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dindjarindiaries · 1 month

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character: Din Djarin (The Mandalorian)

prompts: “You could have died, you know.” “I’m fine. There’s nothing for you to worry about.” and “I’m afraid of losing you, okay?”

main masterlist • prompt masterlist

"Hey! Hey. Stay with me." There was a gentle tap on your cheek that smelled of leather and blaster fire. You groaned and blinked your eyes open, wincing as light caught the silver helmet that leaned over you. "Hey." The modulated voice was even softer that time. "You with me?"

You nodded, grunting as you sat up on your elbows. Din's hands continued to hold the sides of your face, his thumbs stroking your cheeks as his visor gave you a once-over.

"Easy." His command was gentle, rooted in nothing more than concern as his hands eased their way down to your shoulders. "That was a hell of a blow you took there."

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just got the wind knocked out of me." You exhaled and began to stand. "We need to get back to the ship."

Din stood with you, one hand on your back and the other holding tight to your hand. If you weren't still somewhat disoriented, your heart would've been pounding at his touch and his proximity. "Only if you're able."

You huffed and raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm fine." You gestured with your head in the direction of the ship. "Let's get going."

Din nodded, drawing his blaster as the two of you began to run to back to the ship. There was no doubt the two of you had already taken care of your attackers, but it never hurt to be cautious. Din, however, was even more on edge than usual, his free hand staying close to you as his visor checked on you more than it did on the way ahead.

It was perhaps the most nervous you had ever seen him.

Once you were on the ship, Din secured the hatch closed behind you, and he wasted no time heading to the cockpit to get you off the planet. You collapsed into the nearest chair and took a few breaths, running your hand over your forehead as a slight ache began to arise. You had known you wouldn't be able to walk away from a detonator blast without at least a little pain.

You were so distracted by these thoughts that you didn't even hear Din return until he was kneeling in front of you with the medpac. You lifted your head at the sight of it and clicked your tongue as you shook your head. "Din, that's really not necessary."

He didn't stop shuffling through the medpac as he answered. "I'd like to make sure." Din paused and glanced up at you. "Please."

You couldn't help giving in to the pure worry in his tone. Your lips stretched in a small smile as you nodded. He returned the gesture and lifted a handheld scanner, using it on various parts of your head, arms, and more to make sure you were free of any critical injures. It time and time again chimed in the negative.

You watched him as he worked, taking note of the way his gloved hand shook as he held the scanner. His free hand was on your knee, and his touch pulsated every once in a while as if he was grounding himself to you over and over again. You furrowed your brow, and once he had completed his scans, you couldn't help speaking on it.

"Din." You reached out for the sides of his helmet, encouraging him to look at you. You searched his visor before nodding firmly. "It's all right."

Din held a breath in his armored chest, his shoulders tensing as his hand on your knee tightened again. His visor fell to study his grasp on you, as if you would fall away if he let go or looked away. After a long pause, he spoke in a voice so strained that it pulled on each of your heartstrings. "You could have died, you know."

You softened even more at that, your thumbs running over his beskar cheeks as you tried to soothe him. "I’m fine. There’s nothing for you to worry about."

Din shook his helmet, lowering it until it was resting against the knee he wasn't still holding. His shoulders rose and fell with each unsteady breath he took. Your softness was exchanged for fierce worry of your own as you ran a hand over his helmet.

"Din." You utterance of his name was just above a whisper. He still remained where he was, practically curled up into you as he clung to you the best he could. "What is it?"

He didn't move even as he answered your question. "I'm afraid."

Your eyes widened at that. You had been convinced that there wasn't a single thing in the galaxy Din Djarin was actually afraid of. He had sure as hell proven that over your time together. "What are you so afraid of?"

Din sighed, lifting his helmet once again so that his visor could face you. His hand ran from your knee to your thigh as if the motion helped him to gain the strength to say the words he was holding so close to his chest. "I’m afraid of losing you, okay?"

You instantly fell apart at his vulnerability. Your brow relaxed as you held his helmet between your hands again and urged him to get closer. The way you moved to the end of the chair helped to close the distance, and soon, you were able to rest your forehead against his helmet. "You won't lose me, Din." You shook your head to emphasize your point. "Not now, not ever."

Din exhaled a troubled breath. "We don't know that." His gloved fingers drummed against your thigh as he fought for strength to go on. "I... have lost so much. It almost feels inevitable. I've put my head down and kept going, but..."

His breath caught in his throat. Your sympathy for him nearly made your eyes well with tears as you waited patiently for him to finish.

"If it were you..." One of Din's hands rose to hold your wrist in place. "I couldn't bear it. Not even the thought of it."

You tried your best to put on a genuine smile for him as you began to reassure him. "I'll be more careful, Din. Okay?" You kissed the center of his visor. "Thank you for sharing this with me. I know it's not easy."

Din huffed, and a wave of relief flowed through you at the evidence of the darkness starting to leave him. "Neither is jumping near a detonator to protect me."

You chuckled, shrugging as your face began to warm. "Well, you would've done the same for me."

Din tilted his helmet at that. "Yeah. In protective armor."

You closed your eyes and savored your closeness. "I guess you'll have to find me my own suit of armor, then."

Din's hand gave your thigh a gentle squeeze. "I'll be your armor."

You reopened your eyes, smiling at him before you wrapped your arms around his neck to embrace him. Your cheek rested upon the cloth around his neck and shoulders as you nodded to yourself. "Perfect."

din djarin tag list: @yorksgirl @zenrobbins0021 @cyaredindjarin @cw80831 @maddiedrmr

#hopefully this makes sense bc i wrote this while like half asleep HAHAHA #i just want to comfort him #din djarin #the mandalorian #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin fic #prompts #dindjarindiaries

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chronicowboy · 4 months

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Maddie humbles him pretty severely in their conversation. Look, he knows it's stupid, knows it's selfish really, knows it's just plain crappy of him. But. But he hurt Christopher. And there wasn't some big uncontrollable variable like a tsunami that Eddie can explain it away with.

Sure, it was an accident, but it still happened. Sure, it was only a few scrapes that he'd cleaned up almost immediately with the little first aid kit tucked into the glove compartment of his Jeep - and, well, maybe part of the guilt is the way Christopher had grimaced at the added sting of the antiseptic wipes. But he'd done it. He'd made Christopher cry. And he'd ran as soon as Eddie swept in to take care of him. He'd ran before either of them could tell him to get out.

Christopher is injured, and Buck hasn't been to see him once. Christopher is injured because of Buck, and he's only checked in through a much too knowing Eddie. Because he's a coward, especially when it comes to Christopher. Jesus, nothing in the world scares him more than Christopher. Everything's so big and inconceivable with him. Buck feels it all, feels it all so strongly. The things he'd do for that kid... Well, that scares him too. Almost as much as Christopher's anger does, but he can't run from it forever. He can't stay away forever, so he shoots Eddie a quick text as he leaves Maddie's.

Can I come see Chris at some point?

He's just buckling himself into the driver's seat when his phone buzzes with a reply.

Get over here

Another buzz.

Now

His already knotted stomach twists into an even more complex shape as he turns the key in the ignition, but he has to face the music some time or another. May as well be now.

It takes him an inordinately long and nauseating time to get to the Diaz door, an even longer time to actually knock and then a terrifyingly short amount of time for Eddie to be appearing before him with those big, understanding eyes he can never seem to escape.

