#Bullshit break up letter to 2023
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addicted2coke-theothercoke · 11 months ago
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Here's a title I guess
You ever get some pissed off and so annoyed at someone or something, and have zero skills coping with emotions cause you're a freaking idiot, so you just need to destroy something but you're in school so all you can destroy without getting in trouble is yourself, so you take a pen and start to grind the tip away on your arm until you've worn away skin, and then proceeded to hit yourself in the back of the head over and over again once you've left the class and are able to do something more noticable, recognizing that doing so also hurts your teeth so two for the price of one?
I have sponged up all my friends mental health problems lol
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formosusiniquis · 6 months ago
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have your cake
So way back in August 2023 the steddiemicrofic challenge was Cake and 311 words, my head empty brain came up with one thought and it was Steve Munson having a bakery called Mun's Buns and so many months later I finally got around to finishing my vision
Ships: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson; Tommy Hagan/Carol Perkins; implied/past Tommy Hagan/Steve Harrington/Carol Perkins WC: 6408 | T | tags: Future Fic, the lightest of post homoerotic friendship breakup angst, fluff, Tommy POV AO3
The bakery has a stupid name, is the first thing Tommy thinks when Carol tells him where he's supposed to meet her on his lunch break. He’s still thinking that, when he sees the place for the first time through his rain speckled windshield. It's a modest storefront, small for what Carol says is a booming business, tucked in next to a used bookstore and a music shop. There's a baby yellow awning hanging from the front just underneath a sign lettered in soft blue that reads Mun's Buns.
He's late, is the second thing he thinks after pulling up. Caught up in some stupid bullshit for his dad he hadn't managed to slip away until 12:30. Even then it had only been because Tommy had told him he was going to be late for their cake tasting. He'd rolled his eyes when his father and Greg, a guy that Tommy only considers a co-worker in the sense that they are technically on the same payroll since Greg in every other aspect is incompetent and an idiot, had winced. Shooing him away like a kid who'd just admitted that he's already twenty minutes past curfew. But catching sight of the way Carol has her arms crossed, tapping her foot fast enough to kickstart a motor, while her hair hangs limp in a way that it hadn’t this morning a third thought crosses his mind: maybe he should have been a little more worried.
Waiting isn’t going to make things any better. So he steps out of the car, let’s the misty damp cling to him in a way that makes his dress pants and button down feel like a poorly tailored second skin, and takes his licks like a man. "Late, thirty minutes late. Christ, it's the only thing I've asked from you Tommy." Her right hook stings just as badly as it did sophomore year when she punched him for asking out Erin Murphy instead of her.
Shit like that is probably why no one expected them to make it this long or this far.
When they went away to college; different schools, hours apart. His parents had been gleeful as they'd warned him that high school relationships didn't always last. That he should keep his options open, he didn't want to miss out on the love of his life just because of comfort. He didn't get offered the family ring when he decided to propose right after graduation. Carol has always been particular. Wanted the house to come back to before the wedding could happen, wanted a long honeymoon. That meant saving, a lot of it. Tommy knew and Carol did too, they'd overheard his mother and aunt gossiping in too loud voices after too much wine that they hoped the long engagement meant they were both trying to figure out a good way to break it off with one another. 
Still, over the course of their now five year engagement no one's asked once if they wanted to trade for it.
Carol thought it was horrendous anyway. She’d had her ring picked out since ‘85, styled her class ring so it would look like the oval cut diamond she wanted. Had him slide it on her finger the second it came in.
Cause in the politest of terms, Carol could be a raging bitch. She was Tommy's favorite person in the entire world.
There’s going to be a bruise on his shoulder tomorrow, even if she’s guiltily smoothing a hand down his arm now. Thrust toward the door first in offering, Carol is sorry she hit him but she’s not apologetic. “I’m serious, Tom, if we lose this appointment and have to go with Sweet Treats for our cake I'll- I'll-"
Whatever threat she was preparing is drowned out and then cut off by the echoing TONG of the door chime. A light in the back shifts color for a second, out of place enough that he wonders if he even really saw it. Head tilting toward Carol, his question catches in his throat when he notices her pinched off appraising. Better not to add to the ammunition she might already be building.
And if Carol is looking he better do it too. She'll want to debrief when they're having dinner tonight, just like they did with the florist, the caterer, the three wedding planners they'd met with, and each of the venues that they'd visited. And it wasnt because she was demanding, fuck you Greg. It wasn't because she was being nitpick-y, alright it was a little bit because she was but he liked being particular with her. He liked being involved in his wedding.
So he looked around.
The way they utilized their space -- a building that big and there's barely enough room to stand, we want someone who knows how to work with limited space for the venues we're looking at -- was the reason their first wedding planner hadn't gotten hired. Small, but not cramped. There are a handful of tables scattered in the open space in front of the counter. It’s the kind of small town cozy that Hawkins had tried for and he doesn’t see very often anymore now that they’ve moved out to Indianapolis.
It’s lunchtime, still too early for people to be seeking out the rows of deserts in their neat glass counter and too late for the breakfast crowd. But one of the tables is occupied by a teenager with long, black braids scribbling in a notebook while a slice of ice cream cake melts on a plate by her elbow. 
Everything was neat, organized, and compliant with health code regulations -- they hadn’t even made it in the door of the first caterer’s when she noticed a trail of ants and roaches marching into the open kitchen door.
Carol had always been quick when she was making up her mind about something. Like those Sherlock Holmes stories they’d had to read in school, in a couple of seconds she could spot everything she needed to make a decision. After a decade Tommy still couldn’t keep up; but he was always best at following someone else’s lead.
The smile she’s got frosted across her face is as sugary and fake as the roses on the cupcakes he can see behind the low topped counters as she approaches the only visible staff member. A girl, young in the way that nebulous way anyone younger than him was now, with thick squared glasses that magnified two distressingly blue eyes. The counters looked like they were designed to sit low enough that she could easily see over the top while in her wheelchair.
“Welcome to,” her customer service tone borders on bored. Two words into a clear script and she sighs, as if saying the name physically pains her, “Mun’s Buns. We’ve got a special series of summer flavors: Strawberry Lemonade, Lavender Mint, Chocolate Fudgsicle, and,” she sighs again, “for the grownups a boozy Blue Moon with orange zest.”
“How about a wedding cake.” He’s impressed. Carol made it through the speech without interrupting.
“Do you have an appointment?” the girl raises her voice, enough to make them both flinch back. Customer service isn’t a requirement for this part of the job necessarily, but Carol had bailed on two venues because the staff hadn’t been polite enough.
Her smile doesn’t crack though, “Yes.”
Even though he’s pretty sure this girl has to be basically blind with the inch thick frames, she levels Carol with a lethal stare. “Not you.”
From the open entryway behind her Tommy had been able to make out what sounded like the highlights of yesterday’s game. He assumed that space had to be the kitchen where these rows of deserts were made. He’s still surprised when a guy’s voice is shouting back, “I don't know, Max, do I? Why don't you check?”
“How am I supposed to do that?” Max shouts back, glowering at then in stand in for her mystery boss.
“With your finger, asshole. It's in braille. When I gave you this job you said you were actually gonna work.”
“Douchebag." Her eyes never leave them, while her hands rummage around in a space beneath the counter where the cash register sits. Max offers no explanation or apology for her shouting or for her boss. A large red appointment book gets slammed down on the nearest counter, making Carol jump but the neat two by twos of chocolate frosted cupcakes don't budge. He watches, a little fascinated by the way her finger scans the page before slowing. "Did you write this or did Dustin?"
Carol has always valued gossip over professionalism, he thinks that’s why she’s done so well as a hairdresser even though she was always awful at chemistry. It’s also why he’s held off from pointing out that they could solve this a lot faster if this guy would come out from the back. "Why?" 
“Cause one of you can't spell and one of you is trying to invent braille shorthand. So I'm not really sure what to do with TomGan Wed.”
“It might be Thomas and Wedding.” Carol leans over the appointment book as she says it, using a tone of voice he has never once heard her use in the entire time he’s known her. He thinks it’s supposed to be helpful.
“Wedding sampler.” The girl calls toward the back, “It's getting late.”
“I’ve got it,” the voice from the back shouts back.There’s an effortless assurance Tommy can hear from where he’s standing. It hits him with a wave of nostalgia so strong he grabs Carol’s arm on instinct.
“Really,” she says, cutting her gaze over to him. He’s not sure what she sees. “If we could hurry this along, it's just we've only got an hour.”
“You're late.” The glare she gets shuts Carol down faster than he’s ever seen.
“Right.”
“Okay I've got it.” The voice from the back is now the voice in the doorway. Hidden for a second by a serving tray loaded with samples of rich looking cake, it’s the first time since arriving that Tommy has actually wanted to be here. Not just because he can make out strong shoulders and a body of a man that’s still very fit but clearly enjoys his work too; the hint of love handles above strong thighs. Only then that tray dips, and for the first time since 1985 Tommy finds himself looking at the shocked hazel eyes of Steve Harrington. “Oh.”
Carol reacts for him, taking in a breath sharp enough she might puncture a lung. They’ll both wind up suffocated on the floor of this stupid bakery with an awful name, because Tommy can’t manage to breathe at all looking at Steve. Still unfairly handsome, faintly pink at the shock of seeing them too he imagined.
His hair is long, is the first real thought his half fried brain manages to put together. Soft looking even where it’s damp at the temples where sweat has pooled. He has it pulled back with a couple of the same butterfly clips that Carol likes to use.
His second, somehow more hysterical thought: this wasn’t how Steve Harrington was supposed to be included in his wedding.
Tommy was six years old and knew he wanted to marry Steve. When he’d told his mom -- to ask for her ring, Steve thought it was romantic like princes and princesses that they had a special ring that they got married with -- she’d grabbed by his arm so hard it’d left finger shaped bruises. So he’d held that certainty quiet in his heart until he was ten, and suddenly it was okay to want to play with girls on the playground -- he thinks it’s because Steve got tired of there never being an even number when they tried to play kickball, he had a way of making everyone want to do the thing he was. Carol wasn’t afraid to tell Tommy C. that he was dumb or to tell Mark L. that he hadn’t actually made it to the base, Steve liked her fast. Too fast, and Tommy had to tell her that one day he was going to be able to keep Steve all to himself. But he knew that it wasn’t right to say that now, even if he wasn’t all the way sure why it wasn’t. He was ten, but he would be eleven soon, and he took this part of him that he’d kept secret for so long and he whispered it to Carol under the slide while Steve tried to convince Brad P. that he could too pick two people for his kickball team first.
He was ten and Carol said they could share. Boys can’t marry boys, but girls can. So they could both marry her and live together forever.
It became a joke when they finally shared it with Steve, thirteen and boys going out with girls wasn’t funny the way it used to be. Sarah Jane asked Carol if she had a chance at going steady with Steve. She told Tommy about it later and they both told Steve that he was too good to date any of the girls in their grade. “Well I’ve got you guys,” his voice cracked when he said it, throwing an arm around both of them. Carol didn’t care as much, but even she’d noticed the way Steve was changing from boyish to handsome.
They were sixteen and disaster was just around the corner, not that he knew that. Steve dated around but he always came back to them. The head, the heart, the body. They don’t feel complete without each other -- at least Tommy doesn’t. Mr. Kripke, who was hungover more often than he wasn't, passed out ten minutes into study hall. Carol didn’t even wait to see if he’d wake back up before she left her assigned table for theirs. She smoothed out a lined piece of notebook paper for them, and Tommy scoffed like he was supposed to. “Aren’t we a little old to be playing MASH?”
“It’s dirty MASH, and I thought you’d think it was funny.”
“I think it’s funny,” Steve had said, “that you’re getting eiffel towered on your wedding night. Who else is joining in, Carrie?”
“We couldn’t agree on who got you for their side of the aisle. So we’re taking you to bed instead.”
He was sixteen and the way that the two of them looked when they shared a joke was the hottest thing in the world. The way their smiles mirror when they turned to him, sharp and ready to flay open the softest parts of him.
Tommy’s two days older when Steve lets him kiss the taste of Carol out of his mouth.
It was three days after he turned seventeen and he had to pretend he didn't want to die when he saw how Steve looked at Nancy Wheeler. Like he didn’t want to rip his hair out because Steve was fucking infatuated with this mousy little teacher’s pet and wouldn’t even look at him anymore.
He still doesn’t like to think about the breakup. He pokes it like a fresh bruise. Less often now, but when he does he digs his fingers in. Baits Carol into fights he doesn’t mean just so he can pretend like he hasn’t lost something that hurts like a limb.
Steve Harrington turns twenty-eight next week, and he’s standing in front of them both holding pieces of what might turn into their wedding cake.
“Wow I can’t believe you’re in Indy!” False excitement grates, but at least Carol has gotten herself together enough to speak. He thought he’d have at least another few months to prepare for the thought of seeing Steve, by their ten year reunion he was going to be married and happy and over it.
“Yeah, this is- Married, wow! I kinda can’t believe you haven’t already.” He says it to Carol, his platitudes had always been for Carol, but his eyes find Tommy. 
While Carol chatters at them and for them both, nervous, he knows she’s nervous. The situation is sudden and strange and fraught. But Tommy just looks at Steve, who looks at him. He’s getting married in three months, one week, and two days from now and for the first time in eleven years Steve is looking at him.
"Takes a while to save up for when you want the best of everything. Dad's still the skinflint he always was, I think he'd pay me less than minimum wage if he could get away with it."
