#shepherd nancy wheeler

[redflagsandbanners]

i talk with the untrodden mountains (and i talk to them about you)

-

“How huge are we talking?”

“Like unnaturally huge, Buckley. It broke the fence…”

“Sorry”.

“…found it in the middle of the sheep. What do you mean sorry?”

“’t was a sympathetic sorry. What do you mean in the middle of the sheep?”

“Exactly what I said. Came out and found it had crawled in the middle of the flock like some lost kitten. Jesus, you cannot understand how fucking big that animal was”.

Robin’s gaze catches her own.

The eyes are different. They are human for one, but the striking resemblance to the glimmering blue from last night, is enough to have Nancy missing the girl’s answer.

She pauses.

-

Additional Tags: Werewolf Robin Buckley, Shepherd Nancy Wheeler, Steve Harrington as a herding dog, Friends to Lovers, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Bonfires, Food as a Metaphor for Love, no beta we die like men

[jxncywarrior]

does anyone else notice how for queer headcanon ships, the vast majority of the fandoms hc one as gay and one as bi? i’m not sure i’ve ever seen a non-canon queer ship where both characters were bi4bi or gay4gay. here are just a few of the examples i could think of.

Byler (Stranger Things): Will (canonically gay) - Mike (bi)

Ronance (Stranger Things): Robin (canonically lesbian) - Nancy (bi)

Elmax (Stranger Things): Eleven (lesbian) - Max (bi)

Steddie (Stranger Things): Steve (bi) - Eddie (gay)

Buddie (9-1-1): Buck (canonically bi) - Eddie (gay)

Destiel (Supernatural): Dean (bi) - Castiel (canonically gay)

Amezona (Grey’s Anatomy): Amelia (canonically bi) - Arizona (canonically lesbian)

and these are just the ones of the top of my head, there’s probably a lot more out there. i know there are some exceptions but I just noticed a pattern. the vast majority of these fandoms never headcanon both characters in the ship the same sexuality.

i just thought it was funny.

[polls4you]

Found Family Battle (First Round)

[rosewaterandivy]

Summary: it’s always the best laid plans of mice and men, isn’t it?

Pairing: s.h. x f!oc

W.C.: 5.4K

Warnings: gilded age!au, miscommunication, a comedy of errors/manners, society snobs, a masquerade ball mishap, arranged marriage, steve ‘down bad’ harrington, and a reader/mc who doesn’t have time for this shit - she was educated abroad, she went to Vassar with Miss Nancy Wheeler, okay?!, back on my iliad bullshit (i know, i know)

playlist | m.list

I. Coup de foudre

It’s a dreary December evening in Manhattan. The streets are damp and slick accompanied by the cacophony of hooves, equipages and carriages trundling down the way. Somber topcoats and fur-trimmed capes hide the tailored waistcoats of the men and ornate skirts of the ladies, as is to be expected with the current onslaught of weather. 

Small white flurries of snow that are sure to bring a swift end to laborious dinners and engagements at the club. And the man in the sleek black equipage himself is all too relieved about it— at least he would be released from the obligation of hearing his father’s friends complain about these upstart robber barons descending like a horde of locusts on Fifth Avenue.

A quiet night in his study would be a welcome distraction.

That is, if they can ever get home in this weather.

He can hear the whinny of the horses from up front and the soothing tones of the driver. The streets are probably close to icing over at this hour, making it difficult to find traction. 

Suddenly, the equipage swings quickly to the side and careens into something with a loud thud, sending its sole occupant straight into the door with a smack. He hisses lowly at the twinge in his forehead as the driver descends with a flurry of apologies.

He opens the door himself and steps outside before the driver can assist him. The white puffs of his breath speak to how quickly the weather had turned. He draws his coat closer and approaches the two drivers as they attempt to settle the horses.

“Gentlemen,” He greets, “What seems to be the problem?”

“Noting to worry about Mr. Harrington,” His man, Andrew, assures him, “The ice just snuck up on us is all.”

He nods taking in the damage, dents and scuffs on both vehicles but the horses appear to be fine. Reaching into his coat pocket, he brings out a small notebook and a pencil to scribble his information down for the other driver. Is about to tell the man to bill him directly when someone steps out from the carriage opposite.

The footsteps themselves are delicate and tentative. He tears his gaze from the driver’s, glancing back only to find a young woman emerging from the carriage. She’s holding her skirts in one gloved hand, shivering in the cold. 

“Is everything all right Jesse?”

Her voice is like music to his ears, melodic almost. And she looks like something stolen from a painting— bright and alluring.

The winter light is quickly fading, and the lamplighters were sure taking their time this evening. Her cape is dark, like his coat, but the split at the front reveals a purple skirt trimmed in demure black lace, signifying an exit from her period of mourning. 

Her man, Jesse, shepherds her back toward the coach, “Let’s get you back inside Miss, don’t want you to catch a chill.”

“Of course,” She says with a shake of her head, “How silly of me.”

And before Steve can embarrass himself in an attempt to introduce himself, she’s safely ensconced back in the carriage. Her driver returns and takes the paper from Steve, tucking it into his coat.

“Apologies gentlemen, but I must be on my way.” He pulls himself back onto the driver’s box, “Have to get the young Miss home to her brother’s, you understand.”

He tips his hat, and with a tug of the reins he’s gone.

Steve finds himself standing right where she left him, feet riveted to the very spot where she once stood. He must have taken a step toward her at some point, like an utter madman, probably startled the poor girl half to death.

Despite their disastrous non-meeting, he can’t seem to shake her from his mind. As if everything had been in black and white until she stepped down from the carriage and breathed color into his world, spring bursting forth at the sound of her voice. It sounds positively insane, even to himself, but if Robin were here, she’d understand.

Hell, she’d probably have a word for it too. 

Something French, inevitably.

“Mr. Harrington,” Andrew says, a hand tentatively resting on his shoulder, “Is something wrong?”

Steve blinks; a feeble attempt to clear his mind from thoughts of the mystery woman.

Andrew refrains from rolling his eyes, “Right sir, let’s get you home then.”

The journey back to the Harrington family manse was uneventful. The familiar brownstone facade came into view as Andrew swung the equipage onto the street outside the house. Luckily, the home was large enough that his late arrival wouldn’t be noticed. 

He thanks Andrew and watches as he takes off with the horses for the carriage house a few blocks away. Stepping into the house, he makes quickly for his study slipping through the door just as one of the maids turns down the corridor.

Steve shucks his coat onto a nearby chair and tugs off his cravat with one hand, the other pouring a healthy portion of bourbon into a highball glass. He downs the amber liquid too quickly, the burn welcome against his throat. 

After pouring another glass to sip from, he settles into a heap on a club chair by the window. Resting his jaw on a hand, he faces the glass panes, eyes trailing the flurries of snow outside, unsettled by the quiet of the street. His mind won’t stop racing, vacillating between kicking himself for not getting her name and hoping he’d run into her again, albeit this time under better circumstances.

Little did he know, that several blocks away a man was questioning poor Jesse about his whereabouts when a slip of paper was placed into his hand. He scans it quickly, face paling at the name scrawled there: Steven Harrington.

“How could you let this happen Jesse, really? The accident, I understand, but allowing my sister out of the carriage unaccompanied?”

“Sir, I had no—”

“I’ll not hear your excuses.” Christopher Fairchild balls his hand into a fist, the paper crumpling in his grasp. “You said he saw her, Harrington, that is?”

“Unfortunately,” Jesse admits, “I intervened as best I could and got her back into the coach. He seemed rather transfixed by her.”

His employer grunts, “Yes well, that is unfortunate. What if someone had seen her with that man, no chaperone in sight?” He turns to the sideboard and pours himself a drink, says with a scoff, “Not even out to society and potentially scandal-ridden.”

At this point, his wife, Marian, chooses to enter, having seen the young lady to her rooms and getting her settled for the evening. She places a tentative hand on his shoulder while Jesse trains his gaze to the floor.

“Darling,” She soothes, “Your sister is asleep as is the baby, don’t get yourself into a fit at this hour.”

He sighs as her palm moves in slow circles against his back and takes deep breaths. “Of course dear,” He sips from his drink and turns to her. “I just worry about her. All the work you’ve put into her debut and planning the ball.” Christopher places a kiss on the back of her hand, causing her to blush. “I don’t want it to be all for naught.”

She sighs prettily. 

“It won’t be,” Marian advises, “You’ll write to the Harringtons tomorrow and we’ll get this matter settled. And there won’t be a speck on your dear sister’s reputation, I’ll see to that.”

But, oh dear reader, where would be the fun in that? 

As we all know, the New York winter season is winding down rapidly, and do we not deserve something to keep us warm over the holiday? I would say so! 

So, in honor of her long-awaited arrival, let us give a hearty New York welcome to Miss Eleanor Fairchild! Fresh from the society of Paris and a graduate of Vassar along with Miss Nancy Wheeler, her debut this week is the talk of the town. 

