#I write things

[pluckyredhead]

Okay hear me out: DC 10 Things I Hate About You AU. (I guess really it's a Taming of the Shrew AU but honestly fuck The Taming of the Shrew. Leave that shrew alone.)

No capes (although working capes into this somehow would be hilarious).

Bruce won't let Tim (freshman) date until Jason (sophomore) dates. He let Dick (senior) date as a freshman and it was a mistake, mostly because he had to listen to so. Much. Drama.

No one will date Jason because he is terrifying.

Kon (who has no money) wants to date Tim so Bart comes up with the brilliant idea that they get Bernard (who has money) to pay Roy (Dick's weird ex-junkie ex-friend who went to rehab for a while and isn't afraid of anything and also there are RUMORS about his BIG SECRET) to date Jason.

(The BIG SECRET is Lian. Roy is a Teen Dad.)

Bernard isn't the villain in this or anything he just has money.

Tim doesn't even particularly want to date anyone anyway. He's busy mousing around the linkfarm.

Maybe Kon and Bernard wind up dating???

Anyway then the plot of 10 Things I Hate About You happens, I don't have to explain this to you.

Damian is like 9 and a turbo brat to everyone all the time.

The "Can't Take My Eyes Off of You" scene is exactly the same.

[redlegumes]

Dec 8th: Dead Give Away, Innit?

Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles

prompt: Idiots to Lovers | AO3: link | wc: 861 | rating: G | cw: none | tags: Wayne POV, first kiss, oblivious

Summary: Wayne is tired of Steve and Eddie, beating around the bush. It's obvious that when their 'kids' ask them to host a holiday party together they're ready for these two to get together too.

❆˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗❆

Wayne ducked his head out of the kitchen to see Eddie struggling, arms full ,trying to get through their small home’s door. He was about to help when he saw a familiar tan hand and scarred wrist help his nephew. Steve Harrington, back again.

Wayne waited a beat and then headed out after them. Eavesdropping was something he rarely did around Eddie, the boy deserved his privacy, but… he was curious what the two were up to this time. He hung back a little, listening to the young men while standing just inside the front door.

continues after the cut

He didn’t quite hear what Eddie said but he caught Steve’s reply.

“No, this time Max called.”

“What?”

“Yeah, she wanted to make sure we weren’t just ‘throwing it together’ last minute.”

“What a little ingrate,” Eddie exclaimed.

Wayne cracked the door open and watched as Steve leaned in toward Eddie, startling him into a low chuckle. “You love her.”

“You… no, you ‘Mama’ Harrington,” Eddie said, poking Steve in the chest, inches away from his face now. “You know, that’s what they call you.”

Wayne held his breath. Is this it?

Steve stepped back. “I guess I’ve got a reputation to uphold. So you better be bringing your ‘a’ game Eddie.”

“Sports ref-”

Wayne exhaled and stepped outside into the chill, Indiana winter air. Idiots. “-what’s all this now boys?”

Steve waved, and Eddie grinned before picking his gear back up. “The kids insisted we host a holiday party for them,” he huffed, loading an amp and his guitar into the back of the van.

“Yeah, very specific that we head it up,” Steve added, grimacing. “I don’t know why. I mean I’ve thrown some parties but-”

“Oh, really Stevie?”

Wayne folded his arms over his chest as he watched his boy hip check the always well groomed Harrington, slightly throwing him off balance. He also watched as the blush covered the young man’s face, and groaned lightly. The two had been fawning over each other, teasing, and then pulling back every time it looked like they might be finally getting somewhere. It’d been like that since April, and Wayne had just about had his fill.

Steve had already won him over. Harrington wasn’t given a free pass just for saving his nephew’s life, but in the following months he’d proven to be no fair weather friend to the Munsons. He shepherded those kids Eddie cared about too back and forth to physical therapy and just about anywhere else they begged him to. Steve would put on a show, all put upon, but Wayne saw the protective glint in his eye and the smile he hid every time he was ‘pressed’ to help them out. Steve was good people. But tripping over his tongue in front of Eddie was getting a little old.

Wayne suspected their extended friend group felt the same way if Steve and Eddie had been pushed to plan a holiday celebration together.

“The ‘Hair’ and his masterful party skills squandered on a lil event for a group of sophomores,” Eddie wheedled.

“Hey,” Steve protested. “And us, and Robin, she’s bringing Vickie. Jonathan and Nancy will be back in town, your DnD guys-”

“-my bandmates-”

“-both.” Steve tugged on one of Eddie’s curls. “It’s not just the kids.”

Wayne shifted his weight, fighting the urge to light up a cigarette. This has gone on long enough. “So, it sounds like you two are planning. Are the other older teens bringing anything to help out? You know, the couples other than you two. Decorations? Food?”

Steve blinked slowly. “Um, Everyone is bringing white elephant gifts. I recommended they bring snacks and drinks, but I don’t expect anyone to so I make sure to have plenty.”

“Who all is dating who now,” Wayne asked as casually as possible. If these two knuckleheads are going to keep being dense I might as well act oblivious. “I know the redhead is with Sinclair. But I never seem to know who Hopper’s kid is or isn’t seeing. And your Robin is seeing the Carmichael girl.” Steve was mouthing words without sound. Eddie had frozen where he stood. “But I suppose they wanted you two to host since you're the ones who have been together the longest and are still in town.”

