Characters: Din Djarin, Baby Yoda, and a nameless little girl
Theme: family, purpose, and acceptance (family fluff time)
A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away…
Title Crawl: The Mandalorian, Din Djarin, found himself in a precarious situation that none of his training or swearing of the Creed could have prepared him for: finding the foundlings. What was supposed to be a routine bounty hunt that promised a handsome reward, turned into an unexpected change of the heart and journey that leads him to have his beliefs turned upside down. He will learn what it means to care for beings that are unable to help themselves and to teach another of belonging and acceptance, something he never believed he would ever do. There will be many overwhelming feelings, awkward questions, angst, and a discovery that family is the only thing that truly matters.
Me reblogging the first chapter of a fic that I started and abandoned in March 2020 and hoping my own guilt trip will push me to actually continue this like:
summary: To you, he's always been Stevie. Until one day he's just Steve. He isn't handling the change well.
wc: 2.5 k
warnings: lovesick Steve, reader is overly fond of nicknames, meddling kids, tooth-rotting fluff
a/n: I am absolutely losing my mind over the new season, please feel free to send Steve thoughts/requests my way <3
“Hey, Steve?”
The yelling that had filled the entirety of Steve’s living room for the past ten minutes ceased. His heart started beating out of his chest. There was no reason to get all twisted up about it, that is the name his parents gave him. Except, you were so sweet, and everyone had a nickname. Everyone, but especially him. He’s your Stevie. Well, not strictly yours, as much as he’d like to be.
You would drop the others’ nicknames when you were tired, or when you had a headache after a long day. Dustin was no longer Dusty-Bun, which you’d gleefully stolen from Suzie. The ‘Y’ was dropped from the end of Mike. Steve could count on one hand the number of times he’d heard you call his best friend ‘Robin’ instead of ‘Robs’. But always, without fail, he was ‘Stevie’.
He’d been Stevie when your respective parents had brought the both of you to the company Christmas party and you were the only two there below the age of 30. He’d been Stevie when you found him shamefully cleaning up Tommy’s graffiti on the front of the theater, Stevie when you saw him from across the mall, face beaten to a pulp and there was no one else to pick him up. And he was Stevie every single time that he crawled in through your window after a nightmare or when he needed someone to sit with him in the aftermath of another concussion.
Max was still sitting on the floor in front of you as you diligently weaved her hair into a braid, eyes looking as far up as they could to catch a glimpse of you. Robin was hanging upside down in her typical arm chair, and the other kids were tangled up in a pile on the rug. But without fail, every eye in the room was boring into you. Steve watched you tie off the braid in an elastic and jump a bit when you looked up, squirming under their scrutiny. You blinked, confused. “What?”
Oh God, you didn’t even realize. You hate him now and you don’t even know it.
Robin was the first one to break her trance. “You called him Steve,” she said, her finger pointing at you accusingly as she sat up straight in the armchair. Steve’s heart, which was already doing double time, picked up the pace. He loved her, but Robin was the last person he would’ve chosen to try and sort out this mess.
Your head tilted to the side of it’s own accord. “That’s his name?” Max turned towards you, head already in her hand.
“Riiight,” Robin said, eyes darting between the two of you. “Right! Okay, yes.” She nodded her head slowly, as if trying to convince herself.
Steve could see Max’s smile threatening to break into a grin, and Dustin looked dangerously close to snarking off. He couldn’t let it go on like this, someone was dangerously close to blowing his poorly maintained cover.
Steve snatched the pile of VHS tapes off the coffee table and flipped through them. The Thing, The Exorcist and The Shining? He was never letting Robin escort the kids to Family Video without him again. Last movie night, you’d all watched Nightmare on Elm Street and you’d nightmares for a week. It wasn’t that he minded you waking him up, but hearing your voice shake over the phone made his chest tight in a way he would do almost anything to avoid. “Executive decision, we aren’t watching any of these.” He announced, tossing the tapes on top of the tv and kneeling down to dig through the entertainment cabinet.