Despite her indecorous brush with Mr. Steven Harrington, I am sure she will not have a shortage of suitors after the ball this weekend. 

But the question remains, my loyal readers, of who will take a shine to Miss Fairchild and step out from the long shadow cast by the Harrington name? 

Only time, and this weekly missive, will tell.

Morning in New York was startling and nothing like waking in Paris.

House maids, lady’s maids, and valets moving up and down the stairs, knocking on doors to air out the linens and draw the curtains aside to let the murky winter sun stream through. There was, of course, the soft babbling from the nursery as Gus woke from his repose, the nursemaid and his mother close at hand.

A sharp knock sounded from the door just as you drew the bedclothes closer to you, content to roll over and sleep through the gray morning.

“Bonjour mademoiselle, vous permettez?”

“Oui!” You say, curious at the chipper voice now opening the door, “Sorry, yes, you may enter.”

“Merci, mademoiselle.”

The girl, your new lady’s maid, softly shuts the door and turns to regard the room.

It’s certainly larger than what you’d grown accustomed to in France. But then again, most everything was in New York, especially so since you hadn’t returned to the city in well nigh on a year or more.

The room itself is well-appointed and elegant, Marian saw to that; soft colors and fabrics, diaphanous and frothy, a subtle nod to Versailles no doubt. You hadn’t had much time or energy to give it a glance last night, more inclined to have a late dinner, divest yourself of traveling clothes, and pass out as soon as possible.

The lady’s maid continues her silent assessment as another knock sounds from the door. She steps to open it and let in the housemaid.

“Good morning Miss,” She greets with a smile, her voice rounded with a warm Irish lilt. “I ‘spect you’ll be needin’ a fire this morning.”

You nod just now noticing the chill in the air. She busies herself with the kindling and sweeping ashes from the fireplace. The maids exchange a few soft words before she steps out to get the firewood from the Useful Man down the hall.

“Apologies,” You say by way of greeting, “But I don’t believe I got your name?”

“Oh, pardonne-moi,” the lady’s maid curtsies briefly, “Je m’appelle Marie.”

“Marie,” You repeat, “Pleased to meet you.”

“Moi aussi, mademoiselle.”

And from there, the ritual of dressing began. The house maid, Louisa, lit the fire and spirited you out of bed to air out the linens. At Marie’s suggestion, she also tackled unpacking the various trunks placed near the dresser and closet.

“These are fine frills Miss,” She smiled, her fingers delicately folding chemises and hanging skirts or dresses. “The Missus said your debut gown came all the way from Mr. Worth’s shop in Paris, is that true?”

A soft sigh escaped you at the memory, ivory chiffon and silk revealing the décolleté and arms, gauze and tulle providing a tempting illusion of bared skin. A full skirt with bustle that would skim the floor accompanied by a small train. With gloves and a fan to match, of course.

“Indeed, it is,” You allowed with a cheeky wink, “But I think Marie would have my head if I touched it before Friday.”

Marie, for her part, merely smirked and continued her preparations for your bath.

Across a few city blocks, a footman knocks on the imposing doors of the Harrington manse. The family butler, Campbell, just happens to be descending the stairs and takes it upon himself to open the door.

“Good morning sir,” The footman says with a bow, “Mr. Fairchild bid me to deliver this.” He hands over an envelope addressed to Mr. Samuel Harrington.

“Yes, well,” Campbell sighs, opening the door to let the footman in. “I’ll get this to him. If you hurry, Cook can scrounge up some coffee and a pastry for you. Just take the servant’s hall to the right.”

“Much obliged,” The footman says with a bow as Campbell starts up the stairs.

The handwriting on the envelope is neat, if a bit cramped. Must be the young Mr. Fairchild then, rather than his wife sending the correspondence.

Mr. Harrington’s study door is cracked open, the sound of papers shuffling to and fro on his desk as the butler enters. He briefly glances up to find Campbell, “Happen to know where I put those contracts, Campbell?”

“Perhaps the drawer on the left, sir.”

Mr. Harrington pulls the drawer open, “Right you are, good man.” And thereby loses himself to perusing the documents and thus ignoring Campbell.

“A letter has arrived for you sir,” He says stepping closer to the desk, “From Mr. Fairchild, it seems rather urgent. I have his footman waiting for your reply.”

“Hmm, well let’s have it then.”

He takes the letter from the butler’s hand and slips the blade of the letter opener under the paper. Retrieving the missive, he scans through it quickly, lips pulling down in distaste.

“See to it that Mrs. Harrington gets this,” He instructs, pulling out a new sheaf of paper and beginning his correspondence. “If she wishes to see my reply, she best be quick about it.”

The letter itself detailed the unfortunate meeting between Mr. Fairchild’s sister and Mr. Harrington’s only son. The man was understandably concerned about how it would seem should someone have happened upon them sans chaperone, as the young lady had yet to make her debut into society.

Mr. Harrington’s reply was cordial in an attempt to smooth things over— the Fairchilds, like the Harrington’s were of good stock, two families of the New York Four Hundred deemed to be unblemished and acceptable company by none other than the Grande Dame herself, Mrs. Astor. It wouldn’t be fitting for reputations to be sullied as the result of a simple misunderstanding.

As expected, Samuel’s wife, Amelia, swanned into the study seemingly in the midst of her morning toilette. Her hair was up, but she still wore her housecoat as her day dress had yet to be put on by her lady’s maid. Mr. Fairchild’s letter waved about in one hand, while the other pressed upon her chest as if to stop her racing heart.

“That boy of yours is going to give me heart failure.”

Samuel signs the letter with a flourish and lays his pen to the side.

“Oh, so he’s only my boy when he acts indiscreetly with the fairer sex, but he’s your son when he’s winning accolades at Harvard and breaking hearts abroad, is that it?”

She tuts and sits demurely on the divan, “Well, yes. Precisely that Sam.” She fans herself with the letter as her husband leans against his desk. “The social set have already written him off as a lost cause and we can ill afford a whisper of a scandal, especially now.”

Sam passes the reply to his wife and pauses, as if to choose his words carefully.

“Still moving forward with your plans to find Steven a wife then?”

“Of course, dear,” She answers brusquely, “There are many suitable ladies this season of decent breeding and passable looks.” She glances up and passes the letter back to him. “Your response is sufficient, send it off with the footman.”

Amelia rises from the divan and turns to leave. “Wake Steven and have a talk with him will you? I’ll send Maude out to the florist, he should write a note of apology for her to send along.”

“As you wish, dear.”

Amelia leaves just as abruptly as she appeared. Samuel sighs and furrows his brow, the inklings of a headache coming on. He taps his fingers against the desk and checks the time.

“Campbell,” He calls into the hall, “Have Calvin wake Steven and tell him to see my in the study.”

“Of course, sir.”

He takes a seat and settles himself behind the desk once more.

“And have Cook send something up? Coffee and breakfast for two.”

Awaiting the arrival of his son, Samuel Harrington turns and faces the bay of windows that look out onto the street below. He watches as Fairchild’s footman hops on the back of the coach and slides from his view. He contemplates his son’s options, admittedly there are few.

Such are the advantages and disadvantages in marrying a woman who’s as sly as a fox. It’s just a matter of out-maneuvering her; an entertaining and seemingly endless chess match that’s lasted even longer than their marriage.

But the silver lining in all this, he supposes, is that Steven Harrington, their sole child and heir, just so happens to take after his father in this respect, in that he’s crazy like a fox.

Funny how things work out, isn’t it?

As for the young Mr. Harrington, well, suffice it to say he had quite the morning. The newly arrived Miss Fairchild, however, had a luxurious start to her day (that is, if one discounts the pulling and pinning of hair, the tugging on of stockings and tightening of corset laces).

You joined your brother and sister-in-law in the dining room while another maid fixed a plate of breakfast for you; Pierce, the butler, stepped in to pour the coffee. You thanked them both and broke your fast, listening as Christopher and Marian discussed the events of the day.

“I’ll need to see to the accounts today,” Your brother said, turning his newspaper with a shake. “Everything should be in order before the ball this weekend.”

Marian nodded and sipped from her coffee cup. “I have some calls to make today, and thought Nell could accompany me.”

Christopher slowly lowers his newspaper and glances your way— don't feel obligated to do this, you haven’t been properly introduced into society yet.

Buying time, you take a bite from the flaky croissant on your plate and ruminate. In a way, both Chris and Marian are correct; you aren’t obligated to escort Mrs. Fairchild, nor would it be wise to turn down an informal introduction to those in Marian’s circle. She would, after all, be serving as your chaperone, and, along with your brother, introducing you to Manhattan high society on Friday at the ball.

Your debutante ball, to be precise.

