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#fluff crawlspace
platypus-quacks-too · 2 years
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The Fluff Crawlspace >> shamy + a glimpse into the future (straight from the past)
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nerdforestgirl · 11 months
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Note: I didn’t do the whole Fluff Crawlspace thing this year, but today is still the 13th anniversary of the introduction of Amy Farrah Fowler. I don’t expect anyone to actually read this, but I still wanted to mark the occasion. Here’s one for old time’s sake if I still have any Shamy followers here.
Sheldon was sitting in his old apartment, playing video games with Leonard, Howard and Raj for their monthly video game night. He missed the place more now that he lived a few miles away in a house with Amy, but unlike Leonard and Penny who had a second bedroom for their son, Sheldon and Amy had to move as soon as they saw that second pink line on Amy's pregnancy test.
Still, he had this place. Where he lived for years with Leonard and then later also Penny. It didn't really feel like home anymore, but the comfort was still nice. Especially when things just seemed like they wouldn't stop changing. In the years since he won his Nobel, he and Amy had moved, had their son Leonard, and written a book together. It was a lot to happen in just four short years, but at least Sheldon still had his friends and his wife.
Speaking of his wife, Sheldon looked down at his watch. It was ticking close to nine.
“Oh, crud!” Sheldon said to no one in particular.
“Language, Sheldon,” Penny teased from the floor where she was playing with her son. They were working on a Duplo Lego taller than the boy.
“Sorry,” Sheldon said. He hated cursing in front of the kids. “Amy is going to kill me. The Last of Us starts in ten minutes, and the bus ride home will be nearly twice that long.”
“So? She doesn't like your nerd stuff,” Penny pointed out.
“She's really come around on many of my favorite shows. She insists on watching both The Last of Us and The Mandalorian every week,” Sheldon explained.
Howard, Raj, and Leonard all started laughing.
Sheldon looked around at his friends who all seemed to be laughing at him. He didn't understand what he said that was so funny. It was true that Amy had never been particularly into his interests, but she did enjoy both shows a great deal.
“You know what they say, if your girl watches The Last of Us and The Mandalorian, she's not your girl. She's Pedro Pascal's girl,” Leonard explained.
“No,” Sheldon argued, but it was true that those were the only shows that Amy enjoyed watching with him now. Plus she had recently suggested that they rewatch Game of Thrones. “No,” Sheldon said again in realization. Then he got up and ran down the stairs to catch a bus home. The elevator, broken for so long, still worked after being repaired. Sheldon just didn't have time to wait for it.
When Sheldon got home, Amy was creeping out of little Leonard's room. She must have just gotten the baby to sleep, so Sheldon pulled Amy away from the baby's door. He had spent enough sleepless nights with Leonard that even he would slap himself across his face for waking the boy.
“What's up?” Amy asked.
“Are you in love with Pedro Pascal?” Sheldon asked.
Amy let out a sigh and pitched the bridge of her nose. “Sheldon, I have never met Pedro Pascal,” she reminded him. She never knew where something like this came from with him.
“You didn't answer the question,” Sheldon said.
“No. I'm not in love with a man I've never met in my life. I'm in love with the crazy one standing in front of me now. You know, my husband and the father of my child,” Amy said.
Then it came back to Sheldon in a flash. The conception of said child. It was right after Sheldon came home from Comic-Con. When he was dressed as Din Djarin, the character played by Pedro Pascal. He came home that night, and Amy couldn't keep her hands off of Sheldon.
“The Mandalorian fathered my child!” Sheldon accused with a finger pointed at Amy.
“Sheldon, look at me. You fathered Leonard. He's your son. What has gotten into you?”
“The guys said that you only watch The Last of Us and The Mandalorian with me because you love Pedro Pascal,” Sheldon finally explained.
That was something that Amy could finally understand. And it wasn't exactly false. Amy had had a bit of a thing for Pedro Pascal since he was Oberyn Martell in Game of Thrones. That didn't mean she was cheating on Sheldon. As far as her husband went, it mostly meant that she wished he'd grow a mustache. She wouldn't leave Sheldon for a movie star.
“Sheldon, he's a handsome man. So are you. Don't you ever want to watch something because someone in it is attractive?” Amy asked as she gently rubbed her husband's arm. Then she remembered who she was talking to. The only person on the planet she had ever heard him express attraction to was her. It made her feel a little dirty thinking about that because Sheldon was a lot of things, any loyal was number one.
“Can we still watch The Last of Us? I'm actually invested in the story now,” Amy said. The characters were facing a pretty big cliffhanger, and the previous week had mostly been a flashback. Amy really needed to know how it all ended.
“Yes,” Sheldon agreed. Mostly because he wanted to keep watching. Unlike Amy, he knew what would happen next because he played the game. He still wanted to watch it play out on screen.
“Good. And he's not more handsome than you,” Amy promised, but she had her fingers crossed behind her back. She didn't quite believe it. It was still what Sheldon needed to hear.
Two months later, Amy and Sheldon needed to fly to New York for a meeting about the paperback version of their book. Originally only Sheldon was going to go, but Leonard and Penny offered to watch Leonard. They insisted that Sheldon and Amy needed a couple days away with a big comfy bed, plenty of sleep, and maybe a few other things together. And what better place than where Sheldon and Amy spent their honeymoon.
“That guy looks like Pedro Pascal,” Amy muttered to Sheldon as they waited for their plane to New York. It wasn't exactly uncommon for them to see famous people in the first class lounge the publisher paid for, but Amy only thought the man bared a passing resemblance.
After their minor fight, Sheldon had mostly not brought up Pedro Pascal or her possible attraction to him after that. He just wouldn't allow them to make love after watching anything he was in. That was fine with Amy. Fungal zombies didn't exactly put her in the mood anyway.
Sheldon looked at the guy for a moment, but didn't say anything to Amy. Instead, he got up and stomped over to the guy Amy thought looked like Pedro Pascal. Amy was alarmed, so she followed him.
“You stay away from my wife,” Sheldon said in a firm voice as they got closer.
Amy realized in horror that the man she thought looked like Pedro Pascal was Pedro Pascal. She slid behind Sheldon in complete embarrassment, but she also pulled on his arm. Anything to get out of this situation.
“Excuse me?” Pedro Pascal said. He had been minding his own business up until then, and he was sure he had never seen this man before in his life.
“You stay away from my wife,” Sheldon repeated.
“Sheldon, we really don't need a headline saying Nobel Laureate fights Pedro Pascal at LAX,” Amy reminded him. Sheldon still often forgot that he was a public figure now. It didn't matter much in their normal life, but the press would eat this up. Plus, they might both have tenure now, but that didn't mean they couldn't be fired for something completely off the deep end like fighting one of the most famous men in the country at the airport.
Sheldon looked down at Amy and nodded. After a moment, he turned back to walk to where they abandoned their bags before they could be reported as such to security. She could still talk a small amount of sense into him on occasion, and Amy said a quick prayer of thanks that today was one of those times.
“I'm really sorry, Mr. Pascal. My husband and I are actually big fans. He just knows that I have a little bit of a crush on you. I don't know what got into him,” Amy lied. She knew full well that what got into Sheldon was Sheldon.
“Is that guy really a Nobel Laureate?” Pedro Pascal asked Amy.
“Yeah. We both won the Nobel Prize in physics a few years ago,” Amy said with a small smile. She thought about asking for a selfie, but she had already taken up enough of Pedro Pascal's time. She rejoined her husband, and worked to distract him until it was time to board their flight. She prayed they weren't sitting anywhere near Pedro Pascal.
