#fanfic synopsis

[darfeld]

Star Trek Wars

Trying to escape some remnant of the Empire, Luke jump to hyperspace a bit too close from a Black Hole. When he emerge into regular space, his hyperdrive is fried and his computer can't say were he is in the galaxy. In fact, it seems he actually jumped galaxy. With no frame of reference he doesn't know he also traveled through time.

Fortunately, a huge spacecraft soon arrives. Communication between ship take some time to establish, but with the help of R2 (and presumably from the people on the ship working on the problem too), they are able to establish audio contact. The troubles aren't over, however, since they don't speak the same language or any language known to Luke, who regret the absence of 3PO. Finally, the huge space craft decide too invite Luke to fly his X-Wing into the shuttle bay, through means of elaborate shuttle dance. Luke, having little options at the moment and sensing no ill intention from the people of the big ship, accept. With the help of a woman which Luke later learned she was counselor Deanna Troi, Luke's language is analyse by the computer of the space craft named Enterprise. R2's "binary" language is also deciphered and know Luke can hear him speak in basic, which is weird. He suspected his robotic friend had a flourished language but he did know half of it as it turns out. R2 is equally weirded out to hear Luke speak in binary. Picard allow Luke to stay on board as emissary of another culture, and promise to help him get back to his galaxy if the occasion arise. It might take a while. Luke allow the engineer of the Enterprise to have a look at his X-Wing. Geordi is baffled as it is not like anything he has seen before. Even stranger than Borg tech. Luke learn about the federation of planet and is amazed by the post-scarcity society in place on earth. Also by the replicator. He spend a not insignifiant among of time trying to make it replicate blue milk. Data and R2 have long conversations about their experiences as robotic sentient being. Along the way, the Enterprise stubble upon a new civilisation with some fucked up shit going on. Luke want to do something about it. Picard explain to him the prime directive.

Luke is like "You know what, I'm not Starfleet."

Picard is like: "I can't let you go down there wreck havoc, I would violate the prime directive by proxy."

Luke is like: "Yeah well, try and stop me then."

Obviously Luke gets down there, solves the problem of the day. Picard is pissed off. Say if Luke is going to be like this he can't let him stay on the Enterprise. He still commit to help Luke go back to his galaxy if he find something useful while exploring the galaxy. Luke says well if that's how it is, you can leave me to the nearest outpost, because I can't let injustice happen doing nothing, so it will happen again. Luke and R2 are left at the space station DS9. He make friends with Jadzia, Worf (Worf immediately respect him as a warrior), Quarks (he missed having a scumbag in his life), Garak, even Benjamin once they get to know each other a bit better. He has an interesting relationship with Kira. They talk about religion, fighting an empire, being in the resistance, etc... They flirt a bit but nothing come out of it. Partly because Luke learn about the Maquis at some point and decide to go check on them.

In the Maquis he meet Chakotay and join his crew, just before they are sent at in the delta quadrant. It baffle him to learn the voyage home is suppose to be 70 years long. Sadly he doesn't know enough about hyperdrives to help with that. He has a lot of heated discutions about the prime directives with Janeway, and he end up in the bring a few times for disobeying orders, though nothing serious enough Janeway would actually leaves him behind. He plays with the limits often enough though. All in all, even Janeway get a quite nicer experience than normal out of the arrangement, and the Voyager even arrives home in half the time. At home, with the data from Voyager and the reverse engineering done on the X-Wing's hyperdrive by Geordi, a solution is found to send Luke in his galaxy far far away. Luke thanks everyone for the help and the experience, and come back to the new republic with a lot of interesting idea for a new form of government and society, and a stolen replicator.

[sunkifye]

enhypen as love tropes

lee heeseung ⋅˚₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅౨ৎ

fake dating

“I know our relationship is fake, but the feelings I have for you are so real.”

as heeseung walked through the halls at school, he heard two girls talking and their conversation made him stop in his tracks. “stop lying! I know you don’t have a boyfriend” one girl said to the other. and she was right, that girl didn’t actually have a boyfriend. she was a loner and heeseung knew this, so why did he step in and pretend to be her boyfriend? well, his friends have been pushing him to get a girlfriend so maybe this girl can help him out. the two made a deal to help each other out by pretending to be a couple and they even made some ground rules. but what’ll happen when the two start to fall for each other and break their set of rules? will someone figure out about their act? will their relationship remain fake or turn into something real?

park jongseong ⋅˚₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅౨ৎ

arranged marriage

“arranged or not, I still would have chosen you.”

when jay’s parents told him that he was getting married in a week to a random girl, he almost fell off his chair. getting married to a complete stranger? yeah, no thanks. and the random girl wasn’t so thrilled about this either. their parents both own two of the most successful companies, so in theory, them getting married would combine the two companies and increase profit. this marriage was all about money and not about love. but as the two skeptical strangers begin to spend time with each other throughout the week, they realize that they have more in common than they thought. will this marriage actually work out? or will the success of their parents’ businesses ruin their blossoming relationship?

sim jaeyun ⋅˚₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅౨ৎ

soulmates

“I guess we really were meant to be.”

