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Unplugged
written for the August @steddiemicrofic prompt 'plug' !
wc: 437 | rated: G | cw: none | tags: established relationship, famous!Eddie
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"Okay! This is a little out of the norm, but it's kinda important."
Steve stood amidst the crowd of fans at the Corroded Coffin concert (he preferred to be in the fray, not backstage) and blinked at his boyfriend, front man Eddie Munson. Corroded Coffin's rise had been fast, meteoric and Steve had suddenly become as famous as the band.
"But, well, it's kinda mine and Steve's anniversary," Eddie said.
Steve blushed when the entire audience cooed - Eddie'd been adamant that he wasn't going to hide his and Steve's relationship - Steve had been a bit concerned, but the fans had embraced him and Eddie's relationship wholeheartedly.
"But, I'm gonna unplug for a second." Eddie crossed the stage, set his electric guitar down and took the acoustic guitar a roadie handed him.
"Oh Eddie," Steve whispered. "What are you doing?"
Eddie strummed the guitar for a moment and the whole crowd waited with bated breath. Then he started singing and Steve couldn't help but laugh … and cry. Bryan Adams' "Heaven" sounded through the venue and as Steve looked around, he saw the hardest of rockers tearing up and hugging their significant others.
" … Oh, once in your life you find someone Who will turn your world around Bring you up when you're feelin' down
Yeah, nothin' could change what you mean to me Oh, there's lots that I could say But just hold me now 'Cause our love will light the way …"
"You amazing, adorable, idiot," Steve said, blowing Eddie a kiss and wiping the tears from his face.
"… And, baby, you're all that I want When you're lyin' here in my arms I'm findin' it hard to believe We're in heaven
Yeah, love is all that I need And I found it there in your heart It isn't too hard to see We're in heaven …"
Steve pushed his way through the crowds over to security and was immediately let through. Steve ran up, and then on stage just as Eddie had finished the song and barely managed to wait for Eddie to pass the acoustic guitar before launching himself at his boyfriend.
"I fucking love you," Steve breathed, peppering Eddie's face with kisses.
"Happy anniversary, baby," Eddie murmured. "Had to go big."
"You did not," Steve replied. "But I love you for it. And signing Bryan Adams for me? That's real love coming from my favorite metalhead."
The entire crowd let out a collective 'awww' and Steve turned to look at the crowd.
"Oh hi." Steve waved at the audience.
"Happy Anniversary!" the crowd yelled.
"Love you, baby," Eddie whispered.
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“Oscar, this might be beneficial for you to see,” one of the many people milling around the garage say. Oscar, fresh from another interview he’s done feeling red raw inside, isn’t expecting to turn and see Lando already studying the screen. A wave of relief crashes over him, even though he knew hospital was just a precaution.
The first thing he spots as he slides into the cramped space next to Lando is the hospital bracelet. Oscar’s eyes lock onto it, the crude way it isn’t fluro yellow or papaya with beads that spell sassy.
Gauging his presence, Lando stops fiddling with his beard and slumps slightly against him.
Lando glances at Oscar, then back at the screen with the ghost of a smile on his face as Oscar’s thumb moves his hospital tag up his arm, and his fingers wrap around his wrist, solid against his pulse.
Oscar can feel his heart rate decelerating and matching the pulse thrumming under his fingertips as they both stare at the screen and take in the rest of the data.
When they’re done, Oscar hovers close, not wanting to leave Lando until he knows he’s really okay. He’s so close Lando, turns and accidentally treads on his toes and he lets out a very manly yelp.
“Sorry,” the Brit says automatically, amused until he must clock the stress on the rookie’s face. Lando’s eyes soften, “I’m all good, Osc.”
Oscar blinks, and bites his lip, “That’s what you said on the radio, and you weren’t.”
“C’mere,” Lando sighs, wrapping his arms around Oscar’s dainty waist. Oscar’s arms encircle Lando, slightly tighter than a winded hospital escapee should be held. “I’m better than that shitty grid drive car of yours,” Lando mumbles against his neck and feels more than hears Oscar chuckle lightly against his chest.