"Hi," he mumbles, suddenly struck with what image he must make out there on the porch. A naughty dog with a guiltily hung head and a tail between his legs just waiting to be patted on the head and told he's forgiven.

"Buck, come in." Eddie rolls his eyes and practically drags him inside. Buck had been about ninety-nine per cent sure (okay, maybe more like eighty) that Eddie's texts had been fond exasperation and not actual anger, but it's not until he hears Eddie's voice that he knows for sure. He was never a bad dog in Eddie's mind. Buck's tail wags just a little as Eddie leans back against the hallway wall with his arms folded over his chest. "He's in his room and he misses his Buck."

"Even after I almost killed him?" he mutters petulantly.

"Buck, you tripped over his crutches. The both of you went down and, honestly, you walked away worse than he did." Buck opens his mouth to argue, but Eddie ploughs on. "Don't lie to me. I saw those bruises on your ribs last shift. I know how weaponised those elbows can become."

"I'm fine."

"So is he," Eddie says seriously. "You know how many times I've tripped over his crutches?"

"Did you feel guilty about it afterwards?" Buck pries, eyes trained on his shoes where they kick lightly, sheepishly at the carpet.

"Of course, I did. I always do. Hell, I accidentally got some salt in his eyes when we were cooking the other day and I almost took myself down to Athena's station." Eddie shakes his head, unimpressed. "I'm his dad, I'd send him outside in a bubble wrap suit if I could. But I've been informed that isn't 'cool'," Buck snorts, "so I'm trying my best to make peace with the fact that that he's going to get hurt and I'm not always going to be stop it. But." Eddie steps closer, drops a hand to Buck's shoulder, ducks his hand to catch his eye. And Buck feels the echo of a wave and three ragged scratches across his face. "But I can always be there after it happens, to pick him back up and tend to his wounds, yeah?"

"Yeah," Buck whispers, nodding against the whirring of his brain.

"He's already mostly healed up. Go and see for yourself." Eddie leaves with a pointed look at Christopher's door, and Buck stays staring down the hallway like he can will it into something that feels a little less like a walk on the plank.

As he takes his first step, for just a moment, he wishes he was back in the endless labyrinthine hallways of his coma dream just to postpone his fate a little longer.

See, what he hadn't told Maddie was that he had actually tried texting Christopher a few days after their tumble. A sorry and an I hope you're okay and a jokey maybe we should leave basketball to the pros which had only gleaned a thumbs up emoji in response. So, he's not feeling very optimistic when he knocks on Christopher's door.

"Who is it?"

"It's Buck, buddy." Silence. A sigh maybe, if he strains. "C-can I come in?"

Another pause.

"Fine."

Buck pushes into the room with his heart in his throat. Christopher doesn't look up from his textbook where he's propped up against his headboard, just carries on reading. Buck approaches carefully, hovering at the end of the bed where he'd normally just sit.

"How are you doing?" he asks uselessly.

"Fine."

"Yeah?" Christopher only shrugs, and Buck sighs in defeat. "I'm really sorry, bud. I didn't mean to do it, you have to know that. I'd never ever do anything to hurt you-"

"Wait." Chris finally looks up from his book with his frown. "Do you think I'm mad because you tripped me up?"

"I-I, well, yeah." Buck blinks. "So, you are mad?"

"Yeah, I'm mad, but not about that." Chris groans and slams his book shut. "Why'd you disappear?"

"B-because I thought you'd be mad at me for, you know, hurting you," Buck says dumbly. Christopher rolls his eyes so similarly to Eddie's earlier expression that Buck aches with it.

"You didn't hurt me. Gravity hurt us."

"But you're mad at me."

"Because you disappeared!" Chris bursts. Buck's mouth snaps shut with a click. "Everything's changing. You and me and dad barely ever hang out anymore. And I know I'm getting older, so I shouldn't want to, but I do. But you're both dating, so it's always just the one of you. Or the three of us and a stranger. And I hate it. And the last time this happened, you promised you weren't going anywhere, but you did! And I want you both to be happy, and I really don't want dad to feel so lonely now I'm growing up, but I wish..." Christopher ducks his head as if suddenly realising he'd revealed too much.

"You wish?" Buck asks on the exhale of a breath he'd been holding since Christopher's little outburst, something fierce and jagged latching itself to his sternum.

"I wish you both could be happy with..." He shrinks into himself a little, and Buck wraps his hand around the footboard like a lifeline - like whatever Christopher is about to say will turn the world upside down. "I wish this was enough. I wish the three of us could make you both as happy as-as it makes me." He flushes and cracks his textbook open. "It sounds dumb when I say it."

"No, no," Buck croaks, something big and unwieldy expanding against the inside of his ribs, something that could choke him if he let it. "It doesn't sound dumb at all."

#sami rambles #wrote this in half an hour sorry! but i have actual work to do today so........#anyway i love one red herring conflict being used as a vehicle for a bigger deeper conflict :DD #911 spoilers #911 show #911 abc #911 spec #buckley diaz family #buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #christopher diaz #911 fic #911 ficlet #911 spec fic #buckley diaz family fic

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essektheylyss · 26 days

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One thing that I feel is really interesting and often forgotten about Essek is that fundamentally, his characterization has been from the start based upon his desperation for external perspectives and connection, which, along with much of his narrative and mechanical positioning, means that he actually has an extraordinary and almost (but not actually, as I'll show) counterintuitive capacity for both growth and trust.

(Buckle in. This is a long one.)

In particular, I would argue, knowing now that many places where the plot touches Ludinus have long been marked for connecting back into the current plot, that he was quite possibly built as a prime candidate for radicalization by the Ruby Vanguard. He felt isolated from his culture, he was desperate for other connection, and he was certainly of the type to believe he was too smart to be drawn into such a thing, given his initial belief that he could control the situation and the fallout. If things had gone any other way, he easily could've been on the other side by now.

As such, he has been hallmarked by being fairly open to suggestion, perhaps for this reason, but the thing about that kind of trait is that it is both how people are radicalized and deradicalized. This is certainly true of Essek, who experienced genuine kindness and quite frankly strangeness from the Nein and was able to move from the isolation the Assembly had engendered to meaningful and genuine connection, largely propelled by his own internal reflection. By the time Nein are aware of his crimes, he's already begun to express regret to an extent and, furthermore, doubt in the Assembly, including explicitly drawing a line against Ludinus, even in a position where he was on his own and probably quite vulnerable.

Similarly, when the Nein reach the Vurmas Outpost some weeks later, he has moved from regret for the position he's ended up carrying a heavy remorse. This makes sense! He's fairly introspective, seems used to spending a lot of time in his own head, and was left with plenty to mull over. It's not some kind of retcon for him to have progressed well past where the Nein left him; it just means he's an active participant in the world who has done his own work in the meantime.

This is another interesting aspect to him. I've talked about this a bit before but I cannot find the post so I'll recap here: antagonists in D&D have significantly more agency than allied NPCs. Antagonists are active forces, against which the party is meant to struggle; allies are meant to support the PCs, which means they tend to be more passive in both their actions and their character growth. Essek was both built as an antagonist, in a position that gives him significant agency, and also was then given significant opportunity to grow specifically to act as a narrative mirror for Caleb's arc. Even when he becomes a more traditional D&D ally, he still retains much of that, though he occupies a supporting role.