And those soft brown eyes look so sad, looking at him. Sometimes he thinks no one will ever understand him the way that Steve did.
"There's nothing wrong with wanting the best, or having a long engagement." Carol defends. It's the same line she's been giving everyone. Defensive of him and herself and the choices they've been making. He can't believe Steve is someone she thinks they have to defend against.
“I really hope you're happy, man," he says, and the sincerity is a balm on the sting of this conversation. He pushes his hair back from his face, the way he always has when he's uncomfortable and trying not to make it obvious. And there's a fresh new hurt when Tommy catches sight of a plain gold band on Steve's finger, shining bright between the golden highlights of his hair.
“I’m happy about this,” he can say honestly. Carol is one of the only things he’s ever been sure about. She held him steady as she could when his other sure thing left him with a cracked foundation in a convenience store parking lot. “What about you? How long after meeting the future Mrs. Harrington did you wait to put a ring on her finger?”
“Tommy,” Carol chides as the teen in the corner snorts. To anyone else it would sound like a reprimand for being nosy, he, and he suspects Steve, knows she’s telling him to stop worrying a scab that has no hope of healing right.
Married and they didn’t know. Wouldn’t have found out until the reunion. It’s not like he expected an invitation, maybe an engagement announcement sent to their parents’ houses. They’d sent one to Loch Nora when the real ring had finally made it to Carrie’s finger. It was equal parts olive branch and offering. They’d gotten it back return to sender with no forwarding address.
The bell above the door tongs again, loud enough to make Carol jump. The platter of cakes doesn't shift at all in Steve’s hand. His arm shows no sign of fatigue. It’s almost distracting enough that he misses the obvious. The bell signals someone is coming into the store.
“Sorry, Sweetheart. I know I said I wasn't gonna be late but Mike…” There just inside the door is the Freak. Undeniable even with his head down as he digs through his shoulder bag. From the riot of poorly maintained tangles that still hang around his shoulders to the expanded mess of tacky ink on his arms. The only thing that’s changed is the age in his face and the band on his shirt.
“Munson?” Carol has the reflexes and the personal grace to address him first. Shock more than the disgust it might have been when they were still kids.
Tommy feels like a kid still. Looks to Steve in an instinct he’d thought he’d stamped out years ago, only to be met with wide eyes and teeth grit tight enough to draw out the square line of his jaw.
“Christ, I still get nightmares that start like this.” Munson says, eye darting between the three of them. “Max, am I naked?”
“Don't know, don't wanna know.”
“I thought you'd be able to tell by the energy in the room.” He wiggles his fingers, still bedecked in silver, like they can divine the vibrations or some witchy shit.
That’s enough to make Steve break just a little. A soft, exhaling scoff before he finally starts to move out from the counter. Tommy catches, and he doubts Carol misses it either, how Steve passes the closer tables to set his tray down between them and Munson.
“I can tell I don't want to be here for this.” Their redheaded audience member says, “I'm taking my 15.”
“Don't go harass Mike, he's finally working,” Munson says.
“Will and El are on shift on the other side,” Steve calls out, not looking at any of them as he moves cakes from his tray to the table. A deliberate selection he seems to be making.
“Whatever, I’m gonna call Lucas and break up with him so he can play better or whatever.”
“Don’t be too harsh,” Munson calls out, “I’ve only got him on a five point spread.”
If Carol’s nails break from how hard they’re digging into his arm, somehow it’ll be Tommy’s fault. Not the fact that they’ve advanced the worst part of their ten year reunion by months, and also Munson is here and knows shit about basketball.
“Sorry, think my hearing’s going, sounded like you said you want him to lose and he’s getting kicked from the next one shot. I’ll let him know.”
“She gets that from you,” Steve and Munson say in sync. Glaring playfully at one another the way Steve used to with Carol.
“I’ll tell Robin you were-”
“Do not sick Buckley on me, Max made the deaf joke not me.”
“Weird, that’s not what I heard.” Steve has always claimed his hair as his best feature. It isn’t -- Carrie liked his eyes, Tommy his hands -- but it’s hard to deny that it doesn’t look good, flipping over his shoulder. His smile is private, just for Munson, soft the way he got whenever he picked up a new girl. Carrie taps the back of his hand, two sharp smacks, their signal for years that he needed to pay attention and notice something she had. Wide, nervous eyes dart to Steve -- like he hadn’t already been looking at Steve -- so he does his best to assess the way Carol would.
Jealous, viciously, Steve had been theirs in every way that mattered since they were ten years old and Carol had never liked sharing her toys with anyone but them. She watched his face for any sign of unhappiness anytime a new girlfriend came along, and when she found one she passed it along to him. So he could pick and joke until Steve was all theirs again.
So he checked the face. Tried to ignore the way Steve was lit up from the inside out with a joy he could barely remember, and then he saw the hearing aid.
He tapped back, three times. O.M.G.
“The 1985 Homecoming court here to reveal that this has all been a long con, Stevie?”
“Yeah I faked the name change paperwork and picked up a fake ID, sorry I took my business somewhere else.” Steve says it with the sincerity he’s always made those kind of jokes with, his strange sense of humor never coming across when he always sounded so serious. 
Munson gets it though, snorts loud and ugly, before a smile pulls wide across half his face the otherside taught with a gnarly scar. “Now I know why my fake ID business went belly up when we got to the city, not like I only sold three in high school.”  He gestures to the three of them in a wide arc.
Sophomores, they had decided it was time to throw their first real party now that Steve’s parents had moved out of Hawkins in all but name. Steve was a latchkey kid of new proportions and took to self sufficiency in a way that had seemed adult to him then; and in hindsight looked more like a child fighting for his life. Steve bragged how he’d been saving up the weekly checks they’d sent to ‘sustain him’ while they worked in the city during the week. His contribution to Tommy and Carol’s vague plan to throw a kegger by the pool. When they’d floundered, immediately, with the hows, Steve had been the one to suggest going to Munson.
“Love this preview of the reunion,” Carol cuts in, there’s no bite but Munson bristles anyway like she’s being rude for reminding them that there are customers present. “Steve?”
It’s funny, Tommy thinks, the way Steve still straightens his back at Carol’s tone. All this time and he can’t fight the old ingrained instincts either.
“Dustin made the appointment,” Steve apologizes, even as he’s posture perfect and preparing his pastries. The unsaid, ‘I definitely wouldn’t have’ doesn’t go unheard and it doesn’t sting any less even this far from their last interaction.
“Munson could join us,” Tommy offers, a new olive branch since their last one was never seen. Even if it does raise three sets of brows and makes Carrie’s nervous smile tighten even more in the corner of her mouth.
“Well at least one of us has to,” Munson, Eddie, says. Just says, tone like it was meant to be something said under his breath.
He's grown up a lot since high school, they both have. Still, he's only got twenty minutes left on his lunch break and it's been a long day. "God, is that why it's called that?" Growth, he doesn't say that Steve Munson sounds a lot dumber than Steve Harrington.
"It's charming," Carol and Steve both say. Though Carrie is definitely lying and Steve barely gets it out from between his gritted teeth, a sore spot. He's always been good at finding Steve's bruises.
"It's charming," Tommy agrees, like he always did when he was out voted.
Eddie has a smirk spread across his face and a ‘too proud of himself’ look in his eyes. Mouth open to make some quip that Tommy is going to pretend is funny, for Steve’s sake. Now that they’re here, he’s going to do something to show that they could talk to one another again. Steve clicks his tongue, taps his index and middle finger down to his thumb two quick times before he can.
He turns to the girl in the corner, "Erica, scram, go help Robin and the kids with the new donation that just came in."
The teen continues to scribble in the notebook in front of her, bulky headphones over her ears, she makes no sign that Tommy can see that she's heard Steve speak. "Erica, go, or I'll tell your mother you moved out of the dorms. You're 20, it's not child labor, and you've got a timecard."
She sighs and wordlessly packs up her things, she gives Steve a scathing look that takes Tommy back to high school. The withering eyebrow and rolled eyes would have been just at home on Steve’s own face in 1985, but she marches behind the counter, the sound of her dish rattling in the sink before she disappears out the same door that the redhead had gone out.
Now that the room has been cleared, an awkward silence has found the space to squeeze in. Munson, the original, still standing in the doorway and Steve standing between his unlawfully wedded husband and the two people who had lost their chance at him years ago.
The wedding and the reunion both on the horizon had dredged up a nostalgia that Tommy and Carol had been dealing with in their own ways. Dredging up old yearbooks, Carol had found a shoebox of old notes that she’d kept. Conversations written in three different inks by three different hands, nonsensical after all this time. Tommy woke up from dreams that he hadn’t had in years. Always of Steve and Carol, a study in opposites, but similar where it mattered.
“Well,” Steve says, taking charge of the situation like he always would when the other two faltered, “you’re here for a reason. We might as well get started on it.”
Steve’s fingerprints are still on them, just like he’d noticed theirs on him, molded as they were together. They’ve always bowed to his expectations, and his whims. When he ushers them to the table with a spread hand, Tommy and Carol go where they’re beckoned.
And so does Munson.
They keep an empty chair between them, an artificial divide for Tommy’s sanity, but with the sprawl of Munson’s legs their knees still occasionally brush together. Carol had taken the spot closest to Steve, who has stayed standing. He is their gracious host, marking the head of the round table.
“I pulled out the full sampler before I realized it was you,” Steve says. Even with as off balance as the interaction has felt, Tommy doesn’t feel his hackles raising. While it’s possible he’s gotten more subtle with his digs, Steve’s vicious tongue was usually unmistakable. “I can tell you about as many of them as you want though if you want to pretend like we don’t already know what I’ll be making you. I’m sure neither of you have eaten lunch yet.”
“You are going to take us on?” Carol asks. Shock always gives her tone an extra edge, defensive and catty, even if she’s really just waiting to see if another shoe will drop.
“Obviously,” Steve says, placing a faintly orange square of cake in front of her. He slaps Eddie’s hand away from another piece without looking away from either of them. “That’s as far as I’ll be going in participation though.”
He doesn’t miss the way Steve’s mouth twitches up with the joke, a filthy smirk that leaves Tommy flushing hot. Too warm to not be a bright and obvious red at the acknowledgment of that old private in-joke.
It doesn’t get better when Carol moans, “Oh my god, Steve!” Even if it is about the cake.
He laughs, and Tommy suspects the two are actually trying to kill him. He chances a glance over at Munson who looks like he doesn’t care at all that his husband has made Tommy’s fiance moan. He is watching Tommy though, an inquisitive look like the one Carol gets when she happens to catch a nature documentary.
“Yeah,” Steve agrees with Carol, “I’ll do something small with that citrus cake for you and Tom so you’ve got something you’ll actually eat on your wedding, maybe a pineapple buttercream on top like that nasty Juicy Fruit gum you like so much.”
“I mean it’s really crazy how you’re so good at this when you’ve never had any taste,” Carol compliments, she never did learn how to be nice.
He could probably count Steve’s teeth in the answering smile. Tommy can feel it like an ache in his chest how much he missed this. He snatches another cube of cake off the tray just so has something else to focus on.
“That’s the fancy one for the people who hate their guests,” Munson says as the cake has settled on the flat of Tommy’s tongue.
“It’s lavender,” Steve corrects, and the floral flavor is lodged in the back of his throat at least gives him a reason now to feel so choked up. “And it is for a particular sort of bride.”
“Are you saying I’m not fancy and particular, Munson?” Carol asks. 
She’s obviously talking to Eddie Munson, who lifts his hands up in answer. But it’s Steve who says, “If you tried to feed that to Gail she would leave the reception bitching the whole time.”
“Well go on,” Tommy finds himself goading now that he’s swallowed, “finish calling your shot, Stevie. You said you knew what we were walking out of here with.”
Carol reaches across the table, locking eyes with Eddie as she snags the piece closest to him. The one his fingers had been inching toward like he thought Steve wouldn’t notice him trying to take it.
“I’ll make a small citrus cake for you, Carrie, we’ll hide it in the back of the larger cake so you can get the pictures of you cutting it and smashing into each other's faces-”
“We will not be doing that,” she interrupts, the warning for him and also unnecessary. He already knows how she feels about being embarrassed in public.
“Then the big cake for your guests will be a chocolate cake, I can cover it in a buttercream or a fondant icing also chocolate, because it’s the only kind of cake the Hagan family will eat. Even though I’m sure John hasn’t given you a dime for the wedding, he’ll complain until Hannah gets married if he doesn’t like the cake.”
“Really,” Steve continues, “the only thing up in the air is how many people you were able to get away with not inviting, Care.”
The two of them start talking actual wedding logistics, and as Tommy grabs another bite of cake -- this one looks like it might be a normal flavor -- he figures the real show of good faith would be talking to the only other person at the table while he eats what Steve correctly dubbed his lunch.
“Y’know he never actually answered me,” he says in an undertone.
Munson seems surprised at being spoken to, only widens his eyes in response to Tommy’s unasked question.
“I asked Steve how soon after the first date he proposed, he never actually answered.”
Eddie softens at the edges before he can even say anything. Steve had a way of doing that, bringing out the romantic in a person. He loved with a passion that demanded it be matched. “Technically I proposed to him, but he says it doesn’t count because we weren’t together and I was high on morphine after a major surgery and thought he was Apollo, come to whisk me away.” The smile on Munson’s face looks dopey and drugged up now, like the very memory of whatever hospital stay is so ingrained in his mind he can feel the high now.
