#aiaof

[fragilecapric0rnn]

Anyway, It's About Old Friends

Steddie When Harry Met Sally AU || Complete

Chapter 6: 1999, Part 2

Eddie leans down and kisses him. Slow and deep, a hand traveling down Steve’s body, calloused fingers softly brushing over the lightly puckering skin, scars of a time that feels so far, almost like it wasn't his life. Because this is his life, what he should have been doing, There should have never been a part of his life where he wasn’t wrapped up in everything that is Eddie Munson.

Everything changes.

This is it! The end of an era!

((this is the chapter that earns the E rating just BTW))

An epilogue will be uploaded as it's own installment! Thank you to anyone and everyone who took the time to read/comment/bookmark/think about/talk about/recommend this fic!

Shoutout to my boys;

@kkpwnall @cheatghost @judasofsuburbia @fastcardotmp3 @figthefruitfaeth

@snowangeldotmp3 @gideoncharov

Thank you for always encouraging me, both with this fic, all of my works, and in life!!!! I could cry, I can't believe this fic is over!!!!

It was a labor of love, devotion, and an homage to the best romantic comedy every made, my home, and these two idiots who have owned my heart since summer of 2022 💓

[glassprism]

Hi! I'd like to know if there is any footage of JOJ and Katie Hall perfoming MOTN and PONR or at least photos of them. I became interested in Poto like 2 years ago but got dissapointed and frustrated at how everyone just talk about the 25th anniversary which I personally don't care for and moved on but recently I started listening to it again and JOJ is my absolutely favorite. Everytime I hear him singing Wandering Child or AIAOF I feel things in places tmi sorry

There's quite a few photos, mainly from their time together in the restaged UK tour, as Katie Hall was principal there (she was the alternate in London when John Owen-Jones was there and so there aren't any official photos of her with him), some of which you can see here.

Footage is much more limited. There's three clips of Katie Hall in London with JOJ as the Phantom (and Killian Donnelly as Raoul), but the only one that actually shows her with him is this clip of the title song and a tiny bit of the beginning of 'Music of the Night'. There are also four clips of her with JOJ as the Phantom in the restaged UK tour, and one of them is 'Point of No Return'. There is also a clip of her in 'The Mirror' and title song as well as one from the 'Final Lair'. I hope that helps!

[highqueenofelfhame]

All I Ask Of You

Oh, don't say that it's over Oh, no, say it ain't so Let's let the stars watch, let them stare Let the wind eavesdrop, I don't care For all that we've got, don't let it go Just hold me Eavesdrop - The Civil Wars

Two Weeks Later

“Ace?” The sound of the voice, too far away to pinpoint with of them it was, echoed through the warehouse below the apartment she had acquired set her teeth on edge. Her tongue ran over her teeth as she debated locking the apartment door, then decided he would bust it down anyway. It was like this every few days. One member of the Cadre would come back to her apartment. They would take turns coming to ask her how she was doing. Was she okay. Fenrys came most often, sometimes with Connall. Vaughan came occasionally. Gavriel had come a handful of times. At one point, they’d even flown Aedion in from the base he was on in Wendlyn to try to talk to her. 

A knock. 

“Aelin? Galathynius, open up.” Lorcan. That was new. When she said nothing, the knob jiggled and after a beat, the door flew open. He didn’t even bother to pause, just stalked into the apartment like he owned the place and dropped into the chair next to her. 

“By all means,” she said flatly, “make yourself at home.” 

“My dislike for you is mild on a good day. You’re arrogant, self absorbed when it comes to so much shit. Sometimes you are such a bitch that I just.” Lorcan closed his fist and tapped it to his forehead. “But you’re a good soldier. You are my soldier, and I’ll be damned if you don’t take my job from me one day. But you have to stop.” When she didn’t say anything, her staying focused on the map, he leaned forward and rubbing the bridge of his nose, then turned his head to really look at her.

Aelin had never looked worse. She knew that. Turns out that getting shot in the shoulder really fucks you up. Even worse was when she woke up, choking on the tube and throwing her arms around, she’d ignored the pain that had burned through every place on her body in her panic. That had only made the injury to her right shoulder worse all over again. Now, having had a second surgery just eight days ago, there was intense amounts of pain despite the obnoxiously uncomfortable sling she had to wear most of the time that gave her shoulder extra support. At present time, she had such limited use of her right hand because of the damage to the muscles and tendons in her shoulder. Less severe was the shot to her back, because by some grace of Mala, had been a clean bullet wound through the skin, missing anything major. In truth, she had been lucky. 

“You didn’t show up for physcal therapy today,” Lorcan finally said, finger trailing over some of the notes that she had scribbled all over the map. Things were color coded, there were stars drawn on other places, more than one big red X. 

“I didn’t care to know what a shit job my body is doing at healing. You won’t let me help find him despite the shit job you’re all doing.” 