I believe that this is especially true because of the nature of Caleb's arc, which I've already written on; the tl;dr of this post is that Caleb is both convinced that he is permanently ruined and also desperate to prove that change is possible. Essek is that proof, because he is simply the character in a position to do so. But this also means that his propensity for introspection and openness is accentuated! He has to do the legwork on his own, for the most part, because that's where he is in the meantime.

But he still ends the campaign necessarily constricted; he is under significant scrutiny, he's at risk from the Assembly, and he goes on the run fairly soon after the story ends. He spends most of the final arc anxious and paranoid, which is valid given the crushing reality of his situation. It would be very easy to extrapolate that seven years into this reality, he would be insular, closed off, and suspicious of strangers, even in spite of the lessons he's learned from the Nein and their long term exposure.

So seeing his openness and lightness now is surprising, but at the same time, given this combination of factors in his position in the narrative over time and his defining traits, it's not by any means unreasonable.

But one thing that I found so delightful is how much trust he exhibits, which is obviously a wild thing to say about Essek in particular, given much of what he learns is both earning and offering trust, which was something he says explicitly in 2x124 that he's never really experienced: "I've never really been trusted and so I did not trust." It makes up much of the progression of his relationship with Caleb, and the trust that he is offered by the Nein in walking off the ship is the impetus he needs to grow.

But I think it's easy to talk about trust when it comes to people who have proven themselves to you or to whom you've ingratiated yourself, and that's really the most we can say about Essek by the time he leaves the Blooming Grove. There is this sense in a lot of discussion of trust (not solely in this fandom) that it is only related to either naivete or love, but there's far more to it. Trust at its best is deliberate—cultivating an openness to the world at large is a great way to combat cynicism and beget connection instead. It allows a person to maintain curiosity and be open to experience, but it can be incredibly difficult to hold onto.

It is clear that the Essek we meet now is a very pointedly and intentionally trusting individual. He trusts Caleb and by extension Caleb's trust in Keyleth, as he shows up and picks up a group of strangers from a foreign military encampment and walks in without issue. He trusts the Hells to follow his lead moving through Zadash and to exhibit enough discretion so as to avoid bringing suspicion upon all of them. He trusts that Astrid will respond well to his entrance, but he also trusts himself and the Hells enough to execute a back-up plan in the case that she doesn't. In the end, he even trusts them enough to give them his name and identity.

He doesn't scan as someone who has spent half a dozen years living like a prey animal, afraid of any shadow he runs across in an alley, withdrawn into himself and an insular family, which would've been an easy route for him to take. He scans as someone who has learned the kind of trust borne of learned confidence and a trained eye for good will and kindness, which are crucial weapons one would need for staving off cynicism in his circumstances—as if he has survived thanks more to connection and kindness than paranoia and isolation. (If we want to be saccharine about it, he scans quite poignantly as a member of the Mighty Nein.)

So it is easy to imagine this trust and openness as a natural progression of his initial search for perspectives external to his own cultural knowledge. Though he makes those first connections with the Assembly to try to vindicate his personal hypotheses, he finds in them exposure to the deepest corruption among Exandrian mortals, which could've—and did, for a time—turned him further down that same dark path.

But it's also this same openness to exposure from the wider world that allows the Nein to influence him for the better, and in spite of the challenges he's certainly faced simply surviving over the past seven years, he seems to have held onto this openness enough to move through the world with self-assurance and a willingness to extend the kinds of trust and good will that he has been shown.

(I would be remiss not to mention that I was reminded about my thoughts on this by this lovely post from sky-scribbles and their use in the tags of 'light' to describe Essek's demeanor this episode, which is really such an apt word for it.)

#something something hope is a weapon hope is a discipline hope is a garden to cultivate!!!#HE'S SO GOOD HE IS TRULY EXEMPLAR OF THE WHOLE PHILOSOPHY OF THE NEIN AND I DO NOT THINK THAT'S AN ACCIDENT #truly just like. enormous proponent of letting trust and curiosity into your heart regardless of the horrors.#it's hard and it makes you more vulnerable and sometimes it hurts so so much but it will also save your fucking life!#cr spoilers #critical role #essek thelyss #cr meta #I was gonna apologize for the length but I'm not sorry. I'm also not sorry for being insane about him but he's so special to me.#head in my hands he's so GOOD HE'S BEST BOI! GUIDING LIGHT NORTH STAR!!! LOOK AT HIM!!!#also truly if i had two nickels for a span of time with no essek sightings where I wrote a lot of fic #with deliberate personal acknowledgment that I was writing some pretty maximal arcs for him in terms of character growth #and then end up getting essek for half an episode and having to go OH WE'RE GOING THAT FAR ACTUALLY. FUCKING INCREDIBLE.#yanno. two nickels. but good lord I am thriving that it's happened twice #augh this is ONE of the pieces I need to write this week. we're not gonna talk about it

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pizzaqueen · 1 year

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What’s that? Another first kiss ficlet from me?? Just over 500 words of fluff

“When was the last time you kissed someone?” Steve pauses, then adds, “Or were kissed.” Because there’s a difference. At least, Steve thinks there is. He’s usually the one doing the kissing but there have been a few times when he’s been kissed and… It’s definitely different.

“What?” Eddie looks up from where he’s rolling a joint, brow furrowed. “I don’t— Huh?”

“Kissing.” Steve leans on his elbow, propping his head on his hand. “When was the last time you did it.” He thinks a moment. “No, the last time you were really good and properly kissed.”

“What does that mean?”

“You know…” Steve lifts one shoulder. “Just the last really good perfect kiss.”

“I don’t know.”

“If you don’t wanna talk about it…”

“I just don’t know.”

“Really?”

Eddie looks at Steve for a moment then rolls off the bed, going over to fiddle with the stereo. “Yeah, really.”

And that’s not right. Eddie should know when he was last kissed. He should be kissed all the time. By Steve, preferably.

Steve goes over, leaning back against the dresser so he can look at Eddie, but Eddie isn’t looking at him. Shit. He kicks Eddie’s foot and says, “Hey, man, it’s cool.”

Eddie sighs, ejecting a tape and switching it over to the other side. He looks at Steve. “It’s been years since I kissed anyone, okay, and it was… It was the wrong person. It was awkward and…” He shakes his head. “Not really a lot of opportunity for me to kiss the right kind of person in Hawkins.”

Oh. Steve has wondered. Mostly at the back of his mind, but… The way Eddie doesn’t talk about things like kissing, or dates, or sex makes sense. Well, he doesn’t talk about them in specifics. It’s always vague. “That’s not right.”

“What?”

“I mean, you should be kissed.”

“Why?”

“You just should be.” Steve leans a little closer, heart beating hard.

Eddie presses play and crosses his arms over his chest. “You got any volunteers in mind?”

“I might.” Steve looks at Eddie a moment, then he reaches out, curling his fingers around Eddie’s wrist, tugging until Eddie unfolds his arms. “But it depends how you feel about the person I’m thinking of.”

Eddie looks over Steve’s face, searching, and then he says, “I don’t— I don’t wanna be wrong about this,” and Steve slides his hand down until he’s palm to palm with Eddie. Eddie makes a choked little noise and laces his fingers with Steve’s. He raises his brows in question, looking at Steve so open and hopeful that Steve’s chest squeezes tight.

So, he pulls on their joined hands, raises his other to cup Eddie’s face, and softly, gently kisses him. He kisses him and kisses him, the way Eddie should be kissed, the way he hopes—is pretty sure—Eddie wants to be kissed. And then Eddie brings his hand up to Steve’s face and then Eddie is kissing him. And it’s so so good.

