#yeah I stepped right out of one and into mud lmao

[kaleigh-color]

New favorite photo of myself

[lucysarah-c]

Levi's horrible flirting skills part 5.

Will I start using my own art as banners? Yeah, 'cause I can lmao.

Masterlist link to all the previous parts.

Footsteps against the muddy ground, the little snow that had fallen in the south melted easily and only served as nourishment to the mud. Levi’s combat boots made it easier for him to take one sturdy step after another, hands inside the pockets of the scout’s green trench coat. Eyes fixed on the ground, dark rebel locks fell to the sides of his face as only his nose peeked through the scarf, creating a fog rhythmically in front of his face. 

He took the muddiest side of the country road out of respect, it felt natural to him. Quickly, his eyes spotted that certain parts of the road were already frozen, “Careful-” 

But before he could actually voice it, instinctively he stopped to catch her as her shoes slipped. Her little squeezed scream paired with her movements as she gripped his arms for support. 

Levi, who was unfazed by her grip or the tricky winter ground, clicked his tongue, “I told you to be careful,” he said, but despite his words, his voice was calm and protective. 

“Ah, yes. My uniform isn’t really designed for a trip to the forest, is it?” she commented between chuckles, but they seemed mostly out of nerves because there wasn’t anything funny going on. 

Unfazed on the outside, Levi’s attention was fixed on his extended arms surrounding her frame but without touching her. She could easily grip any of his forearms for support, but he, who wasn’t a fan of physical contact, tried not to touch her. Not because he didn’t want to, but because he didn’t want to overstep. The only thought crossing his mind as she tried to get both of her feet on steady land was looking at her hands, imagining them around his. 

This could easily be a routine of theirs, him making sure she reached the ferry station safely as she came over to visit him. Walking side by side, fingers intertwined. But that was a daydream still far away, and Levi quickly realized this as she placed a hand on his shoulder and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Well... not actually, it was more like a cheek against cheek as she pressed the side of her face against his and made a kissing sound without her lips actually touching his skin. 

He frowned and slightly pushed back, mostly out of surprise. 

“Oops, sorry-” she said cheekily, recalling both of them how they first met, “I forgot that tough-up soldiers don’t give kisses.” It was mockery. 

“Thank you, Captain.” 

Levi raised his right hand, taking it out of his pocket and imitated her wave back but with far less enthusiasm. Greeting with kisses, something that he had only seen between women but it seemed that in the capital it was also exchanged between men and women. He found it a bit too personal for his taste, but that was because he didn’t even shake hands usually. 

‘I’m a tough-up soldier... I’ll gladly receive a kiss from you.’ 

His hand lowered slowly as he observed her aboard, as an eagle his attention was inflexible. Levi didn’t realize he was holding his hand up until that moment, ‘what an idiot.’ 

But as his bare right hand began to feel the winter weather compared to how warm it was inside his pockets, the freezing air against his skin was a cold wash of reality; they didn’t walk holding hands, it was just a dream. ‘Four-eyes was right... I’m not even trying.’ 

For dreams to come true, you must wake up and work on real life. He was determined. Her welcoming smile from the ferry that began, and a new waving hand to him that was still waiting at the bottom, looking at her. 

“Cap!” She screamed. 

And he couldn’t help but smile very softly at the picture of her face from the top of the boat. 

“Enjoy the cake!” 

Levi’s smile dropped slowly, ‘Eventually I’ll have to fucking tell her that I don’t like sweet shit...’ 

‘Oh well... problems of future’s Levi.’ 

Since then, he was a man with a mission. ‘She asked me for a friend, so at least she doesn’t think I’m a fucking creep.’ 

Seeing the glass half full? That’s exactly what Levi was going to start to do. Baby steps. It’s not that he crossed paths with her continuously, especially when they were not going outside on expeditions. He began to do a mental list; Sweet stuff, flowers, cats, and allergic to nuts. He certainly could come up with something. 

‘Maybe I could write a letter... thank her for the cake.’ 

‘Let’s not carry on the idea that you like that, I don’t like to fucking lie to her.’ 

‘Wouldn’t it be weird that you wrote a letter out of nowhere? Plus, what the hell are you going to write there? ‘Thanks for the cake, I don’t like it, but Hange did.’ No, no, let’s leave the letters to poets and their smooth shit.’ 

And so on, he wished he was as decisive as he was in battle in his romantic life. But as soon as he saw his chance, Levi was confident about taking it. Military event, the weather had gotten better, they were about to leave for an expedition in a couple of days. Had he protected the piece of cake that he was given at the end of the dinner with his life from Hange? Yes, an easier task was retaking Wall Maria. 