everyone has a soulmate and is attached to their person by an invisible red string. only a few people are able to see these strings and jake happens to be one of them. wherever he goes, his vision is blurred by the bright strings attached to every single person’s pinky finger, including his own. he hated the idea of soulmates, having to see all of the happy couples that weren’t fated together break up over this idea that they aren’t supposed to be together. or maybe he hated it because his own soulmate already had a boyfriend, and she wasn’t going to breakup with him anytime soon. but what’ll happen when jake starts to go after a girl that isn’t his soulmate? will their relationship flourish? or will his real soulmate come into the picture and make jake’s life a confusing mess?

park sunghoon ⋅˚₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅౨ৎ

second chance

“you’ll always be my number one, even if it didn’t work out the first time.”

sunghoon had a girlfriend for all of senior year of high school. he really thought that she was the one until they went off to college. since they both went to different colleges, they decided to break up instead of having a long distance relationship. the breakup left sunghoon heart broken. he swore to himself that he wouldn’t get caught up in a serious relationship again any time soon. so, he spent his years at college being single and focusing on his studies. after he graduated, he landed a job working in a big business in his home town. his first day on the job, he walked into his office to find his ex girlfriend as his colleague. will the two be able to rekindle their relationship? or will they be torn apart once again?

kim seonwoo ⋅˚₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅౨ৎ

childhood best friends to lovers

“you’ve been there for me since day one.”

sunoo has been best friends with this girl ever since he was born. their parents were best friends, so they were best friends too. growing up they spent every second together. they were attached by the hip and basically inseparable. now in their senior year of high school, the two are still as close as ever, hanging out together at every possible moment. over the past few years, sunoo has grown a crush on his best friend but he has never told her. he can’t tell if she feels the same way and he doesn’t want to put their friendship in jeopardy. but because the end of the year is nearing, sunoo has built up the courage to confess to her before they part for college. however, every time he tries to confess his feelings, something always gets in the way. will his confession ruin their 18 years of friendship? or will sunoo ever be able to confess to her before they both leave for college?

yang jungwon ⋅˚₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅౨ৎ

boy next door / neighbors to lovers

“this whole time, my one true love lived right across the street.”

jungwon had just moved out of his old apartment and into a new house with his grandma. new house, new school, new beginnings. he had quickly become friends with everybody in the neighborhood, except for the person who lives across the street from him. sure he’s met the parents, but he’s never seen their daughter. in other news, he’s taken up a new hobby after school: tutoring. after the first week of school, he started to tutor a girl in his math class. after a few of their tutoring sessions, they became pretty close friends and as the weeks go on, jungwon finds himself falling for her more and more. but what’ll happen when jungwon finds out that his crush is the girl living next door? will this change the dynamic of their relationship? or will someone else come in between them?

nishimura riki ⋅˚₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅౨ৎ

enemies to lovers

“I never thought I would fall for an idiot like you.”

ni-ki is the captain of the boys dance team at his high school—oh and the captain of the girls dance team? she’s his sworn enemy. the two are always bickering and being mean to each other, whether it be during dance practices or the few classes they shared together in school. everyone knew of their hatred for each other, but no one knew what caused it. one day, the school announced that there would be a big performance at the school for the two dance teams. there would be many group numbers, trios, and solos that the two teams had to perform, including a duet between the best dancer from the boys team and the best dancer from the girls team, which just so happens to be the two captains. though both are opposed of doing a duet together, the dance teams persuaded them to try to work together just this once. how are the two enemies supposed to practice a dance together for weeks on end? will they be able to pull off this duet if they can’t stand each other? or will their hatred turn into love?

author’s note : 1. this has been rotting in my drafts for awhile 2. ik these r super cliche BUT THATS WHY I LOVE IT 3. obviously this is my opinion but I would love to hear ur opinions on what tropes u think enha r 4. I really wanna make a fic out of jake’s (or any of the members) but I have to finish rage quit first 5. if u decide to write any fics on these ideas PLEASE DO and tag me bc I would love to read them

ok ty for reading & have a great day 💋💋

[dangerpronebuddie]

“I’m sorry for not believing you”

For you, lovely! Under the cut because tumblr has something against me.

“Why do you sound like you have your head stuck in a bucket?” Eddie says with a confused frown. 

“Well it’s not!” Buck huffs. “I… UGH I’m so stupid!”

“You’re not stupid,” Eddie says definitively. “I’m almost there, tell me what happened.”

“I was carving pumpkins for us to take to Hen and Karen’s party,” Buck says, his voice muffled and echoey and far away. It may just be because the speaker on Eddie’s phone is jacked up.

“Uh-huh,” Eddie says when Buck doesn’t continue, drawing out the syllables. “And?”

“And I… might have my head stuck in a pumpkin.” 

Eddie opens his mouth to reply, when the words fully register. He rolls his lips and swallows the laugh bubbling up in his chest. “You do not have a pumpkin stuck on your head.”

“Why would I lie about having a fucking pumpkin stuck on my head?” Buck cries. 

Eddie pulls up outside Buck’s building and hops out, forgetting the hat to his costume on the seat and jogging inside. “I’m in the elevator, I’ll be there in a minute,” Eddie says, preparing himself for whatever catastrophe Buck is really facing.

