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pinkie-quinns · 6 months ago

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(posting some old twitter threads here for posterity's sake)

rocker eddie actor steve fame au p1 | p2 p3 p4 p5 interlude p6

Steve follows Eddie out to LA. Indiana’s home, sure, but Eddie’s got dreams bigger than the both of them. And Steve loves him, wants to be there with him the whole way through.

He does odd jobs to pass the time, nannies a lot, works on sets. Extra work pays the best, quick easy cash, so he dances to click tracks in cut scenes of teen shows and pays for their groceries.

A producer on one of the bigger jobs picks him out on set, tells him he has a good screen presence. He gives him a contact for a proper agent. Steve books the third thing he tries out for.

It's a small role on a pilot that hasn't been picked up yet. He's excited but doesn't think much of it. Mostly he’s just happy for the paycheck. Corroded Coffin's really struggling to break through. They just got dropped from their tiny indie label and Eddie's really bummed.

And Steve uses some of the money from his big, SAG-approved paycheck to try to cheer Eddie up. Make him feel better about the whole thing. But it does the opposite. Eddie keeps acting resentful.

It only gets worse when Steve's show does get picked up.

Turns out he tested really well with audiences. So the writers rewrote him into the main cast, extended his two episode arc into the whole season. And Steve's really grateful for it, figures they both should be. Eddie's not really working and they need the money.

Corroded coffin is still labelless and basically broken up by the time the show comes out.

It's a smash hit. Steve's character is a fan favourite. Overnight, he finds himself within the throes of fame. He gets a manager and a PR team and a personal assistant.

He's away from home a lot, doing the media circuit to promote the show. People start prodding into his personal life. His manager, his team, and the network all advise him to appear single and available.

Eddie makes it easy for him. He leaves without saying a word.

Years down the road, Steve is settled into his fame. He's done a couple movies (some hits, most misses). His show is heading into its final season. He's dated a lot, mostly other celebrities.

Then he walks into a CVS on Venice & sees a name he's been trying to forget for 7 years.

Right on the cover of NME. Eddie had gone to London, apparently. Finally broke through there. Was releasing his debut album later this month.

At least that's what Steve could tell from looking at it. He doesn’t buy the magazine. He hops into his car and drives til he’s out of gas.

He used to do that back in Indiana. When everything got too loud. Used to do that with Eddie, once they finally got their shit together. Just drive until the tank is near empty & then pull up to some blinking gas station. Head home.

Steve strands himself in Santa Barbara instead.

He sleepwalks through the next few months. The town is buzzing around the impending arrival of Eddie Munson. His album, Penitence, debuted to solid numbers & has only been gaining traction since. He's promoted it in London, New York, done Glastonbury & the late festival circuit.

It's gotten to the point where it's big enough that its hit single is even terrorizing Steve's local grocery store. He knows the first three notes really well. Knows cause that's his cue to leave.

He hasn't listened to the album. He hasn't read any of the interviews.

In his head it's a good kind of revenge. Eddie left without a trace. Steve should respect his wishes, right? That's what Eddie wanted so badly that he couldn't even call.

He should respect that too, be staying dead instead of haunting every busboard like a poltergeist.

But he's Eddie so of course he doesn't. So instead Steve spends all his free time thinking about when he'll inevitably run into him. Will it be the VMA afterparty? Will it be the CBS lot? Will it be the whole foods he keeps running into Michelle Pfeiffer at? (Probably not that)

In the end, it's a knock at his door.

Eddie came straight from the airport. Big duffel at his feet. He looks a decade older but his eyes are the same. He doesn't say I'm sorry, or I fucked up. Doesn't get down on his knees & beg. He just asks:

"Did you listen to the album?"

There's a part of Steve that wants to throw a fit. Be big and loud and start lobbing things at Eddie. He'd seen a movie star do that on set once. Over a PA bringing him the wrong brand of flavored water. But he's not Wahlberg, so he invites Eddie inside.

And they sit and listen to Penitence.

It's an apology. A long one. Fifteen tracks though Eddie always used to be a real asshole about albums that were longer than twelve.

And it covers everything. All the regret and resentment and the ego that clouded him when fame happened for Steve and not for him. When Steve didn't even want it. It's sorry over and over and over again. It's I fucked up and please take me back. It's ego death. It's disgust and guilt and self-flagellation.

And when it's over, it dawns on Steve, who feels just as heartbroken as ever, that it's not enough.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #twitter threads #fanfic #angst #fame au

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booksandabeer · 1 year ago

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Celebrating 10 Years of CA:TWS — A Stucky Rec List

Rec list for the CA:TWS 10th Anniversary Event @catws-anniversary (thank you so much for organizing this event! 💙) | Prompt: Memories

10 years, huh? 10 years of Captain America: The Winter Soldier. 10 years of what many—myself included—still consider to be the best MCU movie ever made.

But also 10 years of post-TWS fanfiction. 10 years of Bucky Barnes Recovering and Steve Rogers' Sadness Errands; of Up All Night to Get Bucky and Revenge Road Trips; of Winter Soldier Trauma Umbrellas and Everybody Needing A Goddamn Hug; of Good Bros and Soft Epilogues. 10 years and tens of thousands of Steve/Bucky fics later, here we are.

So, to mark the occasion, let's take a trip down memory lane and celebrate the movie and the stories it inspired: One fic from each year since it all began:

There's really only one rule here: All fics are set before, during, or after the events of CA:TWS and/or reimagine its plot in interesting ways. Naturally, many of the fics on this list are post-TWS canon divergent, but I tried to go for a nice variety of length, genre, and popularity to keep it interesting. Speaking of popularity, this is very much not intended as a round-up of ‘most popular fics of each year’ because—and I say this with all the love and respect in my heart for those stories and their authors—nobody needs a rec list for that, and I believe in spreading the love. Here we go:

Poltergeists by enemyofrome | 17K, T

Author's summary: When the helicarriers blow up and the Winter Soldier goes on the run, he takes Steve with him. He's got a name written in Morse code on the inside of his arm, a ton of questions he doesn't know how to ask, and now, a new handler with absolutely zero sense of self-preservation to contend with. Life is hard. In which Bucky tries to figure out whether he's a human being, Steve does everything he can to keep from losing him again, and there are lots of explosions.

Starting off with one of the best versions of the 'Bucky didn't leave Steve, he took him with him after the Potomac' fics that were (and still are!) so popular post-TWS. This one stands out because of its fantastic beginning, its interesting take on how Bucky was broken and remade into the Winter Soldier, and because it allows both characters to be messy. It's a popular fanon trope that it's Steve who brings out a ruthless, almost vicious streak in Bucky, but here it's emphasized that this is very much a mutual thing. Just like Bucky, who's often afforded the "excuse" of still figuring out how to be a person again, Steve gets to be difficult here—without ever turning him into a stubborn asshole. They're both traumatized, and they're both allowed to show it and to lash out, including at each other. Also, this fic will give you capital-F Feelings about morse codes and apples. Believe me.

sleepwalk back to the battle site by ftmsteverogers | 22K, T

Author's summary: “I’m going to track down every HYDRA agent that’s left,” Bucky says, buckling his gun deftly to his belt. “And then I’m going to kill them.” “Oh,” Steve says. “Come with me?” Bucky asks, dangerous hands tucked into his pockets.