Eddie’s face steadily turned bright scarlet. “What would, Wayne, what… Steve and me?”

“Aw, don’t worry none boy.” Eddie’s jaw dropped. “What,” Wayne chuckled, “was it supposed to be a secret? Jeez, you both doing this holiday get together is a bit of a dead give away innit?”

Steve’s voice was barely above a whisper. “Dustin, it was Dustin’s suggestion, and then everyone said we should…”

“Hmmm?” Wayne chose not to catch what he was saying. “Well, my two cents, if you care, is don’t get too worried about making it all perfect. Make sure you both have a good time too.” Wayne turned back to the house to hide his smile. “And don’t forget the mistletoe.”

…

Wayne parted the blinds a few minutes later to catch a quick glimpse of Steve and Eddie wrapped up in each other, kissing as flurries began to fall.

Finally.

2023 RedLegumes Steddiemas 1 2 3 4 5 6 10 SteddieHolidayDrabbles 1 2 3 4 6 8 9 10

[atharfi]

I made a thing! Because Big Bad Con Online happened and I came away from it with my brain on fire, and now I have to subject you all to the end result.

SPITE is a solo journaling game based on the Wretched and Alone and Breathless SRDs, and utilising the Twist mechanic from the Second Guess System. 

In this game, you're trying to defeat the creature that smiles at you from your reflection, no matter the cost. If you let It, It will eat your Past, your Present, and your Future.

Unless you eat them first. 

You can find it here on itch.io, free to download and play! If you do, I'd love to hear about your experience.

[erbodd]

What if? - Happy New Year

This is a very short story that was inspired to me by @plusvanity 's latest fanfiction Clarity in Kerosene. I strongly recommend reading it, and especially if you want to better understand this short drabble.

The first part is @plusvanity 's part, the second is my view of what comes next.

Grabbing the bottle of wine he went out in the cold, behind the house to have a small break. He lit up a cigarette and took a long drag out of it, almost wishing he could choke on the vaporous poison again. Hit after hit, a gulp of red wine followed to drown the bitterness in his soul and take away the visceral truth that he held the title for the biggest idiot in the human species.

He couldn't even chuckle at the irony of it all. One time wanting to be there for his mother to repair their broken relationship and she couldn't fucking care less.

He could imagine Olve choking on his own spit from guffawing at the hopeless pit he dug for himself in unawareness. Only if the bassist knew the tragic comedy that Kristian won with his final denial. He could almost hear his good friend calling him an underdog for choosing motherly love instead of drugs and alcohol.

But when did Olve become a good friend? 

Kristian must've been out of sync with his own personal chronicles because he couldn't find the exact moment in which he allowed the bassist to climb up in rank. What a strange anomaly . He couldn't be thinking at that clown in his most crooked and vulnerable shape.

His mind shifted focus, eventually wondering what were the others doing while he was loathing his existence, hiding from plain sight in the darkness.

They must be living the time of their lives.

The sound of footsteps muffled by snow pulled him from his thoughts. In the darkness, he couldn’t quite make out who was walking but he was certain they were getting closer to his location. Holding the neck of the wine bottle firmly, he got ready to defend himself if needed but relaxed when he recognized him.

“What in the living Hell are you doing here?” “I felt something was off with your story, so I came to check if my hunch was correct.” Olve explained, taking a drag of his cigarette. “Why did you lie to me?”

Varg noted the use of “me” instead of “us”, showing how he was the only one who counted. He still replied, not in the mood for an argument.

“It was supposed to be just my mother and I tonight. I wanted to mend our relationship but she had organized this stupid party I knew nothing about and-” “And now you’re the idiot.” “Right.” he conceded before adding : “Asshole.” “Righteous.” he snorted. “Don’t you want to escape from this?” “I do, but then I’d only be digging my grave more.” “You really think it can get worse than her ignoring you like that, and I bet, treating you like a servant?”

Olve was shooting in the dark there, but Varg couldn’t keep a straight face, meaning he hit right.

“Come on! We’re having fun and I want you to be part of it. It’s not the same without you.”

What kind of confession was that, Varg wondered. Yet somehow, it echoed the one he made to himself mere minutes ago. Maybe Olve as well had grown into considering Varg a good friend and he wouldn’t be surprised about it. Giving one last look inside the house where he clearly wasn’t missed, he agreed. Olve’s face lit up and they went back to the party together.

Varg’s arrival was celebrated and soon, Varg had a beer in his hand and Olve’s arm on his shoulders. Plenty of drinks and weed later, it was getting close to midnight. Everyone moved naturally closer to their partner, and Varg noticed Olve came closer to him, somehow as expected. They were standing by the corner of the room, where Varg had more or less retreated.

“Ready to start the new year with a blast? I feel this one is going to be really good!”

Varg simply nodded. They all counted the seconds down together and come midnight, kisses were being exchanged. Varg felt his friend leaning closer and laying his chin on his shoulder.

“I’m not drunk enough to kiss you.” Varg flatly stated. “But I am.”

Those were his last words before he clumsily grabbed Varg’s chin and connected their lips. He was smiling as they parted.

“Happy new year.” “Fuck off!”

Varg pushed him away and looked at their friends with a slight panic, but no one seemed to have noticed them thankfully.