“The door’s unlocked,” Buck says with a weary sigh before hanging up. 

Eddie jogs to Buck’s door and steps inside. 

He freezes in his tracks and bites down hard on his lip to keep from bursting out laughing. “Buck.”

Buck whirls around to face him, his cape swishing with the movement, his eyes just barely visible through the carved eyes of the pumpkin on his head. 

“You-” Eddie claps a hand over his mouth- “you actually have a pumpkin on your head.”

“I told you!” His voice sounds even more garbled than it did on the phone, and his wide puppy eyes peering at him through the gourd should make Eddie feel guilty for wanting to laugh, but it has the opposite effect. 

“I'm sorry for not believing you,” Eddie says, his hand still over his mouth to hold back his giggles. 

“Apologize later, just help me!” Buck exclaims, tugging at the gourd adorning his noggin. 

Eddie joins him at the kitchen island. “How did you even… Why did you even…”

“Remember, I told you Jee wanted me to be-”

“The headless horseman from that one Scooby Doo,” Eddie nods, Buck's logic making as much sense now as it probably could. “And you wanted to see if you could use an actual pumpkin for the head.”

Buck's shoulders drop. “Yeah,” he admits, a little dejected.

“You're adorable,” Eddie says with a smile way too fond. His eyes widen in shock at the same time Buck's do. He most definitely did not mean to say that out loud. 

Buck recovers first. Even without the mouth carved out, Eddie can tell there's a smirk on his face, albeit a little sheepish. “Even with a pumpkin on my head?” 

Eddie snorts a surprised laugh. “Even with a pumpkin on your head.” He looks at the array of utensils and special carving tools Buck has spread across the island and selects a short, serrated knife.

“You sure you want out?” Eddie grins. “I think it suits you.”

Buck ducks his head and topples forward a little with the weight of the gourd, a small, surprised whoa escaping his lips. Eddie giggles and helps right him. “Yes, get me out of here,” Buck says. “I know orange is my color, but this is too much.”

Eddie chuckles and sets to work, starting at the top of the pumpkin, which Buck had thankfully carved out already. 

“Hold still,” Eddie says softly. He doesn't know if this'll work, but they've got to start somewhere. 

Buck does as instructed, fingers gripping the countertop to keep from fidgeting as Eddie carefully saws through the pumpkin. He doesn't go deep enough to completely puncture it, but he creates enough give to pry it apart. 

Buck sighs in relief as the pumpkin comes apart in Eddie's hands. There's a few seeds in his curls and the puppy eyes are out in full force, and Eddie truly doesn't think he's ever looked more beautiful. 

“Thanks, Eds,” Buck says, a blush high on his cheeks. 

“Always,” Eddie says, much more soft than necessary. “But please don't do that again.”

Buck giggles. “I don't plan on it. But if I do, I know I can call Zorro to help me.”

Eddie rolls his eyes with a smile. “This costume was your idea, remember?”

“I didn't think you'd actually do it,” Buck says, trailing his fingertips along the collar of Eddie's half buttoned shirt. 

“Buck, I don't think there's a single thing you could ask of me that I wouldn't do,” Eddie declares, looking into his eyes. He thinks he should be terrified, but giddiness overtakes any lingering fear when Buck tugs him close by the collar. 

“Yeah?” Buck's eyes dart down to his lips. “Even if I asked you to kiss me?” 

Eddie cups his cheek and draws him into a devastating kiss. Buck makes a soft noise against his lips Eddie swallows down. He tastes a little like pumpkin but Eddie doesn't care. Something settles inside him as Buck cups his face in his hands, deepening the kiss. 

Buck is the first to pull away, resting their foreheads together. “So… if there’s nothing you wouldn’t do…” Eddie watches, half dazed, as a smirk spreads across Buck’s kiss-swollen lips. “Then would you let me fu-”

Eddie cuts him off with a quick kiss they both laugh into. “We’ll come back to that later. Right now, we have a party to get to. I didn’t dress like this for nothing.”

Buck hums and kisses him again. “You sure didn’t.”

Eddie makes himself pull away and take Buck’s hand. “Come on, pumpkin.”

Send me an I'm Sorry prompt!

[m3vl0vesu]

SPIDEY STUFF

TW: Bullying, mentions of suicide, it's just kind of sad

A/N:don't know if I'm going anywhere with this or if it's been done before. Probably has but🤷‍♀️

Do you know how angsty a Spider fic can get?? Most Spideys are teenagers, and of course their canon events, sprinkle in some bullying and feeling outcasted by society and there you have it! A real Spider-person. They've got faster healing, an abnormal amount of strength and can deflect most attacks due to their spidey sense. But they're not immortal, if they die, they die. And they know that, you know that, we all do. But do other people?

The cities' civilians don't know anything about their local hero. The people they work with? They don't know if the kid can't die-i mean the reckless shit they do? They might as well be immortal if they keep on risking their life like that. Or they just count it as 'stupid teen doing stupid stuff' if they do know. And it hurts, the lack of empathy people have but they used to it by now. .

.

. 'Adrenaline' thats what you say. When people ask 'why do you swing so low sometimes' especially when your coming off a tall building. Should you tell them the truth?

