#said in the most affectionate way . she’s one of my most favorite authors ever
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fascinated by this woman’s writing
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IWTV Fanfiction Recommendations 🫶
I think I have read enough IWTV fics now, so I will list the ones I've bookmarked. All Loustat unless stated otherwise. And since I limit the number of on-going fics I read, you will find mostly completed, one shots, or serialized one-shot fics here. ❤️ means personal favorite. (Also, I don't always remember the author's Tumblr username, so if you know the ones I didn't link, please tell me)
AMC IWTV-verse fics
on brûlera toutes les deux en enfer, mon ange by Tash_ka ❤️
An Episode 5 divergent AU where Lestat's protective side kicked in when he looked at Claudia when she came back. Perfect serotonin and great resolution. Read the sequel as well
outcast of all this night by @puentera
Armand/Daniel, after Daniel came home from Dubai. A must read for Devil's Minion enthusiasts imo. Love the travelling and Daniel's daughters. Check other titles under the series as well.
fear death by water (what the thunder said) by @lgbtiwtv
In which Louis decided not to go with Claudia after Ep 7 and tended to Lestat instead. Or "Louis Phantom Thread-ing Lestat" as I affectionately call it. Love the language and Louis' internal conflict.
The Unreleased Interviews of Louis de Pointe du Lac by @fablesdelightme
Aka "extra" interviews Louis did to accompany his interview in the show. Personally, it's hard for me to read first person POV, but author captures Louis' voice well. Nice to challenge your interpretation of the show. My personal favorite of the series is Light of My Life, or The Lullaby ❤️. I love the romanticism in the words. But overall, a very beautiful series. Not all is Loustat, so mind the tags.
Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same (modern loustat series) by @thefairylights ❤️
The modern rock star!Lestat AU we all need where Loustat (finally) see a therapist! A mix between show and book-verse' canon. A fun light read with the perfect amount of fluff and angst. My personal favorites from the series are There is an indentation in the shape of you, made your mark on me, a golden tattoo and Here lies a heart that feels touched by fire, howling at the moon for you.
The Right Regrets by @dreamofme9 ❤️
You want to cry while reading the longest most romantic sex scene ever? This is it. I mean, fr the internal conflict Louis is having and all the love he feels for both Lestat and Claudia is 🤌
Basically, all fics written by @amc-iwtv
She has my favorite "voice" for both Louis and Lestat it's insane. My favorites are Valentine Medley ❤️, Bed Death (Loumand, with Loustat in the shadow), Familiar Taste of Poison (this fic is basically half canon for me idc), Written In The Stars Above (a very hot '80s rock star Lestat AU) ❤️, God Complex (Crazy In Love) (that Ep 6 scene from Lestat's POV).
Is It Too Much? by @thatgothicgay ❤️
aka what if Louis didn't say yes at the church and Loustat somehow found a way to communicate better. Love how the series handle the show's conflicts. Has a lot of de Pointe du Lacs feels. The sequel is on-going and worth the wait.
My Companion Heart by @mythicaltzu ❤️
Vampiric modern AU with satisfying murder mystery. Love the ending and Louis' characterization here.
Let the Tale Seduce You by (again) @mythicaltzu
Very different and intriguing take on the "unreliable narrator".
All the Ashes in My Wake by jeremystollemyheart
In the spirit of erasing Talbot from the show 🫡, what if it's Louis who's there with Lestat during the TOTBT suicide attempt? Short, but beautiful
Whispers in my mind by @nalyra-dreaming
It's written for me but idc lol. Beautiful fic of Louis' internal conflict in trying to free himself from Lestat's shadow post-Rue Royale until he realizes everything crumbling down again
These devils of yours, they need love too by (again) @thefairylights
In which Louis finally asked Lestat to kill Antoinette for him when Claudia was still away but somehow found it didn't change anything for him. The angst towards the end 🤌
your mouth and madness by @brightfelon ❤️
A non-vampiric modern AU of four-way Lestat/Louis/Armand/Daniel polycule aka Thee Polycule fic. Idk how to describe it except (insert that Lady Gaga's talented, incredible, amazing etc etc gif here). I think we should pitch this fic to Rolin so he would produce a spin-off series based on this fr. Light read, fun, right amount of angst, yet still tackling the conflicts the characters face in the show
Book-verse fics
Begin Again by @licncourt
My first loustat fic I read. Good for show-audience who haven't read the books but want to know loustat's relationship in the book-verse. Set after QotD (3rd book)
Experimental Methods by @zisurru
Loustat experimenting with Fareed's invention and everything that comes with it 😏
A Collected History of The Vampire Lestat (1968-1978) by @mutantmouse
it's rare for me to read epistolary fic, but I enjoyed this. very unique, and Loustat is all over the place. A glam rock and non-vampiric, but not really human either AU
Questions at Midnight by @sofipitch
A canon compliant AU from Prince Lestat era. I have to admit I like the idea of Rose, and this explores that in relation to Loustat.
L' Interversion by @calipsan
An AU where Louis went to Paris after being turned into vampire by other, found Lestat, and turned him instead. You don't really need to know the book canon for this.
#interview with the vampire#iwtv#lestat de lioncourt#louis de pointe du lac#loustat#fic recs#moi.txt#my fic recs
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The level of detail and thought you've put into hai is incredible!
I have a question. I love how you've described Eddie as a rizzless loverboy (my favorrite kind) so I need to know how he managed to get with an ice queen like Nicole. Not to mention some stuff with Chrissy later and even Cass but I'm most curious about Nicole, especially since she's a former friend of lacy's and he describes her as the one person who's meaner than lacy. I need details. How did it all go down? i like to imagine that she approached him. What makes me sad is that I think she probably did it just to say she lost her virginity but I also like to think that they all find him hot but they just wont say it because he's the town freak
NONNY COME THROUGH I LOVE THIS QUESTION!!!!!! hard agree on nicole approaching him because she's nasty as fuck in all the wrong era-typical ways and he's scared as hell of her (like, she really could bite and not in a cute way). but i also agree about these girls secretly being endeared to him. i mean, we saw it with chrissy-- he has a knack for making people feel safe in vulnerable little moments. but unfortunately, people (teenagers) are also diiiiiiicks
so fuck it, let's blurb it out! or
EDDIE MUNSON STAMPS NICOLE SUMMERS' V-CARD (NOT A BOARD WAXER, NOT IN MAUI)
content warning: swearing, wildly unsexy implication of sex, nicole summers sucks dude, teenagers scare the living shit out of me, me attempting to incorporate dnd terminology, GRANNY ECKER KLAXON, there's also an easter egg in this for the rest of the story if you know where to look word count: 2.6k (lol what)
part of the hellfire & ice universe (duh!)
FOREST HILLS TRAILER PARK, 1982-ISH
She's gotta be doing community service.
It's Easter, right, so this has gotta be like... a Jesus thing. But she doesn't seem like a Jesus person.
It's the only precedent that would explain what Nicole Summers, jaw jutting out in an exaggerated scowl, is doing serving Meals on Wheels to the less fortunate dwellers of Hawkins' favorite trailer park. Her red hair blazes in the sunlight, searing into his retinas--
But that could also be the weed talking.
"Ma'am, like, I don't know what to tell you, you're signed up to receive these."
"And I don't know what to tell you, little girl," Veronica Ecker Sr., affectionately and fearsomely known as Granny to him, grits from the doorway, "but I'm perfectly capable of cooking my own darn food."
Eddie's been lingering around the Ecker trailer, see, waiting for Ronnie to be freed from yet another M*A*S*H appointment with her grandmother ("Ever since she stopped going to church, it's like, all Alan Alda all the time," quoth Ronnie) and run through his latest Hellfire campaign.
"I'm not saying that you don't, I'm just saying that--"
"You're making me miss my program."
"I'll eat it." Eddie doesn't know who said that or why it sounds like his voice, until he figures out that he said it, which is why it sounds like his voice. Jesus, that shit he lifted from his dad was strong.
Granny Ecker and Nicole Summers elicit almost identical reactions of annoyance once they clock that he's there, lingering in the outfield.
"Junior, if you don't--"
"Oh my God. Ew."
Eddie plants his hands on his hips, half in the hopes that this might look authoritative, half mirroring Granny. "Well, y'know. Waste not want not."
Granny considers him, then apparently considers that this might not be such a terrible idea. Her laser focus directs back to Nicole.
"I don't give a shit. I'm not eating that tripe."
"I'm not just-- authorized to pass off meals like that. There's a system."
"Wait, you need clearance for stuff like that? In Meals on Wheels?" That'd be Ronnie's voice, head popping over her grandmother's shoulder. "Oh, hey, Eddie."
"Hey, Ron. You ready to--"
"Veronica, get back inside. I need you to hit that thing back to record when M*A*S*H comes back on. I don't want any commercials on my darn tapes."
"Oh my God, forget it!" Nicole breaks, stalking towards him with a foil-wrapped tray. She stays a safe distance away and thrusts it towards them-- something something freak cooties, some new line of bullshit that her and her dumb little clique had come up with in middle school. "Here. I don't need the whole freak council weighing in on this."
Eddie takes the tray and considers the shiny foil wrapping. His reflection is all distorted in there, a funhouse mirror but way, way worse. This makes him compelled to be unwisely honest to Nicole, who's already making tracks away from him. He jogs to catch up, foil crinkling as he moves. "Well, now I feel bad."
"Don't."
"It's like robbing from old people. Maybe you should give this to another old person. Like a super skinny one. Who might need two."
"Fuck 'em."
"Gee, Nicole, you're really buildin' that stairway to heaven, huh?"
"Ugh. What?"
"The meals-- the Meals on Wheels. It's a nice thing to... do. Fuckin'... forget it." Eddie stops dead; he might be loaded right now, but he knows which side his bread is buttered on. And he hasn't got any bread. He thinks it might be mashed potatoes, green beans and some rubbery chicken. Anyway, he turns heel-- this conversation isn't going anywhere.
"Hey, freak." The derisive nickname comes calling from Nicole's end. Ring-ring. "Are you stoned right now?"
"De-pendsssss," Eddie murmurs, the 's' sound going on for like five minutes, "Are you... a cop right now?"
Nicole busts out a giggle. It's kind of a pretty noise, if a little grating. She's kind of pretty. Eddie remembers when she had braces in middle school and whenever she'd pick on him, she'd kind of spit on him too. Gross. But still kind of pretty.
"I know how you can make it up to me."
Jump-freaking-cut and Nicole Summers is sitting with Eddie in that creepy wooded area near Forest Hills, making a miserable job of rolling a joint out of a dusting of his dad's weed and a torn-open Pall Mall. His buzz has kind of come and gone, and in its wake the knotted, deadened trees are looking extra gnarly.
"God, I suck at this."
You don't suck. You just need practice, is what Eddie would say if it were anybody else sitting with him, but all he manages is, "Eugh."
Because she does suck. And he's too nervous to further verbalize himself. He holds his hand out and she drops the comically conical attempt at a joint into it.
Deftly, Eddie re-rolls it just like that. "Practice, baby. Only way to Carnegie Hall."
"Wait, what?" Nicole murmurs, brow furrowed.
Eddie wishes he didn't phrase it like that either. "Um. Nothing. How come you're doing Meals on Wheels?"
A guttural sigh comes right from the center of her chest, which Eddie can almost see, thanks to her super low-cut tank top. Her cleavage is all freckled and hiked up, thanks to the Wonderbra that he's been painstakingly avoiding tracing the outline of with his eyes. "My fucking aunt. She's like some do-gooder Christian nutso, she runs the whole thing."
"Oh--" but Nicole's not done. She kicks a toeful of dirt up just as Eddie ignites the end of the joint and takes a harsh pull.
"I'm stuck with her this whole break because my grades were shit. I'm supposed to be in Maui, y'know."
Eddie wordlessly passes the joint on. Knew it was a Jesus thing. And like, boo-hoo, he guesses? He doesn't have any real pity for Nicole Summers right now, because overall she fucking blows. She's mean as hell, for no good reason.
Ronnie came up with a good analogy for it one time; like, put up against that chick Lacy that she hangs out with, Nicole is mean like a bad dog. She just keeps barking and barking and barking and barking and it is relentless and it's busting open your eardrums and she's snarling and you're too scared to get in her way so you just tolerate it. Even if it fucks up your whole day.
That Lacy girl, though, she's mean like a guillotine. One sharp drop and you're done. Dead. Headless horseman.
"I know which one is worse-- Nicole, obviously, because it chips away at you and it's so freakin' loud. But I know which one I'd prefer," Ronnie had said, "I feel like if Lacy comes for you, you've really earned it. Like, you possibly deserve to perish."
But ultimately, curiosity will be the death of Eddie Munson. And so will girls. And so will boring Spring break Sundays.
Nicole half-chokes on a lungful of smoke and Eddie's got to pat her on the back so he doesn't get nailed for her murder or whatever.
"God. Gross," Nicole gripes on recovery. "Ugh. My whole family is in Maui, but I'm stuck here and like-- I even told people I was going to Maui and it's like-- so fucked."
"Totally." Eddie makes pincer fingers towards the joint. "Don't bogart that."
But Nicole is holding it aloft, totally off on her own journey, and Eddie wonders if the weed has hit her that fast or if she's just completely self-involved.