At the time, Vassar was a welcome distraction and reprieve for being paraded around like a prize calf at auction. But then came the unfortunate illness and demise of your parents, followed by a year of mourning.

It would seem that your time of delay had finally come to its end.

After all, no one wanted a spinster for a bride.

Dabbing at the corners of your mouth with a napkin, you clear your throat and brace yourself.

“That sounds lovely, Marian. I’d be happy to escort you today.”

She smiles and makes to reply, but before she can open her mouth to do so, a knock sounds from the front door. Puzzled, the three of you glance at one another, clearly not expecting a caller at such an early hour.

Pierce nods to someone by the door, bidding him to open it. He quickly returns with a beautiful arrangement of flowers, only to set them to your right and hand you a card. Baffled, you take in the spray of purple orchids, white tulips, lemon geraniums, the sprigs of rosemary, and tucked away behind the hearty green stalks, the shy blooms of forget-me-nots.

Respect, sincerity, an unexpected meeting, remembrance, and affection.

“Well,” Marian prompts from across the table, “Who are they from?”

It’s only then that you recall the card in your outstretched hand. Slipping from your reverie, you thumb open the small envelope.

Miss Fairchild—

Please accept my sincere apologies for our run-in yesterday evening. I hope it did not startle you. I’ve liaised with your brother about the repairs, and in the meantime will give you use of my equipage and pray it will suffice. I also hope that you’ll enjoy the flowers and please know that they relay my deepest and most sincere sentiments.

Cordially yours,

Steven Harrington

P.S. Je vous prie d’accepter mes sincères regrets et ma sympathie à l’occasion du décès de votre proches.

For the remainder of the week, Steve was a bundle of nerves. He’d written the note as his mother asked and even went so far as to accompany her to the florist, managing to slip in a few blooms that complemented the arrangement nicely. And if his mother didn’t happen to notice the errant sprigs of blue or the lingering scent of rosemary, then so much the better.

What he didn’t anticipate was the lack of a response.

“It isn’t done,” Miss Robin Buckley reminded him on their promenade in Central Park. “Until she is out to society, her brother is no doubt keeping her under lock and key.”

“You could provide the introduction,” He points out petulantly. “You’re choosing not to in order to entertain yourself with my suffering.”

“You cad,” She swats at him with her fan. “And no, I cannot. There’s a reason I fled to France after my disastrous debut, as you well know.”

And thus, Steve resigned himself to pining for a woman who barely knew of his existence, while the eligible bachelors of New York bided their time until her debut at the ball.

“For what it’s worth,” Robin says carefully as they round a bend, “There have been many deliveries to the Fairchild House, but yours was the first.”

He warms at the thought.

“That has to count for something, I suppose.”

She grins, “It will.”

They continue to walk, grateful for the brief break in the weather and discuss the evening’s festivities: who will wear what, how many dances until Robin steps on someone’s toes, how ostentatious the new money Vanderbilts will be.

They exit the park, parting ways as their carriages await. Robin catches a curious expression on her friend’s face, both dreamy and apprehensive. She lays a gloved hand on his arm.

“À cœur vaillant rien d'impossible.”

Steve glances down and says with a playful smirk, “Qui vivra verra.”

On Friday afternoon, Marian and Marie carefully assess your gown while Louisa dashes to and fro with the pearls, no the diamonds.

“Sapphires? No, that would ruin the effect.” Marian muses and Marie agrees.

You, by the by, are seated on the bed in a chemise and loosened corset, bored stiff, as the two hem and haw over how to best display you for the ball.

Because that’s all this is really, an overblown dog and pony show in which you’ll be paraded around and shown off to great effect all to attract suitors. It was enough to make one queasy. God forbid a woman do anything on her own or without the approval of a man.

As if men ever did anything worth doing that a woman didn’t have to make right.

Having quite enough of their chatter, you shrug into a robe and pull its sash tight, toe on some slippers and make your way down the hall. At the end of the corridor, you spy the cracked door to Christopher’s study. He’s shuffling papers and muttering to himself as you slip inside.

“I think the accounts can handle themselves for the evening,” you say with a smirk, settling yourself on a chair by the window.

He chuckles, “I suppose you’re right, clever girl.” Sorting the papers into a single file, he looks up at you with a quirked brow. “Had enough of Marian’s prodding, I take it?”

You sigh and dramatically cast your head back, “That’s the worst of it— they haven’t even begun!” Warming at his familiar laughter, you continue: “If I’d known that this is what I’d be subjected to, I would’ve stayed in France.”

Chris studies you at that; your weary sigh, crossed arms, and face a mask. Can’t make heads or tails of if you’re serious or not. Is it too soon? Did you still need time to mourn Maman and Papa? But then your debut had been delayed so much already…

“Is that what you want?”

It’s a question you hadn’t expected from him. But suddenly you’re reminded that he’s your brother, the only family you have left in the world. The man who dropped everything and took the first ship bound for France to be with you at your parents’ deathbed. He had insisted you stay at the house in Paris until you’d recovered your own strength and sent Marian and Gus to keep you company while he saw to business at home.

And knowing him as well as you do, Chris wouldn’t ask something idly.

So you choose your next words carefully.

“I no longer trouble myself with wants.”

The lightest dusting of snow begins to gather on the windowpane. Soon enough, all of the city would look like a snow globe. A perfect winter wonderland for the evening’s festivities, and your favorite kind of weather— snow makes everything look softer somehow, muffles the sound, and blankets the world in swaths of pure white. Your mother adored snow, had somehow convinced you and Chris that she could smell when it was about to begin. And maybe that’s why you’ve taken a shine to it now.

Turning from the window with a small smile, you rise to exit the study and get ready for the night. Leaving your elder brother puzzling over your parting phrase.

Steve could hardly forget your first meeting, but seeing you that evening nearly eclipsed the recollection. Without a cape and no longer in the purples and grays of half-mourning, you were quite a sight to behold.

And he wasn’t the only one who thought so.

Several men from the club, Hargrove, Hagan, and Byers, were scattered around the room sizing up the competition just as he was. Somehow, Edward Munson had been granted an invitation— with his railroad money and lack of pedigree. Regardless of social standing, each eligible bachelor in the room was jockeying for position; who would be the first introduction, the first dance, did her eyes fall on him or the man to his left?

Steve was well-versed in this routine, he’d been to enough debutante balls to last a veritable lifetime. Usually, he’d enter and make the necessary greetings before grabbing a refreshment and picking a wall to lean on because god help him if he was going to actually dance more than the bare minimum required.

But in this instance, things were different.

Namely, that he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about you since that fateful night. Despite the lack of interest from you (which was to be expected, really), he couldn’t help but think of you fondly. Descending from your coach to check on your driver and the horses, shivering in the evening chill, voice soft and sleep-worn.

There was also the fact that his mother was hovering somewhere behind him. She’d oh so fortunately seen Mrs. Fairchild as she was making her social calls earlier in the week and had received an informal introduction to you. She’d said as much at dinner that day and ever since then, she’d been subtly laying the groundwork for a possible courtship.

And as much as Steve did not want to bow to his mother’s machinations, he also desperately wanted an introduction with you. So he sips his drink and observes the goings on around him his attention turning to the grand staircase as someone announces:

“Presenting Miss Eleanor Joséphine Fairchild, escorted by her brother Mr. Christopher Fairchild.”

The symphony starts up as you descend the stairs to polite applause on the arm of your brother, eyes demure and downcast, your subtly rouged lips pulling into a soft smile. And Steve can hardly breathe— it’s as if the world slowed and went fuzzy at the edges, everything and everyone falling by the wayside save for you.

Because you are positively incandescent; beautifully angelic in your finery and reminiscent of Venus emerging from her shell. He feels as if he’s been struck, a warmth radiating in his chest, and wouldn’t be surprised to find one of Cupid’s golden arrows lodged there. And Steve knows a little of desire, of wanton lust; he is, after all, a man of privilege in a world that caters to his whims. But while this feels reminiscent of that— the heat, the wanting— there is also, oddly, restraint.

All eyes are on you as your brother leads you across the floor, smiling politely at those assembled, eyes never staying on one person for too long. You’re playing nice, presenting an unimpeachable image of the demure lady, it wouldn’t be done to favor one gentleman this evening. In fact, it would send the wrong message entirely.

Everyone present knows this; it is a game often played in polite society, even if its ramifications are— how shall we say it?— best left behind closed doors.

“A lamb and her shepherd,” His mother says, voice pitched low for only him to hear. “Bo-Peep will soon abandon his charge, and that, Steven, is when you will make your introduction.”

It’s all he can do to school his features and recede into himself; eyes glassy and blank, face a mask. Polite and charming, affable even. And while his mother thinks she is being helpful, it’s hard not to believe she isn’t pouring poison in his ear. Half expects her to say something akin to, “Look like the innocent flower, but be the serpent under't.”

