Jan. 10th, 2017

tekuates: (Default)
Welp, once again missed Chocolate Box signups due to a post-holiday cold. Time to start looking for promising requests to treat, I suppose!
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Title: sand scattered [ao3]
Fandom: Stranger Things
Rating: G
Pairing(s): none
Word Count: 1070
Author's Note: Written for Yuletide 2016 for celaenos.
Summary: Post-canon; Nancy is having dreams that suggest that not everything is over. Features Nancy, Joyce, Steve, and a bit of El.

Shall I be raised from death, the spirit asks.
And the sun says yes.

Read more... )
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Title: quarry [ao3]
Fandom: It Follows
Rating: T for canon-level creepiness
Pairing(s): none
Word Count: 100
Author's Note: Written for Yuletide Madness 2016 for thesleepingsatellite.

noun: quarry; plural noun: quarries
an animal pursued by a hunter, hound, predatory mammal, or bird of prey.
synonyms: prey, victim
a thing or person that is chased or sought.

Read more... )
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Title: think of cinnamon [ao3]
Fandom: True Detective
Rating: G
Pairing(s): Marty/Rust pre-slash
Word Count: 330
Author's Note: Written for Yuletide Madness 2016 for reserve.
Summary: UST-y haircuts, Marty gets rid of Rust's ponytail.

Marty's hands slide through Rust's hair, and Rust forgets to breathe.
Read more... )
tekuates: (Default)
The dish washer where I work is a Trumper.  As in, wrote, "Trump for president, Hillary for Prison" on his timesheet. He calls gay people "homos" and has actually (this very night, in fact), said the phrase "Obama should go back to Kenya". He could be convinced to change his mind, except that he doesn't trust major news outlets or minor ones. Only sketchy conspiracy theory sites. This is all obviously bad, but what makes it especially frustrating is that he, once a week or so, comes up to me (or one of my co-workers) to say something insane and usually bigoted. Finally tonight, after months of trying to ignore it, I told him that he wasn't going to convince me, that I thought he was wrong, that we shouldn't talk about it again. I think he got the message because he spent the rest of the evening looking at me like I killed his puppy, but knowing him he'll have forgotten (or "forgotten") tomorrow and I'll have to either listen silently, argue, or once again tell him to stop telling me his nutbag theories. Fun!

Add to that the two tables that mysteriously decided not to tip me whatsoever on an already slow ni, and I had a great night.



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September 2017


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