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ozzgin · 5 months

Note

Do you only write Hannibal lecter or do you also write for NBC Hannibal?

Yandere! Hannibal x Reader: The Grand Meal

Gather around for a short story in the spirit of Thanksgiving. You have been invited by Hannibal Lecter to a celebratory dinner, although unexpectedly barren of other guests. He will be entertaining you this evening, carefully describing each dish as he battles his own inner turmoil. (For extra immersion, I suggest listening to Bach's 'Sheep May Safely Graze')

Warning: Cannibalism and detailed gore. I'd advise against reading if you're squeamish.

[Horror Masterlist]

He politely aids you in removing your coat, folds it over his forearm, and steps aside, expectantly. You glance at him, somewhat confused.

"Your bag, if I may."

"Oh, I...I was planning to bring it with me. I have my phone in it and all the essentials." you stutter, unsure.

Uh huh. Your etiquette seems to be lacking in certain areas. Nothing that cannot be chiseled.

"You won't be needing it, I assure you." he extends his hand out, waiting.

You hesitantly place the dark leather Pochette into his fingers. Hannibal has always been rather particular when it comes to decorum. You wouldn't want to upset him, especially given his generous invite to his Thanksgiving celebration. He'd heard your complaint of being alone during the holidays and he encouraged you to join him instead.

As you hurry behind him down the spacious hallway, you quietly marvel at the expensive, tasteful paintings sporadically adorning the walls.

"I suspected they might be to your liking." He briefly peeks back at you with a faint smile on his lips.

The heavy wooden doors creak open and your nostrils are quickly overwhelmed by the tempting smell of intricate dishes. You narrow your eyes, taking in the flavors. Once you finally look ahead, you notice that the table, although neatly decorated, consists only of two seats that have been prepared for dining. Two opposing seats, causing the whole setup to seem of ridiculous length.

"Pardon my intrusion, but is anyone else attending?" You cannot contain your curiosity.

"Oh, no. Not really." Hannibal pulls your chair outwards before departing to his own designated place. "It's you and me. Does that bother you?"

"I suppose it's cozier this way." You brush it aside with a chuckle. Better than being alone, you tell yourself.

He nods in agreement before settling down. He takes a moment to examine the table, confirming that everything is indeed in its proper place. A final, satisfied incline of his head.

"Allow me to introduce today's dishes. I don't want to keep you waiting for too long." He says as he remembers your earlier little gesture of delight. "It's a little bit of a scattered theme, if I am to be honest with you. I've drawn my inspiration from varied cuisines."

"I can see. How exciting!" You swiftly scan over the diverse plates, enthusiastic and hungry.

"The main course is over there. Balsamic-glazed oven baked ribs. I recommend a drizzle of cranberry sauce to go with it."

As he points to the dish, he can almost hear the dry crack of the bone. Abruptly, he's been taken back to the previous night, to his humble slaughter room - the meat needs to be fresh after all. Shears cut through the ribs with little resistance. The blades go around the thoracic cavity, contouring the ribcage. Once a proper opening has been made, he firmly grasps each side of the ribcage and nonchalantly lifts the bone flap, resting it over the face.

Wait. He quickly digs through the skin and fat that had been shoved aside with the carcass, searching for the face of the victim. It's you. How delectable and surprising that you've wandered into such a recollection. Well, not quite a surprise that you've invaded his memories; from the very moment he met you he's been plagued by this indecent idea: How would you look on the dissecting table?

His musings are interrupted by the sizzle of the sparkling wine he's currently pouring in your glass. He finds himself back at the dining table, together with his favorite guest. You graciously thank him, and as he gazes over your features, he can't help but continue this game of imagination he's just spontaneously devised. Whoever had been carefully served for this occasion will be temporarily replaced during the theatrical retelling by you. And what a fine actor you'll be, even though you're not aware of it.

Alright, one must start from the beginning. He traces the edge of the autopsy table and inspects the drain just below your feet. He wouldn't want an incident. Would you be mortified if you'd learn your secretions and discharges leaked and clotted against the sieve? Don't worry, you'll be spared of such scenarios. He'd never willingly embarrass you like that. He softly presses the scalpel against your bare skin, going under each breast and stopping at the pubic bone. Now to trim the thick layers of fat sticking to the dermis. You're not making much of a mess, but then again it's a dream within his idle mind. A mischievous grin takes over his expression once he witnesses his clean work. The segments of skin detach smoothly, revealing your glistening, bloated organs.

He already went over the ribs. That part has been covered. What comes next? His eyes rest on the most obvious: your intestines. Which reminds him...

"This one is a Middle Eastern dish. Stuffed intestines. You gently cut the membrane, like this." He demonstrates on a separate plate. "Don't worry about seeing some additional blood. Naturally there are many capillaries irrigating the walls, so you might open them up in the process. It quickly seeps into the mixture and adds a bit of a stagnant flavor to it, but it's merely noticeable."

You swallow dryly.

Back to the original matters. He searches for his scissors and cuts along the attachment tissue smoothly. Once the bowels have been freed, he fondles them into his hands, cupping them into place, and hurries to the nearby counter. The entrails collapse and spread onto the marble surface, like mischievous tentacles. He languidly eyes them. Do organs resemble their owner? Absurd question, really. Do they reflect one's health - that much is indubitable. Yet he can't help feeling that if presented with an endless row of viscera, he could, without hesitation, point and state which ones are yours. It's a mysterious confidence whose source he cannot pinpoint. You've always captivated him. Just when he thinks he's had you like an open book, you slip and slither between his fingers. Fitting.

What is it about you that preoccupies his mind to such degree? He turns back to the table and scans the remaining options. Your intelligence? The tool drawer opens and his fingers linger over the saw and skull chisel. Perhaps. But there's more to it, really. His analytical, rational self craves for more than what it can grasp. And what it lacks, well...

He pinches the visceral fascia and lifts the translucent membrane, with the same delicacy of unveiling a young bride, and reveals your heart, cold and still. There it is, the answer to everything. A transect to the vena cava near the diaphragm and the organ has been separated from the rest of the body. An angel with clipped wings. Holding it like this, he can almost discern the faintest throb, the fibrous muscle pressing into his skin.

"And this?"

He purses his lips, taken aback by his own rudeness. Has he been zoning out in plain sight?

"I'm afraid I don't follow."

"The dish, I mean."

He follows the direction of your stretched out index. Ah.

"Heart stuffed with mushroom duxelle. Old English classic with a twist."

"You sound like a professional chef", you respond as you laugh. "Is there anything you can't do?"

Is there? He considers it. Right before his revelation was discontinued by your inquiry - absolutely not your fault, the ill manners were his - he was wondering if he possesses the capacity to love you. He definitely prefers you over all of the people he's encountered in his life, and your behavior and way of thinking never ceases to make him curious. Yet love is a conclusion he cannot asses with certainty.

He had hoped a vivisectionist approach would offer him concrete data, palpable reasoning, but his journey only reinforced that some concepts must be tested outside of pure introspection. Or, as one would describe it colloquially, he has to take the bull by its horns.

"By the way, what meat is this?" You have arranged yourself a platter with a little bit of everything, and just finished chewing a hearty bite. "Ox or something? It's very tender."

If Hannibal is to embark on his expedition of human feelings, he needs to reflect on his choices carefully. Or does he? Hmm. His methodical tactics are what caused this impasse in the first place.

One can afford to give in, every now and then. How will you react to his self indulgence? He rests his head on the back of his intertwined hands and stares at you with a determined look.

"Human."

#hannibal #hannibal lecter #hannibal x reader #hannibal lecter x reader #yandere hannibal lecter #yandere #yandere x reader #tw cannibalism #tw body horror #horror x reader #slasher x reader

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sethsclearwater · 4 months

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Super fluffy request!

With the holidays happening, I've got a request!