“Aelin. Gods above. We’re trying to find him and you know that. I get that you’re having a hard time and I know what he means to you but what the hell do you think you’re going to accomplish? You can’t use your dominant hand for shit, your bullet wound still bleeds when you use too much energy because you won’t just calm down and rest like you’re supposed to.” Aelin’s eyes fluttered shut, silent tears falling down her face

It wasn’t a new revelation. She hated herself. Hated that she was hurt, hated that Rowan had been taken when it was her that was supposed to have been. It was Hamel’s face on the security tapes, a man she’d managed to take down in a sex trafficking ring. When Hamel had been hit with a bullet to his arm, he’d fallen, and his apparent lover had stormed at Aelin, screaming and drawing a gun in the process. So Aelin had fired, hit the woman in the heart, and put the entire thing out of her mind. Hamel had been arrested, put in prison, and had broken out six months later. For awhile, Aelin was paranoid. Watched her back. But at some point the fear dissipated. Fear that Rowan kept at bay by holding her through the night. 

Aelin knew that all of this was why she was being targeted. Why Rowan had been taken. An eye for an eye. She would be lying if she said she had much hope left. Hope he was coming back to her, hope that he was even alive. 

These days she was just thankful she hadn’t opened a box with his head inside. 

“One of the first nights after you had shown up on base as our newest member, despite his anger Rowan came to my quarters. I’ve known Rowan for a long time, Aelin. And after you left him I had never seen so much pain in a person. He deserved it, absolutely. But the night he came to my quarters, sat with his head in his hands, and made me promise that if there was ever a moment when it was him or you, that we save you. The tone of his voice, the way he sounded. It was raw and rough and I could tell how serious he was. There was a certain level of threat to his voice that told me if I did the opposite he’d  throttle me. So I said okay. During the first week of us being here, he made me promise again. ‘She is all that matters. I don’t care about anything else,’ He’d said. So I made good on that promise. I had to either get you or him out. And I chose you because it’s what he’s asked—begged me to do more than once.” 

She didn’t say anything, just shook her head a single time, pressed her lips together in a thin line, and left the room. A few moments later, she heard the front door open and close, and she collapsed on the floor and cried until there were no more tears in her body. 

~*~

It took longer than she cared to admit to shimmy into her black stealth suit. The pain in her shoulder made her see stars, but she finally managed. She had strapped guns and knives to the left side of her body, only one knife on the right side for desperate measures. She was fully capable of taking down men with just her left arm, but she refused to let herself be completely defenseless if someone came up on her right. She knew it would hurt like hell but she found herself incapable of caring about whatever pain she would be in. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but Rowan. 

Aelin was also smart enough to mark where she was going on the map on her table. It was the only location circled in thick black marker, the actual address scribbled to the side. Hamel wanted Aelin, that much she knew. Knew he would want Aelin watch him kill Rowan. And knew he would do it the same place Aelin had killed the woman he had been with. She didn’t even remember her name. Maybe she should have, but it was just another thing she didn’t care about. Couldn’t care about. Either way, she would give him what he wanted, except Rowan wasn’t going to die.

 Aelin was. 

~*~

By the time she’d reached the piss poor excuse for a house, the moon was at its highest position in the sky, the stars bright and vibrant this far out of the city. It was well past midnight and under it would have been beautiful under different circumstances. 

Getting into the house was too easy. They weren’t even trying to defend the space and she was an expert at picking locks. It was silent inside, so silent that she would have heard a pin drop. Aelin had never been more thankful for the boots that went with the suit because they were completely soundproof. It was perfect for missions such as these, when she needed to be as undetected as possible. 

She heard a creak of a floorboard somewhere above her, and decided to start there, silently making her way up the stairs. She flattened her body against the wall, the mask over her face and the hood over her head making her nearly invisible in the darkness. With clenched teeth, she proceeded down the hall, stopping at the first door. Carefully -- so, so carefully -- she turned the knob and opened the door, slipping her thin body into the room. She shut the door behind her with no sound or resistance. Aelin was hardly breathing as she took in a sleeping figure in the bed. Soundlessly, she pulled one of her knives from a sheath on her hip, approached the figure, and slit their throat from ear to ear. His eyes flew open for a single moment and then he was dead. The man didn’t even have time to choke on his own blood. 

When she approached the door again, she pressed her ear to the wood to listen for any sign of movement outside. When she heard nothing, she cracked the door open and slid back out into the hall, making her way to the next room down the line. 

It was the same story: Sleeping man, slit throat, no time to choke. It was impossible to not be more suspicious of how easy it was. Almost too easy, but she supposed they would have to sleep at some point, and someone would have to be guarding Rowan, which couldn’t be an easy task. 

Unless he’s incapacitated. 

The thought made the blood in her veins absolutely boil. 

There was movement in the room with the dim glow, and before searching the room she knew had people, she decided to search the rest of the house. She couldn’t imagine a prisoner being kept in a room that was so easy to escape. It would have been too easy for him to escape. 

She crept back down the stairs, careful to be as light on her feet as she could. The rest of the house was seemingly empty, but in the kitchen there was a door. It was padlocked and likely lead down to a basement. That door seemed the most likely place that Rowan was being kept, so she began to pick the lock, eyes fluttering shut when the click of the lock was too loud for her liking. Frozen, she waited to hear any sort of sign of someone coming downstairs. When she heard nothing, she removed the lock from the latch, pocketed it so no one would be able to easily lock them back in, and slipped into the room. 