[divider created by @sisterlucifergraphics]

[bebx]

Relationship: Reed Richards/Victor von Doom 

Summary:

"Are you two gonna fight or fuck?" Wade asked. "Because it's getting a little too hard to tell here."

Reed went on a rescue mission. Victor wanted to go home. Logan fought against an urge to stick his claws into someone's gut, and Wade was being Wade.

DoomReed fic featuring Deadpool and Wolverine (and Johnny Storm)!!

[impossibleobservationkryptonite]

How I learned to be a better librarian, or at least how to be a professional librarian

There's a lot of stuff that they don't teach you in library school, on how to be a librarian. It's stuff that you just have to learn on your own. And the professors tell you that to an extent. But I don't know if you're like me, I didn't really believe them until I started my job. They tell you really, that this is for the betterment of becoming a librarian, but working in a library is different than learning about it in a classroom.

One thing that I learned is that, hey I can have a very loud voice when necessary. I learned that as I was yelling over the roar of the children's department "NO RUNNING PLEASE." And the kids stopped running for the most part. (I'd still say it if they kept doing it.) I also realized that you're allowed to talk in normal tones at the library. You're allowed to use a regular "inside talking voice" rather than whispers. I'm a librarian; I'm not gonna rat you out to your parents if you ask me where Colleen Hoover is (I will however give you different suggestions based on wanting Colleen Hoover books.). Just please tell it to me in a normal voice. (I also found out I sound like my older sister when I speak loudly. Which is something I'm filing away for my future therapist at a later date.)

They don't tell you how to deal with any patrons in person. Patrons are fun to interact with normally. They give you different ideas of what they want, and what they're looking for. I once got to help a patron looking for a specific photograph of the Rockettes and pizza. (Ask me about him! He's awesome!) I had to deal with a patron who was scanning her books (trying to), and would look back at me each time one didn't scan, and tell me that they didn't scan. Not asking me what to do, not asking if there's another way to do this, just telling me that they wouldn't scan. I stood up and scanned one with the library's specific barcode (she was using the ISBN barcode one), and handed it to her as it came up on the screen. She huffed and re-scanned everything. Was that petty? a little. Not too worried about it though because this was the third time she and I talked about how to scan books at the self-check desk.

You learn everything you need to know on the job. It's interesting that getting a master's is required to become a professional librarian. And it's immediate. You get thrown right in with the patrons, your coworkers, how to create booklists, how to curate passive programs. It's just interesting that this is required. I'm happy I went to library school.

I've realized that, as a librarian, you kind of just are there. You're a person who fades into the background until a patron has a question for you. And obviously, the most asked question for us is "Will you watch my kids for me while I grab my books?" That answer will always be no. Why are you leaving your children with a stranger (me. Your kids don't know me, and I don't know them. There are 50 other kids in this room, how do I know which is which?)?

I cannot stress this enough. Invest in a journal. I just invested in another one. It keeps me rather sane in the times of bootyholes and punches. It also helped with school, and me writing down ideas of stuff that I want to do at my job. So that way I don't forget and can work on it when I'm at actual work.

I also learned that your boss isn't going to tell you what you can do. I mean they will, but you can also definitely just do some of the things they don't explicitly tell you that you can't do. I started a passive program where I put all of the Where's Waldo characters taped up throughout the department, and when the kids asked about them I told them they get to rehide waldo and his friends. The only rule was waldo et al. couldn't go into trash cans nor could they go into bags going home. They also did not have to tell us where they hid them. It's been about two years, so it's about that time that I reprint Waldo and Friends and do it all again.

Scavenger hunts are your best friends. They are deceptively easy. The kids get a sticker for completing it. And they also get to see different parts of the room that they're in regularly. It helps them learn about different parts of the library, and is fantastic.

[ijustreallylovedaredevil]

a series of fics in which Obi Wan Kenobi having a disability somehow saves the galaxy

behold, my magnum opus

#1. Iviin’hiibi te Tuur- 16k, 11 chapters, complete (+ongoing bonus works)

Obi Wan has never resented the seizures he's experienced, not exactly, but he wasn't particularly fond of them either.

(And then they save the galaxy.)

#2. Uja Nejah - 34k, 28 chapters, complete

Obi Wan was diagnosed with diabetes a few months after his return from Melida/Daan. The Healers assured him it would only have minor impacts on his life and wouldn't change much for him. It does, but it somehow works out all the better in the end because of it.

#3. Gev’or’dayc O’r - 62k, 30 chapters, complete

After an attempt on Obi Wan’s life leaves him in a precarious state, and the clones concerned about the person trying to finish the job, they make a significant decision that involves the entirety of the 212th faking their deaths, disappearing into wild space, and working tirelessly to help their General get better. While Anakin and Ahsoka are investigating the attempted assassination, Obi Wan has to come to terms with the possibility he might not get better from this, and what his life will look like if that’s the case.

#4. Mirsh’prudiise - 45k, 19 chapters, complete

Obi Wan is diagnosed with psychosis after Melida/Daan.

 When he returned, he was cracked, portions of him split from other pieces, reflected in mirrors, distant. There were other things in him, when he got back. Things that were not him, that he now had to carry around, weighing on him heavily.