When they part, Eddie licks his lips and says, “Today.”

“What?”

“That was the last time I was good and properly kissed.”

Steve smiles and says, “It won’t be the last time,” and he kisses Eddie again.

#steddie #Steve x eddie #Steddie fic #Steddie fanfic #wrote this in like 20 minutes when I should’ve been working on my WIPs lol #but I forgot that I dreamed this the other night and wanted to write it down lol #or like half dreamed it #Steddie first kiss #pizzaqueenfic

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wikiangela · 2 months

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several sentence sunday

tagged by @hippolotamus

sooo bucktommy won me over, i couldn't resist anymore 🙈 so here's a bit of them after their date lol just to be clear, im still 10000% about buddie but im gonna enjoy this while it lasts bc I feel like this is exactly what buck needs rn lol I just wanna write him be giddy and stupid and flustered about a boy even if that's not eddie haha (also, I didn't get the Tommy hype before but after seeing him everywhere for two days... I get it now 🥵)

___

"(...) We should do this again.” Tommy says, turning fully towards Buck, and Buck’s eyes immediately find his lips. He can’t wait to kiss him again, and this would be the time, at the end of the date, wouldn’t it?

“We should.” Buck nods, licks his lips, eyes darting up to Tommy’s eyes. He’s smiling softly, just looking at Buck. “I-” he starts, and then thinks, fuck it, and this time he makes a move, as he leans across the console to grab Tommy’s chin, like he did Buck’s in his kitchen, and bring him in for a kiss. Tommy immediately reciprocates, and Buck melts against him, and then when Tommy’s calloused hand covers his cheek, it just feels so- so different, in the best way possible. This kiss lasts longer than the first one, each of them constantly coming back for more, but it’s as gentle and tender as that one. Buck loves it, and can’t help smiling into it. He wants more. “Hey.” Buck says, finally pulling away, licks his spit-covered lips nervously. “Do you- do you maybe wanna come in for a beer?” he asks shyly, and at Tommy’s surprised expression and raised eyebrow he realizes it might sound like he’s inviting him for more than a beer, and he panics again. “I- I- I mean, just a beer. And maybe- maybe more of this.” he pecks Tommy’s lips again, not able to resist a smile. “But just a beer. I don’t think I’m- But who knows, maybe-” he stumbles over his words, because the truth is, he wants Tommy, he wants… he wants so much, he wants to experience so much for the first time �� it’s just that he’s not sure if it’s not too quick for this relationship, and for him.

“Evan.” Tommy interrupts, bringing his other hand up, now cradling Buck’s face in both, thumbs moving soothingly along Buck’s cheeks. “Your pace, remember? No pressure, no rush.”

“You’re really cool, you know that?” Buck whispers.

“So I keep hearing.” Tommy chuckles, and it’s adorable. He kisses Buck again, and the butterflies in Buck’s stomach go crazy. Fuck, he doesn't remember the last time he felt this giddy and excited and just light. “I’d love to come in for a beer.”

___

no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @thebravebitch @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @watchyourbuck @eowon @loserdiaz @evanbegins @ladydorian05 @wildlife4life @diazpatcher @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @thewolvesof1998 @neverevan @weewootruck @loveyouanyway @spagheddiediaz @rainbow-nerdss @epicbuddieficrecs @pirrusstuff @spotsandsocks @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @nmcggg @rogerzsteven @giddyupbuck @sunshinediaz @honestlydarkprincess @underwater-ninja-13 @exhuastedpigeon @911-on-abc @jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings @theotherbuckley @buddieswhvre @dangerpronebuddie @diazsdimples @daffi-990 @bidisasterbuckdiaz @fortheloveofbuddie @hoodie-buck @tizniz @your-catfish-friend

#seven sentence sunday #no one look at me i gave in i'm officially boarding the bucktommy ship lmao (as in for now lol my heart will always belong to buddie ofc)#ngl i kinda hate like half of what i wrote so far and really wanna rewrite it but we'll see haha #also i still have mixed feelings about tommy calling buck evan but it's growing on me ngl #this is insane what is going on why is tommy/lou just taking over and changing my whole mind rn lmao #I just want buck to be all giddy and flustered and explore this and just be excited about it aahhh im obsessed lol #fic snippet #wikiangela writes #my writing #my wips #911 fic #911 abc #bucktommy #tommy kinard #evan buckley #bucktommy post-date fic #idk how to tag this lol #btw the beer will lead to some heavy making out bc buck deserves to make out with a cute guy lol

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moo-blogging · 1 month

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Nothing in my head but with Levi:

It had been a rough week, but it was finally Friday now, and you got off from work just to find your husband waiting for you at the lobby of your office. Levi cleared his Friday night for you, knowing that you had a difficult week at work. Although he was your superior, he never made you feel like you made it because of your relationship with him. But you were still his one and only love, he would move mountains and swim through oceans for you.

Levi's take out was sitting in the car, waiting for you. You gave him a hug before he ushered you into the car. You asked Levi about his meeting, he shrugged and said his staffs deserve a peaceful weekend. You talked about work in the car, describing your horrible day to your patient husband. Levi nodded and gave minimal comment here and there. After half an hour of whining, you reached home.

You ate the takeout with Levi on the dining table, listening and nodding to Levi as he talked about his day. His day seemed busy, more bullshit and headache compared to yours. And now you were regretting your overreaction in the car earlier. But Levi patted your head, saying "don't compare your day to mine, Y/n. Don't invalid your bad day just because you think my bad day is worse than yours. You had it rough too."

You nodded gratefully. Levi always knew how to make you feel better. You cleaned up after dinner and decided to take a quick shower together. Levi washed your hair, massaging your scalp to release your stress. You scrubbed Levi's back and gave him a quick massage on his shoulders and nape. Levi exhaled in relaxation when you untied his knot.

You were in bed early. You felt that your body grew heavier with each second as you lay in bed. Your eyelids were fighting to stay open but your brain was switching itself off. Levi had done his routine of checking the doors and windows. He locked the bedroom door and was ready to call it a day.

He chuckled to himself as he watched you struggling to stay awake. He swicthed the lights off and crawled into bed with you. You clumsily hang onto him, wiggling into your comfy position. Levi pulled the blanket that you accidentally slipped under your butt and draped it over you.

You swallowed and smacked your lips a few times. The heavy sleepiness washed over you, and you were drifting away. You felt Levi's soft lips kissing your opened mouth. You tried to pull yourself awake to kiss him back.

Levi chuckled softly, "sleep tight, Sleeping Beauty." And he pressed a strong, doting kiss on your cheek. You fell asleep with Levi's warm cheek on yours and his arms around you. What a good way to start the weekend.

#i just wanna write fluff #sorry to the anon with the smut request #its sitting in my draft i wrote it half way #love ya #levi ackerman fic #levi ackerman #levi fluff #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi heichou #levi x y/n #midnight thoughts #levi x you #aot x y/n #levi ackerman x you #levi thoughts #just levi #levi drabble

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leohtttbriar · 8 months

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the charm of early-seasons kira and dax being this side-step from the bickering screwball couple to something just a bit softer because the writers, i feel deliberately, wanted to write them as friends. so both characters have these interactions, especially in this episode, where they find the other one massively weird but they're also ride-or-die loyal, no-questions-asked; "sure-i'll-change-my-whole-face-to-match-yours-and-dress-as-as-a-religious-leader-in-your-faith-to-which-you-are-notably-devout," "well-i-find-that-the-prospect-of-losing-You-supercedes-the-prospect-of-losing-the-creature-you-carry-that-your-culture-reveres-as-a-far-far-worse-outcome"; one orders the other to leave her behind, the other just carries her from harm; one flies a busted ship, one thumps it with a hammer to get it going in some old school engineering hack; both think the other is reckless, both definitely are reckless; both wear their loyalty to each other like an unobtrusive and understated locket---that is until they feel the need to state it Very Loudly. "don't hurt my weird friend. she's weird. and my friend. which are both precious things to me," they say. the charm of sci-fi alien love, is what it is. also feminism.