“Come on! You’re not going to eat it!” 

“I’ve seen Titans less persistent than you.” 

Levi felt particularly judged walking down the hallways as he switched buildings of the military and went to the main hospital. MPs recognized him in the streets, citizens whispered his name, and he felt a ginormous power to turn around and forget it all. 

‘This is stupid.’ 

‘Well, sometimes you gotta do some stupid shit to get what you want ... I just wished I did this sort of stupid shit when I was young enough to be too hormonal or drunk to care.’ 

“Y/N?” he asked at the front desk, “Is she on service?” 

The other two girls exchanged a look, one took a sip of her tea to hide her raising smirk and the other replied, “Give me a minute, Captain.” 

She rushed behind to the staff-only section and Levi felt particularly impatient. ‘What the hell am I going to tell her? I got a piece of cake and thought of you? No, that’s ridiculous. Then why the fuck am I doing here?! I don’t know!’ 

“Captain?” her voice, her almost closed eyes as she tried to force them open, her hair messy. 

‘I want to see her... I want to see her before I leave to that hell out there.’ 

“Captain, is everything alright?” She asked worriedly, as she moved between the furniture of the hospital’s archive. Her hands hastily tried to ease out her clothes. 

‘Fucking shit...’ he imagined her waking up by his side, drowsy, bed hair and tossed clothes. But as she grew closer, he grew speechless. 

“Is everything alright? Is it an emergency?” Her worried tone made him snap. 

“Yes,” “No,” he replied monosyllabically. 

“Then... what are you-” 

“For you,” Levi acted almost instinctively, pushing the gift in her direction. “No nuts so I don’t fucking kill you.” 

Her lips remained parted while processing the situation, once sense came back into her, she slowly accepted the gift. “Why thank you...” she said in a trance, “Did something happen, Captain-” 

“Levi.” 

“Huh?” 

“My name is Levi.” 

He dodged the question. And while he felt it was only him and her there as her eyes shined in surprise, the truth is that people walked past by them in a hurry to fulfil their tasks. 

“You... you’re leaving, right?” she broke the awkward silence, “To an expedition, I mean.” 

Levi nodded. 

“I hope you return safe. I’ll volunteer to the medical brigade for the return.” 

The mere idea of her waiting at the improvised medical camp they always had to check the soldiers and help the wounded once they returned from outside the walls was enough to make him excited and hopeful. Both necessary emotions when you’re going to face death. 

‘That’ll be a hell of a blessing.’ 

“You’ll be useful there,” Levi replied. 

He knew it was almost disrespectful to be waiting for it; his comrades died, mothers lost their sons, kids lost their mothers. Everyone had their expectations of him, but he was only human. A man who wanted to just catch at least a glimpse of his girl’s face to make it seem like returning from hell had some sort of value. 

Once most of the soldiers had been cared for, Levi searched through the crowd, peeking through the people, getting on his tiptoes to get some height to spot her. 

‘There you are.’ He felt second-hand embarrassment for how excited he got, but as he took steady steps closer, the emotions withdrew slowly. 

Her eyes were reddish and transparent, long face and trembling lips. 

‘No... why are you crying? Who do I have to kill? Give me a name.’ 

Knuckles of a bigger hand began to caress her cheek. She looked up as his knuckle turned into his thumb, softly loving her face. He was dressed in a white overall that clearly indicated he was a doctor. 

‘Who the hell is he?’ Levi quickly felt the anger boiling. He knew he was being irrational, but he had just come back from risking his life; his mind was not seeing reason. 

“Is this a museum?” the doctor, who seemed younger than Levi anticipated, asked cheekily. 

Y/N looked up at him confused. ‘Why the fuck is he so hella tall?’ 

“Then what are two art pieces doing here, you,” as he said that, Y/N gasped, blushed, and smiled shyly, “And that smile.” 

‘He made her smile... he made her smile and blush.’ 

Levi’s steady pace up to them lost its confidence. She noticed him and smiled softly, welcoming, but that didn’t make the Captain feel better. The doctor realized his presence and probably decided to carry on with the rest of his tasks, not without moving past her by dragging his hand across the bottom of her back and giving her waist a little squeeze as he smiled. 

“Levi, I’m so happy you made it back.” 

But those words and her friendly squeeze of his forearms went unnoticed as Levi’s surgical observation caught all that, and he couldn’t hide his unfriendly stare at the man. 

‘Cut your fucking hand off and feed it to pigs before touching her like that without her permission.’ 

— 

“I don’t like the asshole.” 