She was greeted by a set of stairs that she followed down into the ground. The glow from the light was so dim that it took her a moment for her eyes to adjust. Aelin had been right about it being a basement --  it took a moment for her to get all the way down the stairs. When she reached the bottom, she was absolutely breathless. 

Rowan was tied to a chair with rope. His head was hanging down like he was some sort of unconscious, whether he had been knocked out or sleeping, she didn’t know. Aelin didn’t hesitate to run over to him, her hands cupping his face. 

“Come on, baby. Wake up. Please wake up. We have to get you out of here,” she whispered, fingers careful to avoid bruises and cuts that covered his face. It took a moment of her patting the side of his face before his eyes slowly cracked open, and when they did they were filled with tears. 

“What -- Aelin no. No, you can’t be here,” he ground out, but she shook her head, saying nothing as she moved to untie him. 

Aelin had just began to pull a knife from her thigh holster when splitting pain exploded in her head as someone knocked her unconscious. 

~*~

When she woke up, she had the worst headache she had ever had and her shoulder was on fire. Dizzily, she lifted her head and met Rowan’s eyes. Part of her was relieved; the other part angry. They were sitting close enough that their knees were almost touching. Like Rowan, her hands were tied behind her back. That explained the shoulder pain. 

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her eyes fluttering closed. Tears slipped down her cheeks, from both pain and guilt. 

“What could you possibly be sorry for, love?” He asked softly, his foot nudging against hers the best it could despite the rope tied around his ankles. It was the only way he could touch her, the only way he could reach her. 

“The last conversation we had. I was telling you not to touch me. And I feel so, so guilty. I just. I’m sorry.” 

“Gods above, Ace. I don’t blame you for that. I could never blame you for that,” he said, his voice heavy with his lilting accent that she loved so much. Aelin nodded, but still felt the guilt in her gut. She had been replaying that conversation in her mind for weeks now, wishing she hadn’t said it. In truth, she had never felt so desperate to touch him. 

Behind her back, her fingers fumbled with the rope having seen the knot that had Rowan’s hands had been tied with. Luckily for both of them, they both knew how to untie it. Even luckier, the idiots hadn’t found the knives that were concealed under her sleeves. Aelin had a very small blade  just above her palm, and if she could just --

The door to the basement flew open. Heavy footsteps clomped down the stairs, and Aelin couldn’t help but roll her eyes. Whoever Hamel had working for him were flat out stupid which had led to their original arrest. Even dumber for them to not pat her down thoroughly enough. With a slight flick of her wrist, the little blade shot down into her hand, cutting her skin in a long gash. Forced to grip the blade to try to work it down into her hand, her fingers and palm screaming in pain. It took everything she had to not cringe. Rowan, noticing the slight change in her face, furrowed his brow and Aelin made an imperceptible nod with her head as Arobynn Hamel himself stepped off the bottom step into the basement. 

Aelin’s face was school into neutrality as she arched a single brow at him, waiting for him to speak but the words never came. Instead, he pulled a gun from the waistband of his pants, the idiot, and caressed the trigger the way a lover caresses a cheek. 

“Can I help you?” She asked him, licking her lips slowly. There was a gash there, the metallic tang of blood on her tongue. Arobynn let out a low laugh the same time Aelin began to saw through the rope that bound her, careful to be prepared for the rope to loosen and fall into her hands. 

Another person hopped off the bottom step, a man she didn’t know. In his hands he held two daggers, twirling them between his fingers. She rolled her eyes, doing anything to make it look like she wasn’t scared. Truthfully, she was terrified. Terrified that if she wasn’t quick enough Rowan would receive a bullet to the head and she would be left with the guilt that she had never told him that she forgives him, had never told him she loved him one last time. 

“You know you have the wrong guy, right?” She quirked a brow, looking over at Rowan with distaste, her hand still working to cut through the rope. Her shoulder was begging her to stop, begging for that sling she hated so much. “This piece of shit cheated on me. We haven’t been together for years. So do me a favor and put a bullet through his brain so I can get out of here and never have to see either of you ever again.” The rope finally snapped and she was able to shimmy her hands out before it fell to the ground. 

“Why come for him then?” His eyes narrowed, and Rowan’s face was indecipherable. 

“Because it’s so much easier to ask you to do it than me. I could offer you a pretty penny,” she drawled, watching as Arobynn caressed that trigger again, clearly debating the offer. Aelin cocked her head to the side as, once again -- the idiot -- knelt down next to Aelin. He didn’t look at her or Rowan, just focused on the gun in his hand. 

It was all she needed.

Aelin whipped her hands around, stabbing the knife through Hamel’s neck with her right hand. White hot pain shot through her arm and back, but she didn’t let it slow her down as she wrapped the rope around his neck, ripping out the knife and swiping down Rowan’s leg to unsnap the rope. 