"I even sent postcards to people, pretending I was in Maui. If you wanna know something really pathetic."
It takes a second for Eddie to decipher it, but it seems like she's saying that she's been sneaking around Hawkins incognito all break because she told all of her sucker friends she was in the Central Pacific.
"You completely said that sentence backwards."
He notes that down to tell Ronnie about later.
"Shuddup, freak."
"Man, it is so completely uncool of you to keep calling me a freak when you're literally smoking my weed."
"You took my Meal on Wheel."
"Meal on Wheel for a well-rolled joint does not an even trade make, Summers!"
"So why did you say okay?!" Nicole barks, and Eddie finally gets a grasp of that joint. He's up, he's off the log they were occupying. There is a buzz to be had here, a good time rolled tight up in these flammable papers and he is not about to waste it by letting Nicole Summers verbally wail on him.
"Because I am obviously a veritable moron of the highest knight's order and I had time to kill before M*A*S*H was over!"
That rhymed.
Nicole looks up at him with her green eyes narrowed, this horrible, puggy grimace wrinkling her face. And then she says something so beyond the realm of Eddie's comprehension that he's sure the weed is turning on him.
"Do you wanna, like, hook up?" Nicole says-- scratch that, Nicole snarls.
"What?!" So this level of fuckery doesn't make sense to Eddie because nobody's around. Like, if Nicole takes a shot at the freak and Hagan and Carol and Tina and Lacy and Cass aren't around to hear it, did it even happen?
"I'm serious," Nicole deadpans. "I kind of... look, so I kind of wrote to some people that I hooked up with someone on vacation and, like... I could make that not a whole lie."
"Nicole," Eddie says, in a tone about as measured as he can manage, which is not very because his balls seem to have vacuumed themselves back into his body, "Are you asking me to aid and abet your elaborate scam in which you're currently pretending you're in Maui getting, what... railed by like, a surfer?"
"Wow. That's actually kinda close to what I've been telling people."
He would later find out that she said her premiere paramour was a board waxer.
Eddie inhales a lungful of smoke so deep and so urgent that it makes him feel like Hunter S Thompson-- that is, to say, certifiably insane. Because Eddie's never been... Like, he's made out, or whatever, and grazed a boob like once, but...
In an ideal world, he would not be in the woods. In an ideal world, there might be some perfect declaration beforehand, and he might be indoors, and he might be wearing cleaner underwear. In an ideal world, it would not be Nicole Summers.
Roll Perception. Is this really how it happens? Maybe she secretly... likes me?
The D20 in his brain lands a nat one.
Yeah, maybe. But you've been wrong about that before.
Nicole gets up, and he can just about see the cogs turning in her head, trying to intimate an expression of sultriness. It's such a thin mask that he can basically see her rolling her eyes behind it.
"C'mon. You can't tell me you haven't... thought about it," she tries, dropping her voice in volume and pouting her lips.
And Christ, Eddie hates to be such a guy about it, but... you hate to look a gift horse in the formerly-braces-clad mouth.
I haven't thought about it. I think you suck. But I also think this might be my one shot at something for a long, long, long, long, long--
"God, quit thinking about it and kiss me, freak."
It's almost hot, it's like lukewarm at the very best, which is good enough for Eddie so he goes for it. Lips on lips, but Nicole apparently doesn't follow rhythm very well. There's a lot of dry macking, not a lot of... sensual action. He's almost starting to feel sorry for her.
But then-- well, let's just cut to the chase since that's the flavor du jour, then her hand is on his dick. Through the jeans, obviously, she's not a belt ninja but it's very much there. Flesh and tendons, palming at him.
In this situation, Eddie's not a hard sell. Badum-tsssss.
He uses one hand to hook around the back of her neck, tilting her head toward him-- using this opportunity to kiss her right, or what he assumes is right, while she's distracted. Nicole cannot focus on two things-bad kissing and dick handling-at once, unlike Eddie, who uses his free hand to feel her boobs.
"Siddown on the log," she breathes. Just what you want to hear in the heat of passion.
"Uh-- okay," and he does what he is told. Because she's still a pitbull, at the end of the day.
"Do you, like, have anything?"
"Like... the clap?" Eddie sorta-squeaks as Nicole positions herself over him, one knee either side of his thighs. She's got good balance. Is she in cheerleading? Or is that the other mean one?
"No, you fuckin'-- like a condom."
"Oh." His heart sinks. There's a box of Trojans that Ronnie jokingly bought him after he tried to lay a smacker on her-majorly misguided move, by the way!-but he doesn't--
Wait, shut up. They were literally having this argument the other day, he and Ronnie, about that tiny pocket on pairs of jeans. You know the one. Ronnie was trying to explain that it was for cowboys to keep their watches in, whereas Eddie was arguing that there's no way that cowboys need a watch, dude. They go by the sun in the sky. Like men, so the pocket obviously had to be for emergency prophylactics.
He'd even demonstrated, slipping a good ol' Troj into the tiny fold!
Eddie, in his over-excited state, almost knocks Nicole off the log trying to dig the rubber out. "Voilà."
"Whut," Nicole mumbles.
"Do you take Spanish?"
"No, French."
"... okay."
Here it is. This is it. He's about to get his dick out in the scary wooded part by the trailer park where he once tried to dig a hole to China. Fuck.
But all of a sudden, Nicole is fumbling. Her movements are suddenly weird and unsure and reserved and tight. Badum-- fuck off.
"Hey, y--y'alright?" Eddie murmurs, almost brushing her hair off her face. But that feels too intimate. Even considering the circumstances.
"Have you... done this before?" she says, lips pursed and small as she fiddles with his belt.
"Um." To truth, or not to truth? That is to lose any and all hope of losing one's virginity. "I--"
"I haven't."
A little moment of silence hangs between them. That's not a bark. That's a real girl in there.
Eddie swallows, despite the precipice of opportunity. He finds his throat is very dry, sandpaper going down. That feeling-- it's a distinct sensory recall. A favor someone once did him at a birthday party.
Because Nicole's a dick, but she's still a person.
Not that she'd give him the same grace.
Oh well. Building his stairway to heaven, and all that shit.
"We don't... have to." He nods, resolutely. Partially for himself. He even puts a hand over Nicole's, where it lingers on his undone fly. "Seriously."
Nicole's eyelashes flicker and she stares at him for a drawn out beat. As if she's considering him. Really considering him. Outside of the bullshit dichotomy in which they live. A crease eventually settles in her brow, looking at him like, are you serious, loser?
"No, I obviously want to."
Want to with me? he nearly chances.
"Just don't be, like... weird about this after," she instructs. "It never happened."
"I'm not gonna. It didn't." That sounds too soft, so he snorts a little at the end.
Eddie barely has time to ask her if she's okay before it's lights out for him.
The most unforgettable thirty seconds of Eddie Munson's pubescent life up to that point begins with a scoff (his) and ends in a scoff (hers).
But that dog ceases barking for at least three weeks following. No biting in the hallway, no harassment in the parking lot. Even when Hagan sniffs around him, Nicole doesn't jeer on. She averts her eyes.
It's no declaration of love, but at least he got a free dinner out of it.
#powder room talk#Anonymous#hai brainrot#blurbs#e. munson by powder#eddie munson fic#i GENUINELY dont know what to tag this as it was so unexpected#but thank you for the ask nonny ily!!!!!!#another theory? nicole denial is a river in egypt. you and robin dykely as you so call her Are Gay#r. ecker by powder
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SHIPPING INFO. answer the following for your muse(s) so people know how shipping works on your blog.
what’s your OTP for your muse(s)?
Neya & Thor are the only two applicable options here when it comes to things outside platonic/familial relationships. Opacho is 5 and Jack is also just a baby, but she's like best frienemies with Faolan. I know when you hear OTP its usually referring to romance but I'm super big on platonic relationships being OTPs!
That being said Neya x chemistry, she's not overly complex but Neya is a kind-hearted and deeply supportive type of character who despite often being in situations where she's in way over her head, is willing to persevere and overcome whatever obstacle that may be, especially when it involves people she cares about! If our characters build a relationship through our writing then I will never say no to it! This also applies to Thor! They have a good relationship built through us writing together and/or chatting about stuff via messages I'll never say no.
what are you willing to RP when it comes to shipping?
Pretty much anything, except you know the obvious and universal no no's.
how large does the age gap have to be to make it uncomfortable?
Hoo boy ok. So, Neya, for her era (and the author even states this in the manga) at 16 she's considered an adult. On that alone I'd do 2 years younger and 4 years older cause I'm just trying to think of how it'd be from her time period. Now, this ONLY applies specifically for [main verse || itsuwaribito] when she's in her canon universe or some other feudal-era settings. I understand she's still 16 and other people don't vibe with that, I don't force anything on people (at least not intentionally, if you ever feel like I write something that makes you uncomfortable please tell me!) and romance is never my first or main priority, I like crushes/gradual friends to dating/lovers etc when writing anyway. This also obvi needs to be discussed first cause duh. Also, I'm fine with like 'x character looks 16/17 but is actually 100+ years old' (I’m an Inuyasha girly uwu, so we love a good demon/immortal s/o pairing).
For the verse where she's stuck in the future, [verse || under a rock] she is by modern-day laws legally underage. I'd go for 2 at most maybe 3 years older, 1 year younger. For the sub-main verse set at the end of the series with her running her village [verse || nanushi] she's canonically an adult there so I can deal with 10 years older or whatever and when it comes to the monsters/demons/immortal characters, so long as both parties are consenting adults it's cool!
Thor's a talking rodent. He's adult age and would be considered a young adult by human standards I suppose. So as long as the other creature is adult-aged it wouldn't matter to him. I can't put too much thought into this one, trying to make the math make sense is gonna hurt my brain, but obviously NO child-age creatures.
are you selective when shipping?
Can't really say, like excluding Coschu x Surgechu, which happened gradually through jubilantsparks and I's constant gushing about our chus via DMs I've never really shipped seriously with anyone else before so I can't really give an honest opinion about it *kanye shrug*
how far do steamy moments have to go before they’re considered NSFW?
When they start undressing and getting real handsy, but none of that will ever be happening here so no need to worry!
Who are other muses you ship your muse with?
For Thor, specifically in his Lt. Surge Raichu verse (affectionately shortened to Surgechu) I shipped him with jubilantsparks' Fem!Pikachu OC Elysia who had a Cosplay Pikachu verse (affectionately shortened to Coschu). Coschu x Surgechu was fun and I miss them :') Also, Thor and Elysia in general were my favorite platonic OTP that could have easily become romantic cause they loved and cared for each other so much as best friends who could have just as easily become something more if they wanted to </3
NeRiya with Jade's Iriya . We've had many discussions about this enemies-to-friends/maybe more slow burn/redemption arc for Iriya. I cherish it deeply and Iriya deserved better than what he got in canon ; n ;
does one have to ask to ship with you?
Hmm, not really? I have a very chill and go-with-the-flow type of mindset when it comes to building relationships and shipping in general. The more our characters interact, get to know each other and the closer they become the better! If there's ever a certain aspect of their relationship you wanna discuss with me privately or plot, then just shoot me a message!
Also, I never assume anything so if you're invested off the rip in wanting to pursue the ship beyond them being friends then once again just message me. I'm here to have fun and write with folks, so go for it I will most likely never say no lmao. Crushes on Neya or Thor are also 100% ok, even if it's one-sided I have no problems with it, you don't even gotta ask me for that.
how often do you like to ship?
I've only had two (2) actual ships during my entire time here on this site. I have a bad case of anxiety brain when it actually comes to shipping and I never wanna assume or push anyone into doing anything so it's rare I ever approach. I'll just sit and vibe and settle with my time in the friendzone while making up scenarios in my head like the dork I am.
are you multiship?
Ok, after getting some answers on what multishipping is from an RP standpoint, I want to say yes I am. I'd have no issues with having multiple ship partners. Every character interaction is like in their own separate universes so like I can't understand limiting myself as a single ship. This is subject to change but like I said, I barely have any shipping experience.
are you ship obsessed or ship more-or-less?
More-or-less! As stated above I don't really ask or approach first for ships soooo if it happens it happens. I'm down for shipping off of chemistry through a gradually built relationship!
what is your favorite ship in your current fandom?
ooh chile I'm in a bunch of fandoms lol so I'll just go with the fandoms for my muses specifically. For Pkmn it'll always be ShinHika/Paul x Dawn/ Ikarishipping. Pokeani can pry that dynamic from my cold dead hands.
I like all the potential pairings within Utsuho's group, but that'd be too much to list. Gin x Kin, Neya x Uzume, Neya x Hikae, Hikae x Iwashi.
For SK I was a sucker for Hao x Tamao back in the day. It still could've been cute if Takei didn't turn Tamao into Anna 2.0. I find her whole personality shift weird.
finally, how does one ship with you?
Just write with me! I don't care how many asks or threads we end up having. I cannot reiterate how much I adore relationship building in writing. We write enough threads together and our characters grow to like each other or something I'm 100% down to clown! Also, If you don't suffer from perpetual cold feet like me, just shoot me an IM and let's talk about it! Easy peasy, promise I don't bite!