A classic post-TWS fic that picks up right after the movie ends. Equal parts Revenge Roadtrip, Bucky Barnes recovering, and Steve Rogers being in urgent need of a good hug. This starts out intensely melancholic—Steve's despair and helplessness are palpable and there's a scene involving a drinking glass that still brings tears to my eyes just thinking about it. Halfway through, the story changes pace and becomes much more action-heavy, but it still manages to allow space for the quiet, intimate moments between Steve and Bucky. They have both become sharp and deadly men, but they're also allowed to be soft with each other. Their coming together feels sweet and inevitable. I also really enjoyed the Steve characterization here. His absolute conviction that Bucky is still Bucky at his very core and always will be, but also his emotional and intellectual flexibility to adapt to this still-new-to-him, changed version of Bucky rang very true to me.

Surveillance by Sproings, 7K in 2 parts, G

Author's summary: If there are ears everywhere, that means it's somebody's job to listen. I hate my job.

Do you ever think about how SHIELD bugged Steves DC apartment and how horrible that was, but also...you're kind of curious what they might have overheard? Do you ever wonder about the people who listened in on his sad, lonely life? Well, here you go. An outsider POV fic told "through the ears" of an unnamed SHIELD agent assigned to spy on the private life of a man who doesn't really have much of one. The story begins just before IM3 and takes us all the way through the events of CA:TWS and beyond. It's clever, original and told with great empathy for both the subject under surveillance and the person carrying out that surveillance—who increasingly questions its purpose. Here's a small snippet to give you an idea of the fic's style:

He got a phone call, once. He put it on speaker, too, which was very exciting for me at the time. It was from an archivist at the Smithsonian. They seemed really surprised that he answered his own phone calls. The two of them talked for a long time about an exhibit the museum was planning. A very long time. As if one of them was starstruck, and the other was desperate for any kind of human interaction.

What Gets You Through by velleities | 12K, M

Author's summary: For Steve, getting through each day is a process – one he’s currently failing at spectacularly. Feeling out of place in this brave new world, he hopes to find a home in Bucky, and looks for him with everything he’s got. But Bucky doesn’t want to be found, and when he does touch base with Steve, he never sticks around for long. Bucky has embraced the modern age, leaving Steve lagging behind – or so Steve believes, until Bucky shows him otherwise.

This post-TWS fic revolves around five encounters in liminal spaces, and each time Bucky has pieced himself back together again just a little more. Despite their increasingly longer and more honest conversations, and Bucky's incremental progress, he always disappears again, leaving Steve to grapple with his heartbreak. There are quietly gorgeous moments in this fic (the bus and the church in particular were my personal favorites) as well as wonderfully crafted characterizations. Bucky is initially portrayed as somewhat feral in some ways yet surprisingly well-adjusted in others, and I love that Steve can't help but be a little annoyed at that. However, it quickly becomes clear that, in good old Bucky Barnes fashion, much of it is really just a front put up for Steve's benefit...

A Real Boy by itsnotbleak | 5K, T

Author's summary: It took the Winter Soldier three weeks to remember that human beings needed to sleep and eat. It took Steve far too long to realise the Winter Soldier was sleeping in his bed.

A wonderful, short-but-doesn't-feel-like-it fic (in the very best way) set immediately after CA:TWS, in which Bucky secretly and then soon not so secretly visits Steve in his apartment. Follow along as Bucky Barnes argues with his brain about sandwich toppings, the importance of a good night's sleep, and the necessity of personal hygiene. Also: how to best go about becoming a real boy (again). And who the hell is that Bucky guy anway? This is as soft and sweet a Bucky recovery fic as you're ever going to find. It's funny but not silly; sad in a way that all of these stories inherently are—because, well, these are some tragic boys—but not super angsty or depressing. A beautiful story with a lovely, hopeful ending.

Savage God by PottersPink | 36K, M

Author's summary (abbr.): Past, present, future, Steve knows Bucky Barnes. It’s why he recognized him when he found him in that alley in April of 1942, even though Bucky was older, stronger, wearier; he called himself The Asset, and had a metal fucking arm. He flinched when Steve tried to touch him, and when Steve told him he loved him, his first response was to ask why. Seventy years later, Steve wakes up in the twenty-first century, and he doesn’t know whether to be heartbroken or hopeful when some of the things Bucky revealed to him in 1942 start falling into place.

An absolutely riveting AU that will have you on the edge of your seat the whole time. I'm itching to talk about it more but I cannot since it would mean spoiling the hell out of it. What I can say is that it's a very intriguing and clever exploration of what would happen if Steve knew about the future but without really knowing any of the details. How would it change the events of CA:TFA and CA:TWS, and how would it change Steve himself? I so very much appreciate this characterization of Steve as smart, competent, and unwavering with a hefty dose of no fucks left to give. This fic features some really nifty time travel and plotting, great action sequences and a very satisfying ending where certain people get their much-deserved comeuppance. Plus: Bonus Shrinkyclinks (kind of)!

Charlie Lock by seapigeon | 105K, M (hard M)

Author's summary (abbr.): The Winter Soldier knows that sometimes, in order to make the kill, you must destroy what the Target lives for. Steve Rogers knows that he can't fight his captors. If he fights, they'll kill Bucky. But the price of his life is steep. Tony Stark has nothing left to live for, but he's needed. So all these miserable motherfuckers better stay alive, too. Clint Barton never expected to be a leader. But a leader he is, and no one else is going to die on his watch. --- A story in which the first wave of Project Insight succeeds, and the Avengers must pick up the pieces and find a way to stop Hydra from completing its work with Zola's algorithm.

This is not only the longest fic on this list, but also the angstiest one—by a mile, so please heed the tags. It's dark, disturbing, and brutal. However, it is neither relentless misery porn nor is it shocking for shock's sake, where everything is magically forgotten and/or healed the moment Steve and Bucky start kissing. Instead, the author puts these characters into an absolutely horrifying situation and then slowly, gently guides them out of it and into the light.

It's a Stucky fic but it's also a multi-POV ensemble piece featuring all the Avengers and other familiar faces. If you are someone who'll always be a little bitter about the unfulfilled promise of an Avengers found family, then this is for you. In this AU, they do not only fight together, but grow together in every way. They truly become a team, not just co-workers barely tolerating each other. The story takes its time exploring the characters and the group dynamics. Steve and Bucky are definitely at the center of the narrative but there is space here for every member of the team to grieve and adjust to the new reality and to find at least some measure of healing. It's a story about the meaning and the consequences of revenge, about hope and resilience, and about love in all its many forms. It also has one of the most satisfying title drops that will have you pump your fist in triumph when it happens. It's a tough read, but ultimately a very rewarding one.