She had moved so fast that the man with the daggers had barely made it to Rowan by the time he was on his feet, swinging his free leg around to knock the man to the ground. Aelin tightened the rope around Hamel’s neck the same time Rowan managed to jump backwards, effectively landing on the crumpled assassin. The chair shattered beneath his body and he rolled backwards until he was able to push onto his feet. 

Aelin slit Arobynn’s throat and kicked him in the chest, his blood spraying across her face. It was then that they heard footsteps up above, the floorboards creaking under the weight of whoever was up there. Rowan turned his back to her and she cut his hands free of it’s bindings, jerking her gun from her thigh holster and preparing to shoot whoever came through the door. 

Except it wasn’t more of Hamel’s associates. It was the Cadre, pouring down into the basement with guns drawn and eyes blazing. 

“You’re late,” she said flatly, moving over to Rowan and searching his face to make sure he was okay as he could be. Lorcan rolled his eyes, Fenrys was trying not to smile.

“You know you could get discharged for this, right?” Lorcan asked, and Aelin shrugged her left shoulder, wincing in pain as the movement of her muscles shot pain across her upper back. 

“I’m okay,” he said softly, run his fingers along her cheek. She turned her face to kiss his palm and leaned her forehead against his chest. 

“Can someone get me a medic?” And then she was falling toward the floor, completely unaware of Rowan catching her before she hit the ground. 

~*~ 

Once again, she woke up to the beeping of machines, but this time there was no tube down her throat. There were two hands wrapped around hers and something pressing against her thigh. When her eyes cracked open, she let out a sigh and tears immediately poured out of her eyes. 

He looked like hell. His face was swollen and bruised and he had stitches above his eyebrow. The hands that encased hers had gashes on them as well, and Aelin wondered how bad it must be hurting for how tightly he gripped her hand. She couldn’t help but wonder how bad the cut on his leg was from when she cut the rope, knowing it had cut into his flesh. It couldn’t have been too bad, as he was able to move with agility when she cut him free, but she was still worried. Still felt horrible.

“Ro,” she croaked out, and his head immediately shot up and then he was standing and smoothing down her hair. Rowan’s eyes searched her and flicked down to her shoulder, looking for any sign of anything that would hint to her not being okay. 

“Hi baby,” he breathed, satisfied with his inspection. His lips pressed to her forehead, her cheeks, and finally her lips and she let out a quiet sob when he rested his forehead against hers. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry. For everything. For all of it.” 

“I know. I know.” He kissed her again, a little harder this time until she let out a slight whimper. Her lip was still split, but she shook her head when he opened his mouth to apologize. “I love you,” she said quietly, bringing her good hand up to run through his hair. “I love you so much.”

“I don’t deserve you,” he sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed. “Gods, baby. I love you. I love you but you deserve so much better than me.” Aelin frowned then, shaking her head quickly. She knew what was coming as she shook her head harder.

“Don’t say it. Rowan Whitethorn, don’t you dare. Don’t.” The tears she  had been crying flowed freely, soaking the gown she wore as they dripped from her chin. Every word, her voice as shattered as her heart.

“I love you, but I can’t let you be with me. I’m not good for you.” He spoke slowly, his voice breaking over his words. All the while his hands smoothed down her hair. Rowan was crying just as hard as she was. 

He brought her hand up to her lips and kissed her knuckles, then leaned forward to kiss her one last time. “I love you.” He kissed her forehead one more time, released her hand, and disappeared out the door. 

Aelin couldn’t help but think that the pain in her heart was infinitely worse than the pain in her shoulder. 

**Tysm to my love and muse @musicmaam bc i couldn’t do anything w/o her tbh

[dadforplaid]

Days 2-4 of Ink/Goretober: Ring, Mindless, and Frozen

[fragilecapric0rnn]

Anyway, It's About Old Friends || Steddie Future Fic (the When Harry Met Sally Steddie AU)

Chapter 4: The Rest of 1998

New year, new me! It felt fitting to put out this monster of an update out just in time to ring in the new year. I'm hoping with all my heart to finish this Big Boy in 2024, but with all my other writing projects, who knows. All I know is that there is no greater joy than the joy that experience while writing 90s Steddie!

Shout out to my Boys <;3 @cheatghost @kkpwnall @fastcardotmp3 @ariadnebf @hellsfireclub @judasofsuburbia @figthefruitfaeth for the constantly and overflowing love and support! Love you all and squeezing you all so tight!!

Snippet below the cut <33

“Okay, I get the idea of how it happened,” Max sounds like she’s walking around and gesturing wildly around her apartment, similar to Steve. “Mutual broken hearts or whatever, but like,” he can hear the gears turning in Max’s head as she cycles through the million questions in her head, “How’s it going?” 

How is it going? 

For one, Steve is mostly surprised by the fact that Eddie fit so well into his life. Like there had been an Eddie shaped hole in the ecosystem of Steve’s world, waiting patiently for him to get his head out of his ass and take root. And take root is exactly what he’s done. 