A couple nights later, Amy was snuggled up to Sheldon's side watching one of those late night TV talk shows. They only watched them when little Leonard was having trouble going down to sleep because they were on late and Sheldon refused to have a TV in their bedroom. However, there was a TV here in the hotel room for Amy to flip through channels. She stopped when she saw a familiar face on the screen.
“And it turns out both he and the wife are Nobel Laureates, I swear to God,” Pedro Pascal said to the host.
“Oh no,” Amy said. Then she saw her phone light up. The name of the caller was President Seibert.
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fort-cozy-mcblanket · 11 months
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Happy Shamy Anniversary! Can't believe it's been 13 years since Sheldon and Amy first met!
I had three ideas for my celebratory fic this year and by some miracle I ended up writing all three. One I posted on their wedding anniversary, one I posted yesterday, and this here is the third.
Thank you to my beta reader Stark and also Uri for reading this over! You guys are the best! And a special thank you to my friend Alejandra for answering my question of what's the most romantic equation. :)
This is also available on AO3 and FF.Net.
Please enjoy!
The first time she did it, it was on a whim.
Amy had an early-morning department meeting and was up and ready to go to work while Sheldon was still in the shower. Before she left, she opened the bathroom door to call out a goodbye, but then saw the steamed-up mirror above the sink and opted to leave her parting message there instead.
'Have a good day! Love you!' she scrawled with her finger before quickly retreating.
She wasn't sure why she did it exactly. There was just something about the idea of Sheldon stepping out of the shower, all naked and dripping, to see her little surprise note that tickled her. She drove all the way to Caltech with a smile on her face and then forgot about it for the rest of the day until she got home. The bathroom mirror was pristine by then and Sheldon never mentioned anything about it, but as she brushed her teeth in front of it that night she found herself smiling again, hoping he had liked it.
The second time she did it was just a few days later, that weekend. She got up early Sunday to meet her mother and aunt for breakfast and once again her departure time coincided with Sheldon's scheduled bathroom time.
'Have fun today! See you later!' she wrote this time, and drew a heart at the end for good measure.
When she returned that afternoon, the mirror was clean once again and Sheldon was out with the guys. She didn't think anything more of it.
The third time was on the following weekend. Amy was cleaning up from breakfast when Sheldon went to take his shower. While he was in there, Amy slipped in to write "Looking good!" in the mirror steam before slipping back out, grinning. She then settled on the bed with her iPad and waited for her turn to use the bathroom. A few minutes later the water turned off and Sheldon stepped out wearing just a towel, with a bottle of glass cleaner and microfiber cloth in hand.
"Here, since you insist on dirtying up our mirror, you can clean it this time," he said, foisting the cleaning items onto her.
"You didn't like my messages?" she asked, blinking up at him.
"It's bad enough the bathroom here isn't well-ventilated, the mirror is sure to corrode from all the condensation build-up. I would prefer not to think about all the germs and oils from your hands smeared on its surface too."
Amy sighed. Of course that's what he would think about, practicality over sentimentality. Of course she probably should have known that.
"You're upset?" Sheldon asked, surprising her.
"No," she said, but then paused. Sheldon wasn't good with reading emotions, but here he was making an effort. It didn't help either of them if she wasn't honest. "Well, maybe a little."
"Why?"
"I know it's silly," she explained. "But I guess I wanted us to be the type of couple who leaves little messages like that for each other. I thought it was romantic."
"Romantic? Smudgy mirrors are romantic now?" He threw up his hands. "Good lord, I'll never be able to keep up with all this nonsense!"
Despite herself, Amy couldn't stop from laughing a bit. Her poor, beleaguered boyfriend. He really did try to keep up with her romantic needs, she knew this. She could meet him halfway here, maybe find some other way to leave him love notes, maybe in his lunch.
"Okay, you're right," she said, standing up. "I'll clean up."
"Thank you!" he called after her as she strode into their bathroom and got to work.
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When Amy stepped out of the shower a few mornings later to see an equation written out in the mirror's fog, she was surprised. And annoyed. She quickly wrapped herself up in a towel and stomped out to find Sheldon.
"Oh, so I can't leave you notes on the mirror, but you can use it as an extra whiteboard for your work?" she asked.
"Didn't you read it?" he asked, looking up from where he was working on his laptop.
She opened her mouth, about to fire back that of course she read it, but actually she hadn't. Not really. She hadn't even put her glasses back on yet. She had only seen enough to know it was an equation, not words.
"Come on." Sheldon took her hand and led her back to the bathroom, passing her glasses over once they were both inside. She put them on and gave the message another look.
(∂ + m) ψ = 0
"The Dirac equation?"
"Oh good, you know it." Sheldon looked at her expectantly.
"Sure, the quantum entanglement of subatomic particles," she continued. Sheldon kept staring at her, his eyebrows raised, his head inclined toward her. She stared back.
"Good lord, you're going to make me actually say it!" he said after a few seconds passed. "Two microscopic particles can interact in a way that their quantum states become intertwined, so much so that the particles stay linked together even when a great distance comes between them."
"The initial interaction causes the two separate particles to become one system," she summed up for him, smiling. She saw it now. How two separate things can interact and affect each other in a profound and lasting way. How one could even cause the other to set aside the important principles of order and cleanliness in order to leave a love note on the bathroom mirror. "That's awfully sentimental of you, Dr. Cooper."
"Yes, well," Sheldon sighed and bent over to retrieve the bottle of glass cleaner from the cabinet next to the sink. "I blame the entanglement."
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Today, May 24, is the anniversary of Shamy meeting for the first time, a whopping 12 years ago. I wasn't sure if our Fluff Crawlspace tradition was still happening, but regardless, I don't have anything new to contribute, so I thought I'd bring back my previous Fluff Crawlspace contributions in honor of the day. To any Shamy fans still out there, I still love them and love everything the fandom ever was and maybe still is. ❤
2021
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2020
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2019
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2018
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cutieshamybabies · 2 years
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Happy 12th Shamyversary, my dear friends <3 Here's my gift for the Fluff Crawlspace :)
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miscelunaaa · 2 years
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whispers in the dark | jhs
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pairing: sleep paralysis demon hoseok x gender neutral reader (platonic)
genre: … fluff?? Angst. Post-break up au. Supernatural au.
summary: Hoseok just doesn’t have it in him to make you even more miserable right now, so he tries something a little different.
rating: 18+ because I do what I want
word count: 1.4k
warnings: Swearing. Sleep paralysis. Creepy sleep paralysis demon Hoseok a la the “More” concept photos. Watching people while they’re sleep but not in an erotic way lol. Referenced Jimin x reader; technically a post break-up situation. Some image self-consciousness from Hoseok. Platonic spooning. Lots of talk about feeling or sensing smells and emotions. I know it seems creepy but really this is very soft, I promise.
notes: Ah wow, this is short but there’s so much in here. It started in a group chat with “idk what to do with more hoseok in the best way” and then it turned into me and @bangtanintotheroom​ taking “this hobi is our sleep paralysis demon” and running with it in two wildly different directions sldkjfhaslkdj. I know I’m supposed to be on break but like after finishing stuff last month, I had this whole “will I ever write again” crisis. Without @thatlongspringnight​ and @xjoonchildx​ this wouldn’t be here, and I wouldn’t feel ten million times better now than I did leading up to my meltdown. So, thank you. It means the world to me. I’m just going to yeet this into the void and get out but I miss yall!! Hope you’re having a nice July, wherever you may be :)
my masterlist | my disclaimers | read on ao3
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Hoseok hasn’t gotten the chance to stretch like this in ages. As he steps across the lush carpet, he lets his muscles lengthen and move. It’s dusty and cramped in his little crawlspace, even with his cleaning regime. When was the last time you let him out his literal hellhole? 