SPELEVINK by Ginny_Potter | 10K, G

Author's summary: Bucky’s back. He’s leaving me messages through IKEA plushies, Steve texts Sam. jesus christ, rogers, Sam texts back. Or, Bucky lives in an IKEA Tiny Apartment, Steve is a dancing monkey once again, and somehow they find their way back to each other.

This is an absolute DELIGHT of a fic that will have you alternately laughing out loud and crying quietly into your SVARTFIBBLA blanket (super-soft, recycled polyester, 47x63"). It's ‘crack treated seriously’ at its very best and a clear homage to the fandom classic Infinite Coffee… (that’s not a dig or a spoiler, the author says so in the author’s note).

Now if you know me, you’ll know that angst o’clock is my happy hour and I’m usually not very into these heavy-on the-humor quasi-absurdist fics (because I’m super special and not like all the other girls, obviously). But. I LOVED this story so, so much. It’s such a fun read—even when it makes you cry—and it really became one of those ‘huh, I guess I’m into this after all’ moments of joyful (self)discovery via fanfic for me. I never thought a pair of oven mitts could move me like that, and I'll never be able to walk into an IKEA again without muttering "F******!" under my breath (iykyk). Absolutely fantastic.

a handful of dust by RecoveringTheSatellites | 20K, M

Author's summary: Steve looks for Bucky for a long time. But the thing is that Bucky doesn't get found, Bucky finds. Bucky always finds Steve. This takes a hard left after the Potomac and stumbles through the dark a lot after. Take a bit of running, the occasional synaptic misfire, the resurfacing of old memories, a dash or two of PTSD, and (eventually) a nice dose of action, stir, and serve over some unresolved issues.

Honestly, the second paragraph up there perfectly sums up the story. It's a good ol' fashioned Bucky recovery fic with some angst, some action, and a whole lot of healing and devotion. Steve and Bucky get to be very sappy about each other, but also extremely Badass Battle Boyfriends™ when somebody threatens their hard-won happiness. Both are allowed to be messy, unstable, and very co-dependent.

This was the first time this author played in the Stucky sandbox and I mean it 100% as a compliment when I say that you can tell. This is someone with "fresh legs" diving headfirst and very deep into the Stucky trope pool and they're doing it with great relish and enthusiam. The result is a story that rejects some of the tried and true conventions of the post-TWS fanfic canon and lovingly embraces others, but that is definitely aware of and in dialogue with the body of work that came before it. Also, it's just a really fun read that gives these two the very soft ending they deserve.

Everybody is Supposed to be Dead by pollutedstar | 22K, M

Author's summary: In 1944, Bucky Barnes falls off a train into the Alps, missing and presumed dead. Months later, Steve Rogers nosedives a plane into the arctic. In 2010, the Winter Soldier project is uncovered by S.H.I.E.L.D., and Bucky Barnes is found alive. Three years later, Steve Rogers’ frozen body is found in the ocean.

A really interesting AU and a fascinating exploration of what could’ve been; the impact it would’ve had on the events and characters if Bucky had been the one to be “found” first. How would it affect Steve to come back into a world where he isn’t quite so lonely and adrift, and where he does have the relief and reassurance of having Bucky by his side and at his back? How would that have changed the way he acted and reacted to this strange new world and the people and organizations trying to recruit him to their cause even though the ice hasn't even completely melted off his body yet?

There are a lot of astute and precise observations about characters like Tony, Natasha, and Clint in this story, and on top of that, it offers up some very compelling insights into Steve's conflicted and difficult relationship with his role as Captain America.

it's never over (hey orpheus) by romcommie | 12K WIP, 2/?, M

Author's summary: He remembers a song first and then everything else follows, burying him below. Or, Bucky Barnes pieces a life back together with a few choice verses, some duct tape and seventy years worth of spite. Steve Rogers tries very hard to relearn there's a life to be lived in the first place.

Ok, listen up, people! This is a WIP and there are only 2 chapters posted so far, but I haven't felt this absolutely bonkers excited about a post-CA:TWS fic in a long while. We're talking frothing at the mouth here. I have such a massive crush on this fic, it's a bit embarrassing, really. It's one of those fics where you know after just a few paragraphs that you're in very good, very competent hands. The wealth of historical and cultural detail; the way the story shifts/flips/flickers back and forth between time, perspective and narrative levels; the Bucky voice—it's all so well done! I'm so insanely excited to see where the author takes this!

ENJOY!

#catws10 #stucky #stucky fic rec #stucky fic #stucky rec list #steve x bucky #stucky fic recs #steve x bucky fic rec #stevebucky fic rec #stevebucky #my recs #*drops this and runs aways* this rec list nearly gave me an aneurysm. you're welcome!

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astervaleblack · 6 days ago

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DP X Marvel #22

Nick Fury hadn’t known peace in years. Aliens, HYDRA, interdimensional rifts, Tony Stark’s emotional instability—he thought he’d seen it all. That was until a small, gremlin-like twelve-year-old girl phased through the wall of the S.H.I.E.L.D. helicarrier, exploded three vending machines with a casual flick of her wrist, and declared with unshakeable confidence, “You guys owe me a snack for saving the multiverse.”

Her name was Danielle Phantom—Dani, with an “i”—and she was, allegedly, a clone of a ghost-human hybrid from another dimension. She was twelve, made entirely out of spite and ectoplasm, and Nick Fury made the catastrophic mistake of not immediately tossing her into a containment chamber.

Not that it would’ve helped. The last time they tried, she melted the titanium walls by burping.

“She’s not a threat,” Banner had insisted.

“She’s twelve!” Steve argued.

“She called me a rotting rotisserie chicken and set my cape on fire,” Thor grumbled, looking genuinely unsettled.

“She’s perfect,” Tony said. “Can I adopt her?”

“NO,” Fury barked. “She’s mine.”

And that’s how Dani Phantom became Nick Fury’s personal chaos goblin.

It started with the incident in Belarus. Fury had sent her to shadow a low-risk intel extraction mission—get in, get out, observe. She got bored. Two hours later, she returned with the mission completed, three HYDRA bases blown up, and a new trench coat she’d stolen off an agent twice her size. She looked proud. She also had a churro.

“Where the hell did you get that?” Fury asked.

“Multiversal Costco. Long story.”

She ate it while hovering upside down.

Dani didn’t walk. She floated. She didn’t knock. She phased through walls, floors, and sometimes people, which she claimed was “great for making dudes pee themselves.” She kept trying to haunt Clint Barton’s hearing aids (“for funsies”), called Natasha “Murder Barbie,” and threatened to sell Peter to the Tooth Fairy for “a good price.”

“I don’t even have ghost teeth!” Peter shrieked.

“Exactly. You’re rare,” Dani replied ominously.

She made the mistake of touching Loki once. Just once. She’d been told not to.

“Don’t touch the Asgardian,” Fury had said.

“Why not?” she asked.

“Because he’s the God of Mischief.”

“Oh. Cool.”

She poked him.

Loki screamed. She screamed louder. Everyone screamed. For some reason, there were snakes involved by the end of it.