His mind trails to the car ride home. Steve’s favorite station living on preset 2 of Eddie’s work truck. Their lunches in Steve’s classroom yesterday. 

Even as the school year has kicked into gear, leaving Steve with significantly less free time than he had over the summer, he and Eddie have maintained a weirdly perfect rhythm of just being. When they’re not at work they’re at Eddie’s place, watching TV mindlessly. Or at Steve’s, Eddie distracting him while he grades papers. Or at dinner, or running errands, or catching a last minute movie, or or or — impromptu rides home. 

Steve physically shakes his head. 

“It’s fine, like a couple of old friends.” Steve can once again feel her energy turn even more curious. 

[fragilecapric0rnn]

Anyway, It's About Old Friends || steddie future fic

Chapter 5: 1999: Part 1

“And what about you?” Eddie asks, sitting back casually in his seat, crossing his arms. “What about me?” Steve asks, still leaning forward. “Any potential suitors?” Steve scoffs. “You?” “Zero, zilch, nada.”

A slice of life chapter. We're coming up on the end here, and I'm so very excited to show it to y'all :)))

Shout out to my boys! Your enthusiasm is a motivation on its own and I am always most excited to share my writing with you all <3<3

@kkpwnall @figthefruitfaeth @fastcardotmp3 @snowangeldotmp3 @judasofsuburbia

And @cheatghost who made this graphic last year, and this chapter just felt like it fit this one so so well!!! Love ya forever and everrrrrrrr my Louseph <333

[fragilecapric0rnn]

personal fav fics of 2023

here are some of my favorite fics that i've written this year!

Anyway, It's About Old Friends ; Steddie | 25k | ongoing

In 1987, Steve Harrington ends up going on a cross-country trek with Eddie Munson and it ends as well as one might think. In 1992, after a chance meeting in an airport and a weekend attending the same wedding, they go their separate ways. In 1998, they become friends.

Young, Scrappy, & Hungry ; Ronance | 11k | ongoing

Nancy Wheeler and Robin Buckley find themselves working for the same office. Their similarities start and end with their passion. Where Nancy is a cut-throat workaholic, Robin is more subtle about the work that she does. Where Robin is personable, Nancy is ready to fight anyone who stands in her way. Can they set aside their differences and work together as a team to keep the Congresswoman's seat in her highly contested district? Or will they let their silly little rivalry get in the way of doing the work that they both have dedicated their young adult lives to?

Catch Me (I'm Falling) ; Steddie + background Wheelingham | 32k | complete

He punches a number onto the keypad and hands it back to Steve. Before he can fully bring the phone back into his possession, Eddie takes hold of the dangling Hello Kitty charm, using it to pull Steve back toward him, just a bit. “No funny business, Harrington.” Steve looks at him then down at his cell phone, the rhinestones on it leftover from Robin’s bedazzling phase and the Hello Kitty charm he’s holding hostage and then back up at him. “Get a fucking clue, Munson.” He laughs and snaps his cellphone shut. He doesn’t wait for Eddie’s blank stare to catch on before he’s turning to leave. - or - the early 2000s college cheerleading AU that nobody asked for.

Faces Freedom With A Little Fear ; Steve Character Study + background Steddie | 7k | complete

Her eyes were filled to the brim with tears as they sat there, both adults now. Adults technically, and even if Steve felt like he'd grown a hundred times over in the last few years, he still felt like a little boy watching his sister watch him. The fear in her eyes more chilling than any of the monsters he's had to face. If only she knew what he had been up to these last three years. - Steve Harrington's older sister shows up.

[fragilecapric0rnn]

Heat Wave \\ An Old Friends One-Shot

Steddie | 4.1k | t&up | Read on Ao3

Wayne eye’s Steve with the same brand of curiosity that Gareth did. Wonders if it’s from the shit Eddie talked about him after the drive, or if his high school persona really casts a decades-long shadow so dark, it’ll follow him across all the state lines between there and home.  “Nice seeing ya again, kid,” he shakes Steve’s hand. “Eddie here won’t shut up about you ever since you two - uh - reconnected .”  “Awwww, you talkin’ about me?” Steve teases.  “Don’t flatter yourself, sweet cheeks.” Eddie scoffs, walking toward the river. 

For the prompt heat wave for Lex's (@thefreakandthehair) Spicy Six Summer Challenge!!! You are a rockstar and I love these challenges so much! Thank you for putting them together for each season, I really hope ya like this little look inside the AIAOF universe ❤️

[fragilecapric0rnn]

several sentence sunday: a wip weekend event

tagged by the lovely and wonderful @judasofsuburbia (and tagged by @kkpwnall and @fastcardotmp3 on wednesday but shhhh its a combo 2 for 1 deal at the house of sen toniiight)

here's a lil snippet from the next installment of Anyway, It's About Old Friends, something i did not expect to work on, but am very happy i did because i got a chance to reintroduce my beloved Nancy to the fic, as she gives our lovely steve a proverbial bonk on the head 🫶✨