“But,” he goes on, “he told me we were getting married whether it was legal or not about three months after he got legally married to another woman.”
“Stop,” Steve has always been able to sense when he’s about to be the butt of the joke. He has a finger pointed at Eddie like a teacher delivering a lecture. “You can’t tell people that. It was for tax reasons, I’m not cheating on my wife.”
“You say tomato, I say whichever one of us is your least favorite has to be the extramarital affair.”
“I say, you’re the most obnoxious person I’ve ever met.” Tommy can hear the warm affection behind the insult, the way their picking is a safer way to express their passion for one another.
He thought he would be jealous of whoever finally managed to reel in Steve Harrington for good, and he is. The emotion is there, present in the snarling tangle of emotions that this encounter has left in him. One that he and Carol will have to slowly tease and pick out tonight when they’re home in bed. Trying to make sense of what each thread is and what it means for them. But the one bright pulsing thread he can make sense of is happiness. He’s happy for Steve, happy that he gets to see an old friend so at ease and obviously cared for.
And he’s sad that his time is up, his lunch hour so close to an end he’ll be late getting back to the office. Something he can already hear his Dad and fucking Greg giving him shit for. Which means they have to end their time here.
Steve walks them to the door, flips the sign to mark them closed for lunch.
“Congratulations again, you two,” he says, “I really am happy I can get to be a part of this with you all. Even if it’s a little different than we used to imagine.”
Carol reaches out for the both of them, puts her hand on his arm. Tommy finds that he’s the one who actually says, “We’re glad you found someone who makes you this happy, dude. You deserve it.”
“Yeah, he’s alright most of the time.” It's said with such fondness it becomes a declaration. It’s hard to imagine how they thought they could ever be the something that could make Steve this happy. But maybe in a different life, under different circumstances it could have been.
There’s a minute where they all stand in the doorway. He wonders if they’re all afraid that this might be the last time they see each other, speak to one another, until Steve is delivering the cake on the day of the wedding. Maybe it’s just him, he was the one who pushed back the hardest after things ended.
Someone finally gives in and pushes the door open. It’s TONG a death toll for their current conversation. But it also sends a jolt through Steve, he straightens to his full height like a shock has gone through him. “Here,” he says, “here, um.” He digs around in his apron until he finds a pen and a receipt pad. Jots down something before tearing it off and putting it in Tommy’s hands, “It's our home number, in case you have any cake emergencies or something.”
They really can’t stay any longer.
Carol takes the note, better at keeping track of these things than Tommy is. It’s hard to know if they’ll actually use it, maybe after they talk about it, but if they do she’ll be the one to do it. She’s always been braver than him.
There’s no way of guaranteeing anything but the fact that they’ll have a cake on the table on their wedding day. But he hopes that Steve might stay for the ceremony once he brings it, he can even bring Eddie if that’s what gets him there. 
Alone in his car, Tommy lets himself take a minute to think about Steve Harrington one last time. He isn’t going to get what he wanted as a kid. Doubts that he’ll ever be as close to Steve as he’d been in childhood, too much time has passed and too much has changed.
But there’s an opportunity to get to know Steve Munson, and he isn't going to pass it up. Even if he doesn’t know how to name a bakery.
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leclsrc · 2 years ago
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happy 2023 bestieee <3 could i get some charles angst please? i love hurting <3
overly sincere – cl16
It should be easy to break a habit, but this one isn’t.
auds here... crunching the last of these reqs bahshha, title from this. edited a bit for clarity x <3
Charles always knocks on a door before he enters a room. It’s not weird, but it sometimes is.
It happens with the new intern, who stutters out a did you just knock on the fridge? And then immediately apologizes for the lack of professonalism. He politely waves him off, says it’s okay, but again he doesn’t answer the question. He just retrieves the bottle of water inside and exits the kitchen, rubbing a hand over his face, the same hand he used to knock on the fridge.
Then he knocks on the bathroom door that’s half-open, and now it’s Yuki asking, teasingly, beside Pierre. “It’s open,” he jokes, “no need to knock.” And Charles laughs, shakes his head as if to say I’m just out of it, and ducks into the toilet. He misses the way Pierre’s gaze lingers on him, dark with concern. But hears the hushed conversation from where he’s splashing his face with tap water. When he exits, there’s no more mention of the knock. 
He knocks again on the oven door before he shoves a tray inside. Isa’s head cocks to the side, inquisitively almost, but she smiles tight-lipped. He thinks she’s answered her own question in her head. She leans on Carlos’ shoulder, and Charles watches them, alone, as the room fills with the smell of bread. He knocks again before he takes the foccacia out.
It’s rare, he thinks, it’s rare and strange and amazing to have picked up a habit so difficult to stop. He’s got many—the sign of the cross, the click of his tongue, the cigarette every time he drinks something with bourbon in it. But this habit will never die, and he fears it’s because he’s not trying to kill it, because killing it means losing the only fragment of you he has left.
You just knocked on the car door, he’d said incredulously then when you climbed in beside him.
You looked up, met his eyes. What about?
He scoffed. You don’t knock on car doors.
You laughed, oh, I knock on every door.
Every door? Every door.
He hummed. Why?
You shrugged. I dunno. If there are any spirits inside, they know I’m there. 
That’s bullshit.
I’m superstitious, so everything is bullshit to me.
He’d teased you then, thought of how obscure it must’ve been, how tiring it could’ve been to explain why you knocked on every single door. But now he does it, too, not only because he’d adopted your behavior then, but also because the sound of knuckle hitting surface reminds him so much of you. Of your pretty smile, your laugh, the letters you left him on bluish early mornings. 
He will knock on the fridge because it reminds him of the way you did, the sing-songy way your fist hit the metal before you swung it open to retrieve breakfast or a beer. It reminds him of mornings, nights in your kitchen, where he was finally himself, a chef in his own right. It reminds him of your favorite brand of milk, the way it was never dairy but instead always oat or almond. 
He knocks on the bathroom door because of how often you did it, and how it became somewhat of an alarm clock to him. The sound of your hand meeting the wood woke him in the morning, and alerted him to bedtime at night. And he’d follow you inside, kissing your face, laughing if your eyes met in the mirror while brushing your teeth, fucking you in the shower.
The oven is knocked on because you’d made up a silly story about how the monsters in your flat lived not under the bed, but inside the massive oven. He remembers all your silly inside jokes that he’s now had to unlearn, to find unfunny, to stop referencing because really, nobody else gets it. They just laugh out of pity. So still he knocks, remembers your stories, remembers the kisses when the bread burned.
Charles realizes he’s made up of so many people he’s met, but you especially. Each knock sends another aching memory to his brain: knocking on your first flat, on the cage of your first dog together, on his parents’ house to make a big announcement. You’d become such a big part of him that now, he’s the fool who knocks on the oven. Now, he’s the guy who knocks on the fridge and open doors and cars and anything he needs to swing open. 
So when his date, the pretty blond girl who’s friends with Lando, asks amusedly, “Why are you knocking on the fridge?” He finds himself mute, unable to form a proper answer for her. He just shrugs, mutters something in French so she can switch the topic to his fluency in it, and like that, the situation is defused.
And he should be angry that he’s such a fool, but he doesn’t think he could be.
He knocks on his own bedroom door, his own sanctuary, his own safe space, like it’s a stranger’s room housing a stranger’s bed. But this time, he knocks not because of you, or your stories, or your kisses, no, not those. In fact, it’s for the same reason you knocked in the first place. So if there were any spirits, they’d know he was there. But he’s not wary of the dead. Charles has befriended grief, and has known that, in the same way the dead are never really gone, the living can become ghosts, too. Figments, imprints of the past, like dust on the wall or whiffs of perfume. So when he burrows into his sheets that still smell of you, he thinks the knocking is useless.
Because, like every figment appearing to a human, Charles finds he can still feel, hear, smell you, so pointedly he can almost touch you, there in the corner of the room where you placed the engagement ring back in his hand and left his life behind quietly.
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powderblueblood · 9 months ago
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YES! NO! OKAY! I DUNNO!
ronnie and eddie volunteer at the hawkins high carnival to start their senior year off wrong right. wc: 2.4k warnings: eh, none. swearing. era-typical misogyny and shit. ronnie ecker gay as hell. was this inspired by the opening scene of bottoms (2023)? maybe! mind your business! requested by the lovely @joejoequinnquinn
“The thing is, man, when Ms. Kelley calls, you answer.” Ronnie shrugs through a mouthful of kettle corn and Eddie can almost hear the like Ghostbusters! She doesn’t even need to say it. 
“Kelley did not call you, first of all–”
“--well, no, we met at the market. Which is way more intimate, if you think about it. Romantic.”
“Second of all, this is a total fucking betrayal of your anti-school spirit ethos.” Eddie, with his wound cloud of cotton candy stuck in a cone, gesticulates wildly. Dude’s even scaring away the flies that might dare land on it. "What, you’re all pep squad now because you gotta nosebone some teachers into giving you scholarship recommendation letters? Volunteering for the fucking carnival?” His hands go up, a makeshift bandleader for the jaunty circus soundtrack that twinkles through the humid September air. “What’s next, the Young Republicans?” 
Ronnie’s whole face crushes in disgust. As per usual, she’s overestimated his perception in these matters. Dumbdumb is totally missing the point. 
“Edweiner,” she says, adjusting the strap of her overalls, “What I think you’re failing to essentially recognize here is the fact that–look around!--there are girls here.”
Damn fuckin’ skippy. Cheerleaders, nerd girls, regular girls, artsy girls, band girls, chess club girls, girls all wearing marginally hipper clothing than they usually would. Because the Hawkins High school carnival is prime hunting ground for hookups. 
Not that Ronnie's looking for any such thing, but it doesn't hurt to see how the other half live.
“Yyyyeah, girls that have spent the last four years ignoring u–” 
Okay, ixnay. Ronnie cuts Eddie off right at the knees, shoving a full palm into his face.
“Mmmm, glass half full me for a hot sec,” y’know, god knows what brought this optimism on for Ronnie. Maybe her job directing lowly freshmen toward the gaming booths, maybe it’s the kettle corn that kind of tastes like carpet, but she’s rolling with it, “These are girls that are still in fuck-it-it’s-summer mode. Girls that are entering their senior year of high school. Girls, okay, girls who may have finally realized that the social hierarchies of Hawkins are total bullshit and want to start off their year with a bang.”
She and Eddie stop in their tracks, identical brown eyes staring each other down. 
“A finger bang,” Ronnie encourages.
Eddie blinks, slow and spacey, like a cow.
“Fruuuhm you.”
Again, with Eddie’s shaking of the fucking cotton candy. There’s a wasp trapped in there right now. “Are you fucking high right now? Are you insane?”
“Technically, yes!” Ronnie can smoke and bike, it’s fine. “Hereditarily, jury’s still out!” Eddie sorta cringes at that one, and she smirks. “See, I can make those jokes, because of the loopy mom of it all. You can’t make those jokes.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s fine.” Cue disheartened shrug. ”But. Y’know. We can leave.” 
Her metalhead comrade grimaces, Reeboks kicking through the grass as a bunch of freshmen scatter in his path. 
Ronnie sighs real big. “We can leave… if you’re too chicken to stay.”
Pump the fuckin’ breaks. Ronnie keeps walking a few paces, intentionally leaving Eddie in her dust.
“Ronald James.”
And then she pivots. All that’s missing is Ennio Morricone playing from the heavens. Or the PA, whatever.
“Edward… ward.”
Eddie squints, his heavy brown knitting furiously. “You just call me a chicken?”
And Ronnie shrugs, cool as crushed ice. “If it walks and it buh-kawks.”
Scoff. Scoff. Scoff. Eddie’s whole torso is wracking with scoffs, he’s like a courtesan dying of consumption with scoffs, he’s about to keel over with scoffs, he quite simply can’t believe–
“Quit hawkin’ up hairballs and square up, pardner!” Ronnie yells. 
Enough with the theatrics! It’s like clicking in a seatbelt, the way their competitive nature with each other activates. Just add chicken and they are off, Eddie flinging his cotton candy to the wayside, the sticky mess hitting a nearby kid. The two of them jostle through the carnival, tracking on up to the sad-looking shooting gallery that’s being manned by one of their greasier classmates that neither of them recognise. Eddie, that big-handed buffoon, beats Ronnie to the punch of slamming down his fluorescent green tickets. 
“Hi! I’d like to shoot to kill, please,” he booms. 
The kid just stares at him, shifting to the left. “‘kay. Whatever. It’s three turns.”
Ronnie rolls her eyes as Eddie slams the pellet rifle into his shoulder– she’s seen his hand-eye coordination, alright? It sucks dick, the dude can barely walk in a straight line. It’s a miracle he can play guitar at all! 
Ptew! The first of the little tin duckies barely makes it away with its life, narrowly avoiding a blow to the head from Munson. Ptew! Second one, not so lucky. 
Eddie, roving around with the rifle for his final victim, yells to Ronnie. “Looks like havin’ a dad with a rap sheet pays off, Ron!”
Ptew! Third and final. Eddie’s face peels back into that terrifier of a grin that’s like, okay, calm down, Bozo the Clown.
“Pfff… beginner’s luck,” Ronnie tuts.  