Nabbed from: @gamenu initially, but I've been seeing other moots do it too! Tagging: @sillymuses, @lostusagis, @museguided, @despairforme, + anyone who sees this!
#memes || [fun]#covet || [likes]#but evolved and matured childhood besties Jack & Faolan?? Good shit 👌🏾👌🏾 also the Dead Money PMD verse. immaculate.#Thorlysia makes me so soft. Heavy friends turned lovers vibes but they were also content with just being with each other ; n ;#then coschu and surgechu (the beauty & her bodyguard) *SCREAMS INTO THE VOID* I MISS THEM SO MUCH#iinuma gave us all these fun pairings and character interactions but barely explored them so I have to do everything myself around here#christ on a cracker this was long
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REQUEST SWEEPING INNN🛩🛩
Helloo!!! — author-san! How have you been? I hope your year has been well because 2023 has come to an end! Oh, and I'd also like to add, happy new year! ⤵️
[✉️.] A LETTER FROM ANNON? — Dear Author-san, I wish you all the best this year, for the stories you write and those that will come after! And I don't think i've said it enough, but I'll tell you time and time again - I really love the content you put out and the little things (all others) you write! I don't think half of my year would be complete without your stories to accompany my stash of heart-wrenching stories I collected all over throughout this year! — and ofcourse, I'd be happy to see your stories this year too. Lets make a memorable year this time! (Oh- but please take your time, stories go through love and care too and I hope you don't feel pressured by this! I enjoy any content you put out! <3) — FROM ANNON. 🖊 happy new year.
[📃.] REQUEST! — Could I request for BSD characters? Where—If they would ever have an s/o, would they call them with pet names or no? If yes, what pet name?
—TYT & Thank you in advance, author-san! 🎆 ◝(๑꒪່౪̮꒪່๑)◜ 🎆
''Romantic, Sweet, Quirky or none ?''
A/N: ANON I LAVA YOU. I loved your message and thank you for all the support you gave me together with my other followers. I only got here to this day because of people like you who send me such beautiful things. Happy new year, I hope the universe blesses you and everyone who reads my posts. XOXO <3
Romantic - Fukuzawa, Kunikida, Katai, Hirotsu, Koyo, Sigma, Odasaku, Tecchou
Classic pet names are their favorites because they are simple but loving and not embarrassing - for those who are always victims of teasing -. Pet names like these are normal for most couples, but I guarantee that their form and intonation when they call you bring a fuzzy feeling inside your chest.
Some on the list are: Dear, Love/Lover, Darling, (my) Beloved, Heart or Sweetheart
The frequency will depend on where you two are, especially if you are their co-worker. In moments of intimacy or simply when the two of you are alone, in a quiet evening, the chance is 100%
Sweet - Yosano, Atsushi, Tanazaki, Gin, Higuchi, Kenji, Teruko
They like pet names that make your heart melt every day. They're creative and cute, especially when that nickname references things they/you love! In other words, they are created just for you.
Some on the list are: Babe/baby, Honey, sweetie
Bunny (By Gin because she loves cuddling with her s/o), Sunshine or Sunflower (By Kenji, do I need to explain?), Butterfly (By Yosano obviously), Bear (By Teruko, she's so tiny)
Frequency? 24/7
Quirky - Dazai, Ranpo, Chuuya, Tachihara, Mark Twain, Nikolai, Fitzerald
Provocative as hell, which is why they choose pet names that express that side of them. These nicknames range from embarrassing to ones that make you feel good - and that's their ambitions.
Some on the list: Hot Stuff, Pumpkin head, Muffin, Goat, Boo, Butt or Bun, Lolipop (We know, you know, Ranpo know), Bug
They call you these names at any time, whether to make you blush or laugh - then in front of your friends/family they turn into your handsome devil. If they want your attention, you can hear them moan all the pet names they have for you, I wish you luck.
None - Ango, Akutagawa, Fyodor, Mushitarou, Bram
It's nothing personal, but… You know. They are quite stubborn in admitting that they like to be all nice to you, which means they don't call you affectionately. But there's always a loophole in the law, right? Then there are times when they accidentally slip out pet names like ''Darling'' and ''Beatiful'' OR they call you in a sarcastic way - But we're already used to living off crumbs -.
either way, they love you. Without a doubt.
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Hi Courtney! 7, 9, 19 and 21 for the writer asks please 💗
Hi, D! Thanks for taking an interest in little old me.
7. What's the story or fic that you're most excited to work on or share next year?
You guys, I got so wrapped up in the TiMER fic that I was wholly unprepared for how the same in every language would absolutely invade my brain. I’ve mentioned a few times that I am not the world’s most natural smut writer, but something about the delightful little slut (affectionate) that is TK Strand has flipped a switch in me, and my snippets are suddenly all smut, all the time. Well, smut and feelings. But smut. So, so much smut. It got to the point a few weeks back that I had to take away the “Five Times Fic” aspect, because there are so many more times than five. (That said, I’m still super excited for the TiMER AU, and to explore the exploits of a certain little someone in the to build a home followup.)
9. What's a scene you wrote this year that you're particularly proud of?
As Tay can attest, the We Need to Talk About Iris scene in to build a home just about gave me fits until I had a little eureka moment about Carlos’ headspace — I’m really happy with how that one turned out. But the hospital scene post-kidnapping, with Andrea and Iris and Owen and those conversations with Gabriel and TK — all the people Carlos has ever called home — is the one that inspired the whole fic, and despite it being almost ungodly long, that’s the one I go back to and feel the biggest sense of accomplishment.
19. What was your favorite comment, or piece of feedback this year?
This is the fic version of Sophie’s Choice, I swear. It’s like asking an author to pic their favorite fic baby. @lemonlyman-dotcom left a slightly unhinged four-part comment on the last chapter of tbah that will hold a soft spot in my heart forever, and @heartstringsduet’s words on the first chapter shared that Iris’ depiction had touched on something personal for her, which was extremely touching for me (plus she called me a “wizard of specificity,” which is going to be a random point of pride for as long as I live). But I think @never-blooms’ comments across the board, with all their lovely little details and all the things they pointed out that no one else really knew to, resonated for me, in the context of the fic, at the precise frequency of the story itself and the way I set out to craft Carlos’ origins, and struck me in a way I can’t quite explain but made writing the fic feel even more worthwhile. Flowers for you, Beth! (And randomly, there was also this one, which called out my constant and frankly ridiculous use of alliteration as a good thing, and made me sort of wanted to hug it.)
21. Not a question, but a challenge! Say something nice about your writing!
Um… my tendency toward alliteration is not actually that ridiculous!
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As Long as You Are Part 1
Harry Watches Fan Reactions P1
LINKS: Part 2, Part 3, Social Media Blurb
Author’s Note: Hey! This is is my first x reader... ever and I’m nervous about posting it. It’s dialogue heavy and might have the vibe of an academic paper because of how often I have to read and write them 😩 This might be all over the place so I apologize (especially with tenses). I just want to write as much as I can to try and get back into creative writing. Social media au’s are more of my vibe but I want to get their relationship down before I start doing that. Thanks, Rey.
Pronouns Used: She/Her (use of y/n)
Warnings: None!
Word Count: 1484
harry x musician!reader: Harry reacts to fans reacting to Harry’s House. Harry inception.
Harry wasn’t one to go searching his name on social media just to protect his mental health from anything he might come across. However, despite this, he wanted to see how not only fans but music lovers in general were reacting to Harry’s House. So he went to the YouTube app and searched “Harry’s House Album Reaction”. As soon as he hit ‘enter’ thousands of videos popped up. Part of him had guessed that would be the result, but it didn’t stop him from being so surprised as the album had only been released a week earlier.
The videos recommended ranged from ‘Dad Reacts to Harry Styles’ to ‘Vocal Coach Reacts to Harry’s House’ and, he had to be biased, his favorites were those from people who were clearly fans. There was a thumbnail which was a photo of a group of girls huddled together holding each other. He had an inkling that might be a screen capture from their reaction to Matilda. He watched that one first.
The video began and he realized he was suddenly nervous. Maybe he shouldn’t watch a fan reaction first. He didn’t want to disappoint. But it was too late, the ads had played and he was already invested in the group on the screen.
“Guys look, my record arrived.” One of the girls said pulling the record from the shipping box. There was an intake of breath from the other two and they seemed to marvel at the record.
“Why is he so beautiful?” That comment made him giggle. Giggle? Did I really just giggle at that?
“Shut the fuck up. Did he just do a little scat mid-song? I love this man.”
“He just whispered in our ears. Play it back, Kelsey, play it back.”
“Cocaine?? Harry, I thought this was a family show?” “This was not about a little freak. What the fuck?”
Matilda, like he expected, had no talking. Just silent cries and hugs.
“There’s no way he went from Matilda to talking about sex.”
The video progressed and the three girls were reacting positively to all of the moments in the songs that he was a little self-conscious about. The next recommendation was titled ‘Is Harry’s House Worth the Hype? (yes, it is)’ and so he had to click it
This next video started out with a girl sitting in what looked like a recording studio. Surprised, Harry focused more on the background than the intro but quickly rewound the video seeing as he had no clue what the girl said. He shifted his focus to the face in front of him, taking in her features while he listened to her talk. Now that he was actually paying attention, he noticed that she was wearing an oversized sweatshirt that said ‘NYU School of Music’ which made the recording studio make sense.
“Hey guys, welcome back to Are You Listening? I’m your one and only host y/n and today I’ll be reacting to Harry Styles’ new album Harry’s House!” The girl smiled and waved to the camera with her free hand while holding her phone in the other.
This reaction made him more nervous than the one he watched previously because it felt so much more… intimidating? Maybe it was the fact he could see the recording booth behind her and it reminded him of the hours upon hours he’d spent in a booth trying to perfect every minute detail possible, or maybe it was that she was wearing an NYU sweatshirt dedicated to the music school and music students scared him. Affectionately (most of the time).
“So I have a little cheat sheet of who worked on the songs,” she held up the little red pamphlet that came with the box sets, so maybe she is a fan, Harry thought. “I took a look at the names before recording and I’m already excited just by the people who worked on this album. There are some really great songwriters, producers, and musicians on this album.”
A warm fuzzy feeling flowed through Harry, not due to the girl on the screen, though she was cute, but the fact that she appreciated who worked on the album with him. There’s the saying “it takes a village to raise a baby” and the same thing with this album. His baby. He put so much love into it and invited people he knew would also put that same amount of love into the creation. It means a lot to him that people are recognizing who else put hard work into Harry’s House.
“This is Music for a Sushi Restaurant!” The girl on the screen picked up headphones from off camera and placed them on her head hitting play as she did so. The intro started playing and she was already bouncing her head to the tune. Promising.
“His voice sounds different. But in a good way”
After the song ended she brought her hands up to her lips in the classic ‘chef’s kiss’ gesture and then said, “Fantastic opening. Harry, you’re an amazing artist but Mitch Rowland was ripping on that.” Harry had to agree. Mitch was on another level when it came to his musical abilities which is why Harry always pointed him out and made a show of him during concerts. Every concert he made it a goal to show off at least one band member. But Mitch was someone he also liked bothering.
“Okay! I don’t want to talk too much so let’s move to Late Night Talking. I heard his Coachella performance of this one but I’m excited to listen to the studio version. Let’s go!”
“So far he’s a little more understated. Not in the sense of beat and melody but his singing. In Fine Line - the album - if I remember correctly his vocals were typically in the higher range but so far it’s in his lower-mids. Which I really like.” Obviously she knew her stuff, but Harry was still surprised at how she remembered Fine Line off the top of her head. Maybe she listened to it before recording this? He wondered.
“Harry whisper-counting in my ear oh my gosh.” y/n brought her hands to her face and covered it completely, when she removed them there was the smallest addition of color on her face.
“The production is so organic. You can feel the production is so unabashedly what felt right. Just within these three songs. They weren’t trying to push anything and it flowed really nicely. I think Grapejuice is my favorite so far. Those synths speak to my soul.”
“I’ve noticed that when people do the understated vocals the melodies can sometimes get lost, but I’ve already got the melody stuck in my head. We love to see that… hear that? I’ve already done a full breakdown of As it Was so I’m just going to listen again and not talk much about it. I’ll link that video right here” - she pointed to the bottom of the screen.
She went on listening and dissecting the rest of the album, some of Harry’s favorite comments were:
“Oh my gosh, the harmonics.”
“The upper range! There it is!”
“This was way more emotional. When it got to the bridge and the compressed piano came in, man that’s kind of when the tone shifts. Lyrically wise. The Found Family.”
“Okay, B-Side here we go! Cinema. Very British”
“This seems more like Little Freak. That ending! Very bold”
“I think it would be so easy for him to put out these very pop-genre hits both production and lyrically, just from the position he came from. But he’s not doing that and we’re all just like ‘yes, please more of this’ I’m excited to see what he has in store for us.”
The reaction was over and y/n just sat and stared at the camera for a few moments before she spoke again. “All in all, yes. This deserves the hype it’s getting. I would talk more about chord progression, the various melodies, and more, but this video is already long and I don’t know how I’m going to edit it down.”
She ran her hands over her face and leaned forward allowing her elbows to sit on her knees, hands holding up her face and smiled.