Yeah.

Would you?

Hell no.

In reality you were testing yourself, it started slowly. Seeing how low you could get without being scared. Scared to hit the ground, you were just making sure that you weren't going to change your mind. And not once would you. You awaited the day the impact will finally kill you. You could make it look like an accident as well.

Maybe you forgot to make your web fluid that day, maybe you just idiotically went too low. People would maybe pick up on it, how sometimes your body would almost touch the pavement before you swung away. You were always quiet when doing it, not cracking a few obnoxious jokes. But you were just focusing, that's all. Nothing to worry about.

But just how long would they have their Spidey? And how long had their happy one been gone?

[wield-the-mighty-pen]

Can we talk about the fact that every Miraculous World special has had insane levels of Ladynoir

and this special doesn’t appear to be the exception

[ms-spkhd]

thinking about a Blast From the Past steddie au tonight. like, think about it for a second--steve as the sweet, well-meaning himbo raised in a fallout shelter and eddie as the cynic who shows him the world as it is:

The year was 1962, and an atomic bomb had just dropped on top of the Harrington household.

Okay, not really. It was actually a fighter jet that suffered a mechanical failure just above the little plot of land the Harringtons called their home, but Walter Harrington took it differently. Far differently.

See, the thing was that the man was living in a state of paranoid delusion over the Cold War--terrified of the possibility of an outright nuclear holocaust over the Cuban Missile Crisis and the Soviet Union. He had been carefully building a fallout shelter under his home for his wife and possible children to live in with the works--canned food, running water, and even a working television.

And one day they went in and simply never left. The explosion right when they closed the door was tangible proof that the nuclear war was happening right above them.

A few years later, around 1968, a baby boy was born in a fallout shelter with no one but his mom and dad to keep him company.

They raised Steve the best they could, even if Walter Harrington was a mad genius and Madeline Harrington was a borderline alcoholic. Even if the boy was living in a perfect little time capsule of the fifties and early sixties. Walter made sure to educate him right and teach him how to be a sociable gentleman--even if he had no idea what swear words or the concept of sex were. That was for another time. Although, twenty-four years came and went for Steve Harrington, his father still owes him 'another time'.

Steve Harrington grows twenty-four years in perfect seclusion, but that changes at the flick of a switch.

The year is 1992: supplies are dwindling Walter is growing sick, and Steve is tasked to bravely set foot in the nuclear fallout to retrieve more material. (The only reason why Walter assumes they can even get more stuff is because he observed the outside world when the shelter unlocked and mistook it as a post-apocalyptic mutant society.)

The moment Steve made it outside his little bubble, he was utterly fascinated by the world--how different the people were outside of his television and his little books, how bright the sky was outside, how the irritable man on the bus wouldn't accept the money he tried to give him, how the bus moved and didn't fling him right off his seat.

(He even saw an adult bookstore. Dad told him that those things were filled with poisonous gas. How were they even to operate if they were filled with poisonous gas? That's dangerous and totally inconsiderate of the general public's safety.)

Anyway, he tries to follow the grocery list that Mom and Dad gave him the best he can, stocking up on poultry and tissue paper and the works. But by the end of the day, he doesn't know where he came from. Not a single sign or building or person can give him a single clue where to go.

After a few hours of wandering, suitcase in hand, he comes across a store with WE BUY BASEBALL CARDS written on the window.

Golly, Steve loves baseball cards--could look at Dad's collection for hours, and with the collection he has, he could make a pretty penny selling them for supplies. Despite the little hobby store being beside an adult bookstore with poisonous gas, he scampers right in.

"I see you're looking to buy baseball cards," he says breezily to the gruff, scary-looking man behind the counter.

"That I am," he replies.

Steve pulls a few from his jacket's inner pocket. "Well, these are a bit old, you see, but I was hoping you still might be interested."

The gruff man yanks them from his hands, a spark in his eye. He looks delighted to see them, and it fills Steve with an excitement he hadn't felt at all today. Nobody has been this happy over something he's done today. "Woah," he gasps, then covers it with a cough. "Mickey Mantle rookie season...how much do you want?"

"I was hoping to sell all of my cards, actually!"

The man sputters incredulously. "All of 'em? Are you fucking with me?"

"I'm not sure what that means, but all I have are hundred-dollar bills and I need something smaller. Like, uh...ones, tens, fives..."

"Tell you what, I'll give you five hundred in small bills for all you got."

Steve smiles brightly. "Oh, that would be wonderful, sir--"

"Five hundred for a case-full of rookie season Mickey Mantles, Rick, are you fucking joking?" A deep voice cuts through Steve's thanks from the other side of the small store. He turns around to find a man leaning against a magazine rack, arms folded sternly.

The man is unlike Steve's ever seen before. Long, long limbs and big brown eyes that look traced with black and smudged around the edges. Pretty lips, too almost girl-ish, in the way they were big and plush like the women he'd see on the television. The strangest thing about him, though, was the curly hair that tumbled past his shoulders.

He looked mad, though. Madder than mad.

"Tell the poor guy you're fucking with him," long-hair-pretty-lips says to the man behind the counter, who bristles.