Either Thanksgiving or Christmas or something else, but after dinner in the late afternoon/evening, just cuddling up with Seth or Embry (poly or separate) and just quiet talking and cuddling that leads to a nap that someone else sees and thinks it's adorable

so cutie!!

...

"hey pretty thing," embry murmured, knuckling at his eyes sleepily as you came to sit down on the edge of the pull-out couch one of your boyfriends were currently attempting to sleep on, "c'mere," he mumbled, reaching his hands out blindly until he found your hips so he could pull you down to lay next to him.

you giggled as he pulled you close to him, quickly getting you under the blanket he had thrown over his figure, "missed you," he said though his voice was muffled because of the awkward way he had buried his face in the crook of your neck.

you rolled your eyes, already knowing damn well you'd been inseparable from either of your boyfriends for nearly 48 hours now, "missed you too em," you murmured, deciding to go along with his shenanigans while you threaded your fingers through his hair to soothingly scratch at his scalp.

"oh my god-" the voice of your other imprinter came from the doorway of the living room when he spotted you and embry cuddled up on the pull-out couch, "cuddling without me?" seth asked teasingly, laughing when you giggled and held your free hand out to pull him into bed with you and embry.

embry tightened his grip on you as seth laid down on the other side of you, quickly spooning you so the three of you could finally settle down and get comfortable.

the three of you had gone over to emily's for a christmas/holiday celebration and were nearly ready to burst from all the food she had made for the pack and imprintees to try out which is what led to your current situation - a borderline food coma for you, embry, and seth (and pretty much everyone else but they'd managed to sneak off earlier than the three of you so they were already passed out).

"what time do we have to be at your mom's tomorrow?" you asked seth as you rolled back into his chest a bit so you could also thread your fingers through his hair, already knowing he'd be whining about it shortly if you didn't keep it even.

"i think 11," he mumbled, already quickly starting to fall asleep from your stroking and the fatigue from doing so much this morning to help emily get ready for the celebration.

you hummed, "em your mom is still coming right? i haven't seen her in forever," you mused, smiling when embry also hummed in response to your question, offering you a small nod before he went back to drifting off.

a comfortable silence settled over the three of you then, the only sounds on the room coming from both boys' breathing as it slowly evened out and yours following shortly after as you joined them in letting fatigue take over your body.

within a few minutes of you three falling asleep, emily and sam had stepped into the living room to check on everyone and make sure no one was missing, "oh my god," emily let out a breathy laugh when she was the way both seth and embry were cuddled up on you, all three of you now totally passed out on the pull-out couch, "they're the cutest!" she beamed, spinning around to press a quick kiss to sam's lips before she was taking his hand and tugging him upstairs so the two of them could also finally get some much needed sleep.

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frostandflamesfanfic · 1 year

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Recipe for Family (Steve Harrington x Reader)

Recipe for Family (Rated G)

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Word Count: 2.0k

Warnings: None, except tooth-rotting fluff (I was in a mood guys)

Summary: Set Post-ST4. The year is 1990. Everyone has moved on since the events of Vol. 2 and living their lives, Steve more than others. He finally has everything he's ever wanted. Now it's Thanksgiving in Hawkins and he begins to realize more and more about what he's grateful for...and a lot of it has to do with you and the micro-clones you call your family.

“Are we sure that’s everything?”

“Potatoes, cranberry sauce, turkey’s in the oven…I think that’s everything, babe.” Steve’s eyes raked over the rows of platters which were currently littered across the kitchen island. This was one of the first times he could really remember seeing his parents’ kitchen full of this much life and chaos.

Actually, that was a lie.

The first time the Harrington family kitchen at this level of chaos was in the early days of your relationship, when you had first started dating. Steve had mentioned how much he had disliked the holiday season. What point was there to celebrating the holidays if you didn’t have people to share it with? This had evidently been a mistake to tell you, as on the morning of that Thanksgiving, you and Dustin were perched on his doorstep with an abundance of shopping bags and baked goods.

The three of you had spent most of the day together in the kitchen, crafting a holiday meal fit for the whole party. Well, if Steve was being honest, it was more so a duo rather than a trio effort. Dustin had thought it would be helpful to “monitor” your progress by shouting random encouragement from his spot at the island, a bag of chips at his side. Steve couldn’t complain though. It had been one of the best Thanksgivings of his life. He tried so hard to memorize every detail of the day, from the way you shared your grandmother’s secret sweet potato recipe to how many times a stray lock of hair would fall into your eyes.

Now here he was, five years later in the same situation. Except things were a little different now. Thanksgiving was still meant to be shared with his friends, but now everyone had all grown up. The kids he used to babysit were college students now, having just come home to Hawkins for the first time since August. He and Dustin still spoke every chance they had, the young genius being the reason Steve’s phone bill is so damn expensive nowadays. The kid just had to be smart enough to get into Columbia.

Another big change was that Steve now owned his parents’ home. After some protest, they moved out after giving their son the keys and lived in a retirement community just outside of Hawkins. They still don’t talk to him, but that’s okay. He finally came to terms with something truly important: they may have been family by blood, but they weren’t the family that mattered. No, because that was you. . .

. . .and your two daughters: Amelia and Emery.

One year after the chaos of Vecna and the great Hawkins earthquake of ‘86, during your two year anniversary, Steve had finally mustered up the courage to ask you the big question. Proposing seemed a lot easier when he first bought the ring. He planned the whole night: a movie, dinner by candlelight, he even wrote an entire speech. Yet in the heat of the moment, all words simply left him except for those four crucial ones.

He still can’t believe you said yes, not to mention that you gave him two little miracles at once. The twins were three years old now and looking more and more like you every day. However, you still swear that Em has the start of his famous hair and striking hazel eyes. There was nothing Steve loved more than coming home after every long shift to his girls. Every day, without fail, they put the biggest smile on his face as they clung to his leg and held on for dear life as he made exaggerated steps toward you to share a gentle kiss of hello.

“I still feel like we’re missing something,” you mused to yourself as you absentmindedly wiped flour off on your apron. You had been cooking for almost three days straight to make sure that there would be enough food for the stampede of guests arriving in the next few hours. “Did we get the rolls from that bakery Max likes? And the special butter for Will? I know certain dairy bothers his stomach.”

“Babe, relax.” Steve pressed a kiss to your flour-covered cheek. “We have everything. Don’t forget, Robin and Nance are bringing over the green-bean casserole. Jonathan and Will were in charge of the stuffing and Eddie’s bringing over the mulled cider with Argyle.”

“I better not see any weird pineapple covered sides or joints being passed around,” you said with a sigh. Steve watched as your nose scrunched up into that little wrinkle he loved so much. He wished he could lean forward and kiss it off your face entirely, but there were much more important matters at hand. You would certainly kick his ass if he fell behind schedule due to stealing some private time.

Instead, Steve turned his attention to his current challenge: baking the perfect pumpkin pie. “Don’t worry, beautiful,” he tried to soothe as he prepped the pie tin. “Everything is going to be okay. Just head upstairs and get ready. I’ll finish up what’s left.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, now go before I pick you up and drop you in that bedroom myself.”

You smirked. “Is that a threat, Mr. Harrington?”

“No,” he replied. “It’s a promise. Although I can’t promise I’ll be too willing to leave if I have to take you up there myself.” He picked up a nearby dish towel and playfully snapped it in your direction. “Now hurry up. Our guests of honor will be here soon.”

You shook your head with a ghost of a smile, making sure to press a kiss to his lips before you sauntered over to the stairs. Steve rolled his eyes and felt the corner of his own lips pull up into a smirk as you purposefully swayed your hips when taking the first stair.

As he rolled out the final pie crust on the calendar, Steve felt a squeeze around his right leg. Looking down, he caught sight of messy sun-kissed chocolate ringlets and big hazel eyes that shone as bright as stars. “Daddyyyyyy,” came the high-pitched and dramatic cry from his daughter. “When can you pway?”