“Remember that my first album was released a couple weeks ago and is available on most music streaming services! Thursday’s are basic music theory videos and Monday’s are my weekly school vlogs… when I have time. Thank you all so much for watching! Leave a comment below and tell me which is your favorite song from the album. Mine or Harry’s” y/n made a sidelong glance at the camera tapping the side of her nose.
Harry liked this girl and her taste in music didn’t hurt either. He decided that it was only fair to listen to her album after she listened to his.
#harry styles x reader#harry styles x you#harry styles#harry styles fic#harry styles fluff#harry x reader#harry styles x musician#harry styles x student#harry's house#harry styles imagines#harry styles writing#harry styles x band!reader#harry styles fan fiction#harry styles x y/n#fanfic#harry's house review
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hoax - part two.
ship: steve harrington x fem!reader
summary: as you had feared, your fake date changed the dynamic between you and steve. but maybe that wasn’t a bad thing.
word count: 2.7k
warnings: swearing, alcohol, princess bride spoilers (kind of? i don’t know, it’s been thirty years, watch the movie and then talk to me about it because it’s my favorite).
author’s note: it’s finally here! hope everyone enjoys it. @taylorsmylover @sllooney @cheerupbarry
part one.
all's well that ends well to end up with you.
After Steve dropped you off at home, life went on. You worked, you studied, you spent time with your friends—including him. Nothing felt off per se, but there was a shift, a change in routine, a difference maybe not dramatic to you, but something the others definitely picked up on.
For movie night, your suggestion The Princess Bride lost handily. Despite that, though, Steve still showed up with a copy.
“Oh,” he’d said, almost sheepish, “this isn’t the one we agreed on? Sorry, guys.”
The two of you sat a little closer on the couch, whispered softer, and giggled more. He rolled his eyes and grumbled when you talked about how cute Cary Elwes was, you playfully smacked his bicep in response. It was a nice, quiet night, totally typical, so you couldn’t figure out why Robin looked so perplexed when you caught her eye from across the room.
Maybe if that had been it—just one weird night of affection—your friends could have left it alone, chalking it up to a lapse of judgment on your part. But it didn’t stop. Hugs went on for too long, and smiles lingered. Any time you passed, his hand somehow found the small of your back, guiding you by. Sure, Steve was known to be affectionate with you, boundaries long abandoned, so it wasn’t that weird. But the way you’d lean into each touch was a new development. Although not as alarming of one as Steve’s very recent lack of flirting.
Cute girl after cute girl passed through Family Video without receiving so much as a wink or a terribly delivered pick up and Robin was becoming increasingly concerned. If he wasn’t sick, and he wasn’t, he wasn’t whining enough for that, it meant something else was going on.
“Harrington,” she hissed one day, eyes wide, “that total babe was throwing herself at you. That, like, never happens.”
“Was she?” Steve’s bewilderment was genuine, he simply hadn’t noticed.
“Come on, you didn’t see that? I could feel the sexual tension from here.”
“Nope,” he answered, popping the ‘P’. “Guess she just wasn’t my type.”
But Robin knew better, he wasn’t exactly discerning; anyone with a pulse and boobies was his type. Something was up and, after conspiring—gossiping—with Eddie, she was determined to figure out what exactly it was.
—
You’d probably never admit it, especially not unprompted, but Tuesday was your favorite day of the week. Sure, you were stuck at work for far too long—three doubles allowed you the freedom to study while also affording you the luxury of paying your bills—but it was also heavy metal night. Pickings were slim in a town the size of Hawkins and, as a result, Corroded Coffin got the chance to basically do a full set and you got to see your friends.
It became routine ever since Eddie joined your little group. You, of course, had no choice but to be in attendance. But Steve and Robin would come by too. Your regulars hadn’t been too receptive to the band—you’d been asked what is this ruckus? too many times to count—so, while none of you were exactly metal heads, you figured three confused, but supportive faces in the crowd couldn’t hurt. Besides, you found if you cheered loud enough, you could get most of the other bargoers on board.
So it was no surprise to see Eddie step through the dinged door, followed promptly by Robin. Even if they were a little early.
“Hey, guys,” you call out, waving.
You duck below the bar where the sanitizing bucket and rags were located. The very brief lull after Happy Hour didn’t allow for much dallying and you were stuck doing your regular tasks in a very short window of time: clean the bar, get clean glasses, and cut up your garnishes.
You grab a torn piece of fabric, dip it in the cleaning solution carefully and stand. You’re barely back to your full height when you’re greeted by Eddie and Robin’s faces just inches from yours. They’re leaning forward, elbows resting on the very surface you need to clean.
“Jesus Christ!” You rear back, free hand jumping to your chest.
“Are you going to tell us what’s going on?” Eddie asks, raising his brows. He can’t help it—he’s curious.
“Yeah,” Robin encourages with a nod, “we don’t keep secrets here.”
You sigh, reaching out and pushing them back gently so you can wipe up rings of condensation and spilled booze. “I’d really like to play along but I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Robin laughs. If it sounds like she doesn’t believe you it’s because she doesn’t. “Uh huh, sure.”
“Something’s up with you and Steve, we can tell.”
You freeze. “I—what?”
“You’re not denying it,” Eddie points out, grinning.
“No, she’s not,” Robin agrees.
It was then you realize what was going on: you were being interrogated. “Nothing’s going on. We’re friends.”
“We’re friends and he’s not all over me,” Robin points out.
“Yeah, I wonder why that is,” you quip.
“The Princess Bride!”
“What?”
“The Princess fucking Bride,” Eddie repeats himself, eyeing you knowingly. “I was finally gonna get you guys to watch Labyrinth and he showed up with that.”
“He grabbed the wrong movie, so what?” You pause. “And you loved The Princess Bride!”
“Yeah,” Eddie admits with a chuckle, “I really did. It has some really badass sword scenes and Andre the Giant, what’s not to like?” All very fair points.
Robin sighs, poking at his shoulder. “You’re getting distracted.” She fixes her gaze on you. “Steve is the worst liar. You gotta know he did that on purpose.”
Alright, yeah, you kinda did. He wasn’t going to be getting any Oscars any time soon. But it was an act you didn’t—couldn’t—think too much about.
If you really considered it, after that night with his parents, a switch flipped, and never went back. You weren’t together, you were still very much just friends, but the touches, the unbridled affection, the soft moments didn’t stop after the facade ended and you weren’t complaining.
The dam had burst and you didn’t think you could go back. You worried if you brought it up, shining a spotlight on the niceties, that it would all end. You were selfish—you wanted it all.
“Okay…” You let out a huff of air. “So, we did kinda go on a date.”
The revelation sends Robin spiraling. “What?” She exclaims, dramatically throwing herself on the bar—she couldn’t just feel her despair, she had to show it too. “And here I thought you were the one girl in town left immune to the Harrington… uh, charm, I guess?”
“Shush,” you admonish, shooting her a warning look. You turn, flashing your customers an apologetic before your focus turns back to your friends. “It wasn’t real.”
“Alright, you lost me now,” Eddie pipes up.
Robin raises her head just enough so she can look up at you through long lashes. “What does that mean?”
“His dad was being a dick about some work dinner and he needed a plus one.” You shrug. “I just had to act like his girlfriend.”
“Oh god,” Robin groans. “Can’t believe we gave him that much credit.”
“Huh?”
“He’s been making goo-goo eyes at you for ages.”
“Mhm,” Eddie hums in agreement. “It’s kinda gross.”
“We thought he finally did something about it. Even though I always thought you were too smart for that.”
They kept going but your mind was reeling. “Goo-goo eyes?”
“You’re still on that?” Robin can’t hide it, she was enjoying this. “Yes, he practically turns into a Bugs Bunny cartoon with giant heart eyes every time he sees you. And, in true dingus fashion, he asks you on a fake date instead of a real one.” She shakes her head. “Makes no sense but it obviously worked on you somehow.”
“It didn’t—I—”
“Oh, come on.”
You blink, there’s nothing for you to say. You can’t exactly argue with Robin but actually agreeing feels wrong too. You’re stuck, two pairs of eyes trained intently on you, and you’re desperate for escape. You scan the crowd of bored-looking customers, none of which seem to eagerly need you, before you catch glimpse of the empty stage.
“Don’t you have a show or something?”
Eddie smirks. He knows what you’re doing but, in an act of pity, he decides to play along. “As a matter of fact, I do. Think the boys should be here by now. Wanna help us set up, Rob?”
“Sure.” She spins around on the stool and, when she gets up, you think you’re free. Until she calls over her shoulder, “Better figure it out soon, lover girl.”
—
Less than an hour later, the stage was full of instruments, microphones, and, most importantly, the band itself. The crowd increased, although not entirely for the music, and you didn’t notice Steve arrived until he was standing right before you.
Your grip on the bottle of Southern Comfort you were holding slackened a bit. All you could think was goo-goo eyes.
“Hey. sweetheart,” he grins, plopping down and claiming the nearest bar stool as his own.
You hold up a finger, letting him know you’d be with him in a minute, as you replace the bottle of whiskey with sloe gin and amaretto—with both hands officially occupied, you poured an ounce of each into the shaker.
“Crazy night,” you let him know, voice just barely able to be heard over the screeching of electric guitars and booming drums. You’re talking but you’ve yet to really look at him.
Orange juice fills the rest of the metal cup before you’re sliding a cover on, throwing it over your shoulder, and shaking the cup from side to side. Once it’s mixed and chilled, you drain it out into a Collins glass, admiring the brightly colored liquid that trickled out. Prettiest Alabama Slammer you’ve made yet.
That drink belongs to the redhead at the end of the bar. You slide it over to her with the friendliest “there ya go, love” you could muster before walking back over to your newest customer.
“Want your regular, Stevie?”
When he gives you the affirmative, you get to work. Whiskey sour, very light on the sour.
It’s easy enough and you’re handing him his drink in record time. In exchange, as always, you get far too much money. You used to argue, your attempt at letting him know he was being too generous, but he’d never budge—if he could, he’d give you even more, you were worth every penny.
He sips it casually while studying you over the rim of the glass. You looked pretty, that never seemed to change, but your shoulders were stiff and your jaw clenched. He could tell something was up. “You seem tense.”
You got that right. “I’m fine, just a little tired, I guess.”
It’s an easy lie after being at work for nine hours but it was one Steve didn’t really buy. Not that he pushed it. The two of you were close enough that he knew if you wanted to talk to him, you would. So he changed the subject. “Where’s Robin?”
“She’s around here somewhere. She showed up with Eddie to help set up.”
“Weird, we always come together.”
“Yeah, weird,” you agree. But he had no idea just how strange it was.
The mention of your mutual friend gets you thinking, though. You have no idea how Steve felt or if what they said was true, but you knew what was going on in your heart and your mind—and it was enough to alarm the people closest to you.
For the sake of the whole group, maybe it would be a good idea to just clear the air.
“Steve?” When he looks at you, you avert your gaze, focusing instead on the hanging wine glasses above the bar. “What are you doing after this?”
“Hanging out with you.” The delivery was smooth, easy. But panic set in as he sat on the words, unease seeping through at the idea that you weren’t asking because you wanted to get together. “You, uh, know if that was like.. what you meant.”
It definitely was. “Come by my place after closing?”
“Yeah, yeah, I can do that.”
—
When you pull up outside your apartment hours later, Steve is already there, leaning against his car, waiting for you. You take a moment just to enjoy the sight—he looked like he belonged there, outside your home—before throwing your car in park and getting out.
“Hey.”
“Hi.”
“Let’s go inside, yeah?” You suggest. “It’s late.”
You lead the way up rickety stairs, past long dead plants you’d since abandoned, and to your front door. It certainly wasn’t Steve’s first time at your place, but you couldn’t help it—you were nervous, unready for the conversation you were going to have to initiate.
You look around for a moment, hoping for a distraction, one that would never come, you nod towards the living room. “We should sit.”
It’s a suggestion, but one Steve eagerly takes. As if it’s not your own home, he places his hand on your back, urging you forward until you’re both on the couch, almost touching.
“You’re freaking me out with how quiet you are.”
You don’t mean to. It’s the one time in your life that you don’t know what to say. Still, you try.
“I talked to Robin and Eddie earlier.”
“The gruesome twosome,” Steve mutters. “They didn’t upset you or anything, did they?” Lord knows when they got together, especially alone, they could be a lot.
Not that he was complaining. Sure, they were a handful, but so were you and Dustin and the rest of the kids. He found himself in more trouble than ever and his blood pressure had certainly risen, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. After years of shitty friends and sycophants, he considered himself lucky to have a group of people who genuinely care for him.
None of that stopped him from worrying about what they could have done, though.
“No, no, nothing like that,” you answer quickly, assuaging his concerns. “I’ve just been thinking about what they said.”
“Uh oh, what was it?”
“This is totally crazy, but they think there’s something going on with us.” You expect Steve to laugh but he doesn’t. His cheeks flush and he looks away but he doesn’t seem to find it humorous.
“They’re too nosey for their own good.” He shaves his head. “If they made you uncomfortable, I’m sorry.”
“I’m not,” you assure him. “I guess I just worried about things getting weird with us or, God forbid, the group.”
“Nothing will ever make things weird with us, you don’t have to worry about that.”