#landoscar#mctwinks#wrote this in 10 minutes#comment fic#all mistakes are because it is very late/early where I am#yeah I had feelings about this
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thinking again about this one bbc sherlock comment-fic i read once from the comments section of a livejournal post that i can't find anymore, but i think about basically all the time
so in the first episode of bbc sherlock, when these two cops sally donovan and philip anderson are introduced, sherlock has an exchange to this effect with anderson:
sherlock: I see your wife's out of town anderson: how'd you know? sherlock: your deodorant told me. it's for men. anderson: of course it's for men--I'm wearing it sherlock: so is sergeant donovan. and i'm guessing she scrubbed your floors going by the state of her knees.
anyway the fic was set the previous night, and the premise was that anderson had severe ocd that only the presence of his wife could really soothe for him, so since his wife was out of town, it was flaring up really bad.
thus donovan had come over to help him settle his ocd, but she couldn't, because she's not the kind of person who knows what to say in that situation, so instead she just helped him scrub his already clean floors, and hoped that it really helped and he wasn't just saying it helped to make her feel better
and i don't know, i think about this fic all the time. donovan on her knees next to anderson, not knowing the right words to say, just being there and scrubbing those already pristine floors, and hoping that it helps at least a little,
gosh, i'm tearing up again thinking about it
my own bbc sherlock fic has more than 10,000 kudos, but it's empty candy, and honestly kind of silly if you think about it, not to mention way ooc (it's crack fic, so this is mostly intentional)
but this little comment-fic someone probably wrote in a few minutes that i read on an LJ comment section once has stuck with me for more than a decade
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First comment fic challenge has been posted in H50 community!!!!! Let's gooooooooooo!!!!!!💃🕺💃🕺💃🕺
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Rolling stock (ficlet, T)
Summary: Short comment fic in response to @logicgunn's statement that life will not be complete "until someone writes a ficlet where Lorne kneels like a badass on the top of a moving train and shoots down Wraith darts with an AT-4," (thank you for the prompt!) with a couple of small details for @twotales
"That is," Evan pauses, and chooses his words carefully, "a terrible plan."
McKay snorts. "What, you'd rather we approach the hive on foot, quietly and carefully, enter it, and set the charges by hand?"
Well yes. He would. Or get a 'jumper or two and drop something from above, despite McKay's dismissals about 'inadequate yields' and 'not enough time to do it properly'.
But driving a slow, half-functional train full of explosives into the side of a downed not disabled Wraith ship – that conveniently landed on the remains of an abandoned rail track? It's like advertising a collective death wish.
So it's nothing new, really. Just a different approach.
They wait while McKay gets the train working again, and Evan knows – he just knows – that this is going to be a clusterfuck.
"Nah, it'll be fun," Ronon says, beside him. "Trains are great."
"I need an extra set of hands over here, could you two quit standing around chit-chatting about your apparent love of trains, what is this, a trainspotting convention?"
Evan sighs, pushes up his sleeves and goes to crouch next to McKay.
++
What the fuck is his life, Evan wonders, as he lies flat against the carriage roof of the battered train. It's moving slowly, reasonably steadily, so at least there's that. He's assuming Ronon has already cleared the tracks of debris because even at this speed if they hit anything –
"—Lorne," he half-hears over his earpiece.
"Say again," he yells.
"Sheppard's tied –" but it's drowned out by the sound of the train and the wind.
He covers his ear with his hand. "Again!"
"Sheppard's tied to the tracks," he hears McKay yell this time.
For fuck's sake. The planet had seemed deserted, long devoid of humans, even if there were old, half-functional pieces of tech lying around. "How?"
"I don't know, some Wraith worshippers came out of nowhere, tied him up, they're saying stop the train or –"
"So stop the fucking train until someone gets him free!"
"I can't! We're stuck on accelerate, do you know what I had to do to even get this thing running, stopping was never going to be the problem, the brakes are shot, and we've got maybe 10 minutes before –"
He tunes McKay out and starts crawling toward the engine, wind pulling at his clothes. Oh, sure. Trains are great. This was a fantastic plan, no problems at all, definitely more efficient than leading a team of eight marines to set charges, so much better than –
"Got him," he hears Ronon say over earpiece. "You can shut up now, McKay."
"And, Major," Sheppard sounds annoyed and also slightly winded, "you've got darts incoming."
Of course he does. "Got it, sir," he replies, gritting his teeth.
++
Evan is kneeling on the roof of the train car. The metal is rough, pebbled, and frankly, it hurts like a bitch to kneel on, and he's not exactly steady up here either.
Ahead he can see the hive, looming and huge – he can imagine the self-repairs happening, the relentless knitting of walls and systems back together, the corridors swarming with impatient, hungry Wraith.
The first two darts out of the hive had been shot down by someone on the ground, but he can see two more coming, heading straight for him, and he's glad the fucking train – which looks like something out of an old west movie – isn't coal-powered, because the smoke would fuck up his aim.