For once, he was thankful for the chorus of groans and teenage whining from the couch. Anything to break the tension. Steve chanced a glance you and was content to find you giggling with Max and she handed you the elastic to tie off the braid. Crisis somewhat averted. He grabbed Pretty in Pink off the stack of John Hughes tapes he’d stashed in the back of the cabinet and popped it in. If anyone asked, he’d claim they were his moms. He’d bought them two towns over after you came into Family Video with your heart set on it only to find the shelf empty.
He flopped down on the couch beside you in this usual spot, mindful not to sit too close. If you were mad at him, he didn’t want to make it worse. You gave him a strange look, but El quickly distracted you by asking to have her hair braided as well. The trailers played softly in the background while the tv casted a cool glow across the room. Steve was thankful you were distracted, because he couldn’t stop watching you out of the corner of his eyes.
You smiled at the top of El’s head, unfazed to be missing the beginning of your favorite movie. He wracked his brain, trying to figure out what had caused you to drop his nickname. He’d been on time picking you up from work, but even when he’s been occasionally late you hadn’t minded in the slightest. You’d seemed fine last night on the phone when you’d called to make sure that he’d gotten home okay. He was in the middle of replaying the short conversation you’d had when he opened the door when your hand found his and your head settled on his shoulder. El had rejoined the pile of teenagers and snacks on the rug and you were right back where you belonged.
“You okay?” He asked quietly, leaning so close his lips almost brushed the top of your head. Your concentration on the tv didn’t break as you hummed a ‘hmm?’ back to him. Steve smiled despite himself. “You okay, honey?”
His heart shuddered when he realized a nickname of his own had slipped out. A quick glance around you confirmed that you were just as focused on Andie making her prom dress as you had been thirty seconds ago. You nodded, adjusting so that you could nuzzle further into his bicep, your grip on his left arm growing tighter. “I’m fine, Steve.” Your voice was muffled, but Steve still felt his stomach drop.
Steve didn't realize he’d spent the whole movie worrying over whatever must’ve done to upset you until the credits roll and the kids are gathering up their blankets and pillows from the floor. He started to stand up to chauffeur everyone home, but you weren’t following suit. In fact, your lashes were brushing the tops of your cheeks and your breathing was deep and steady. You’d fallen asleep on him.
Mercifully, Robin was already corralling the kids out of the house, confirming that she would walk them to the Wheeler’s. “Talk to her, Stevie!” She calls from the front door before shutting it behind he. Steve winced, glancing down at you to confirm that you hadn’t woken up. If you hadn’t been dead to the world on his chest, he would’ve given her an earful.
He felt like he was going to be sick from all the whiplash. You were so unbelievably normal today. You were sweet with the kids, laughing with Robin and unable to last through an entire movie without falling asleep. It all checked out. And still, he was ‘Steve’. His head fell back against the sofa, and he fought the urge to groan. Suddenly, he was tired. Surely it wouldn't hurt to rest his eyes for a second.
Steve woke up to the sight of you about to slip out the front door. “What’re you doing?” He asked, his voice heavy with sleep.
You froze with the door half open, as if he’d caught you with your hand in the cookie jar. Your eyebrows scrunched together and your lips parted in an ‘o’. “Just, I didn’t realize I fell asleep,” you said, your hand still grasping the handle of the Harrington’s front door. “Felt wrong to wake you up,” you shrugged.
Steve scrambled over the back of the couch, nearly falling when his foot caught on one of the kids’ blankets. A strangled cry of “Wait!” Came out shakily as he managed to catch himself before falling face first into the carpet.
“Oh my god, Steve!” You laughed, doubling over at the waist.
Usually, the sound would cause the butterflies in his stomach to kick up. But there it was again. ‘Steve’. He gently took your hand off of the door handle, shutting the door behind you. “We’ve gotta talk about this, honey.” His thumb was rubbing soft circles around your knuckles, and when he noticed what he was doing, he couldn’t bring himself to stop.