“The thing is... I don’t want anything to change either.” And you really don’t. “I, uh, I really like whatever we’re doing. Maybe too much?” It comes out like a question but it isn’t—it’s just the truth.
“I do too.”
There’s electricity in the air, a good tension.
“I always have,” Steve adds, emboldened by the disclosure. “I know we—I— joked around a lot but I think there always was some truth there.” He reaches over, grabbing ahold of your hand. “Then that night with my parents... which really was a favor, by the way. I didn’t have any gross ulterior motive.”
You squeeze his hand, not needing the assurance. You didn’t know a better human being; there was never a doubt about his intentions. “I know, Steve.”
“It was kinda the same, you know? You were still ridiculously pretty and I got to call you all those cutesy little names you love to hate. But it also felt serious. Like, it wasn’t real but it felt like it was.”
“I get what you mean,” you agree. “It just felt natural. I didn’t really want it to end.”
“What if it didn’t have to?” Steve pauses for a moment, considering his words. “What if we tried it for real this time?”
You smile—big, bright, genuine—and Steve’s brain practically short circuits. “Are you asking me on an actual date?”
“I sure am.”
You can’t help yourself, the confirmation makes you giggle. He looks alarmed and you cover your face. “Hey,” he says, hands gently wrapping around your wrist, pulling your hands back down. “What’s so funny?”
“Robin is going to hate this.”
That gets him to laugh too. “God, you’re right. Especially when we tell her it’s all her fault.”
“If only she kept her mouth shut,” you agree, your shoulder bumping against his.
“But thank God she didn’t.” Steve wraps an arm around you, pulling you even closer. “I might have to send her a fruit basket or something.”
—
#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington imagine#stranger things#stranger things imagine#stranger things x reader#stranger things x you
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☼HICCUPS☼
— ☼
Summary: you wake up to Andrew talking to your baby.
Warnings: dad Andrew, if that makes anyone uncomfortable. Pregnancy, otherwise none, just adorable fluff.
Author’s Note: First chapter to my Silly Love Songs series!!! This ones gonna be good. Check out the master list, the info page and details should be posted soon! I love him you guys, I don’t think you understand.
— ☼
MUMBLING COULD BE HEARD JUST BESIDE YOU AS YOU SLOWLY WOKE UP. You could suddenly feel how heavy your eyes were, signaling how tired you still were. Your feet were sore, your back was sore, pretty much every part of you was sore, yet it still didn’t cease the smile that spread across your lips. It was a faint smile, you didn't want to ruin Andrew’s moment with the fetus inside your stomach by letting him know you were awake. So you kept your eyes shut, hearing the small shushing from Andrew as he traced soft patterns against your exposed stomach.
“Careful little Roo, you don’t want to wake up your mummy. She really needs the sleep. You can kick for me when mum wakes up okay?” Andrew said softly, chuckling slightly when the baby continued small movements. He looked up at you with a nervous look on his face before sighing, kissing your stomach softly as he hummed soothingly, trying to calm the baby.
It was a shock, when you found out you were pregnant. You were 29, well into your relationship with Andrew, fresh off just being married. You had talked about children before, the two of you would always agree on wanting to have them but the conversations usually ended there. It wasn’t like you were trying to have a baby, but you weren’t really doing anything to avoid it either.
When you found out, you were nervous, and shocked, and excited all at the same time. And of course, Andrew was over the moon with joy. Ever since that day he had been the perfect husband (not that he wasn’t already). Foot Massages after work, carrying everything you needed to carry, holding back your hair when you would get sick, waking up every morning to him talking to the baby…this and so much more. He truly was a godsend, and you couldn’t be happier to have him.
Finally deciding you had been fake sleeping for long enough, you shifted slightly in your sleep, before fake yawning as you opened your eyes. Andrew looked up at you with a soft smile.
“Good morning love.” He whispered sweetly, kissing your cheek as you held his cheek in your left hand, your thumb softly rubbing against his cheek bone.
“Morning.” You replied, as he grabbed your other hand, intertwining your fingers with his before kissing your knuckles.
“Did I wake you darling?” He asked, still tracing pattern over your stomach. You smiled at his worry, shaking your head before placing a hand on your bump beside his.
“No,” you said, smiling as you moved his hand to the spot were the baby was moving most. “He has the hiccups.”
Andrew smiled in amazement down at your stomach as he chuckled. He glanced at you before kissing your hand again. So affectionate this one.
“The hiccups huh?” He asked, a wide smile on his face. You bit your lip, nodding as you both stared at your bump.
“Yeah, the doctor says it happens at this stage.”
He nodded, running his hand across the round of your belly before taking a deep breath.
“You gotta hold your breath buddy.” Andrew explained, making you chuckle. He tangled his fingers with yours again, his other hand rested below yours on your stomach. “Like this.” Andrew took in a breath, holding it in. You smiled, watching the scene before you in awe.
“Let me help.” I mumbled, now holding my breath as well. After a few seconds we both let out the air we had been holding in, smiling as the movement stopped. Andrew cheered.
“That’s my boy.” He whispered, placing another kiss against your stomach. It was sweet, and comforting, and mostly like these were probably your favorite parts of your pregnancy. The way he smiled with adoration, his whole world in his arms when he held you. There was no doubt in your mind that Andrew was the love of your life. And there wasn’t a day that went by that you weren’t filled with gratitude that he was yours.
#andrew garfield#andrew garfield x reader#dad andrew garfield#dad andrew#andrew Garfield fluff#andrew garfield fluff#andrew garfield imagine
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The Knight and Her Princess (Mal x Reader)
Request: Mal x Reader. Someone continues to flirt with R so jealous Mal is showing and everyone teases her about it and R is so oblivious to the person flirting with R?
Author’s Note: @literaryhedgehog and I took some liberties with this one. We set it in a midevil time, and had a lot of fun working together. I hope you enjoy the first little step into helping me unblock my writers block.
“Remind me again why I can’t kill them?” Mal huffed, crossing her arms and glaring at Dansby, her adoptive brother. He was standing too close to you, looking at you with the same expression he did to many a maiden who ended up in his bed chambers.
“Because it would be treason to kill the crown prince?” Lindsey shrugged, smirking just a bit at the princesses’ predicament. “Also fratricide is generally frowned upon in modern society.”
Mal rolled her eyes. “Are you going to bring up the Romans again? 100 years ago some men walked around and stabbed each other in the back and wore no clothes, very barbaric, I get it.”
“Closer to 500 years ago, dear,” Lindsey corrected, sipping her wine. “And I think you might be deflecting a bit.”
“I am not. Y/n is free to whisper with whomever she pleases. As long as she saves a dance for me,” Mal grumbled, her eye nearly twitched when Dansby leaned in to say something directly in your ear.
“Whatever you say, but I think you should just talk to her,” Lindsey smiled and bobbed a curtsy. Mal watched her as she crossed the room, the hem of her ball gown floating over the floor as she made her way over to some of the other ladies in your household. You saw Emily look up and move to stand with her, their heads bent towards one another to be heard over the orchestra.
Perhaps Lindsey was right. It wouldn’t hurt to join the conversation between you and the prince…
******
“Excellent jousting today, really,” Dansby said, twirling a ring absentmindedly around a finger as he smiled at you. “You really know how to handle a stick.”
“My father and brothers taught me how to joust when I was young. It’s always been one of my favorite activities,” You shrugged, taking a sip of your cider. It was tart, but you were grateful it was even being served. At a formal event like this one there weren’t enough children around for drinks with such low alcohol contents to be necessary. But you liked feeling in control. Not being allowed your weapons made you nervous, adding strong wine or ale to the mix would just make your jumpiness that much worse.
Dansby chuckled, but you felt more like he was laughing at you than with you. “You’re a funny one, maybe I should take you from the princesses’ detail and add you to mine. Might help lighten the mood at some of our negotiations,”
“You have Julie, and she’s the best of any of us,” you said, proud of your friend. Julie was one of the most impressive female guards you had ever trained with. Even Captain Vladko had to work to hold his own against her. And her kicking the ass of anyone who went against her in the melee tournament today was truly a joy to watch. “Plus I like protecting Mal.”
“What about Mal?” The princess in question asked, wrapping an arm around your waist and effectively inserting herself into the conversation.
You took another sip of your drink, hopefully hiding the heat in your cheeks at the touch. Ladies were affectionate with each other all the time, you reminded yourself, no one would think Mal meant anything by it.
“Your guard is very loyal,” Dansby said, turning to his younger sister with a bemused smile. “No matter the positions or other favors I suggested, she is determined to remain part of your retinue.”
Mal smiled thinly at him. “Yes I’m sure those positions of yours sounded very enticing. However, if I were you I would find some lady to dance with in the next few seconds, because I think mother is making her way over with an eligible countess. Best look busy.”
“It appears you’re right,” Dansby peered over your shoulder and adjusted his sleeve. “If you ladies will please excuse me. And Mal, don’t have too much fun without me,” He said, sending the princess a knowing wink before heading towards the dance floor. She wouldn’t intervene in one of his conquests for just anybody. He would consider the message received, loud and clear. You were off limits.
Mal unfolded a fan, and waved it gently in front of her face. “So, what were you talking about?”
You shrugged, trying not to stare at the curl of hair that was dancing around her cheek as the fan sent air its way. “The tournament mainly. He was impressed with my score at the joust.” Your hand twitched at the place on your belt where your sword would normally hang. “I wish I scored lower. Then I could be working this ball instead of attending it.”
Mal pulled you closer to her, so she could rest her chin on your shoulder and speak directly in your ear. “But you wouldn’t get to dance with me,”
“Now that would be a travesty,” You hummed.
Mal just smirked at your tone. “Wouldn’t it?”
“May I have this dance m’lady?” You bowed low and held out a hand in front of you. Mal tucked her fan into her pocket and took it, letting you lead her onto the dance floor.
The music swelled around you and and the lights dimmed as the orchestra began the ‘romantic’ portion of its set. It felt like you were in a fairytale, as you pulled the princess to your chest and began to sway. The people around you seemed to fade, leaving just the two of you to twirl in peace for a moment. To just be with each other in the way you so deeply craved.
Mal sighed, leaning closer to you so you could hear her speak softly over the music. “I hate that we can’t tell anyone we’re attached sometimes. I understand why you would get moved to a different position, it being a potential conflict of interest and all, but watching men flirt with you kills me every time.”
“I know darling. It kills me too, especially when your mother starts talking about suitors,” You said, trying to keep the bitter note out of your voice, but Mal heard it anyway.
“I had a talk with her and my father. She promised she wouldn’t do that anymore,” Mal shrugged. “Well to me anyway. She still wants my brother to work on an heir and a spare. Father can’t wait until you join our family line, and he can hold your jousting skills over everyone.”
“That’s wonderful,” you said, twirling her around and back to face you. “Though I don’t feel much like royalty material sometimes.”
“Well Dansby obviously thought you were, the way he was flirting with you just now,” Mal said lightly, not letting the annoyance show in her voice.
You tripped over your next step. “Wait, is that what he was doing? I thought he was just trying to get training tips for the next tournament.”
Mal laughed. Oh you would give anything to make her laugh like this every day. “Clearly he’s not as perceptive as father.”
You raised your eyebrows at her.
“Neither of my parents were surprised.” She said simply.
“Apparently I’m not very perceptive either,”you said smiling.
The song ended and everyone applauded as the orchestral members stood and bowed.
As they sat down to begin the next song Mal grabbed your hand and pulled you from the dance floor out into the gardens. It was a quiet night, and as you strolled beside the hedges the murmur of the ballroom behind you joined the background noise of the crickets and falling water.
“You know, the court would lose their heads if they caught us out here. Can’t you hear them now? A knight and a princess, alone at night. How utterly scandalous,” You said in mock horror, entirely expecting Mal to giggle with you.
But she didn’t. She paused, pulling you to a stop. “Let them talk,” She said, flipping open her fan and drawing it across her cheek.
“But aren’t you concerned for your virtue and all that?”
“I am never afraid of anything when I’m with you, Mal said, looking up at you, the stars reflecting in her eyes, “you’re my knight.”
Your gaze flickered between her eyes and her lips as you slowly closed the distance between you, giving her the chance to pull away if she wanted. She met you halfway instead, softly connecting her lips with yours.
The fan moved behind you, shielding the two of you from view of the ballroom. This moment was yours alone. If anyone were to look out into the garden they would be hard pressed to imagine the passion between a lady knight and her princess.
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crawl home to her, b.b. x reader
chapter one // body’s working on empty
summary: bucky isn’t as receptive to this new life of his as everyone had hoped. he’s cold, sharp-tongued, and closed off. except to the tenant across the hallway from him, who always wears pajamas and bakes a dozen too many of his favorite cookies
warnings: food, nothing too bad this chapter!
word count: 1.5k-ish
author’s note: i thought my marvel phase ended five years ago...here we are again. i haven’t written in awhile so please be kind! title and chapter titles taken from hozier’s ‘work song’.
[ read on ao3 | series masterlist | inbox | join my taglist! ]
[ NEXT ]
Five minutes into their first session, Bucky decided he was going to make Dr. Raynor’s job as difficult as he possibly could.