He tucks one foot under a convenient lip of metal in front of him, keeps his other knee pressed against the carriage roof, and hefts the AT-4 to his shoulder. The dart is coming in fast, the train is moving slowly, and Evan aims and fires, watches as the HE projectile – modified to penetrate Wraith tech – hits dead centre.
He grins, tosses the spent AT-4 over the side, and reaches for the other one.
The second shot is just as satisfying as the first.
But they're almost at the hive, and Evan can feel the train picking up speed, just as McKay had planned. The train's horn sounds once, twice, fast and sharp, and fuck, about time. Flattening himself back down to the roof, he shimmies to the end of the carriage, and scrambles down the ladder – it's missing rungs, the edges are sharp, but it doesn't crumble under his hands. He drops from the train, rolling badly as he hits the ground, hard enough to crunch something in his chest, a bright shock of pain.
Fuck.
The train – full of explosives – keeps picking up speed, and he can see it's going to work, it's going to hit the hive and blow the shit out of it, and he's probably too close, and his chest hurts and he can't quite catch his breath, his earpiece has fallen out and he –
"Come on," Ronon says, pulling him up, dragging him behind the remains of a heavy wall and into some kind of culvert. Evan feels the first explosion as much as he hears it, and then there are the second and third ones as the carriages crash into each other. Eventually, Ronon steps up from their shelter, and when he comes back, he's grinning, sharp and happy. "It worked."
Evan nods. “Sheppard?”
Ronon shrugs. “Rope burns but he’s fine.”
“McKay?”
“Rolled off the train into mud. He’s bitching about it.”
Evan can’t help it, he laughs once, then gasps at the bloom of pain across his side.
“Broken ribs, huh?" Ronon helps him up, gets his arm under Evan's shoulder. "Not surprised. You took a pretty badass roll from the train.”
When they get back to the tracks, Ronon stops, jerks his head in the direction of the hive. It’s burning hard and fast, surrounded by smoke, and Evan can smell it, the acrid scents of Wraith tech and alien flesh. Ronon grins at him again. "A train. Explosives. You up there, shooting down darts. It was a decent plan."
Maybe. Because it got the job done. But he isn't going to admit it.
Especially not to McKay.
End.
#trains#major lorne has had it#ronon dex#major lorne#comment fic#not edited#dr rodney mckay#major lorne is a badass
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people telling you they reread your fic is the biggest compliment you could ever receive. there are thousands of stories out there begging to be found, to be explored, but your story meant so much to someone that they came back to it eagerly, they went over every word again. to love is to return and loving a fic is rereading it. thank you to all readers and rereaders <3333
#post sponsored by someone commenting on my newest fic that they reread it only a day after the first time#.text
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DONT BE AFRAID TO COMMENT ON OLD FICS DONT BE AFRAID TO COMMENT ON FICS IN A FANDOM THE AUTHOR MAY NO LONGER BE ACTIVE IN. IF THE STORY IS STILL UP LET THEM KNOW YOUR THOUGHTS IT MIGHT JUST BE THE REMINDER THAT MAKES THEIR DAY.
SINCERELY SOMEONE WHO JUST GOT A REPLY THAT MADE ME WANNA MAKE THIS POST
#reject modern fast fashion fandom culture#comment on shit from 2012 to scare and or delight the author#anytime I see ppl reading my haikyuu fics I wanna cry with happiness#being reminded of fics and then looking and realizing I still love them is a true gift#COMMUNITY BITCHES THIS IS WHAT THAT IS
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Please, for the love of god, please don’t be this person. No matter how long it’s been since an update, no matter how many unfinished stories are sitting on their account, no matter what - do not be this person.
Not only is it insanely rude, but you also do more damage than you think be being such a self-entitled ass about something someone created for free and for fun. “This author” can see what you say.
RIP decency indeed.
#Archive of our Own#Ao3#Ao3 Comments#Writing#Fanfiction#Fanfic Writing#I wrote over 100k on that fic before burnout took hold#I poured my heart into what I did manage to finish#adhd’s a bitch that doesn’t always let me write what I want to write but I got that far#don’t make me feel ashamed because you didn’t get to see the ending
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written for @steddiemicrofic, challenge: "hole", Rating: G, 404 words (which was a CHALLENGE, also @stevesjockstrap is an enabler *wink*)
"Steve!"
"Dustin, what're you doing here?" Steve leaned over the accounting ledger as he sat at the counter in the general store.