#i rewatched this episode which was half the reason i wrote the cowboy/ecologist jadzia fic #this particular dynamic means a lot to me #ds9 #kiradax #kira nerys #jadzia dax #star trek

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pretentiouswreckingball · 2 months

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✯my entry for the @croptopjames fest✯

jegulus | 1.3k | non-canon/magical au

summary:

It was revenge, they say, for a prank they played on the other houses. So if Lupin and Pettigrew got their trousers turn into shorts, and Black got his shirt turn into a crop top, then that means Potter—

“Did you hear what happened?”

“They say it was revenge for a prank on the other houses,”

“Seems like a weird way to take revenge,”

“Someone said it was a new statement for the dress code,”

“Of course those Gryffindors would come up with something like that,”

“Mila from my transfiguration class says someone charmed their clothes to transform into something else whenever they wear it. You know, trousers turn into shorts and—”

“Oh, so that’s why Lupin and Pettigrew were wearing shorts! But why was Black’s shirt cropped? Not that I mind the view but—”

“Maybe the spell worked in pairs? If Lupin and Pettigrew got shorts, and Black’s shirt was cropped, then maybe Potter got—”

But Regulus had heard enough.

He should’ve known something was off the moment he crossed Lupin and Pettigrew earlier that day wearing shorts of all things, but if he was completely honest with himself, his mind was somewhere else and didn’t even think twice about it. But now, after eavesdropping on a conversation of some sixth years, maybe he shouldn’t have been so dismissive.

Entering the Great Hall for lunch, Regulus makes a b-line for his seat at the end of the Slytherin table and starts filling his plate absentmindedly, trying to ignore the sight of his brother at the Gryffindor table, talking animatedly to Lupin and Pettigrew, still in those ridiculous clothes. His mind inevitably going to the person who’s conveniently, not among them.

The thing is, Regulus isn’t capable of thinking of a piece of clothing that would look bad on James Potter.

He has seen the guy practising on the Quidditch pitch for Salazar’s sake. He has had a front row of what James’ body looks like when he leans on his broom, quaffle in hand, gaining some speed over his fellow teammates. He has seen how his forearms look when he grips the handle hard and how his thighs squeeze the rear of the broom when he’s doing a particularly hard move so he doesn’t fall.

So no, he doesn't think there’s a piece of clothing that would look bad on him, he could pull any look, especially a crop top, and that is the problem, isn’t it?

Regulus could feel his cheeks warming at the thought. Oh no this is bad, what he’s going to do if he sees him wearing that? He’s going to make a fool of himself and he can’t afford that. No, Regulus needs to get the fuck out of there if he wants to make it with his dignity intact.

Practically stuffing his face, Regulus tries to be as quick as possible, cursing in his mind at the idiot who hexed James Potter to be stuck with that particular piece of clothing, or lack thereof, more like.

“Let it not be said that we don’t do anything nice for you, Regulus,” a voice comes from behind and Regulus freezes and then groans.

Looking up from his plate, he eyes the pair who has taken the seats in front of him, both looking smug as fuck, “You guys are unbelievable,”

Evan hums in agreement, “Aren’t we just?”

“Wasn’t a compliment,”

Barty tuts disapprovingly, stealing a piece of food from Regulus' plate and popping it in his mouth, “Why Regulus, we thought you would be thrilled by this, can’t believe you’re this ungrateful.”

“Crop tops, really?” He huffs, stabbing whatever is left of his chicken, “And don’t get me started on the shorts.”

“Those were my idea,” Evan mentions.

Regulus doesn’t get it, “Why though?”

“We couldn’t be so obvious and only hex Potter, we had to cover our traces,” Barty says, turning his head slightly to look at the Gryffindor table. “Besides, the others look ridiculous, minus your brother of course, the bastard is fit as fuck.”

“Why though?” Regulus repeats, this time even more aggravated at the notion of Barty ogling his brother.

Evan gives him a pointed look, “You know why,”

Regulus drop his gaze, sniffing lightly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,”

Barty smirks at him, “You will,”

There’s a sudden ruckus at the entrance. The voices grow loud and you could hear some whistles here and there but what actually catches Regulus’ eyes when he looks up, is the man at the doors.

Something inside him is pleased to notice he was right about James looking good in any piece of clothing, especially something that would show his really fit body. James is looking a little dishevelled, but that only makes him look even prettier. Still enthralled by the sight of James Potter wearing something this sinful, Regulus notices a little too late a voice shouting really close to him, efficiently taking him out of his rivery.

“Looking good, Potter!”

“Barty!” Regulus hisses in embarrassment as James looks in his direction. And oh, the way he smiles at Regulus as soon as their eyes connect.

Regulus is incapable of doing much else under the intensity of that look, he wants to run like he had planned before. He wants to hide, not only from James but from the way he feels when he’s near. Pathetic as it is, the only thing Regulus is capable of doing is following James as he makes his way to the Slytherin table.

Regulus blinks hard at that. Wait, Slytherin table?

Before Regulus can process that, James is already standing right in front of him.

“Rosier, Crouch,” he greets them, still not taking his eyes off Regulus.

“Potter,” Barty nods in his direction. “Nice shirt, does it come in men’s?”

James grin turns sharp, “You don’t want me to answer that, Crouch,”

“Okay, time to go, have a great one!” Evan practically drags Barty aways as the latter cackles like a madman all the way out of the Great Hall.

When his laugh fades, James is still in front of Regulus and Regulus is purposefully looking at anything but his face, so his gaze inevitably fall at the only thing at his eye-level, James’ stomach.

There are beads of sweet running down over that beautiful golden skin and all Regulus wants, is to touch it to see if it’s as soft as it looks. Wondering how it would feel under his teeth.

James clears his throat to catch Regulus' attention. Unnecessary, since he hasn’t lost it the moment he entered the Great Hall.

“So, Regulus,” he starts.

“Yes?” He can see the trail of hair disappearing under the navy trousers. He’s having a hard time not to reach out and touch it.

He’s being so brave about this whole thing, someone should notified his mind-healer.

A beat of silence and then a hand, reaching for his chin and turning his face up, callous fingers against his soft skin. The sight of James’ playful smile makes something inside him melt.

“My eyes are up here, love.”

His cheeks get warmer out of the embarrassment of being caught. Not that he was subtle in the least but still, embarrassing.

James doesn’t seem to mind in the least.

“You’re blushing,” he notices.

Regulus' face is practically red at this point.

“Shut up,” he grumbles and James chuckles.

“No, no, I like it,” he says, voice soft. “Red looks good on you,” and then he proceed to fucking caressing his cheek.

It’s settled then, Regulus is living inside a romantic novel where making a fool out of yourself in front of someone you fancy is necessary and crop tops are a thing.

“What do you want?”

“Just wanting to say hello,” James says, eyes softening. “Hello,”

“Hi,” Regulus says, like an idiot.