She doesn’t, and for that he is grateful. Instead, she melts away into the background and loops her arm through his father’s. And, sure enough, your brother does eventually leave your side only to be replaced by Mrs. Fairchild, who slips your wrist through a dainty loop of cream ribbon with a dance card and a small pencil attached.

The room stills, a pack of wolves lying in wait. Drinks are set aside, conversations cease; Amelia gives her son an unceremonious push forward, her gloved hand on his shoulder tipping him toward the inevitable. Steve nearly stumbles from the shock of it all.

Because in one moment he’s just another man in the crowd, an eligible bachelor at yet another ball prepared to drink the night away. And in the next, his eyes lock with yours, and he feels himself falling. It’s hopeless to fight it, this gravitational pull you seem to have over him; haven’t exchanged even two words, and he’s already in your thrall.

He can see your chest rise with your sharp intake of breath, eyes widening at his approach. Steve’s trying not to spook you, really he is. He thinks back to his favored horse, Balius, the clomping hooves and fierce breaths, tries to calm you in the same manner— a slow approach, a small smile, and soft words.

And while he would never bow to the stubborn dappled stallion, Steve does bow to you and says, “Steven Harrington, a pleasure to meet you officially Miss Fairchild.”

Your eyes light in recognition, of his name or him he cannot tell. But you curtsy all the same and offer him your hand, as etiquette dictates. He takes it gladly, marvelling at the fine fabric of gloves adorning it. His finger finds the racing pulse on the underside of your wrist, running along it slowly.

Another sharp intake of breath at the sensation, a heat skittering underneath your skin as his fingers loop around your wrist, your pulse thudding in their wake.

He opens the booklet and takes his time writing his name, well aware at the gathering of eligible suitors at his back. He’s loathe to release your hand and leave you to all of this, the wolves at the gate, but as much as he wants to whisk you away from what is sure to be an uncomfortable and tiring evening, Steve is required, as is everyone else, to play the game.

And Steven Harrington is playing to win.

Mr. Harrington—

It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance this past Friday, and thank you for your presence. I do hope the evening passed pleasantly for you and my apologies for not seeing to you more frequently, but other obligations, as you well know, prohibited me from seeking your company. Furthermore, I must apologize for being remiss in not offering my sincerest gratitude for the lovely flowers and the gracious use of your equipage. You are truly a generous man, and I am grateful for your friendship.

Cordially yours,

Miss Fairchild

P.S. Merci pour le sauvetage de Monsieur C—. Je n'avais aucune idée sur sa relation avec Mademoiselle C—. J’espère que vote intercession ne reflétera pas mal sur vous. Je vous suis redevable.

_

Steve’s postscript: Please accept my sincerest and deepest condolences on the passing of your parents.

Nell’s postscript: Thank you for the rescue from Mr. C—. I had no idea about his relationship with Miss C—. I hope your intercession will not reflect poorly on you. I am in your debt.

[prentisslvr]

MASTERLIST

CRIMINAL MINDS

emily prentiss

jennifer jareau

derek morgan

spencer reid

aaron hotchner

STRANGER THINGS

robin buckley

nancy wheeler

steve harrington

eddie munson

MARVEL

wanda maximoff

bucky barnes

steve rogers

loki laufeyson

matthew murdock

tony stark

9-1-1

eddie diaz

evan buckley

bobby nash (parent figure only!)

athena grant (parent figure only!)

howie ‘chimney’ han

maddie buckley

GREYS ANATOMY

meredith grey

april kepner

lexie grey

amelia shepherd

arizona robbins

jo wilson

callie torres

cristina yang

izzie stevens

addison montgomery

teddy altman

alex karev

jackson avery

lucas adams

[loveinhawkins]

Most vague prompt ever: very near death experience HURT/comfort with anger (at the perpetrator or the victim/circumstance)?

Eddie’s POV of some moments in this fic prompt guidelines

When Robin had yelled at the doctors in desperation, said that she shared the same blood type as Steve—babbling something about tests they’d had to go through last year—she had been very quickly shepherded away. Even then, she moved almost one step ahead of the nurse guiding her onwards, looking like she was seconds away from grabbing the equipment and doing the whole damn thing herself.

By silent agreement, Nancy had followed, and Eddie stayed in Steve’s room—Steve stable enough, for now, to be left unobserved by the limited staff who actually knew what in God’s name was in the bat venom.

But now… it’s all just a waiting game. Eddie fucking hates those.

Then Nancy comes in.

And Eddie’s gotten used to seeing the typical blaze in her eyes, like she’ll never run out of determination. But now he looks at her, and there’s something different in her eyes—a dullness. Something so… profoundly sad.

It terrifies him.

“Eddie,” is all she says.

“What? Is Buckley okay? Wheeler.”

“Yeah, she’s—she’s fine. It’s—they said—”

But Eddie’s mind he already leapt ahead to what will surely come next, and he shudders out an, “Oh God.”

“—it might not work.”

He feels some kind of strangled cry tear out of him, unbidden; he storms outside because before Dustin’s fever had broken, before he’d been discharged, he kept rambling to Eddie, “Steve, he can hear you, I know he can—Eddie, don’t you dare give up on him, please, please.”

And he doesn’t want Steve to hear this.

“This is bullshit,” he breathes, pressing his forehead against the corridor wall. He wants to rage, to find something to destroy, but there’s nothing. “This is so fucking—what did they. What. What did they actually say?”

“There might be too much venom from the bats inside him,” Nancy says, somewhere close—in his peripheral vision, Eddie can see her standing against the wall, too, leaning towards him. Her voice is steady, numb. Like she’s reciting from a textbook. “And that—when Robin’s blood is—his body might. Reject it. And he’ll—he’ll go into… like a kind of shock. And then he…” She inhales, short and shallow. “He’ll die.”

“God,” Eddie repeats, and his hand is drawing back without a conscious thought, before Nancy’s hand is closing around his wrist.

“Eddie, don’t,” she says. “It won’t help.”

He turns to look at her, and that’s when he sees that her knuckles are already bloody; and he’s suddenly sure he’ll find an impression somewhere along the wall, from where she first struck.

“We’ve not lost him yet,” she whispers, and she sways, getting closer still. Drops Eddie’s wrist to move underneath his arm, like she’s trying to hide in between him and the wall. “We’ve not—we’re going to keep fighting. Eddie, I can’t—can’t to do it alone.”

It’s only then that he realises she’s crying.

The anger cools instantly.

Eddie hugs her, makes his body a shield from passers-by. Whispers into her hair, “I’m sorry. Christ, Wheeler, I’m sorry.”

-

Nancy’s gone to get Robin some food when Eddie hears a gut-wrenching scream echo down the corridor.

He runs.

Doctors swarming around Steve’s bed. His heart leaping for just a moment, thinking that what he’s seeing is Steve sitting up, Steve awake—

But then Steve screams again, and his eyes are shut, his body drenched in sweat.

One doctor turns, jerks his head at Eddie. “Get him out.”

Eddie almost laughs, because no. Fuck no.

They’d been assured that they’d be told when Steve’s transfusion was going ahead. That’s why Nancy had even felt comfortable leaving the room in the first place.

Another doctor is shaking her head, beckoning Eddie forwards. “No, you can—you can help us, we don’t want to restrain him, so—”

“Stop,” Steve groans. The muscles in his neck are taut with stress.

Eddie goes to him, places a hand on his forehead—nearly hisses at the heat radiating off him.

“Steve, Steve, just try and—hey, it’s just me, you’re okay, you’ve just gotta—” Steve writhes against Eddie’s touch, makes an awful, plaintive sound. “Oh Christ, please, Steve, just lie back. I know it’s hard, I know, I know.”

“Don’t,” Steve keeps repeating. “Don’t. Please.”

A nurse slips a needle into the crook of his arm.

It’s wrong, Eddie thinks, to label the noise that Steve makes then as just a scream. It’s more than that, somehow. It sounds like he’s being tortured.

“Stop, stop!” Eddie pleads, but the staff pay him little notice. “You’re hurting him, don’t you get it, you’re—”

“Mr Munson, listen to me,” a doctor says. “We’ve done all we can. The rest is up to him.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Eddie seethes.

-

It’s unbearable.

Eddie is left alone with him—as Steve’s fever began to climb even more, he was told again with clinical succinctness that having someone watching over him would make no difference, that it was now just a question of which would win: Robin’s blood or The Upside Down.

Steve is restless, but weak. Sometimes his eyes open, but they’re glazed and unfocused, and Eddie knows that whatever he’s seeing, it’s not this hospital room.

“Dustin, Dustin—”

“He’s all right,” Eddie keeps saying. “Please, Steve, just lie down.”

“Wanna go home,” Steve mumbles at some point, which is the most sense he’s made so far.

“Okay,” Eddie says, voice breaking. “Yeah, you can—tell me about home, Steve, come on.”