It wouldn’t be an impossible task, seeing how this whole ordeal depended on him opening up and talking, two things that he had abandoned decades ago. Her unwavering stare was nothing more than a challenge, these fifty-minute sessions once a week were nothing more than a slight inconvenience to his lackluster day to day routine. He would play along, do whatever exercises she asked, and feign stability until he never had to see her again.
“Since this is our first session together, we’ll take it easy.” She promised with a forced upturn of her lips before whipping out her notebook.
Suddenly, it felt like he was encased in bulletproof glass in Berlin again. He remembered that the last time he had been forced into receiving psychiatric help, it hadn’t exactly gone to plan. His chin fell to his chest, hands wringing together as he thought of any excuse to request a different doctor.
“Let’s begin.”
It was already getting too hot to wear leather gloves and his heavy jacket. New York’s heatwave was supposed to be the highest on record this year and while kids popped open fire hydrants in the street, Bucky would be settled on the hardwood floor in the back corner of his apartment, waiting.
Waiting for what, he wasn’t quite sure.
It was a fairly nice apartment, newly renovated and practically barren. Government issued and funded, of course, and he had spent the first night pulling the furniture from the walls to the center of the room in search of bugs and cameras. He found thirty-four, destroyed them under a rolling pin, and they hadn’t come to replace them. Message received.
The one thing he really liked about the apartment building were his neighbors. The price tag for a one bedroom was substantial to say the least and only older couples could really afford it. No children, no dogs, no outsiders. The only break from his undisturbed routine would be occasionally helping Mrs. Johnson down the hall carry her groceries as she struggled to get the door unlocked with her brittle hands.
They affectionately called him James and the older women were quick to get a hold of his arms, saying things like “They don’t make them like you anymore, James!”. He swallowed the bile prickling at the back of his throat as he nodded, and they moved on to telling him about their single granddaughters.
It was almost nice, his routine. Almost.
Outside of those small encounters, he spent most of his waking hours jogging in the park and cooking the same three meals. He had his appointment every Wednesday with Dr. Raynor, but that was it. He’d take two trains back to his apartment and wouldn’t emerge again until he needed groceries two days later.
It was when he was returning from one of his biweekly grocery trips, a paper bag settled on his hips, that he spotted you outside his door.
He stilled in the hallway, taking a quick step back to peek around the corner without being spotted. His breath stalled, his ears picking up your soft humming and the crinkle of plastic as you set a bundle of cookies at his doorstep, the only one without a mat. His eyes flicked to the other doors, where identical bags of cookies sat propped up, tied with blood red ribbons.
His shoulders relaxed. No threat.
The bottom of his grocery bag suddenly gave way, fruit rolling in every direction. Bucky fell to his knees, glove clad hands snatching up everything he could reach as quickly as he could manage. You were faster, though, and scooped up a plum that had rolled your way, offering it over as he tried to balance the rest of his groceries in his arms.
“Thanks.” He was quick to sweep past you, hand digging in his pockets for his key.
“James, right? Ms. Robinson downstairs is like, in love with you.”
“Yeah, but, uh-“ Dr. Raynor’s instructions from their last session rang in his head, as much as he tried to tune her out: make connections. “You can call me Bucky.” He cleared his throat. “And Mrs. Robinson is far too good for me.”
“Bucky it is then.” You trailed him down the hallway, “Y/N.”
Bucky tried to sneak a glance at you from the corner of his eyes, which was harder to inconspicuously do now that he had gotten a haircut and couldn’t hide his wandering eyes behind long tresses. Young was Bucky’s first thought. much younger than the other renters in the building. Bright was next, followed by much too smiley for a Tuesday morning.
Pretty, he admitted as he turned his back to unlock his door. Maybe in another life he would have lingered in the hall, his so-called effortless charm seeping through as you swooned at the very thought of a date with James Buchanan Barnes. But that life was long gone, and instead he rushed to retreat.
“Oh, don’t forget these.” You swooped down to collect the bundle of cookies you had left at his door, handing them to the hand that wasn’t delicately balancing the pile of groceries he still held against his impossibly broad shoulders. “Oatmeal raisin, super-secret family recipe.”
He was back in the doorway of his ma’s kitchen, watching his little sister balance on a wobbling stool as she struggled to crack and egg with her little fingers. He can so distinctly see the pale green of the cabinets, remember the fight his parents had when she begged for that shade of green while his dad had wanted white. Of course, she won.
“These are your brother’s favorite.” His ma whispered to his sister; her flour covered hands reaching for the age faded index card with their grandmother’s script detailing the ingredients. “Our family’s recipe. One day, you will make these for your children. And your children’s children.”
Rebecca, still so young and with a hatred for smelly boys deep in her bones, giggled at the mere thought as her fingers fished out the bits of eggshell that snuck their way into the bowl. She wiped it away on the spare apron tied twice around her waist, much too big for her.
Bucky would never see her grow into it. He would be drafted only a few months later.
In the meantime, he would bundle half a dozen of them in a tea towel and split them with Steve on the walk to the movie theater. Steve would begrudgingly admit that Buck’s ma made the best cookies, but his made the best brisket. They’d sneak in through the back door and do it all again the next weekend, until they ran out of weekends together.
“Oatmeal raisin are my favorite.” He admitted, accepting your offering like a stray cat does to the first scrap of food from a stranger.
“I think you’re the only person under the age on one hundred to ever say that.” You teased, backing away to the door adjacent to his, “Anyway, don’t tell me things like that. I’m a stress baker and with finals coming up…” You winced at the image of the dozens of batches you would surely be whipping up in the coming weeks.
“Finals?”
“Law school, one semester left.” You fished your own keys from your back pocket. Bucky barely held in the scoff at the shiny Spider-Man keychain that dangled from your fingers. “You?”
“Oh, no. I haven’t been in school in what feels like…a century.”
“Well, I’m all alone here and as much as I would love to, I can’t eat everything that I bake. So, expect a few dozen muffins and cookies every few days.”
“No arguing from me, doll.”
You both lingered in the small hallway, only a few steps apart, each leaning against your respective doors. Keys in each hand, with no intention of using them any time soon.
“Law school, you said? How do you afford a place like this?” Bucky was sure he was the only recently pardoned fugitive under this room.
“Well, this used to be my grandma’s apartment and it was handed down to me in a maybe no so legal way. If the landlord asks, I’m an eighty-year-old woman who doesn’t know how to work her answering machine.”
He huffed a laugh, mostly because that wasn’t particularly far from how he felt with today’s tech. The flip phone that Dr. Raynor had described as archaic sat heavy in his back pocket with only three names programed into his contacts. Don’t get him started on his television.
“Nice to meet you, Bucky.”
With that, you each stepping into your respective apartments. Bucky stalled at his door for a moment, listening as you locked and dead bolted your door behind you. He sighed, dumping his half-ruined groceries on his barren kitchen island.
The next day, he’d have another appointment with Dr. Raynor. This time when he’d say I’m trying, as he did each week, it wouldn’t be a complete lie. His phone buzzed in his back pocket.
2 New Messages
From: Sam
You coming up this weekend?
Don’t ignore me this time. He’s getting worse, Buck.
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes x you#marvel imagine#tfatws imagine#crawl home to her#sab writes
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Sterek Fic Recs Part 3
[You can find the first two lists here: Fluffy Sterek Recs & Sterek Fic Recs. Also here's a special fic, check it out]
First off, thank you all for a 100 followers!! As of September 7, 2021 you've made me feel really, really good about my obsession with two oblivious idiots (with sprinkles of the hale pack and other fandoms), and this is my way of thanking you ♥️
If you're on PC, you can see that there is a page dedicated solely to fic recs, which caters to other ships & fandoms too. So don't feel left out if you're looking for something other than Sterek!
Without further ado, let's get to it then!
an awful curse
Isaac is asleep in a chair. The angle of his neck makes Derek wince in sympathy.
"Isaac," Derek says.
Isaac snaps awake immediately.
"You're-"
"Where's Stiles?"
"Stiles?" Isaac asks.
Jesus. It's not like they know more than one.
AU - Canon Divergence | 6.3k | By blinkiesays
Throw Away The Key
Stiles knew it was stupid to go to the hunters’ headquarters all by himself, so when he finds himself caught, he can really only blame himself.
It shouldn't surprise Stiles when the situation quickly goes from bad to worse as the hunters throw him to a feral werewolf waiting to tear him apart.
Sucks that it's Derek, though.
AU - Canon Divergence | 5.9k | By mommymuffin
Whatever Happened Last Night, Why Did Glitter Have to Be Involved?
Derek rolled out of bed in search of his phone - quickly finding it in the pair of jeans that had evidently been tossed aside haphazardly on the way to the bed. Seeing the pants sparked flashes of memories - wolfsbane-laced alcohol, loud music, multicolored lights.
Peter’s new supernatural-friendly club - the pack had gone to the opening night party.
He unlocked his phone and opened the pack group chat, which Erica had affectionately named ‘Moon Sluts’.
>>Derek: What the fuck happened last night
[or: Derek wakes up with three things on his mind: he feels like he was punched by a troll, his mate is missing, and there's glitter covering his bed. Oh, and the pack group chat is mildly helpful]
**
Prompt #159 - “Also, my bed has glitter in it for reasons I do not recall.”
Crack Vibes | 1.2k | By ash_mcj
Good to Eat
So if Stiles married Derek Hale, he could become Jewish too? Perfect. It was settled. Stiles gleefully shoveled a forkful of cheesy shells into his mouth.
"Uh oh. I know that look.” Claudia shook her head.
"Don’t worry, Mom, ” Stiles said, reaching for his plastic Batman cup.
"I’ve got a plan.”
"Good luck, Derek Hale,” his mother muttered.
Rude.
AU - Childhood Friends | 1.7k | By Jmeelee
Murder Brows and Avoidance Tactics
Derek gets the wrong end of the stick.
Written for prompt: "You're jealous, aren't you?"
AU - Everybody Lives | 2k | By Dragonink13
Double Vision (only registered users can read this one)
"So what caused my hearing and sense of smell to dull?"
Deaton's brow furrowed, all amusement vanishing from his face. "What do you mean?"
Derek snapped, letting loose all of his anger and fear at the man before him. "I mean I can't hear your heartbeat or the cars down below or the birds in the attic! I can't smell the flowers in Mrs. Everett's apartment, I can't smell the rotting burger in the fridge that Isaac left in there a month ago, I can't smell or hear anything like I normally can!" Deaton mouth was pressed into a thin line. "Can you explain that?!"
Tumblr Prompt: Derek jealous of himself.
AU - Everyone Lives | 6.1k | By Novkat21
Kiss?
Derek likes kissing Stiles, honestly he does. Until he doesn't.
Fluff | 3.6k | By clotpolesonly
Oblivious Misadventures, and Other Such Tales
Going to college was exciting and new, a chance for new friends and a fresh start, and the best part was, there was a supernatural fraternity on campus, meaning Scott finally had the freedom to be himself.
Then he met the resident human who came with a stalker alpha. What was the point of a supernatural fraternity if he still had to pretend to be human. And seriously, did Stiles ever fall asleep somewhere normal?
--
(aka - Five TImes Scott Found Derek and Stiles Sleeping, and the One Time He Didn't)
AU, Supernatural is real but not known by everyone, Alive Hale Family | 11.2k | By Little Spoon
Call Me (Cliché)
When the sheriff's sister ends up in a wheelchair for the duration of summer, Stiles' dreams of three months full of pack bonding, late-night video games and bro-time with Scott come crashing down. He's temporarily relocated to Redford, a three hour drive away, and he can already tell he won't be getting many visitors.
Sure the pack will forget about him while he's gone, Stiles is determined to make the most of his summer of isolation, training his body and mind - and his magic - so he can come back with a bang, and maybe catch a certain Sourwolf's eye.
Then Derek shows up at his window one night with a flimsy excuse about needing research done. Suddenly, his summer away is looking a whole lot more interesting.
AU - Canon Divergence | 84.6k | By Orphan_Account aka the author has dissociated themselves from the fic
Shiver
Stiles has really, really cold hands. Luckily, Derek knows just what to do about that.
Established Relationship | 1.7k | By canistakahari
Derek Hale's Possible Heart
An anon sent me a sterek prompt for Laura teasing Derek and Stiles joining in, then somehow sharing their feelings for each other in the mess of things.
AU - Canon Divergence | 4.3k | By loserchildhotpants
What's a Secret Identity?
Stiles sipped at a mug of coffee, absently watching the news play in the break room. Because of course a news station couldn't play anything other than its own content, even in the one part of the office that was supposed to be a safe space from work. His interview with Superman was making a rerun and Stiles glanced at Derek before commenting absently, “I’d totally let Superman fuck me.”
Derek, who had been in the middle of a swig of coffee, choked violently, “That’s not something I needed to know at nine in the morning, Stiles.”
Stiles raised an eyebrow. “What time would you prefer I tell you about all of the things I would let Superman do to my body?”
AU, Derek is Superman | 7k | By Chrystie, imabignerd and kate882
i see that you've come so far [just like them old stars]
But her big brother’s unwillingness to touch anyone, like he thinks he doesn’t deserve it isn’t the only thing she notices. She also notices how Stiles doesn’t touch him.