Now, every time Loki sees Dani, he immediately teleports to another continent. “She’s worse than Odin,” he whispers, eyes wide and glassy.

Fury had to admit: Dani got results. She was an absolute menace—a glowing, cackling, miniature poltergeist in ripped jeans and combat boots��but she could sniff out a Kree spy from fifty yards away, beat an Ultron drone with a piece of rebar, and disable alien tech by licking it. (He didn’t approve of that one, but she claimed it was “a ghost thing.”)

“Why do you keep her?” Hill asked him one day, as Dani was in the background convincing a rookie agent that she was a resurrected Soviet weapon.

Fury sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Because the little gremlin saved my life.”

That part was true. He’d been cornered by a Skrull impersonating Agent Coulson, and before he could blink, Dani had flown through the ceiling screaming, “NOT MY BALD DAD, YOU SLIMEY LIZARD BASTARD!” She obliterated the Skrull with a ghost ray and threw Fury over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“You weigh like a thousand pounds!” she’d grunted, struggling to fly him out of danger.

“Put me down!”

“No! You’re grounded and dying on my watch is against the rules!”

It was, somehow, the most competent rescue Fury had ever experienced.

From then on, Dani followed him everywhere. She sat in on briefings, chewing bubblegum obnoxiously loud. She hacked into S.H.I.E.L.D. files just to draw little ghost doodles on top of agent profiles. She replaced the AI’s voice with her own. Every time the intercom came on, it was her:

“Attention all agents, remember to hydrate or I will personally possess you and make you chug milk.”

She terrorized the Avengers with zero remorse. Steve got glitter-bombed. Clint was stalked by a floating sandwich. Banner’s lab notes were mysteriously replaced with eldritch doodles and “Dani was here” scribbled in the margins. Tony found all his Iron Man suits programmed to play “Ghostbusters” every time they powered on.

“I SWEAR TO GOD, IF I HEAR THAT SONG ONE MORE TIME—”

“Who ya gonna call?” Dani whispered from inside the vents.

Tony screamed.

But in her own completely deranged way, she was loyal. Deadly. Protective.

When some alien parasite tried to mind-control Fury, Dani showed up mid-briefing, opened her mouth, and screamed—a full-on ghost wail that shattered the windows and disintegrated the creature instantly.

Silence.

Everyone stared.

Dani wiped her mouth and grinned. “Oops. Was that loud?”

Fury was on the floor, bleeding from the ears. “You think?”

Later, she brought him noise-canceling earmuffs with skull stickers. “For next time.”

Fury eventually stopped questioning it. He’d wake up and find her floating three inches above his bed.

“Sleep check,” she’d say.

“I am very awake now.”

“Good.”

She haunted meetings, stole alien artifacts to make jewelry, and referred to Maria Hill exclusively as “General Mom.” She threatened to possess Tony’s coffee machine and did it. It only made decaf for three months. He cried.

And somehow, Dani ended up as the unofficial child mascot of S.H.I.E.L.D.

She was terrifying.

She was beloved.

She bit Deadpool once. He cried.

And yet, when Fury got taken by a rogue faction of former S.W.O.R.D. agents trying to expose classified data, the first person to show up wasn’t Steve, or Natasha, or even Carol.

It was Dani.

She burst in mid-interrogation, glowing, floating, and furious. Her eyes blazed green. Her ponytail whipped behind her like a comet trail. She didn’t say anything.

She just started throwing people.

“YOU THINK YOU CAN KIDNAP MY DAD?!” she screamed, hurling a desk at someone’s face. “I live in his walls! I KNOW THINGS!”

“You’re not even related to me!” Fury yelled as she fried a guy with ectoplasmic lightning.

“I TOOK A BLOOD TEST ONLINE AND IT SAID I’M 78% NICK FURY, 22% CHICKEN NUGGET!”

“You WHAT?!”

She ghost-punched the lead agent into the ceiling, caught Fury by the collar, and flew him out of the crumbling compound as everything exploded behind them.

When they landed, she wiped the soot from his coat, then hugged him hard.

He stood there stiffly before awkwardly patting her head.

“You’re insane,” he muttered.

“Thanks, Dad.”

“I’m not your—”

“Too late. I already wrote it in my diary.”

Later, at S.H.I.E.L.D. HQ, Dani threw her feet up on the command table and declared, “This whole place is my haunted house now.”

Nobody argued.

The AI was programmed to greet her.

The agents stepped aside when she passed.

She had a personal couch that she’d painted green and black, and a glowing “NO NERDS” sign that Tony kept trying to steal.

Every so often, she disappeared into the multiverse. “Gotta stretch the legs,” she’d say, then come back two hours later with three infinity stones, a new jacket, and a baby goat.

Fury didn’t ask.

He learned not to ask.

But when the next alien invasion hit—when half of Manhattan lit up with something eldritch and writhing and very not-from-Earth—it wasn’t Thor who responded first.

It was Dani.

Hovering above Times Square, cracking her knuckles, eyes glowing like nuclear fallout.

“Alright, weird space tentacle thing,” she said. “You just messed with the wrong twelve-year-old.”

And from the helicarrier, sipping his bitter coffee, Nick Fury watched the ghost girl he never asked for absolutely wreck an interdimensional horror, cackling like a goblin while civilians cheered.

He sighed.

“God help us all.”

#danny fenton #danny phantom #dp x marvel #danny phantom fanfiction #marvel mcu #mcu #marvel #mcu fandom #crossover #danny phantom fandom #marvel fanfic #mcu fanfiction #nick fury #agents of shield #dani fenton #dani phantom

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suzukiblu · 14 days ago

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Thank-you sentences for u-h-h-g-h behind the cut; "Tucker is having a normal one". (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“So like, what happens when they take the glasses off?” Playboo Centerfold asks. “We got a backup plan for that?”

“Yeah, don’t sweat it, they literally never do that, ‘cuz then they couldn’t see ghosts,” Tucker replies, still very urgently trying to get his brain back online with . . . very limited success, he is not gonna lie. Zero success, one might say. Un-success, even.

“. . . as in the fake hacker ghosts that are fake and hacked?” Haunted Sex Symbol asks skeptically. “Those ghosts?”

“No, like, literally any ghost whatsoever,” Tucker clarifies. “None of the GIW’s agents are even a little bit liminal. Actually if you test at all ‘ecto-contaminated’ they not only won’t hire you, they’ll probably lock you up.”

“. . . huh?” Spectrally Spicy asks, looking way confused.

“Oh, yeah, ghosts are actually like a real actual thing–like I don’t know how in the loop you are here but it seems to be a limited amount, so yeah–but like, not-dead people can’t see them,” Tucker says. “Like it’s fine if you’re mostly alive, but you do also have to be, like, at least a little bit dead. Like just one drop of dead, never mind my shitty choice of phrasing there. But yeah I swear I’m not a crazy person, or at least I’m not making this up: ghosts are actually a real actual thing and the GIW wears the glasses ‘cuz they can’t see ‘em without ‘em and they don’t wanna get turned into ghost-kibble. Because ghosts are actually a real actual thing, I swear.”