#5. Nor’taakur be Beskar - 47k, 23 chapters, complete

Months before the clones are discovered, before the outbreak of war, before Geonosis and everything that occurs therein, Obi Wan is seriously injured in a speeder crash. He still finds his way to the front lines and the galaxy is better for it. 

#6. Urakto Videkir - 2.5k, 1 chapter, complete (future work forthcoming)

Obi Wan realizes he's quite forgotten to tell the troopers he doesn't eat by mouth. Surely this will not come back to haunt him later (said no one ever).

#7. The only thing strong enough to kick my ass is me - 5k, 1 chapter, complete (likely to be future works)

Obi Wan assumed the joint paint was part of getting older, of using his saber for endless hours while fighting a war in exhausting conditions. He certainly didn't think there was anything else going on. 

#8. Cinar’tal Or’baar - 9k, 2 chapters, complete

An unexpected complication throws a wrench into the chronic illness Obi Wan has been coping with for years. Further complications arise, naturally, because nothing in his life can be easy.

#9. Irud bal Motuun - 5.5k, 3/26 chapters, WIP

When Anakin abandoned Obi Wan on Geonosis, leaving him to to fight Dooku on his own, both he and the galaxy are forever changed.

Based on the excellent art of @charrhylis

(updated December 12, 2023)

[failedaethercore]

To the depths of the dream world

✧𖤐✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧𖤐 ✩

This is my second fic ever, so please be gentle? ;;

This is some gender neutral self insert fic (I originally made this for Rafayel, but I also tried to make it for any of the LIs, but in a way it would work for a lot of fandoms?)

I just wanted to write something that was ultimately comforting, even if it was a little...scary to get there.

Warnings: nightmares, mention of blood, possible trauma. Please be advised before reading this fic.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

While his hands stroke your hair, your eyes slowly close. Your head is lain upon his lap, the smell of rain mixed with the ocean and drifted through the windows. All you can hear is his heartbeat, and the whisper of the shore nearby.

Before you know it, you are standing in an ancient forest, surrounded by beautiful trees that look as if they were made of crystal. The leaves hang like shards of light, glowing softly in many different hues. The smell of blood surrounds you, and before you can look for the source, the leaves fade to darkness. The last thing you can see is a pair of eyes staring at you, the fraction of a moment sears a brand on your soul with only the stare of a strange…creature? The unforgettable glow distracts you from the fact that you can feel yourself plummeting, falling from great heights into the darkness that swallows the last glow of the trees before your eyes could see no more.

You fell for what felt like a century, never being able to tell if your eyes are open or shut. All you could feel was the weightless pull of what you assumed would be the bottom of this pit. And you could still smell the blood. When you are no longer sure if you are awake or dreaming, and begin to question how you even came to be here, in this place. When…

A voice. Soft, whispering past the silent and motionless wind surrounding you.

"Take a deep breath."

It is a more masculine, deep voice. For a moment, it doesn't seem you can process the words. When you finally can, you take a deep breath, inhaling the void around you deep into your lungs.

It was at the shut of your mouth that you feel a sudden plunge into what could only be a cool, deep ocean. Suddenly you are overwhelmed, your senses filled to the brim with smells and sensations, the caress of a current pulls you in a new direction, guiding you through what must be the deepest ocean you've ever thought of.

When you adjust to the gentle tug of the current that pulls you ever deeper, you realise your eyes are open, because they can now see a soft glow at the bottom. When you suddenly remember you are underwater, you start to struggle. And then, the voice, this time louder, closer.

"Exhale."

There is almost a lilt to it, as if a song is about to fall from the tip of their tongue. You immediately struggle against the urge, before the voice, more urgently, begs of you. "Hurry! Exhale!" The eruption of bubbles catch in the glow below, and fear grips you as you cannot imagine drowning all alone in this near void. You stare up as the only air in these depths escapes upwards, rushing ever faster to escape you.

You struggle against the urge to try and take air into your lungs, knowing there is none to be had. When you finally accept that you will drown, unknown and alone, you let your mouth open and drag in the first gulps of water. But for some reason you feel as if you are taking in air, breathing normally, as if there wasn't this gentle flow surrounding you and filling your senses. The soft smell of the salty water is still everywhere, inescapable.

The glow becomes greater, taking your fragile form into itself, and finally takes you into a world of feelings and vibrations, glowing and singing fill you while you try to focus your eyes on something. Anything. And then the glow changes from kaleidoscopic hues akin to rainbows…to a shade of crimson. And the water is no longer salty and comforting, but iron-rich and tasting of lethal intentions and danger. Your skin shivers as tears begin to prick your eyes, you feel the heat behind your eyes as sorrow and terror grip your heart, and your skin grows freezing cold.

✧𖤐✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧𖤐 ✩

Suddenly, with a shout, you are shaken awake by a soft pair of hands. Your eyes open to a soft glow on handsome features. Your eyes finally find something, focusing on eyes. His eyes. A soft glow fills the air between you both, as tears fill your eyes, your vision blurring. He places his hand over your cheek, stroking it softly with his thumb and carefully brushing a falling tear off your skin.

"What happened, my Muse?" His voice…it sounds just like the one you had heard in the…nightmare. For some reason you were filled with a deep sense of dread and fear as you thought back on where your dreams took you. You blink away the tears, and let yourself focus on him once again. He had been there, guiding you through the horror.