“Like you’ve ever even held a gun before,” Eddie says and pivots back to the kid manning the booth, who’s passing him his prize. “Hold on, nonono, gimme that bear. The like, the zebra print one. With the fuck me eyes.”
The volunteer carnie doesn’t budge. “You only hit two. The bears are if you hit three. You win green Papa Smurf if you get two.” 
And gingerly, Eddie accepts the little off-brand Smurf. Where do they get this shit? Does it fall off the back of the same truck that carries Bev’s off-brand liquor at The Hideout or what?
Whatever, Ronnie grabs the rifle from him and settles it against her shoulder. She can already hear Eddie tutting like, there’s no way and don’t embarrass yourself, Ron, but the thing is–ptew!--you don’t get to be as good of a drummer as Ronnie Ecker–ptew!--without learning a little precision. 
Ptew!
“What?” she shrugs to an open-mouthed Munson as the pimply kid passes her a big ol’ overstuffed bear, with the fuck me eyes painted on and all (weird feature. Ronnie might regret having this in her bedroom later on), “Like it’s hard?”
Eddie huffs, because that’s a boy that hates to be shown up even if he spends so much of his loser ass time being shown up. But, it’s usually not by Ronnie, so! 
They keep movin’ through the fair, like that old folk song goes, two heat seeking missiles looking to outdo each other. Ring toss? Piss. Cornhole? Are you fucking kidding me? Balloon darts– okay, so they maybe blew their wad a little early by going straight to the gun range but there’s gotta be something… 
Then, Ronnie spots it, because it’s all flailing and water and choking and drama and shit. 
Dunk tank.
She yanks Eddie over by the collar. 
Whoever the poor sucker was that they’d been dunking made an extremely dramatic exit. Ronnie overhears something about, ‘What do you mean, you never asked him if he could swim!’ squawked from the irate mouth of one Nancy Wheeler. Because of course she’s involved in cruise directing this, somehow. Like, where does she get the time? How does she have even a minute gap in her schedule for this? How can someone look so pretty when she’s stressed? 
Then, next thing Ronnie knows, ol’ Blue Eyes Wheeler is walking towards them. Orbs of azure all ringed apologetic and Ronnie’s rooted to the ground, she can’t move, she can’t think– 
–and naturally, Nancy’s looking at Eddie.
“I would usually never, never ask this…”
“He’ll do it.” She says it without hesitation, without thinking, without considering Eddie, like, at all. 
Which naturally makes him bark, “I’ll do what?!”
“Be the dunkee. Be the dunked man,” Ronnie hisses, eyes flicking from a confused Nancy to an enraged Eddie. 
“Oh god, would you? Please?” Nancy asks, almost begging– and look, the girl knows how to turn on the charm. She might not be Eddie’s type, not in eight million bajillion lightyears, but it’s near impossible to say no to her. “You can swim, right?”
“And it’s just about time for his yearly bath! So! Heh!” Ronnie gasps a little too loud for her own good, earning a gravitational pull back from Nancy and Eddie. No? No giggles for that one? Fine.
Eddie just shakes his head, sour expression immovable because he knows there’s no saying no to this– it’s for charity. A dumb charity he doesn’t care about, sure, but it’s for charity and also a girl is asking him and also he is determined to not look chicken. Ronnie knows this. It’s why she keeps winning.
“Yeah, Wheeler, I’ve been known to doggy– hold this,” and Eddie pushes green Papa Smurf into Ronnie’s chest, peeling off his jacket on the ascent to the dunk tank. 
Nancy lingers by Ronnie a second, resting her forehead against her clipboard. 
“Oh, thank god. We might actually make our donation target–like, everybody’s gonna want to drown him.”
A beat. Nancy raises her permed head, glances toward Ronnie.
“Did I say that out loud?”
“You did.”
“Sorry.”
“Eh, I get it.”
Nancy flutters on by, muttering something like a thanks and a good luck and an I really hope he can swim. 
Now, to his credit, Eddie makes for a pretty great picture of defiance as he straddles the plank, still fully dressed in his Hellfire shirt (Ronnie’d call nerd, if she wasn’t also wearing hers) and his shredded up jeans. Then it occurs to her that he may not have completely disrobed because he’s not wearing underwear. And that’s disgusting. Moving on.
Ronnie lets him have it, for a while anyway. Nancy was onto something– an alarmingly hefty line of would-be dunkers start to gather, everyone from cheerleaders to underclassmen trying to prove something. Not to side with the idea of gender conformity or whatever, but the couple of cheerleaders that step up to the mark don’t quite throw hard enough to hit. The sophomore that follows them is thrown off his game immediately when Eddie pretend-lunges at him, devil horns at the ready. 
Gareth, their newest freshman recruit and Ronnie’s personal drum mentee, sidles up beside the tank to hype up his fearless (pffft) leader. 
“Doin’ pretty good up there, Eddie!”
Loud enough for Ronnie to hear, Eddie hollers, “Piece of fuckin’ cake, freshman…” 
“Gareth…” he mumbles.
“...I’m gonna be bone dry ‘til the end of this shift.”
Well, y’know, so like, he asked for it. 
Ronnie tosses their hard won stuffies to the side and elbows a couple of basketball players out of the way. Cue watch it, freak!, yadda yadda, who cares, give her the ball!
“That’s what the last girl who hooked up with you said, right?” Ronnie bats to Eddie, stretching her arms above her head like a pitcher. 
If she’s not mistaken, he’s relieved to see that she’s cut the basketball boys (who’ve got much more experience tossing balls than she does) out of the way. 
“Ecker, I’ve seen you in gym class! You throw like an amputee! Bring it!”
Again, he asked. So Ronnie goes ahead and winds up. 
Eddie, in all of his your ass should have learned by now have you not been watching do you not see the signs ego, turns to Gareth. 
“See, Ronnie doesn’t seem like much of a girl but she does throw like o–”
Boom! And the metalheads goes down into the murky depths, not unlike Gareth’s DnD character that Eddie so mercilessly merked at the last Hellfire session. Ronnie doesn’t hold back a cackle, seeing Eddie resurfacing like a drowned river rat and spluttering. 
“Ffflfpfpfl! Fluke! That was a flu–” he jabs a finger through the mesh to something behind Ronnie’s head, “Wheeler, that was a fluke throw!” 
“Is he floating? Oh, good.” Oh. Nancy’s back. Nancy’s back and she’s watching Ronnie. Oh. Oh that’s… Ronnie makes the grave error of glancing over her shoulder to see Nancy grinning, clipboard bound to her chest. “She’s got two more to prove it, Eddie.” 
“Just take the–” Eddie struggles to make it back to the plank, sodden clothes and all that shit, “Just take the ball because she’s not gonna get–”
Bullseye! See, that’s how you don’t choke in front of a pretty girl and all the rest of your classmates, dude, you just wind it up and get it done! Ronnie’s buzzing with a touch more adrenaline now, and it’s going straight to her mouth. 
“Come again, water boy?!”
“Water boy?” Eddie babbles once he floats upward again, struggling under the weight of, I don’t know, his waterlogged hair to straddle first position.
“‘Cuz you’re wet.”
“Not your best. Not your b–”
Not even a full sentence out and Ronnie’s put him back under again. Hello. Why has she never tried out for softball. Would that be too obvious. This is kind of making her wacky, a little.
“What was that, Munson? Whawassat?” Ronnie stomps as the poor bastard tending to this wretched machine helps a soggy Eddie back onto dry land. “Couldn’t hear you over the sound of women’s rights! Can I hear it for women’s rights?! … Ladies?” 
Zero response. Crickets. Nancy Wheeler’s even disappeared. 
Scooping up their stuffed creatures, Ronnie’s shoulders sag– and she narrowly gets out of the way of Eddie, who’s racing towards her, helicoptering his soaked hair. 
“Don’t be– don’t be shaking your Lassie locks at me like some damn dog! Jesus Christ… my sweater.”
“My apologies to the Gap by way of the Salvation Army,” Eddie sneers, draping a towel over his head as he struggles to put his shoes on. 
“One more?” Because Ronnie’s nothing if not sympathetic, alright? Dude’s drenched. She'll let him win this one.
Squelching, Eddie nods. And just like that, to their left, shining like a beacon with a trail of suckers lined up outside…
“One more… to prove we’re not…” …staffed by a multitude of cute-as-a-button beauties…
“We’re not chicken…” …glowing with the radiant halos of fuck it, it’s summer, fuck it, it’s my senior year…
The Kissing Booth. 
Ronnie and Eddie each wear a thousand yard stare. 
Eddie, for reasons pertaining to freakdom and Ronnie, also that, but jacked up to a degree of potential social pariah. God, could you imagine? Could you imagine if she had the nerve to go completely fuck it, completely hetero-nuclear and march on up there with her dollars in quarters dug out of the couch and be like, Yeah, Tina Burton. Lay one on me. Oh, you’re switching shifts? Oh, that’s okay, I can wait… And who is that? Nancy Wheeler? Well, hell! Isn’t it just my gay lucky day!
Because Ronnie can imagine. Is imagining. 
“But I'm… I’m kinda cold.” In truth, Eddie’s kinda turning blue. That September chill is starting to set in, finally… so it’s back to the parking lot they go. 
“And I’m kinda hungry. You shouldn’t kiss people when you’re hungry, right?”
“No, that’s how they discovered cannibalism.”
“Right. So let’s–”
“--Big Boy Burger?”
“For the big boys, yep.”
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christmassavestheyear · 8 months ago
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⋆⋅welcome⋅⋆ call me ellis. he/him pronouns. trans, pansexual. fanboy. chronically online, i write fanfics and poetry. i stand with palestine. ambiverted infp-t. type six. sagittarius. gmt +9:30. founding fuck. just a jolly little fella tryna get by. i run @onedirectionandblank, the @bemyvalentinechallenge, and @thecornerwehaunt - please check them out.
autumnleavesforwinter -> holes-in-my-false-confidence -> timecanalwayshealyou -> roundagaininanemotionalblender -> theblackdog-taylorsversion -> fandomestloser
⋆⋅links⋅⋆ my ao3 my spotify discord: loneolecowboy - dms welcome.
fandom list, fic masterpost, requests, asks, tags beneath the cut
⋆⋅fandoms⋅⋆
one direction/solo - this is my main fandom. i rb all sorts, i discuss music, and i write fanfics. my main 1d fic atm is on hiatus. will be a few months before i return to it.
hamilton - this is my other main fandom. i rb my mutuals fics, and the occasional fanart. i discuss the songs and write fanfics. my main wip atm, watch the sun rise, is being updated as regularly as i can make work!
5sos - side fandom. i dont fic around here, but i *do* talk about their music a little bit (and calum. because like. calum.)
marauders - side fandom. i write fanfics (predominantly wolfstar) - all linked below.
rwrb - side fandom. i write fanfics, again, linked below.
heartstopper - side fandom. currently only wip fanfics, but hoping to get some out soon! mostly tara&darcy.
nevermoor - side fandom. currently only wips - mostly morrigan&cadence or hawthorne&___ fics atm.
noah kahan - side fandom. i discuss music and cry a lot. like a lot lot. was at melb. n1 of the stick season tour<3 (acoustic set!! view between villages!! passenger!! help me!!!!!) (seriously please leave asks/reach out, i love talking about noah.)
others:
ed sheeran
hozier
olivia rodrigo
conan gray
billie eilish + finneas
sabrina carpenter
doctor who
taylor swift
⋆⋅complete works⋅⋆
1d:
underneath the mistletoe - larry stylinson christmas au
tear away my tattoos - larry stylinson break-up au
just for a moment - larry stylinson break-up au
grey hairs - larry stylinson old age au
greatest fear - larry stylinson 1D reunion au
hold on - larry stylinson mental health au
orange juice - larry stylinson break-up au
gone - zayn's death au
they're singing deck the halls - larry stylinson advent calendar fic
challenge collections (including wolfstar, firstprince, 1d, hamilton)
whumptober 2023 - masterpost.
whumpcember 2023
whumpuary 2024 - masterpost
⋆⋅ongoing works⋅⋆
1d:
caffeine factor - ziam mayne coffee shop au - on hiatus.
letters from my bedroom floor - poetry compilation
hamilton:
watch the sun rise - fic post
⋆⋅coming soon⋅⋆
forever - fic post coming soon
2011 - fic post coming soon
painkillers series - series + fic posts coming soon
⋆⋅requests⋅⋆
i take fanfiction requests for almost any tropes and pairings, in the fandoms listed above. no explicit sexual content, no non-con underage, no a/b/o dynamics, and no y/n fics requests. one shots will most likely be written and posted within two months, depending on my personal schedule, and the complexity of the request.
⋆⋅tags⋅⋆
#mutuals - my lovely mooties #ask answered - asks #ellis is at it again - me completely bullshitting my way through life/being a complete dumbass. #ellis is angry again - me ranting/getting political
⋆⋅asks⋅⋆
ask whatever. be respectful. or dont. i dont really care.