“No, yeah, obviously ghosts are real,” Poltergeist Porn Star says, rolling his eyes like he thinks Tucker’s being ridiculous. Which is admittedly sort of a relief but is also sort of annoying, because look, Tucker is speaking from experience here and the “experience” is that nobody outside Amity Park ever just believes you about frickin’ ghosts being frickin’ real, okay? “But like I have seen ghosts before, and I was definitely not dead at the time?”

“That is crazy fascinating and I wanna hear all about it over that coffee later,” Tucker says, because even if Honey-Haunt is being a little bit annoying right now, he still looks like the second coming of Elvira, so Tucker is magnanimously willing to forgive that. Though he does make a mental note about that “at the time” in there. Like, just that might explain some things in this situation, maybe. “But generally yeah, no, you gotta be dead or dead-adjacent enough to count to see ‘em, thus the glasses and all the tech contained therein.”

“Your glasses don’t look like theirs at all, though,” Mister Right Now says with a frown.

“That would be because I don’t need tech to see ghosts, I just need it to see farther than three feet in front of my face,” Tucker replies matter-of-factly.

“. . . wait, are you dead?” Big Boo asks, squinting doubtfully at him.

“Like literally or percentage-wise?” Tucker asks. “‘Cuz either way the answer is ‘enough to count’, but yeah.”

“Oh, okay,” the Spirit of Naughty Penthouse Letters Past says.

Well cool, then, dude took all that real well, Tucker figures. That’s convenient. Like very convenient and very helpful, too. Usually the “convincing people he’s not insane” part takes up a lot more time.

Though it is real friggin’ weird the guy apparently just . . . could see ghosts already, somehow? Like obviously now that he’s had the ecto-spa treatment he’s gotta be ecto-contaminated enough to, but that should very much not have been a thing pre-ecto-spa treatment. Like it very much should not have, yeah.

Though if it was a thing, well–yeah, that’s another thing that might explain some things in this situation, maybe.

So yeah Tucker is very much gonna need that coffee date to chat it up on that one. That is just very much gonna have to be a thing.

#dpxdc #data enkrypton #tucker foley #kon el #conner kent #superboy #wip: tucker is having a normal one #u-h-h-g-h

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drarryspecificrecs · 2 months ago

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H/D Career Fair 2023 : (fics only)

@hd-fan-fair || official masterpost || AO3 || stats : 43 works The Mods : @phoenix-acid & @sassy-cissa Banner © :

@creeeee (official banner)

@pato-roldnart's Close observation (x) Harry: Pet Sitter | Draco: Wizarding Wildlife Illustrator

@pinkelephant42's In Life & Death Harry: Master of Death | Draco: Master of Life

—

All the Good Things and the Bad Things that May Be by @meandminniemcg [E, 10k] Harry: Public Speaker | Draco: Sex Educator

Another Side by @flightinflame [T, 2k] Harry: Nursery Teacher | Draco: Single Dad

Blood Tainted Fingertips by @poison-literature [M, 7k] Harry: Private Investigator | Draco: Serial Killer

Californian Calcite by @moonpeachh [M, 30k] Harry: Client/Trophy boyfriend | Draco: Jeweler

Can’t Pretend by @meloflavor [G, 2k] Harry: Stalker | Draco: English Teacher

A Competitive Cooperation by @dysonrules [T, 20k] Harry: Architect | Draco: Interior Designer

Connecting Lines, Connecting Crimes by @sleepstxtic [M, 15k] Harry: Magi-Geographer | Draco: Cartologist

Death is Not Fit to House a Love by @starlitsilvereyes [E, 20k] Harry: Hit Wizard | Draco: Politician

Full Fathom Five by @sitaz [E, 17k] Harry: Quidditch Coach | Draco: Professional Mermaid

if the bees know by @oflights [T, 19k] Harry: Ghostbuster | Draco: Runes Translator

Just Take Me Home by @phoebe-delia [T, 4k] Harry: Curse-Breaker | Draco: Designated Apparator

Launch me to Ultralife by SquibNation10 [T, 38k] Harry: Gardener / Astronaut | Draco: Astrophysicist

Let's Get Physical by @ravenesse [E, 10k] Harry: Gym Owner/Personal Trainer | Draco: Freelancer

My Own Personal Poltergeist by @maraudersaffair [E, 11k] Harry: Hitwizard | Draco: Crime Scene Cleaner

Once More To Arcady by @apricitydays-lazynights [E, 32k] Harry: Shepherd | Draco: Unspeakable

Playing for Keeps by @peachpety [G, 6k] Harry: Man of Leisure | Draco: Owl Postmaster

Playing Quiddick by xErised [E, 11k] Harry: Quidditch Commentator/Analyst on the WWN | Draco: Quidditch Player

The Plot by tigersilver [T, 15k] Harry: Department of Magical Transportation Agent | Draco: MOM Apprentice - Misuse of Muggle Artefacts

port in a storm by @saltwatergarden [M, 8k] Harry: Curse-Breaker | Draco: Hotelier

Scanning the Skies by Enchanted_Jae [T, 3k] Harry: UFO hunter | Draco: UFO hunter

The Scent of Soft Rains by @dodgerkedavra [E, 20k] Harry: Dragonologist | Draco: Magical Prosthetist

The Sinful Serpent by @rei382 [T, 11k] Harry: Private Investigator | Draco: Stripper

Ten Visits to Fire and Flight: The World of Dragons by @sandervansunshine [E, 17k] Harry: Radio Show Co-Host | Draco: Museum Department Head

Terminal Lucidity by @romaine2424 [G, 3k] Harry: End-of-Life Specialist | Draco: (none)

The Thread that Binds Us by @bubble-gumhead [T, 22k] Harry: Rune Inscriptor | Draco: Pattern Maker for Clothes

To have a Home by @myaulophobia [E, 127k] Harry: Homeless | Draco: Muggle Lawyer (Solicitor)

WanderFull Fit by @resilientkitteh [E, 6k] Harry: Sex Toy Maker | Draco: Sex Toy Tester

Wherever You Go, There You Are by harrows [E, 12k] Harry: Founder of a Nonprofit Organisation | Draco: Muggle Yoga Instructor

Within You Without You by @arminaa8 [E, 39k] Harry: Ministry Advisor | Draco: Mind Healer

A Year In The Life by @ladderofyears [M, 19k] Harry: Broomstick Salesman | Draco: Book Salesman

—

#drarry #drarry fanfic #drarry fic rec #harry potter #draco malfoy #masterlist #2023

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g1rld1ary · 1 year ago

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just blurry ; anthony lockwood x reader

➻ synopsis: you accidentally get lockwood drunk and have to walk him home from the pub where his drunk rambles disguise real feelings

➻ word count: 1264

➻ warnings: getting drunk

➻ had my first uni orientation today!! made a friend :)

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Since you and the rest of Lockwood & Co had turned eighteen, you all loved a good drink after a case. It eased all sorts of pain inflicted during your missions — physical and emotional. Whilst you mostly drank together at home because of the bizarre hours you usually worked, when it was appropriate you’d all taken to a quaint little pub named The King’s Court. It was only a few blocks from Portland Row which was ideal for getting home in the middle of the night, and almost always had a table for the four of you. Plus, you were pretty sure George had a crush on one of the bartenders, but you couldn’t be certain.