He looks at your sleeping form. You’re passed out, that’s for sure, huddled beneath layers of sheets and blankets. The dawn is beginning to trickle through your curtains, your eyelids freely fluttering in deep sleep, unencumbered by the sleep mask that’s somehow slipped off during the night. 
He can feel how frozen you are, how you want to turn over to a more comfortable position but can’t. Ah, it’s been so long since he could feed freely like this. What a wonderful welcome you’ve decided to give him.
Hoseok straightens and adjusts his cap as he glances around the room. It doesn’t seem that much has changed since he was last here. There’s a calendar propped up on your dresser, and he’s surprised to see that it’s been at least a year since he was last freed from the confines of your mind. He’d stopped visiting you shortly after you started keeping that punk around … what was his name? Jim? Tim?? Something like that. It’s not easy haunting folks who co-sleep with others. Finally he’s gone, and Hoseok can resume doing what he does best. Finally he can just lurk and get the energy he needs after his long sequestering. 
Stepping closer, Hoseok leans down to leer at your face. You can’t see him, not really, not in a way that matters. But you can feel him, and he can hear your breath quicken as he draws near. His veins sigh in content as the anxiety leeches from your body into his own. It feels sweet and soft against his senses. You always did taste better than his previous charges. 
If you’d kept him inside much longer, he was going to have to find someone else to feed from. So thank god Timbourine or whatever isn’t here today. He reaches out and brushes the sheets from your face so that he can see more than just your eyes.
Huh. That’s odd. 
Your cheeks are grimy. 
Hoseok, dead inside as he might be, feels his black hole of a heart fall. Fuck. 
Had you cried yourself to sleep?
Hoseok stands and steps away, casting his eyes about the room. It still smells like Jimothy or whatever, just barely. You might smell sweet on your own, but there’s a musty spice that undergirds everything. It doesn’t smell like you, and it’s like it’s faded. You probably don’t even smell it anymore, but that doesn’t mean you don’t somehow feel it.
There’s a box in the corner that smells stronger than the rest of your room. It’s got clothes in it that don’t look like you’d be caught dead wearing them. And there’s a picture frame laying flat on its face right next to your calendar. He feels like an idiot for not noticing it sooner. 
“Aw, darling, did that dickwad break your heart?” he murmurs. His heart goes out to you. He doesn’t really much do desire himself but he imagines that the emotions are torrid and stressful. “That’s so unfair, isn’t it?”
It doesn’t seem right to feed off you now, for some reason. The succulent taste of stress he’d been taking from you now feels bitter. It tastes off, spoiled even. Was he really gone so long that he developed a conscience? This is garbage. This is not a part of the plan at all.  
Hoseok sighs as he sits next to your sleeping form. You don’t move. 
“What am I going to do with you, darling? You kept me tucked away for so long and now I can’t even take what I need.” 
You don’t reply, of course. You can’t. You’re frozen in place, paralyzed and dead to the world. Awake and yet not, all at once. Hoseok has craved being able to take what he wants from you for ages, but now it just feels unfair. 
The demon sighs again, noticing now all the things he’d not noticed before in his eagerness to feed. You’ve got pillows tucked behind you, as if to simulate a person at your back. One of them is even wrapped in a shirt. Ah, how sad. There’s other mementos about the room too: a sock in the corner, discarded undergarments next to the laundry hamper, all sorts of small things that have that unfamiliar scent wreathed around them. Even when he doesn’t think there’s more, there’s always more. He can’t imagine how you must feel, having all this crap around that belongs to someone no longer in your life. The agony of finding still more at every turn must be torture. 
He finds himself pitying you. It’s strange. He knows it is. He’s a demon, a thought form, a parasite even; nothing more or less. He shouldn’t have any feelings not placed within him that didn’t come from his host. 
Is that what this is, then? Is this you looking for comfort?
Hoseok’s not sure how he feels about this. He’s never heard of someone manifesting comfort from their sleep paralysis demon. You’re one of hundreds of people he’s haunted. This shouldn’t be anything new even though it clearly is. 
Maybe he’s just getting soft. Maybe being stuck in your mind made him soft. 
He should have gotten out sooner. 
Suddenly, you whimper. Hoseok about jumps out of his skin. He scrambles away from the bed, his eyes flying to see if you’ve somehow managed to rouse yourself without him noticing. 
No, the paralysis holds, but only just. Your eyelids flutter, your fingertips twitch. Still, you don’t move. The emotions wafting off you shift from fear to yearning. His stomach churns and his head spins as the sensation registers. It’s even stronger than the anxiety. It’s just pure, unadulterated loneliness. 
Hoseok takes a deep breath. 
Damn it, you’re soft. And he’s soft for you. 
He takes his cap off and runs his hand over his face, and then through his hair. He’s not much to cuddle with. As far as demons like him go, he’s kind of scrawny. To make himself look scary he has to lean on makeup and piercings and clothing. There’s only so much a glamour can do to make him look intimidating. And none of it’s easy to shed so … maybe if he just spoons you from behind you won’t notice how wimpy he actually looks? 
Your breathing has picked up again, and you whine into the cool air of the bedroom. How are you doing that? Hoseok puts the question out of his mind as he toes off his shoes. 
“Okay, fine, I’ll give you want, but just this once. Just because I missed you or whatever.” 
He rounds the bed and carefully crawls on top of the sheets on the side opposite you. He tosses the pillows away, even the one wrapped in Jimbert or whatever’s shirt, so that he can come up behind you. He fits his body behind yours, the warmth of your body seeping like a warm tide into his clothes and his flesh. 
He trembles. It’s been a while since he was this close with anyone. He’s a big spoon anyway, this is fine, but fuck, it’s kind of weird too. 
After a few moments, he reaches around your middle and pulls you closer. Might as well really lean into this shit if he’s going to do it in the first place. Thank whatever that this is a solitary job. He’d never hear the end of it if one of his colleagues saw him comforting his hauntee like this. 
For a moment, Hoseok wonders if this is doing anything for you at all. After a few minutes, however, your breathing slows, and you move of your own accord. 
You nestle. 
You nestle back into Hoseok’s chest. As if this shit is natural. As if it’s exactly what you needed. Your hand finds his, and squeezes it. 
His heart drops. 
This is more than he anticipated. And he’s horrified to realize that he kind of likes it. 
The fear is gone from you, and so is the longing; the loneliness that was clouding your heart has been burned away like mist by the sun. Hoseok breathes in the scent of your skin at the nape of your neck. Sweet. Content. Strong. 
Hoseok bites his lip. 
Just a few more minutes like this. And then maybe he’ll leave. Can’t let himself get used to this. And you can’t get used to it either. He’ll let you have this moment together. Tomorrow morning he’ll get back to doing his actual job. 
For now, he’ll let himself enjoy this with you for as long as he can muster. 
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Thank you for reading! Drop me an ask and tell me what you think. Find me in various places at my carrd :)
©miscelunaaa 2022. My work is only found on this blog and under my ao3 pseud. Do not, under any circumstances, copy or repost my work.Thank you.
posted: 7.4.2022
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butternuggets-blog · 8 months
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Laddie Come Home
SAS Rogue Heroes; werewolf AU Fluff, Slight Angst With A Happy Ending
Chapter Three
David wore many names in the coming weeks as he travelled the breadth of France.
‘Frou-frou’ was picked up by a young couple who were still running on the high of their recent shotgun wedding. They weren’t able to take a honeymoon, but they took their new puppy with them to the next town over while they stayed in a cottage loaned to them by an aunt.
‘Boots’ rode the railroad with a group of burly electricians who had been charged with rewiring towns that had had their power knocked out by German bombs. He had a whale of a time running wires through crawlspaces too small for human bodies to fit, and nibbling bootlaces whenever everyone’s backs were turned.