"Were you raised in a fucking barn, Munson? Who told you to interrupt on business?" Rick counters. Steve was really not appreciating the amount of f-words dropped in the conversation, it was uncouth.

"Sure I was!" Munson saunters towards the counter and Steve's eyes follow him like a moth to a light. "But my morals go past your business practices at this point. You remember the ninth commandment, yeah?"

"You shut your Goddamn mouth--"

"Excuse me sir, but I really don't appreciate how you're using the Lord's name in vain like that," Steve says firmly.

"See?" Munson smiles. It's like sunlight. "He gets it."

He plucks the baseball card from Rick's hand and holds it over his head when he tries to reach for it again. "See this little thing?" He says to Steve sweetly. "This guy costs six grand alone."

"Get out of town! Really?"

"Oh yeah, big guy. Selling the thing would give you a small fortune, and Rick over here is trying to con you out of it."

Steve frowns. "Is that true?" He asks Rick.

"Nothing but," Munson says in place of him. He slips the card back into Steve's hands and gives them a pat.

"The Hell is even keeping you here, Munson?" Rick sneers. "Did the gig you won't shut up about fall through like they usually do? Better to bum it out here than in your shithole apartment? Stop loitering in my damn store and make like a fucking tree. You're banned."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," Munson says rolling his eyes. He looks at Steve, then the door, gesturing at it with a flick of his head. "I'll see you out, Beaver."

He walks them both out the door, stopping to gesture at Rick strangely--hands balled into fists with only his middle fingers up--before stepping outside onto the sidewalk.

"Well merci, Monsieur," Steve says appreciatively, because Dad taught him French was always to be used on such occasions.

"What, you're French?"

"Oh no, I'm"--he thinks back to what Dad told him if a mutant asks where he's from. Gosh, he thinks he's supposed to be--"out on business."

"And you don't even have a clue about the little business trick that Rick tried to pull?"

"No...no, I--"

"Yeah, doesn't matter." Munson shrugs. He smiles sympathetically at Steve before turning on his heel and walking off. Oh boy, what would he do without him?

He follows him like a lost puppy, that's what.

"...You going the same way?" Munson asks incredulously. Steve shakes his head.

"Well, I'm following you."

Munson stops in his tracks, blinking, and Steve almost runs into him in his state. "Me?"

"Well yes! Where are we going?"

"We?" Munson asserts. "I'm going back to my shithole apartment, and judging by that jacket you're wearing, you should be taking the next left and hop-skipping straight to the barber college."

"Oh, I'm lost, though."

"Aren't we all?"

"Say, did you just get banned from that hobby store because of me?" Steve says to change the subject.

Munson sighs. "Seems like I did, sailor. The place was shitty anyways, with that dickhead running the operation. Wayne could get better cards from a different joint."

...dickhead? Steve's never heard that leave the seams of anyone's lips before. "Dickhead?"

"Yeah, he's a real fucking loser. A walking talking penis capable of human speech."

Steve gets queasy at the image he's concocted in his head. He leans against the nearest brick wall, his suitcase tumbling to the ground as he drops into a contemplative squat.

"Dude, what is wrong with you?"

"Well, the mental image that I..."

Munson's eyebrows scrunch before he reaches out a hand to Steve. He takes it, letting the man haul him upward. "Look, man, where'd you park your car?"

"I came by bus."

"Aren't you full of surprises."

"I am?"

"Okay look." Eddie raises his hands, palms splayed in the air. "It's your first time in Los Angeles, right? Everyone wants a taste of it, I know, and you're out for business and fucking famished. You got the opportunity to see the great big world outside of your little bubble and you got excited--but you took a bus and got mixed up in the middle of San Fernando Valley without a clue in the world. Am I correct?"

Steve listens in wonderment. So far, Munson's been correct in a way. He's convinced he might be psychic. He nods slowly and seriously just to see Munson flash that lighting-strike smile.

"Great, great. Which brings us to here. Correct again?"

"Oh yeah."

"Where are you staying?"

Nowhere, at the moment. Steve opens his mouth to say so, but Munson interrupts quickly. "Holiday Inn?"

"Yes, the Holiday Inn!" Steve says totally truthfully.

"Okay, cool. Cool." Munson claps his hands together with finality and starts walking. "The nearest bus station is a couple of blocks away if you take a right--"

"Don't you have a car?"

Munson stops in his tracks again. He turns to face Steve once again. "What's your name, sweetheart?"

Something warm pools in Steve's gut at the pet name. Something about the way those pretty lips form that word sends blood rushing to his cheeks. "Steve," he says.

"Alright, Steve." Oh boy, his name sounds even better when Munson says it. "Rule number one in Los Angeles? Never let a stranger drive you anywhere."

"If it makes you feel any better," Steve says sweetly, "I don't have a gun."

Munson pales, then starts running.

"Hey!" Steve cries and makes haste to follow him. "I must've said something wrong, please forgive me!"

"Nope, nope--get the fuck away from me, man!"

He grabs Munson's wrist to pull him back, which is a bad move since the man starts writhing around in his grip. "I'm not going to hurt you, sir!"

Steve drops Munson's hand and raises his in surrender. "See?"

"...Just let me get to my car."