⋆⋅mutuals⋅⋆
my lovely mutuals; @jittyjames 💙 @enchantedlandcoffee @keeganisabluegreener 💕 @felizusnavidad @surrowndedbylights💡 @fansykiltentragedry @queerhoodie @elledino @loveheartslouis @larrysballetslippers @braverytattoos @littleohs @hellolovers13 @parmahamlarrie @l0veproof @cc-horan28 🥔 @ravenclawdirectioner @mynightsoutofsight @weeping-in-the-willows 🍭 @skeelly @fandomgirl1999 @idontwanttobeabuzzkill @allll-these-ruins 🔞 @evilteapot 🫖 @lighter-like-a-feather 💋 @like-the-stars-i-shine @youareinlovetv @faintedlcve @abodyhasbeenfound 🌌 @anniesmusingsoneverything @starduckys 🦆 @lonelydncers @berryzxx @runwiththerain @foaming-sea @bodybetters @a-beautiful-fool 🦋 @half-eaten-baguetteee @fresasconsal @alltheliars 🔪 @i-must-confess-i-am-an-idiot 🍁 @kurtcobainsgreencardigan 🩷 @octoberconstellation @stars-over-ice-cream @rep-meow-tay-tion 🌻 @justlikeyou
(i am at some point going to assign you all like. emojis or tags or something. it is just 1:18am and im delirious so not right now.) (also this is absolutely everyone i follow who follows me back. i would like to get closer to a lot of these people, as i dont talk much to most of them. i also am always up for meeting new mutuals but im socially awkward so you gotta reach out lmao.)
⋆⋅thank you⋅⋆
this post is regularly updated for challenges/works/links, etc.
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ericleo108 · 1 year ago
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CosmicLuve.com July 2023 - The Main Thing
Necessary prerequisite posts:
108 The Story of Discovering Earth’s Consciousness (book)
Sentientism 2022
Cosmic Love Feb 2020 - Emma Watson
Cosmic Love April 2022: Cary Charlotte or Mary
Cosmic Luve July 2022 - Smoke Blunts Response Treatise
Cosmic Luve Aug 2022 - Coast
Cosmic Luve Sept 2022 - Hope
Cosmic Luve Oct 2022 - Folklore
Cosmic Luve April 2023 - Sun
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Into
This is a pivotal post and touches on all relevant cosmic luves (as in persons, as well as ties in many posts). This post builds off the story developed in “Sept 2022 Hope” and especially “April 2023 Sun.” You won’t understand the theory or meaning of this post unless you read the Sentientism post and other log entries to see that these coincidences are common occurrences and how I interpret them. The fundamental understanding of all this comes from my book “108 The Story of Discovering Earth’s Consciousness.” 
The intent of this cosmic luve log is to explain what I see as Gaia/Earth communicating. The basic theory is that the Earth and stars are conscious due to their magnetism. They have abilities like “telepathic randonauting” and “points of realization” to try and communicate which can affect things like evolution subtly but consistently. I show how Gaia could be manipulating our behaviors by influencing our cognition throughout the cosmic luve blog.
Where we left off… 
When we left off I talked about the semantics of the sun in lil’dicky’s show, how I’m searching for Marcus Lemonis, and couldn’t afford help from Ryini. Well, I said screw it and signed up for Ryini even though it takes my whole music budget for the month. It’s been a couple months and I have found the investment worth it. 
We have a personalized meeting a couple of times a month with a group chat twice per week. This has helped me focus on marketing like making vertical music videos. With their help, we have been breaking them down into segments and running ads through Instagram to get followers and plays on Spotify. They have done things that are invaluable like turning me onto Spotify’s Discovery marketing feature that gets me thousands of plays per month now. I feel like it been worth it and they’re here to help and gonna keep working until I see a good amount of success or at least get my money back. I’m practicing a 7 track set to perform online and at local venues. Hopefully, I’ll have plenty to point to by next cosmic luve entry. 
Marcus and Dave
I stopped looking for Marcus Lemonis because I don’t think he wants to be found. It’s obvious to me he has to know I exist and is just ignoring my request for a meeting. I forgot to mention in the last cosmic luve post that my song called “Process, People, Product” which is taken from his quotes about business from Marcus drops on November 16th 2023. 
It’s worth explaining and furthering the semantics in Dave’s yellow dress. I should of mentioned this in the last post “Sun” but it didn’t come to me until right after I published it. The semantic trope goes as follows and furthers the story of the sun’s communication. Our sun is exemplified as a male. Dave in his yellow dress (exemplifying the sun) came out the same time as my song “Bong hits for Jesus.” Jesus is gods son and based off the myth of the sun (click here for more) as I show in my Atheist Raps blog post. “Bong Hits” is about smoking weed. In Dave’s song about smoking weed “Too High” he talks and makes jokes about the sun (having a dick). This also is a callback to the first Emma Watson post where she is pointing to a letter E in yellow. 
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Looking back
I have a confession to make. Gaia has taught me that when one door closes another one opens. In February I made a tweet along the line of “When they say when one door closes another one opens is bullshit, I quit my job months ago and haven’t found anything.” I quit my job in August 2022 and said that in February 2023. Come to find out that I got my first big royalty check in August 2022 and hadn’t been informed yet and didn’t find out until March 2023. When it was May I have now received my second $1500 royalty check in 6 months. The second royalty check came just after I decided not to go to Marcus’s event. Even with the royalty payment I didn’t really have enough to go because it was $500 plus hotel and airfare. I used the money to pay off my credit card which is full of music production and promotion expenses. 
It seems that financial security is coming slowly, but coming, I just need to focus on building momentum and doing the work. It’s just frustrating cuz I can’t afford anything else and forgo a lot to make all this music happen and I haven’t had real relief for years. The truth is I’m still struggling and have not even come close to breaking even with what I’ve invested, but it’s a start. I am currently desperate for more royalties or financial help.
Looking forward I want 100 tracks by December 2024. If you want to know about coming projects while hearing what I have to say about Big oil, global warming, and blue watch the July 16th 2023 sunday update.
Coincidences
The first cosmic luve occurrence I’ve had since last time was small but was with Taylor Swift. “Karma” is a song that was on The Chalice Mixtape in 2017, I’ve also had it remade and it drops October 6th, 2023. There was a small but unmistakable coincidence in Taylor’s “Karma” video. In my song “cosmic love brownies” that I uploaded months ago and comes out December 13, the lyric is “I got a Saturn in watching over you, cause you’re a supernova girl.” Here is the tweet I made about it. But this lyric reminded me of Taylor standing with Ice Spice lassoing the moon and Saturn in her “Karma” music video.
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Then I had a small occurrence with Hailee Steinfeld when my song “We Make The Party” dropped. I talk about it in my “We Make The Party” blog post but basically, I didn’t realize I would be releasing the song so close to the official start of summer. It has the lyrics “Nothing feels good as her in the summer, we make it hot like global warming.” On the 22nd Hailee posted her magazine feature in The Laterals as their “summer girl.” Unfortunately, I didn’t get a screenshot so you’ll have to look it up. This reminded me of Hailee’s newest song “Sunkissin” which feels like a ‘call-back’ from the sun where Hailee sings “Come and catch a wave, Fade away like it rains in the summertime (In the summertime).”
Although I just published a song called “Vulnerable” responding to a Selena Gomez song by the same name I haven’t seen any coincidences. It's worth mentioning I have thought to myself on many occasions that these women are like the sirens of Greek mythology. Selena reminds me of the ocean and therefore has the strongest association with this feeling and semantics.
Other coincidences since last time include that Cornell West announced his run for President with the Green Party days after I dropped “Philosophy 101” which is based on his Masterclass. And Russ met Dr.Dre right before “Freaky naughty” dropped which is musically inspired by Dr. Dre. I feel like this is Gaia building off my July 2022 Smoke Blunts post.
Emma Watson
Finally, The reflections I got from Emma are so stark and can be interpreted so profoundly that it seems like Emma follows me and is doing it on purpose. But I maintain it’s just Gaia using her as a vessel to reflect my life and work because Gaia and the sun think Emma and I should be together for compatibility and acumen reasons. The truth is for Emma to be reflecting me on purpose she would have to know intimate details of my life which makes me believe it’s much more likely she is being manipulated by some unexplainable phenomenon that I am desperately trying to explain. 
You can follow the tweet thread but basically, I’ve been responding to Emma’s Instagram stories through Twitter. I’m just gonna leave the tweets linked which have pictures of Emma’s IG posts. It started June 1st when Emma semantically reflected my poem in the Cosmic Luve Sun April 2023 post (click here for the tweet). It’s worth mentioning that I love otters, they’re probably my favorite marine animal, and I used to do horse videos on my Facebook page. It seems to have a cohesive message of “I’m loving you without possession” but Emma would have to know I love otters and did my horse videos.
I stopped doing the word of the day rhyme on July 3rd was the last day. Then on July 11th I retweeted about Global Warming emissions and how I no longer was going to create an album to berate the oil industry. On June 11th, the original June 29th post that I made due to the smoke blanketing Michigan from Canadian wildfires that are happening due to global warming, came full circle. This is because that’s when I found out the EPA could cut 90% of emissions. 
The next day Emma posted a cosmic luve response of the “Elementals” movie. I wrote her a poem and said Emma was the “main thing” because she had a picture on her story that also said, “Keep the main thing, the main thing.” Emma has been the whole purpose of my music as Eric Leo 108 since the beginning in 2017 (when I dropped the Chalice Mixtape) and before (Click here to see the tweet). It’s worth noting that my best-performing track in the week she posted this became “Hey Emma.” Keeping with the “Elementals” theme the hook to “Hey Emma” exclaims that Emma can “make it hot, being oh so cool.”  
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I just want to mention that also during this time I put out a call out for a videographer saying I need help and I just wanna say I wish Emma was my videographer. In keeping with the notion Emma would have to know my personal life otherwise, it’s Gaia… about a week or two prior to the Elemental post, I went kayaking for the first time and got drunk on the river in Michigan with some friends. I loved it and have been asking them to do it again ever since. Maybe Gaia and the sun are telling Emma and I that we should go Kayaking for our first date if we ever get there. 
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shuublebunny · 2 years ago
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I WOULD JUST LIKE TO PREFACE THIS BY SAYING THAT THIS IS PURELY FOR NOSTALGIA PURPOSES. I DO NOT SUPPORT A LOT OF THE SHIT THAT JESSON HAVE DECIDED TO DO WITH THEIR CHARACTERS AND STORIES BECAUSE I LOOK BACK ON THEM AND I GO “WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK THESE WERE ADULT HUMANS WITH FULLY DEVELOPED FRONTAL CORTEXES AND THEY THOUGHT THIS WAS A GOOD IDEA TO POST ON THE INTERNET?”
Childhood blinded me to how problematic some people can be.
It is the year 2023 and I am writing headcanons for a problematic ship in an old ass minecraft roleplay series
So
✨Aarmau HCs✨
Ok so to start out, I wanna address the UNCOMFY age gap. I think it should have been mitigated by making them about a year apart. “But Bunny, how do we handle the whole debacle of her not knowing Aaron is FC?” We drag it out in true slow-burn fashion. They meet when Aphmau is a freshman and Aaron is a sophomore (no more icky freshman-senior relationship because that is FRIGHTENING). So for 3 years they go about their lives kinda hating each other, but also kind of morphs into a “you’re not that bad, I just hate your stupid face (in an affectionate, platonic way (kind of)) and will tease you relentlessly because we’re both assholes” thing. Aph learns Aaron is FC yada yada yada BUT she’s in her JUNIOR YEAR by then.
Now the nature of their relationship. They’re not horrible with each other, but they’re definitely not super close or kind either. They have their gripes with each other and absolutely CANNOT stand each other at times. So when they find out that they have, in fact, been best friends online for the past several years, they both have a complete internal meltdown and panic. They’re idiots. They have no idea how to handle the situation. They’re awkward for like, a few months, but gradually build back their friendship, keeping a teensy bit of the snark they gave each other when they were “rivals” for the funny. But now that snarky, obnoxious behavior is ACTUALLY just a joke and they’re super close. Think of it like sibling banter.
Aph ends up developing a crush on him, but he can’t reciprocate her feelings(yes he can, he’s just scared bc he’s going off to college). Sylvanna still hATES him bc she thinks he’s trying to get with her daughter, but they just go to prom as friends. No kissing that night, nothing, just hanging out, being dumb, and ugly crying and hugging when Aphmau realizes he’s actually going away to college, and now that she only just realized her best friend was with her in person after 3 years, he’s being ripped away from her after only just getting to be his friend irl. They’re both distraught. They are ugly cryers.
They get reunited in college like they do in the og series, and that’s when Aaron realizes “oh fuck, I DO feel the same way, actually,” but doesn’t act on it because he thinks Aphmau has moved on by now. I’m not going to touch the bullshit that happened with Ein and Kai but for the sake of me being lazy and not having the energy to remove them from the story entirely, we’ll just say that all their bullshit happened Aphmau’s senior year and Aaron had to deal with them on breaks when he came back from college. None of this whole “you didn’t keep in touch with me for 3 years and now we’re reunited in college” bs. He cares about her enough as a friend to keep in touch, and finds sneaky ways to do so. He’ll send letters via snail mail after curfew and Agent R totally doesn’t notice (he’s cool like that; i will absolutely write more hcs on how Agent R is like Aaron’s adoptive dad). He’ll also use pay phones (loose change so it isn’t as traceable) around the campus/city to talk to her in real time So he absolutely knows that Aphmau is going to Falcon Claw University. Hell, he was the person she ranted to the most and panicked to over college applications. So when she got accepted to FCU she flips and calls Aaron to tell him before she even shows the letter to her mom (yet another reason why Sylvanna hates him lmao).