Tonight was one of the nights you’d wrapped up a case early enough for you to get a seat, but that didn’t mean it was an easy fight. It was a particularly aggressive poltergeist, your personal least favourite ghost to face. Invisible and aggressive, someone almost always ended up getting hurt. Tonight was no exception. Lucy had been gifted a rather long — but thankfully shallow — cut all the way up her arm, and the rest of you were physically exhausted from fighting. Yet when Lockwood cheerfully suggested the pub, no one had the heart to disagree with him.

You’d all had a bit to drink, which made Lockwood giggly, George loud and Lucy tired. You personally felt fine, not having had quite as much as the others. One of you had to be able to get the key into the front door, you figured.

George and Lucy left first, George becoming transfixed on her injury despite her protests, and wouldn’t rest until he was allowed to bandage it up. You’d stayed with Lockwood after he’d whined about wanting to stay out later, in a way not unlike a petulant child. You didn’t mind though, he was always fun to talk to — even more when he was drunk and giggly.

You gossiped for a while, Lockwood telling you stories of adventures the company had been on before meeting you, and in turn you told him about growing up in your own small town and the small group of friends you had out there. Lockwood, on top of his perfect eloquence, was also a great listener. You found yourself spilling secrets without even meaning to, spurred on by his eyes locked on yours, slightly glazed over with admiration as you spoke.

Without realising it the two of you had stayed until closing, and the last bartender working waved you out apologetically, a sympathetic glance to you as you supported Lockwood’s weight. You apologised for the both of you staying so late and tried to coax Lockwood into working with you, dragging his stumbling frame down the street. You really should have cut him off a few drinks ago.

While the rest of his body worked at half speed, Lockwood’s mouth was running at a million miles a minute. He blabbered on about whatever came to mind; the weather, what he might have for breakfast, an argument he was having with George before. You listened dutifully — there wasn’t much else to do while you struggled under his weight.

Taking a break you pushed Lockwood up against a ghost lamp, two hands on his shoulders both to pin him upright and take the pressure off your poor legs. Usually when you were carrying an injured agent you had assistance, and Lockwood was rather tall and gangly, making for a very awkward trip. However comfortable the position was for you, it did put your faces very close together.

You and Lockwood were inadvertently gazing into each other’s eyes as you caught your breath, and he suddenly noticed all the variation of shades in your irises. He looked down at you in utter amazement, all the minuscule details he’d never had the chance to see before coming into focus.

“You’re really pretty,” He breathed, a moment of tense silence hung between you, the only sound the faint buzzing of the lamps. And then Lockwood giggled, light and airy and ridiculous enough to dissolve whatever moment between you had been beginning.

“Alright, it’s time we get home,” You said, disregarding his previous statement, but Lockwood wasn’t having it. As you both stumbled home he couldn’t be silenced.

“No, I really mean it! You’re so pretty. Your eyes and your hair and your face, when you stick your tongue out to concentrate…” You didn’t know anyone noticed that. “Plus, you’re so funny. And nice. And you always put up with my stupidity. You’re so great.” If you didn’t know better you could have sworn you’d seen little hearts floating above his head.

“You’re really drunk right now,” You settled on replying, “I don’t think you’re gonna remember any of this tomorrow.”

“I’m not drunk at all! You’re just blurry.” Without even looking at Lockwood you knew exactly what expression he had on. Seeing the charming, lopsided grin would only heighten your own feelings further and so you locked your gaze down the street, where Portland Row seemed both so close and yet so far. You entertained his gushing until you made it to the doorstep, where you were grateful for the excuse to put distance between you. You weren’t sure how much longer you could resist him when he was saying such sweet things while pressed up to your side.

You finally sent him up to his bedroom with a promise to go tuck him in in a minute (you weren’t sure if he was joking or just got really honest when drunk), and headed off to the kitchen, fetching him a glass of water and some painkillers.

Knocking lightly on his door you found Lockwood sitting cross legged on his bed, absolutely adorable in his worn out pyjamas. He looked up at you again with those eyes and you imagined that was what a younger, more innocent Lockwood might have looked like all the time. Your heart ached for a moment when you thought about it, a quick yearning for a time when the both of you could have been just kids. You shook the thought off as soon as it came, aware of Lockwood watching and analysing your expressions.

“Well, come on then, get in bed,” You said, and Lockwood clambered under the sheets in a way that made you laugh softly. “If I only knew it would be this easy to get you to go to sleep, I would have gotten you pissed a lot sooner.” Lockwood only smiled, shaking his head.

“If you want me to go to sleep you just have to ask, I’ll do anything for you.” You hesitated for a moment at his confession, but wrote it off as drunk ramblings. You needed it to not mean anything to push back the warmth glowing inside your chest.

“Goodnight, Lockwood. Come get me if you need anything.” You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek before you could talk yourself out of it. The second your face retracted from his Lockwood’s hand was touching his cheek, a dumb smile creeping onto his lips.

You were out the door before he could respond, but standing outside to regain your composure, you could definitely hear his inebriated giggle through the door and smiled softly. He might be a drunk idiot, but you guessed he was pretty cute like that.

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itrustinskully · 27 days ago

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My contributions for the Lockwood & Co. merch ideas (I wasn't sure if there were any limits, so I just said them all in order of my favourites)

- a diary/planner that's in the style of an agent's casebook

-as some possible extras to above -> urgency of tasks can be ordered according to ghost level, e.g., low = shades, high = poltergeists. (Questionable) motivational character quotes or doodles can be added for each month. Lucy's doodles, George's recipes, Holly's cleaning tips, etc. can be added as page decorations

- skull in the jar as a desk lamp/glow in the dark, or a medium storage container (e.g., detachable skull cap to store jewellery)

- rapier hair pin (like current sword hairpins), lockyle necklace?

- stickers or prints of some of the book chapter arts (within copyright laws)

- a coaster that acts as a mini thinking cloth (one side could feature show designs while the reverse is plain for some diy)

- pins for groups (e.g., Deprac, L&C, Fittes, Rotwell, also the biscuit rule as a cheeky one)

- character mini plushies (chibi versions), keychains or standees (would love a group standee version too if possible)

#LockwoodMerch #lockwood and co #official merch ideas

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toynbeck · 5 months ago

Note

u have like .. really good taste in media , so do u have any movie recommendations ?

my top favorites right now (in order)

1. I Saw The TV Glow (heartwrenching "coming-of-age"/psychological horror/wait.. he's "coming-of-age" so quickly--? Time wasn't right. It was moving too fast. I was 19, then I was 20, then I was 21. Like chapters skipped over on a DVD. I told myself, this isn't normal. This isn't normal. This isn't how life is supposed to feel. I thought about r-- really good movie if you haven't seen it already)

2. Possessor (trippy, violent sci-fi psychological horror. i wrote a song about this one. ive seen it around 5 times now and not a day goes by where i don't think of it.)

