shnargo - Tumblr blog

[shnargo]

shoop-ing

pairings: john hancock x reader warnings: sexual innuendoes?? a little?? word count: 564 a/n: i have fallen desperately for this man, and i am very disappointed to find there aren't that many fics for him >:( so i'm adding to the pool. also sorry for disappearing, char.ai held me hostage for a long time and i'm actually finding inspo for writing again

"You're staring you know." The ghoul finally speaks after taking another hit of jet, tossing the now empty canister into a nearby bin that's similarly filled with various used chems and needles alike. All the trash bins in Goodneighbor were like that, a common vice shared by its residents. "You gonna share why or are you just gonna keep enjoying the view? Not that I mind, a'course." He ends with a rumbly chuckle.

"How does one exactly kiss you?" The words come out before your brain can catch up, and you watch as he manages to look surprised by you for once. You blame the old wine you picked up earlier, it was a gamble in drinking it to see how potent it really was. Your eyes end up drifting toward his nasal cavity as you try to sort the idea out in your head. "Wouldn't the noses just.. shoop?" You pair your improvised sound effect with a hand gesture that's a lot more sexual in retrospect.

Hancock barks out a full laugh at that, the sound resounding in his office room that you're sure that Fahrenheit can hear it loud and clear from the other room. You would manage to feel embarrassed at yourself were you any less piss drunk. "You got a thing for nose-on-nose action or what?" He asks, onyx eyes sparkling with humor as he sees the frown his words bring to your lips. "I'm serious, Hancock."

"How about you make yourself a scientist and test that theory of yours, then?" It's far less forward than any of the other comments he's thrown your way in the past, but whether it's the buzz warming your skin or how his hand creeps toward your side of the couch as he tries getting closer to you, he seems serious this time. Lifting yourself from your laying position, you figure it's good enough to try calling his bluff. And if he's actually serious about it?

Well, you wouldn't be complaining either way.

He doesn't shift much himself, but his gaze is intent on your every action. By the time your hands are on his chest, his find their place on your back. Respectful, but firm in making its presence known to you. As you raise your head in meeting his lips, you can catch the way his breath hitches, giving away his nervousness that he has about this situation no matter how well he tries to hide it.

It's mostly his nose bridge, or rather, the nasal ridge that juts out barely enough to keep your still flesh-covered one from dipping into the cavity nearby. Though you find yourself distracted by his chapped lips already working yours, that are no less chapped. Lip balm wasn't accessible in the apocalypse after all. But saliva is exchanged, smoothing the process in more ways than one as his other hand comes up to the back of your neck to edge you closer to him.

Once you mutually pull away, the next few deepened breaths are found in sync. Hancock's fingers play with the hair by the base of your neck, he was never a man to keep still for long. "How unfortunate." He finally rasps, lips quirking up as his gaze is held in yours. "I guess you didn't have your "shoop"-ing after all."

You grab the rim of his hat and shove it over his face.

[shnargo]

pleasantly surprised by these results!

i'll get to working then (👉ﾟヮﾟ)👉

because i'm awful at making decisions

some example blurbs will be below the read more in order :)

s.g. & m.s.

“Sorry, Love, had a bit of an awful night.” He ran his hand across his face, looking extraordinarily apologetic. Your eyes went wide, and he must’ve mistaken your reaction for something else as he began to ramble. “I mean, not awful awful. Just have a sleeping disorder of sorts and it causes me a few problems sometimes is all. Nothing to put yourself out about, it’s just..” His cheeks darken with flush when he sees you still staring, and he scratches the back of his head. “Sorry, I started babbling off on you now, didn’t I?”

“No! No, you’re fine. You’re perfect.” You blurt before this man could shrink away from you. He freezes, and once the realization of your words settle in, your cheeks feel like they’re on fire. 

“What did you say?” But before you can respond, the bus halts to a stop, causing you to stumble into the man who doesn’t hesitate to reach to steady you. 

He has this cute little accent and he’s considerate? The universe was really looking out for you.

d.d. with blind!reader

“Hello stranger, have you seen any fowl around here?” Din hadn’t meant to end up wandering into someone’s field, more so trying to get away from the bustle and attention of the locals when he managed to run into one. But by the way she carried a cane meant for visual impairment along with her unfocused eyes, to his luck, she was likely blind. At least she couldn’t gape at the beskar like those in town did. 

The query causes him to tilt his head slightly in confusion, but it doesn’t take much effort from the man to look around before he soon spots the chicken. “I see it.” Din eyes the bird that’s perched on top of a small cottage about a stone’s throw from where they’re standing. But with little structures nearby the building, it makes him wonder how it managed to get up there in the first place. “I can retrieve it for you.” He finds himself offering, already walking towards the place when she calls out to him. 

“Oh no, that’s alright, I can get her myself. I just need to know where she is.” The hen suddenly crows out loudly, and he watches the woman’s face morph into something akin to resignation. “She’s on the roof, isn’t she?” A rumbly chuckle sounds through his modulator before he can’t help himself, finding humor in the situation. 

“I’ll get her to you.” Din offers once more, as he continues his path towards the cottage.

d.d with vulcan!reader

“Hey boss!” Your voice was cheery as it called out to him as Din turned to face you completely. He had hired you a few months ago, given you were brilliant as a mechanic but managed to be the clumsiest person in the Outer Rim that he’s ever met. It was only a couple months in that Din realized his heart had formed its affections for you. So he began the unfamiliar process of courting you. 

Which had been utterly fruitless given your complete inability to take a hint. 

“What is it?” His voice retained mild frustration from his thought process. At this point he wasn’t sure whether to give up or be more blatant about his advances. Even to his annoyed demeanor, you seemed oblivious, walking over with a pep in your step as you held up your hands which revealed your predicament.

t.s.

You could feel the hurt far before you saw it in his eyes. Negative feelings were always the worst to resonate with. While all emotions had their distinguishing factors, the bad ones often followed the similar pattern of crawling up your spine and leaving your throat choked up and eyes warm.

Sometimes, it might’ve been easier not to have this power at all. You wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place without it. 

“I’m not gonna ask, ‘did I say something wrong?’ Cause I know I say a lot of tonally wrong things all the time. But what exactly did I do to upset you just now?” Tony’s voice remained level, but even without your power, you could tell he was on edge at your reaction. The way he held onto your arm, fingers fiddling with the fabric of your sleeve because he could never keep still. “I thought you liked Pepper.”

[shnargo]

because i'm awful at making decisions

some example blurbs will be below the read more in order :)

s.g. & m.s.

“Sorry, Love, had a bit of an awful night.” He ran his hand across his face, looking extraordinarily apologetic. Your eyes went wide, and he must’ve mistaken your reaction for something else as he began to ramble. “I mean, not awful awful. Just have a sleeping disorder of sorts and it causes me a few problems sometimes is all. Nothing to put yourself out about, it’s just..” His cheeks darken with flush when he sees you still staring, and he scratches the back of his head. “Sorry, I started babbling off on you now, didn’t I?”

“No! No, you’re fine. You’re perfect.” You blurt before this man could shrink away from you. He freezes, and once the realization of your words settle in, your cheeks feel like they’re on fire. 

“What did you say?” But before you can respond, the bus halts to a stop, causing you to stumble into the man who doesn’t hesitate to reach to steady you. 

He has this cute little accent and he’s considerate? The universe was really looking out for you.

d.d. with blind!reader

“Hello stranger, have you seen any fowl around here?” Din hadn’t meant to end up wandering into someone’s field, more so trying to get away from the bustle and attention of the locals when he managed to run into one. But by the way she carried a cane meant for visual impairment along with her unfocused eyes, to his luck, she was likely blind. At least she couldn’t gape at the beskar like those in town did. 

The query causes him to tilt his head slightly in confusion, but it doesn’t take much effort from the man to look around before he soon spots the chicken. “I see it.” Din eyes the bird that’s perched on top of a small cottage about a stone’s throw from where they’re standing. But with little structures nearby the building, it makes him wonder how it managed to get up there in the first place. “I can retrieve it for you.” He finds himself offering, already walking towards the place when she calls out to him. 