But then Steve lapses back into half-nonsensical muttering. After a while, Eddie realises that some of what Steve’s saying refers to past events all out of order, him hearing Dustin’s voice in The Upside Down.

And suddenly Steve shoots up, breathing so fast that Eddie worries he’ll hyperventilate.

“Don’ g’in th’Lake,” he slurs, eyes wide. “Not safe. I c’n… swim. Has t’be me.”

“Steve,” Eddie whispers.

“Don’t drown,” Steve gets out quite clearly, and Eddie notices tears mixing with the sweat running down his face. “Don’t drown, Eddie.”

“I’m not drowning,” Eddie promises, fighting to keep his composure.

You are.

-

Eventually, Steve quiets. Settles.

Eddie pushes back hair that’s left damp from his forehead, and then…

He hardly dares to believe it, when it feels like the fever’s broken. When Steve’s fingers twitch in his hand.

“Oh, holy shit,” he whispers, his laughter breathless. Reverent. “That’s it, Steve, that’s it. Break my fucking fingers, dude, I dare you.”

-

‘Nothing to be done,’ be damned, Eddie still yells for someone when Steve starts to shiver.

One of the nurses looks him over. Watches him breathe for a few minutes. Catches Eddie’s eye and gives a firm nod.

When she leaves, Eddie kisses Steve on the temple, then gently dries his face.

“You did it. You fucking did it, Steve, you’re amazing, you’re—”

Steve takes a deep breath. His lips part.

He’s so quiet that Eddie has to lean in to hear him.

“I… I swam.”

Eddie laughs through a sob. “That’s right, you—yeah. That’s it, sweetheart, just breathe. Rest now. I’ve got you. Shh, I’ve got you.”

-

The nurse returns to give Steve more meds. Insists that he won’t wake up for hours yet.

Eddie leaves in a daze. He doesn’t know how he finds them, feels like he’s blinked from one room into the next.

“Eddie?”

Nancy and Robin are sat together, a table strewn with packets of cookies between them.

For a moment, Eddie can’t speak, but Nancy must be able to read him, because she exhales shakily, and it sounds like she says, “Oh, thank God.”

Robin stands without saying anything. Her eyes flicker across Eddie’s face, searching for something, like she’s so scared to believe it. There’s a thick band aid on the crook of her elbow. Eddie runs to her, sweeps her up. Says, voice thick with tears, “You’re a fucking angel, Buckley.”

[strangerthingsreversebigbang]

In case you missed them, here are the next ten works posted from the Stranger Things Reverse Big Bang!

---

Under the Myrtle by @lorifragolina | Art by @raven-cl

Rating: Explicit

Warning(s): No Archive Warnings Apply

Character(s): Steve Harrington, Billy Hargrove, Steve Harrington's parents

Relationship(s): Steve Harrington/Billy Hargrove

Summary: A shepherd and a stranger, in the woods by the lake, under the myrtle, in a sweet, warm spring. There is love, there are secrets, there are broken promises and faith in the gods. --- He was wearing the white tunic, almost completely opened on his chest, and a golden chain was sparkling around his neck. He was barefoot and the pebbles and twigs seemed to not bother him. The man stood near him, looking at him with a smile. He was more or less as tall as him, but for some reason Steve felt uneasy in front of him. He sat up and looked at the man in return, speechless and bewitched. “You…” he heard himself whispering to the stranger. The air seemed still and he feared breathing. The man giggled, and this little laugh seemed like the song of a fresh and cheerful waterfall. “It’s you who spies on people when they are taking their baths?” The man asked, still smiling under his tiny mustaches, tilting his head to him. Steve nodded. He couldn't trust his own voice. “You scared me,” continued the other sweetly. Steve blinked, and the man got nearer and sat at his side.

Rooftop Blues and Midnight Reds by @flowercrowngods | Art by @maikaartwork

Rating: Teens and Up

Warning(s): No Archive Warnings Apply

Character(s): max mayfield, steve harrington, eddie munson, wayne munson

Relationship(s): max mayfield & steve harrington, max mayfield & eddie munson, max mayfield & wayne munson, steve harrington/eddie munson

Summary: The world ended, and then it didn't. In the aftermath, Max is left with the need to re-learn what it means to be a person, and learn what it means to have a family. One September night, on the rooftop of her new home, she comes one step closer to both of those, and learns what it means to have hope.

Sol Invictus by @just-my-latest-hyperfixation | Art by @waldos-art

Rating: Explicit

Warning(s): Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings

Character(s): Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson

Relationship(s): Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson; Tommy Hagan/Steve Harrington (Unrequited)

Summary:

The prince smiles and plucks the lute from his limp fingers, carefully setting it down next to the bed. Eddie can’t recall when he stopped playing. “Look at you. Not just easy on the eyes, but smart to boot. Knew I made a good choice with you.”

Those graceful fingers are on his face now, caressing his cheekbones on either side, slipping into his curls, and Eddie’s insides are warm and light.

“My prince—” he starts to say, but that pretty face twists into a scowl and a soft finger pushes against his lips.

“Let’s try something new, Just Eddie.” Those beautiful eyes are alight with mischief, a temptation dangling just barely within reach. “When we're like this … Can I be Just Steve? Do you think you can do that?”

Something inside Eddie coils.

“Steve,” he whispers against pink lips. The name is sweet nectar, the juice of forbidden fruit on a hot summer day, a sin and a secret and an oath.

Steve smiles and the sun rises in the moonlit room.

Eddie says his name a thousand times more on that night and the nights that follow. 

---

In a world where the king is worshipped as the living embodiment of the sun itself, two boys learn to navigate life in their golden cage.

Spark Notes by @nomadicwolf | Art by @freedom-in-darkness

Rating: Teens and Up

Warning(s): No Archive Warnings Apply

Character(s): Jonathan Byers, Steve Harrington, Nancy Wheeler, Carol Perkins, Tommy Hagan, Barbara "Barb" Holland, Fred Benson

Relationship(s): Jonathan Byers/Steve Harrington/Nancy Wheeler

Summary: It was love at first sight. One look at Nancy Wheeler was enough for Steve Harrington to fall head over heels. While Steve is no stranger to the art of seduction, he soon realizes that Nancy is going to require a different level of courting than he's accustomed to. He enlists the help of Jonathan Byers to help send love letters to her. Over time they develop a friendship and while Steve's affections for Nancy never falter, he begins to think he might be able to feel this way for two people at once.

Nothin' to Show by @bifuriouswaterbender | Art by @madaboutmunson

Rating: Teens and Up

Warning(s): No Archive Warnings Apply

Character(s): Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley, Nancy Wheeler, Steve Harrington, Dustin Henderson, Lucas Sinclair, Eleven | Jane Hopper, Billy Hargrove, Henry Creel | One | Vecna, Jim "Chief" Hopper

Relationship(s): Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington & Eddie Munson & Nancy Wheeler, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson & Nancy Wheeler, Steve Harrington & Nancy Wheeler, Robin Buckley & Nancy Wheeler, Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Summary: Vecna Industries couldn't keep getting away with their criminal enterprises. Luckily Dustin knew a few people with just the skills to take them down. He just hoped they could learn to play nice with each other. AKA, The Fruity Four as a Leverage AU.

Playing with Fire by @betty-boom | Art by @waldos-art

Rating: Explicit

Warning(s): No Archive Warnings Apply

Character(s): Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson

Relationship(s): Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Summary:

Steve's bounty hunts and contracts never usually lasted a full year, until now, and he's unsure how to cope. Until Eddie shows up to speed things up.

5 times Eddie tempts Steve + 1 time Steve finally gives in

Feel the Tide Shifting (and wait for the spark) by @maxinemaxmayfield | Art by @hereforanepilogue

Rating: Teens and Up

Warning(s): No Archive Warnings Appy

Character(s): Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Chrissy Cunningham, Robin Buckley, Original Characters

Relationship(s): Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Minor Robin Buckley/Chrissy Cunningham, Steve Harrington & Chrissy Cunningham

Summary: Steve's daughter is his entire world. He doesn't really have time for anything - or anyone - else. But when they take a trip to see the dolphins at the Indianapolis Zoo for her ninth birthday, Steve gets a blast from the past that could change his whole future.

Butter, Sugar, and Northern Mockingbirds by @thefreakandthehair | Art by @janie-bean

Rating: Explicit

Warning(s): No Archive Warnings Apply

Character(s): Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley, Stranger Things Ensemble

Relationship(s): Steve Harrington / Eddie Munson

Summary:

“Holy shit, Steve, this cookie has no right to be this good,” Eddie praises, cookie crumbs stuck to the corner of his lips. “What did you put in this? Drugs? Is it drugs? I feel like it could be drugs, they’re that good.”