In college, they have a HEAVY slow-burn relationship development. They’re still not dating by the time they both graduate, but they’re also both kind of aware of the fact that they both like each other? They’re weird. Both of them are scared of fucking up their friendship. They eventually start dating around the time MyStreet takes place but uhh
This version is a lot less problematic
They catch feels for each other as ADULTS
AND THE AGE GAP IS NOT BORDERLINE PEDOPHELIA
BADA BING BADA BOOM
JESSICA I FIXED YOUR BIGGEST THING IN PHOENIX DROP HIGH
I need to write headcanons more, this was highly cathartic.
(Slight edit made because it was pointed out that I said something pretty tone-deaf that just didn’t make sense, so I fixed it).
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credulouscanidae · 11 months ago
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had a breakdown yesterday
because i am just so over this countrys fucking healthcare and i just want my goddamn medication that i was happily on for 5 years
make any progress here feels like pulling teeth
after all this bullshit of what documents i need, after providing everything, i was told before christmas i needed my gender dysphoria diagnosis in order to get an appointment w the endo cuz he refused to give me an appt
i finally track the diagnosis down, send it to their office.
dont hear back for weeks, send a follow up email asking if they received it and sent it again
dont hear back, assume its just cuz of christmas etc
ring them yesterday asking for an update and the endo had apparently sent a letter to my gp on the 28th dec STILL refusing me an appointment because now apparently the diagnosis isnt even good enough.
had i not rang up, i wouldnt have even known that decision. im so fucking sick of these places flying over patient's heads making decisions without telling them. and thats apparently a very common problem with the nhs.
its something something the endo only has the dysphoria diagnosis and not all the other medical history that i gave to my gp. so now i have to wait till thursday to see my gp, and evren is helping me collect all the info so we can just...essentially, resend my case from scratch
the denying of the appointment is what broke me. i have never, EVER, experienced this until moving here. even evren says its a bit weird that he doesnt just book me in and ask to send all the info beforehand. its probably the high demand and lack of available appointments id imagine.
i just. im so tired of fighting this. every single attempt i make at getting closer to my hrt, i get kicked back 3 steps. i got my hopes up for weeks, thinking, YES, this diagnosis is the last bit of evidence they need, i can finally get seen to, only to be essentially told it's not good enough and that i cant be seen to.
i am 7 months overdue. i havent had a shot since march 2023. i have been trying to get this sorted since april. all year i have been told no no no. this is the last attempt before we say screw it and go private. but even then, the endo who is refusing my appt is like, the only private/public endo within an hours drive (i'll be willing to go further ofc), and apparently id have to go through the whole psych evaluation all over again. and theres still a waiting list, albeit smaller than the nhs one.
i am desperate. i have always understood obviously, but in these moments i can fully empathise why some trans people give up and end their lives over this.
5 years of being on t, made me forget the desperation i felt pre-t, and how agonising it felt. now? it's like that times a thousand. now that i am caught in this mess, and how much it makes me break down into hysterical sobbing....
im not surprised i dont want to be perceived, feel like a shell of my former self, dont want to engage with the world, on top of all the other reasons. i dont feel real.
fuck thsi healthcare system i swear
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elliewiltarwyn · 1 year ago
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FFXIV Write 2023 | Prompt #13: Check
pray check the waking sands, warrior of light
-1121 words
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Elilgeim hesitates, her hand hovering before the door. She then thinks better of it… and simply pushes it open, then pokes her head in through the gap, to take stock of things as they stand.
Well… It appears Thancred was right about at least one thing—’tis difficult to even catch a glimpse, behind the piles of parchment and papers.
Somewhere beyond those stacks, she hears furious, soft but sharp scribbling, and she spies the top of a feather dancing behind a particularly garish letter she could swear is written in gold dust. The Syndicate, no doubt. There is no indication that the wielder of the quill has noticed her solar has been breached; Elilgeim tries to shove aside the intrusive thoughts observing how easy it would be for someone with ill intent to sneak up on her… So, as quietly as she can, she raises her closed fist to her neck and clears her throat.
The scribbles slow—but do not end, and Elilgeim hears a deep, exhausted sigh. Ah, shoot—“It’s me, Minfilia.”
Now the quill stops, and the face of the Antecedent leans around the pile with wide eyes and lips parted in shock. “O-oh!” Minfilia shakes her head rapidly and practically throws the quill to the side of her desk. “E-Elilgeim! I- I didn’t hear you—” She’s far more rattled than Elilgeim was expecting her to be; she straightens up and brushes her bangs out of her eyes, adjusts one of her hairpins to better keep the strands back, and suddenly seems very interested in straightening out and unruffling her sleeves. “My apologies! I- I am not—”
“It’s okay,” Elilgeim chuckles, pushing the door ajar some more with her shoulder and stepping in properly. “Really, take a deep breath. I have no important business, Thancred just asked me if I could check in on you.”
“Thancred? Oh…” Minfilia winces and her posture sags, laying against the back of her high chair. With her not actively attempting to project a strong, forceful image, she looks… small, back against the chair like this. It makes Elilgeim’s heart pang. “I was not actually aware he had returned from his scouting.”
“Pardon my bluntness, but… you don’t seem to be in a state to be aware of much.”
The Antecedent of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn blinks extremely slowly like an owl, then lets her head fall to the side, flush against her shoulder, as she exhales. “I cannot argue with that.”
“When was the last time you stood up from this desk and took a break?” Elilgeim asks, rubbing her teeth together in concern as she walks closer.
“‘Twas… hm. What is the time?”
“Around seven.”
“...About six bells, then.” 
“By the Twelve, Minfilia, would you remember to eat if I didn’t come to check on you?”
Minfilia smiles sheepishly as she cranes her head up to meet the roegadyn’s eyes. “I do have a tendency to get wrapped up in the business of all…this.” She gestures lamely at the papers before her in particular, one of them being a half-finished letter to… ah, but I shouldn’t intrude upon her work.
“I think that’s an understatement.” Elilgeim smiles back and moves to sit on the armrest, close to where her head lies. From here, she can see the particular hairpin Minfilia had been adjusting, glinting in the low light— oh, Twelve, it’s the one I gave her. Her heart flutters with nerves. “Would you like to talk about anything, get some of these frustrations off your shoulders? Some of these requests overreaching for what they can demand of us, for instance? Crystal Brave bureaucratic bullshite that really should be Alphinaud’s responsibility?” She deploys an amused smirk. “Particularly insistent suitors?”
“Suitors?” A laugh escapes Minfilia’s throat, and Elilgeim subtly pumps her fist in triumph. “You have a most interesting idea of what sorts of missives cross this desk.”
“That isn’t a denial.”
Minfilia rolls her eyes, but the soft smile that enraptures Elilgeim so is still present. “I suppose there have been a few… propositions. All denied, of course, and some more harshly than others.” Elilgeim can’t help but feel a small wave of relief at that.
“I’d love to hear about the audacity of such obnoxious folks.” She holds her hand out, palm upturned, and waits, hoping. “How about you indulge me over some tea and coffee at Rowena’s café?”
Minfilia looks up wistfully at Elilgeim, her brilliant smile fading somewhat but a twinge of hope still present. “I…” she breathes, hesitant and nervous, her eyes briefly darting to the half-finished letter.
“The realm can wait a bell or two for her savior to rest and recuperate a little, so she can get back to the realm-saving business at full capacity.”
Minfilia arches an eyebrow and her smile turns wry. “Now that is massaging my importance overmuch.” She meets and holds Elilgeim’s gaze with her own. “We know well who the true savior of the realm is.”
“Well,” Elilgeim shrugs and smirks, “I’m really just a big stick bashing the primals and the Empire. You’re the one figuring out where and how to point the stick in the right direction.”
Minfilia sighs. “Too humble by half—and quite self-deprecating, to boot. You speak as if you are not a masterful white mage with command of the energies of the elementals.”
“And some of those energies form a really big stone stick that has bashed primals upside the head.” Elilgeim breaks into a grin. “There’s no contradiction.”
Minfilia stifles a giggle with her hand, her eyes softening with fondness as she continues to look up at Elilgeim. “My jewel from afar,” she murmurs—words that immediately rush a creeping heat up Elilgeim’s cheeks. “Ever with the witty repartee. And I confess ‘tis much more appealing than the thought of writing one more sycophantic word addressed to some of these dignitaries.”
“So is that a yes to tea and coffee?”
The Antecedent smiles warmly and finally reaches up, slipping her hand into Elilgeim’s palm. Even through her gloves, Elilgeim can feel the callouses of hard physical work long since past. “If you would allow me to speak of matters other than obnoxious suitors. I really do not think I have the patience to entertain even the thought of them outside of this solar.” 
“Whatever you wish to grouse about, Minfilia, I am all ears,” Elilgeim says warmly, and she makes an ironic bow that makes Minfilia laugh once more before standing and tugging Minfilia from her chair and the weight of expectations within it. And silently, she thanks Thancred for prodding her to check on her. Whether you had ulterior motives or no with such a request… it’s always good to remind Minfilia to live.
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magicalara · 2 years ago
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So...2022 huh
It's time for Em's yearly letter to the blog where I talk about it since the new year's coming in about an hour and a half in my timezone. Prefacing this with a tw for talks of depression, anxiety, horrible friends, and no proof reading. Here is my word vomit and if you don't get to the end, happy new year everyone.
So 2022 was one of, if not the, worst year in my 19 years of living. It started off with the pressure of a class which if I didn't pass, would essentially mean I couldn't go to college, and is ending with me having to walk on eggshells around people and feeling just...so anxious and depressed. Before I get into that, however, in order to save the people I want to specifically call out from having to hear about my depressing word vomit, I'm gonna mention them first.
So I can't make a new year's post without tagging my girl @pinktea99 who has been around for what feels like ever. I think it'll actually be two years of our friendship early next year I don't remember for sure, it might be three...time is fake it doesn't matter anyways. Between the amazing fanfictions you used to make that I still go back to every now and then and now just tagging me in posts you think I'd like, Mo you've been the biggest supporter I've had since I practically started posting real shit on this hellsite and I could not be more grateful. You're on of my biggest inspirations and I love and adore you so much. Let's go into 2023 with just as much happiness as you've given me in 2022 and even more. I love you so much, my dear 💜💚
Next up (and honestly the only other person I have to tag oops 💀) @docmartensanddietcoke my beloved. We've only been friends for a few months now but hot damn do I feel like we've known each other for years. We clicked so quickly and it kinda scared me at first but in such a good way??? Idk but you're amazing and so sweet and passionate and I just love talking to you so much. You've made me so excited about writing again after so long of being stuck in an endless loop of writer's block and just general insecurity that led to me not posting. I'm so happy I met you and I can't wait to see what 2023 brings us. Much love to you and thank you for showing me the pleasures (nudge nudge wink wink) of the pairing that is William T Spears and Mey-Rin 💜♥️💜
Okay so now the other stuff lol. So if you're one of the 20-30 some-odd people who started following me from seeing all the black butler bullshit I post, you wouldn't know but I used to be a kpop blog. I'm like 99% certain that I privated/deleted all of those posts though so yk hopefully y'all don't see that. I still reblog my nct loves because they are my ult group and I love them very much but I used to like only post about kpop. I had to switch because I just wasn't happy with it anymore. I had always envisioned myself as having a blog full of things I loved but after coming back from a break where I saw the fandoms I loved to interact with having gone to shit, I couldn't do it anymore. So I got rid of it all and rebranded 😃 It was honestly a really good decision though and I'm glad I did it because it reminded me of the reasons I started a tumblr account in the first place: to be happy.
For as creepy as certain sides of the black butler fandom may be, I've never felt so supported. Y'all are amazing and I still can't believe any of my posts got passed 50 notes let alone my top three all being just shy of or completely pass 100. All of the interaction is so appreciated and I can't wait to interact with you all more in the new year <33
With the good, though, comes the bad. So much of the last half of my senior year was full on unnecessary bullshit and drama and breakdowns. From the feeling of being stabbed in the back by people I thought I could trust, to being almost taken advantage of in my first wlw relationship, it just was not a great time. This really sucked, though, because my greatest hope was for my senior year in high school to be something worth remembering as I wasn't able to do anything the previous two years since covid put a downer on all of that. But whatever, I graduated and kept the people I wanted to and dropped those I didn't. It's still a work in progress in dropping some of those people, but in getting there lol
I got my first job, which I still have now, and I love working there. There are better days and worse days (I work in public service so there are always those karen's who will come in) but I love the people I work with and am glad that I decided to take the offer to work there when I did. I have some good memories there that definitely are core memories
I can't do this without mentioning the passing of Technoblade. If you didn't know who he was, Technoblade was a minecraft youtuber and streamer who helped so many people with his amazing and funny videos and his stories that he created on the Dream SMP. He unfortunately passed in June this year due to cancer. When I watched the video his dad made announcing it, the world went silent. I spent that whole night and much of the day after crying my eyes out. I couldn't imagine someone who had brought me so much comfort being gone. Hell I'm still not over it, and I don't think I ever will be. Techno was a huge influence, inspiration, and comfort for me and always will be. Fuck cancer.