“Oh no, that’s alright, I can get her myself. I just need to know where she is.” The hen suddenly crows out loudly, and he watches the woman’s face morph into something akin to resignation. “She’s on the roof, isn’t she?” A rumbly chuckle sounds through his modulator before he can’t help himself, finding humor in the situation. 

“I’ll get her to you.” Din offers once more, as he continues his path towards the cottage.

d.d with vulcan!reader

“Hey boss!” Your voice was cheery as it called out to him as Din turned to face you completely. He had hired you a few months ago, given you were brilliant as a mechanic but managed to be the clumsiest person in the Outer Rim that he’s ever met. It was only a couple months in that Din realized his heart had formed its affections for you. So he began the unfamiliar process of courting you. 

Which had been utterly fruitless given your complete inability to take a hint. 

“What is it?” His voice retained mild frustration from his thought process. At this point he wasn’t sure whether to give up or be more blatant about his advances. Even to his annoyed demeanor, you seemed oblivious, walking over with a pep in your step as you held up your hands which revealed your predicament.

t.s.

You could feel the hurt far before you saw it in his eyes. Negative feelings were always the worst to resonate with. While all emotions had their distinguishing factors, the bad ones often followed the similar pattern of crawling up your spine and leaving your throat choked up and eyes warm.

Sometimes, it might’ve been easier not to have this power at all. You wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place without it. 

“I’m not gonna ask, ‘did I say something wrong?’ Cause I know I say a lot of tonally wrong things all the time. But what exactly did I do to upset you just now?” Tony’s voice remained level, but even without your power, you could tell he was on edge at your reaction. The way he held onto your arm, fingers fiddling with the fabric of your sleeve because he could never keep still. “I thought you liked Pepper.”

[shnargo]

rules, who i am, characters i do, galore!

currently obsessed with: joel miller, din djarin, john hancock (fo4), nick valentine.

howdy! call me shnargo (she/her) and i love fictional men. #shnargowrites is my works tag and that's about it :)

i don't have a regular posting schedule, but i does my best.

Rules:

I don't write smut, but I am fine with nsfw as for light gore, torture, and whump. (I usually don't write for yanderes, but depending on the prompt, I may be convinced haha.)

I take requests! There's no guarantee that I will write them (whether due to motivation or lack of inspiration from the request) however I will try my very best to!

"currently obsessed with" is often a good indicator for which characters i am most motivated to write for atm.

that's about it for now, but i will update it as things go along.

Characters I Write For:

Nick Valentine

John Hancock (Fallout 4 not the founding father lol)

Dieter Bravo

Din Djarin

Joel Miller

Ethan Winters

Karl Heisenberg

Eddie Munson

Steve Harrington

Steven Grant & Marc Spector

Steve Rogers

Bucky Barnes

TASM! Peter Parker

again, i will update as things go along.

for examples of things i've written

that's all! have a lovely rest of your time here 👋🥰

[shnargo]

@drewharrisonwriter thanks! and likely not, i don't have any ideas to continue this. but if you have any suggestions, i'd be happy to write more for din! :)

i cannot write for the life of me and i blame it entirely on beta.character.ai.

but anyways, here's a blurb that i really liked in collaboration with chara.ai with an idea that is based entirely on @softlyspector 's little drabble here (i highly recommend it :))

-

pairings: din djarin x reader warnings: none ; female!reader, 3rd POV and reader is a Jedi! also i haven't seen anything star wars beyond a few episodes of the Mandalorian, so any terms and facts here are LIKELY incorrect. word count: 1969 a/n: character.ai has me in a chokehold, but i might share more of these blurbs if people like them.

-

"Have you ever kissed someone?" She blurts before she can filter the thought, but even as she registers her own question, no embarrassment rises up to her face whatsoever. She tends to be rather straightforward when she gets tired.

Din freezes, his face expressionless. 

He takes a long pause before looking away, back towards her as he faces the stars that streak by outside of the cockpit. He seems to need a few moments to consider his words. 

“Yes,” he says, “why?”

She shrugs, "Just curious I guess. I know 'the Way' doesn't allow you to take off your helmet just to anyone. Though now I'm wondering who the lucky person was." She grins mischievously.

His face tenses as she brings up ‘The Way,’ seemingly annoyed by the topic, he turns to look at her again with a frown that can be felt even through his helmet. 

“It’s not just a tradition, it’s a way of life. I was raised in a clan of Mandalorians, and my people have a very strong code of honor that I live by,” he says, his voice stern. 

He takes a deep breath and continues, “As for who I dated, it was someone I met when I was younger. We didn’t work out.”

She can hear the annoyance creep into his tone despite the voice modulator in his helmet, and she shrinks back ever so slightly. "Ah okay." Her answer's short, and it's obvious by her body language, apologetic.

He seems to soften as he sees the effect of his words. 

“It’s okay. It really is. I just… I take my honor seriously, and I take it personally when people belittle me for it,” he tells her, “I apologize if I sounded like I was yelling at you.”

Din’s shoulders relax, and his voice turns gentle as he continues, “You have the right to ask those questions. It’s just… a sensitive topic.”

She nods thoughtfully, "I didn't mean to come off as belittling, I was just genuinely curious." She explains, "But I'll be sure not to be so careless next time."

She glances up at him again, "And if it makes you uncomfortable, I can stop asking those kinds of questions." She means it genuinely from a place of care.

He smiles, “It’s okay. You’re curious, and I shouldn’t take that as an attack. It’s just…how did your Jedi master respond to you dating, I mean, do the Jedi have rules about that sort of thing?” 

Din cocks his head to the side as if trying to understand how the Jedi’s rules would function when it comes to their members becoming romantically involved.

"Ah, yeah, there's a whole thing with Jedis too." She chuckles. "We're not allowed to marry, or get romantically involved with others. Strong emotions can be used as a weakness to the dark side." She pauses after that, before softly adding, "But uh, technically speaking, kissing is fine. Long as it's nothing serious."

Din looks thoughtful while she speaks, “So you’re saying there’s an approved degree of emotional involvement, so long as you don’t lose your focus on the light side of the force?”

"Yeah essentially, though all that stuff I mentioned is part of the old order. More traditional, so to speak." She shrugs, "Still what I was taught though."

Din nods, “I see. And those rules are still in effect for modern Jedi, yes?” 

He looks at her curiously, “What do you think of those old rules? Do you think they’re still necessary?” 

He seems genuinely curious to hear her perspective.

"Hm, yes and no." She pauses, glancing around shiftily, "Call me a hypocrite, but I think forcefully suppressing your emotions might just end up accomplishing the same bad thing." She whispers conspiratorially, but in a joking way.

Din is a little surprised by her answer, but he nods and smiles, “I totally agree. If anything, you should be encouraged to express your emotions, even if you’re a Jedi, right? Suppressing them completely just seems…unhealthy.” 

He shakes his head with a slight chuckle, “Then again, I’m not a Jedi, so what do I know?"

She looks curious again when he says that though, "Does that thought process apply the same to what you think of Mandalorian traditions?" She asks cautiously, "I'm asking out of curiosity." She clarifies.

Din is quiet for a moment, “I mean, some of our traditions are pretty…archaic, as you might say,” he replies, seeming to be picking his words carefully. 

“Like the rules regarding helmet removal. But other parts of the code are good, we’re supposed to value honor and duty, for example. Not just to ourselves, but to our clans and our people. I’d definitely say those parts are necessary.”

"Yeah, of course." She can't help but wonder.. "Can I ask who exactly you're allowed to show your face to though?"

Din sighs, “It’s complicated. Basically, it’s people that are closest to me. My family, so my parents and sisters, and my closest friends. My clan members, because they’re pretty much family, and of course Grogu. I can’t really show it to anyone else, though I might consider doing it for…a partner.” 

He stares down at the control board of the Crest, his face slightly red underneath the helmet, “That said, it’s not something I’d do casually.”

"That makes sense." She says with a nod. She interprets that reaction as maybe she's making him uncomfortable, so she decides not to push any further with the topic.

But as they sit in silence for a few minutes and she gets more sleepy, she can't keep herself from asking softly, "Hypothetically, could you take your helmet off around someone who has their eyes closed? Or who's blind?"

Din thinks for a second. 