“You don’t like him, or you’re just jealous he’s charming?” Hange asked as they spun around in their desk chair. “Or that he’s almost as tall as Erwin.” 

“Tch, I don’t like the asshole. Nothing to do with that frivolous shit.” 

‘Perhaps a little bit.’ 

Hange chuckled and rolled their eyes. “Your reasons?” 

Levi rose from his seat, exasperated, walking around the brunette’s office like a caged lion. “Do I have reasons? Yeah. Good reasons? Yeah. How many reasons do I need? None. My intuition has never failed me to spot out jerks.” 

Suddenly, now that he was back to work and had excuses to visit her more frequently, he was always there. The way he always found a way to rest his hand on the bottom of her back right above her ass, squeeze her waist friendly, run a hand through her hair, smile at her. 

“Doesn’t he have better shit to do?” Levi muttered annoyed, observing from a distance at how he said something that made her laugh. 

“Well, he’s at his job,” Erwin replied, mocking him as the captain’s attitude seemed childish. 

“I love how your hair looks in that,” the doctor casually commented. 

It ate Levi from the inside how she began to make it her usual look. ‘That’s the kind of shit you should’ve been saying, but you’re stupid!’ 

Levi hated it. It made him grit his teeth in uncontrolled fury how she always smiled with blushed cheeks and hopeful eyes as she looked at him. ‘She’s just too naive and doesn’t fucking notice that he’s obviously trying to take advantage.’ 

“You’re just jealous; it won’t hurt you to admit it.” 

Levi clicked his tongue, muttering against the hand that held his head, “He fucking stinks, he just wants to get between her legs.” 

“Like you?” Hange joked around as they raised their eyebrows and smirked at their friend. 

“Tch,” he straightened up, offended. “Don’t fucking compare me to him.” 

‘I mean, yes... but no!... I’ll do it respectfully.’ 

One thing was Capital people being too frivolous about their personal space, and another was that Levi always caught him playfully around another girl. 

‘The dude has more hands than an octopus, and none of them are ever over his own fucking body.’ 

The mere idea of him taking advantage of her, of her kindness, made Levi clench his fist. It was very early; Levi had just come out of an extraordinary meeting with the military board that lasted all night long. 

Perhaps he should have given it a thought when he had slept better, not that he slept plenty, but at least he knew how to normally function with three hours of sleep. It was too early to get any transport back to the scout's facility, so he was just doing time as Erwin talked to investors. On the other hand, she was a fresh early bird working at her position quietly as it was a calm morning. 

She seemed radiant, rosy cheeks and smooth hair... hair in the same style he had praised. ‘For fuck's sake,’ it rubbed him the wrong way. 

“Oi,” Levi decided to interrupt her monologue; he was slacked against a wall, bent slightly over with arms crossed. ‘Show her that you care,’ Hange's words echoed in his mind. 

“Yes?” She was archiving paperwork and organizing reports. 

“That asshole... one of the doctors in your division.” 

“Matty?” She quickly filled in the information, “What about him? Do you need him?” Her attention briefly moved to the clock on the wall, “He won’t be here until later on; he had the night shift today.” 

Levi clicked his tongue, looking in another direction, ‘she doesn’t even suspect him.’ 

“No,” he spat out, “Look, keep your guard up around him. Don’t be stupid.” 

Y/N turned around confused, her eyebrows drawn together in mixed emotions. 

‘I’m just trying to protect you.’ 

Levi felt her attention. His steps echoed around the whitish walls of the empty hospital, keeping his head down as he approached. “I’m just saying that stupid little spoiled brats from the Capital like you sometimes don’t realize it, but morons like him aren’t playing friendly.” 

“Excuse me? What did you say?” 

That was the moment Levi should have noticed the change in her tone and the frown switching from confused to angry. 

The click of his tongue was mostly because he didn’t know how to phrase it better, “I’m just saying, dummy,” he swore his tone was caring as his calloused hand from continuous hours of training reached out to caress her forearm tenderly, “that you may be too stupid for your own good and be all nice and friendly, but don't be stupid and do what I tell you." 

‘I care about you and I know firsthand how those assholes abuse their power around girls. I’ll beat the living shit out of him if he ever makes you feel uncomfortable.’ 

Levi swore he had been tender. He wished to run his thumb over her cheek and show her how she could rely on him, how much he was there for her, for her safety. 

“Captain,” Y/N’s tone made Levi snap up as he had his attention focused on his hand that was trying to connect with her, “Who the hell gave you the authority to tell me who I should get involved with?” 

“Ehm-” 

Levi took a step back, confused, as she looked back at him with anything but friendliness. 