It’s not the first time he’s felt these proverbial butterfly wings flapping against the inside of his ribs. Every time they’re alone together, every time their shoulders graze or eyes meet, every time Steve sees Eddie smile with that stupid dimple that not even the slashing scar across his cheek can hide, the little thing with wings that’s taken up residence close enough to his heart to set it alight goes insane.

He should know how to handle the feeling by now, but he doesn’t.

You're Under My Skin (burning in my bloodstream) by @lihhelsing | Art by @lady-lostmind

Rating: Explicit

Warning(s): No Archive Warnings Apply

Character(s): Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Chrissy Cunningham, Robin Buckley, Gareth

Relationship(s): Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Summary:

Steve's not sure why he keeps betting on things with Robin when he knows he's going to lose. Except this time the bet ends up with him getting his nipple pierced and it seems like the guy who's about to run a needle through his skin is hotter than Steve expected and he's having trouble keeping it together.

But after a charged first encounter, Steve has no way to get in touch with Eddie and thinks he lost his chance until he runs into him in the most unexpected of places and finds out Eddie is a lot more than Steve initially thought.

OR; Eddie gives Steve a piercing and Steve is clueless about his true identity.

Rebel Girl by @annanevermore | Art by @artbean

Rating: Teens and Up

Warning(s): No Archive Warnings Apply

Character(s): Eddie, Chrissy, Robin, Steve

Relationship(s): Eddie & Chrissy, Eddie/Steve, Chrissy/Robin

Summary: Chrissy Cunningham has been dealing with a lot lately, between her mom and her new relationship with Robin and deciding what to do with herself after high school. Eddie has been dealing with quite a lot himself too. When things come to a head for Chrissy and she gives herself a rather disastrous haircut, she naturally goes to Eddie to help her fix it. What else are best friends for?

---

Stay tuned for more incredible works from the Stranger Things Reverse Big Bang!

Schedule | Sign Up | Info | FAQ | Rules | Ask the Mods

[brionysea]

In the biblical Book of Genesis, Cain and Abel are the first two sons of Adam and Eve. Cain, the firstborn, was a farmer, and his brother Abel was a shepherd. According to Genesis, Abel offered the Lord the firstborn of his flock. The Lord respected Abel's sacrifice but did not respect that offered by Cain. In a jealous rage, Cain murdered Abel.

"Yeah, but it's different for you. Will came home." — Nancy Wheeler, Season 2 Episode 3

[river13245]

Info - Character List

Navigation

requests open

Character List

------

Criminal Minds:

Penelope Garcia | Aaron Hotchner | Spencer Reid | Derek Morgan | Emily Prentiss | David Rossi | Will LaMontagne JR |

Golden trio:

Harry Potter | Ron Weasley | Hermione Granger | Fred Weasley | George Weasley | Luna Lovegood | Neville Longbottom | Draco Malfoy |

Marvel:

Bruce Banner | Peter Parker | Wanda Maximoff | Stephen Strange | Tony Stark | Captain America | Thor | Black Panther | Carol Danvers| Bucky Barnes | Wade Wilson | Loki | Mobius | Natasha Romanoff | Yelena Belova (Platonic only, she's aromantic in comics)

Marauders era:

Remus Lupin | Sirius Black | Peter Pettigrew (platonic only) | James Potter | Lily Evans | Marlene Mckinnon | Mary Macdonald | Lucius Malfoy | Severus Snape | Narcissa Black |

NCIS:

Timothy McGee | Jimmy Palmer | Kasie Hines (platonic only) | Anthony Dinozzo | Abby Sciuto | Ducky Mallard (Platonic only) | Leroy Jethro Gibbs | Ziva |

Supernatural:

Dean Winchester | Castiel | Sam Winchester | Crowley | Lucifer | Bobby Singer (platonic only) | Gabriel | John Winchester | Rowena Macleod | Charlie Bradbury (platonic only) | Clair Novak |

Sherlock:

John Watson | Sherlock Holmes | Jim Moriarty | Mrs Hudson (platonic only)

Star Trek:

Spock | James Kirk | Christopher Pike | Nyota Uhura | La'an Singh | Number 1 | Hemmer | Erica Ortega's | Dr M'Benga |

Stranger Things:

Eleven | Max Mayfield | Will Byers | Dustin Henderson | Steve Harrington | Eddie Munson | Mike Wheeler | Nancy Wheeler | Jim Hopper | Robin Buckley (platonic Only) | Jonathan Byers | Lucas Sinclair | Joyce Byers | Argyle | Murray Bauman (platonic Only) |

The Last Of Us:

Ellie | Joel | Dina | Jesse | Tommy

The Vampire Diaries:

Stegan Salvatore | Damon Salvatore | Elena Gilbert | Kathrine Pierce | Kai Parker | Klaus Michaelson | Elijah Michaelson | Kol Michaelson | Caroline Forbes |

Greys Anatomy:

Meredith Grey | Derek Shephard | Mark Sloan | Alex Karev | George O'Malley | Jackson Avery | Christina Yang | Lexie Grey | Jo wilson | Amelia Shepherd | Addison Montgomery | Levi Schmidt | Atticus Lincoln |

Doctor Who:

Rose Tyler | Donna Noble | 9th Doctor | 10th Doctor | 11th Doctor | 12th Doctor | Captain Jack Harkness | Rory |

Friends:

Chandler | Joey | Ross | Phoebe | Monica | Rachael |

Scooby Doo:

Shaggy | Velma | Daphne | Fred |

Twilight:

Jacob Black | Edward Cullen | Bella Swan | Alice Cullen | Jasper Hale | Carlisle Cullen | Charlie Swan |

Scream 1996:

Ghost Face | Billy Loomis | Sidney Prescott | Stu Macher | Casey Becker | Dewey Riley |

The Hobbit/TLOTR:

Bilbo Baggins | Thorin Oakenshield | Kili | Fili (platonic) | Frodo Baggins | Samwise Gamgee | Gandalf (platonic) |

The hunger Games:

Coriolanus Snow | Haymitch | Katniss Everdeen | Peeta Mallark | Cinna | Effie Trinket | Finnick Odair | Lucy Gray | Sejanus Plinth |

The Walking Dead

Rick Grimes | Carl Grimes | Negan | Daryl Dixon | Michonne | Maggie | Carol | Eugene | Abraham |

[emmie-tt]

REQUEST LIST

Feel free to send requests love!!

HARRY POTTER

Harry potter

Draco Malfoy

Blaise Zabini

Ronald Weasley

Fred Weasley

George Weasley

Ginny Weasley

Hermione Granger

Luna Lovegood

Neville Longbottom

Mattheo Riddle

Theodore Nott

Tom Riddle

Severus Snape (PLATONIC ONLY)

Lucius Malfoy (PLATONIC ONLY)

Narcissa Malfoy (PLATONIC ONLY)

Bellatrix Lestrange (PLATONIC ONLY)

Remus Lupin (PLATONIC ONLY)

Sirius Black (PLATONIC ONLY)

Regulus Black (PLATONIC ONLY)

Molly Weasley (PLATONIC ONLY)

Arthur Weasley (PLATONIC ONLY)

STRANGER THINGS

Steve Harrington

Eddie Munson

Billy Hargrove

Eleven (PLATONIC ONLY)

Max Mayfeild (PLATONIC ONLY)

Will Byers (PLATONIC ONLY)

Mike Wheeler (PLATONIC ONLY)

Dustin Henderson (PLATONIC ONLY)

Nancy Wheeler

Jim Hopper (PLATONIC ONLY)

Robin Buckley

Chrissy Cuningham

Lucas Sinclair (PLATONIC ONLY)

Johnathan Byers

Erica Sinclair (PLATONIC ONLY)

Joyce Byers (PLATONIC ONLY)

Karen Wheeler (PLATONIC ONLY)

TWILIGHT

Edward Cullen

Jasper Hale

Alice Cullen

Carlisle Cullen (PLATONIC ONLY)

Bella Swan

Emmet Cullen

Jacob Black

Rosalie Hale

Esme Cullen (PLATONIC ONLY)

Charlie Swan (PLATONIC ONLY)

Renesmee Cullen (PLATONIC ONLY)

Leah Clearwater

Sam Uley

Seth Clearwater

AVENGERS

Tony Stark / Iron Man

Steve Rogers / Captain America 

Bucky Barnes / Winter Soldier

Sam Wilson / Falcon

Natasha Romanoff / Black Widow 

Wanda Maximoff 

Clint Barton 

OUTER BANKS

JJ Maybank

John B. Routledge 

Rafe Cameron 

Sarah Cameron 

Kiara Carrera

Ward Cameron

GREYS ANATOMY

Merideth Grey

Lexi Grey

Derek Shepherd 

Amelia Shepherd 

Mark Sloan

Addison Montgomery 

Callie Torrez

Arizona Robbins 

Alex Karev 

George O'malley

Isabella Stevans 

Jackson Avery

April Kepner

Owen Hunt 

Christina Yang  

SHAMELESS

Fiona Gallagher

Veronica Fisher

Kevin Ball

Carl Gallagher

Lip Gallagher

Ian Gallagher (PLATONIC ONLY)