He had somehow…known. But at the end, when things became too much…he had ripped you from the cacophony filling every sense. And now, you were here, in his arms, his overwhelming scent. His warmth.

He was your sentinel, always guarding you, in whatever way he could. And somehow it never crossed your mind that he would follow you wherever you went, no matter where that was, just to make sure you were safe.

He was still caressing you, his other hand gently smoothing over your hair, tingles erupting everywhere he touched. "You're safe, there's no need to worry…" His smile is soft and gentle, steadying your beating heart as you gave a smile of your own in return. He was your rock, your support. He protected you, somehow even in your dreams. You reach out and place your hand against his jaw, your fingertips brushing against his cheek.

"Thank you…" His name fell from your lips more as a whisper, as the tug of sleep took you once again. "I love you, Muse. Rest…I'll be here." The soft rumble of his voice fills you with more warmth, as you let yourself be taken. This time, your dream is sweet and warm, filling you with a feeling of contentment.

✧𖤐✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧𖤐 ✩

a/n: I wanted to make this something that gave relief for those awful nightmares that drag you further down without salvation. He gives you comfort when you don't know how to seek it out.

Sorry if it was a little heavy, or poorly written. I'm still very new to fics, I just wanted to write something today, and this came to mind.

I hope it at least wasn't completely unpleasant, and you have a good day. Thank you for reading, I appreciate it!

[dreambigdreamz]

i just wanna be able to read/watch something without a dozen fic ideas popping up into my writer brain at once to be added to my 50+ wips list, is it too much to ask 🥹

[floursramona]

Seeded

Din Djarin x GN!Reader

Rating: G

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Fluff, a ridiculous amount of it, pining, canon-typical violence, flowers, I have minimal knowledge of the Star Wars universe, this may or may not be the beginning of a series, no use of pronouns, no use of y/n, some gendered nicknames, pre-relationship

Summary: Handing out flowers all day wasn’t exactly living the dream, but it got your bills paid. A stranger rolls through your neighborhood and you find yourself drawn to him. Oddly enough, he seems to feel the same.

Notes: This is my first ever venture into the Star Wars universe! Writing-wise, that is. I've consumed enough fic to last me a lifetime and I wanted to contribute my brain worms to the community as well. This idea came to me earlier this month, when I wanted to push myself to do something for Valentine's Day and now it's finally blossomed (ha) into… whatever this is. I may continue if I get an idea of where to go from here. Hope y'all enjoy and let me know what you think!

Cross-posted on Ao3

Handing out flowers all day wasn’t exactly living the dream, but it got your bills paid. Working at a plant shop was a unique experience and you couldn’t exactly say you regretted applying. On easy days you got to take your favorite post, and here you were, with a basket of cut wildflowers and enticing passersby to come inside. Your boss had always been eager to drum up business and what better than giving something away? 

On the busy and overpopulated planet of Coruscant, most people didn’t spare you a second glance, but tourists were always willing to stop and take a free and beautiful flower. From there, it wasn’t hard to convince them to come inside to see the whole garden and the workers inside were masters at sales pitches. Almost nobody left without a new plant for their homes or a bunch of flowers for their sweethearts. 

Standing outside a shop all day was rough sometimes, the sun beating down or the nasty smells but you always find yourself passing the hours people-watching. Even on your off time, you love sitting outside, making up stories and personalities for every being that walked your way. Which is exactly why, when you see the Mandalorian pass by you the first time, you are completely and utterly captivated.

It isn’t that you never saw warrior-types, no, in fact you’d seen many armored figures pass your shop. But you’d never seen one quite like this, covered head-to-toe in perfect, gleaming chrome. 

The armor is the first thing that catches your eye. The second is his posture.

If you had a less careful eye, you would have taken one glance and thought that he was inexperienced. Untouched armor is a dead giveaway for someone who hasn’t actually seen battle. Watching him stalk past your shop tells a different story. 

Even if he wasn’t wearing the armor, you bet he would still have that confident, broad stature. He isn’t peacocking, not strutting like he owns the place, but every bit of him says “I know who I am”. And Maker, do you like the look of that. 

Your inner musings silence all at once when you see his helmet turn towards you. The T-shaped visor gives him an intimidating brow and you feel yourself freeze, unable to look away. He isn’t anywhere near you, at least 10 other people walking past, but you feel like the only two on the street. You wonder if he feels the same.

A hand grabs your shoulder and the bubble suddenly pops, a sharp gasp leaving your mouth as you turn around. 

“Whoa! Didn’t mean to startle you,” It’s just your boss. You feel the hair prickle on the back of your neck and you’re tempted to turn back around, but he’s still speaking. 

“What? Oh, sorry. Just a little lost in thought.”

He chuckles at you, shaking his head. “I’ve just come to relieve you. Go take your lunch.”

Nodding, you hand him your basket of flowers and try not to rush inside. Your nosy coworkers would want to know what had you all flustered and what would you say? An armored covered stranger walking on the other side of the street looked at you? And you couldn’t even say for sure if he did, because he wore a helmet?

You chuckle at yourself for being silly. He was just another tourist. You see plenty of attractive people walking down the street every day.

But none of them usually spared you a second glance, your traitorous brain supplies. 