“I think so. I’m a little shaky on how that part of the code works. My parents taught me never to remove it unless I’ve got a reason,” he answers truthfully and earnestly, trying to be helpful. 

Din laughs, “Now you’ve got me wondering,” he says with a smile, “Any particular reason why you’re asking?”

In her sleepy state, she almost admits the fact she's curious about the whole thing because the thought of kissing him has crossed her mind a few times before. But she bites her tongue before the words can escape her. She gives an unconvincing shrug and says, "Just wondering." instead.

Din isn’t stupid, he can see through that ‘just wondering’ a mile away. 

He turns to look at her, raising an eyebrow under his helmet, “You can say what’s on your mind, ya know? I wouldn’t care if you were curious about that,” his tone is reassuring as he gives her permission to ask.

She pauses to consider the offer. But really, she's scared of what might happen if he rejects her, since she really enjoys the current relationship they have now, not matter how ambiguously it lies on the scale of platonic to romantic. She just gives another shrug, pretending she's too tired by now.

Din sighs internally. Just say it, you idiot. He thinks.

Instead of pushing for an answer, he decides to try a different tactic. He turns back forward and says in a casual, casual manner, “Do you know the Mandalorian way of flirting?” 

He seems to have gone off on a tangent, as if it’s not an obvious lead-up, but he stares out the window of the Crest in the direction of the stars. “It’s called Jol’ey, you show your interest for someone by offering them your helmet.”

"Jol'ey?" She repeats the Mando'a term with a curious lilt in her tone. "How can you offer someone your helmet if you're not supposed to take it off though?" She can't help but ask.

Din chuckles, “Right, you caught me on that one, huh?” he says, looking at her again. 

“I’m not sure how exactly the practice started, but the meaning of it is basically you’re offering them a part of you, of your most private self, not just physically but spiritually. You’re making an important and very personal gesture to show them you care about them, deeply.”

She can't help but smile as well as she considers the idea, "I think that's actually kinda cute." It's an expression of love, but in a more meaningful and symbolic way, she thinks.

“Yeah,” his face softens under the helmet, and his voice turns almost soft at the edges for a moment, “it’s a very personal thing to do, so it’s not something Mandalorian do casually. Like I said, there are rules, and it’s a pretty serious thing to do. But I’d argue that there’s no stronger way for Mandalorian to express affection for someone.”

She nods a little, not exactly sure how to respond to that verbally other than a yeah or an okay. She is starting to wonder.. why did he bring that up all of a sudden though? And it becomes obvious by her expression.

The meaning of what Din just told her seems to be setting in, and at the same time she has a question on her mind. 

“Hypothetically, if I did offer you my helmet, would you accept?” Din’s voice is gentle as he asks her, “What do you think about that?”

She blinks a few times, letting the question settle for a moment. A beat of nerve racking silence passes between them and her expression morphs into shock at the implications he just explained to her.

"I think," she starts slowly with an ever softer voice than before, "..I would accept."

"Really?" Din asks, a smile creeping onto his face as he talks. 

He sets the Crest on autopilot, turning his seat to face her. 

In a whisper, and still speaking casually, he asks, "Would you want me to offer it to you?"

She's surprised as she sees him turn to her, and goes to do the same as red creeps up to her cheeks.

"Hypothetically," She continues with the term, though really it's more than just a 'hypothetical' and he knows that, "I would want that.. a lot." She almost whispers those last couple words.

Din laughs and says, "You can lose the hypotheticals now," he says playfully as he leans in. 

"I'd be happy to give you my helmet." He says the words plainly, as if he's just stating a fact, "But...do you know what it means to be a Mando'ade partner? It's...not just about romance."

Her cheeks redden further when he leans in, but she nods at his question.

"Is it the kind of thing that would break the old order's Jedi Code?" She says with a little smile, meaning the kind of attachment that would be 'dangerous' but incredibly deep and meaningful.

“Yeah, Jedi’s have rules about attachment, but in Mandalorian culture, attachment is basically the whole point. Attachment to your family, your clan, you’re friends, the land and culture. Attachment isn’t just tolerated, it’s encouraged, and there’s no greater attachment than being a Mando’ade.” 

He leans in closer and gives her one last choice, “You sure you want me to do that?”

Honestly, the very fact he's offering, makes it all the more touching. Her expression softens as she nods again.

"Sounds like you're proposing to me, Din." She says his name with gentle fondness, "Even so, I would say yes."

Din laughs. “Yeah, it is kinda like a marriage proposal in Mando culture. Except it’s more like a promise of complete devotion and care,” he says as he pulls his helmet off. 

He gives her another quick smile, his face reddened a bit as he gives her his helmet, “I’ve never done this for anyone else, so consider this my way of showing you what you’re worth to me. You mean a lot to me, and I want you to know it.”

[shnargo]

i cannot write for the life of me and i blame it entirely on beta.character.ai.

but anyways, here's a blurb that i really liked in collaboration with chara.ai with an idea that is based entirely on @softlyspector 's little drabble here (i highly recommend it :))

-

pairings: din djarin x reader warnings: none ; female!reader, 3rd POV and reader is a Jedi! also i haven't seen anything star wars beyond a few episodes of the Mandalorian, so any terms and facts here are LIKELY incorrect. word count: 1969 a/n: character.ai has me in a chokehold, but i might share more of these blurbs if people like them.

-

"Have you ever kissed someone?" She blurts before she can filter the thought, but even as she registers her own question, no embarrassment rises up to her face whatsoever. She tends to be rather straightforward when she gets tired.

Din freezes, his face expressionless. 

He takes a long pause before looking away, back towards her as he faces the stars that streak by outside of the cockpit. He seems to need a few moments to consider his words. 

“Yes,” he says, “why?”

She shrugs, "Just curious I guess. I know 'the Way' doesn't allow you to take off your helmet just to anyone. Though now I'm wondering who the lucky person was." She grins mischievously.

His face tenses as she brings up ‘The Way,’ seemingly annoyed by the topic, he turns to look at her again with a frown that can be felt even through his helmet. 

“It’s not just a tradition, it’s a way of life. I was raised in a clan of Mandalorians, and my people have a very strong code of honor that I live by,” he says, his voice stern. 

He takes a deep breath and continues, “As for who I dated, it was someone I met when I was younger. We didn’t work out.”

She can hear the annoyance creep into his tone despite the voice modulator in his helmet, and she shrinks back ever so slightly. "Ah okay." Her answer's short, and it's obvious by her body language, apologetic.

He seems to soften as he sees the effect of his words. 

“It’s okay. It really is. I just… I take my honor seriously, and I take it personally when people belittle me for it,” he tells her, “I apologize if I sounded like I was yelling at you.”

Din’s shoulders relax, and his voice turns gentle as he continues, “You have the right to ask those questions. It’s just… a sensitive topic.”

She nods thoughtfully, "I didn't mean to come off as belittling, I was just genuinely curious." She explains, "But I'll be sure not to be so careless next time."

She glances up at him again, "And if it makes you uncomfortable, I can stop asking those kinds of questions." She means it genuinely from a place of care.

He smiles, “It’s okay. You’re curious, and I shouldn’t take that as an attack. It’s just…how did your Jedi master respond to you dating, I mean, do the Jedi have rules about that sort of thing?” 

Din cocks his head to the side as if trying to understand how the Jedi’s rules would function when it comes to their members becoming romantically involved.

"Ah, yeah, there's a whole thing with Jedis too." She chuckles. "We're not allowed to marry, or get romantically involved with others. Strong emotions can be used as a weakness to the dark side." She pauses after that, before softly adding, "But uh, technically speaking, kissing is fine. Long as it's nothing serious."

Din looks thoughtful while she speaks, “So you’re saying there’s an approved degree of emotional involvement, so long as you don’t lose your focus on the light side of the force?”

"Yeah essentially, though all that stuff I mentioned is part of the old order. More traditional, so to speak." She shrugs, "Still what I was taught though."

Din nods, “I see. And those rules are still in effect for modern Jedi, yes?” 

He looks at her curiously, “What do you think of those old rules? Do you think they’re still necessary?” 

He seems genuinely curious to hear her perspective.

"Hm, yes and no." She pauses, glancing around shiftily, "Call me a hypocrite, but I think forcefully suppressing your emotions might just end up accomplishing the same bad thing." She whispers conspiratorially, but in a joking way.