Steve chuckled. “Soon baby, okay?” He reassured her with a warm smile. “Daddy has to finish making these pies. Why don’t you go and make a card for Uncle Dustin with Amy?” He gestured to the living room, where her lighter-haired sister was happily scribbling atop the paper on the coffee table, eyes glued to the television before her.

His mini-doppelganger gave a huff of indignation far too mature for any five-year-old girl. “But ‘wan play wiff you!”

“Soon, Em. I promise. Daddy just needs to finish the pies.”

Emery tilted her head and Steve had to fight the urge to push back a loose strand of her hair back with flour covered fingers. She appeared to be contemplating something, raising a tiny index finger to her lower lip in thought. The action reminded Steve of you and how you’d nervously play with or bite your lips when deep in thought. “Can I helps?”

A warmth blossomed in Steve’s heart and flooded his entire body. He felt the smile which toyed on his lips threaten to split his face in half. His daughter was asking to help him with something; he could teach her something. “Of course, sweetheart,” he mused. “Now let’s wash those hands before we put the crust in the tin, okay?”

One singing of “happy birthday” and cloud of flour later, Steve held Em’s tiny hands in his own as they pressed the pie dough into the tin together. She was standing on the step-stool the two of you decided to buy early on. It was a preparation purchase for when the girls were a bit older and you wanted to encourage them to do things themselves. The fact that his three-year-old– his very own daughter– was standing in front of him using the steps shocked Steve to the core. This little person was someone he helped to create. She was growing up a little more every single day and it amazed him that this could happen with someone so tiny.

He watched as she stuck her tongue out in concentration when stabbing the dough bottom with a fork. It was only meant to get the air pockets out of the crust, but to young Emery, it was a life or death mission. After they pre-baked the crust, Steve let Em mix up the bowl of pumpkin filling…and maybe be the unofficial taste tester. Someone had to make sure it passed inspection, right?

“WAIT!” Em screeched as Steve reached over her head to pick up the tin to put it in the oven once they finished scooping the filling. He smiled in confusion as she reached over to stick her finger in the filling and dragged it through.

“What are you doing, sweetheart?” he asked.

“Uncwe Will says a good artist always signs theiwe work!” Em answered proudly. She leaned back slightly once she was done, tiny index finger pointing to the squiggles now etched in the pie. “Emewy…and Daddy!”

Steve could have melted into a puddle right then and there if he could.

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

Nothing could have prepared Steve when he saw you come down the stairs a few hours later. While he had dressed up in a navy button down and slacks, you had somehow transformed into a work of art. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you as you moved from setting the table to adjusting the pigtails you put in Amy’s hair. God, how did he ever get so lucky?

When you finally caught his stare, you smiled and walked over in his direction. “Hey there, handsome,” you quipped. “What’s captured your attention?”

“You,” came the smooth reply. “Always you. Can’t believe I got so lucky."

“I think,” you started as you smoothed out the collar of his shirt, “that I’m the lucky one.”

Before he could say more, guests began arriving and the rest of the night sped by in a blur. The Harrington household was filled with the sounds of laughter and silverware tapping against plates. Eddie and Dustin caught up with Mike and Lucas, lamenting about the various adventures of their Dungeons and Dragons groups. They had planned to get the rest of Hellfire to complete some kind of oneshot over the break, but Steve lost the ability to understand what they were talking about somewhere around the introduction of the land of Frotsgaard.

You were catching up with Nancy and Robin, who had moved out to New York to focus on their education and careers. After graduation, Nancy started work as a cub reporter for the New York Times, whereas Robin decided to study theater and English at NYU. They had just gotten a small apartment near 8th Ave that they absolutely couldn’t wait to decorate. Robin was already talking about Christmas trees, much to Nancy’s chagrin.

Em was practically bursting at the seams to talk about her pumpkin pie that she had baked with Steve. She told everyone about her design and proudly showed off her signature to Will, who grinned and ruffled her hair. He called her a natural artist, which only made her squeal with happiness more. Amy took that as an opportunity to show off her latest drawing to Dustin, who promised to hang it up in his dorm as soon as he got back.

At one point in the evening, Steve reached over to tuck a stray hair behind your ear and kiss your temple. He brought his chair closer and wrapped an arm around your waist. As Robin continued to describe her latest class in a very animated fashion, he could feel you relax in his hold. He pressed another kiss against your skin, this time against the corner of your mouth. “I love you,” he whispered in your ear.

This was all he truly needed.

Growing up, the holidays may not have been anything special for Steve. He would have traded anything to have a kinder family, to have parents that cared. But with the family he has now? The love he found with you, the happiness he feels with your girls? He wouldn’t change that for the world. For once in his life, Steve spent Thanksgiving happy and actually thankful for those in his life.

And that’s all he could ever ask for.

======================

Author's Note: To my American readers, happy thanksgiving! I'm actually surprised I was able to draft and write this idea just in time for the holiday. In all, this took me about 3 hours to write and format. As you can tell, I am still head over heels for domestic Steve Harrington, especially dad!Steve. I had this idea and just knew it needed to be written down. I hope to write more dad!Steve in the future because his interactions with little Em are just precious.

If you want to see more fics like this on my blog, make sure to drop a comment and reblog this post. Likes are appreciated, but it's the reblogs that really help spread the word about my writing and send the happy emotion chemicals into my singular brain cell. Want to join my taglist? Shoot me a message, an ask, or even reply to this post and I'll be sure to tag you! :)

Finally, if you have ideas for dad!Steve, send me your thoughts and maybe I'll have the motivation to craft a fic from it. Either way, I'll definitely be responding and sharing the love for our guy. Until next time, my lovely sparks! <3

Taglist: @bakerstreethound

#steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington imagine #steve x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader #gender neutral reader #dad!steve harrington #thanksgiving fic #stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #frostandflamesfanfic #joe keery #joe keery imagines

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themultiverseheroines · 5 months

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Open Thanksgiving Fandom RP (to all fandoms)

"Awesome work, love. I'm glad we got this mission done quickly. It means we can now go back home and get things ready for our Thanksgiving dinner party," said Lena Oxton aka Tracer as she flew the vehicle back to headquarters.

"I hope you'll be ready for it. Winston makes the best pies and knows how to cook the turkey to be absolutely delicious," said Tracer towards your muse as she got excited with eating the food with her girlfriend, Emily.

#open rp #open #open starter #open to all #open to everyone #rp #open to all fandom #open fandom #open video game #open video game rp #fandom #fandom rp #video game #video game rp #overwatch #tracer #lena oxton #overwatch tracer

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wheredidhiseyebrowsgo · 1 year

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Fa-la-la-la laaaa!

It's that time. I hope you know that I care about you and whatever you celebrate or don't I have a gift for you! Family can be really great but it can also be soul crushing. Just remember your found family is equally important and I consider you all my tumblr fandom family. Don't let them get you down. Escape into fic when you need a break!

(I asked for Turkey day fics and only got a few, so I thought I'd just include them in the Holiday fics list. I've done this a few years, so you can check out the Holiday tag for more.)

Anon

Not Quite Lost (Not Quite Found) by alocalband

(1/1 I 25,025 I Explicit I Sterek)

A year after the nogitsune is defeated, Derek is living a quiet life in the mountains above a small town in Colorado.

Then Stiles shows up.

@hokee101

can't be hateful, gotta be grateful by HalfFizzbin

(1/1 I 6,260 I Teen I Sterek)

"Be cool, Dad, we've decided to con Grandma."

(Or, the one where the Stilinski men drag Derek to Thanksgiving dinner at Grandma's and she gets the right wrong idea.)

Pack is Pack, No Matter How Far by HappyJuicyfruit

(1/1 I 9,927 I Teen I Sterek)

Derek tries to deal with his pack moving away for college. Stiles helps (a lot).