"Mom sent me to get a couple of - Steve! Don't move!"
"What? What's wrong?" Steve looked up and started lookng around, worried there was something on him.
"There's an alien coming out of your nose!" Dustin screeched.
"Alien … no Dustin, there's not an alien coming out of my nose," Steve replied. "It's called a piercing."
"Ouch, why would you do that?" Dustin asked.
Steve just shrugged as he went back to looking at the books. He'd undergone a bit of a transformation since the closing of the Upside Down and being reunited with Eddie - some of it more visible than others. He'd already gotten plenty of stares from the town and teasing from his friends when he'd shown up with the bright purple streak in his hair, but they'd all eventually gotten used to it. Next had come slight adjustments to his wardrobe - a little tighter than normal, because a certain someone wanted Steve to show off.
"Did it hurt?"
"Yeah, shithead, of course it hurt," Steve replied. "But it doesn't anymore. I tuck it up when I'm at work, not that Joyce cares."
"How long have you had it?"
"Dustin of the never ending questions!"
Steve glanced up at the sound of Eddie's voice to see his boyfriend enter the store and move behind the counter, tucking himself against Steve's side. Eddie'd gone through a bit of a change too, mostly because Steve had taken over Eddie's hair care.
"He finally saw my nose ring," Steve explained.
"Last one to notice," Eddie teased.
"Last one?!" Dustin exclaimed.
"Gotta be more observant," Steve replied. "Watch instead of shouting questions at people."
"But I always know things!" Dustin said.
"When it comes to the supernatural," Eddie added. "Not when it comes to the interpersonal."
"But, maybe we can throw you a bone," Eddie offered. "Give you first news."
"But only if you don't use it for personal gain," Steve said.
"Killjoy, but sure," Dustin replied.
"You forgot your cream," Eddie told Steve quietly. "Gotta make sure they don't become infected."
"My hero," Steve chuckled and turned, leaning in for a kiss before turning to Dustin. "I got my nipples pierced."
"Two days ago, in fact," Eddie said. "No one's noticed."
Steve watched Dustin's face for a few minutes.
"EW!"
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I agree.
As a slight variation, I have this head canon that it sort of 'accidentally' slips out. They say goodbye in the morning as Buck leaves Tommy's place to go to work. It was a great evening and night, and despite the brevity a lovely morning with some quick breakfast and coffee, and Tommy walks him to the door, and Buck leans in for a peck goodbye and says "Bye, love you," and walks through the door, closing it behind himself.
And on his way out he suddenly freezes because he realizes what he just said, and how he said it, because maybe it should have been a grander gesture, a more deliberate moment, right? It should have been meaningful, with enough time for Tommy to react (though Buck doesn't need him to say it back right away, but he really hoped for it!), not just some short words muttered in passing.
So of course Buck spirals a little on his way to the station, already wondering if he can 'take it back' so he can do it right — but you can't take back an 'I love you' just because you said it in the wrong moment, can you?
And of course the others pick up on how preoccupied and awkwardly nervous Buck is when he gets there, so he tells them what just happened, and they are sympathetic but also roll their eyes in amusement because, leave it to Buck to make a big deal out of this. Hen is the one who tells him a little gentler that, of course Tommy loves him too; 'the man is utterly smitten with you.'
Finally, a text message comes in.
'Hey. I'd have liked a chance to respond earlier. You think you can wait until we see each other again? 😉'
Buck groans in mild embarrassment but smiles because this doesn't sound like Tommy is going to tell him he doesn't love him, or something like that. So he texts back, 'Sorry about that. Yeah I think I can,' and adds, 'A small spoiler maybe?'
'You're going to like it.'
So that's enough of an answer for the moment, Buck just has to get through the next 24 hours until he can — hopefully, but it sounds like it — hear the words said back to him.
Or so he thinks, because, in the early afternoon, Tommy comes by the station with a box of cupcakes and coffee for Buck and the rest of the 118; and when Buck goes to greet him, and after exchanging a brief kiss hello, Tommy softly says, "Hi. I love you."
(I should probably have written a complete fic of this, but here we are — it slipped out of me too, lol)
I think buck needs to be the one to say "I love you" first, to contrast the last first time he said I love you, which was responding to taylor's "I love you for it", with "it" being doing what he said he wouldn't anymore, which was chase after someone who didn't want him to
and to further contrast it, I need it to not be after one of them almost died, and not after some big gesture of tommy's. I need it to be so low-key, just while they're having dinner or sitting on the couch, and tommy cracks another one of his deadpan jokes, and buck can't help smiling and laughing and the "I love you" just spills out, but he isn't nervous about it at all
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This also very much applies to fanfics. Some people need to take a step back and think before they make straight fools out of themselves.