Everyone reaches for Derek in some form or another, but Stiles- Stiles is something different altogether because he reaches for Derek but he never makes contact.
He’ll be trying to shimmy past Derek and instead of putting a hand on his arm like most of them do, he’ll reach out with a hand and stop it scant centimeters away from Derek’s skin.
Or they’ll be walking alongside each other and Stiles will hover a hand on Derek’s lower back.
It’s both fascinating and tragic to watch, like NASA lost control of one of their robots and instead of it landing on the moon it’s fated to gravitate around it.
AU - Canon Divergence | 2.3k | By crossroadswrite
Déjà Vu
There’s a shop in Beacon Hills that no one knows anything about except that the mysterious proprietor, a witch in whispered circles, knows what you need before you do and that the things given are always just what you need.
Derek, lost after a breakup, heads into the shop to see if he can find something to help him forget his ex. The witch gives him a potion to drink, and when Derek wakes up, he finds he’s sixteen again and there’s a new student at his school, Stiles Stilinski.
Everything is familiar and yet not, and Derek finds he’s strangely drawn to Stiles in a way that is entirely supernatural.
AU, Supernatural is Real | 8.8k | By gremlins-came-and-got-me and StaciNadia
Start Small, Like Oak Trees
The months following Allison's death have passed Stiles by in a haze of monotony. He sleepwalks through days that seem to lose their color, an unwilling passenger in a body he no longer trusts. Eventually, he thinks, he'll just fade away. He isn't sure anyone would notice. Then, during a spur of the moment grocery run, he stumbles upon Derek Hale attempting to console a lost child, and for the first time in recent memory the world doesn't seem so awful.
He's not sure what he'd been expecting when he eventually convinces Derek to move into the Stilinski's spare bedroom, but a newfound passion for weeding and topsoil certainly isn't it.
AU - Canon Divergence | 24.2k | By SmallBirds
Undercover K9
As it usually goes, Derek acts before he thinks. This time he has a good reason, though-it's all Stiles' fault. Mostly.
Or, that time when Derek volunteered to spend all his spare time as a wolf with the Beacon Hills Sheriff's Office K9 Unit, just to protect Stiles' dumb ass.
Future Fic | 17.9k | By Cobrilee
Rose Colored Glasses
“Obviou—um, what? Derek?” Stiles managed. “What? You’re not colorblind. You’re colorblind?”
“Yes.” Derek said gruffly. “And?”
“And? What do you mean and? You can’t see colors?” Stiles demanded, thrown. “Does it—what kind is it? Red-green? Blue-yellow? Why doesn’t—oh my god, is this why your entire freaking wardrobe was completely black until like two years ago? Oh my god!”
“There’s nothing wrong with having a favorite color, Stiles.”
Established Relationship | 2.2k | By SassyStarboard
1,460 Days (gotta clean my slate)
Two years after Scott becomes Alpha and Derek gives it up for Cora, Stiles gets hurt during a fight and ends up in a coma for two weeks. According to the nurse, a guy has been visiting him every day and, as much as he wishes it were Derek, it sounds a lot like Scott. Except he and Scott aren't even friends anymore.
AU - Canon Divergence | 10k | By army_of_angels
This is it for now. Happy reading y'all! ♥️
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Kiss Me
Charlie Gillespie x Reader
Title: Kiss Me
Words: 1593
Summary: Charlie’s back from Hawaii and providing social media with all the content.
Requested: No. I had to write this after that video of Charlie singing in the bath tub…
TW: Implications of sexual intercourse, mostly the reader getting frustrated by Charlie being Charlie.
Author’s notes: I just wanted to write a bit of domesticity between Charlie and the reader, and thanks to all the content we got from him the other day, this kinda just fell into place. I hope you like it. - also, a little shout out to @dream-a-little-bigger-x because she’s been giving us some AMAZING fic content, and she isn’t feeling to great today. I hope this helps a little, Nele.
Three weeks without being able to see Charlie in the flesh had been hard. Yeah, he’d posted photos and videos while he’d been away in Hawaii with his castmates and Kenny, but it wasn’t the same. Neither were the intimate FaceTime calls the two of you shared pretty much daily. Nothing beat being able to wrap your arms around him, to feel the warmth of his skin against yours, to smell the scent that was intrinsically him. Yeah, you’d missed him like crazy.
Checking your watch, again, before checking the arrivals board you leaned up against the wall behind you waiting for his flight to disembark the plane and make their way through to the arrivals lounge. You scrolled through your Instagram feed, checking out what people had been tagging your boyfriend in, amazed by the talent of his fans. More than anything, you wanted to share them, but as no one knew about you, you couldn’t. It was a good thing you ran a semi-popular fan account that you could do it all from, and your story was full of amazing artwork and song covers. As far as your followers knew, you were just another fangirl.
You were so engrossed in the pictures on the screen in front of you, you didn’t hear Charlie approaching you, didn’t know he was right in front of you until grabbed you by the waist, making you squeal in shock and almost drop your phone.
“Oh my God, Charlie. You scared me.” You laughed, flinging your arms around his neck, breathing him in.
“I would say I’m sorry, but my mom taught me that lying makes my nose grow and my tongue fall out. And I don’t think you’d want that.” He teased after placing a quick kiss on your lips.
“Well, no. But it would be quieter around the apartment.” Your response made him pull away and pout. “What? Am I lying?”
“I thought you loved me.” If he hadn’t been grinning like the loveable idiot he was, you would have believed his offended tone of voice was real.
“Oh, you know I adore you. Shall we go home?” as you slide your phone into your pocket, you take hold of his hand and lead him out to the parking lot where his car is parked. “Do you want to drive, or shall I?”
“You, please.” You know he’s not the most confident of flyers, so you understand his need to chill for a while before he’s at full Gillespie – a term you coined not long after the two of you met and he was his usual ‘constant overdrive’ self. He was always moving, doing something with his hands, or exploring. Charlie Gillespie didn’t do bored or sitting still very well.
Once you’re back at the apartment you share Charlie sets about unpacking his case, dumping his clothes in the washer straight away. It always strikes you how domestic he is. You’re not the best at remembering to do stuff, but he always manages to catch what you miss.
“Have you got to go to work?” he asks you as he leans up against the counter while you prepare some food for the two of you. You work at a TV studio, but the show you work on is on a break so your hours are more flexible than they would be normally.
“No, I’m all yours for a couple of days.” Your words make him grin before he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you in for a kiss.
Your kiss had led to more of an intimate reunion which led you both to your bedroom for most of the day. By the time you emerged, it was almost dark outside and the food you’d been preparing needed to be tossed in the trash. You couldn’t complain though because you’d been able to show Charlie just how much you’d missed him.
___________________________
After the insanity that was Charlie’s delivery from and subsequent live with Madison’s dad, you now had a billboard poster partially unfolded in your bedroom. Naturally, because he was often a child in an adult’s body, Charlie had been like a kid at Christmas when he’d been allowed to open the box. Off camera, he’d been able to slide the parcel that had been included with your name on – Mr. Reyes had so kindly included a hoodie for you which you were now wearing while you stared at the space around you in horror.
“Charlie, babe. Did you have to open it in here? You heard what he said, it took up their entire back yard. Our bedroom is like a shoebox.”
“Yeah, I kinda got carried away. Sorry.” Leaning over, so he wouldn’t rip the poster, he planted a kiss on your lips.
“Well, don’t expect me to help you fold it back up.” With a grin, you turned on your heel and flounced out of the room to post screenshots from the live to your fan account. Only Charlie knew about it and had followed you early on. Eventually, after hearing him swearing and falling over, you went in and helped him fold the damn thing up. It took a ridiculous amount of time, but it was soon back in the box ready to be transported to Canada in Charlie’s car when the both of you went back for Christmas.
Exhausted, you flopped onto the couch and decided to order in some food rather than cook. But first, you took a sweaty selfie and sent it to Madison.
I love your dad, but please don’t let him send us anymore billboard posters. It took two hours to get it back in the damn box.
Her reply was instant.
Dad never expected him to unfold the thing. Love to you both. She wasn’t wrong. Only the man you adored would have ever done that, and live on the internet too. Shaking your head, you ordered pizza.
“Babe, I need a favor.” Charlie spoke as he tidied up the pizza boxes and soda cans from your dinner, making you groan. You were still exhausted, and now a little bloated. All you wanted to do was to slouch and watch a movie, curled up in Charlie’s arms.
“What?”
“Help me set up my phone in the bathroom.” That got your attention.
“Er… why?”
He scratched at the back of his head, a sheepish look on his beautiful face that was covered in the stubble you adored.
“I want to do a couple of videos.”
“And you have to do it now? Haven’t you done enough today?” you close your eyes as you lean your head on the back of the couch. You sense Charlie standing behind you, and when you open your eyes again, he’s looking down at you, the puppy dog eyes in force. Even upside down, he knows what they do to you. “I hate you, did you know that?” you tell him affectionately. With a grin, he bends over and captures your lips in a searing kiss.
“I promise, I’ll make it up to you.” With a chuckle, he runs his jaw along yours, knowing the roughness of his stubble is a huge turn on for you.
“Yes, yes you will.” You pull away and stand up. The sooner you get this done, the sooner the two of you can snuggle, and the sooner you can claim your owed favor.
Grabbing the car keys from the sideboard, you head down to the car to get the phone holder. You figure the suction cup works on the car’s windscreen, so should work on the glass screen. When you get back into the apartment, Charlie’s changed clothes and has his guitar in his hand.
“Remind me why you can’t do this from the couch?” you ask, walking into the bathroom. It’s tiny and you know Charlie’s going to regret his decision, but when he mumbles about acoustics you keep your mouth shut. Trying to change his mind when it’s made up is nigh on impossible.
You manage to secure the phone holder to the shower screen you’d cleaned that morning, pull it across the tub, and leave the small space.
“All ready for you, maestro.” You call out as you enter the lounge. Charlie stands up, kisses you and disappears into the bathroom. You fully plan on putting the TV on, choosing a random Hallmark Christmas movie to watch, and wait for him to finish, but when you hear his clear voice singing what he knows is one of your favorite Ed Sheeran songs, you can help but go and stand at the end of the tub and watch him morph from Charlie your doofus boyfriend to Charlie the star.
You watch him, with a smile on your face, as he records a video for his Instagram reel, messing it up a couple of times and having to restart a few times, making you laugh.
“If you can’t be quiet, you’re gonna have to leave.” He scolds you without any anger in his voice.
“I’ll behave. For now.” You wink at him as he starts to record again. Once he’s done, he says he wants to do one more, slightly longer for his Tiktok account.
“Last try, because my leg’s falling asleep.” He speaks into the camera once it’s recording.
I’m in love now
Kiss me like you wanna be loved
Wanna be loved, wanna be loved,
Wanna be loved, yeah
As he sings, he looks up, catching your eye and smiling. In that moment, you fall in love with him all over again.
.
.
.
.
.
Taglist: - if you want to be added, please send me an ask, just in case I happen to miss any comments
@dream-a-little-bigger-x @calamitykaty @crybabyddl @xplrreylo @morganayennefertyrell @lovesanimals @sunsetcurvenotsunsetswerve @echocharm17618 @kinda-really-lost @n0wornever @all-in-fangirl @5sosmukefan
#Charlie Gillespie#Charlie Gillespie fic#Charlie gillespie x reader#charlie x reader#Mich writes fic
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First Line Meme
Rules: list the first lines of your last 20 stories. see if there are any patterns. then tag your favorite authors.
Thank you @onekisstotakewithme for tagging me! I'm going to follow your example and include WIPs/Unpublished (but only for stories that I'm very sure are happening or are already mostly done) to keep things interesting :)
Unpublished
The Bureau Files: Series 6 WIP (TCR)
To say that things had changed in the Cat Bureau in the last handful of years would, perhaps, be a bit of an understatement.
Wildfarers All WIP (WitW)
It is a truth universally acknowledged that a toad cannot drive a motor car.
Half a Heart WIP (TCR)
The first time he sees her smile, he has no idea of the impact it will one day have on him.
Mission: Amphibian WIP (WitW)
Mrs and Mr Hedgehog, of the Wild Wood, were proud to say that they were perfectly respectable animals, thank you very much.
Published:
Talpa silvestris (WitW)
There is a phrase along the Riverbank. It goes as such: 'Which was wild first – the wood or the wooders?'
Marry Me Twice (TCR)
It is almost exactly ten years to the day after the Cat Kingdom adventure when Haru finds a worrying familiar scroll on her doorstep.
Unravelled (TCR)
Once upon a time, there was a magic flower.
Helluva House (TOH & Helluva Boss) (Collab)
Blitzo stood and watched his darling Loonie read out the spell from Stolas' grimoire and draw the symbol to open up the portal to the human world.
Mother Dearest (WitW)
Toad never spoke of his mother.
a toad, a badger, and a rat walk into a bar… (WitW)
The day that Badger learnt about the tunnels beneath Toad Hall started out, as many such stories do, with a single drink.
Sing No More (WitW)
It had been a bitter winter that year. A selfish winter, taking so much and giving nothing in return.
things you said when we were on top of the world (WitW)
It was three o'clock in the morning. Toad had been in prison for fifteen hours, and the Wild Wooders had been drinking solidly for six of them.