Filter Out the Starlight by skoosiepants

(1/1 I 12,238 I Teen I Sterek)

“Why are you not more curious about me?” Stiles says when Derek’s got the door half open, sun spilling over the dark wood, dust motes spinning about his legs. Stiles is wearing fabric that hasn’t been invented yet, he’s clutching a smart phone to his chest, and he appeared out of nowhere, like an angel.

Softly, Derek says, “We all have our secrets,” and closes the door.

Or-

A heartbroken Stiles accidentally travels back in time to find his one true love. A harlequin-ish Christmas romance.

Cupboard Love by mklutz

(2/2 I 32,286 I General I Sterek)

He’s carefully balancing the sandwiches and the two biggest tupperware containers he could find that both had functioning lids when the front door opens and he almost drops everything right there in front of the stupid fountain.

If that’s Derek Hale, he’s definitely not a mountain man.

A Hale for the Holidays by rlnerdgirl

(1/1 I 38,095 I Explicit I Sterek)

“I sent you a Christmas card that got sent back to me. Did you get a new apartment?” his dad wonders. The question is all suspicion and little anything else.

A flicker of an idea sparks. It’s not nearly formed well enough for him to say, “Yeah, actually,” and when he follows that with, “I moved in with someone,” he wants to punch himself in the face. He’s living with someone?!

“You’re living with someone?” It’s the same voice and tone as the one in Stiles’ head, just thirty years older.

Two things keep Stiles from bashing his face onto the table: there’s a steaming cup of coffee in the way and, more importantly, his dad will definitely hear. Someone passes by in front of him and a semi-familiar book cover catches his eye. “Derek Hale,” he muses, and stops. No. That wasn’t meant to be out loud.

Three Marks by sanam

(8/8 I 113,736 I Mature I Sterek)

"And then there was pain again, but this time it was in only three places—his arm, below his clavicle, and next to his heart, all on the left side. It felt like the skin was being sliced apart, ripped open, flayed off— And suddenly it was done. Derek looked across the room and saw the boy on the floor, looking about as bad as Derek felt."

Derek and Stiles learn that bonding is probably best done with ridiculous amounts of video games and maybe a little bit of time.

Come Light A Candle With Me by HappyJuicyfruit

(1/1 I 1,804 I General I Sterek)

Derek celebrates Hanukkah with Stiles.

My World Is Filled With Cheer And You by bleep0bleep

(1/1 I 10,832 I Teen I Sterek)

“It was a last minute decision. Single parents with children draw attention to themselves in this type of neighborhood, and this department didn’t have a big budget to relocate all the werewolf and werewolf sympathizers that were targeted on this list. We’ve combined a lot of our relocation assignments. It ended up working out that another family, Mr. Stilinski and his son, looked like a good fit for you guys, so you’ll be sharing a home with them for the time being.” Markowski grins at him. “Congratulations! You’re married!”

In which Derek and his daughter are displaced just in time for the holidays, matched up with Stiles and his young son in a government protection program.

#teen wolf #sterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #holidays #anastasia review #submssion

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chadillacboseman · 22 days

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15 Lines Game

Rules: Share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture their character/personality/vibe. Bonus points for just using the dialogue without other details about the scene, but you’re free to include those as well.

I was tagged by @thesingularityseries

"Kate, please, I can't do this without you," he choked back a sob. She wasn't moving.

"...Because I wanna know what to do next?" Alex answered, bemused.

"Now, are you going to tell me what you're looking for? Or do you prefer examining every crate individually?"

"Made of metal?" Alex cocks an eyebrow, "Looks like a big D10 from Dungeons and Dragons?"

"And what right did you have?" Alex snarled, slamming his fist on the table and setting off a small chain of detonations across the wood, "what right did you have to make that decision for me?"

"Probably something that fires lasers or turns complaining cowboys into stone," Alex mused from behind them.

"Kate, no!" Alex shouted, but it was too late.

"Holy shit-" Alex nearly rises from his seat and Kate gives him another quizzical look, "Holy shit!"

"Don't talk," Alex cradled her head, hands hovering over the growing bloom of red on her chest, "It's gonna be okay."

"I'm fine. Just...deja vu I guess."

"Fucking hell," Alex glanced up at the now expired light with a start and made a note to tell Kano that it needed to be fixed.

"A Hellcat. Blacked out. Zero to a hundred in 3 seconds flat."

"You ready to get pummeled, Carver?" Alex sneers and Danny scoffs.

"Gunpowder drawer?" he asks as he gestures to the stain.

"It's not funny!" Alex snarls, but it only makes Kabal laugh harder.

"C'mon, I know you can hit harder than that," JJ urges; a small trickle of blood runs down his chin from the corner of his mouth, and his teeth are red when he smiles.

“Brand new fuckin’ jacket,” JJ grumbles as he shucks the garment and pulls it taut between his hands.

"In my truck," JJ loves to push her buttons whenever he can.

"Twenty minutes," he muses, "ten if I speed."

“Don’t worry, they’re finishing up,” JJ watches as the drunker of the two men stomps out his cigarette and the other follows suit before the two of them sway off back to the bar.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” JJ waves his hand dismissively, “Arm’s length.”

"My men are never 'just business', Jason," JJ feels a white hot surge of anger sear through his chest.

“It’s alright,” he finally offers, “You can go,” he jerks his head toward the passenger door for emphasis.

"You never did know when to shut the fuck up"

"Tip of the spear, edge of the knife. We go in hot and loud, and we make these fuckers pay for every one of ours they put in the ground. Understood?"

"Switch to 105 Mike-Mike, take out those Jeeps."

"Rog. Falcon is pulling out, we'll see you on the ground," JJ makes his way to the cockpit once more and turns to face the crew, "Good work, boys. We'll be back in time for dinner."

"Now there is a face I could never forget."

"Do Black Dragon mercs?" JJ shoots back and she smirks, "Thought you folks had your own bar?"

"Hell nah, I was saving it. For a special occasion. Glad I didn't wait to break it out at Thanksgiving."

#kate features very heavily lmao #oc alex #oc jj #mortal kombat ocs

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madmanwonder · 5 months

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(Prompt, Original AU, Crossover AU) (Fusion AU) Weiss brings Shallot over for Thanksgiving dinner, meeting her family...and demonstrating his abysmal table manners. (Thanksgiving)

Weiss mused in the back of her mind, that she didn't think this one through. How she thought she would brings Shallot over for Thanksgiving Dinner, meeting her family (san her father who's in jail thanks to few close friends) and hope they will love him in spite of his cavemen-like behavior...

MUNCH! MUNCH! MUNCH! MUNCH! MUNCH! MUNCH!

Weiss stare at her paramour along with Winter, Whitley and Willow who was looking on in mixture of awe, shock, and digust as they saw the youthful-but-ancient saiyan eating up his food with gluttonous delight...and abysmal tabble manners that made them look green in the face.

Whitley the youngest of the Schnee sibling turned his icy blue eyes on his older sister. A deadpan look on his sharp, aristocratic face.

"This...This is the man you call your paramour, dear sister?" He snarky asked his older sister who in response was to face-palmed in shame and anger.

"Even Ragna have better table mannerism than him." Winter comment in disgust as she unable to look away at the savage eating machine.

Willow eyed her daughter with mixture of sardonic amusement. "I do hope he got his other good quality to him or you and I going to have a long talk about your paramour, young lady." Willow comment with a deadpan smile.

#rwby #rwby shitpost #weiss schnee #willow schnee #whitley schnee #winter schnee #fusion au #crossover fusion au #fusion au prompt #crossover fusion au prompt #crossover au #crossover au prompt #thanksgiving #ancient snow #crossover ship #crossover shitpost

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butmakeitgayblog · 8 months

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What was the last date AWTR clexa had where they went out together? Did they keep making excuses to prolong their time out because they didn't want their night to end just yet since the small thought in their head told them that this would be it

Their last date out together was a dinner date at a nice restaurant in town. Got dressed up all fancy - Lexa in her little navy blue suit she was so excited to buy but never had an excuse to wear before, Clarke in a simple white and blue dress to match without looking like they were trying too hard, ya know.