In his wildest dreams, Steve Harrington never could have imagined that he would be laying out in his parent’s backyard, side by side in neighboring pool chairs with Nancy Wheeler. Sixteen years since they last saw Barb, alive. Sixteen years since she had her whole life ripped out from underneath her.  Sixteen years since she’s been back here.  And yet, here she is. Sitting beside Steve, casually reading a magazine, an oversized sun hat on her head as if this is the most normal thing. “What’s so funny,” Nancy asks, flipping to the next page.  “Nothing,” Steve pauses. “It’s just, the way you’re acting like this is a normal Tuesday for you.”  “I’m not,” She says, still unamused in her tone. “Because it’s Thursday.”  “That’s not what I meant.”  “I know what you meant.” And, just like when they were kids, Steve has no idea what to say to something like that. So he opts for something non-committal, that still conveys that this conversation is far from over.  “Okay.” He tries masking his annoyance, but he’s not sure it works. Nancy finally gives up her magazine, resting it on her chest. 

tagging with absolutely no pressure @snowangeldotmp3 @cheatghost @figthefruitfaeth @gideoncharov + anyone who sees this and wants to do it <33

[fragilecapric0rnn]

Anyway, It's About Old Friends || steddie future fic

(the When Harry Met Sally Steddie fic)

Chapter 3: Summer of 1998: June Gloom and A Fresh Start

He tears his eyes away to glance down at his watch.  “It’s five o’clock.”  When he looks back up from his watch, his eyes are still zeroed in on that ringless finger. He shakes his head, takes a deep breath.  “The senior special, then?” His smile is soft and Steve can’t help himself. If not for his persistently wicked curiosity when it comes to Eddie Munson, then for the company. For not having to eat dinner alone in his apartment.  “Sure, that sounds nice.” 

It is here! An update! Thank you all for your paitence <3 This story means a lot to me and I have always vowed to take my time, so, thank you for letting me take my time<33

A big juicy shout out to my love @judasofsuburbia for beta reading! And, as always, the biggest and juiciest shout out to my boyssss! THE boys!!!! @cheatghost @kkpwnall @figthefruitfaeth @gothbat99 @fastcardotmp3 @hellsfireclub @gideoncharov thank you all for always being my biggest cheerleaders and loving this story as much as i do <3

[fragilecapric0rnn]

last three lines tag <3

rules: post the last three lines you've written and if has been over a week, write something new in a wip!!

thank you for the tag my beloveds 🫶🏽🫶🏽 @judasofsuburbia + @fastcardotmp3 + @cheatghost

tagging: @kkpwnall @sharpbutsoft @figthefruitfaeth @snowangeldotmp3 @roguenancy + anyone who sees this and wants to participate!!

now, my most recent additions to the long awaited 5th chapter (HOLY SHIT WERE OFFICIALLY MORE THAN HALFWAY THERE) of Anyway, It’s About Old Friends <3

“I meant to date like a normal person, not like you’re allergic to anything beyond a hook-up.”

“Can we please talk about something other than my sex life?”

“So, Valentine’s day?”

Steve imitates a buzzer noise, earning a dirty look from both Robin and Will.

“You spend so much time with Eddie that you’re adopting all of his annoying habits including avoiding uncomfortable conversations!” Steve rolls his eyes, knowing how far from the truth that is.

“And yet, you’re still talking.”

[fragilecapric0rnn]

Anyway, It's About Old Friends || steddie future fic

(the When Harry Met Sally Steddie fic)

Chapter 2: 1992

In 1992, after a chance meeting in an airport and a weekend attending the same wedding, they go their separate ways.

cw: recreational drug use, some depictions of drug use, heavy drinking, references to addiction [ i know this can be heavy topics for some so if those topics are sensitive for you, please be mindful and take care of yourself ]

lots of mention of music in this chapter. enough to compel me to throw together a mini-playlist of all the songs mentioned and a few extras to set the mood. enjoy!

💗 huge and eternal shout out to my Big Boys @judasofsuburbia @fastcardotmp3 @figthefruitfaeth @hellsfireclub @gothbat99 @gideoncharov for the constant and unconditional motivation/hype/love/support in everything that i do! i couldn't do this without you guys 💗

💖 another eternal and forever shout out to 2 more Big Boys @kkpwnall, for being such an amazing friend and beta-reader and for all the encouragement <33 and @cheatghost for the beautiful graphic they made for me earlier this week AND for letting me yell and scream in their DMs about this fic, their fic, and everything that isn't fic 💖

I could not ask for better friends and I feel forever lucky and grateful to have y'all in my life 💓

snippet below the cut <3

Steve can feel the cartoon birds circling around his head as he jogs through the terminal, his gate at the end of the long stretch. Squints his eyes behind his glasses, can still see people boarding, and picks up the pace of his jog. 

Seemingly, from out of nowhere, someone cuts him off, steps in line before him, ticket in the stewardess’s hand before he can even register the fact that he didn’t miss his flight. 

Annoyed, Steve lets out a huff, staring at the back of the guy’s head as if to telepathically call him an asshole. That’s when he recognizes something about the guy’s energy that feels familiar. He’s wearing a red flannel, his hair is kinda long, dark, and curly. There’s no way that’s… 

“Enjoy your flight, Mr. Munson.” 