You shake your head to banish the thought, busying yourself with collecting your bag and credits where you keep it locked up in the back. You take your leave without saying anything, sure that your voice would give your unsteadiness away.

As you walk through the busy streets, you can’t help but fantasize a little longer. What if that armored stranger had been looking for a flower shop? You can’t imagine him wanting a floral arrangement but everyone could use a plant or two for their backyard. Does he even live here or is he from another planet? A silly pang runs through you as you imagine him living off-world - it means you likely wouldn’t see him again.

This time, you roll your eyes at yourself, entering your usual cantina for a hot meal. As the smells overtake you, you force yourself to leave the silly thoughts behind.

“Hey hon! Take a seat and I’ll be right with you,” The kind barmaid, Giala, who loves to waste time gossiping at your table, greets you and you smile. 

“You know what I want, Gee, I’ll be over at the booths. She grins back and nods, bussing the table in front of her. 

You take out your holopad to scroll through the news, but it’s quickly forgotten. You sit facing the door and a rowdy group of what appear to be businessmen draw your attention. You do your best not to stare, not that people tend to notice you much anyway. You find yourself rolling your eyes again as you listen to their conversation, and this time it’s apparent because Giala walks up to your table chuckling. 

“Those fellas are gonna be trouble, aren’t they,” she says, less of a question and more of a statement. She puts down your steaming hot bowl of… well, you weren’t always sure what was in it, but it was always delicious. 

“Eh, perhaps, but those types are usually harmless.” You’re quickly captivated by your food, hungry after a long morning on you feet. Your spoon is loaded up and on its way to your mouth when Giala says, “That shiny one over there might be a real issue though.”

It couldn’t be. You turn your head- it is. 

The armored stranger from earlier is standing by the bar. He’s obviously not there for a drink, too rigid and hands practically gripping the edge of the bartop. He’s scanning the room and once again locks glares with you, but the spell is quickly broken by Giala blocking the view when she crouches down in front of you. 

“I overheard someone say there was a bounty hunter sniffing around. Wouldn’t you think it’s him, just by the look of him?” Her eyes look at you eagerly and you peer around her again to study the figure. He’s looking back down at something in his hand. Something red and flashing, the reflection showing on his visor and it clicks for you.

“He’s a Mandalorian. I think. Supposedly some of the most feared warriors in the galaxy,” Something stirs within you that’s not quite fear, however. “Do you still work for that sleazeball manager?”

You look back toward her but before she can even get a sound out, shots are ringing out through the cantina. You thank the stars that you got your usual booth today, as you hit the ground and drag your friend under the table with you. She’s whimpering and covering her face, but you’re carefully watching the running feet from your position. 

Once the shots cease, which doesn’t take long, you hold just a bit longer. You can’t see anyone moving anymore, so you lean slowly towards the edge of the table for a better vantage point. You hear a few clicks and shuffling movements and when your head is out far enough, you see him again, arranging the cantina owner to drag him out by the cuffs on his wrist. 

A few other people are cowering under their tables, and there’s some scorch marks on the walls, but it doesn’t appear that anyone’s actually hurt. Well, except for the scumbag the Mandalorian’s got cuffed, but the groans he’s making give away his survival. 

The Mandalorian’s about to leave but he scans the room again, and, for what you hope isn’t the last time, meets your gaze. He nods- at you, you think? You hope- and leaves. For as intriguing as he was, suddenly you’re hoping that maybe he doesn’t pay your shop a visit.

___

Of course, he does. Well, not exactly, but just about a week later, you’re stood in front of the shop again and you spot the Mandalorian on your street again. Your stomach does a flip, partially out of fear that you might be the next one in cuffs, and partially at the thought that you might not be entirely opposed to that. 

He seems to be just as focused as the first time you saw him, but oh, how wrong you are. You’re staring again, you realize, because his helmet turns towards you, and your stomach is flipping again because now he’s making his way towards me, oh Maker, please tell me I didn’t commit some heinous crime in my sleep that placed a thousand credit bounty on your head and-

“Excuse me.” 

You snap out of your spiral at the sound of his voice, a lovely, deep, gravelly voice- 

“You work here.”

Fuck, you’ve gotta stop getting lost in your thoughts. He asked you a question. Except- he didn’t?

“Yes?” You manage to make your voice sound somewhat normal, if a bit higher pitched than usual.

“I assume you see a lot of people that go by,” he says and shit, it’s more than a little intimidating to have his attention on you. He’s fully facing you this time, only an arm’s length away. His hands are just resting by his sides, but the sheer amount of weaponry you see on him is not usual, even for this planet. 

“You’re not here to arrest my boss, are you?” you blurt out and already you’re regretting it. He tilts his head at you and it’s almost adorable, making you think of a confused loth-cat. 

“I don’t think so. I’m looking for this man. I’m told he frequents this area, and I’ve seen you out here every time I pass by,” he takes out a device that lights up with a hologram of a scruffy-looking human. Sure, you’ve seen him before, but wait- every time he’s passed by? As in more than once?

“I thought you found your bounty when you shot up the cantina last week,” and you reprimand yourself again mentally. Sure enough, he doesn’t seem happy with your phrasing when he shifts to cross his arms.

“Sorry- ‘shot up’ is a bit much. I just meant- I don’t always see that kind of… excitement around here. And we don’t exactly get a lot of folks who look like you either. So it’s a bit strange seeing you back so soon. W-why are you back again?” you’re babbling, and you know it. 