3. The Poughkeepsie Tapes (50% satirical mockumentary commentating on how america glorifies its serial killers, 50% found-footage horror, you'll need to look up warnings for this one [or just ask me, ive seen it 4 times, i can give you in-depth CW's without spoilers].)

4. Horse Girl (a girl's spiraling descent into conspiracy. trippy, mystery thriller)

other favorites in no specific order

• Antiviral (another Brandon Cronenberg film, sci-fi thriller, taking parasocial relationships to a whole new level)

• The PowerPuff Girls Movie (underrated and one of my favorite PPG-related things ever next to the now-banned rock opera episode, See Me Feel Me Gnomey)

• Longlegs (paranormal mystery horror film, an FBI agent gets more than she bargained for when delving into a new case. ASK ME ABOUT OZ PERKINS AND NICHOLAS CAGE'S PERSONAL CONNECTION TO THIS FILM AND HOW IT SAVED THE FILM ITSELF FOR ME AND MADE IT GO FROM "A WEE BIT DISAPPOINTING BUT STILL GOOD" TO "TOP FAVORITE" BECAUSE OF HOW IT IMPACTED THE WAY I VIEW IT... IF YOU DARE..)

• Catsoup (silent japanese cartoon, short film, you can find it on youtube! two cats go on a magical, somewhat dark, adventure. visually stunning)

• The Brave Little Toaster (the only disney film that will ever grace my favorites list. incredible. the anthropomorphization of objects is stellar, the characters i could go on and on about-- and the songs are fucking great. shoutout to mass car suicide [Worthless]. also this movie inspired one of my OC stories [Curtain Call].)

• I'm Thinking Of Ending Things (adaptation of my favorite book, very different from the book but i think it brings some excellent things to the table and tells it in a very cool way. psychological thriller, mystery. Jesse Plemons is in it, they grabbed him off the set of Breaking Bad and forgot to tell him he wasn't still playing Todd. [< compliment])

• Baby Driver (anyone who hates this movie doesn't know how to have fun. action-comedy, incredible soundtrack that is SYNCED TO THE HAPPENINGS IN THE FILM, main character is an autistic CODA who i love very much, i have a deep personal connection with this movie because of the person i watched it with and the impact it had on us.)

• I Don't Feel At Home In This World Anymore (action-comedy, crime, awkward girl and her awkward neighbor [who just met her but would kill and die for her] get in over their heads trying to retrieve a stolen laptop.)

• Poltergeist (1982, my ma's favorite horror film and one of mine too. paranormal, visually stunning, the practical effects are so fucking cool. also im decently sure it was inspired by Little Girl Lost, an episode of The Twilight Zone, because it's like a more fleshed-out version of that concept.)

• Home Movie (2008, it's on youtube, i can't remember if it's like overall good but it's the only instance thus far in which i think the "evil child" trope is done well so it makes my favorites list)

• Whiplash (ARE YOU RUSHING OR ARE YOU DRAGGING?!)

• Nightcrawler (crime thriller, guy's spiraling descent into abandoning all morals for the sake of his obsessive new project, and the gripping horrific ways that this choice affects those around him)

• Dread (2009, violent horror, guy's spiraling descent into abandoning all morals for the sake of his obsessive new project, and the gripping horrific ways that this choice affects those around him)

• Raggedy Ann And Andy : A Musical Adventure (on youtube, an animated childhood favorite that still holds up. shoutout to the blue camel)

aaaand some others im prooobably forgettinggg..? tried to include a bit of as many genres i could think of, since most of my favorites are horror :)

#jeepers speak #answered

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blindbatalex · 7 months ago

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I hung out with @k-ky all day and she literally activated the sleeper carraville agent that lives inside my brain at all times. I really and truly do not have time to start on a whole new WIP right now, so please enjoy this little 1k teaser in the meanwhile.

By the time Jamie parked the car and trudged to the house, the front door was already open with Gary looming behind. Between the dusk falling quietly outside and the hallway light he had not bothered to turn on, the way he would not meet Jamie’s eyes, he resembled a ghost. Jamie ignored the raw spot the thought touched in his chest—the still too fresh panic a call from the hospital saying that your friend collapsed tends to inspire.

“Traffic was mad.” He chuckled as he walked in. It sounded strained and echoed ominously in Gary’s minimalist, unpleasant house. “I should have honestly taken the train.”

Honestly, if Gary had died and come back as a ghost, he would be a poltergeist. An annoying, self-righteous, argumentative poltergeist that drives property values down by his sheer potential to drive any people unfortunate enough to buy the house up the wall. Neither did he bother to so much as crane his neck to look at Jamie as he led them into the bowels of the house.

“Thought you’d changed your mind.”

Jamie rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well, it was a close thing,” he huffed, and regretted it instantly when Gary’s step faltered. It was a fucking joke. After everything they have been through, did he, could he think–

And while he meant no disrespect to the witches, Jamie struggled to understand why they had to drag him into the curse they rightfully wanted to cast upon Gary. Bloody hell. “But if you died, who would I rib after every time United bottle yet another game?”

With that they reached the living room. Gary sat down on the sofa and for the first time since Jamie came in, deigned to meet his eyes. It wasn’t just the light, he definitely looked haggard. His ugly face pale and with deep bruises under his eyes. He wasn’t happy either, judging by the thin line of his mouth.

If anything I am shocked that it took you this long to get yourself cursed, the way you carry on, was what Jamie wanted to say but someone needed to be the adult in the room so he held his tongue, choosing to plop himself down on the sofa next to Gary instead. He wrapped a firm arm around Gary’s shoulder and popped his feet on the coffee table.

“Get your feet down,” was all the thanks Gary could be bothered to give, alongside a vicious poke at his ankle with his big toe.

“No, you get your feet up.”

“I don’t know how you live in Bootle, but we for one have standards here–”

“No, you idiot, we ought to maximise the surface area, innit?”

“You mean–?”

“Press our legs together, yeah.”

Whatever little colour there was in Gary’s face drained at Jamie’s words. It was daft—it was so mind-bogglingly daft that Jamie had no words for it—but then again, they were ex-footballers for God’s sake. They had spent 30-odd years watching their teammates strut around naked in the showers, getting pulled into hugs and shoving and, in Gary’s case, cuddling up with Beckham to watch telly. Sure the two of them did not hug, and Jamie did not cuddle with blokes, but given they were where they were, neither was there any reason for—this. To act like petulant children. Or prisoners on death row.

Jamie glared at him, withdrawing his arm.

“I’m sorry, do you want to die?”

Not really, but I want to cuddle with you even less, the dark look that crossed Gary’s face seemed to say.

The git. He just had to be so stubborn about everything, make life as difficult as possible for whoever was trying to give him a hand.

Jamie closed his eyes, breathing through his nose to try and get a lid on the anger he felt burning in every cell of his body. Honestly, who in their right mind would pick an argument for example with a coven of witches on the definition of what constituted witchcraft in the first place?