Fuck. 

[fragilecapric0rnn]

Anyway, It's About Old Friends || steddie future fic

(the When Harry Met Sally Steddie fic)

In 1987, Steve Harrington ends up going on a cross-country trek with Eddie Munson and it ends as well as one might think.

Read Here

It's finally here, the fic I've been wanting to write since August, the fic that has been haunting my brain, my blog, and my dreams since August! The first chapter is finally here!!!!

Huge huge HUGE shout out to my own squad of cheerleaders, my big boys, my wonderfully talented friends @gothbat99 @figthefruitfaeth @judasofsuburbia @fastcardotmp3 and everyone else that has listened and participated in a spiel or two about this fic 💖

Another huge shout out to @cheatghost and @kkpwnall for beta reading and seeing the vision and handling this fic I love so dearly with a lot of TLC and for helping me brainstorm my way out of a few ruts 💓

Love you lots my dear friends💗✨💗✨

[fragilecapric0rnn]

“it’s okay, i couldn’t sleep anyway” for the prompt thing!! (-patheticgirlsteve)

OKAY SO this prompt is from a prompt list I rb'd in December (wowza!) and I found the writing for this prompt half finished in my WIPs folder today and decided to finish it!

This ficlet is also a look into the in-progress When Harry Met Sally-inspired AU/canon divergence fic. I've been sitting on both that fic and this snippet for far too long and have been itching to share something. So, here's the something!

(something set in the late summer of '98, in a city that doesn't bode well during heat waves)

It’s an unusually hot night in Steve’s apartment. 

It's going to be an unusually hot week in the city, actually.

Steve has gotten used to the temperate San Francisco weather in the 11 years he's been a resident. But after 11 years, he's still surprised at the random bursts of heat that creep in during these last few weeks of August. Just in time for him and his students to sit inside the toaster oven that is his classroom during the first week of school.

Thankfully, it's not a school night. The last week of his summer vacation, and he's spent most of the daylight hours dangling half of his body out of the screen-less street-facing window in his apartment, praying a breeze would whip past him. (It didn't).

After an hour of tossing and turning in bed, in nothing but a pair of boxers, the open window providing no relief, the air stale and hot and a bit sticky, he decided to move to the living room, where he will still be suffering, but at least there's a TV out there.

A movie he remembers seeing with Robin in the theater during their Oakland days is playing as soon as he flicks on the TV, reminding him of how long it's been since they've lived together, let alone in that first apartment in Oakland. Freshly 20 and 21, figuring out how to live on their own, thousands of miles from everyone and everything they knew. Figuring out how to deal with the calmness of it all.

Remembers talking about the movie again in '92, and being annoyed with all of his friends (Eddie and Nancy) who thought that Lloyd and Diane broke up in London. Wonders if they're still as cynical about love today as they were back then.

As he's counting the years back in his head, the phone rings, pulling him out of his thoughts.

“Hel-lo?” He answers, remembering that it is 2am in the middle of the word, dragging it into two syllables to make it seem like he's shocked that someone is calling him.

“What the hell are you doing awake at this hour?” Eddie quips, Steve reflexively rolls his eyes, at both the tone of his voice and the question itself.

“How do you know that you didn’t just interrupt my much needed beauty sleep?” He scoffs, flicking his head like he would if Eddie were sitting right here on the couch with him. Eddie must pick up on it, chuckling over the phone, a similar sound to the one he made when he was sitting on this couch hours ago, suffering with Steve in his apartment.

Now there's something twenty-one year old Steve would be shocked to learn. That him and Eddie became friends, at all.

“I can hear the TV.” Steve hums in response, turns the volume down a notch or two. “But, here’s a courtesy ‘I’m sorry’ for the late night call.”  

“It’s okay. I couldn’t sleep anyway.” Steve sighs as the slightest breeze rolls through the open window. He's a much better sleeper than twenty-one year old Steve, but due to recent life-changing events and this damn heat-wave, a late-night phone call with Eddie is almost routine at this point

“I miss Evie’s apartment. She had AC.” Eddie says, casually. Steve still doesn't get how he can talk about her so casually. How he can just bring her up like it's nothing. If he even thinks about -

“I still can’t believe you got your heartbroken by a trust fund baby.” He says, cutting off his own thought.

“I’m more heartbroken about that AC unit right now,” still casual, as if he is actually heartbroken about an AC and not a person.

“What’re you watching?” He asks.

“Say Anything.” 

“Channel?”

“12.” 

The scene where Lloyd is talking to Diane’s father on the prison yard. It makes him think of Eddie on the other line, sitting in his unintentional bachelor pad a few blocks away from his own. The thought must’ve made Eddie’s ears burn. 

“That’s not what visitation is actually like, ya know?” His voice is soft.

“Oh yeah?” Steve says, wanting to encourage but not pry.

“Yeah. It’s indoors, at tables, cold and gray. Feels dirty and sterile at the same time.” Eddie says.