"I'll give you a Rogers Hornsby if you take me to my hotel," Steve reasons.

Munson stills. "...That's like four grand, don't bullshit me."

He pulls the card from his jacket and presents it as evidence. "See? I was holding it back." He wants Munson to feel safe. "I got two." He reaches for the other cards in his pockets and pulls them out. "And-and all these other ones, too!"

"Okay, okay. You'll give me four thousand dollars if I drive you to your place?"

"Uh-uh!"

"That's it?"

"Yep."

"And I don't have to give you a quickie in the backseat or anything?"

"Yes sir--wait, what?"

Munson blows past his question like it didn't even leave Steve's mouth. "Can you stop with the sir crap?"

"Well, I'm sorry, sir--"

"My name is Eddie."

Eddie...Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. Wow, what a name. It's almost like something he's heard on the television.

"Why, it's nice to meet you, Eddie."

"Tolerable to meet you too, Steve."

Steve smiles shyly, then asks, "So are you a girl?"

"Excuse me?"

"Well it's just your hair...it's so long." Steve points at his as an example. "I've never seen anything like it before."

"Dude, it's 1992, every other guy looks like this--have you been living under a rock or something?"

Something like that. Steve shrugs.

"Well guys having long hair doesn't mean that they're girls, Steve, that's a given. It's not 1962 anymore." Eddie backtracks. "Well, I mean, dudes can have long hair and be chicks and chicks can be dudes too but that's not--"

"Oh, wow, my dad told me about one of those the last time he went here!"

"Oh that's fantastic, sweetheart," Eddie says, sugary-sweet. "But how about I drive you home?"

"That'd be a pleasure, Eddie."

[suffarustuffaru]

hello!! i am back with a totally Normal fic inspired by another fic called re:forgotten (totally dont look at the tags of my fic) (my fic is extremely normal), but no re:forgotten knowledge is necessary to know this fic! this fic is Really normal. the most Normal thing ive ever written. ive been working on it for the past two months or so and its. about 32k words 👍 feel free to read if youd like!!

[justonemorewallflower]

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Kara Thrace thought she was going to die after she flew headfirst into the storm. But instead, after her vision goes black, she wakes up in a Cylon ship and everything changes when she realizes why.

As she works on trying to return to Galactica she faces challenges, amongst the Cylons and within her own thoughts as she struggles with her morales and self image. Can she make it back to the life she’s always known, or will she have to totally start over, leaving everything she ever knew and cared about behind?

***

*** (lots of text below):

A teaser for a long fic that has part of it posted today and will be fully posted in chunks by the end of the month! I entered the @galactica-bigbang with this fic to help me finish it and I am so excited and glad to share it with y'all as this is my baby. I have been working on this fic since before I even finished the show back in February. So around a third of a year which is crazy to think. I had honestly been concerned I wasn't going to finish this in time but alas I am going to and I am glad because I love my artists work for this fic as well! It is beautiful and she did an amazing job.

I may go back through and edit this fic to make it flow better, etc. as I'm sure it's not as detailed or edited as I'd prefer but it is mostly finished and that's what matters. And that is a huge accomplishment for me as this will be the first long fic/story period that I have ever completed.

I have an awful habit of starting new projects and writing a little bit then starting another new project. Because of that I have never been able to finish a long fic or story. The closest I got was with a Wednesday fic that currently has around 33,000 words and 24 chapters posted. I hadn't meant to abandon that one as I had really wanted to finish it but I had lost inspiration after I got into BSG and even now still am unsure how I would even want to end that fic. But yeah, the fact that BSG is the first fandom where I have been able to complete a fic over 55k words says a lot. That's how much this show and these characters mean to me, especially Kara and especially Lee and Kara as a pair.

I am super proud of this fic and have enjoyed every second I spent writing it. It means a lot to me and I hope everyone who reads it will enjoy it as much as I have writing it. It's definitely a dark and depressing fic but it's worth it for the ending.

Every time I update it/add chapters I'll make a post here with the link so y'all can stay posted and have easy access! Also there you'll be able to read and check all the tags and author's notes as you'll definitely want to look over those before you start reading. While this fic is my baby and I would love for everyone who loves Kara or Kara and Lee as much as I do to read it, y'all's mental health always comes first so if the fic seems too depressing or dark for you that is totally okay and I understand. So please, I implore you to check tags, etc. first before you commit yourself to reading this, especially seeing as it's long.

Anyway, with all that said, I am so happy to finally share this with you all and I hope everyone who decides to take the time to read it enjoys it ❤️

[promptcorner]

I’ve been having this thought for a hot minute, and I can’t hold it in any longer.

You all know the number one rule of ghosts? Don’t ask a ghost how they died? Well, let’s expand on that!

What if ghost stories are put in a similar vain? When a human tells a ghost story that is actually true in front of another ghost or in their haunt, or it’s completely fake but the story is about said ghost, they get mad.

Like how in those ghost hunting videos where the hunters share the story near or in the haunted forest or something and the ghost gets pissed. They will either ignore them out of spite or haunt their butts in response.