But when he explained the curse, and what seemed to keep Gary alive, his mum had smiled and said– he is lucky to have a friend like you then, isn’t he? And Beckham, who for some reason felt he had the right to give Jamie a call, let alone to order him around, had said– cut him some slack will you, it’s a bit awkward for him. And yeah, if Jamie put himself in Gary’s shoes, he could see why having to–

“Look,” he said through gritted teeth, his eyes still shut. “I don’t like this either but you are my friend and I happen to care about you. You scared the hell out of me, Gary. And if this is what we have to do to manage until we find a way to break the curse, I’d–” His voice betrayed him, crushed under the weight of a singular truth. Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes and looked at Gary. “I’d do anything, alright? And I think you’d do the same for me, if our places were swapped. So.”

Gary nodded, very faintly. Is it so awful, Jamie wondered, having to cuddle with me that you made me say all of that out loud? Even at the hospital, when he was quite out of it, he had tried to protest, to push him away. Said, I can’t.

“Take off your shoes.”

Cut him some slack. Yeah.

Jamie did as he was told. Besides, for one of the few times in his life, he wasn’t sure he had any more words in him left. Gary was already taking off his own.

When he was done he put his feet up on the coffee table and Jamie followed suit, shifting closer towards him to bring their bodies flush against one another. With one hand he turned the telly on while the other arm he wrapped around Gary’s shoulder again. Gary for his part even made a tiny effort to lean into the touch this time, whether from guilt or self-preservation, Jamie could not tell.

All these years they’d known each other—and Jamie could count the number of times they hugged on one hand. In Valencia, after that defeat, once. Once when Jamie had been hammered out of his mind in London—though that was more Gary taking on his weight as he half-carried Jamie back to the hotel than anything else. He’d been warm beside him then, too, like he was now, strong, a little soft, just—good.

The two of them fit. There was no use thinking about that. They certainly did not fit in this way. He could smell Gary’s aftershave, feel his shoulders rise and fall with each breath. It felt awful--a force threatening to rip apart the walls of his cells.

No wonder, he thought, no fucking wonder.

Next time, he would make sure to get laid before coming over, so his body would not mistake affection, at once mechanical and friendly, for genuine desire.

For Gary N.eville?

Come on.

#carraville #my fic #i just had to get this out of my system - i have a 10k chapter of another fic I need to work on tomorrow 😭#but carraville truly is forever #one is never free of it for good #i want to come back to this and write the full thing so bad

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rogueddie · 2 years ago

Text

Ghost Steddie Fics

Important: READ THE TAGS! Also, leave a comment and kudos! These fics are amazing and I love them and I hope y'all do too 👻

That's one romantic poltergeist.

Appledagger

t's been three weeks. Everybody in Hawkins is coping in their own way and Steve Harrington is no exception. But coping might not be the word that describes what he is doing.

"Steve, do you believe in ghosts?"

Words : 94,643 Chapters : 17/17 Rating : Mature

AO3 : x

Sometimes You Scare me (but I Come around to You)

Capriciously_Terminal

Steve Harrington clearly had a thing about this abandoned mall. Which, like, fair. Most people probably had a thing about this mall. That was why the two of them were in said mall (let in by the real estate agent who spiked to camera each time they asked her cursory questions about if she’d seen anything or how many people had come in to poke around) poking trashcans and looking for ghosts.

Eddie’s looking for ghosts for the cash and the chance to take a photo with one to show Wayne. It would be the kind of thing Eddie would keep in his wallet (which was mostly empty because as it turned out ghost-hunting wasn’t great for cash).

Steve Harrington, meanwhile, is an enigma wrapped in tight little polos.

Words : 2,189 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : General Audiences

AO3 : x

Ever get the feeling that you're never all alone

Anonymous

When Steve goes to the old moldy girls bathroom everyone avoids to summon a ghost, he is hoping for a supernatural solution that will help him get over his ex.

The plan was NOT to fall in love with said ghost instead. Fuck.

Words : 9,041 Chapters : 4/4 Rating : General Audiences

AO3 : x

the ghost of you

MentallyUndone

Eddie has been seeing ghosts for a while now and there's one ghost in particular that has been incessant in seeking him out. It's almost like they think he's the answer to all of their problems, but you really can't bring someone back from the dead (even though they're always asking for the miracle itself).

Words : 2,272 Chapters : 2/2 Rating : Not Rated

AO3 : x

i met your ghost (he followed me)

hexiewrites

Steve Harrington was losing his mind.

At least, he's pretty sure that’s what was happening, considering he kept seeing the ghost of a boy he let die, and it was starting to drive him actually crazy, in the Pennhurst kind of way.

Except.

Except he’d also always been a little bit gullible, always willing to jump into danger, to look at a situation that probably would be crazy and instead of turning and running, to drive right in. So instead of dealing with the ghost the way one probably should (which is to ignore it and maybe buy some holy water) Steve does the opposite.

And Eddie Munson, who is pretty sure he is not a ghost, is, as always, really fucking glad he does.

Words : 30,267 Chapters : 7/7 Rating : Explicit

AO3 : x

A Ghost In Your Mirror Is Worth Two On Your Couch

ForevermoreNevermore

Steve has the unmitigated gall to not only haunt Eddie, but look pretty handsome doing it. He also maybe fills him on on the unimaginable terrors occupying the small town of Hawkins, but that's besides the point.

Words : 4,780 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen and Up Audiences

AO3 : x

Ghosts of Music Past

kissmejusttokissme

There is a ghost living in Dustin’s Garage and only Steve can see him.

Words : 1,714 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen and Up Audiences

AO3 : x

love is like ghosts

kkpwnall

They stand at the base of a short flight of stairs leading up to the old university library. From everything Steve’s read, it’s one of the most haunted places in Indiana… within a tank of gas’ drive… that would let them in after hours.

“It’s the witching hour,” Eddie says spookily. He’s come up behind Steve, pressing close and wiggling his fingers on Steve’s shoulders.

Steve huffs a laugh and starts double checking his pockets for his share of the gear. Something to focus on that’s not the way Eddie’s breath ruffles his hair and skims over his cheek, raising goosebumps in its wake.

It’s not like he doesn’t like the attention, the closeness, the physicality of Eddie. He does. Probably too much. Especially since they’re just friends. Steve knows he’s not special to be on the receiving end, it’s how Eddie is with everyone.

Words : 7,780 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Mature

AO3 : x

scar-crossed lovers.

througheden

He knows Steve won’t hear him, and imagines that he won’t feel him, but he hops down from the roof and stands in front of him anyways, directly between Steve and their friends looking on, and wraps translucent arms around his shoulders. He hugs him the best he can, the way he should’ve when they split up for the battle that would eventually kill him.

“I’m so sorry, Steve. I’m so, so sorry.”

He doesn’t feel the warmth he knows he would’ve had he stuck to the plan and been brave enough to hug Steve in victory, rather than in mourning.

Words : 3,571 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Mature

AO3 : x

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #fic rec #ficrec

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