“I always thought it happened between a plane of glass, with a telephone on either side of the glass.” Steve offers, giving him an out, a chance to change the subject if he wants to bow out.

“That’s what it’s like in county jail. Prison’s different.” Steve hums again, knows there’s no need to respond with anything else. Steve doesn’t need to ask him how he knows all of this. He knows that Eddie doesn’t expect him to ask. That’s the thing, about old friends, about them, about their whole gang. There are certain things they’ll always know about each other. 

His mind drifts to a little Eddie and a younger Wayne, walking into a room just like Eddie had described, going through the motions. It pulls at his chest a little. 

“Do you still think they broke up in London?” Steve tests.

“I don’t think they broke up in London?” Eddie says, a tad defensive. 

“Yes you do, or you did.” He remembers the conversation, he knows Eddie must remember the conversation.

“When did I say that?” 

“In San Diego, we had a whole thing about it, the five of us.” The drunk and loud debate was held stuffed into a diner booth in San Diego. Before you left.

Eddie pauses.

“I did say that, didn’t I?” 

“You sure did.” 

“Well, to answer your question, no. I don't think so. I think that they’re two weirdos who were meant for each other.” Eddie says, Steve sinks further into the couch, holds the phone up with his shoulder.

“That's exactly what I said then.” 

"Well, I think it now."

"Me too." It comes out softer than he expected. Suddenly thankful that this conversation is happening over the phone, so he can scrunch the feeling away from his face, take a deep breath and shake the feeling that just washed over his body.

“I know a thing or two about weirdos who’re meant for each other.” Eddie says playfully, that tone he uses when he's half-joking, but half-serious. Steve feels something bubble in the very depths of his stomach. 

“Oh yeah? Who?” 

“You and Robin.” Pop. He lets out a deep breath.

“Ha ha.” Steve says, toning up the sarcasm.

“Max and Lucas, Joyce and Jim, the entire gang who’s bonded by the terrors of the 80s and government NDA’s.” Steve’s laugh barks out of him, he can’t hide how surprised he is at these words coming out of Eddie’s mouth. 

“What? What’s so funny?” 

“Nothing, it’s just…” He trails off, trying to choose his next words carefully. “Not used to you talking about the past. Hasn’t really been your thing.” His mind drifts momentarily to San Diego again. Watching him hail that cab. Running away. 

“There's a lotta things that I used to do, or not do.” There’s a pause. Either of them could say something, there’s something dangling in the air between them, between their two phone lines, filling the space between their two apartments. Just as Steve opens his mouth to say something, cut the tension, snatch the feeling out of the air, Eddie beats him to it.

[fragilecapric0rnn]

please please please

✨🕺wip week bc we are so back 🕺✨

i created a monster with this meme, i fear.

ok but FOR REAL i haven't touched this doc in SO LONG and i didn't realize how much the story has progressed and you know what? WOWOWOW i missed this one!

(for those who missed it, this is The Lumax that takes place in the same universe as Anyway, It's About Old Friends, where they breakup and still end up together bc this bunch has a habit of finding their way back to each other <3) here is a lil bit i just wrote from the 1992 (aka the wedding) chapter of The Lumax!!!

Max taps on her steering wheel aggressively as she waits outside Will’s apartment complex. Her leg tapping made the car shake. The stupid Lenny Kravitz song that has been playing everywhere lately.

So many years we've triedAnd kept our love alive'Cause baby, it ain't over 'til it's over

She shuts the radio off all together, just as the gate to Will’s complex swings open. She hits the unlock button. His face is solemn, eyebrows scrunched, and looking downright disheveled. She can’t help but empathize with what he’s going through, just hiding it better than him. 

Trips to San Diego aren’t usually filled with much anticipation. Usually, they’re a break from reality. A break from her grandma’s tiny house. A break from her stupid uncle hogging all the hot water in the bathroom. From everyone being loud, taking up so much space. 

But this time, she’s in Santa Barbara. This time, she’s coming from her Grandma’s house where she was just a visitor. This time, she can’t shake the knot in the pit of her stomach about who she is about to be spending a weekend with. 

Will drops himself into the passenger seat. 

“Hey,” he says, low and mumbled. 

“Hey,” she says, furrowing her brows, looking at him confused. “You good?” 

“Fine,” he says, clearly annoyed with her asking. She rolls her eyes. 

[fragilecapric0rnn]

for the WIP guessing game: HANDS. HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANDS. and also HEART and EYES and MOUTH <-- all said very calmly in a cool & collected manner

hehe LOU i am also SO calm and so COOOL about all of this :D :D

from aiaof 6:

Suddenly, it’s over. Eddie pulls away, hands on Steve’s face, something heartbroken and heartbreaking in his eyes.

AAAAAAND

Zeroing in on the one thing that’s somehow always been the focal point of all of his thought spirals, the foundation of his heart, laying side by side with him.

and a little pallette cleanser from Criminal

“I’ll explain later,” he says, her mouth now hanging open.

Send me a word, if it’s in my wip document I’ll answer your ask with the sentence that it appears in