The thing is, they’re fine with telling people their stories. But only their own story and only if they want to, because it’s still their death story. Unless they know about another ghost’s story and for plot reasons the ghost in question can’t tell it themselves, think the Pariah Dark episode where everyone is sitting around a plug-in camp fire, then they’ll share it.

It would be funny if Danny just never tells a ghost story, especially his own. He doesn’t know what stuff he makes up could be true and make a ghost attack him. Danny is also just tired of hearing ghost stories because of his parents at this point.

So, he goes around it by telling people internet movie/TV/book theories. I’m thinking the Mort Theory.

Just imagine Danny telling a group of people around a campfire in a haunted forest who have NO clue what Madagascar is and sully focusing on Mort in the Theorizer’s tone. He summarizes the first hour or so of the theory (the part where the Theorizer just goes episode by episode and explains the plot and points out all the weird stuff that happens) and it does the job.

It pokes fun at telling ghost stories while not insulting anyone and scaring everyone in the process. And bonus! Danny doesn’t have to share his story for a while!

[queer-boo-radley]

Emma is a rebellious princess engaged to Prince Neal very much against her will. Craving freedom and adventure she runs away from the palace in the middle of the night and stows away on a merchant ship headed halfway around the world. Furious, Queen Snow heads down into the palace dungeon where she has Regina, one of the world's most ruthless and cunning pirates, plus her crew, locked up by sheer luck on her part. Snow offers Regina freedom and a mountain of gold to track Emma down and bring her back. Regina accepts the offer, hunts Emma down, and then almost immediately falls in love with her admist all of the wild kinky sex they have. Queue Regina leading an armada of pirate ships into battle against Snow's Navy before making off with Emma and nearly all her treasury.

[talkshowboyluvr]

the sotr covering is ugly as hell holy shit

[rtlstuff]

JKR Writing Fleur Delacour: So this french bird is super sexy but she's also incredibly shallow and vain and snooty, y'know how the French are. She's high fem which is a bad thing, tomboys are the best. She's also just incredibly annoying and full of herself. Constantly making herself the centre of attention even though nobody likes her and they call her phlegm behind her back. Hilarious, right?

90% of Fanfics when Writing Fleur Delacour: At first she comes off as entitled & full of herself, but as time goes on it's clear she's actually incredibly kind, compassionate and loyal. She also has a keen sense of matters of the heart. For the younger characters she takes on the role of a wise older sister. She's loyal and nurturing and and will always be there if you need someone to talk to. She is from a noble matriarchal race of fierce warriors and will fight tooth and nail to defend what is hers.

[evorathesylvurr]

being a limbus fan is so funny because the ship tags are mixed in with the classic literature (tm)

like on the one hand I can say shit like “haha funny cockroach man” or “haha yeah how’s that axe murder investigation going? Wait you don’t know it’s an axe? Rumors~” but on the other hand earnestly seeing one of fifteen classic literatures does 90 sp damage causing me to corrode instantly

[minouji]

Avatar 3 Through The Eyes Of Miles Quaritch

TIT᙭Eᑎ SI - ᑭᗩᖇT ᒪISTIᑎG

Tᗯ ᗩᑎᗪ ᑕᗯ: descriptions of violence (canon typical), death, blood & gore, smut (undecided), mentions of genocide.

ᗯOᖇᗪ ᑕOᑌᑎT: ???

STᗩTᑌS: 𝙸 𝙽 𝙲 𝙾 𝙼 𝙿 𝙻 𝙴 𝚃 𝙴

Chapter I

Chapter II

Chapter III

Chapter V

Chapter VI

Chapter VII

Chapter VIII

. . .

Pandora's Eastern sea is left reeling from the force of the metal blow, her waters are tainted, stained with the blood and gore of vacant bodies; both of beloved clan members and foreign entities. The smoke clears, but the scent of gunfire remains testament to the sheer destruction left in the wake of the battle.

Eywa weeps for her fallen children; taken too soon before their time, ripped from the warmth of their families by hands of cold metal. Children cry for parents who no longer live, lovers are forever doomed to suffer the agony of separation, friends sing the songs of people who now only exist in memory, and mothers wail over the bodies of their deceased children. The fragmented remains of families are left to pick up the pieces after the loss, scrambling for some semblance of the normalcy that was shattered. Though, one day, these deep wounds would heal or fade to scars, the holes would forever remain.

The felled corpse of the once mighty sea dragon, rotting and in detriment, buried in its watery grave, as it deserves to be. But even in death, the sky people continue to bring grief to the people. Its body leaks a venomous ichor, it poisons the water, contaminating the oceans inhabitants until its black vitriol ran through their veins. Sickness reared like a tidal wave upon the sea clans, washing away with it their already sapped strength. Death after death after death spirals the wounded clans into further detriment, pulling the tatters of their foundation from under their feet, sinking them further into the abyss of doom . . .

And then there's Miles.

One of the last surviving products of the Project Phoenix endeavor. The hellish depths of the ocean thought him too bitter and spat him right back out onto the land, left to suffer in the wake of his defeat, and wallow in the sting of his wounds. Once again, he's failed. His plan fell through like a sabotaged jenga tower, and he's been left to crawl out from under the rubble. Defeated.

