.

"Shhh" you slowly snaked your free hand behind your back, to feel him hard. His cockiness melted away, soon as your hand came in contact with his dick. You palmed him over the fabric and he did the same for you. You turned the stove off, knowing there is not turning back now.

"Ugh!" he groaned into your ear, desperate to be inside you now. "Man fuck this food!" he spun you around by your waist and carried you to the kitchen island. He ripped your sweats and underwear off you in anguish. Diving right between your legs, he slipped his fingers inside you, eagerly wanting you stretch you out ready for him. Your fingers ran through his hair as you tried to catch your breath. Desperate to feel him too.

"Mark"

"Yeah?"

"Just fuck me."

And you didn't have to tell him twice. Mark threw his sweats off and your eyes met his hard dick. Tip, glistening with pre cum. He stroked himself against your slit until he was covered in your wet. Teasing you painfully slow. Your body jolting, every time his head met with your swollen clit. You felt yourself tearing up. "Please." You begged.

His eyes moved up to meet yours as he aligned himself with your entrance. "So... pretty... when.. you.. beg.." Burying himself deeper inside you with each word. He let out a groan as he bottomed out and leaned down to kiss you again. His movements painfully slow and his tongue exploring your mouth. His hands cup the top of your head as you moved into his hands with each thrust. Your arms around his shoulders, holding him in an embrace.

"You feel so good" You closed your eyes, letting yourself get lost into him. He perfectly fit inside you and found his rhythm. You both drifted off into ecstasy, moaning into each other's mouth. You grabbed at the bottom of his t-shirt. "Take this off" You commanded and he pulled back to do as he was asked. He pulled you onto your feet, taking off your t-shirt in exchange for his, before turning you around. He bent you over the island.

"Good girl, baby bend for me.." he smacked your ass as he entered you from behind. Unable to wait for you to adjust to the new position. He grabbed your waist and rammed into you with a grunt. You gasped, trying to find the air in your lungs. "Love when you gasp baby" he grabbed your jaw and pulled you to him to kiss you again. Your mascara now ran down your cheeks and he kissed your tears. "You feel so good baby, so wet for me.. so tight." He let go of your jaw and gave you another smack. His words made you clench around him, making him whimper in return. As you found your balance, you started to meet his rhythm and throw it back at him. It was now his turn to have his head empty, as curse words and loud moans roll off his tongue. "wa.. wait, wait wa-" "you're gonna make cum like this" he whimpered, a mess. Taking this as encouragement, you carried on as you felt him throb inside you. His movements now getting messy and his legs weak.

"Baby.. i'm gonna cum" you felt the heat build up in your core as he twitched and released inside you. You both moaned loudly, incoherently, reaching climax together.

You kept going though. Mark now a moaning, drooling mess, fell onto your back. His nails digging into your waist as he holds himself up with your support.

"Baby.. i-" his eyes scrunched shut and mouth pouted, trying to hold his moans in. "Sto... I can't.. I can-" the air leaving his lungs, he released once more as his entire body twitched.

Finally, taking himself out of you. You turned around to pull him into another kiss as you felt him trickle down your thighs. Ah! You loved this feeling. The mixture of both of your fluids, oozing out of you, comforting the soreness slightly on it's way out. Shocks still flying through your mind but you giggle at his fucked out state.

"So.. dinner?" You asked, as you start to dress yourself.

"I love you" all he could muster out with no thoughts remaining in his mind.

#nct dream fic #nct 127 fic #mark lee #mark lee fic #mark lee smut #mark lee fluff #nct imagines #mark lee x fem reader #nct #mark fanfic #stoner vibes as requested

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