#you're not cute for coming into the comments on someone's fic saying you don't like it#just hit the back button and move on#it's not that hard
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people are really looking at stats to determine if a fic is worth reading? no wonder fics that never got popular at the first drop never had a chance 💀
#also people don't really leave kudos anymore#or comments#so stats are fallible!!#don't do this i beg of you#best fic i ever read: barely 100 kudos#worst fic i ever read: most popular in a fandom based on stats#i'm just saying!!!
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You guys are commenting on the fics you read right? You’re at least leaving kudos on the Astarion smut and the pairs that have less than 20 fics for them too? You’re bookmarking stories you really like that are still being updated and ones that haven’t been touched in over a year right?
You know that even the smallest interactions are like cocaine to fic writers right? You understand how important a string of emoji hearts left behind on a chapter at three am is right?? Right????
You’re treating AO3 like a community and not a content factory….right?
#this isnt bg3 specific btw im seeing a lot of fandoms rotting cause of this#ao3#archive of our own#bg3 fanfiction#bg3#PLEASE YOU GUYS INTERACT WITH THE THINGS YOU READ#you’re not being weird or annoying!!! it doesn’t matter how old the fic is!!!#you can just say ‘I love this’ or ‘it’s three am and I haven’t slept yet cause I was reading this’#you can copy and paste a paragraph you like and add ‘!!!!!!’ after it#theories in the comments! mention when you think you’ve found foreshadowing!!!#if there’s a part where you have to physically put your phone down and smile off into the distantce? TELL THE AUTHOR#you can leave comments every chapter too!!! ITS NOT ANNOYING
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It's the first summer where everything felt normal - they spent the summer in Steve's backyard, getting tan and taking advantage of Steve's pool.
But the further into summer they got, the more Eddie noticed it - the way the sun had bleached Steve's hair to a bright, brassy auburn. Glossy and shaggy, Eddie was entranced by the way the color seemed to morph and change with how the sun hit it.
And he knew that Steve noticed - because everytime Steve caught Eddie staring, Steve would throw him a playful wink. But Eddie coun't help it - he'd already been entranced by Steve just generally but with the brassy, auburn locks Eddie was positively obsessed.
"I'm gonna go grab a beer from inside," Steve called. "Anyone want anything?"
There was a chorus of 'no' and so Steve went inside.
"I gotta piss," Eddie said suddenly, standing and following Steve inside.
Eddie found Steve down the hallway just off the kitchen, leaning against the wall and watching Eddie.
"Get your beer?" Eddie asked.
"Nah, decided I wanted something else," Steve said.
"Yeah? What's that?"
"You."
Before Eddie could respond, he found himself tugged forward by Steve's hand on the front of his swim trunks and Steve's lips pressed to his. Eddie groaned and returned the kiss, tugging at Steve's bottom lip with his teeth before breaking the kiss, forehead against Steve's.
"Have a thing for redheads?" Steve asked breathily.
"Have a thing for you," Eddie replied. "The redhead thing is new - might be Steve specific."
"Could keep it when the summer's over, if you want," Steve murmured.
"As long as I can keep you."
yeah
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As a writer, I love going back through the comments I've gotten on AO3. I promise that the minute you take of your time has been appreciated for hours/months/years
#I still get comments on a fic I wrote about??? 5 years ago?? and it means so much to me#It's also genuinely such a nice boost of confidence#It's really easy as humans to dismiss anything old of yours as bad#But it makes me happy knowing I've improved#Your comment saying I'm a good writer based on that? Oh BAYBEE it's been constant practice since then
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want your favorite author to update but don’t want to be too pushy in their comment section?
here’s 5 things you can do to encourage them:
Reblog their fic link on tumblr (bonus if it’s with tags)
Bookmark the fic with a note about what you’re excited about/love in the fic
Recommend the fic to your friends or local discord channel
Draw art or create other media for the fic (as indicated by the author’s comfort level)
Leave them a comment when re-reading about the parts of the chapter/story that stood out to you the second time
#this isn’t about me#this is just what I think a lot of authors would appreciate#more than the ‘update soon!!!’ comments#fic#fanfic#fanfiction#ao3#archive of our own#writing things#writing#reading things#reading#tips and tricks
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