I had many family problems throughout the year that I won't get into because that's a little more personal than I'd like to get to on such a public place lol. Just know that to all of you who are celebrating alone this year, I feel you, and my heart goes out to you. We aren't alone if we're all together
The one huge positive that I do have to mention is my starting to watch anime. I decided to take the plunge and watch ouran highschool host club because of a cosplay I saw of hikaru and kaoru on tiktok that made me go "oh what the fuck I'll give". I went in not expecting to finish even episode one and came out with new comfort characters and a world I couldn't leave behind. After ouran, I found kuroshitsuji and we'll...here we are lol
On top of the comfort I found in ouran, I found a series that was so much darker but had such good characters that I started to connect with and love. Grelle has been such a huge comfort for me and I can't imagine myself leaving her (or the series) behind at any point for next long while. Seeing such an empowering transgender woman really did it for me and I'm so happy I decided to watch this show and subsequently binge read the manga. I can't wait to see all the kuro content this next year brings
I've lost people this year, I've gained people this year. I've cried so many tears of sadness and absolutely no tears of joy. I've spent way more money than I should on genshin impact and food. Most importantly, I've found a place where I think I can start to build myself up again. Good fucking bye 2022, I'm gonna do my best to make 2023 my bitch and I think that y'all should join me. Thank you all for being here, and I wish you all a happy, healthy new year
If you've made it this far, new chapter of forever forgiveness comes out in two weeks ;)
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sarah-dipitous · 1 year ago
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Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 286
Advanced Thanatology/The Empress of Mars
“Advanced Thanatology”
Plot Description: A case involving a deranged doctor and an abandoned mental hospital leads Sam and Dean to two surprise reunions
Would I Survive the First Five Minutes??: I could not be convinced to break into an abandoned mental hospital at night
Sam is doing everything in his power to help Dean, to bring him back to having a modicum of hope, he even read reviews of the local strip club that’s near where they’re hunting
The hunt this time SEEMS like a ghost hunt (but they thought that last time til it was a shapeshifter instead for the doctor who ran the hospital who (if I heard correctly “specialized” in lobotomy…but ended up killing a lot of patients in the process), and the two boys from the first five minutes have gone missing
I like when they get to get back to some good old fashioned ghost hunting
THIS IS A STRONG ASS GHOST
Blew away the salt and the salt rounds in Sam’s gun worked for like half a second while Dean burned the plague masks
WHY IS THERE STILL A COLD SPOT
……….the patients.
Dean needs to stop trying to kill himself to talk to ghosts or whatever the job needs. It’s one thing to die on the job but he does this bullshit too often for comfort
Ooooo did we just see the reaper headquarters??
You really think that these ghosts of people whose lobotomies killed them are going to be the best conversationalists??
OH FUCK. Ok but how can these guys kill Death but random reaper Billie isn’t fully dead from when Cas stabbed her? She’s right though, it is ironic to hear a Winchester talk about the finality of dying
When they said surprising reunions they really meant it.
I’m truly fanning myself
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Yes I loved sassy old man Death, but when a rule of the universe is that if you kill an incarnation of Death, the next reaper to die takes their place…Billie IS Death now, and she has a VENDETTA against the boys. She’s not charmed by them like the old Death was. Fuck. I love her
Did she just say “the Dean Winchester I know and love”??
Oh, Dean. We’re right back to the moment Kevin died, again. You keep blaming yourself for these things outside your control and saying things like you don’t matter and you only drag Sam down. I need to hug him
I can’t believe there’s a whole bookshelf full of notebooks telling the multiple ways Dean could actually die for the last time and the way it’s gonna happen is rusty nail
It’s so weird to have Billie want Dean to live.
BUT THE DESCRIPTION SAID TWO REUNIONS. Billie/Death still only counts as one. Castiel BETTER be waiting at the bunker. We better see that this episode (with like two minutes left…I doubt it’ll be Mary even though that’s who Dean asked about before he was thrown back to the living world)
I WILL GLADLY SETTLE FOR DEAN RECEIVING A PHONE CALL FROM CAS TO PICK HIM UP
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That man just found out his boyfriend is no longer dead
I hope Cas didn’t come back wrong but I’m not SUPER hopeful about that
“The Empress of Mars”
Plot Description: What are Victorians doing on the planet Mars, home of the Ice Warriors?
The Victorians WOULD write God Save the Queen in huge letters under the polar ice caps on Mars
I love that Bill thinks the Doctor would love The Terminator BECAUSE it has killer robots, as though killer robots are his thing
Oh the effects in this episode are BAD, but Bill’s hair looked good. I love the braided ponytail
Nardole, babes, do not let Missy outtttt
Did elon get his idea to colonize mars from this episode? (I ask as though there aren’t a whole slew of books and shows about colonizing mars)
Mmmm, this is gonna be one of those “difficult decisions for the Doctor” episodes. Not a mystery to be solved but a “he can see that humans are in the wrong but he’s been the protector of humanity for so long” episode
Omg these stupid stupid men keep making negotiating with the ice warrior queen so much harder than it needs to be. One just fired his rifle right at her head.
I can’t blame her for her definition of mercy (the soldiers…but maybe all humanity but definitely the soldiers will die quickly)
Ah fuck. Ah fuck. Ah fuck. The hive is waking up
The ice warrior guns are terrifying. They crumple you up
Ugh I hate how the worst person gets so much screen time…and as I say that, he got shot. I’m not mad about it
Ok why am I lowkey shipping the guy who was put in charge of the expedition (who had once deserted the British army, was hanged for it, but the hanging was botched) with the ice warrior queen? He’s his plea for mercy for humanity even at the expense of his own life and the way she accepted it and also spared him and now he’s pledging his life and service to her
Ummm…ok so the thing I said about the God Save the Queen? Turns out the Doctor, Bill, and the queen’s new man definitely wrote it in rocks on the surface (I don’t think they made that clear at the beginning)…and they were also the ones to just happen across it and decide to go to mars because of it. I don’t think you can have it both ways
Oh Nardole, what did you dooooo? I mean, I PERSONALLY love seeing Missy out of the vault but…why would you?
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podiumdan · 3 years ago
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HERE ARE THE RESULTS FOR THE 2022 F1 PREDICTIONS. LIGHTS OUT & AWAY WE GO.
Under the cut because this is a lot of info 💕
Teams: Triumphs & Fails: Lets start with the positives; Merc, Ferrari, RB & Mclaren all win at least one race & all teams will score points. McLaren to achieve another 1-2. Some conjecture about the WCC - with the title fight between Mercedes, Ferrari, RB & Mclaren. Unfortunately for Alpine they’re predicted to have a underwhelming year. Some suggest last in the constructors, with record number of DNFs (all Alonso’s car) rip el plan. Alpha Tauri will be in the fight for ‘best of the rest’, & Williams will find form & out-perform Alpine, AR, & AM (P6 in the constructors anyone?). The fall of Red Bull is predicted - with a DNF Monaco to rub salt in the wound. Haas are predicted to be bought out mid-season- though someone did predict that if they were to get rid of eggman (done) they will get double digit points, resulting in a morale boost & the new driver (k-mag) will catapult them to unforeseen heights. Haas Reputation Era confirmed?
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Podiums & Wins: Let’s start off strong with the prediction that Lewis will get at least his 108th win this season. George, Lando, Carlos will get their first wins. Seb will win in Singapore. Another Estebestie win. Lando to win at least 3 races, with 3 Brits appearing on the podium at least once. Speaking of podiums, this season will see a win for diversity with Lewis, Yuki & Guanyu appearing together on the podium. The return of the HAM VER BOT podium. A prediction for Daniel to go back to back at Monza thus breaking the monza returning winners curse - also more than one win is on the cards for Daniel this season. Some podium predictions for Yuki, Mick, Lance & Pierre. Lastly, Antonio will sub in for Carlos in one of the Italian races and make it onto the podium; which will be just as good as a win.
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Driver Predictions: We already have one prediction that has come to fruition. No Mazepin. Should we call it a day? Lewis winning his 8th title in Brazil & Daniel becoming world champion were both submitted in capital letters. Oscar Piastri will race (the prediction of 2 drivers testing positive to covid was also predicted coincidentally). Predictions were pretty brutal for drivers this year - Charles will not finish his home race due to last lap damage. George doesn’t get a win - some think he might become washed and people will see Valtteri in a different light. Max has a flop season. Mick won’t have a contract for 2023 because Haas won’t be in F1 (ouch). Lewis will complain about the safety car going too slowly. Daniel to finish above Lando this season in points & qualifying sessions. George will be asked to give his place to Lewis and he’ll say no. Because that was all quite dramatic let’s finish with the prediction of Seb being unhinged & with Mick all the time.
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Track Walk: F1 is a walking red flag, so let’s start there; the predictions are that there will be between 5-7 red flags this season, most of them in the Saudi Arabia GP - the vibe for this GP is chaotic with many predicting incidents & safety cars (prayer circle for a safe race pls). We have the prediction of multiple wet races. DNFs in Monaco (someone made the bold prediction of 10 dnfs in one race). One race will finish under a safety car and all hell will break loose. This brings us to our next part involving the FIA.
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That Was Legal!?: Let’s start with safety cars. A race that doesn't need to finish under SC finishes under SC anyway just so the FIA can get good media about "learning from their mistakes". The new race directors are going to make questionable decisions, again. There will be at least three (3) bullshit penalties awarded. FIA will continue clowning and fuck up massively again sometime this season, causing ww3 on f1twt. FIA and RB Drama - FIA retract Verstappen’s 2021 win leading Christian Horner to have a public meltdown.
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2022 Cars: Unsurprisingly people are a little unsure about the new cars this season - strong predictions that the new ground-effect cars will fail in the first couple races, causing problems for basically everybody & a revamp will be required. RB are going to try and pull some shithousery over the Merc side-pods. One car is illegal. Pirelli tyre dramas & the Netflix Curse will strike again.
Drama: Beginning with the team bosses; Christian will say stupid things in interviews. Toto destroys something again, & has to replace headphones 12 times. No Toto-Horner drama, Otmar vs Binotto instead. Onto the drivers - Ferrari fighting, Charles & Carlos drama after they’re consistently fighting for wins (bonus points for a monza altercation). McLaren will struggle with battles between the two drivers (Lando physically fights Daniel). Messy Merc v RB.
Last Dance: Driver changes as follows; Alonso re-retires, Seb’s final season, Pierre signs with a different team. Lewis winning his 8th championship and retiring.
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BOLD: If you made it this far let me give you a big smooch right now! Here are the boldest predictions for the 2022 season. It turns out the reason Ferrari were so good is because it was illegal. Alonso gets covid just before the triple header so Oscar get 3 f1 races in and immediately is better than him. George tries hitting Lewis over the head like Valtteri (it doesn't go well.) Gasly burns down RB headquarters. Yuki steals Gasly's house meanwhile. A fan sneaks into an F1 car before a race. Ferrari podium every single race. Seb WDC. There is a wet race in Abu Dhabi and the final race is completed by only six drivers which are actually backmarkers -Mick Schumacher wins. Horsey Albon, Roscoe Hamilton, and Angie Schumacher all meet. Nico R finally gets Lewis for his podcast. RedBull is going to start a Youtube conspiracy video channel. Mick Schumacher F1 2022 Champion. Charles Leclerc wins the world championship in the last race by taking out the driver who he is level on points with.
Leaving you with these three final predictions we can all agree on: Whomst knoweth. Cars go fast. We will have to watch another season of this clown car racing 🤡.
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tonystarkbingo · 5 years ago
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TSB Week 6 Roundup!  These also include the remaining adopted prompts from January, and even one or two from February!
And for last week, Alex was the earner of a Participation badge!  Congratulations!
And now, on to the fills!  Go give them some love!
Title: I do, me too, me three Collaborator: Trashcanakin Link: Tumblr Square Filled: S4- Marriage of Convenience/Pretend Couple Ship: Tony/Bucky/Matt Rating: Gen Major Tags: none Summary: [Moodboard + Prompt] Tony fake dates both bucky & matt for some undercover mission, later, he marries them also for a mission. But they stay married at the end 'cause love.