He had the shock of his life when he glimpsed himself in a shop window and a six year old pup looked back.
There were a few close calls as he crossed wide swathes of wilderness to reach occupied France. A German patrol opened fire out of nowhere, and he was forced to scurry down a rabbit hole to avoid the hail of bullets.
A hunter and his bloodhound tracked him down for over two miles, muttering about meat costs and fur gloves the entire time. He found a stream and jumped into it, letting the current carry him downstream until he was certain that he was free and clear.
‘Florain’ was taken in by an overworked mother with six young children. The pup was reliably informed by his new brothers and sisters that a fairy had come to stay with them at the same time; who else could be chopping the wood for the fire in the middle of the night, or fixing the holes in their clothes that their mother hadn’t gotten around to doing before she collapsed, exhausted, into bed. The fairy, and the puppy, disappeared only after the new housemaid was hired.
Puddles and glass panes showed a young wolf rapidly growing into a teenager.
‘Dion’ and ‘Oskar’ and ‘Romilly’ were soldier’s pets, guard dogs in training for French-German troops. For some reason Resistance operations in the area ran as smoothly as ever, if not better, with them bumbling around. Each dog disappeared just before they were put down.
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David sat down in front of the sign post and cocked his head. Paris was behind him and the coastline was ahead, but he wasn't entirely sure how to reach the port at German-occupied Le Havre.
God I wish I had a map.
A loud whistle whipped his head around. There was no one around. The sound came again, and this time David looked up.
'We have caught up with you at last Lieutenant-colonel!'
Riding low on the breeze, a heavily-stained uniform clinging to his lithe frame, Georges Bergé laughed heartily as he flew down onto the grass. Behind him, shaking his head and grinning, Augustin Jordan waved and landed gracefully as well.
'Where the fucking HELL did you chaps come from?!' David wrapped himself in Augustin's coat as the vampire passed it over.
'We have been following you for some time my friend' said Bergé.
'We too were captured by the Germans and brought to Colditz' Augustin explained. 'You escaped shortly before we arrived.'
'Two days' Bergé looked sheepish.
'And it took you both this long to find me?' David choked, incredulously. 'I'll see to it you're dismissed from my regiment when we get back, for clear gross incompetence!'
'We couldn't make contact with you when you were so close to civilians!' Augustin protested. 'And besides..there was often nothing to eat where you were.'
'We did not want to harm your friends' Bergé added.
David grumbled to himself beneath his breath.
'...where to now? I have intelligence but it's months out of date.'
'Happily, the men are here! Or rather, they should be here by now.' Bergé gestured vaguely. 'There is a mass drop planned for the coast and the SAS were sent ahead to clear the route.'
David scowled furiously. 'My men are not Churchill's street sweepers!'
'Out of our hands' Augustin shrugged.
They found a quiet glade where they caught up while waiting for nightfall. When darkness finally fell, they walked cautiously back to the sign post and David transformed so that Bergé and Augustin could carry him more easily.
'Oof, you have packed on the weight!' Bergé hauled David's head into his lap.
'He has certainly grown up' Augustin rubbed David's belly. His wolf form had matured on the final long dash for the coast and he was now as big as he was ever going to get.
'Oh, we forgot to tell you!' Augustin and Bergé shared a mischievous grin. 'After you were captured, command of the SAS was given to Paddy Mayne.'
David's outraged screech was so loud they nearly dropped him.
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churro-lord · 6 months
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*lays on tummy and kicks up legs* tell me about them
This is when I wish I had access to Discord emotes, but regardless thank you for enabling me and my horrible ocs >:]
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Meet Sherri and Myntea! The main teal and goldblood characters in my batch of critters. Some context before I get into both of them individually: The story they're apart of is called Temporal Shuffle, and a running theme among their group is following in their ancestor's footsteps in one way or another, similar to the canon trolls symbolically paralleling their own. However here, it's more extreme. Like- think something along the lines of a session full of trolls who treat their ancestors as Eridan and Vriska did. It's a mess of children who don't know what the FUCK they're doing. Anyways, onto Sherri and Myntea themselves.
Sherri Asafer, Prospit dreamer, Mage of Life [She/They]- Assassin in training, though she has a disdain for it. She's only doing so to follow in her ancestor's footsteps who was a high ranking assassin herself, as they were hatched and raised to do so. In spite of this, Sherri has a prominent side gig online as an anonymous creator who promotes rather controversial ideas online [for alternia] and tries to spread positivity when she can [to mixed results], often getting away with a lot of it due to having connections. However, this has lead to her being subjected to physical danger on multiple occasions on the off chance someone is to figure out who she is. Still, this doesn't stop them as they have a strong belief that things can get better. Aside from that, their other main hobby is plush crafting.
Myntea Horrol, Derse dreamer, Knight of Heart [She/Her]- A psionic who once had rather impressive but destructive and hard to contain abilities, until an incident that greatly burnt out her abilities. She still can use them, however they are pretty weak and can cause strain if used too much. Very much so the edge to Sherri's fluff, Myntea is a reclusive and paranoid troll who works at a convenience store. Her ancestor was a warrior who fought in one of the rebellions against Condy, someone who Myntea admires and unfairly uses to compare herself to. Aside from that, Myntea has a fondness for science, and a curiosity that can make her quite nosy despite her better judgement.
Myn and Sherri met when Sherri had taken a particularly rough job as she ended up taking a beating before she finished the target off. Her body sore and her hive being too far away to walk all the way back without a rest, she decided to take her chances and rest up in a cave she had found hidden away by some boulders.
It was a lot larger than they expected, the entrance was so covered up it seemed like more of a crawlspace, except this cave was big enough to have a hive inside of it. With some consideration, they decided to risk the potential of the troll living there being hostile, eventually running into Myn.
I'm not gonna go into the whole thing here because I am tired and I honestly wasn't planning on typing this much, but hey! It is what it is and I'd love to talk about them more outside of this post. I will say as a fun fact! They are in my Pesterquest comic as side characters, so look out for them ^_^
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grey-rambles · 2 years
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heyyy
was wondering if you could write something with dream (or techno) based on 'peace' by taylor swift..
im a huggggeee swiftie and love your writing soooo,,,
(also preferably fluff pls, ik it's not exactly a fluff song but ahh)
oh ya pronouns- gender-neutral or female pronouns please
also also, if you have anons could I be 🐍 pls (for taylor-related reasons)
this is actually my very first time asking anything so im quite nervouss
Hi hi hi, my first request, I'm so excited!!!
Of course you can be 🐍, I don't have any anons at present, so you'll be the first!
Fic and rambling under the cut
Gonna be real with you, darling 🐍, I haven't listened to much tswift since around the release of 1989, but I really enjoyed this song!
My brain went a couple of different directions after a couple of listens. My big question was who is narrating the song? Is it the reader, or the love interest?
So I wrote one for both! A more literal take on the lyrics featuring a version of Manhunt!Dream, and a take that's a bit of a roleswap (famous!reader) with Techno, that I think is a little more true to Taylor's intentions when she wrote the song.
Both drabbles are about ~1k, so short for me! I hope you like them!
Both of these drabbles feature a gender neutral reader! Some mentions of violence in the Dream piece, no other TWs for Techno!
Dream
"I need you to hide me."
"Well, hello to you too, love," you say in reply, looking up from the dough you were working on, grinning at the form of your partner. Dream was seated on the windowsill of your kitchen, mask affixed to his face. His usual dark green cloak wrapped around him and his axe hanging at his hip, he cut quite the intimidating figure.
"Y/N, there's no time, you have to hide me! The hunters will be here any second!"