Din is a little surprised by her answer, but he nods and smiles, “I totally agree. If anything, you should be encouraged to express your emotions, even if you’re a Jedi, right? Suppressing them completely just seems…unhealthy.” 

He shakes his head with a slight chuckle, “Then again, I’m not a Jedi, so what do I know?"

She looks curious again when he says that though, "Does that thought process apply the same to what you think of Mandalorian traditions?" She asks cautiously, "I'm asking out of curiosity." She clarifies.

Din is quiet for a moment, “I mean, some of our traditions are pretty…archaic, as you might say,” he replies, seeming to be picking his words carefully. 

“Like the rules regarding helmet removal. But other parts of the code are good, we’re supposed to value honor and duty, for example. Not just to ourselves, but to our clans and our people. I’d definitely say those parts are necessary.”

"Yeah, of course." She can't help but wonder.. "Can I ask who exactly you're allowed to show your face to though?"

Din sighs, “It’s complicated. Basically, it’s people that are closest to me. My family, so my parents and sisters, and my closest friends. My clan members, because they’re pretty much family, and of course Grogu. I can’t really show it to anyone else, though I might consider doing it for…a partner.” 

He stares down at the control board of the Crest, his face slightly red underneath the helmet, “That said, it’s not something I’d do casually.”

"That makes sense." She says with a nod. She interprets that reaction as maybe she's making him uncomfortable, so she decides not to push any further with the topic.

But as they sit in silence for a few minutes and she gets more sleepy, she can't keep herself from asking softly, "Hypothetically, could you take your helmet off around someone who has their eyes closed? Or who's blind?"

Din thinks for a second. 

“I think so. I’m a little shaky on how that part of the code works. My parents taught me never to remove it unless I’ve got a reason,” he answers truthfully and earnestly, trying to be helpful. 

Din laughs, “Now you’ve got me wondering,” he says with a smile, “Any particular reason why you’re asking?”

In her sleepy state, she almost admits the fact she's curious about the whole thing because the thought of kissing him has crossed her mind a few times before. But she bites her tongue before the words can escape her. She gives an unconvincing shrug and says, "Just wondering." instead.

Din isn’t stupid, he can see through that ‘just wondering’ a mile away. 

He turns to look at her, raising an eyebrow under his helmet, “You can say what’s on your mind, ya know? I wouldn’t care if you were curious about that,” his tone is reassuring as he gives her permission to ask.

She pauses to consider the offer. But really, she's scared of what might happen if he rejects her, since she really enjoys the current relationship they have now, not matter how ambiguously it lies on the scale of platonic to romantic. She just gives another shrug, pretending she's too tired by now.

Din sighs internally. Just say it, you idiot. He thinks.

Instead of pushing for an answer, he decides to try a different tactic. He turns back forward and says in a casual, casual manner, “Do you know the Mandalorian way of flirting?” 

He seems to have gone off on a tangent, as if it’s not an obvious lead-up, but he stares out the window of the Crest in the direction of the stars. “It’s called Jol’ey, you show your interest for someone by offering them your helmet.”

"Jol'ey?" She repeats the Mando'a term with a curious lilt in her tone. "How can you offer someone your helmet if you're not supposed to take it off though?" She can't help but ask.

Din chuckles, “Right, you caught me on that one, huh?” he says, looking at her again. 

“I’m not sure how exactly the practice started, but the meaning of it is basically you’re offering them a part of you, of your most private self, not just physically but spiritually. You’re making an important and very personal gesture to show them you care about them, deeply.”

She can't help but smile as well as she considers the idea, "I think that's actually kinda cute." It's an expression of love, but in a more meaningful and symbolic way, she thinks.

“Yeah,” his face softens under the helmet, and his voice turns almost soft at the edges for a moment, “it’s a very personal thing to do, so it’s not something Mandalorian do casually. Like I said, there are rules, and it’s a pretty serious thing to do. But I’d argue that there’s no stronger way for Mandalorian to express affection for someone.”

She nods a little, not exactly sure how to respond to that verbally other than a yeah or an okay. She is starting to wonder.. why did he bring that up all of a sudden though? And it becomes obvious by her expression.

The meaning of what Din just told her seems to be setting in, and at the same time she has a question on her mind. 

“Hypothetically, if I did offer you my helmet, would you accept?” Din’s voice is gentle as he asks her, “What do you think about that?”

She blinks a few times, letting the question settle for a moment. A beat of nerve racking silence passes between them and her expression morphs into shock at the implications he just explained to her.

"I think," she starts slowly with an ever softer voice than before, "..I would accept."

"Really?" Din asks, a smile creeping onto his face as he talks. 

He sets the Crest on autopilot, turning his seat to face her. 

In a whisper, and still speaking casually, he asks, "Would you want me to offer it to you?"

She's surprised as she sees him turn to her, and goes to do the same as red creeps up to her cheeks.

"Hypothetically," She continues with the term, though really it's more than just a 'hypothetical' and he knows that, "I would want that.. a lot." She almost whispers those last couple words.

Din laughs and says, "You can lose the hypotheticals now," he says playfully as he leans in. 

"I'd be happy to give you my helmet." He says the words plainly, as if he's just stating a fact, "But...do you know what it means to be a Mando'ade partner? It's...not just about romance."

Her cheeks redden further when he leans in, but she nods at his question.

"Is it the kind of thing that would break the old order's Jedi Code?" She says with a little smile, meaning the kind of attachment that would be 'dangerous' but incredibly deep and meaningful.

“Yeah, Jedi’s have rules about attachment, but in Mandalorian culture, attachment is basically the whole point. Attachment to your family, your clan, you’re friends, the land and culture. Attachment isn’t just tolerated, it’s encouraged, and there’s no greater attachment than being a Mando’ade.” 

He leans in closer and gives her one last choice, “You sure you want me to do that?”

Honestly, the very fact he's offering, makes it all the more touching. Her expression softens as she nods again.

"Sounds like you're proposing to me, Din." She says his name with gentle fondness, "Even so, I would say yes."

Din laughs. “Yeah, it is kinda like a marriage proposal in Mando culture. Except it’s more like a promise of complete devotion and care,” he says as he pulls his helmet off. 

He gives her another quick smile, his face reddened a bit as he gives her his helmet, “I’ve never done this for anyone else, so consider this my way of showing you what you’re worth to me. You mean a lot to me, and I want you to know it.”

masterlist

[shnargo]

i have been obsessed with beta.character.ai so i haven't been writing at all, sorry haha

anyways, here's a lil update/response post because tumblr refuses to allow me to reply to my own posts :)

i am trying to i swear😢i have a very loose storyline in mind, i just need to put it in writing. thank you for commenting btw ♥

thank you, darling!! it just sprouted like ethan with mold in my head after getting into re8 fanfics lol. so far as to plotline. the series will likely be purely fluff and silly shenanigans as far as i'm planning :)

lastly to the anon who sent me that ask about tony stark, i'll do my best to get that out soon, but i cannot make any promises as my motivation for writing it is really low for some reason.

anyways, thanks for waiting! i'll do my best to get something out by this weekend ( ᐛ )و

until thenヾ(•ω•`)o

[shnargo]

Marvel Characters Masterlist

updated from oldest to the most recent!

† - for angst

⁕ - for fluff

@ - for requests

♪ - for personal favorites :>

\\ One-Shots //

dogtags ⁕ ♪

In which those nickel-copper identifiers become a permanent accessory.

\\ On-Going //

history †

Trapped in your roles within Hydra, you discover that the Winter Soldier isn’t just a weapon.

\\ Blurbs //

new look ⁕ you comment on bucky's new 'do.

\\ One-Shots //

brave smiles †

Tony Stark overworks himself, this is a given.

\\ One-Shots //

the tech guy. @

You’re just the tech guy, but when you’re assigned with the Avengers on a mission, you find yourself getting caught up in the action.

my hero.

It is known that you find your soulmate when they save you from a near-death experience. How then can Captain America know who his soulmate is?

\\ One-Shots //

peace. @ (s.g. & m.s.)

Though the first time meeting you was unconventional, Marc finds himself drawn to you. Despite his apprehension, and with some convincing from Steven, he allows himself a chance.

