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#my pace or Nothing
laundrybiscuits · 1 year
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Eddie’s doing some dumb trick with a couple of wooden spoons, clever hands making them move through the air in improbable ways, and Steve’s about to bite his whisk in half. 
He’d thought for sure that Eddie would be going home the first week; Edward Munson, 29, bartender/musician from Brighton with mismatched tattoos and wild hair, seemed like exactly the kind of pretentious asshole who would flame out early with some ill-advised hipster experimentation. If Steve (28, social worker from Indiana, USA) had been a complete asshole, he’d have said that Eddie didn’t have the fundamentals. That he was all sizzle, no steak. 
It’s a good thing Steve’s not a complete asshole, because Eddie’s been blowing the technicals out of the water so consistently it’s actually pretty fucking embarrassing. His signatures and showstoppers are making a very respectable showing too, except for the time he tried to incorporate some fresh pandan extract and fucked up the liquid ratio, leaving him with a dripping mess that Mary’d declined to even try. 
Afterwards, Steve had seen him leaning against a tree and struggling to light a cigarette. Steve went over for no particular reason, flicking on his lighter and holding it out like a peace offering. Eddie looked at him warily, but bent over the offered flame. 
“Can’t believe I made it through this one,” Eddie said after a moment, white smoke curling out of his mouth.
“Yeah, I feel like that every week.” Steve leaned against the tree next to Eddie. It was a big tree, the kind that’s probably been growing in this field since before England was even England. 
“Nah, but—c’mon, you know what I mean.”
“You had some bad luck with your showstopper. Happens to the best of us, man. Your signature hand pies looked sick as hell.” Steve’s own hand pies had turned out pretty well, so he was feeling generous. It had only been the third week; plenty of time for Steve to snag Star Baker, though even by that point, Steve had been getting the creeping feeling that he was being a little too American about the whole thing. Everyone else seemed to think competitiveness was some kind of deadly sin. It was—actually kind of nice, to get the same kind of nerves he’d always gotten before high school basketball games, but know that he wasn’t really fighting against anyone except himself in the tent.
Anyway, the very next week, Eddie had done some kind of kickass gothic castle with a shiny chocolate dragon and gotten Star Baker for the second time. Steve had clapped him on the back, appropriately manly. Eddie had pulled Steve into a real hug, arms tight around Steve’s shoulders and his whole lean body pressed up close and warm. It had only lasted a moment, and then Eddie had bounded over to Mel and Sue, both of whom he’s been thoroughly charming since the get-go. 
Steve thinks that when this season—or, uh, series—airs, no matter where Eddie places, the entire country is going to be just as charmed. Eddie’s going to get whatever kind of cookbook deal or streaming show he wants. Sponsors will take one look at that handsome face and charismatic grin, and a whole world of possibilities is going to open up for Eddie. 
Steve’s not in it for any of that, of course. He’s here kind of by accident, because Robin pushed him to apply, and it’s a goddamn miracle he’s been holding his own. Hell, it’s a miracle he’s in this country at all. When Robin had started looking at the Cambridge MPhil program in linguistics, she’d said wouldn’t it be great if and he’d snorted, yeah right, like I could ever get whatever job I’d need to move to another freaking country, but then—well. Things had happened the way they’d happened, and now Robin’s almost finished with her degree and Steve is taking time off from the London charity he works at in order to be on Bake Off. 
He’s told all this to the cameras, plus the stuff about how baking started as a way for him to connect with the kids he used to babysit in Indiana, blah blah blah. He thinks it’s probably too boring for them to air, but he gets that they have to try to get a story anyway. 
Eddie Munson, on the other hand, is probably going to be featured in all the series promos. Steve is rabidly curious about what Eddie’s story is, but he hasn’t worked up the nerve to just ask. It should be the easiest thing in the world. They’ve got kind of a camaraderie going, the two of them; a bit of a bromance, as Mel’s put it more than once. 