“Fancy a Quidditch game with me?”

Regulus frowns. “Right now?”

“Why not?”

“You’re not wearing the proper gear,”

James smirks, “I think I will manage,”

This is a bad idea, a terrible one and Regulus knows it, everyone knows it and yet— “Lead the way then,”

James lets his hand drop from his face, and it takes all of Regulus not to chase the touch, but the feeling of loss is quickly replaced with excitement when he sees James holding his hand up for Regulus to take.

Regulus does, of course he does.

Hand in hand, they make it to the Quidditch pitch.

Together.

#well. let it not be said I never do anything nice for you guys #happy birthday James!!!#pathetic Reggie my fave Reggie #wait for the slutty shorts James later today!!#and just fyi Sirius looks amazing in that crop top too #also pardon any mistakes I wrote this last night half asleep #anyways enjoy!!!#james potter #James Potter birthday #croptopjames #jegulus #jegulus fic #jegulus microfic #(?) idk

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loserdiaz · 1 month

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let this be your comfort

eddie & isabel diaz | coming out | gen | 1.4k words

“You can tell me anything, you know that.” “I think, I— I'm, uh, bi.” Eddie blurts out, lets the words slip from his lips and realizes it's the first time he's said them out loud since coming to the realization himself. “I don't— That's not.” Eddie shakes his head and breathes again. “There's this term that fits me better, I think. Demisexual.” Eddie's been reading a lot. The term that has come the closest for him has been Demisexual biromantic, but the words are still hard to push out. He figures the more he says them, the more he accepts himself, it will get easier. It's a work in progress, but he's getting there. A few beats of silence and then Abuela’s hands are cupping his face and gently guiding him to look at her. “Eddito, I'll love you no matter what, okay? This changes nothing.” She says, the softest of smiles playing on her lips and her eyes shining with nothing but love and adoration. “I'm so proud of you, you know that?” or: Abuela is the first person Eddie comes out to.

read on ao3

#i wrote this in half an hour so if it sucks or there's typos.... sorry ig(?#eddie diaz #isabel diaz #eddie diaz & abuela #april writes #my writing #911 abc #911 on abc #911 fic #911 fanfic

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marquisecubey · 5 months

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wish you were here

#persona 3 #kotone shiomi #akihiko sanada #akiham #Cubey's Art #drew this a while ago and forgot to post it lol #I realized that akihiko…….. probably doesn’t have many pictures of his family #and he’s a shy kid too #one of those people who likely doesn’t love having his picture taken even at the best of times #he probably humoured Kotone when she wanted to goof around in a random shitty photo booth at the local strip mall #an old analog one where the film is all expired and the colours are slightly off #and then he just kind of forgot about it until the girls were cleaning out her room and found the strip in an overdue library book #I wrote about half of that fic………….. maybe I’ll finish it one day……..#hamuko arisato #minako arisato #persona 3 femc #persona 3 fanart #persona 3 portable #p3 #p3 femc #illustration #digital art

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minnesota-fats · 2 years

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Crack fic idea where Damien was promised off to some observants to marry the ghost king at 18 or something (the observants hoping it would mellow out their king thinking that the ancients locked him away was only a temporary fix)

But when Danny defeated Pariah Dark, not only did he get his titles but also his fiancé (unbeknownst to him)

And on Damien’s 18th birthday a green portal opens up and a bunch of ghost eyeballs drag him in and Danny wakes up one day being prepped for a wedding he knew nothing about!

BOOM! GHOST MARRIAGE!!!

And the Batfam going crazy trying to find Damien!

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rottingraisins · 1 year

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triannual accumulated clefdraki art dump... some strange little timeline out there where theyre happy i think

#scp #dr kondraki #dr clef #half of this is closet fanart for that god damned fic i wrote a year ago if im honest im still not free of it #inherent romance of road trips etc etc #clefdraki #art

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reds-skull · 8 months

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Fic recs - oneshots (part 3)

ALRIGHT I'm hoping this is the last oneshot post, since there are a lot of other fics I wanna recommend that don't fall in this category.

This post is like 5x longer than the other ones just because I wanted to finish all of my current oneshot recs and otherwise it will take like 3 more posts. So beware there are a lot more under the cut.

If you're new here, these are all sfw oneshots:

i've dug two graves for us, my dear. by eddie_dxaz - Johnny gets buried alive.

Scotch-Soaked Lips by FreeToWriteForMe - Ghost watches Soap while the team is in a bar.

I owe the hat man money and I don't want to see him by Louffox - Ghost gets drugged and hallucinates while Soap tries to keep both of them alive.

Painting the snow red by Faolamb - Ghost is a wraith and Soap werewolf. Soap loses control and Ghost calls him back.

Mild as May by lambstew4you - Ghost and Soap are on a mission, and they have a talk by the campfire.

Hell or High Water by lambstew4you - Soap gets kidnapped and put in a sensory deprivation tank. He is rescued, but the damage is already done.

Daylight Through The Fog by WeirdTin - Ghost is afraid of letting people in. Soap just wants to love every scar.

i never said i'd be alright (just thought i could hold myself together) by TheLastTheosaurus - Ghost gets injured on a mission with Soap. Without exfil in sight, he hides it. Despite his efforts Soap finds out.

Breathe in, Hold it by Hedgehog_kun - Simon and Johnny are in a relationship. Life is good, for once. But one night Soap comes home angry and drunk, and Ghost can't help but freeze.

How it started, how it's going by Nuria123 - The fic where Ghost thinks he and Soap are already dating (5+1).

heat death by eggtimelads - Soap and Ghost spend an afternoon fending off this relentless heat [relatable tbh].

note to self: drink in moderation by eggtimelads - Ghost gets drunk, does a little pining out loud, and gets his reputation ruined while also getting a boyfriend.

Absolutely by ElizaStyx - 5 times Soap confesses to Ghost in a language he thought Ghost didn't understand, and one time he knows full well Ghost does.

the shroud is made of linen by stars_boy - In which Ghost is interrupted while watching the sunrise.

Lets Go Stargazing For Real Next Time by Trouble_13 - Ghost thought they were getting somewhere, but it feels like they have to restart all over again.

Lonely Hearts Club by Wheezing_Joe - Soap and Rudy accidentally start fake dating. Ghost and Alejandro aren't too pleased with it [this is ghostsoap and alerudy, so it's twice as good]

Night Has Always Pushed Up Day by Sillililli - Ghost gets injured and is stuck in a hospital, when they bring in a blind Soap. They're forced to share a room.

dying all the way back to the root by Magpie (QuickSilverFox3) - Soap is separated from Ghost, but Ghost can still hear his voice. He just needs to find him before someone else does.

i fear you will know me but most of all i fear i will never know you by rocketnintendo - Soap hides the extent of his injuries. Ghost finds out and is gentle.

My Heart Leapt From Me by Macabre_Flower - A pipe bursts above Soap's bed in the middle of the night. Ghost offers to help.

Palimpsest by Blackbird_flyaway - Ghost loses all memory from the last 3 years, including all memory of Soap.

The way his feet strike the earth by Blackbird_flyaway - Soap puts on a blindfold and gets kissed as part of a drinking game only it becomes a lot more than that.

i need you to hurt me back instead by TheLastTheosaurus - 5 times Ghost needed a hug, and the one time his got one.