It was in the lull time after Thanksgiving but before the craziness of Christmas had truly hit, before they had to deal with the onslaught of Clarke's family and their friends trying to pull them in a thousand directions. When everything was cold and the leaves had long since given up their fire and died away, but before the snow of winter had a chance to start falling in earnest. It was just an excuse to go enjoy each other's company, still riding high on the bliss of being new wives, and still pretending they had a whole life stretched out before them. Lexa was still doing... fairly well then. Things were ok. A lot of days she could still muscle through.

Clarke got them tickets to this upscale little dinner and theater place in the city that had the ambience of an old speakeasy. The kind she had to triple check the scrap of paper that her password had been scribbled on just so they could get inside and actually make their reservation. They ate steaks and sipped on tumblers of a mid-shelf smokey bourbon, holding hands under the table while watching an interesting rendition of this underground 'Guys and Dolls'.

Though admittedly, Clarke spent most of the evening watching her wife silently sing along to all the songs instead.

The walk back to the car felt like being inside of a dream. Like whole world had collapsed in around them until it was nothing but the crisp air in her lungs and Lexa's jacket draped over her shoulders, the feel of Lexa's arm wrapped loose around her waist.

They drove out to the pond like they always did whenever they managed to sneak away. Fooled around in the backseat until the windows fogged up, juat to make up for all the lost time when they had been teenagers. Sensibly. Although Clarke muses that if they'd been doing this back then, she would've had them breaking curfew every day. It's only when the sky starts lighten and the birds signal a new day that they head back home and sneak into their bed.

They didn't know - had no way of knowing - that Lexa would never feel well enough to do it again.

But overall, when Clarke looks back on that night, it was a pretty wonderful last date...

#heda in the clouds #a walk to remember au #AWTR synopsis

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astrronomemes · 5 months

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Send 🍲 for our muses to cook Thanksgiving dinner together!

#rp meme #roleplay meme #rp prompt #roleplay prompt #inbox meme #inbox prompt #askbox meme #ask meme #askbox prompt #ask prompt #roleplay memes #rp memes #rp prompts #roleplay prompts

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enoriver1989 · 10 months

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Is "Call It What You Want" about Lily?

Who is Lily? Lily Donaldson is an English model born in London. She has also lived in New York with an apartment in the East Village. I believe she could be the muse for Taylor Swift’s song, “Call It What You Want” (and many other songs, too).

Disclaimer: I do not know who any song by Taylor Swift is really about, and this is just a fun theory based on lyrics and publicly available photos and information. People are free to interpret songs in different ways, and a song’s meaning is always so much bigger than trying to decipher which “muse” it may or may not be about. Again, this is just for fun.

Credit: I used a lot of information from the blog Tily Nation to help in making this post, and it is a great resource for more information about Taylor and Lily if you are curious.

“My castle crumbled overnight” “All the liars are calling me one”

I think these lyrics indicate that the song is describing a time period sometime after July 2016, when Taylor Swift’s public reputation was negatively affected by events related to a recorded phone call with Kanye West, leading to the hashtag #TaylorSwiftIsOverParty trending, and people calling her a snake. Taylor shared a diary entry from August 29, 2016: “This summer is the apocalypse.” I think the US presidential election in November 2016 may have also contributed to Taylor’s decision to “run away” and hide from public view at that time (“nobody’s heard from me for months.”)

Taylor appears to start spending more time with Lily Donaldson in October 2016, although they were friends or at least acquaintances long before that. On Halloween, Taylor celebrated with Lily and other friends at her Cornelia Street apartment, and Lily was photographed leaving Taylor's apartment the next morning (Nov. 1).

On November 24, 2016, Lily spent Thanksgiving with Taylor, Taylor’s family, and a few other friends in Rhode Island. Lily sat next to Taylor at the dinner table (between Taylor and her dad). Earlier that day, Taylor drove Lily around in a car and acted flirty, and Lily posted a snapchat with the caption “My Uber driver is so pretty.”

“I recall late November / Holdin’ my breath, slowly I said / You don’t need to save me / But would you run away with me?”

I believe Taylor may have asked Lily to “run away with” her to England in late November. It seems that Taylor started renting a home near London in December 2016. She celebrated her birthday on Dec. 13 with a cake confirmed to be made by Hummingbird Bakery in London. Taylor and Lily also made sweet birthday posts for each other around this time: Dec. 13, 2016 and Jan. 27, 2017.

On Jan. 3, 2017, Taylor wrote in the Lover Diary that she was “essentially based in England” and had been together with a secret lover for three months without anyone finding out. I believe she could be referring to October, November, and December 2016 with Lily. Taylor indicates that she’s worried about people finding out and wants to keep the relationship private in order to protect it, but that she is happy.

In a scene from Miss Americana, Taylor appears to sing the song Call It What You Want from inside her rental home in England, and a woman's voice (that sounds different from Taylor's) sings "I did one thing right" while laughing, as Taylor lifts her foot into the air as if to point to the person she is singing to. Taylor also drives on the left side of the road in another scene, suggesting they are in England.

In the film, Taylor says, “I was falling in love with someone who had a really wonderfully normal, balanced, grounded, life, and we decided together that we wanted our relationship to be private.” This interview with Lily describes her as someone who has a “healthy work/life balance”, who is private and introverted and is not interested in sharing much of her life on social media. Taylor's lyrics describe her lover as someone who stays above the fray of public opinion during a difficult time in her life.

"My baby's fly like a jetstream / High above the whole scene"

Taylor’s instagram story (in which she plays Call It What You Want) shows photos of her riding a horse and painting on a canvas.

Some of Taylor’s paintings were in the reputation magazine with lyrics as captions, and in this video Taylor says that she’s “painting about her feelings.” Lily has a passion for riding horses and oil painting (she wanted to go to art school before she became a model).

In conclusion, I think Lily could be the muse for “Call It What You Want,” and other songs by Taylor Swift in the reputation era and onward. I believe their relationship may have started in late 2016 and ended sometime in 2019. If you want to learn more, again, the blog Tily Nation is a great resource! And if you think the song is inspired by a different muse or if you just enjoy the music and don’t care who a song is about, that’s cool, too. This is just a fun theory.

#gaylor #gaylor swift #lgbetty #tily #reputation #call it what you want #taylor swift

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cardcaptorsakura96 · 5 months

Text

Everything All At Once

Fandom: Supergirl

Characters: Lena Luthor, Kara Danvers, Lillian Luthor, Alexa Luthor-Danvers, Liza Luthor-Danvers

Summary: Lena and Kara agree to bring their children over to Lillian's house for Halloween. However, they don't realize that Lillian has a few surprises up her sleeve.

This is for Day 5 of Fluffcember

Lena finished putting on the final touch on her outfit, a pointed black hat. She turned towards the mirror and smiled. Accompanying her black hat, she was wearing a black dress and black high-heeled boots.

“Now all I need is a broom and I will be ready to go,” mused Lena as she took a final look at herself in the mirror.

She headed to the kitchen but stopped when she saw Kara pouting on the living room couch in her black cat costume. She sighed and made a beeline for her.

“Is this really how you are going to be the rest of the night?”

Her wife looked up at her with her pout more pronounced. It almost made her feel guilty. Almost.

“That pout isn’t going to get you out of this dinner. We are all going.”

“Can I at least wear the costume I want?”

“As long as it is not your Supergirl outfit, I don’t care what you wear.”

Kara went from pouting to sulking with her arms crossed.

“I don’t see the harm in wearing it,” muttered Kara.

Lena stared at her wife sternly with her hands on her hips.

“If you can look me in the eye and tell me that you are not wearing the outfit as a form of intimidation, I will let you put it on right now.”