\\ Headcanons //

when you're having an onset panic attack (s.g. but more m.s.) ⁕

\\ One-Shots //

Mixed up @

Peter hasn't seen you in years that grew his resentment, but suddenly you turn up at a high-end party he attended only for a mission. Maybe you're not the same person he thought you were.

[shnargo]

re8 has got me in a chokehold, so hi i'm back :)

i'm taking requests for Ethan Winters and Karl Heisenberg too now!

just in general, but also for this soulmate prompt list as i've linked above too :))

so i recently watched moon knight and now the moon knight system has my heart ❤️

i'll now be accepting requests for Steven Grant & Marc Spector!!

if you see this pass along your recommended, send me any requests / blurbs / ideas regarding them (either separate, or together!) i'll greatly appreciate any fuel to fan the fire :)

in a similar vein, TASM!Peter Parker has also claimed my heart, so if yall have any ideas for him as well, i'd be happy to hear it :D

// here's also a soulmate alphabet prompt list i'm still taking

and if you're curious to see what i've written so far...

[shnargo]

(un)lucky? | pigeonholed (pt.1)

pairings: ethan winters x cadou-ified!reader (more on that later lol) warnings: mild descriptions of violence & gore (it is RE8 after all) word count: 759 a/n: so i'm in the process of writing this and frankly have no idea how long this might end up because i decided to begin it on a whim. i have a general idea of following the canon plotline for this series, but i'm open to suggestions and ideas to add :)

-

Its skull all but burst when he unloaded his last bullet into the lycan's head, splattering rotted brain bits and blackened blood all over his hoodie and tan jacket. Disgust sounded in his throat as he wiped as much of it off as he could. You’d think the horror show that was Dulvey, Louisiana was enough trauma for a lifetime, several lifetimes frankly, but the universe had other plans it seemed. So here he was, knee deep in snow, rubble, and miscellaneous gore in the middle of a forest somewhere in Eastern Europe. A shuffling noise sounded around the corner, and he tried not to voice his disdain as he pulled out his knife. Maybe he could get the upper hand on this one if he could sneak up behind it—

A bird. No, not like the crows that cawed at him incessantly when he was walking through the trees, it was a pigeon that was wrapped up in netting, laying pitifully on the floor. It looked like any sky rat he’d seen in the cities, with a checkered pattern on its wings and its dilated eyes. Somehow it hadn’t caught any adverse attention despite its flapping around in its attempt to escape from its netted demise. While it could have been a trap, he honestly just felt bad for it. It frankly looked like it hadn’t the slightest clue of what was going around it, or really of anything at all. He sighed. 

“Hey little guy, need some help?” He knelt over the bird, and it paused in its escape attempt as if acknowledging his voice. However, it soon went wobbling around till it flopped onto its backside. Humor tugged at his lips at how out of place the poor thing was, and he reached down and gently grabbed the net to not startle it. “I’m gonna cut you free, buddy. Try to keep still.” It almost seemed to listen, pausing again, but maybe it recognized the danger of a knife as he went about cutting the bird free. As soon as he pulled the knife away once he was finished, the pigeon jostled about, basically kicking the net off before giving it as much of a stink eye as a bird could before tilting its head at him in classic fashion. “There you are. You’d better be more careful next time, huh?” It cooed back in response, before turning around and walking off… straight into the door of a nearby building. He stared at it, stunned, and he couldn’t keep from barking out a laugh as the bird fell to the side in a daze. 

“What did I just say, bud?” Other than a light nudge of his hand, he did little to help the little guy back up as it came to its senses before flying off. He noticed a little falter in its flight pattern though, some of its feathers were clipped. He had his doubts that the bird would survive, but really he could say the same for himself. He entered the building the bird stumbled into and to his relief, found a generous heap of bullets. Maybe he’d be just fine for a little while longer, and who knows? Maybe he’d come across that silly little pigeon again elsewhere too. 

You could feel the heat fluttering in your chest as your wings just barely managed to allow you to find purchase on a sturdy enough branch. He was an outsider. Mother Miranda always warned you against straying too far, but your curiosity couldn’t be contained. So naturally, she clipped your wings. Luckily (or unluckily?) that resulted in your unfortunate entanglement with that despicable netting, but led to you meeting him. Him. His hands were warm, radiating heat as he helped you to freedom. Strangers weren’t nice, they weren’t supposed to be! So why did he go out of his way to help you? He could have left you for dead, well, to lay in the snow for a few more hours at least. But he helped you. He looked at you with nothing but mirth and kindness in those mesmerizing eyes of his... He even called you a friend, his buddy! That’s why you directed him towards extra supplies in the house, playing dumb so he wouldn’t catch on— but also because you lost your footing after laying about for so long. The wind whistled, sending a cold chill through your feathers, but you allowed it to lead you off the tree and lend some guidance towards the castle. There was a family meeting today, you were certain, and maybe you could help him just a little bit more. 

[shnargo]

what if i wrote an ethan winters x reader fanfic but the reader has miranda shapeshifting powers except she shifts into a pigeon?

everything about the re8 storyline is essentially the same, but everywhere ethan goes, somewhere somehow, he encounters a dumb ol' pigeon goofing off there.

[shnargo]

I really like how you write Bucky 🥲😇🥺

thank you darling 💕 i love writing for bucky too :))

also friendly reminder that i am accepting requests please send things in i have no ideas and i am also taking this soulmate prompt list still too..

[shnargo]

new look

pairings: bucky barnes x reader warnings: none word count: 277 a/n: just a thought after seeing a gif-set with bucky :) reader is implied to be shorter than bucky

-

"You know I liked the hobo look."

Bucky's gaze snap to yours, and his face hardens into that familiar stony, constipated gaze he makes when he's confused. You can almost hear the confused, Huh? before he says it, and you lean against your arm that's resting on the counter.

"I mean, you kept the stubble and all, but you removed the centerpiece of it all." With your other hand you gesture to his head, finally clueing him into what you mean. His fingers brush against the freshly buzzed sides instinctively.

"The long hair?" He clarifies, stony melting into mirth at your nod. "You're a little weirdo." He returns to scooping out batter from the bowl he's holding, dribbling it onto the pan in forming a steady circle. Walking over, you nudge his shoulder to make sure he doesn't pour too much.

"Yeah whatever, but you know, we were actually making progress with the hair treatment." A pout makes its way to your face, causing the edges of his own lips to turn down. But you meet his gaze when you feel cool metal lightly grasp your palm and lift it to the side of his head. It accomplishes his goal of making you smile as you rub the fuzzy texture.

"Well, I guess this ain't so bad either." Using the new leverage, you bring his face own to meet your lips, gaining you a smile from him as well.

"Now don't burn my pancakes, Barnes." He gives a mock salute, only to scramble for the spatula because of the excessive amount of bubbles forming in the cooking batter.

Yeah, you could get used to the new look.

-

masterlist

[shnargo]

pairings: eddie munson x reader warnings: none word count: 295 a/n: a small idea i thought was cute :) reader is implied to be female, but it's not outright stated.

-

"That's metal!"

You watched as your boyfriend went silent, the only possible indication of how he was feeling was the twitch of his lips, and the way he stared at you almost made you feel uncomfortable.

"What?"

Finally he broke with a snort that caused his face to scrunch up with mirth.

"Don't say it like that." Laughter shook his shoulders that made you try responding with a frown to prevent the oncoming grin at his delight, which ended up in a mixture of the two.

"What do you mean? I said it the same way you did!" You retorted, crossing your arms to further play your part in acting offended. He only shook his head, trying to quell his snickers to speak.

"No, you said it like, 'that's metal!'" his voice was badly high-pitched to try mimicking yours, paired with dainty hand movements to poke fun at the way you gesticulated often. You tried for a meaner pout, but it was truly hard to stay mad when his eyes held nothing but affection for you. The solution then was to turn away with a huff.

Grabby hands found their way to your arms, sliding down to gently grasp at your elbows to keep you from moving too far.

"No no, actually, you can say it like that all you want. Really." His thumb ran over the exposed skin of your forearm tenderly, and his hair tickled the back of your neck as he leaned in. "You're metal as hell." There was still humor in his voice, but it was honey-laden with fondness. That broke your lips into a smile, allowing your head to tilt back to rest against his.