It’s true they get along pretty well, and the cameras have been picking up on it: on the way Eddie’ll wander over to Steve’s bench like a stray cat whenever they get some downtime, how they wind up horsing around sometimes, working off leftover adrenaline from the frantic rush of caramelization or whatever. There’s the time Eddie had hopped up on a stool to deliver some kind of speech from Macbeth, of all things, and overbalanced right onto Steve, who had barely managed to keep them both from careening into a stand mixer. Sue had patted Eddie on the shoulder and said, “Well, boys, that’ll be going in the episode for sure.”
They both get along with the other contestants just fine, of course, but they’re two guys of about the same age with no wife and kids waiting at home. It’s only natural that they’re gravitating together, becoming something like friends, Steve figures. It’s pretty great that he’s getting at least one real friend out of this whole thing.
It would be even greater if Steve could stop thinking about Eddie’s hands in decidedly non-friendly ways. With all the paperwork he’s signed, he can’t even complain to Robin about how Eddie looks with his sleeves pushed up to show off the tattoos on his forearms, kneading dough and grunting a little under his breath with effort. Steve had almost forgotten to pre-heat his oven that day. 
Two benches away, Eddie fumbles the spoons he’s been juggling with a clatter, and he bursts out laughing, glancing over at Steve like Steve’s in on the joke. Steve grins back, heart twanging painfully in his chest, and thinks: well, fuck. Guess this is happening.
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samanthamulder · 8 months
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THE X-FILES (1993-2018)
SEASON EIGHT — I will go on record to say this: that I have seen things that I cannot explain. I have observed phenomena that I cannot deny. And that as a scientist and a serious person it is a badge of honor not to dismiss these things because someone thinks they're BS.
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rrogueamendiares · 10 months
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Artblock ft. assorted unfinished triguns
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twiddletaffy · 1 month
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Tagged by @beezhive for WIP Wednesday! Thanks so much 😊💖💕 It is Friday but what are ya gonna do about it 🤷🏻‍♂️
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rotyolk · 8 months
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нoiнoiнoiнoi-san
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eerna · 1 year
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the effect of first time hearing the chorus joins Orpheus in Epic III is the closest humanity has gotten to magic
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whositmcwhatsit · 3 months
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Books of 2023. VILLAINS by V. E. Schwab.
Time for a NaNo Prep Reread! I love Victor and this vicious little family with my whole chest. This'll be my second time rereading VICIOUS, but only my first time rereading VENGEFUL.
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quetzalpapalotl · 3 months
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Love/soulmates but like as a curse, I love you pathetically desperately despite all that's good for me and can't live without you.
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lobotomyladylives · 1 month
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execution is far more important (and so much harder) than just having a good premise, so many writers think that their ideas will carry their work when that's literally just the jumping off point & counts for nothing if you can't actually do it justice. but unfortunately the publishing industry is now reinforcing these people's delusions by gleefully churning out grotesque gimmicky garbage that is the literary equivalent of fast food & not even good hot fresh fast food but like cold stale mcdonald's nuggets that you scrounged out of a dumpster behind a library. it's all marketed based on the tropes and fanfic tags and the editors clearly don't give enough of a shit to actually read the pathetic novels they're greenlighting before they go and spew them all over the digitally lobotomized borderline illiterate masses . booktok is smallpox. booktok is all 4 horsemen of the apocalypse . booktok killed my grandma
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orionis13 · 23 days
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Still catching up on fhjy but I’ve been thinking So Much about everything going on with Cassandra but I Can Make Anything About Astronomy and that’s about to be everyone else’s problem SO!!!
Thinking about the red rage stars that came from Cassandra. Thinking about the giant gods from the mountains of chaos and the god whose name has been erased. Thinking about the potential of a star god leeching power from Galicaea and Sol. Thinking about red giant stars.
A red giant is a dying star. When a star doesn’t have enough hydrogen for nuclear fusion, gravity acts on it harder and the compression makes it hotter, so it expands greatly and glows bright red, but since this heat is spread out over a greater surface area the surface becomes relatively cool. When the red giant’s core collapses in on itself, it becomes a white dwarf and ejects material into a nebula. This is the most violent stage of a star’s life.