Kara looked away from her and pouted more.

“I thought so. You realize that our three-year-old twins are acting more mature than you. They are excited for tonight.”

“But do we really have to spend Halloween with her of all days? Isn’t there another day we can hang out with her?” sulked Kara.

Lena sighed and shook her head.

“My mom has been giving hints over the years that she wanted to spend a holiday with us. She didn’t care which one. I understand you not wanting to give up Christmas or Thanksgiving, but you have come up with an excuse every single year.”

“No, I haven’t.”

“You said that we couldn’t spend Easter with her because it is a holy day and we shouldn’t spend it with someone that is pure evil….”

“Which is true.”

“Valentine's Day we couldn’t do because it was for spending time with your loved ones…”

“Like anyone loves her in this house.”

“You even nixed Labor Day because you believe she wouldn’t understand what a hard day’s work meant.”

“You’re mom has things done for her by assistants. Do you really believe that she understood what the labor movement was?

Lena sat down and took her wife’s hands in hers and said, “I know spending the evening with my mother is the last thing you want to do, but she is trying. The fact alone that she is willing to spend Halloween with us is very telling.”

Kara looked at her quizzically and asked, “Why?”

“Lex and I often thought that something bad must of happened to her on Halloween as a child. We were not allowed to mention the word in our house. She always made sure she was out of town on that day.”

“Interesting….”

“Please don’t go getting ideas.”

“Fine,” said Kara rolling her eyes.

Lena put her arms around Kara and kissed her cheek.

“I promise that if you can be civil towards my mom for the rest of tonight, you will be getting an extra special treat tonight.”

Kara started kissing her wife’s neck and said, “You should have started with that first.”

“We really should be leaving if we don’t want to be late,” moaned Lena.

Kara moved so that was on top of Lena and kissed her deeply.

“We can afford to be a little late,” smirked Kara.

They kissed for a couple of minutes until they heard the loud sound of little footsteps heading towards them. Kara quickly got off of Lena and Lena tried to readjust her dress. The twins ran into the room and pounced on Lena and Kara on the couch. Lena smiled at the outfits she picked out for the girls. Liza was a pumpkin and Alexa was candy corn.

“When are we going to Grandma’s house?” asked Liza.

“She said that she would have loads of candy,” smiled Alexa.

“We are leaving now. Mommy just needs to get her broom,” said Lena.

The couple gathered the twins and their things and headed off to their holiday adventure.

Read the rest on AO3

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redlegumes · 5 months

Text

If it's just till St. Patrick's Day: Excerpt from Thanksgiving

Chapter Summary:

An orphan Thanksgiving with their strange family. Steve reveals some new secrets to Eddie. Steve proposes a new arrangement for the holidays which they start. After Thanksgiving, Eddie offers Steve his support. Can be read stand-alone

"They’re just hookups though. Steve put his pants on after and left after. I shouldn’t, agh. That sounds so cold. It hasn’t been that cold. But it’s definitely a ‘friend with benefits vibe.’ Though… Eddie mused, our friendship was always odd too. Forged in supernatural hell. Now that the supernatural hell was gone, he had kinda worried how long their little trauma family would hold on. But here they mostly were, in November, still maintaining various group chats, hanging, and celebrating holidays."

Complete tags and finished fic on A03

CW: Smut, Closeted trans character, Tobacco use, Mentions of (not overtly detailed)- alcohol use, past physical abuse parents, family transphobia, disownment

( 〃● ₃● ) ~ 🍁🍂 🧡EXPLICIT CONTENT AFTER THE CUT 🧡🍂🍁

"Who knows what will be, But I'll make you this guarantee, No way November will see our goodbye"

Mrs. Henderson had set out a big spread. She was hosting a bit of an Orphan Thanksgiving for the ‘family.’ Not everyone was around, Nancy wouldn't be back from Boston till Winter break and Robin was off visiting family in Ohio, but those who were tried to make the Henderson house’s gracious invitation to eat there. Mrs. Henderson apparently hadn’t wanted to travel to see her family that year. She’d bought such a big bird, and said it seemed a shame for just her and Dustin to enjoy it.

Eddie learned all this from Dustin, surprised he made the cut for invites. It was still a big group making time for the evening meal. He and Wayne never did much for the holiday, normally turkey frozen dinners, football (that he didn’t watch), and cheap beer. So after a quick check-in text, he said yes.

Hopper and Joyce Byers were in, which included Will, El, and Max. Jonathan was in school for photography now, but he was coming in from Chicago. Mike got permission, as well as Lucas since his family was having their meal closer to lunch. Family was staying with the Sinclairs that week, and his house was going to be packed. Lucas practically begged for a break from his cousins that would be sharing his room over the holiday.

…

Turkey day arrived, and Eddie spent the beginning of the day hanging with Wayne, just catching up. He drove over afterwards to Henderson’s, feeling a little bashful that he was the last to arrive, the others showing up early to help cook and prep the table. The food was plentiful and damn close to the commercials and movies Eddie’d seen when he was a kid. So this is Thanksgiving. Wild.

He even assumed their ‘family’ followed the classic tropes. Before the meal was set out, he and Jonathan took a little ‘walk’ to wet their appetite. The kids mostly bickered and ran around, some watching the game, others watching a stream in Dustin’s room. Eddie hadn’t expected Harrington there, but then he remembered he had picked up Mike and Lucas. For some reason he kind of just assumed he’d drive off after, to his own Thanksgiving. If this was a regular one Eddie could only imagine a rich people version of the holiday.

…

After the meal, Eddie volunteered for dish duty. It only seemed right since he hadn’t done any of the prep. Steve joined him. Most everyone else had relocated into the living room where a game of Mario Kart had been agreed on. Based on the yelling and the huddle around in front of the tv, it appeared as if the game was in full swing.

Mrs. Henderson wandered over with a shot of brandy for the adults. She patted his cheek and then Steve’s before handing them two little glasses. She delivered some platitudes about it being the holidays and moved on to the next room.

He and Steve exchanged shrugs and grins before turning back to the last pots and pans. Steve knocked his brandy back once they finished washing; Eddie'd waited to follow suit. Steve had hopped up to sit on the countertop. He looked good. Maybe it was just that extrovert glow. Or maybe it's because he's one-on-one with me for the first time this evening.

They'd talked since Halloween. Mostly flirting over texts, which wasn't too new, but things had gotten… perhaps… maybe… just a teensy bit more complicated. Steve had been over to his twice now without booze and slutty costumes to provide an easy excuse for ‘bad’ behavior. They'd done the dirty on a total of three occasions at this point and each time it had been good. We both got off. Hell, more than just getting off. Recalling Steve, fucking him on his bed, instantly made Eddie’s cheeks red.

They’re just hookups though. Steve put his pants on after and left after. I shouldn’t, agh. That sounds so cold. It hasn’t been that cold. But it’s definitely a ‘friend with benefits vibe.’ Though… Eddie mused, our friendship was always odd too. Forged in supernatural hell. Now that the supernatural hell was gone, he had kinda worried how long their little trauma family would hold on. But here they mostly were, in November, still maintaining various group chats, hanging, and celebrating holidays.

Eddie had sat down in a kitchen chair, broken from his thoughts by the tap of Steve's foot on his knee.

"Eddie."

"Yeah?"

Steve’s volume was low, but the house had gotten so noisy Eddie doubted anyone could hear their conversation. "I was just saying it's cuffing season. Look, I’d, ah… I’m good with hooking up for the holidays."

Eddie felt himself do the double take. "What?"

"I know you heard me that time."

"Yeah, but cuffing is a little more than just fucking." Eddie gazed up at Steve, still somehow cool and calm above him. Eddie wanted to run a hand through his hair but he'd tied it up. He settled for picking at a fraying rip on his jeans. Cuffing… that’s practically. Nope. Not even gonna think it.