Debbie Gallagher

Jimmy Lishman

Mickey Milkovich (PLATONIC ONLY)

Svetlana Yevgenivna

Mandy Milkovich

Karen Jackson

MISC. CHARACTERS

Austin!Elvis Presley (Elvis - the movie) 

Thomas Shelby (Peaky Blinders)

Anthony Bridgerton (Bridgerton)

Olivia Pope (Scandal)

Fitzgerald Grant (Scandal) 

 MISC. CELEBS/PEOPLE

Elvis Presley 

Kylie Jenner

Kim Kardashian

Khloe Kardashian

Kourtney Kardashian

Kendall Jenner

Megan Fox

Chris Evans 

Sebastian Stan 

Sam Worthington 

RULES

No Smut, this may change but for the moment/until i get comfortable i'm only writing fluffy, angsty and platonic relationships

I wont write about R@pe, Abu$e or ince$st

All my writing will be fem/GN!reader, I wont go into detail about skin color, body type or really any personal details unless asked to

I want to keep my stories fun so try and keep the requests non boring lol :))

If you have any questions please ask

[redflagsandbanners]

Werewolf Robin digs holes with a shovel for no reason. Shepherd Nancy is very tired of covering them back up before her sheep have a chance to fall in.

[maddie-may13]

Masterlist

Some info ~

I’m in a lot of fandoms and tend to to start fanfics and not finish them so I thought this would be a good idea lmao

If you want any of my full fanfics my wattpad is mads_may1014

I don’t write smut rn bc I’m just not comfortable with it

I don’t write ships only xreaders

I'm going to add more fandoms later on but i'm just fixated on these rn

At the moment I only write for a Female!Reader Or Gn!Reader just bc thats's what i'm most comfortable with

I take requests

X reader (platonic)

Grey’s Anatomy ~

Mark Sloan - Nothing Yet

Derek Shepherd - Nothing Yet

Alex Karev - Nothing Yet

Amelia Shepherd - Nothing Yet

Callie Torres - Nothing Yet

Jackson Avery - Nothing Yet

Meredith Grey - Nothing Yet

Lexie Grey - Nothing Yet

Izzy Stevens - Nothing Yet

Christina Yang - Nothing Yet

Arizona Robbins - Nothing Yet

George O’Malley - Nothing Yet

April Kenner - Nothing Yet

9-1-1 ~

Evan Buckley - Nothing Yet

Eddie Diaz - Nothing Yet

Chimney - Nothing Yet

Athena Grant - Nothing Yet

Bobby Nash - Nothing Yet

Hen Wilson - Nothing Yet

9-1-1 Lonestar ~

TK Strand - Nothing Yet Owen Strand - Nothing yet Carlos Reyes - Nothing Yet Judd Ryder - Nothing Yet Grace Ryder - Nothing Yet Paul Strickland - Nothing Yet Marjan Marwani - Nothing Yet

Marauders ~

James Potter - Nothing Yet Sirius Black - Nothing Yet Remus Lupin - Nothing Yet Regulus Black - Nothing Yet Lily Evans - Nothing yet Pandora (Last Name) - Nothing Yet Marlene McKinnon - Nothing Yet

Stranger Things ~

Steve Harrington - Nothing Yet Eddie Munson - Nothing Yet Eleven Hopper - Nothing Yet Max Mayfield - Nothing Yet Dustin Henderson - Nothing Yet Will Byers - Nothing Yet Mike Wheeler - Nothing Yet Nancy Wheeler - Nothing Yet Robin Buckley - Nothing Yet Jonathan Byers - Nothing Yet Lucas Sinclair - Nothing Yet

X Reader (Romantic)

Grey's Anatomy ~

Mark Sloan - Nothing Yet

Derek Shepherd - Nothing Yet

Alex Karev - Nothing Yet

Amelia Shepherd - Nothing Yet

Callie Torres - Nothing Yet

Jackson Avery - Nothing Yet

Meredith Grey - Nothing Yet

Lexie Grey - Nothing Yet

Izzy Stevens - Nothing Yet

Christina Yang - Nothing Yet

Arizona Robbins - Nothing Yet

George O’Malley - Nothing Yet

April Kenner - Nothing Yet

911 ~

Evan Buckley - Nothing Yet

Eddie Diaz - Nothing Yet

Chimney - Nothing Yet

Athena Grant - Nothing Yet

Bobby Nash - Nothing Yet

Hen Wilson - Nothing Yet

911 Lonestar ~

Owen Strand - Nothing yet Judd Ryder - Nothing Yet Grace Ryder - Nothing Yet Paul Strickland - Nothing Yet Marjan Marwani - Nothing Yet

Marauders ~

James Potter - Nothing Yet Sirius Black - Nothing Yet Remus Lupin - Nothing Yet Regulus Black - Nothing Yet Lily Evans - Nothing yet Pandora (Last Name) - Nothing Yet Marlene McKinnon - Nothing Yet

Stranger Things ~

Steve Harrington - Nothing Yet Eddie Munson - Nothing Yet Eleven Hopper - Nothing Yet Max Mayfield - Nothing Yet Dustin Henderson - Nothing Yet Will Byers - Nothing Yet Mike Wheeler - Nothing Yet Nancy Wheeler - Nothing Yet Robin Buckley - Nothing Yet Jonathan Byers - Nothing Yet Lucas Sinclair - Nothing Yet

X Daughter!Reader

Grey’s Anatomy ~

Mark Sloan - Nothing Yet

Derek Shepherd - Nothing Yet

Alex Karev - Nothing Yet

Amelia Shepherd - Nothing Yet

Callie Torres - Nothing Yet

Jackson Avery - Nothing Yet

Meredith Grey - Nothing Yet

Lexie Grey - Nothing Yet

Izzy Stevens - Nothing Yet

Christina Yang - Nothing Yet

Arizona Robbins - Nothing Yet

George O’Malley - Nothing Yet

April Kenner - Nothing Yet

9-1-1 ~

Evan Buckley - Nothing Yet

Eddie Diaz - Nothing Yet

Chimney - Nothing Yet

Athena Grant - Nothing Yet

Bobby Nash - Nothing Yet

Hen Wilson - Nothing Yet

9-1-1 Lonestar ~

TK Strand - Nothing Yet Owen Strand - Nothing yet Carlos Reyes - Nothing Yet Judd Ryder - Nothing Yet Grace Ryder - Nothing Yet Paul Strickland - Nothing Yet Marjan Marwani - Nothing Yet

[eemcintyre]

Me and this chart is the equivalent of the man with the string board meme

An exhaustive-as-I-could-make-it chart of the actresses I think look alike and how they are all c o n n e c t e d do you see my vision

In order from left to right, from the top row down:

Jeanne Damas

Michelle Trachtenberg

Anna Karina

Cate Blanchett

Julianna Margulies

Nancy Kerrigan

Nicole Kidman

Kim Novak

Virna Lisi

Brittany Snow

Dakota Johnson

Penelope Cruz

Anne Hathaway

Connie Sellecca

Isabella Rossellini

Helen Schneider

Grace Kelly

Diane Kruger

Alison Doody

Sarah Wynter

Sophia Myles

Kate Winslet

Victoria Pedretti

Liv Tyler

Michelle Monaghan

Rebecca Ferguson

Ingrid Bergman

Nastassja Kinski

Helen Mirren

Jennifer Lawrence

Hayley Mills

Diane Lane

Julia Stiles

Kat Dennings

Mary Page Keller

Laura Prepon

Jennifer Jason Leigh

Elisabeth Shue

Maggie Lawson

Alicia Silverstone

Madchen Amick

Phoebe Tonkin

Dagmara Dominczyk

Megan Fox

Ana de Armas

Olivia Munn

Rachel Leigh Cook

Katie Holmes

Sarah Clarke

Jennifer Morrison

Charlize Theron

Melora Hardin

Ashley Judd

Katherine Heigl

Jeanne Tripplehorn

Kelly McGillis

Alanis Morissette

Michelle Borth

Sasha Alexander

Marion Cotillard

Rose Byrne

Natalie Portman

Keira Knightley

Sadie Robertson

Sharon Tate

Sheryl Lee

Amanda Logan

Stephanie Beatriz

Amy Winehouse

Maggie Wheeler

Zooey Deschanel

Katy Perry

Salma Hayek

Queen Letizia of Spain

Kate Middleton

Hilarie Burton

Stephanie J. Block

Olivia Wilde

Courteney Cox

Demi Moore

Jennifer Connelly

Sarah Vickers

Sarah Topham

Pamela Sue Martin

Reiko Aylesworth

Megan Boone

Cobie Smulders

Andie MacDowell

Julia Roberts

Carla Gugino

Jennifer Garner

Rachel McAdams

Felicity Jones

Sherry Stringfield

Cybill Shepherd

Ellen Barkin

Cameron Diaz

Juliette Lewis

Cindy Williams

Ginnifer Goodwin

Sherilyn Fenn

Hedy Lamarr

Dita von Teese

Audrey Tautou

Jamie Alexander

Lauren Graham

Kelly Preston

Melissa Fumero

Sarah Greene

Christina Ricci

[ynscrazylife]