Figure Study by 002405 - Ghost asks Soap to draw him like one of his French girls. Things devolve from there.

love me despite by TheLastTheosaurus - Ghost needs rest. Soap helps him get it.

no better version i could pretend to be tonight by TheLastTheosaurus - Soap can't sleep. he goes to Ghost.

Wash your mouth out with soap by Red_Clegane [the one and only] - Soap is reminded how he got his call sign and Ghost helps him put the pieces back together.

sunday morning (rain is falling) by wellyesbutactuallyno - Soap wants to learn more about Ghost. Ghost lets him.

The Haircut by thevalesofanduin - Soap's hair is too long. Ghost helps him cut it.

On the nights you feel outnumbered (I'll be out there, somewhere) by Brigadier - Ghost feels more irritable than usual and gets involved in a bar fight.

I want to crack open your ribs and crawl in the space left behind (Je veux me lover au creux de ton creur et ne jamais repartir) by flaminpumpkin - Simon ends up having to drag his drunk sergeant back to base and finds himself in a sticky situation because he's too smitten with the man.

Bloody Delirium by GnawingAtMyEyes - Soap gets gravely injured and suffers from blood loss delirium.

Tell Me a Secret by resonatingkitty - Ghost asked Soap to tell him a secret one evening at a bar and what Soap tells him is not what he expected to hear.

Never Hide This (From Me Again) by resonatingkitty - during a mission, Soap gets nicked and doesn't report it to Ghost. Ghost doesn't take it well.

Bruised Peach by Phiunzirus - After their latest mission, Soap's right arm looks like a bruised peach. What happens when Ghost accidentally grabs it a bit too hard?

Kiss me once, then kiss me twice, then kiss me once again (it's been a long, long time) by Angelicasdean - Soap's been home for weeks now, but he's still missing the last piece of the puzzle. Thankfully, it's scheduled to return today.

Forbidden by eddie_dxaz - Ghost comes to terms with his feelings for Soap and tries to fight them. Unsuccessfully.

The Maskmaker by ElizaStyx - Soap finds Ghost working on a new mask.

Cat Dad by ElizaStyx - One day a little kitten appears at the 141 HQ and Soap falls in love. Too bad the kitty only likes Ghost.

Blind date with a book by Nuria123 - Ghost is a famous anonymous writer and Soap loves his books. They fall in love.

Recovery by Nuria123 - Soap and Ghost meet after being medically discharged at a rehab facility. Soap volunteers and Ghost is newly admitted. [this is one of the few fics to make me actually sob hard it's so extremely good]

can't keep johnny down by Wheezing_Joe - Soap loses commes on a mission and presumed dead. After finding his way back to base he's surprised by how much he's been missed.

red woven confessions by wayfaredsoldier - Soap got he and Ghost wishing bracelets in an attempt to grow closer to him and got far more than he expected.

made a bed with apathy (years worth of dust and neglect) by aetherealmoss - Soap gets triggered by someone who looks too much like his painful past, and Ghost is there to help him through it [TW SA, rape and child abuse on this one]

Safe With Me by Wixiany - Soap who is in an abusive relationship befriends Ghost when he moved into the neighborhood. His boyfriend accuses them of cheating and Ghost is blocked for several days until Soap shows up in the middle of the night.

snuffed by crown_twist - Johnny really, really doesn't like cigarettes. Ghost didn't know.

Choice by achievement_hunteresss - Shepherd captures the 141. He offers them a deal. He will let the other person go unharmed, if you shoot yourself in front of them.

tags by achievement_hunteresss - Soap asks for help with detangling his dogtags. Ghost accidentally unburies Simon.

Precipice by Islenthatur - Soap dies and has to choose (dw it's surprisingly not mcd)

Coven (Scheherazade) by basgijr - Ghost can't sway an overwhelming feeling that something isn't right. Soap is a werewolf that stinks of wet dog and also love (Ghost is a vampire). [this one I found from a Tumblr post that I lost]

sullen by rottin - Sparring goes a little wrong.

Lessen the Load by Hammy1o1 - Price had to talk Ghost down from suicide a few times. Things change when Soap joins the taskforce. [obviously TW for suicide]

Aaaand that's all of them! And my god there's a lot. Next post I'm considering giving a list of writers I like (aka have a lot of fics that I like so I save their name instead of individual fics), which will be one post since there's not too many. After that we can finally get to the longer fics!

#fic recs #call of duty modern warfare 2 #ghostsoap #ghoap #not art #cod ghost #cod soap #I didn't count how many I wrote down here I just kept going till it was done #took me an hour and a half to write it all down rip #but hey this way there's no chance I'm losing those fics lmao #as always if links dont work you can let me know and ill fix them!

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stevethehairington · 1 year

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He needs a break. A chance to breathe for a moment. This lifestyle sometimes feels like the corsets that Robin is always complaining about — too tight, too constricting, and superfluously unnecessary. Steve pities Robin, and the rest of the poor women, who have to deal with both. The circumstance and the corsets.

Steve knows better than to complain, though. He lives a lavish existence, one that many people would give anything to have. It isn’t fair of him to pity himself like this when there are so many people out there that are so much worse off than him. He should feel grateful. Lucky, even.

But it’s hard not to feel suffocated instead, sometimes.

The alcove is quiet, thank god, and void of any stray party guests. It’s hidden away, tucked between two rocks that overlook the seaside, and the crash of waves from down below has a mollifying effect on Steve’s agitated disposition.

He reaches for the cravat at his neck, loosening it with deft fingers. He’s in the act of tugging it away from his throat when the clear crunch of a footstep has him spinning around sharply.

And there, emerging from the shadows to block Steve’s only escape route, is a man.

The first thing Steve notices about the man is the curtain of dark curls that frame his face. They’re long enough to tumble freely over his shoulders, and they’re pulled back by a thick swath of fabric, deep red in color. The ends of his bangs peek out from beneath the bandana, as do a pair of thin braids, each tied off with two hollowed out pearls.

With his hair out of his face, Steve can see it all. Every single feature, open and on display — those soft cheekbones, that sloping nose, the gnarled scar that stretches across the left side of his jaw and pulls the corner of his mouth into a twisted, permanent smile.

Steve is sure that he’s never seen this man before, and yet there is something achingly familiar about him. A tugging within his gut; it feels like he should know him, but from what, he can’t quite place.

The man’s left ear is pierced through twice, two identical gold hoops looped through the skin. And just beneath his ear he has a small mark. A tattoo. Steve isn’t quite close enough to make out just what it’s of. He squints his eyes and nearly takes a step closer to take a proper look, but catches himself before he does.

It’s then that Steve realizes that he’s been staring, borderline ogling, for much longer than is appropriate, too. His cheeks warm as he averts his eyes to the ground. But rather than the cobblestone path below, his gaze falls to the man’s feet.

Flared brown boots cover those feet, rising up nearly to his knees. They’re old looking, worn and well-purposed, but still sturdy, even after countless strops though mud and water and sand and all sorts of other rough terrains. Beneath the boots, his stalwart calves and strong thighs are encased in rough-hewn black breeches, tight, yet functional.

Steve’s eyes stray further up, despite his best efforts.

The man wears a thick brown leather belt, layered with a silken red cloth and an even thinner black belt, this one scaled like a dragon, with a shiny gold buckle. It sits around his waist, atop an open black vest that accentuates his slim figure. His blouse beneath is a deep wine red, made from a gauzy looking material that clings to his skin. Steve imagines that if it were to get wet it would be absolutely sinful. The neck of it is rather plunging, too, exposing the man’s collarbones, and the corner of another tattoo on his chest.