He doesn’t need to answer the question and yet he does, “I was completing a job and now I’m here for another one,” he lifts up the hologram again, “Do you know this man?”

“‘Know’ is a strong word. Have I seen him? Of course,” and you go on to describe how he often slinks around, a pickpocket who preys on the unsuspecting tourists of the area. You babble on far too long with a description of the habits you’ve picked up merely by observing, his full attention overwhelming you into running your mouth. 

“Thank you,” the Mandalorian says, when you finally finish. He tucks away the hologram device but he stays standing there for another second, just looking at you. Waiting for what, you’re not sure. He’s already asked what he needs for you. Maybe he would have said something, but you beat him to it. 

“Would you like a flower?” You curse yourself internally, you really just say the stupidest shit when you’re flustered. He’s still just standing there, fuck, fuck, please respond-

“I don’t- I don’t need a flower,” he says, hesitantly. 

You scramble through your basket for the right bloom, something not overly feminine, something that would fit his personality, something that’s not already dying and there-

“Here,” you thrust your hand out awkwardly at him, “just take it. A-as thanks.”

He cocks his head again, as if confused. “For what? I was the one seeking information.” 

“For getting rid of that asshole. In the cantina? He was a real scumbag and treated my friend like shit. I don’t know what kind of price was on his head, and I don’t know what you did with him, but the planet’s better without him. So thanks for that… you, uh, did a good job.”

He stays silent this time and Maker, that blank stare just pierced right through you. Before you lose your nerve, you reach out and wedge the stem in an empty slot of his bandolier. It looks almost silly, on a man so threatening but also fits in a strange sort of way. The spray of light blue blends quite nicely with the rest of his ensemble and the small buds don't actually attract too much attention. It reflects on his chest plate and you let yourself admire him for another moment. 

“Thank you,” he finally says, interrupting your unashamed ogling. “For your time and your token.”

“Anytime, Mandalorian.” The grin comes easily to your face.

He turns to leave but not before studying you for another moment and saying, “May our paths cross again someday.”

You watch him walk away and wonder if he really means it.

——————

[apsiringghostmusicians]

8 ways to Get to Know Fandom Peeps Better:

Thank You for the Tag: @abarbaricyalp

3 Top Ships: SamBucky, SamBuckySteve, and Reylo. *Top mentions: SamSteve and Stucky

First Ship Ever: Buffy and Spike, Delena, and Joey/Pacey

Last Song I heard: Take on Me by Aha, one of my favorite tunes.

Favorite Childhood Book: Corduroy, such a sweet book about a bear ( @interruptedspacial Winnie origin story gives me those feels), for older me (tweens) it was the Giver, and for my teen years- Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants and The Nanny Diaries.

Current Reads: The Fiancé Dilemma by Elena Armas & The Fire Between High & Lo by Brittainy Cherry. Re-Listening to The Player by Claire Contreras.

Current Watch: Wicked (Movie), I love the Broadway musical, Cynthia Ervio and Jonathan Bailey are some of my favorite people. TV wise always revisiting Gilmore Girls. Also finishing the newest seasons of Heartstopper & Dragon Prince

Currently Consuming: Fanfics because comfort is a must and Sebastian Stan Content.

Constantly Craving: A good iced coffee or chai latte, a cozy sleep and Crinkle Fries.

No pressure tagging:

@elegantmusicdragon @thatmexisaurusrex @musette22 @metalbvcky @interruptedspacial @saveatruckrideoptimusprime @delightful-mirth @rohirriiim

[pluckyredhead]

how about an arrowfam or superfam-centric 5+1?

100% it would be "Five Times an Arrowkid Called Ollie 'Dad.'" Featuring:

Roy saying it when he's very very small and half-asleep after a night of patrol and Ollie's whole chest seizes up because holy shit he has a KID now.

Connor saying it very tentatively after Ollie comes back to life like he's afraid Ollie will run away again, and Ollie just smiles and ruffles his hair and pretends he's not tempted to flee because he's going to fuck this up again.

Mia by accident and then they both pretend it didn't happen because uhhh her real dad was...yeah. The next time she says it it's without that immediate flinch and from then on she uses it about as often as Roy does (like 10% of the time they address Ollie).

Cissie very angrily because actually fuck you, she didn't ask to be one of Green Arrow's 97 illegitimate children, she was just fine on her own. (She will calm down, it's just that anger is her go-to response when she's uncomfortable.)

Honestly #5 should probably be Robert Jr. but I don't care about him and I REALLY don't want him and Emiko to both be in continuity because that's weird. Maybe Emiko by accident? Or, funnier - Kyle by accident and neither he nor Ollie notices until like 10 minutes later. (Roy laughs so hard.)

I have no idea what the +1 punchline is so I'm just going to say it's Ollie calling Dinah "daddy." No, I didn't mix them up.

[redlegumes]

If suction were all it took...

Written for @steddiemicrofic Challenge Prompt: Suck | WC: 480 | Rated: M | CW: none | AO3 Link

Summary:

Driving around, parking, and talking had become a regular staple for Steve and Eddie. But after picking up a difficult to eat treat, Steve decides to provide another treat while they wait for the first to melt.