Smile dropping at the urgency in his tone, the two of you began a well-practiced routine, and soon enough, Dream was dropping into the hidden crawlspace beneath your home. You headed back to the kitchen, heart pounding, and resumed work on your baking, waiting for the inevitable knock on the door.
This was not the first time this had happened, and you were sure it wouldn't be the last. A notorious thief, Dream was often on the run from hunters hired by the king to bring him in for crimes against the crown– read: stealing from the nobles to help those in need.
The two of you had met in a situation very similar to today; Dream was being chased through the town by hunters, and you, on impulse, had reached out and tugged him along into your house, where you had proceeded to shove him into the crawlspace and hiss at him to be quiet. Ever since, he had come to you whenever he was in need of a place to hide.
After a couple of these close calls, Dream had started hanging around with you after the coast was clear, and the two of you grew closer. The first time you saw him without his mask was right before he leaned in and kissed you for the first time. And the rest was history.
You honestly lived a pretty quiet, monotonous life when Dream wasn't around. He was often away for long stretches at a time, but he always came back. Dream made a point to always spend at least one night at your house every time he stopped by, which was wonderful.
You were snapped out of your reverie by a sharp knock on the door. Wiping some flour onto your apron, and heading over to the door, you made sure to school your expression into one of shock when you opened the door to the King's Men on the other side.
"Gentlemen," you stated cooly, "to what do I owe the pleasure?"
One of the three men standing outside your door shoved roughly past you. "You know damn well why we're here. Where is he?!"
"I have no idea what you're talking about, but please, take a look around," you smiled with icy eyes, "You'll quickly find that I have nothing to hide."
The men made quick work of searching your small home, finding nothing, of course. You were far too good at this for them to even stand a chance. Filing back towards the exit, you watched them leave, hands on your hips. The hunter taking up the rear grabbed an apple out of your fruit bowl on his way past, making eye contact with you, as though daring you to say anything. Knowing better than to rise to the bait, you let it be.
After a couple of minutes, you knocked a pattern on the floor near the crawlspace, and returned to the kitchen to finish up your pastries. A moment later, Dream joined you. You smiled at the sight of his unmasked face, green eyes as bright as ever, freckles on display for you to trace like constellations with your eyes.
He came up behind you and wrapped himself around your body, arms winding around your waist, head buried in your hair.
You two stood in silence for a time while you worked, which was pretty unusual honestly. Dream was usually wanting to talk your ear off when he first arrived, overflowing with stories about his adventures.
"Everything okay, love?" you asked. He sighed in response.
After a moment, Dream spoke softly. "Sometimes I wonder how it's worth it for you, being with me."
Your hands stilled. "What do you mean?'
He sighed again. "Listen, baby. I love you. I'd give almost anything for you. But I can't quit my work, and that puts you in danger every day. If anyone finds out about our relationship, you'll be thrown in prison or worse. And I'm so rarely around in the first place! What if something happens while I'm away, and I can't do anything to stop it? Is this whole thing even worth doing if I can't keep you safe?"
"Of course it is!" You turned around in his arms, facing him, and raised a hand up to cup his cheek. He leaned in to the contact, turning slightly to press a kiss to your palm.
"Dream, I love you. That makes every second of this worth it to me." You smiled softly, leaning up to kiss him on the nose. He wrinkles the bridge of it in response. "Besides," you added, turning back to your baking, "my life was so boring without you around. I'll take this over a peaceful life any day."
Pulling you tighter against his body, Dream dragged you out of the kitchen towards the bedroom.
"Hey! Dream! My danishes…"
"They can wait," he said, still moving you along, "it's cuddle time now."
You just let it happen. Cuddles did sound nice…
The two of you spent the rest of the day curled up in bed, exchanging lazy kisses and dozing lightly in each other's arms. Numerous 'I love you's' were uttered into the space between your bodies, and you eventually fell asleep properly, safe in your love's arms.
After all was said and done, your danishes didn't get done until the next day. You couldn't find it in yourself to mind.
Technoblade
You let out a sigh as you came in the door, Techno right behind you. 
This was the third time so far this week that you two had been basically ambushed by paparazzi, and you were getting sick of it. Couldn't you have one nice date out with your boyfriend without being surrounded?
Techno moves past you where you stand in the entryway, heading for the kitchen, presumably to make himself a cup of tea. He wasn't the biggest fan of social situations or crowds, so you were sure he was feeling even worse than you were. 
Moving to check on him, you pause a moment in the doorway. He cut a fine figure, glasses slipping down his nose, sleeves rolled up to the elbow, hair falling loose in waves around his face. 
"You doing okay, Techno? That must have been stressful for you," you ask, moving to sit on one of the bar stools at the island in the center of the room. He smiles at you, but stress still lines the corners of his eyes. 
"'Course I'm alright, sweetheart. Why wouldn't I be?" 
"I know how much you hate crowds, Tech. You don't have to lie to spare my feelings." 
He sighs fondly. "Alright. It was a bit much, but nothing I couldn't handle. And we both made it back here safe, so all's well." 
He moves to pass you into the living room, pressing an absent kiss on your temple on the way past. You only open your mouth to speak once he's past you, unable to look him in the eyes for what's about to come out of your life.
"You could leave me, if you want. I wouldn't blame you."
His footsteps come to a stop. "Why on earth would I do that?" he asks. The footsteps approach you again, and you can feel his presence behind you. 
Refusing to turn and face him, you continue speaking to the countertop in front of you. "Tech… what happened out there today is gonna be the norm for me, probably for the rest of my life. And if it isn't being swarmed by paparazzi, then it'll be something else. Some drama, or crazy long work hours where I'm away from you, or some rumour of an affair I'm having. It's never going to stop, not ever. I love you with every fiber of my being, and I'll give you anything and everything I'm able to, but that doesn't change the facts."
You pause and take a shuddering, deep breath. "So long as you're with me, you will never know peace." 
It's silent for a moment. You close your eyes, bracing for whatever Techno is going to say next.
"I'm kind of offended you think that any of that matters to me, sweetheart."
Your eyes snap open, and you whirl around to face him as he continues on.
"I mean… I knew what I was getting into when you blew up. You're not getting rid of me that easy." 
You shake your head in disbelief.
"Did you not hear me, Tech? You'll never know a moment's rest if you stay with me! That's okay with you?"
He reaches out to rest a hand on your hip, drawing closer to your body where you're perched on the seat. 
"Sweetheart, so long as I get to be with you, nothing else matters."
You break in that moment, leaning your face against his chest as you cry. He wraps himself more securely around you, murmuring reassurances into your hair. 
After some time, you pull away, still sniffling lightly. "You're sure? You're sure that this existence is enough for you?" 
He smiles gently down at you. "How many times are you gonna make me say it?" 
"Maybe just once more." You return his smile shakily.
"I love you. Of course it's enough for me." He seals his promise with a gentle kiss to your lips.
You spend the rest of the night curled up in Techno's arms on the couch, just basking in each other's presence, before the next wave of insanity hits. 
Together, you think with a smile as you snuggle further into his hold, you could make it through anything so long as you're together.
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Note
3, 28, 30 writing questions
3. What work are you most proud of (regardless of kudos/hits)?
Already answered. But I am also proud of the tiara story in Uncommon Examples of Interpersonal Synchrony. I think it turned out really good and someone said they'd never read a story about the tiara from that point of view before, which I think is a feat considering it's a pretty iconic scene.
28. Favorite work you wrote this year?
That would also be Romantic Love and Other Treatments for Jamais Vu, the one I'm most proud of.
30. Biggest surprise while writing this year?
That I actually finished the Jamais Vu fic.
Also that I managed to participate in 2 fic events (The One with All the Fanfics for the Friends discord server and Fluff Crawlspace 2022) while in the midst of buying a house.