WHO I WRITE FOR

* will be continuously updated

— 9-1-1

Athena Grant, Bobby Nash, Eddie Diaz, Evan Buckley, Henrietta Wilson, Howie Han, Maddie Buckley, May Grant

— Bridgerton

Anthony Bridgerton, Benedict Bridgerton, Bridgerton Family, Colin Bridgerton, Cressida Cowper, Eloise Bridgerton, Francesca Bridgerton, Simon Basset

— DC/Arrowverse

Alex Danvers, Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent, Kara Danvers, Lena Luthor, Selina Kyle

— Call of Duty

Alejandro Vargas, Alex Keller, Farah Karim, John Price, Johnny MacTavrish, Kate Laswell, Kyle Garrick, Simon Riley

— Criminal Minds

Aaron Hotchner, David Rossi, Derek Morgan, Elle Greenaway, Emily Prentiss, Jennifer Jareau, Luke Alvez, Matt Simmons, Penelope Garcia, Spencer Reid, Will LaMontagne

— Game of Thrones/HOTD

Aemond Targaryen, Alicent Hightower, Brienne of Tarth, Cersei Lannister, Criston Cole, Daemond Targaryen, Harwin Strong, Helaena Targaryen, Jamie Lannister, Jon Snow, Margaery Tyrell, Rhaenyra Targaryen, Robb Stark, Sansa Stark, Theon Greyjoy

— Grey’s Anatomy/Station 19

Addison Montgomery, Alex Karev, Amelia Shepherd, Andrew DeLuca, Andy Herrera, April Kepner, Atticus Lincoln, Arizona Robbins, Ben Warren, Callie Torres, Carina DeLuca, Dean Miller, Derek Shepherd, Izzie Stevens, Jack Gibson, Jackson Avery, Jo Wilson, Lexie Grey, Lucas Ripley, Mark Sloan, Maya Bishop, Meredith Grey, Monica Beltran, Nathan Riggs, Owen Hunt, Teddy Altman, Victoria Hughes

— Harry Potter

Bill Weasley, Cedric Diggory, Fleur Delacour, Ginny Weasley, James Potter, Lily Evans, Marlene McKinnon, Nymphadora Tonks, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black

— Marvel/Spiderverse

Agatha Harkness, Bruce Banner, Bucky Barnes, Bobbi Morse, Carol Danvers, Clint Barton, Gamora, Kate Bishop, Loki, Maria Hill, Mary Jane Watson, Melina Vostokoff, Miguel O’Hara, Monica Rambeau, Natasha Romanoff, Peter B. Parker, Peter Parker (AG), Peter Parker (TH), Peter Quill, Pietro Maximoff, Sam Wilson, Scott Lang, Sharon Carter, Spider-Noir, Stephen Strange, Steve Rogers, Sylvie, Thena, Thor, Tony Stark, Wanda Maximoff, Yelena Belova

— Star Wars

Anakin Skywalker, Han Solo, Leia Organa, Luke Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Padmè Amidala, Poe Dameron, Rey

— Stranger Things

Eddie Munson, Chrissy Cunningham, Jonathan Byers, Nancy Wheeler, Robin Buckley, Steve Harrington

— Superntural

Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester

— The Bear

Carmy Berzatto, Natalie Berzatto, Richie Jerimovich

— The Hunger Games

Cinna, Effie Trinket, Finnick Odair, Gale Hawthorne, Haymitch Abernathy, Johanna Mason, Katinss Everdeen, Peeta Mellark

— The Rookie

Angela Lopez, Aaron Thorsen, Bailey Nune, Jackson West, John Nolan, Lucy Chen, Nyla Harper, Tim Bradford, Wesley Evers

— The Vampire Diaries

Caroline Forbes, Damon Salvatore, Elijah Mikaelson, Enzo St. John, Hayley Marshall, Klaus Mikaelson, Kol Mikaelson, Rebekah Mikaelson, Stefan Salvatore, Tyler Lockwood

— Top Gun

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw, Jake “Hangman” Seresin, Natasha “Phoenix” Trace, Nick “Goose” Bradshaw, Penny Benjamin, Pete “Maverick” Mitchell

[unclewaynemunson]

Karen Wheeler thinks it’d be a good idea to have her children and their friends do a nativity scene on Christmas Eve to collect money for the households that are still suffering from the consequences of the earthquake back in March. The cast looks as follows:

Holly is baby Jesus, of course

Nancy is Mary. Karen had assumed that’d make Steve or Jonathan Joseph, but no, the one showing up in old fashioned men’s clothing and a fake beard is none other than Robin.

Eddie insists he should be the angel out of spite for everyone who was ready to accuse him of being a satanist killer. He goes all out with golden wings and a crown of Christmas lights, but his Hellfire shirt kind of undermines the effort (he didn’t have any money left for a proper outfit after he spent all he had on those wings)

Mike and Will are the shepherds, with Dustin and Erica as their sheepies.

El, Max and Lucas are the wise men

Jonathan is the donkey and Argyle the ox. They just use their roles as an excuse to lie in the hay all day (and smoke when nobody’s watching)

Steve refuses to participate because he thinks it’s dumb, but Karen manages to convince him that *someone* has to be the bright shining star and that he’s perfect for that role in his yellow sweater, so he eventually gives in.

[lavenderstobins]

duddeeee I saw your post and I gotta ask about Josieverse 🙏 but then I saw your Ghostface au, AND Steve has powers au and now I'm foaming at the mouth

ty for the ask!!! i'll give you a tidbit from each <3

Josieverse

aka single parent robin au! nancy comes back to hawkins after eight years to find robin has a six-year-old daughter (josie). robin and nancy fall for each other again and have to figure out whether they want to be together, because robin has josie to think of and nancy has to work out whether or not she wants to be a stepmother. (they fall in love and get together, obviously). nancy adjusting to rebuilding her relationships AND parenthood and catching up on the years she's missed... so dear to me. here's a snippet:

“I’m not a baby,” the little girl says, sounding offended. She puffs up, fixing Nancy with an indignant stare, even as she tugs Robin’s arm. “I’m six and a half.” “Josie,” Robin murmurs, perhaps in warning, but Nancy’s struck by the realisation that Robin’s bright blue eyes are staring up at her from this little girl’s face. Her mouth dries as she looks back at the girl, taking in the smattering of freckles across her nose, the features uncannily similar to photos she’s seen from Robin’s childhood. Her head snaps back up to Robin, and Robin looks guilty, confirming her suspicions. It feels like the wind’s knocked out of her all at once.  “She’s yours?” Nancy whispers.

Scream AU

this one has one chapter posted on my ao3 already! students at hawkins high start getting murdered and when a few deaths hit too close to home for nancy she takes it upon herself to figure it out. who the killer is remains a mystery for now... it's focused on ronance & stobin and the older teens as a whole. here's a snippet from before everything kicks off:

“Wha’happened,” she mumbles, sinking back to rest her back against the couch. She looks at Eddie accusingly. “Why aren’t you, you know, weh.” She feebly waves a hand at him. He laughs, the bastard. “Designated driver, Wheeler.” He sits on the couch, carefully avoiding where her head is resting, and laughs again when she gives him the middle finger. “As for what happened, I shepherded all of back here last night. Steve and Robin went upstairs to find bedding for everyone, and then passed out in Steve’s bed, so they’re upstairs. You, Byers and I raided Madam Harrington’s bedroom for bedding and then slept on the floor.”

Steve has powers AU

steve has, you guessed it, powers. an ability to bring back the dead, to be precise. it's a 5+1 things fic that covers five times he gives life + one time he takes one. i haven't started writing this one as an actual fic yet, only mini threads over on my twitter, but here's a snippet:

nancy’s crying, calling jonathan’s name, and all he can think is that the universe can’t be unkind enough for joyce byers to lose both her sons. “you gotta wake up, man,” he says, aware that his voice cracks, frantically tapping jonathan’s cheek. he’s not breathing, and this is the guy who has rocked his shit not even 24 hours ago but he— he can’t be dead, not after all this. so he’s not thinking straight, is the thing. he’s holding jonathan, and he’s thinking that jonathan can’t be dead, he won’t allow it, he never again wants to hear the noise nancy made when she saw jonathan get thrown.  “get up, man,” he says, urgent, desperate, and— jonathan gasps for air.