You leaned back against the door, ducking down in order to catch his gaze. “Is everything okay?” Steve could feel his cheeks turning pink, and it was suddenly very difficult to meet your eyes.
He took a deep breath, and leaned his free hand on the door behind you. “You’ve been calling me Steve all day.”
“Oh, that.” Your eyes are wide, and if he’s not mistaken, you’re pouting.
It’s one of the cutest things he’s ever seen and he can’t help it, he’s grinning. “Yeah, that.” Maybe you don’t hate him after all. He squeezed your hand once, and then threaded your fingers together. “You’re breakin’ my heart here.”
“I just,” you started to explain and then paused, taking a deep breath and gathering your courage. “Didn’t wanna embarrass you.”
Steve’s hand slid down the doorway to rest on the side of your neck. “Now where’d you get a crazy idea like that?” the tip of his nose was nearly brushing against yours. “Thought you were mad at me all day, honey.”
You blinked up at him, suddenly feeling woozy. You had always been affectionate with each other, but something about this felt different. “When I was visiting you at work the other day?” Steve nodded, doing his best to be patient. “I, well…” you weren’t sure how to get the words out. “I heard the kids laughing at us, and I just. I don’t know. I guess I got shy.”
Steve was holding himself back from rolling his eyes. Those little shits managed to get in the way of things even when they weren’t in the building. “I’m sure they weren’t laughing at you, honey.”
Embarrassed tears begin to well at the corners of your eyes. “I’m pretty sure.” Steve’s hand gently cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray tear that managed to escape. “They were giggling, and I thought it was just over a movie or something,” Steve nodded, his hand not leaving your face. “But then I heard Dusty say ‘she doesn’t even know’ and they all took turns saying… well. They were all saying ‘Stevie’ in high voices. And I don’t even sound like that!” You winced, hearing your voice pitch up at the end.
“When have you ever cared what the kids think? Hell, when have I ever cared what they think?” He was laughing, but it didn’t feel unkind. You could tell he wasn’t laughing at you.
“And you always tell them to shut up if they call you Stevie. I thought maybe you didn’t like it anymore.”
You hesitated, the reality of the situation really hitting you for the first time. Steve had you trapped between him and the door, one hand intertwined with yours and the other making lazy strokes across your cheekbone. And he was hurt that you’d stopped using his nickname. One that you have specifically heard him telling the others that they weren’t allowed to use. Did he-? No.
“I was so worried.” He said, voice barely a whisper.
“About what?” Your asked gently, matching his volume.
“Thought I’d screwed it all up. Your Dusty-Bun is always insisting I’m going to mess this up. Guess he got in my head.” Steve’s forehead rested against yours, his eyes fluttering shut.
Oh. Maybe he did. “Mess what up, Stevie?”
His grin was blinding, despite his eyes remaining shut. “Say it again.” You felt like your face was on fire, and your heart was doing summersaults in your chest. A swarm of butterflies was causing a ruckus in your stomach. Your eyes fell shut, and you tried to pull away. Steve’s hand slid from your cheek to find the back of your neck, the his other hand leaving yours so that his thumb could run along the end of your eyebrow. “Please,” he was practically begging, and not one part of him had managed to feel ashamed of it.
Your hands found his forearms, needing something to cling to. “Stevie?” You couldn’t wrap your head around this. It was like you had all the pieces but they wouldn’t fall into place. Your eyes peak open, and the next thing you know, Steve is smoothing out the space between your brows with his thumb.
“You don’t know how hard it’s been for me,” his inhale is shaky, and loud to your ears. “To not do that constantly.” His eyes were soft in a way that you realized had been more and more common lately. “Wanna kiss you so bad, honey.” Steve watched as your eyes went wide, but you didn't pull away. You’re processing, and he has been working on his patience for a good long while now.