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Title: Newton’s Cradle Collaborator: ABitNotGoodieBag Link: AO3 Square Filled: A2 - Vibranium Ship: None Rating: Teen Major Tags: TeamSalty, Not Steve Rogers friendly, Peter is a little shit, Tony is a little shit, Team Iron Man, IronDad and SpiderSon, Post CACW Summary: Steve asks where his shield is, Peter tells him. Word Count: 1546
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Title: Red and Blue Collaborator: Politzania Link: AO3 Square Filled: S1 - Present Tense Ship: Pepperony Rating: Mature Major Tags: Established Relationship, Present Tense, Scavenger Hunt Summary: Pepper sends Tony on a scavenger hunt around the mansion. Word Count: 424
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Title: let the soft animal of your body love what it loves - Chapter 9: ix. Collaborator: deathsweetqueen Link: AO3 Square Filled: S3 - resolve Ship: Stony Rating: Explicit Major Tags: Summary: Word Count:
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Title: Adventures of Tiny Dragon Tony and His Treasure (Loki) - Chapter 38: Snapshot #38: La Vie en Rose Collaborator: BennyBatch Link: AO3 Square Filled: T2 - shapeshifter Ship: FrostIron Rating: Gen Major Tags: AU, established relationship, Fluff Summary: Who knew pink could be both at once so infuriating yet so fetching when it concerned one tiny dragon. Word Count: 27,401
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Title: this is where worlds end (and ours collide) Collaborator: cadmvs Link: AO3 Square Filled: A1 - Doom  Ship: WinterIron Rating: Mature Major Tags: Character Death Summary: The end of the world is here, and Tony is stuck with Bucky. Many of their friends have died, some of them are alive. What happens when they used to be too scared to admit their repressed emotions and now seems to be the perfect time? Word Count: 2134
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Title: Self-Preservation Collaborator: ashes0909 Link: AO3 Square Filled: S5 - AU: Hydra Won Ship: Tony Stark/Strike Team, Tony Stark/Brock Rumlow, Tony Stark/Jack Rollins Rating: Explicit Major Tags: Hydra Trash Party, Rape/Non-Con Elements, Dark Ending Summary: When shit hit the fan, Tony’s self-preservation always won out, because there was always the next fight, and he had to be alive to see it, even if that meant he had to get used, degraded, torn down. It’d give him time to plan, to escape, to come back and take his vengeance. Word Count: 2880
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Title: N/A [Art] Collaborator: trashcanakin Link: Tumblr Square Filled: Adopted - Power Swap Ship: N/A Rating: Gen Major Tags: N/A Summary: Tony as The Scarlet Witch? Seems legit Word Count: N/A
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Title: IM Spotter Collaborator: Gavilan Link: AO3 Square Filled: A3 - Free Ship: Tony Stark & Peter Parker Rating: Gen Major Tags: POV Outsider Summary: Floriana has headed up the IM Spotter club, New York branch for years, in a certain cafe with a very good view of Stark Tower. Never has she dreamed of having such a special guest, however. Word Count: 2154
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Title: Feelings that Flood on the Page Collaborator: PoliZ Link: AO3 Square Filled: A4 - Vulnerability Ship: Stony Rating: Gen Major Tags: Alternate Universe: High School Summary: Steve gets a somewhat anonymous love letter in his locker; Bucky pushes him to confirm his suspicions as to the author. Word Count: 710
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Title: You’ll Do Collaborator: camichats Link: AO3 Square Filled: S2 - Wanda Maximoff/Scarlet Witch Ship: Tony Stark/Scarlet Maximoff Rating: Teen Major Tags: Fake Relationship, Getting Together Summary: Wanda had agreed to bring her fiancee to a family vacation so everyone could meet. Unfortunately, a week before that vacation, she finds Brock cheating on her. Tony gets roped into not only going on that vacation with her, but into pretending that they're engaged. Word Count: 2368
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Title: About Face Collaborator: Politzania Link: AO3 Square Filled: Adopted - Brock Rumlow/Crossbones Ship: background Stucky Rating: Teen Major Tags: CA:CW canon divergence, occult Hydra bullshit, de-aging, redemption arc Summary: Brock Rumlow is having a weird fucking week. After surviving the explosion in Lagos thanks to occult Hydra bullshit, he is tasked with assisting Helmut Zemo in an improbable (at best) plan to destroy the Avengers. But getting a new lease on life may have given Brock a change of heart as well; when the plan turns Captain America, the Winter Soldier and Iron Man into children, Brock takes on the role of protector. Word Count: 2746
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Title: Phase Two Collaborator: betheflame Link: AO3 Square Filled: K1 - Vampire / Werewolf Ship: Stuckony Rating: Teen Major Tags: fem!Tony Summary: Toni and her fuzzy favorites celebrate the day of manufactured affection. Word Count: 1495
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Title: Pizza for Valentine's Day Collaborator: newnewyorker93 Link: AO3 Squares Filled: S4 - writing format: 5+1 (Chapter 1) S1 - wish (Chapter 2) K4 - Morgan Stark (Chapter 6) Ship: Pepperony Rating: Gen Major Tags: fluff, Valentine's Day, 5+1 Summary: Five times Tony and Pepper had pizza for Valentine's Day + one time they didn't. A series of short ficlets and drabbles of Tony & Pepper celebrating Valentine's Day - together and apart - from several years before the events of Iron Man 1 through 2020. Word Count: 2310
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Title: let the soft animal of your body love what it loves - Chapter 10: x. Collaborator: deathsweetqueen Link: AO3 Square Filled: K4 - graveyard Ship: Stony Rating: Explicit Major Tags: Time Travel, Endgame Steve goes back in time to be with Post AOU Tony, Explicit Sexual Content, Dirty Talk, Past Domestic Violence, Post AOU AU, Breaking Up and Making Up, Marriage Counselling, Superfamily, Team Iron Man, but not Steve unfriendly, he's just a moron, a lot of fighting and arguments, Dubious Consent due to Identity Issues Summary: In 2023, Steve Rogers, after burning his husband's body, goes through the timelines to return each of the Infinity Stones. In 2015, Tony Stark’s husband returns to him and for the first time in years, he has hope for his marriage. Word Count: 44,670
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Title: The Berry Thief Collaborator: newnewyorker93 Link: Tumblr Square Filled: T3 - I regret nothing Ship: none Rating: Gen Major Tags: none Summary: Gerald the Alpaca absconding with the last of Pepper’s goji berries:a reenactment in felt
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Title: Zoom! Collaborator: monobuu Link: Tumblr Square Filled: A4 - Iron Dad Ship: Tony Stark & Peter Parker Rating: Gen Major Tags: Shenanigans, Tomfoolery Summary: They've got an iron man suit, roller skates, and a free afternoon. Word Count: N/A [Art]
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Title: Missing - Please Return Collaborator: Turtlesse Link: AO3 Square Filled: T1 - Tony playing piano Ship: WinterIron Rating: Gen Major Tags: None Summary: What Tony needs is sleep.Oddly enough, what Tony wants is sleep.What Tony doesn't want but probably needs anyway is to sign those damned papers.What Tony neither wants nor needs is Bucky calling him in a panic. Yet, that is what he gets. Word Count: 2836
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Title: Forever Intertwined Collaborator: alexisriversong Link: AO3 Square Filled: S5 - Steve Rogers/Captain America Ship: Stony Rating: Mature Major Tags: None Summary: symbiote!Tony infests Steve but rather than taking over, falls in love with this Very Dumb Human, 'oh god, how did you survive without me' Word Count: 1000
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Title: People. Ugh.  Collaborator: Turtlesse Link: AO3 Square Filled: K5 - Writing Format: a pairing you’ve never done Ship: FrostIron Rating: Gen Major Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University Summary: Loki hated students. Rather unfortunate, as a professor.However, he did not hate Professor Stark. Word Count: 1072
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Title: Booty Booty Booty Collaborator: monobuu Link: Tumblr Square Filled: K5 - Art Format: Comic Layout Ship: None Rating: Teen Major Tags: Shenanigans, tomfoolery, butts Summary: Tony finds a penny, picks it up, and chaos reigns in the gym Word Count: N/A [Art]
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Title: Perfect Solution Collaborator: 27dragons  Link: AO3 Square Filled: K1 - Puzzle Ship: WinterIron Rating: Teen Major Tags: Established Relationship Summary: Despite telling Tony that they didn’t need to exchange gifts for their second dating anniversary, Bucky's got something for Tony -- a puzzle to solve. Or rather, several. Word Count: 984
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Title: Adopt-A-Prompt: Stephen Strange Collaborator: lronhusbands Link: Tumblr Square Filled: Adopted - Stephen Strange Ship: IronStrange Rating: Gen Major Tags: moodboard Summary: Where Tony Stark and Stephen Strange work for NASA, find a new planet, and argue about what to name it.
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Title: Armageddidn’t Collaborator: rebirthofaphoenix Link: Tumblr Square Filled: Adopted - AU: Good Omens Ship: Tony/Crowley/Aziraphale Rating: Mature Major Tags: immortality, blood, crossover-ish, AU-ish Summary: its a moodboard lads (of course Harley and Peter become friends with Warlock and Adam)
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Title: Attempt 200 Collaborator: Pyrone Link: AO3 Square Filled: S1 - on the run Ship: Tony & Stephen Rating: Gen Major Tags: none Summary: Stephen’s 200th out of 14,000,605 timelines. Otherwise known as the timeline Stephen just grabs Tony and runs off with him. Word Count: 858
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Title: Bedtime Story Collaborator: dixiehellcat Link: AO3 Square Filled: S2 - old team Ship: Nick Fury & Avengers Rating: Teen Major Tags: Reading Aloud, Insomniac Tony Stark, well insomniac Avengers really, Avengers 2012—freeform, Helicarrier, mention of past dysfunctional childhoods, Nick Fury is a good bro Summary: The Avengers are stressed after a disturbing mission, especially Tony. Steve turns to Fury for help, and the SHIELD director has a unique idea. Word Count: 2532
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Title: Can’t Get Enough Collaborator: SierraNovembr Link: AO3 Square Filled: S3 - KINK: orgasm denial / edging Ship: Tony/Sam/Bucky Rating: Explicit Major Tags: Smut, Threesome - M/M/M, oral sex, anal sex, biting, orgasm delay/denial, laughing during sex, bottom Bucky Barnes, top Sam Wilson, Sam Wilson is a delight Summary: The idea was that they would tell Bucky they needed him urgently, Bucky would hurry in to see what they needed, and then he would be here sooner and with a tiny hint of a lovely flush as a bonus. He would take one look at them snuggled naked under the covers and want to join them. Affection. Sex. A good morning for all. Word Count: 2318
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Title: Morgan's Valentines Collaborator: rebelmeg Link: AO3 Square Filled: K5 - I Love You 3000 Ship: Morgan & her family Rating: Gen Major Tags: Valentine's Day Summary: Morgan makes a valentine for all the people, creatures, bots, and AI's in her life. Word Count: 2100
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Title: Red String of Fate Collaborator: rebirthofaphoenix Link: Tumblr Square Filled: T1 - polyamory or open relationship Ship: Clint/Tony/Pietro Rating: Teen Major Tags: Pietro didn’t die, happy triad, soulmate tattoos, Celtic influences Summary: moodboard
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Title: Outdoorsy in That I Drink on Patios Collaborator: betheflame Link: AO3 Square Filled: S2 - KINK: nippleplay Ship: Stuckony Rating: Explicit Major Tags: explicit sexual content Summary: Tony wants to take his boyfriends skiing. They discover other uses for his mountain cabin. Word Count: 1359
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Title: A Thousand Words Collaborator: tisfan Link: AO3 Square Filled: S5 - Tony Stark / T'challa Ship: IronPanther Rating: Teen Major Tags: were creatures, Tony Stark Does What He Wants, Wakanda Summary: Tony knows he’s not supposed to cross the border, but the call of a prize winning photograph is strong. When he finds his subject, things are more than they appear... Word Count: 1897
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Title: Upside Down - Chapter 1 Collaborator: Iron_Eirlyssa (Eirlyssa) Link: AO3 Square Filled: Adopted - AU: Alice in Wonderland Ship: Winteriron Rating: Teen Major Tags: Alice in Wonderland AU, canon-typical violence, developing relationship, happy ending Summary: Time after time, Phil lures an unsuspecting Alice down to Wonderland. And time after time, Bucky has to watch as they fail to succeed in the one task set for the Alice - to kill the Hydra with the Vorpal Sword. He doesn't expect this 'Anthony' to do any better. Word Count: 733
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Title: Define Winning Collaborator: lbibliophile-mcu Link: Tumblr Square Filled: A5 - writing format: missing scene/ epilogue/ coda Ship: Stephen Strange & Eye of Agamotto Rating: Gen Major Tags: the Snap,14,000,605 futures Summary: When fighting against impossible odds, you need to know exactly what you are trying to achieve; what is the one battle you cannot lose. Sometimes, success all comes down to asking the right question.
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Title: Doppelganger Downey Jr. Collaborator: martianwahtney Link: AO3 Square Filled: S4 - Doppelganger/Evil Twin Ship: IronHusbands Rating: Gen Major Tags: crack Summary: 'Apparently Robert Downey Jr and Tony Stark are two different people. Could have fooled me’.  the instagram post by Harley Keener quickly goes viral and Tony Stark does not agree Word Count: 682
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Title: more than i love you Collaborator: summerpipedream Link: AO3 Square Filled: S2 - fluff Ship: Stony Rating: Gen Major Tags: poetry Summary: On the subject of why you, Tony Stark, and I, Steve Rogers, should get married. Word Count: 473
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Title: Synchronicities Collaborator: dixiehellcat Link: AO3 Square Filled: Adopted - Christine Everhart Ship: Christine & Fate Rating: Gen Major Tags: pre-Wordsmith, journalism, are there coincidences? Summary: Reporter Christine Everhart gets a chance at the big break she's been hoping for, and finds herself swept along by the tides of fortune. A story about the feeling when everything comes together and you wonder if it's all happening for a reason. Word Count: 1025
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Title: i wrote an entire album (about us drowning) Collaborator: asphxdels Link: AO3 Square Filled: A1 - Steve Rogers / Captain America Ship: past Stony Rating: Gen Major Tags: angst Summary: what troubles him right now the most though, is the fact that tony is here. he is with him, walking beside him. Word Count: 1547
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Title: let the soft animal of your body love what it loves - Chapter 11: xi. Collaborator: deathsweetqueen Link: AO3 Square Filled: T4 - nightmares Ship: Stony Rating: Explicit Major Tags: Time Travel, Endgame Steve goes back in time to be with Post AOU Tony, Explicit Sexual Content, Dirty Talk, Past Domestic Violence, Post AOU AU, Breaking Up and Making Up, Marriage Counselling, Superfamily, Team Iron Man, but not Steve unfriendly, he's just a moron, a lot of fighting and arguments, Dubious Consent due to Identity Issues Summary: In 2023, Steve Rogers, after burning his husband's body, goes through the timelines to return each of the Infinity Stones. Word Count: 48,895
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