Warning: Almost smut under the cut ↜(⃔•w•)⃕

"No, you just have to suck it harder."

"Eddie you’ve got to be kidding. No way."

"I’m telling you it’s excellent."

"Only because you have a warped idea of excellence."

Eddie snorted in reply.

Steve set his milkshake back into his cup holder. "Mine is practically rock solid Eds. And trust me, I used to make these things. This shop's ratios are super fucked up. I dunno how you can pull anything into that straw without hurting yourself," he added irritatedly, watching Eddie suck on his own milkshake.

The disagreement vanished from Eddie's face. "Oh. So, you’re impressed sweetheart?"

It was Steve's turn to snort. He felt his cheeks warm slightly as he looked back out the front window of the beemer into the dark outside. He'd flicked the headlights off. “If suction were all it took, then maybe..." The skin on the back of his neck prickled as he let the next words leave his lips. "All that shake needs is to warm up a bit first. Then I could get it down." His eyes darted back to Eddie, no longer drinking his shake, but absently chewing on the straw as he stared at Steve.

"Heat it up, suck it down? That's your uh, advice Harrington?"

"Yeah," Steve huffed a little. He looked around the abandoned parking lot they’d pulled into again. "I might wait for mine to melt in the back seat." He wiped his palms on the tops of his thighs, hoping to rid himself of excess sweat. Before he could chicken out or potentially overthink Eddie's reaction, Steve got out of the car. He leaned down, pulling the driver's seat up toward the dash before he shut the front door and sat back in the spacious area he'd created. 

Eddie had frozen in place.

He could stay up there, Steve thought, listening to the stereo lowly playing some tape Eddie’d shoved in when Steve picked him up, the sound of the car engine idling almost as loud. But… if he comes back, I’m just going to go for it.

Steve's heartbeat grew louder than the other sounds of the car when he saw Eddie set his shake down. Moments later, Eddie's long limbs were clambering into the back seat. He mostly crashed into Steve before sitting, a leg still draped over Steve's. 

Eddie began to chuckle, breathing heavy. "Alright big boy. Is this going how you pictured it?"

Steve pushed Eddie's leg off before tugging his hips over. He knelt on the car floor, between Eddie's knees. "I hoped something a little more like this."

Eddie inhaled air so fast Steve thought he might choke as his fingers grazed the other man’s fly.

"You hoped," Eddie whispered.

Steve's hands trembled just the slightest as they ran over Eddie's growing bulge. He met Eddie’s eyes and asked, "heat it up and suck it down?"

"Fuck yes. Please."

*Obligatory 'and they're not even dating.'

[atharfi]

salvage.

So after I wrote a 700k+ word interactive novel, I really wanted to see if I was still, like....capable of short form, and also very much wanted to get a specific idea out of my head. And so after very many false starts and arguing with Twine (ChoiceScript's multireplace is so convenient, oh my god), turns out yeah! Yeah I can still do short form! Amazing!

And since I have a ttrpg called Marrowbreak coming up and we're releasing some free games in the lead-up to it, this felt like a good excuse to stop tinkering with the damn thing and send it out finally.

SO!

salvage. is a short interactive story about biting grief, alienation, and a beloved devil at your door. More importantly, it's free to play on itch.io! You can find it here: https://atharfi.itch.io/salvage Be sure to scroll down to see the content warnings, and I hope you enjoy it!

[erbodd]

Dark Enlightenment

Dark Enlightenment Chapters: 8/11 Fandom: Shining (Sweden Band), Bandom Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Niklas Kvarforth/Christian Larsson, Christian Larsson/Niklas Kvarforth, Erik Danielsson/Niklas Kvarforth, Niklas Kvarforth/Erik Danielsson, Rainer Tuomikanto/Christian Larsson, Christian Larsson/Rainer Tuomikanto, Niklas Kvarforth/Original Female Character(s) Characters: Niklas Kvarforth, Christian Larsson, Andreas Larsen, Original Female Character(s), Peter Huss, Ulvhedin Hoest, Kristian "Gaahl" Espeda, Erik Danielsson, Rainer Tuomikanto Additional Tags: Masturbation, Light Dom/sub, Orgasm Edging, Consensual Harm, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Fluff and Angst, Drug Abuse, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Knifeplay, Blood Kink, Consensual, Mental Health Issues, Group Sex, Minor Violence, Come Swallowing, Master/Pet, Friends With Benefits, Ritual Sex, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, Self-Harm, Aggression, Strangulation, Hallucinations

Summary: He had lied, having nothing special to do besides going on a bender to forget all that happened and wait until Christian would allow them to meet up. Nothing could make him wait better than an excess of alcohol, drugs and sex.

[This chapter is dedicated to @darklydeliciousdesires ]

[divider created by @sister-lucifer]

[bebx]

Relationship: Reed Richards/Victor von Doom 

Summary:

It's Christmas and Reed is celebrating with the Fantastic Four. He wishes he didn't feel as lonely as he does. No, actually, Reed wishes he could stop himself from thinking about a specific someone: a friend he's lost.

But it's Christmas and Victor is not here. (Victor's alive, but Reed finds himself mourning him anyway. It's... complicated, but everything is complicated when it comes to Victor.)

Dedicated my traditional Christmas fic this year to Doomreed. Merry Christmas y'all!