And there, above his heart and to the right, in the very center, hangs a pendant — some sort of serpentine creature with wings, gaudy and golden and absolutely eye-catching.

Steve feels a little hot under the collar, taking it all in. He has to look away.

The man makes an amused humming sort of noise. “Like what you see, sweetheart?” He drawls, flicking both eyebrows up at once. A lazy grin unfurls across his full lips, and he practically drapes himself over the rock behind him.

The position puts his whole body even further on display, in an entirely new way this time, and looking away is futile now. Steve’s eyes are heedlessly drawn back to it, raking over every inch. It feels… dangerous, to be looking this much, this long, but he can’t help it.

The man lifts a hand to examine his black varnished nails, an air of boredom to the action. His fingers are adorned with chunky silver rings that glint in the mid-afternoon sunlight. Casually, he pulls a dagger from its hiding place amongst the belts and uses the sharp tip to pick at one of his nails.

Idly, he starts to whistle — a low, warbling tune that has an almost menacing edge to it.

It, too, strikes a chord of remembrance in Steve, and he wracks his brain trying to think of where he’s heard it. And then it hits him.

“You’re a pirate!” He gasps out. It sounds scandalized, when he says it, though, really, he isn’t scandalized at all. He doesn’t find himself very afraid, either, though he knows he should be. Instead, he’s just intrigued.

The man snickers. “Very good, sweetheart,” he commends, tucking the dagger away again. He brushes his knuckles against his shirt. “What gave it away?”

Steve frowns. “What are you doing here? Where’s your ship?”

“What am I doing here?” The man repeats. Laughs this breezy little thing. “I’m meant to be taking you prisoner, actually,” he tells Steve.

“Take me— prisoner?” Steve repeats, shock coloring his tone. He doesn’t know what he’d been expecting, but it certainly wasn’t that.

“Oh, yes,” the man replies, pushing himself off of the rock. He starts to circle Steve. “I’m meant to be snatching you up— well, that’s the interpretation of it, anyways. All they said was that I needed to deal with you, and, really, that’s so vague.”

He starts to circle Steve, slinking around him slowly, purposefully. His voice carries as he does. “Pirates are supposed to be unscrupulous, though, aren’t they? What with all the threatening and the stealing and the killing and the like. I figured it only makes sense that I take you.”

Steve has a million questions — like who the hell is they? And what do they want with him? And why did they send a pirate to do their dirty work?

Instead, what comes out is, “I guess that would make sense.”

He folds his arms over his chest, just for something to do with them, and then a thought surfaces to the forefront of his brain.

A crease forms between his eyebrows, and his lower lip pushes out into a contemplative pout as he mulls it over. “But what if—” he starts. Pauses. Cuts himself off like he won’t dare finish the thought.

Only it’s too enticing, too tempting not to.

“What if you didn’t take me?”

The man comes to a stop right in front of Steve. He’s close, much closer than anyone would normally be comfortable with, but Steve doesn’t care. If anything, he has to refrain from curling his fingers into that necklace and using it to leverage him even closer.

Steve looks into the man’s dark eyes. Big, endless, easy to lose himself to. But he doesn’t. He meets them head on, unwavering with his gaze, as if he’s challenging him.

“Sweetheart,” the man starts, dripping with condescension. He raises a hand and flattens it against the rock behind Steve, boxing him in. Another wry chuckle tumbles past his lips. “I don’t think you get it,” he says. “I have an order. I need to follow it.”

Steve just his chin up, defiant. “I don’t think you get it,” he returns, poking the man in the chest, much to his astonishment.

“What if you didn’t take me,” Steve repeats slowly, putting emphasis on his meaning. “But what if I… went with you anyways?”

It takes a moment for the words to properly sink in, but when they do, a slow spreading surprise settles over the man’s face. “Oh,” he says, sounding pleased. His lips curl back into a grin that bares his teeth. “How rebellious of you,” he tuts.

“You say rebellious, I say free-thinking,” Steve replies, brushing him off.

The man’s smirk grows, but he doesn’t accept the proposition. Not yet. Instead, he watches Steve carefully, like he expects his bravado to fall away any second now and for Steve to renege.

But Steve holds his ground. He’s not taking it back. He’s not chickening out. In fact, he’s never been more sure of anything in his life.

He’s going to go with this man.

Finally, the man relents. “If that’s what you want,” he says.

“It is,” Steve replies, without hesitation.

The man gives a firm nod, and without another word, he turns on his heel and starts to briskly walk away.

Steve scrambles to follow him, out through the opening of the rocks and across the open courtyard that leads towards the port. He glances behind him every so often to make sure that he hasn’t been spotted or followed by any of the partygoers. By any of his family.

But each time he looks, there’s no one.

He doesn’t know whether to be disappointed or thrilled by that.

The further he gets from the party, though, the easier it gets to breathe. Like the noose around his neck loosens with each step. That almost makes him want to laugh, considering his choice here would earn him a real one, permanently.

Ships line the port, when they finally make it to the water’s edge. Great big ones, with hulking hulls and dozens of ballooning sails. There are at least four, anchored in the bay, but none of them stick out to Steve as a pirate ship. Not that Steve’s ever actually seen a pirate ship before. He’s only heard tales. Still, he expected that they’d be distinct.

The man approaches one of the ships, and he doesn’t hesitate before tromping up the shoddy wooden gangway and stepping foot onto the polished deck. His hands slide onto his hips and he casts a wide glance around. He takes in a deep breath, then lets it out slowly, his whole body relaxing as he does. Like he’s finally home.

He turns then, back towards Steve and offers out his hand.

Steve looks down at it, then back up at the man.

“I’m Steve,” he says, taking it. The man’s palm is rough against Steve’s, but it’s warm too. It feels nice.

The man laughs. “I know,” he says. “And I’m—”

It’s then that Steve notices it. It’s subtle, in the sense that it’s just the one detail. But that detail itself is anything but. Just past the man’s head, right in the center of the biggest sail, a red devil. Pointed horns protruding from its skull, wicked yellow eyes, razor sharp teeth.

It is unmistakable.

“You’re Eddie Munson,” Steve says, recognition finally hitting. And, jesus christ, he feels so stupid for not realizing sooner. The most notorious pirate in all of the seven seas — how could he have forgotten?

“That I am,” Eddie muses. Then he uses his grip on Steve’s hand to pull him the rest of the way onboard.

It tightens, and he doesn’t let go right away, like maybe he thinks Steve will try and make a run for it now that he knows who he is.

But Steve doesn’t. He stands his ground, holds Eddie’s gaze steady.

Something zings up Steve’s spine as Eddie’s big eyes bore back into his own, and he thinks briefly to himself that whatever he’s gotten himself into here, it’s going to be well worth it. He’s in for the adventure of a lifetime here.

Eddie drops his hand then, and a slow grin, just as devilish as his flag unfurls across his pretty lips. He flourishes one of his own hands out around him.

“Steve Harrington,” he practically purrs. “Welcome to Hellfire.”

#steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #mack writes #macks ficlets #so i wrote this instead of working on any of the fics i actually should be working on rn lol #i listened to voulez vous by abba and my brain went pirates and well. here we are.#funny story also bc a good chunk of the first half of this actually came from something i was going to write for a totally different fandom #but never ended up writing so it just sat collecting dust until today!#10 bucks if you can guess the fandom (and no it is not ofmd or any other actual genuine pirate fandom lol)

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