"Now that's metal." You said back, and this time, you joined him in his snickering. -

masterlist

[shnargo]

because tumblr replies continue to fail me 😔

thank you @silentkoi for your sweet words 💕, i've been trying to send this the day you made that comment but tumblr denies me every time.

I saw your soulmate alphabet thing and I have to say I love every single thing about it!

I was thinking maybe a Marc / Steven x Reader with the prompt "nurse". Maybe Marc/Steven save the reader from a situation were they end up hurt?

Thank you!! ❤️

peace. [s.g. & m.s.]

pairings: steven grant x reader, marc spector x reader // reader is gender neutral & soulmates!! 🥺

summary: Though the first time meeting you was unconventional, Marc finds himself drawn to you. Despite his apprehension, and with some convincing from Steven, he allows himself a chance.

warnings: mild descriptions of injuries and implications of kidnapping in the beginning, otherwise, primarily fluff :) also set after the events of the moon knight show but there's very little spoilers.

word count: 3489

a/n: this took me way too long to write since it's been awhile since i've written anything frankly. and no problem, love!! i love the soulmate trope a lot too. 💕

when the other isn't fronting, they speak in italics.

~

n…urse (the touch of a soulmate can heal you from affliction and vice versa).

With hands that maimed and shed so much blood, Marc resigned himself to the fact that he'd never find peace. As long as he'd be Khonshu's avatar, he'd never escape the killings and despair it brought. And though it brought him some solace knowing those he was assigned to murder were only the worst of humanity, it didn't spare the fact that it was, in the end, murder. 

Even now as he was on a mission, he knew the cold stares of the men bleeding out on the floor would be burned into his memory. Quite literally, as that room with all his victims had proved that more than anything. With a sigh, he put away his crescent blades, ready to go back home and let Steven front so he wouldn't have to ruminate on the fact. 

Marc, did you hear that?

He paused, letting the hood and mask of his outfit fall away so that he could listen carefully. 

Haggard breaths and stifled weeping. 

Where on earth could that be coming from?

He followed the sound to the back of the van, unease already forming at the implications. Making sure the back was unlocked first, he went to open it which confirmed his suspicions.

The first thing he noticed were the bruises littered about your skin, and with the blindfold and restraints, you failed to recognize him beyond your captors as you went silent and near still save for your trembling. The sight did wonders to ease his guilt at least. 

Bloody hell.. these were some awful people, Marc.

He grimaced in agreement, but as he’s about to call out to you, he hesitates. Steven might be better for this, he thinks. In the metal of the vehicle, he sees Steven shake his head. 

Go on mate, the longer you take, the more she’ll fret now.

He sighs, “Hey.” You flinch, and he winces at the gruffness of his voice, so he tries again, gentler this time. 

“I took care of the guys who hurt you. I’m gonna let you go now, okay?” Your breathing is still shallow, which concerns him, but he cuts away at your binds the moment you give him the go ahead. 

His touch is light and way too gentle to be any way reminiscent of those who kidnapped you. You can’t help but laugh shakily, just relieved that it’s all over. He pauses at your reaction, and you can tell he’s confused. 

“Sorry, I’m just- I’m so glad they’re finally gone now.” Your voice is hoarser than you expected, making you cringe. But you can’t bring yourself to focus on that when you find your wounds aren’t aching anymore. At last he takes off your blindfolds, it takes you a moment to adjust your eyes and you see him. 

His brows are furrowed with careful concentration along with focused, piercing eyes that would’ve frightened you had you not know he was your savior. But with how intense his gaze was, he almost looked constipated. You stifle a laugh, which gains you more confusion from the man. 

“S-Sorry! Sorry, it’s just that, you look so serious. Do I look that bad?” His expression relaxes a bit, and he lets out a soft huff. Yet when he glances at your bruises, he finds that they aren't as exacerbated as they were before. He wears that silly, serious expression again and you’re tempted to smooth out the wrinkle that forms in his brows. 

Unfortunately, the impulse was immediately acted upon considering your lack of inhibitions from the whole ordeal. But you accomplish your goal when instead, his eyes widen and his expression relaxes under your hand. 

He doesn’t get it. He doesn’t understand the fact that with a single brush of your fingertips against his face, he finds fullness in the silence, reprieve with every breath he takes, peace in the moment. He watches you move your hand away when you find yourself, and though you appear embarrassed, he finds himself more so when he realizes how much he misses the contact already. 

“Sorry,” you utter again, “I wasn’t thinking and-” he grabs your hand again with urgency at first. Yet he remembers your condition, and his grasp becomes gentle. The action shocks the two of you, and while Marc is mortified he did that without thinking, he manages to recover from it quickly. 

“You gotta stop apologizing, you know.” Enraptured, you find yourself just nodding along. But again you realize the utter lack of pain you should be feeling. Another glance, and you notice, your bruises are gone. 

“Who are you?” You almost start to think this is some sort of dream. But the weight and warmth of his hand, even the details of the callouses upon his fingertips is just too real to ignore. 

“Marc. Spector.” He clears his throat, “Marc Spector.” He says altogether. A smile forms on your face as you tell him your name in return. 

.

“Marc..”

Steven, I’m not gonna hear it.

“But Marc-”

No, I already told you that this was how it’s gonna go.

They both knew you were something special. After Marc made sure you got home safely that night, the two of you shared contact information because there was a mutual understanding that there was something about the other neither of you could ignore. 

But no matter how much Marc longed to see you again, he was afraid of what you could mean to them. He was resigned to denying himself this chance, so already it took a lot of convincing from Steven to allow even the alter to meet you. 

“Alright, but you’re being a bit of a knob, you know that right?” He watched his reflection roll his eyes, so he frowned right on back as he adjusted the collar of his shirt. “I just don’t understand why you do this to yourself. It’s not like you’re the only one interested, not to mention, they seemed rather fancied too.” He mutters, trying to fix the stray curl that always managed to find its way back onto his forehead. 

He didn’t miss the hesitation Marc had at that statement, but both parties were distracted by the knocking at the door. 

To be honest, Steven was also quite taken to you after seeing you last. And opening the door to you dressed comfortably and looking at ease in your own skin already has him feeling something more. When you light up at the sight of him, he swears his heart flutters like nothing else before. 

“Steven, right?” The sound of his name from your lips easily brings a smile to his face, and you can easily feel the difference between the two of them.

“Yes! Come on in, love. Apologies for such a late notice, I hope it didn’t trouble you much.” Though the endearment causes you to blush, you shake your head as you enter. 

“No, not at all. I thought it as a good opportunity to meet you also.” You say as if it’s the most natural thing to do, getting acquainted with the other person of the same body. You were so understanding over the phone when he, or rather, Marc,  broke the news to you about his disorder. Rather than respond with apprehension or even any sort of displeasure at the revelation, you were curious, excited even to get to know Steven as much as Marc. The thought comforts him really, and he can’t help but get his hopes up. 

“Well, I’m quite fond of getting to know you too.” He pauses, before giving a cheeky little grin. “You know, Marc has spoken quite well of you since then.”

Steven…

But the man is pleased the mere statement has you flustered and tugging at your sleeves in a nervous habit. “Really? I wasn’t sure I made much of an impression.” 

Even if he had met you on the street, he’s sure he wouldn’t have forgotten you. He has a feeling Marc shares the same sentiment. 

“It’s not often someone can be as lighthearted after what you’ve been through. I only wish we could’ve met you in better circumstances.” He tuts, shaking his head, “But let’s not focus on that, I had a whole bit planned for us today if you’re up for it.” The thoughtfulness pulls a smile onto your face.

“I’d love to.”

. . 

Steven was softer spoken, but that didn’t mean he didn’t talk any less. Honestly, you didn’t mind, considering how excited he’d get about his topics of interest. That paired alongside his cute, little accent basically had you hanging on his every word. It also helped that he took you to the museum, his discounted tickets made it all the more ideal to go to. 

And he was such a darling about it too, always checking in on you to make sure you were enjoying yourself and overly fretting that maybe he was talking your ear off since he has a habit of speaking too much before he realizes it. You quickly shut down the thought by responding you were glad to have your very own, personal tour guide. To add on top of your statement, you made sure to ask a few extra questions just to encourage him to talk. 