His ikran, named Cupcake, isn't much better off than he, being torn through by enemy gunfire. Journeying to bridgehead isn't a feasible option, unless he wants to suddenly plummet out of the sky to a watery end when his ride grew too weary to fly. If only he had known what taking refuge for the night on a remote island would lead to - the abrupt 180 turn of events would trigger, a series of hair-raising occurrences that would both plunge him into a dark confusion of his standing point in the fight for humanity's survival, also whilst simultaneously causing him to open his eyes.

 

── ◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈ ──

"тιтχєη ѕι; ωαкє υρ. σρєη уσυя єуєѕ ѕσ тнαт уσυ мαу ѕєє"

[krisssssssy]

My mom asked me if I wanted to borrow a book she had just read, called “Filthy Rich Fae” and I almost, almost told her about fan fiction, and how if she wants to read Fae romance there’s better shit out there for free.

Then I realized I was mental for thinking I was going to explain AO3 to my mother.

[an-abyss-of-stars]

☮ Rhaemond 70s Era Fic ☮

The year is 1978, 22yr old Rhaena Targaryen, is a singer/songwriter on tour in the States with her band Black Star. A folksy/bluesy rock band with music that rushes waves of ecstasy and ethereal beauty over whatever size crowd they play for. Rhaena graces the stage with all the grace and majesty of a fairy Princess or a glorious Goddess-like enchantress. Silver tresses and colourful flowing cape-like gowns that twirl and spiral with her every move, her sleeves hang like wings and flow as such as she spins and glides across the stage. She's known for losing herself in her music, as if she leaves her body on the stage and ascends to a higher place, her voice hypnotizing and mesmerizing her audience.

She's a marvel.

She's unreal.

A must see live.

With songs that spoke of mythical tales, dragons and burning lands, magic and royalty. And yet the song that was topping the charts recently was about a tortured lover, a dark figure who could not be shaken no matter how hard she tried. It was a song that left her screaming soaring notes out into the air, with so much anguish and internal rot, her rasping notes playing on par with the ripping final guitar solo.

And yet, the effervescent Rhaena Targaryen was not romantically tied to anyone, as far as the public knew.

They couldn't place the man she spoke of, but her emotional tale still ripped at the audience just right, connecting the feeling and the emotion...an unrequited love gone wrong.

An aggressively beautiful voice paired with the perfect music backing her. With a band that consisted with her as their lead vocalist, her twin sister Baela as both vocals and their lead guitarist, their half-sister Aemma as the keyboardist as well providing backing vocals with her other half-sister Aerea their bassist. Rounding out the band were Rhaena's two cousins, Aegon as their drummer and Daeron as their 2nd guitarist.

Black Star as a band and their music, was a growing sensation. So much so that Rolling Stones magazine had sent their very best writer to cover them, someone who reluctantly knew the genre well...knew the band even better...and after analyzing the lyrics, was quite certain he knew who that popular song was really about...

In 1978, 24yr old Aemond Targaryen, had worked his way up the writers ranks at Rolling Stones magazine. He'd always been an avid lover of music and culture, and while he could hold his own decently enough on guitar, it was more of a private activity as opposed to a career path. No, his talents lay on the written page, with his added photography skills. In his time at Rolling Stones he'd had the opportunity to interview some of the best the 70s had to offer. From Stevie Nicks and Lindsey Buckingham from Fleetwood Mac, Ozzy Osbourne and Tony Iommi of Black Sabbath, Dio, Buck Dharma of Blue Öyster Cult and even Donna Summer.

He'd worked his way from covering lower up and coming musicians and bands to meeting some of the greats. So it was to his surprise and slight disappointment when his chief editor slapped down a newspaper on his desk that read in bold letters "Black Star Shooting All The Way To The Top" and asked him to immediately jump on the task.

Maybe it was because he hadn't heard that band name in years...ignored it purposely for 4 years to be exact. Maybe it was because the moment his brothers had told him they were moving to Germany to "solidify their sound-" he stopped listening all together. Burning at the fact that his pretty little cousin...the one woman he wanted to stay within his orbit...was moving across the world to a whole nother continent, let alone country, just to get away from him.

Possibly it was because Aemond had been the one who fucked all it up to begin with. He'd been an idiot then, told her he loved in a letter...only for her to drive up just to see him making up with his on again off again girlfriend, Alys Rivers.

Rhaena had never let him explain, she wouldn't hear a word of the truth, the fact that Alys had practically lunged onto him, kissed like it would be forever. Only to turn around and dump him the week afterwards, Alys had said it was because "his heart wasn't in it", and truthfully it never was...

Only, Rhaena was back. And now there was a song playing on the radio, one that seared through him as it practically detailed the whole of their backforth relationship. There were technically three songs about him to be exact, although the other two seemed far more covert in their delivery. And now he was being forced to follow her...and the band…on their tour for their final 3 shows. Rolling Stones wanted it all, close and personal candid shots, interviews with the whole band, but most importantly he was meant to shine a light on their mysterious enchanting lead singer. To have her decode the songs and lyrics on their latest record.

If Aemond could look past the bitter sting of regret and the annoyance of how fate seemed to be weaving his life around. Then maybe he could see this for what it was, an opportunity to win her back...just maybe…