Thank you!
Send me a number for AO3 Wrapped!
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Star Selfshiptober - Mist
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Possible trigger warnings?: -Storms, Thunder, Tornado mentions -Stalking, typical Brahms-isms
Genre: Fluff
Context/Synopsis:   Madelyn has left the Heelshire mansion to Blake for the night, and a storm suddenly kicks up while she’s gone into town. Brahms notices Blake starting to get tense, recognizing his slight anxiety over the stormy weather.
  Hmm... Maybe a snuggle could fix this?
Characters featured: Blake - Autistic anxiety™ Brahms - Welcome today’s human teddy bear. Madelyn, Blake’s sister *Briefly mentioned*
   Blake stared out the window and into the darkened night. The new moon made it almost impossible to see, for only stars glowed in the sky. Not just that, but a deep mist had drifted in seemingly out of nowhere, reminding Blake of a horror movie as he gazed at the estate surrounding the luxurious manor. Somehow it was even worse as Blake heard the sound of rolling thunder, and a drizzle began to pitter-patter on the window.
   "Did you ever get scared living in the walls on nights like this?" Blake didn't even need to turn around by that point, knowing Brahms was in the room already.
   Usually, Blake didn't mind storms; he usually found thunder and rain somewhat comforting. The storms that shook trees as lightning arched across the sky were those that made him worry. The silhouettes of shuddering branches in the fog surrounding the Heelshire estate were all it took to set him on edge.
   He knew things going bad was extremely unlikely. Dangerous tornadoes were rare in the English countryside; he checked over and over before he and his sister had even taken the plane there. It was nerves, many years living in a dangerous tornado country and lacking a safe house in case of an emergency. It made him antsy about the wind, even if it was barely faster than usual.
   Brahms had noticed that during the first storm, only one month after his parents left. He was trembling all night, only sleeping for about an hour. The entire rest of the night, Blake had paced around the house like a hungry tiger, which was what woke Brahms up in the first place. Honestly, Brahms thought Blake would end up giving himself a heart attack.
   Brahms thought about it, but only one thing similar came to mind. "I would worry lightning would strike the roof."
   Blake glanced up at him, nodding with a little smile. Understandable. Immediately, though, he shot his gaze back to the window when he heard a louder roll of thunder. Blake shivered and stood up from his chair, immediately leaving the room. But he didn't go out the doorway.
   Instead, he went over to the closet and went into the walls. This wasn't new; Blake had found the crawlspaces between the walls a day before he met the 'real' Brahms. Since finding them, Blake made a habit of spending time inside them, simply enjoying how enclosed and, in his words, 'cozy' they felt.
   Brahms followed him, only for Blake to sit in one of the tighter areas. Brahms was too big to follow him and couldn't understand why he felt the need to go in there when he was nervous. After all, Blake had almost gotten stuck in there once, so Brahms thought it would deter him. It was frustrating, especially since it seemed to be a difficult thing to explain.
   Brahms could hear the thunder rolling again; it must've been loud if the sound made it in there.
   "Do you think it's silly?" Brahms looked back at Blake. "The fact I get so nervous about wind and all?"
   Brahms couldn't say he didn't. It was a bit silly, at least to him, but with how dangerous storms apparently were where Blake was from, he also couldn't say he didn't understand it. Brahms didn't quite know how to convey that entire stream of thought, though, so he shrugged.
   Blake hummed in response. There was a few moments of silence, with no sound but the thunder in the background.
   Brahms wanted him to come out. Not because Blake was in this little 'happy place' or because this 'fear' seemed absurd. It was because Brahms, in all honesty, wanted to snuggle. From what he'd seen, that seemed to help most of the time.
   Blake was far from what most would consider 'clingy'; in fact, he was averse to touch sometimes; Brahms, though, was intuitive enough to notice that Blake seemed far more relaxed after being... pretty much crushed. The weighted blanket he brought with him was enough evidence of that.
   "...Blake?" Brahms finally spoke, making Blake flinch as he expected another thunder roll. "Come out." There was another pause. “Please...?”
   Blake furrowed his brow with uncertainty but stood up and crawled out anyway. Brahms wrapped his arms around him, pulling Blake against his body with reckless abandon. Blake responded by wrapping his arms around Brahms' sides, burying his face in Brahms' chest as he hummed in wordless thanks.
   Brahms leaned back a bit, leaning his back against the outer wall, while Blake practically curled up against him. Blake sighed as all the tension in his muscles seemed to disappear. His mind fogged, much like the window had from the mist outside.
   It hadn't even been ten minutes before Brahms felt Blake's grip around him slip, only to look down and find him dead asleep. 
   Brahms only held him tighter when he realized this, smiling a little under his mask.
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platypus-quacks-too · 2 years
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Here midnight has passed, so - happy shamy anniversary!
I know it feels everything’s gone. It’s not. Just like Amy pops back in YS here and there, we do. Just like she’s actually always there as he told his story, so it’s my heart for those two lovely dorks.
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nerdforestgirl · 2 years
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Note: Oof. Today is 12 years since Amy Farrah Fowler was first introduced to the world. I miss her. I even cried when she showed up on Young Sheldon earlier this season. Anyway, because I have traditionally been known to make a big deal out of this day, I wrote a story about Shamy. I know this isn’t great because it took me stopping and starting like ten different things over the course of a week (I used to write one of these everyday???), but I can’t just let a “fluff crawlspace” go by without sharing something.
“Honey, Leonard, come back to Mommy,” Amy shouted after her son even though he wasn't anywhere near the water and only really about ten feet from her.  He was her little adventurer, and she didn't have any idea where that came from.  If he wasn't a near clone of Sheldon with her bright green eyes, she might have thought she got the wrong baby back from the hospital. He loved hiking and climbing and touching everything he could get his hands on.
Little Leonard was running on the beach with his best friend, Olivia Hofstadter, but he was getting farther away than Amy was comfortable with.
“They're fine,” Penny assured her and then went back to looking at her magazine. The kids were barely out of arms' reach and nowhere even near the water.
“How do you do that?” Amy asked.
“How do I do what?” Penny asked.
“Not worry about them every second of every day?” Amy clarified.  Since the moment she knew that little Leonard was growing inside of her, Amy had almost always had some part of her mind fully dedicated to worrying about him.
“Oh. I do, but I also want her to be independent. I wasn't much older than she is now when I was driving tractors on the farm,” Penny told her best friend. “I made a lot of mistakes, but they all led me to where I am now, so I want her to be able to make little mistakes too. Maybe less with boys than I did, but we'll cross that bridge when we get to it.”
Amy sighed. She didn't know how to let Leonard make mistakes on his own. Her own mother had hovered over her until the day she married Sheldon. Then Amy thought about it and realized that her mother was still hovering around, telling her how to best take care of Leonard. She had never been allowed to be independent.
Amy smiled when Leonard walked back to her and handed her the seashell he found on the beach with Olivia.
“It's beautiful, honey,” Amy assured him.  Then she grabbed him and kissed him all over his face and tummy while the boy let out a laughing scream. Amy realized that her own mother wasn't affectionate with her, and Amy had absolutely no problem with teaching herself how to show Leonard that she loved him everyday with kisses and hugs.  Maybe she could teach herself how to let him be his little adventurous self too.
“I want to get Leonard a bike,” Amy told Sheldon when she got home from the beach later that afternoon. She thought that maybe a bicycle for Leonard would help Amy let him have some independence like what Penny tried to provide Olivia. It was something small that Amy could handle.