Moments feel like a lifetime before you nod your head, just once. Up and down and so sure. Steve mirrored you, his nose bumping gently against yours before he was leaning in.
You would’ve expected fireworks, big explosions that made you go weak in the knees. You got something better. Steve’s arms wrapped around your middle, molding you to him, and it felt like coming home. He was gentle at first, giving you a moment to adjust. And then your arms found their way around his neck, your fingers tangling in his hair, and he couldn’t help it anymore.
You didn’t know how long you were backed up against the door, but you were sure you would’ve happily stayed for a few more hours. And you would have, if it weren’t for the banging from the other side of the door. In seconds, Steve had swept you behind him and plucked the bat that sat in the umbrella stand near the door.
“Steve, man! I don’t care if you’re asleep I left my walkie.”
Steve sighed, his shoulders deflating as he propped the bat up against the wall. “We don’t have to answer it,” he whispered, hands at your waist again.
You laughed, forehead resting against his shoulder. “Stevie, don’t make him suffer.”
Steve grumbled something that sounded suspiciously like “he’s never suffered a day in his life” and before planting a kiss on your temple and throwing the door open. “Henderson, you’re lucky she loves you.”
Dustin rolled his eyes, shouldering past his friend. He had the decency to give you a sheepish look on his way to the living room. “Where’d you leave it, Dusty-Bun?” You asked, Dustin called something back, but you were distracted by Steve playing with the hem of your sweatshirt.
“You waited months, a couple more minutes won’t kill you, hot-shot.”
Steve groaned, his forehead meeting the space between your neck and your shoulder. “It’s sweet you think it’s only been months.”
Years ago I saw a Lord of the Rings display at Barnes and Noble that included a Hallmark-style greeting card with Frodo on the front and inside text that read: “We set out to save the Shire, Sam. And it has been saved. But not for me.”
And I have been thinking about that card ever since, desperately wishing I had bought it, and wondering what the fuck kind of occasion would warrant a card featuring that sentiment.
weirdly enough, i have actually been the recipient of that exact card. it was a birthday card from someone who knew i loved lotr but didn’t really know much about the actual movie, but i feel like she should’ve been clued into the ‘wtf’ vibe from the incredibly agonized face frodo is making on the front of the card.
If you still have that card… I would do anything to see a photo of it. You can cover up the personalized message, but I really, really, really want to see proof that this card existed and was not the product of my overactive imagination.
I’d forgotten just how close to death Frodo looks on the front, not to mention Sam’s agonized face and the very odd stylistic choice of including the Ring instruction and the Eye of Sauron in the background. who the hell is the target audience for this?
An Arranged Marriage AU | Tony Stark x Reader | Slow Burn | Off-Canon (slightly)
Summary: When you agreed to marry billionaire genius Tony Stark, it was all business—no love, no strings, and definitely no expectations. Just a tidy little contract between two powerful empires. He keeps up his playboy image. You keep your distance. And no one gets hurt.
But Tony is chaos in a designer suit—brilliant, unpredictable, and carrying more secrets than charm. And you? You’re starting to realize that pretending not to care might be harder than you thought.
In public, you’re the perfect couple. Behind closed doors? You’re strangers navigating tension, late-night silences, and the kind of moments that feel dangerously real.
Especially when he looks at you like that. And especially when you start looking back.
All marriages have terms. Some come with conditions. And a cat.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~✨💍🥂✨~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: You remember that Arranged Marriage AU we discussed a while back? I decided to write it. Finally.
The problem w writing fiction is that you'll be like tee-hee I'm going to write a story about a fucked up little scenario that's got nothing to do with anything in real life, just some pure messed up nonsense, and then you finish it and take a step back and go aw rats I made a metaphor again
ever since someone pointed out to me that shakespeare wrote "twelfth night" after one of his twin children died, it's hit different.
like we know precious little about shakespeare's life and even less about what was on his mind when he wrote each play, but....he wrote a story where the twins torn apart by fate reunite, where the brother thought to be dead and gone forever actually miraculously survived, where the emotional climax of the story isn't the various love triangles getting sorted out, but the twins finding each other again and getting to live happily ever after.