It’s possible this giant god (Cassandra’s spouse) whose name has been erased was an old star or sun god, losing followers when sol came to prominence and being presumed dead, when it instead entered a red giant phase. They no longer have followers of their own to draw power from, so they leech off of the sun and moon for what little power they can get in their nameless state. Their influence is spread thin (like the demon that Lydia and her party fought) but they are fueled by this rage.
This dead god being a sun/star god for the giants would also explain the texts found being written in Giant, and would also explain the ties to Lucy Frostblade and her goddess, bc I’m sure there’s some sort of connection there
Also on a kind of meta level I know there’s a third party dnd compendium with a fallen star warlock patron that is p cool (i doubt they’re using that handbook specifically but there is a precedent for this thing)
On another meta level I think that the red giant pun is too good to pass up idk it’s fun to me
Anyway this might be nothing but it’s been on The Dome <333
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colorful-horses · 9 months
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My review of Miraculous Ladybug S5 so far is that it has a lot of scenes that I like in theory, but in action just end up being very silly and way over dramatic
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tincture-overcast · 8 months
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Wicked the Musical is a flawless masterpiece and here’s why
it touched my heart as a child and so no flaw it has means anything to me or my everlasting love for it
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tswwwit · 11 months
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By this time tomorrow I will be deep in the Zelda Oubliette, so before that....
Here's some WIP snippets!
Confessing It Epilogue:
“No. No, absolutely not.” Dipper waves his hands in front of himself rapidly, leaning on the arm of the couch. “We don’t eat our young, or.. That other thing.” He squints down at the… mouth . “I think you’re thinking of hamsters.”
“Small, mammal, hairy,” Teeth responds, counting the traits off on its fingers. “It’s basically the same thing, right?”
Oh, come on. “You’re small,” Dipper retorts, glaring now. Big jaws or not, the guy’s short - 
And goes ‘glrk’ as he’s hauled up by the back of his shirt, stumbling to his feet. Meeting Bill’s bright, golden, *irritated* gaze. 
Whoops. Dipper feels his face heat up. He starts tapping two fingers together, ducking hsi head, even though he’s braced on his toes on the floor. God, he’s *got* to get out of the habit of automatic retorts, it’s nowhere near the same *here*.
“You’re way smaller though,” He adds quickly, before Bill can do more than open his mouth. Pinching his fingers together narrowly, barely apart. “Just the tiniest-”
“Hmph.” Bill’s shoulders lose some of their tension, and he lets Dipper drop, shaking his head.. “Now that’s just factually untrue, sapling! You’re such a liar.” While it’s sharp and dangerous, he’s grinning again. “In fact…” His hand goes down to his fly. “I could prove it right now!”
“Hey!” Dipper jerks Bill’s arm back by his wrist, getting right up in his face. “Don’t flash your henchmen.”
Roleplay Thingie
“That was a hell of a chase, lamby.” Bill presses down on Dipper’s lower back, a grin in his voice. “Now a sheep like *this*, you don’t eat all at once.”
“Bastard.” Dipper glares at him over his shoulder, squirming under the pressure. Bill’s other hand is busy undoing one of the ribbons. A minor relief, though he almost wishes Bill would do more; this outfit’s ridiculous. Whenever he moves, the bells chime lightly; both embarrassing and tugging at his-
Dipper draws his shoulders up, teeth gritted. “You’re not going to get away with this.”
“I already have! You’re the guy who failed to get away from *me*,” Bill says, sounding amused. “And I’m gonna take my time with you.” His voice lowers as he nudges Dipper’s legs apart, seizing him by the hip. “Eating you up. Bit. By. Bit.”
Bonus entry, provided by: A Cat On the Keyboard
trfgggggggggggggggggggggggp0m-
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c28hunter · 4 months
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I am still emotional over what happened yesterday
That Jan saw my sign, that Bojan stole my soul, that I made Nace laugh...
HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO MOVE ON NOW?!
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smlbirdds · 6 months
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not a fan of how the ahsoka show was handled whatsoever :/
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