Sheldon had bathed Leonard and put him down for a nap because for as much as Amy worried that she might be an overprotective parent, Sheldon was so much worse. Sheldon was the one with a million phone reminders to tell him when to reapply sunscreen and when it was snack time. Sheldon would be happy to control every minute of Leonard's young life. Amy had been lucky to take her son to the beach for an afternoon without Sheldon freaking out.
“No,” Sheldon said.
“He's almost three,” Amy argued.
“No,” Sheldon repeated.  “It's not safe.”
“It's plenty safe.  It's not like I'm talking about some dirt bike.  I'm talking about a toddler bike with training wheels and a good helmet,” Amy tried.
“You know how he is, Amy.  He would crash it into a brick wall just to see what would happen.  He's too curious.”
Amy didn't quite disagree with that.  Something about his intelligence combined with his tenacity meant that he would probably do a lot of stupid things with the bike.  Still, this was important to Amy.  She wanted to teach herself how to be okay with Leonard being Leonard.
“He'd only do it once,” Amy joked halfheartedly.  The problem was that she felt too similar to Sheldon to put up a real fight.
Still, Amy was at Target a few days later buying some stuff for the house, but mostly wandering around looking at stuff the way one tends to do at Target. She came across a little Spider-Man branded bike just like she discussed getting for Leonard.  It was just the right size for him and had a matching helmet and pad set right next to it.
“Sheldon won't be that mad at me for this,” Amy lied to herself as she lifted both the bike and the protective gear into her shopping cart. At least the Spider-Man branding would likely make this a little easier for Sheldon to swallow.
When Amy got home, she carried the little bike into the garage without taking it into the house.  She had lost most of her nerve on the drive home.  There was no real reason to start a fight with Sheldon just yet. Amy even thought that she would probably take the bike back to the store the next day without Sheldon even finding out about it. It wasn't like he spent all that much time in garage anyway.
Apparently, it didn't take more than a few seconds in the garage for Sheldon to notice the large, brightly colored box.
“Amy Farrah Fowler,” Sheldon shouted into the house after he went out to the garage to get some ice cream from the freezer out there.
Amy came running down the stairs. She was worried that something was wrong with little Leonard.  It almost felt like she was being scolded by a parent. Sheldon almost never used her full name anymore.
“I said no,” Sheldon told her calmly when she walked out into the garage. He wasn't particularly mad, and even if he was, he didn't often scream and yell to get his point across.
“I know, but it was so cute, and I did get all of the protective gear,” Amy pointed to the bag containing said protective gear.
“It is very cute,” Sheldon agreed. He knew that Spider-Man bike was probably chosen specifically to appeal to his fondness of the character. Amy had always known how to use some of Sheldon's interests to con him into things. It was one of the things he both absolutely loved and hated about her.
While Sheldon was holding the box up and looking at it, Leonard wandered out to the garage to find his parents. His Thomas the Tank Engine video had ended and nothing was set to play afterwards.
“Is that mine?” Leonard asked about the box his father was examining. He walked over to check it out. It was possibly the coolest thing he had ever seen in his life. He wanted to open the box and ride the bike all over the house.
Amy looked at Sheldon. He could easily lie and say that it was for someone else. Maybe Leonard would throw a little tantrum about how he wanted one, but he also believed everything his father said to him. This was Sheldon's out.
“Yes, but you can't play with it now. I have to call over Uncle Howard to help me put it together,” Sheldon explained to him. Sheldon didn't mess around with stuff for his child, so he often humbled himself enough to call Howard for help. Even on stuff like this when Amy didn't think that was remotely necessary.
“One time I rided on Olivia's bike,” Leonard told his parents proudly.
Sheldon glared at Amy.
“Hey, that had nothing to do with me. It must have been when Penny or Leonard were watching him,” Amy said with her hands up.
Leonard nodded that this was true.  Then he went over to inspect his new toy.  He couldn't wait to play with it. Riding Olivia's bike had been one of the greatest moments of his young life.  It had been utterly exhilarating to go that fast outside of his mommy and daddy's control.
“Coooool,” Leonard said, stretching out the word, when he saw the bag with the helmet and knee pads in it.  He pulled them out and put the helmet on his head.  It needed to be adjusted a little, but it would fit perfectly.  “I'm Spider-Man,” he added to his parents before running back inside.
Amy ran to follow him.  She didn't want him crashing into anything just because he had the helmet on.  She found her toddler jumping around between the couch and the coffee table like he was one of those parkour guys.
She would need to teach Leonard that just because he had on protective gear, it didn't mean that he could do reckless things. But first, she grabbed her phone to take several photos of her little adventurer. This was too cute not to share with her friends.
Sheldon sighed from beside her. He had followed her back in, and found almost exactly what he expected Leonard to be doing.
“Just promise you won't buy him a skateboard,” Sheldon said to Amy.
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fort-cozy-mcblanket · 2 years
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Happy Shamy Anniversary!
I hope no one minds me jumping in on this tradition, but I love Shamy so much. I had only just created this blog when it was happening last year and I had nothing prepared, so I wanted to make sure I didn’t miss it this time around. Please enjoy this small fic. :)
This is also available on FF.Net and AO3 with additional notes, if anyone prefers.
"'In order to describe the motion of an object, you must first be able to describe its position—where it is at any particular time. More precisely, you need to specify its position relative to a convenient reference frame. Earth is often used . . .'"
Amy felt her eyes grow heavy as she listened to Sheldon read from the textbook in his lap. She was stretched out on her back on the couch and he was sitting on the floor facing her, his head resting against the swell of her belly. This was their nightly routine ever since her 24th week of pregnancy. Amy didn't quite think the Introduction to Physics textbook was appropriate reading material for their developing child, but Sheldon insisted it was never too early and offered to alternate with Introductory Biology every other day, so she allowed it.
She knew Sheldon was aware that babies typically can't hear voices until around 27 weeks, but she also knew Sheldon did not think of their baby as typical. His frequent use of the phrase "the world's first pure-bred Homo Novus" was evidence of that. But that aside, Sheldon was an excellent father-to-be, so much so that their friends had taken notice too. He attended every doctor visit, massaged every ache, and managed to hold back his complaints when she developed a craving for Greek food. Amy wanted for nothing, and it was the first time she could remember Penny and Bernadette being visibly jealous of her relationship. It almost made her regret turning him down when he wanted to make a baby with her a few years prior. So if doing these readings early made Sheldon happy, she was willing to go along with it. Even if the baby couldn't actually hear yet, it was nice to just spend time together. Plus, seeing her husband willingly sit on the floor like this was its own novelty.
"Amy, wake up, you're missing some good stuff here."
"I don't need to learn introductory physics, Sheldon," she answered without opening her eyes. "I won the Nobel Prize in physics."
"But you're setting a bad example for our child, dozing off during a lesson," he said, which made her crack open one eye. He was still in the same position, his cheek pressed against her stomach, like he was attempting to nuzzle their unborn baby. Any retort she had died on her tongue at the sight. Instead, Amy reached out to him and caressed the side of his face briefly.
"Keep reading," she told him, "there's still a lot left of this chapter." Sheldon held her gaze for a few more seconds before complying.
"'Although displacement is described in terms of direction, distance is not. Distance is defined to be the magnitude or size of displacement . . .'"
It wasn't long before her eyelids were drooping again. The combination of pregnancy, a full work shift, and years of training herself to fall asleep to Sheldon's physics somniloquy was hard to fight. But before her husband could scold her again, someone else shocked her awake.
The baby kicked.
Sheldon sat up straight, the physics book forgotten. Wide blue eyes met wide green eyes.
"Was that-?"
"Yes."
"Has that happened before?"
"I don't think so."
Amy shifted up on the couch to sit up against the arm and Sheldon followed her movement. They both placed their hands on her stomach and held their breath, waiting to feel their baby move again.