"We could keep it casual but exclusive. You do like it don’t you? That way we could do fewer barriers. It’s fun, Munson. Been real fun. So, let’s keep it going." Steve winked at him. No no. I am the winker. I’m the bad boy here. Who does he think he is? "I want more, but I like a little structure. And if true love shows up in between for either of us, we break it off. No hurt feelings."

"No hurt feelings? We’re just above tolerating each other as it is." Aren't we? I'm always teasing and pushing. Well, is that it? Is he finally pushing back? What's it gonna be, Munson, he asked himself. Take him seriously or… nah. Obviously more teasing. "Former fuckboy."

Steve snorted. "E-girl wannabe."

"Fantasy footballer.” Eddie stuck his tongue out. “Best you can do, without enough skill for a scholarship."

"Shows what you know. I still didn’t have enough cash to go to State, even with the scholarship."

Why lie about that? "That’s fucking bullshit. You’re a ‘Harrington,’ as in Harrington Law Offices with that, y'know. The awful jingle on the radio." Eddie snapped his fingers but couldn't remember it.

Steve’s face soured, and he slid off the countertop. "Disowned."

Okay. That. That I couldn’t have heard right. "Steve. Wait. What?"

Steve looked at him as though calculations were running through his head. "Not here," he jerked his chin out toward the backyard.

Eddie flicked the light on as they walked out. As soon as the door shut he launched what felt like the first of a few million questions he had. "Since when? Also who knows? And Steve, we can fill out a fucking FAFSA for you. Why not? You can still go to college, man."

Steve stuck his hands in his pockets and jumped a bit in place as though he'd experienced a chill. It wasn’t that cold outside, considering the time of year. "You got smokes on you,” Steve asked instead of answering one of Eddie’s many questions.

Eddie patted his pockets. "Fuck. The pack's in the van."

"That's fine." It didn't look fine. Steve rocked on his feet.

"You sure?"

"I wanted to go on HRT." Steve said, suddenly focused on his Adidas. "I wanted to transition."

Eddie looked over Steve. To his eye nothing had changed. His hair was a little long, but it wasn't as long as Eddie's. He knew Steve shaved all the time, but that was explained as a holdover from his swimming days, and of course now he knew how some of Steve's partners probably liked that but… trans? Eddie knew better. He already felt shitty for ‘looking’ for clues. It didn't matter how Steve presented now. If the 'he' wasn't good for him, she should be able to be a her.

Steve was nervously rambling a little. "Yeah, I won't exactly be treating you to too much if we do hook-up for the holidays. Why did you think I was here and not with my bio family anyway? Family?" He muttered, "this is what I’ve got."

“You want to transition." Eddie hated the disbelief betrayed in his tone as he made the statement. That’s not what he, she? he? needs from me right now. Fuck. Why'd he say wanted? Past-tense. What the hell happened?

Steve finally looked up and met Eddie's eyes. "I did. End of high school, I spoke to my doctor about it and was trying to start shifting the way I present, just a little and… And then I told them… Bye bye insurance, home, financing for college. I would have had to take out too much in personal loans." Steve had turned away from Eddie, head thrown back as he stared at the visible stars above them. "I didn't qualify for financial aid when I was with my folks. Luckily, the car was in my name, so I got to keep that. But… I was homeless for a little and…" Eddie walked around to Steve's front, an urgent need to be in his space. "I mean, I got out with a duffle bag."

Steve's hand went to his face in a gesture Eddie recognized. If he thought of his past battles or his losses, Steve always had to check his face to make sure the cuts had healed and the bruising had gone away. It 'grounded' him, Robin had once said.

That motion with that story. "They didn't," Eddie gasped. He held the hand on Steve's face with his own, gripping Steve's waist with the other.

Steve's big eyes met Eddie's. He whispered, "I can take a hit."

Eddie's eyes raked over Steve's face. He held him a little tighter. "You can dish ‘em out too."

"Not in that moment." Steve chuckled, and he let his hand leave his face. He shifted it to hold Eddie's hand and shrugged. "That's what he wanted. Restraining order with an assault charge strapped to it. Make things a lot easier to explain versus, 'I disowned my son because he was trying to be my daughter.' Easier for others to digest. Though, I guess they say whatever they want about me now." He shared the last piece of information as though he was contemplating it for the first time.

"Steve." Eddie dropped his hand and flung his arms around him, holding him as tightly as he dared. "I can't believe… this whole time you’ve been on your own like that. Who else knows? Why? You've never said."

Steve pulled back a bit to shake his head. "Eddie, you know why."

Because he would've had to have said why they did it. Explained. Eddie looked hard at Steve's saddened but resigned face. He thinks his plans for his future, including transitioning, died that night. Jesus Fucking Christ.

"Robin knows about everything. Dustin knows something happened and about my apartment. Hopper probably knows that I'm cut off and living independently, but he was a detective basically so..." Steve sighed, and Eddie watched him brace, as if he was waiting for some sort of rejection. "Now you know everything too," he said softly.

Eddie looked at Steve’s big eyes glistening magically like they did, even under the poor strength flood light in Dustin Henderson's backyard. Guess I was always kinda right. Eddie had privately believed that eyes so starry and big could only exist due to princess powers. His heart broke for the sweet princess in his arms. He couldn’t help but be reminded, standing in each other’s embrace, that Steve was very, very pretty.

He kissed him, and, at first, Steve tensed. Then he relaxed in Eddie’s hold, letting him kiss deeper. Steve’s lips were just as welcoming and sweet as the last time they’d kissed. Okay… Eddie had made a decision. I want this.

He let them part, stifling a little moan when he did. "’Cuffed’ or ‘exclusively hooking-up’ so shit isn’t so bleak with all that holiday Hallmark crap plastered everywhere. Whichever, whatever. I'm in. Okay?"

Steve bit his bottom lip and then ran a hand up the side of Eddie's neck. "Okay," he whispered back. They kissed again till Steve got anxious that someone might come out to get them.

Eddie felt as though he couldn't care less, but there was pie waiting inside to be considered.

…

"How's the apprenticeship going," Hopper asked.

Eddie was moments from taking a huge bite of pumpkin pie, but he set it down to answer Hopper. "It's fine, and no nights. So, in theory, I could gig again when I want to."

"You with a wrench seems like a menacing image," Hopper replied. Eddie knew him well enough now to know when he was fucking with him. He stuck his tongue out and went back to his pie. The mechanic apprenticeship was going well, they paid him to learn a trade. All in all, a good deal from where Eddie was sitting.

Dustin piped up. "You should see him with a guitar."

"Will you play some tonight," Mike asked.

There was a general begging from the table, and Steve appeared at his shoulder. He held out Eddie's keys that had been in his jacket pocket and dropped them in his lap. "He'll play. There's always a guitar in the van."

He knows me too well. "Fine. Yes, but a total of three requests only! And then whatever I want until I get tired. So you better get to brainstorming."

He returned with the guitar to find the family had split into teams.

Hopper, Joyce, and Mrs. Henderson requested 'Alice's Restaurant.' Eddie played a few rounds of the chorus for them. He didn't know the whole thing and didn't want to try. It was a goddamn long 'song.' His boys and Jonathan requested 'Hellraiser' next 'cause they were good like that. After came Steve, crouched on the rug between El and Max. He smiled wickedly up at Eddie.

"Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go."

"No," Eddie said firmly.

"Yes," hissed his traitorous audience.

But they cheered and he relented. Damn my vanity.

Steve watched intently when Eddie played. Even now, settled between the girls, he knew there was that spark between them as Steve watched him perform. Imparted in that instant was the knowledge of who would be following him home that night. It made it hard to focus, but Eddie managed to finish his requests and strummed through whatever came to mind afterwards. Everyone in the house had settled down, full and content. The evening was at an end.