Marc was quiet throughout the whole endeavor. After everything that happened in Egypt, he knew it’d be difficult to fall back into their normal routine again. Yet watching Steven talk to you so carefree and at ease, he couldn’t help but be relieved for a moment. But nonetheless, this was more of a date than he’d like it to be. He only acquiesced because he warned Steven to keep the distance, but right off the bat the man did and said what he wished. Damn Steven for getting so confident after everything, no matter how much it made him proud. Even so, he didn’t force his way to fronting either because he didn’t know if he had the courage to deny you. So he was left to watch, more jealous than he’d ever admit. 

“You mind if I ask a weird question?"” He blinked, not expecting it but quickly nodded to not allow you to shy away. 

“I don’t mind at all, it’s just been me speaking this whole lot anyways.” He gives a quick laugh. “What is it, love?” 

“How exactly do you talk to Marc? I mean, you are sharing the same body and everything.” That surprised him, and he glanced at the reflective plaque as if expecting Marc to respond. The man only shrugged, pretending not to care. “Sorry, was that too much of me?” He shook his head immediately.

“Of course not, you could never be.” He blurted, becoming embarrassed. “Er, what I mean is that it’s a perfectly reasonable question.” He scratched the back of his head, “It’s a little strange to admit, but he’s sorta my reflection.” He watches you look around to try finding the nearest reflective surface and he can’t help but laugh at how cute that is. 

“Hey.” You mock frown, but you’re secretly pleased to see the twinkle of delight in his eyes as he looks at you. You wouldn’t mind if he looked at you like that everyday. “Can you see him now?” 

Don’t tell her, Steven.

He nods, although curious, “Why do you ask?” 

“I have something I want to tell him.” You reply without hesitation, still trying to keep an eye out for anywhere with reflections. You do notice a particularly shiny pillar, but you think it’s rather far to hold a conversation with. But then that makes you wonder, do they have to talk aloud to communicate? “I mean, that is, if he can hear me.” 

“Yeah he can. You know he’s been off and grumpy in this plaque here for quite a while now. Think the lad’s jealous is what it is.” He taps on the piece of metal to further point it out. 

Steven! What the hell do you think you’re doing? I told you that you weren’t supposed to mention me at-

“Hey Marc?” You’re looking straight at the plaque, and for a moment, Marc swears you can actually see him then and there. “Thank you. I don’t think I ever got the chance to tell you that night, but I’m really glad I got to meet you and Steven.” And then you smile, and though it should be impossible since he’s not fronting, the sight takes his breath away. 

When you turn back to Steven, you see the fondest expression on his face that makes your face warm. He’s amazed by you is why he’s having such a goofy smile— the kind that stretches his lips and forms a little wrinkle on the edges of his cheeks. He remembers how you didn’t even question it when he told you Marc wasn’t going to see you today, only understanding that the man had his reasons. 

Tell her I just did my job that night.

His eyes widen and he looks at the reflection. You looked curious, “Did he say something?” Even Marc is looking back at him with surprise as well. 

I.. forget I said anything. 

“Yes, actually.” He sees Marc’s lips downturn to a frown. “He’s glad to have met you as well. I am the same.” Your blush starts to become quite visible, pleasing him as it seems to cause Marc to be at a loss for words. 

A sudden growl stuns the both of you, and he gets all bashful then. “Ah, that ruined the moment didn’t it? What a shame.” He laughs, lightly patting his stomach. “It seems I’m a bit peckish now, hm? Are you alright in finding some takeaway and ending the date at my flat?” He blinks when you look at him with a stunned look on your face. “S-Sorry! That was too forward of me wasn’t it?” Taking a deep breath, you feel emboldened to act up as well. 

Reaching out, you carefully take his hand into yours, and give him a cheeky little grin. “Only if you’re alright with me doing the same.” Both his eyes and mouth are wide with shock, and he flounders for words which brings you to laugh. “Ah! I don’t mean to laugh, you just look so cute right now.” 

It feels as if time slows down then. This man who you’ve barely known for a day and some already makes you feel such affection for him. With the way he looks at you, he makes it perfectly clear that he feels the same way. The deep browns of his eyes have you mesmerized, and you catch him glancing down to your lips for a split second. He slowly starts leaning in, and you’re just about to reach up to cup his face when something in his gaze flickers and he pauses. 

“Let’s go get dinner then.” That American accent. 

Marc ends up leading you out of the museum, but you make sure to take note that while he did pull back, he never did let go of your hand on the way out. 

. . . 

He didn’t say much after getting the food or even getting settled down in the flat. He did reply to any inquiries you made with soft noises of acknowledgement, but hardly went beyond a ‘yes’. It astonished you truly how different the two men were. As you watched him walk about his kitchen, the way he carried himself was more confident, with straighter posture while he shuffled about silently. You helped him set up the food, and he didn’t even question it beyond a curious glance as he handed you utensils and napkins. The whole scene felt too domestic, and you could barely hold back a smile at the thought. 

“I had fun today.” He grunts with a nod. When he had first done so, you had taken it a little apprehensively, especially due to the sudden contrast from Steven. But with the crinkle in his brow that formed from concern, you knew that wasn’t his intention. You figured that he didn’t know how to respond, yet didn’t want to make you think he wasn’t listening. It was his way of showing he was indeed hearing you, and you found that sweet. You slowly open your box, blowing at the steam that puffed out. “I’m glad that I also get the chance to spend some time with you too.” You added on quietly as an afterthought. 

He froze which was made pointedly clear as he fumbled with his own box that tapped against the table. Nervous, you realized. That’s why he was so quiet. He slowly nodded, and not to embarrass him further with the silence, you thanked him for the food and quickly dug in. 

Which was a mistake because it was piping hot. 

The table jolted as you flinched. Your tongue burned, and you barely were able to swallow down the bite much to your discomfort. Marc shot up in alarm, and made his way next to you in a couple of strides, and his hands rose to hover over you worriedly. 

“Are you okay? What happened?” His voice was low, but it hardly hid how concerned he was. His eyes were scanning the food carefully as if it were an active threat, and you waved your hand to hopefully ward off his fears. 

“H-Hot.” You scrunch your face at the pain that rushes through your mouth from speaking. He kneels to get closer to you, a hand reaching up to your face to cradle it and assess the damage. When you open your eyes, he’s barely inches away. 

The crease in his brow was deepened, pressing down and shadowing his eyes and he was too preoccupied to notice the proximity. With his hand so close, you could feel the heat of him radiate off of it. You felt just as mesmerized when you first met him, and you couldn’t help but lean into his touch. It was only then that he noticed the position and felt his breath stutter. 

But your own brows furrowed when you realized your tongue didn’t hurt at all. You gasped, immediately reactivating his protective mode, but you reached up to rest your hand on top of his. “It doesn’t hurt anymore.” He blinks. “My tongue.” Further confusion and you laughed. “Sorry- er, I mean- Well, it’s not just that. I forgot to mention also that night, you made my bruises go away too.” There’s a spark of recognition and he nods. “How’d you do that?” 

“I don’t know.” His gaze glances to where your bruises were, his gaze darkening from the memory. “It’s not something I can do.” Yet when you lightly brush your thumb over his knuckles, the tension is relieved from his face and he feels himself go still under your touch. “You affect me somehow too.” He says before he can think which makes him cringe. “I didn’t mean it like-” he sighs, “I don’t know how to explain it.” 

“As if I could trust you with my whole life despite barely knowing you.” He stares at you, a little too long that makes you think you’ve said something wrong for a moment until he leans in closer. 

“I didn’t mean to front today.” He pauses, looking away as he tries to find his words. “To be honest, I wanted to avoid you, but after seeing you talk with Steven, I..” he trails off, sighing as his eyes eventually find their way back to yours. 

For a moment he looks small. Eyes filled with uncertainty, but even so, you manage to see a glimmer of hope. His voice gets somehow quieter as he barely murmurs, “Can I?” And you know he’s referring back to your statement. Your hand falls from his, causing his heart to start sinking. But then you lean in, touching your forehead against his as your hand ends up resting on his shoulder. 