"Try reading more," Amy said after several seconds passed. Sheldon was clearly reluctant to let go to pick up the book, but somehow managed to do it with one hand.
"'Displacement is an example of a vector quantity. Distance is an example of a scalar quantity. A vector is any quantity with-'"
His reading was interrupted by another kick.
"Fascinating," he remarked, his eyes now riveted to her stomach, watching the movements as well as feeling them. But Amy couldn't stop watching him, couldn't help but recall that extremely hazy memory from several years ago, when the two of them were on her couch and he said the same thing after their first kiss. How far they had come.
When the baby stilled again, Sheldon grinned back at her for a moment before leaning up and meeting her in a sweet kiss.
"Can you believe it?" she asked once they parted.
"I know," he said in the same amazed tone she used. "Our baby is going to be a physicist!"
Her smile faltered. For a moment she was tempted to snap back that perhaps their baby chose this moment to start kicking as a way to get him to stop talking about physics, not as a sign of approval, but now he was stroking her belly with such a tender look in his eyes, once again she couldn't bring herself to say it. Besides, she had felt a slight fluttering in her abdomen at work earlier when she was looking at some brain scan results. At the time she had dismissed it as slight digestive distress, but perhaps it was something more. Not that she would tell Sheldon that either.
Don't worry, Little One, she sent her thoughts inward. We'll support you no matter what field of study you choose. But maybe try to steer clear of geology.
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End Notes:
Excerpts taken from College Physics, which you can access for free at . A very big thanks to them as I have literally never had a physics textbook in my possession.
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The Tolerance Evaluation
Happy Fluff Crawlspace 2021! I was FINALLY able to write a fic for this special day. It’s actually one I’d started probably not long after the finale aired, but never went back to finish it. I always wanted a little more closure after Sheldon and Amy’s argument before their Nobel ceremony, so here it is. Enjoy, my friends. I love you all!
You can also read on FF here.
Sheldon's vision blurred as he watched the feathers on Amy's dress multiply. It had been an amazing but exhausting day. So many handshakes (much to his chagrin), interviews, photos, congratulations, and by the end of it all, so many hugs exchanged with their friends as they said goodnight, and Sheldon apologized for his behavior once more. After his speech earlier this evening, the gang had decided it was all water under the bridge anyway. It wasn't to Sheldon. He realized just how close he had come to losing all of them, and he was determined to appreciate his friends better from here on out.
And his wife.
If he was being honest, the biggest contributing factor to his exhaustion was this nagging fear that things still weren't right between him and Amy. Sure, she was fine during the ceremony, and every time their eyes met during all of the mingling and interviews, she'd given him a smile. But he wasn't convinced. They hadn't gotten a chance to talk alone since they were in their hotel room earlier when Amy had spoken words that had shaken him to his core.
He thought today would be perfect; finally winning the prize he'd sought after his whole life, with his brilliant wife standing proudly beside him sharing the victory. By all accounts, it was one of the best days of his life. But knowing there was a chance Amy might not be as happy in their marriage as he had believed left him rattled. He had to make this right.
They finally were able to return to their hotel room for the night. They were both so tired of talking that neither one said much on the way back.
Once the door was closed they began to change into their pajamas. Sheldon was quite ready to get out of his tuxedo, and he imagined Amy's feet were hurting from her fancy shoes.
They quietly went through their nighttime routines, Sheldon first, then Amy. He got in bed and waited for her to join him. Part of him just wanted to sleep and let this go until morning, but he didn't think he actually would sleep if he put it off.
Amy turned out the lights around the room except for the one by their bed and crawled into the covers. "Wow, we really did it," she said.
"We did," Sheldon agreed cautiously. "How are you feeling?"
"Tired, but I still have so much adrenaline. It might take me a little while to actually fall asleep."
"In that case, can we talk?"
Amy nodded.
"It's about what you said before the ceremony. When you told me sometimes you merely tolerate me."
"I'm sorry I said that. I was just frustrated."
"It scared me, Amy. Am I really that terrible to be around? I don't want to be that way. I don't want you to just tolerate me."
Amy shifted to face him better. "I wasn't trying to scare you, Sheldon. I just wanted you to open your eyes and see what you were doing to those around you."
Sheldon closed his eyes in frustration. "I honestly thought I had made progress with our friends over the past few years. You've helped me become a better friend, but obviously, I haven't mastered it yet. And I am sorry for the way I treated you, and everyone else."
Gently placing her hand on her husband's cheek, Amy said, "Look, you can be difficult to deal with sometimes, but our friends know this and still love you. And I love you, no matter what, remember? That will never diminish. You're the only one I would want to be with on this journey. You're the only one I wanted standing with me on that stage."
Sheldon reached out to wrap his arms around her, pulling her close, needing to feel her against him as relief swept through him. They were going to be ok. "Having you up there with me was the best part of the ceremony."
"And your speech was beautiful, by the way," Amy whispered, her head resting on his chest.
"Thank you. This night would never have even happened if it wasn't for you."
He could feel her smile into his pajamas as she said, "Part of me still doesn't believe it did happen. It hasn't fully registered yet."
"Neither has the fact that Leonard and Penny are having a child."
"I know! I'm so excited," Amy exclaimed. "Did Leonard really say that about their babies being smart and beautiful?"
Sheldon nodded. "He did, and then I added they would be imaginary."
"Sheldon!"
"Well, by all the information I had gathered, it didn't seem possible at the time. But I was…wrong, apparently."
Amy cast him a mischievous smile, as she fingered the hair at the base of his neck. "I was thinking…what if Leonard and Penny's child had a playmate to grow up with?"
"I suppose Halley and Michael will be suitable playmates eventually. Why are you asking this?"
Rolling her eyes, she replied, "I meant, what do you think about starting to try for our own baby?"
"Oh!"
"I mean, we just accomplished probably the biggest milestone of our careers. It seems like a good time, don't you think?"
Sheldon could see it all unfolding in his mind, a baby of their own, growing up with the baby of his best friends. He used to never think he would ever want this, but now it sounded like the most wonderful idea. He'd actually been ready to start their family for some time now but wanted to at least wait until the Nobel was behind them.
"If you're ready, Amy, then so am I."
They both leaned in for a kiss. Sheldon meant for it to be brief, but as soon as their lips met, his overwhelmed emotions took over. He wanted Amy to understand everything he was feeling in that moment, everything he had felt the entire day. His love for her had never been stronger.
They continued to deepen the kiss until Amy pulled back to blurt out, "Want to start now?"
Sheldon paused, trying to gather his thoughts.
Amy rushed on, "I, uh, don't know if you had anything on your schedule, if you're still making a schedule, but I want to be with you tonight if you'll have me."
"Amy, what kind of husband would I be if I didn't schedule celebratory lovemaking on the biggest night of our lives?"
Smiling, Amy leaned back in to kiss him once more. "I love you, Sheldon," she whispered against his mouth.
"I love you, Amy."
Nine months later, little Leonard Cooper arrived to upend their lives in the most wonderful way.
Biggest night of their lives, indeed.
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cutieshamybabies · 1 year
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I posted 6 times in 2022
1 post created (17%)
5 posts reblogged (83%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
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I tagged 6 of my posts in 2022
#sheldon cooper - 5 posts
#the big bang theory - 5 posts
#amy farrah fowler - 4 posts
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#birthday wishes - 1 post
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#fluff crawlspace - 1 post
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Longest Tag: 130 characters
#i love these tiny little tidbits when we learn a lot of information about sheldon's future with his kids and with our sweet vixen.
My Top Posts in 2022:
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Happy 12th Shamyversary, my dear friends <3 Here's my gift for the Fluff Crawlspace :)
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Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →
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