Fractured (WitW)
In hindsight, the problem was that there were too many stairs in Toad Hall.
Courted (WitW)
It was a beautiful summer day along the Riverbank and Rat was not enjoying a moment of it.
Masquerade (TCR)
The Sanctuary tended to bring clients to the Bureau in a variety of creative ways.
Amateur Dramatics (WitW)
The Riverbank Ultimate Gilbert & Sullivan Society (known affectionately as RUGSS) was not what many would call a large society.
Dulce Domum (WitW)
Mole knows well the season of spring in his home.
Curiously Invited (WitW)
The invitations started off inconspicuously enough, or as inconspicuous as Toad was capable of.
The Disappearance of Haru Yoshioka (TCR)
Baron doesn't know exactly when she disappeared.
Spinning Straw (TCR)
Spinning straw into gold was impossible; everyone knew that.
I feel like most of these first lines focus on establishing either a setting or a mood, esp. in the shorter stories, and usually try to include the character whose POV the story is set from. Also at least three lines are shameless references to something else. (Kudos to anyone who gets all three XD) (Also apparently I don't like starting with dialogue, only description...)
As for tagging... my darling @tcrmommabear and the ever-wonderful @wolfiethewriter feel free to have at this, if you so wish :D
#ask meme#as my mother always says: the first character you see in a murder mystery is either the murderer or the murdered#between that and my english lit teacher talking about 'signposting' your points#I kinda have it ingrained that the first line of any story should convey either character or mood or setting#and I feel comfortable in saying I do it decently?
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Why I LOVE Legend of Fei
I’ve decided to actually post some things on here, and since I’ve picked a Legend of Fei theme, my first is just going to be me gushing about how much I love the drama Legend of Fei.
Gonna do an under the cut because I’ve never met a topic I couldn’t turn into an overly long word ramble.
This show is a historical wuxia c-drama that is a super fun adventure-romance story that isn’t that deep and can just be enjoyed for the straightforward action romp it is. It follows Zhou Fei in her rise as a hero in the martial arts world with help from her mysterious and flirty travel companion Xie Yun and a lot of her family, as well as allies found in old masters that help her level up her skills to defeat the mini-boss of the arc. The actions scenes are really engaging and well-choreographed, and there are a plethora of badass female characters in here. The characters are endearing and the villains are delightfully over-the-top. When a bunch of them have to interact and work together it gave me Kim Possible vibes of them barely maintaining their alliance with their disdain for each other (my fave was Hu Tian Ying, the most deadly woman alive. Girl could’ve won the game if she had just stayed retired!). Also if it interests anyone, this is based on a book written by the same author who wrote the book for Word of Honor. I haven’t read them, but I’ve seen both shows, and it can be really funny seeing all the plot elements that overlap in them.
This connection might also be why it is one of the most bi vibes shows I have ever seen. A’Fei spends a hot second admiring how gorgeous Madam Ni Chang is and gets adorably flustered around her, Xie Yun flirts with everybody, Chu Chu might as well be flipping coins trying to decide which pure of heart mountain hero to travel with, Li Yan has her triad going on, Madam Ni Chang has her all-women spy troupe, everybody was in love with A’Fei’s grandpa back in the day. Even Li Sheng leans a little with how pretty he thought Chu Chu was in men’s clothes (which is understandable Chu Chu looks pretty in everything). And don’t even get me started on Phoenix Master Mu Xiao Qiao, the coolest character in the whole show. Is anything explicit? No, I won’t lead you on like that. But are the vibes strong enough anyway? Hell yes.
My favorite aspect of this show is absolutely the family dynamic. A’Fei parents have such different personalities but their relationship is built with such love and respect (her father being known as the only one who can make her mother smile, Li Jin Rong picking vegetables for when Zhou Yin Tang is sick, her sewing clothes that she sends to him that he exclusively wears even though she is terrible at sewing (which is a act of love that A’Fei copies making a drawstring bag for Xie Yun)). And even if A’Fei’s relationship with her mom is rocky at the beginning, it is still obvious that Li Jin Rong cares for her and is so proud of her daughter (reflecting the pride her own father showed her when training her to take over as leader), and A’Fei obviously loves her parents and has a very family-centric way of thinking. Her relationship with her cousins is cute too, Li Sheng developing into a concerned and teasingly affectionate older brother type, and them both dealing with Li Yan as one deals with the youngest. It is also hilarious that after spending their entire lives exclusively interacting with family and clan members, they all manage to find life partners within like a month of leaving their mountain for the first time. Truly making their heartthrob grandpa proud. The in-laws add even more to this dynamic, and I lost track of how many times I said “I love this family” out loud while watching.
The romance in the show is wonderful on all counts for me. Our main leads Zhou Fei and Xie Yun work so well because their romance is built on them becoming best friends first. Xie Yun is definitely flirty from the start, but they genuinely become friends first before any romance starts happening, and it makes their bond both more believable and that much sweeter. Li Sheng and Chu Chu are adorable, and I mainly found delight in how relatable I found Li Sheng’s heart eyes because I was always like “Me too, buddy!!” The Poly Poison Pack of Li Yan, Yang Jin and Ying He Cong was as cute as it was hilarious from how stupid all 3 of them are.
A low point is definitely the whole Yin Pei situation, which is strange because all the stuff around it is really interesting and cool. Li Sheng coming into his own as a leader. Madam Ni Chang fight scene with her troupe. The parallel to Chu Chu and her steady training of martial arts that will never reach the heights of her friends after starting so late but still being indispensable in keeping the knowledge of several masters from being lost, compared to Yin Pei’s meteoric rise in skill from ill-gotten gains that will inevitably lead to his downfall. Everything with Yin Pei himself however was such a drag, couldn’t wait until he was gone.
Also we never got to see the flashback of Ninth Madam Duan storming the Disha Manor when every detail they gave about it was the coolest ever. It was as revenge for the death of Zhou Fei’s grandpa, she had the mini-boss of the arc’s head held under her foot at one point, it was a team-up between her and a young Li Jin Rong, Ninth Madam Duan did the whole thing on her wedding day while wearing her wedding dress?!? Absolutely criminal we never got to see it.
I love this show, if you want a fun time give it a shot. I’m planning a rewatch very soon :)
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Perhaps Toriel and Alphys interacting?
Gift of Truth
Rating: G Word Count: 1310 Prompt: #23 weight of the world (randomly generated) Read on AO3: here Notes: Pretty sure this was for an art request a long time ago but I never got around to it, so I hope you don't mind that I did a fic instead! (If you even remember sending this ask lol)
---
There was no right way to do this. Alphys had talked herself into and out of it endless times, ever since they reached the surface four months ago.
It was too soon. It was too late. It wouldn’t make a difference. It would make too much of a difference, crush the former queen’s newly healed soul into dust.
Alphys probably would’ve put off the decision forever, but Undyne had started to worry. And everyone knew what happened the last time Alphys had tried to keep a secret of this magnitude. Everyone would’ve been better off if she’d just told the truth about the amalgamates from the beginning, right? So if she told the truth now… even though it was late… it would have to be better than not telling it at all.
Gosh, she hoped it would be better.
Alphys didn’t have to open the lab doors for Toriel. She’d had automatic doors installed in her new lab, just like her old one. It saved her a lot of hassle when she brought armfuls of old parts up from the dump—or, in more recent times, when she hauled new equipment or DVDs in from the nearest electronics store. Just one more incredible thing about the surface.
“My apologies, Alphys. I had to stay late to talk to a parent,” Toriel said as she strolled elegantly to Alphys’s desk. Even in slacks rather than her royal robes, she cut an imposing figure.
“I-it’s fine!” She had just panicked for the past thirty minutes, slowly driving herself insane, but that was about what she deserved for keeping this secret for so long. “I, um, why don’t you sit down?”
Toriel raised an eyebrow.
...Right. There was only one chair. The one Alphys was sitting in.
Alphys hopped up, offering it to Toriel, who now looked more bemused (and maybe a little embarrassed) than anything.
“It is quite alright, Doctor Alphys. I am no longer your queen, nor have I ever been. I apologize if I gave you the impression of expecting such formalities.” She sighed, her gase sweeping across the ground. Her paws folded in front of her. “I should also apologize for how I treated you before. Even if you did terrible things under Asgore’s direction… you were able to heal families wounded beyond repair.”
One paw brushed something off of her pant leg. Alphys would’ve recognized that white-gray goop anywhere.
“You—you met with Snowdrake’s mother,” she realized. Crystal was the only amalgamate who had a school-aged child.
“Yes.” Toriel smiled fondly. “She is a wonderful, sweet woman. She cares for Snowdrake deeply, and has been willing to volunteer at the school any time we need help. Just today she was discussing plans to organize a talent show for the children. She believes it would help Snowdrake—oh, excuse me! I am rambling.”
She chuckled, and Alphys gave a nervous little laugh in response. This was… good? Toriel didn’t hate her? Well, Alphys knew she didn’t hate hate her, because Toriel let Frisk come over and watch anime sometimes, but—well, Toriel had never used her title before. Toriel was the one who revoked the title of “Doctor” in the first place, even if she’d technically lacked the authority to do so. It didn’t really matter, because humans didn’t acknowledge monster degrees anyway.
“What was it that you called me for?” Toriel returned to the point. Her expectant gaze weighed on Alphys like an anvil in one of those ancient human cartoons.
“I-I was just, you know…” Alphys tapped her claws together, but even the rhythmic clicks couldn’t soothe her. Sparks started to fly between her fingers unbidden.
Toriel’s brows lifted in sympathy, and suddenly the weight wasn’t so unbearable.
“Is something bothering you, my—” Toriel cut herself off, but Alphys could guess what she was about to say. My child. It was how she most often addressed Frisk.
“No! I mean, y-yeah, but it’s—it’s my own fault.” Alphys’s claws dug into the back of her hand. The magical sparks finally went out.
Toriel waited patiently. Alphys really did feel like a child, trying to squeeze the words past the tightness in her throat.
“I-it’s about Flowey. I… you should know, he’s…” Alphys swallowed. Best to just rip the bandaid off, metaphorically speaking.
“He’s your son. He’s Asriel.”
Alphys looked up with a wince. She wasn’t sure what expression she expected to find on Toriel’s face. Horror? Confusion? Disbelief?
At first Toriel just looked blank. Slowly, her mouth flattened to a thin line, her fangs jutting out from under her upper lip.
“That… does explain some things.”
“W-what?” Alphys gaped.
“He has always known things I couldn’t explain. My favorite snail recipes. How my oldest human child would fill their water to the brim of their cups. And he is rather averse to the idea of me dating anyone but Asgore, no matter how clear I have made it that we will never get back together.” She gave an affectionate snort.
Alphys forced a grin. Well, there went one folder full of fanfiction. But! Other than that, this was—this was good!
“W-well! Then! Glad you’re, um...”
“Not ‘freaking out’?” Toriel asked.
“Hehe…”
“I certainly am. Freaking out, I mean.” She chuckled. “For all of their similarities, Flowey is also far less… civil, than Asriel used to be. Unless he… well, I suppose I never did truly understand my children.”
Tears leaked from Toriel’s eyes. This time, when Alphys slid the desk chair behind her, she collapsed into it.
“I—I am sorry.” She sniffed. “I am not usually a crier. And truly, this is wonderful news. My child… reunited with me. However you accomplished Flowey’s creation, I must thank you for that.”
Though her eyes were still wet, her smile was sincere.
“I’m still sorry,” Alphys said quietly. “I didn’t know what the determination would do to him. I didn’t know it was a him at all. I was just—trying to break the barrier without hurting anyone. And I… I didn’t know Asriel’s dust was on the flower, on Flowey, and, I-I messed up so bad! Your son doesn’t have a soul, Toriel!”
It was the wrong thing to blurt out, but Toriel took it gracefully.
“I know. He truly has matured despite his condition, has he not?” Her lips curled wryly.
“But—!”
“Doctor Alphys.” Toriel placed a hand on her shoulder. “We all changed while trapped underground. We suffered pains that no one should have to bear. You felt tasked with the same responsibility that my children did—the responsibility of breaking the barrier on your own.”
Alphys’s eyes widened. Toriel knew? Had she seen the videos of Chara and Asriel that Alphys had found? Alphys hadn’t taken them to the surface with her; anything could’ve happened to them. It didn’t seem like Toriel to go through someone else’s things, though… even if they were technically her things.
“I cannot imagine the stress that Asgore placed on you, or that you placed on yourself. You hurt many monsters, truly. But you also healed many. Including my son.”
Tears pricked Toriel’s eyes again, but this time she smiled widely, a bleating laugh escaping her.
“My son is alive!” She exclaimed again, as if just realizing for the first time.
She scooped Alphys up in a hug that threatened to crush her.
“Uh—! T-toriel—!”
Another laugh, and then Toriel set her back down. Alphys’s face was still hot.
“S-so, you, um, forgive me…?” She asked quietly.
“Yes, Doctor. I forgive you, and I thank you.”
With those words, the weight of the world lifted from Alphys’s shoulders.
“Now if you will excuse me, I must be getting home to my children.” Toriel beamed again. “My children! Hee hee!”
Alphys watched the automatic doors slide shut behind Toriel, and she finally allowed a real smile of her own.
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