“I would trust you.” Your breath fans over his lips from the proximity, and his eyelids flutter to lay half-lidded. 

Since he left the museum, Steven had been talking at him almost nonstop from the takeout to the flat, even as he got ready to eat with you. He wasn’t responding as he should, he wasn’t honest with himself, he stole you away from your lovely time with Steven. And Marc knew that, but you didn’t make a single complaint. You smiled at him. And every sweet word that fell from your lips, he knew in his heart you meant it. You were happy to be with him just as much as Steven.

The alter in question went completely silent as his lips made contact with yours. And while envious to some extent, he was also relieved. Marc had finally allowed himself some good; he had found his peace with you.

masterlist

[shnargo]

thank you!! 😊

when you're having an onset panic attack [s.g. & m.s.]

a/n: this may not be completely accurate as it primarily is based on my own experiences and is written for my own comfort :) warnings: descriptions of a panic attack word count: 788

-

Steven was going off on another tangent about the shoddy handiwork of the gift shop merchandise

"Really, love, the Ra erasers look more like pigeons than a falcon. It's ridiculous-"

And while you heard the words, they didn't really register. The sound fell numbly on ears that were full of cotton and you hardly managed to nod ever so frequently to ward off suspicion.

It seemed to work as he led you through the busy streets of London, holding your hand to keep you close to him.

The day wasn't particularly windy, but your hair decided to fall all over your face, the sensation grating on your nerves more than usual. You felt a step behind your body and all you could focus on was your breathing.

Too quick, too shallow. Slow down and take in more air before you cry. Since when were you on the verge tears? You could've sworn you were fine just a second-

The rush of a car passing by made you freeze up, the only evidence that it was there in the first place was the breeze that mussed your hair further and the faint resonance of its engine rumbling in the distance.

That gave you away because your stopping caused you to tug Steven back a bit, especially as your grip tightened on his hand.

"Love? Is everything alright?"

The action hardly caused him to stumble, but when he turned around to look at you, his eyebrows knit together and his posture stiffened; the traits that gave away the fronting of Marc.

"What's wrong?"

He took a step closer, his head tilting down to align himself with your line of sight. You really tried to focus on him, but your eyes refused you and stared off into the distance blurrily instead.

"Deep breaths, we're almost home. We still need to figure out what we're gonna eat for dinner, remember? Can you try coming up with ideas for me?"

He gently squeezed your hand, reminding you to answer with another nod. He began walking again, but this time, he didn't let you leave his line of sight.

The rest of the commute was a blur, and you were standing in the middle of his flat, watching Marc hang up his coat and roll up his sleeves while you stood still, unable to bring yourself to move. But he came up to you, lightly tugging your jacket off and putting it away for you.

"Did you come up with something?"

There was only patience in his gaze although you knew how long your response took.

"We still have some pre-made stock and vegetables in the fridge."

Your gaze drifted along the small kitchen, seeing the half-sliced loaf of bread in its box. Words failed to keep cooperating with you so you pointed to it instead.

"Soup and bread sounds good. Can you wash the veggies for me?"

He led you to the fridge, and this time you were able to take the initiative by opening the door and taking out the bag of stale growing but still edible vegetables. You found your way to the sink, pushing up the handle and pulling out the vegetables as the water ran cold.

It was like watching outside of your body as your hands moved without your thinking, mindlessly rinsing and putting aside carrots, potatoes, miscellaneous. You noticed Marc taking out a pot as silently as he could to not disturb you. When he took the clean pile you'd created, he mumbled a soft thanks as he started chopping them into smaller pieces.

The rest of the cooking followed similarly. Marc gave you easy instructions of pouring in the stock or stirring the pot, while he handled the more dangerous aspects of using the knife and likewise.

The noises weren't intrusive, just soothing repetition of the water bubbling or the gentle clinking of the ladle against the metal of the pot. Soon enough the hearty scent of the soup filled the air, making it a little easier to breathe.

You felt a warm hand envelop yours, raising it to rougher lips that faintly pressed against your palm. The earthly browns of his eyes bore deep into your own, and the sight along made your heart tremble because it made you realize: he knew.

His thumb wiped away the wet streaks sliding down your cheek as he guided you close to him.

"It's okay, you're okay. You're alive and safe, and everything's gonna be alright."

Your lip trembled, but you let your head fall into his chest, finding it easier not to give into the thoughts that would normally run rampant in your skull.

"I'm not going anywhere."

With that, you were able to keep breathing steadily.

masterlist

[shnargo]

when you're having an onset panic attack [s.g. & m.s.]

a/n: this may not be completely accurate as it primarily is based on my own experiences and is written for my own comfort :) warnings: descriptions of a panic attack word count: 788

-

Steven was going off on another tangent about the shoddy handiwork of the gift shop merchandise

"Really, love, the Ra erasers look more like pigeons than a falcon. It's ridiculous-"

And while you heard the words, they didn't really register. The sound fell numbly on ears that were full of cotton and you hardly managed to nod ever so frequently to ward off suspicion.

It seemed to work as he led you through the busy streets of London, holding your hand to keep you close to him.

The day wasn't particularly windy, but your hair decided to fall all over your face, the sensation grating on your nerves more than usual. You felt a step behind your body and all you could focus on was your breathing.

Too quick, too shallow. Slow down and take in more air before you cry. Since when were you on the verge tears? You could've sworn you were fine just a second-

The rush of a car passing by made you freeze up, the only evidence that it was there in the first place was the breeze that mussed your hair further and the faint resonance of its engine rumbling in the distance.

That gave you away because your stopping caused you to tug Steven back a bit, especially as your grip tightened on his hand.

"Love? Is everything alright?"

The action hardly caused him to stumble, but when he turned around to look at you, his eyebrows knit together and his posture stiffened; the traits that gave away the fronting of Marc.

"What's wrong?"

He took a step closer, his head tilting down to align himself with your line of sight. You really tried to focus on him, but your eyes refused you and stared off into the distance blurrily instead.

"Deep breaths, we're almost home. We still need to figure out what we're gonna eat for dinner, remember? Can you try coming up with ideas for me?"

He gently squeezed your hand, reminding you to answer with another nod. He began walking again, but this time, he didn't let you leave his line of sight.

The rest of the commute was a blur, and you were standing in the middle of his flat, watching Marc hang up his coat and roll up his sleeves while you stood still, unable to bring yourself to move. But he came up to you, lightly tugging your jacket off and putting it away for you.

"Did you come up with something?"

There was only patience in his gaze although you knew how long your response took.

"We still have some pre-made stock and vegetables in the fridge."

Your gaze drifted along the small kitchen, seeing the half-sliced loaf of bread in its box. Words failed to keep cooperating with you so you pointed to it instead.

"Soup and bread sounds good. Can you wash the veggies for me?"

He led you to the fridge, and this time you were able to take the initiative by opening the door and taking out the bag of stale growing but still edible vegetables. You found your way to the sink, pushing up the handle and pulling out the vegetables as the water ran cold.

It was like watching outside of your body as your hands moved without your thinking, mindlessly rinsing and putting aside carrots, potatoes, miscellaneous. You noticed Marc taking out a pot as silently as he could to not disturb you. When he took the clean pile you'd created, he mumbled a soft thanks as he started chopping them into smaller pieces.

The rest of the cooking followed similarly. Marc gave you easy instructions of pouring in the stock or stirring the pot, while he handled the more dangerous aspects of using the knife and likewise.

The noises weren't intrusive, just soothing repetition of the water bubbling or the gentle clinking of the ladle against the metal of the pot. Soon enough the hearty scent of the soup filled the air, making it a little easier to breathe.

You felt a warm hand envelop yours, raising it to rougher lips that faintly pressed against your palm. The earthly browns of his eyes bore deep into your own, and the sight along made your heart tremble because it made you realize: he knew.

His thumb wiped away the wet streaks sliding down your cheek as he guided you close to him.

"It's okay, you're okay. You're alive and safe, and everything's gonna be alright."

Your lip trembled, but you let your head fall into his chest, finding it easier not to give into the thoughts that would normally run rampant in your skull.

"I'm not going anywhere."

With that, you were able to keep breathing steadily.

masterlist