…

There were plenty of hugs and 'happy Thanksgiving's' on the way out the door. Mike, Lucas, and Will were staying the night, and Jonathan had driving duty to ferry them back home in the morning. It gave Eddie the strong feeling his wishbone wish went through.

He put his guitar back into the van and waved at the Hopper-Byers group filling up their SUV. Steve leaned against his car as Eddie closed his back van doors.

"Angel, you having car trouble? 'Cause I never work on German automobiles." Eddie leaned back next to Steve. "But for you…" He made a show of looking Steve up and down, checking him out. "I could make an exception."

Steve fluttered his eyelashes and pushed up off the vehicle. "Mmm, lucky me." He dropped into his driver's seat and shut the door.

The hell? The car started but didn't move as Eddie walked to the driver's door, and peered in to see Steve smiling. Tease. He lowered his window and Eddie leaned down. "Your place or mine?"

"Yours?"

"Heads up. Nothing else is getting stuffed tonight baby." Ate too damn much.

"That's fair. But you forget… maybe I'm still hungry." Steve looked at Eddie's crotch and licked his lips.

The lethargy Eddie had felt after the pie melted away. Excitement pumped through his veins, waking all of him up. Fuck-buds for the holidays. Perhaps this is a brilliant idea.

He drove back to the apartment far too fast, grateful there were rarely cops on the back roads. Eddie locked his van, unlocked his door, and went straight to the bathroom to freshen up. He'd finished when he heard Steve knock and enter. He also heard the sound of the deadbolt turn.

He walked out of the bathroom and looked back over his shoulder at Steve standing in his little hallway. "Hey, do you want to change into something with an elastic waistband?"

Steve had a flirty little smile on his lips. "God, Munson. Where were you hiding that kink?"

Eddie smacked his lips, walked up, and slid his arms around Steve's waist. "Oh no. Sweatpants and a cock like yours? That's not hidden baby."

Steve pulled back Eddie's hair to rest his lips on Eddie's neck, just below his ear. "Then I'll have to slip into a pair."

He resisted the urge to do more in the moment, moving instead to the bedroom. Eddie rummaged in his drawers for a pair of promised sweatpants and threw them on the bed. Steve was just about to reach out and grab them when Eddie pressed up behind him. "Can I help you?"

"Now that you mention it, I could use a helping hand." Steve stood back upright and undid his jeans, letting Eddie help him push them down, followed swiftly by his underwear. Steve patiently stood still as Eddie eagerly pulled off his shirt and then his own. He left his pants on and wrapped one hand around Steve's chest, pulling their bodies close together. Steve angled his head back, seeking Eddie's lips as his free hand wrapped around Steve's hard cock.

Steve moaned as Eddie held him, jerking his cock, pressing his own denim covered erection against the bare swell of Steve's ass. His lips ranged over Steve's neck and shoulder, murmuring into his skin every promise he wanted fulfilled for Steve that night. "I want you to bust in my hand baby, feel it against my chest when your spine tingles, give you that release, let you melt back into me. You beautiful angel…"

Steve moaned, and Eddie tugged at a faster pace, keeping his hand at the same firmness. He wanted to wet it some but was loath to do anything that changed their position. Instead he sucked love bite after love bite onto Steve's shoulder. He let his short nails rake across Steve's chest and with a shudder and a cry, Steve came. Eddie drew up his hand to catch what he could, waiting for the last pulse of his cock before letting Steve go. Steve turned and sat on the bed.

"How did you make a reach around… Fuck.” Steve was flushed, his pretty lips wet and pink. "Eddie, my legs are literally weak."

Eddie could feel himself blush a little as he cleaned off his hand. "I didn't know that you would, dry… I, um. No shame in admitting it I guess…" He rubbed his hand across his mouth. Damn. Am I getting self conscious over my body count? "I've been getting cocks off for a bit now."

Steve looked up at him with big eyes and pouted. "Eddie. I'm still hungry."

Christ. Eddie unzipped and lowered his pants and underwear that time. Steve pulled Eddie's hips forward till he stood between Steve's knees. He ran his lips over the side of Eddie's cock. He teased the wet pleasure of his mouth by tonguing the whole of the underside of Eddie's cock, from balls to tip. Eddie flinched, fighting the urge to grab and manhandle Steve.

Steve seemed to know he was holding back. "You can put your hands wherever," Steve said sweetly. "I trust you not to choke me. Three taps for out, two for slow, one for keep going."

"You have been a naughty thing, haven't you? I'd've never guessed and now you’re sitting so pretty, holding my cock, telling me your non-verbal signals." Before Eddie could tease him more, Steve had wrapped his lips around Eddie's member and had half his length sucked into his mouth. Steve's mouth met with his hand around the base of Eddie's shaft.

Eddie's hand shot out and buried itself in Steve's luscious hair. Eddie held his head in place, so that he paused Steve's motion. He wanted to savor the depth a while longer, the tongue pressing against his cock. All fluctuating pressure and spit. He liked the precautions Steve had set up for himself. He wasn't as worried about gagging him when he started to lightly pull on Steve's hair. Eddie pushed his head forward and back at a varied pace. Steve's mouth slid and sucked obediently, focused on Eddie prompts.

"That's good baby. Who taught you to be so good," Eddie asked. Steve's eyes shot up to look at him. Light brown irises nearly imperceivable, Steve's pupils had expanded so much. They were a little teary too, making them glisten even more than normal.

Eddie couldn't tear his eyes off of Steve either. Mouth stretched, gazing up at him, so focused on his pleasure. So pretty and pink cheeked. "Lovely," he whispered. "You're so lovely, baby."

Steve kept going, and Eddie lost himself to the sensation. He kept his hand on Steve's head but let him continue at the depth and speed he'd last set. It was all consuming. Eddie barely recognized when it built so high he finally spilt over. The delight etched in his body in waves, as Steve sucked his release down.

Steve's voice was a little graveled when his mouth popped off of Eddie's spent cock. "You're teaching me gorgeous. You're teaching me how to be good for you."

Eddie felt like his heart stopped before pounding at high speed again in his chest. He leaned down and angled Steve's head up, index finger curled under his chin. Eddie kissed him softly. "Very, very good Stevie." Steve's face rapidly covered in a blush, and Eddie felt a grin spread across his own face.

They both put on sweatpants, Steve threw his undershirt back on, and then he lay down in Eddie's bed. Steve stayed the night.

…

Now that Eddie was looking for it, little pieces of dysphoria seemed to be everywhere.

The way Steve was always more comfortable with the girls than he’d been with his buddies on his sports teams. Those friendships hadn't stuck, but with Nancy and Robin... Steve talked to them on the daily. Any guy could be protective of his friends and kind to kids, but all the maternal jokes and the babysitter ribbing now sprang to mind. Any guy could care about his appearance and fuss with his hair, but now Eddie couldn’t help but think how proud and pleased Steve was over the length of his locks and look. Those things didn't make him a woman, they were just parts of Steve. Yet… don't those details mean a little more now?

Out of everything Eddie considered, if he knew anything about Steve it was that he would put aside his own discomfort and pain for others. The longer Eddie dwelled on the matter, the more he felt like it was deeply fucked that Steve had abandoned his transition. Steve had shoved it to the side as he worried about having to get by, and killing Vecna, defeating the Mind Flayer, and caring for the kids. How much of his stress had piled deeper? How much had he struggled with that core element of himself… herself?

When Eddie woke up with Steve still in his arms, sound asleep that Black Friday, he was determined to help her however he could. He hadn’t asked her yet about pronouns, but mentally he’d already made the switch. She deserved the help to be herself. I want her to be happy. I want her to feel whole.

Chapter continues *•.🍁.•* Keep reading on AO3

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #ao3 fanfic #i write things #smut #eventual trans fem steve Harrington #future stevie Harrington #trans fems can be tops is this fics secret agenda #found family #thanksgiving #Steve's still hungry #coming out #happy ending #stranger things #the whole gang #cuffing season

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