This post came from @maythevoidnotscreamback who asked me to take the time to mention some of the Usagi/Mamoru centered fanfics I have enjoyed over the years and give my recommendations.
First I’d like to give an honorable mention: I have recently finished the entire Lunar Chronicles series by the fantastic Marissa Meyer and find her style to be captivating. For those unaware, she got her start as a fanfic author under the name Alicia Blade. I plan on dedicating my time in 2025 to getting through her stories.
Next up: I want to make another mention for unfinished fics. I feel bad getting people addicted to stories which don't have an ending but I can’t help but want to mention them because they are so good.
For the good of a Kingdom by Silent_Figure: I have skimmed this one for the most part but it has a lot of potential. It features a rift between Endymion and Serenity and it seems like the author is trying to get them back together. Until I see it though I’m hesitant.
After All This Time by SunRedDreamer: The newest story on this list and I am hoping the author will be able to finish it. Mamoru awakens after Galaxia took his star seed only to find Crystal Tokyo has come and Usagi has become Queen by herself. It’s highly addictive and I can’t get enough of it.
Sailor Moon X by Starling_Sinclair: One of the best re-writings of the original season. Usagi is an adult when Luna awakens her to being Sailor Moon.
Mine by PeachBunnyBaby: My first exposure to the Alpha/Omega/Beta style of writing and the pining between Mamoru and Usagi is palpable.
At World’s End by Shnuggletea: After being defeated by a monster, Usagi wakes up to find the Dark Kingdom has taken over the world. From there she had to reunite with all her friends and connect with Mamoru at the same time.
Now for the main list. I’m going to try and limit these to one story per author. There are a lot of
Interlude by Sexylyon: The oldest story on the list and shows just how long I’ve been in this fandom. In a period where everything was tentacle stories and poorly written sex scenes, this small novella tugs at the heartstrings.
Desperate and Divine by Antigone: Mamoru and Usagi’s time apart goes much longer than predicted. Unfortunately, Usagi feels like she’s wronged Mamoru in a way that is unforgivable. It’s an element of their relationship I enjoyed someone tackling.
It’s always been you by Beej88: Ever have a fic come to you at exactly the right time? I was just thinking about a story where Usagi’s family adopts Mamoru after his parent’s car accident. From there, its childhood friends grappling with the feelings of love they have for one another.
R is for Reverse by Daikon1: Mamoru has to be the one to fight monsters during the Makai Tree saga. A look at the lengths Mamoru is willing to go through to make Usagi happy.
To have and to hold by Lin_Lamont: Usagi and Mamoru are getting married. Not a lot of drama but a lot of great smut and loving between the pair.
Poisoned Mind by Shnuggletea: A dark Endymion story where his need for Usagi remains despite the brainwashing. It features a lot of great action and even more intimate moments.
How to love a princess by WildRIverInTheSky: Another Season 1 retelling but allows the Senshi to reconnect with their Shitennou lovers. At the same time Mamoru and Usagi are deeply in love.
Shattered Pieces by Max333: Mamoru and Usagi are divorced but circumstances are bringing them back together. Not Rei friendly but the longing Usagi and Mamoru have for each other is palpable.
The heatwave by Rei0ki: A great non-power story. A kiss leads to something more and the sexual tension between Usagi and Mamoru is high. I checked the websites regularly for updates. It was that kind of a story.
Infidelity by Spinneroftales: This one has a special place in my heart. It’s a look at Neo-Queen Serenity and King Endymion’s married life. It (along with my own headcanon of those two enjoying a healthy sex life for their 1000 years of marriage) helped to inspire me to write my royal affairs series. It’s a great story and I highly recommend it.