“I’ve lived alone my entire life, I have a career, and the last thing I need is a man telling me that I’m too stupid for my own good,” she said, arms resting on her hips as her angry eyes burned into his. 

The cold water’s shock made any quick reply he had to fix the misunderstanding completely vanish, “No—” 

“I respect you for your work and because you’re a close friend of Erwin. But you’re not my father, nor my boss, to tell me what to do and, much less, that I don’t know how to take care of myself,” Y/N snapped a couple of folders on the desk, “If you’re looking to control someone’s life, I recommend adopting a dog. I have work to do. Have a nice day.” 

Levi stood there frozen in his place, perplexed. ‘Wait... is it wrong that I found it hot that she knows how to tell people to fuck off?’ 

“Fuck —” 

Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out. Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @angelofthor @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @l3visthighs @hum4n-wr3ckag3 @hannieslovebot @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @flxrartsstuff @katharinasdiaryy @levisecretgfblog @searriously @blackdxggr @ackermanswifee @galactict3a @abiatackerman @braunsbabe @moonchild-12345 @lemonsupernova @hyuckwon-my-husbands @heyitsd1yaa @sydneyyuu @love-for-faeries-go-burrrr @mandaax @sugacor3 @r0ckst4rjk @vegetasgirl2799 @catiwinky @pinksaiyans @sparklykeylime @hagridshaircare Wanna join my tag list? Here! You don't appear on this list? Do not worry! there's a limit of tags and I'll add you in the comments <3

[talesofesther]

until one of us caves

Rolan x Reader

Summary: After fighting Lorroakan, you decide to stay with Rolan.

A/N: I know that like maybe three people are gonna read this but I couldn't care less. The more I learned about Rolan's story, the bigger of a soft spot I got, and this little thought wouldn't leave my head so I had to write this down. Nothing serious, just something I wish I could do in the game. Also, this story kinda drifted a little from the original plan about halfway through and started writing itself, so don't blame me if the quality is dubious lmao. Requests for him are open I guess, if anyone's interested.

Word count: 3k

Masterlist

The scent of smoke and ash hung in the air. Stones and mud, remains of the elementals, littered the floor of Ramazith's Tower; as well as a few burned books here and there, smashed furniture, and splatters of blood in the marble. It would take a while to get the place back to the glory it could hold, but you figured it was doable.

The body of its previous master lay lifeless on the floor, spine broken, skin torn. You held no pity for him, only resentment.

From the corner of your eyes, you could spot a twitching tail and clenched fists, staring blankly at the body of his tormentor. He said nothing, merely huffed and walked away before you could think of saying anything, your gaze followed his steps.

The time between when you'd first set foot in Sorcerous Sundries and now had gone by in a haze. You had stopped dead in your tracks then, breath hitching as you caught sight of the countless bruises on Rolan's skin, and an overwhelming sense of protectiveness took over you. You'd walked up to him, the words "Who did this to you?" were stumbling past your lips before he even had the chance to utter the practiced greeting. Rolan had evaded the matter, as you'd expected, building ever higher walls around himself. And you'd surprised yourself with how restless the sight of him had made you feel.

"Soldier?" Karlach's hand on your shoulder pulled you back to the present, making you quickly turn your head back to her.

You blinked several times until your eyes regained their focus; "yeah?"

She gave you a halfhearted smile and you wondered just how much your turmoil showed on your face. "I was just asking if you're alright, and… where do we go from here." Her voice held kindness to it, as it usually did. More often than not Karlach was, surprisingly, a calming balm in your hectic days.

"Uh-" you hesitated. Perhaps you should already be used to being the one people turned to in search of guidance, leadership. But it was a title you'd never really asked for, was it?

"You guys should go ahead, dispose of him somewhere," you gestured to Lorroakan's lifeless form, "before anyone walks in on… all of this."

Karlach nodded along and then raised a brow at you. "And what of you?" She asked, yet there was a smirk on her lips that alluded to the fact that she already knew the answer.

"I'll hang back." Your cheeks warmed up, "I'll meet you guys at Elfsong later."

"Take your time, soldier," Karlach winked at you, then turned to hurl the dead Wizard's body over her shoulder. "Right let's go people, nothing left to see here."

"And how exactly do you intend to walk around the city with that?" Shadowheart asked exasperatedly, yet followed Karlach to the swirling portal nonetheless.

The tiefling shrugged, holding Lorroakan's body with one arm, "I don't know. If anyone asks we'll just say he's drunk or something."

"Are you out of your mind?"

"Oh, I want to see that."

Shadowheart and Astarion added simultaneously, one rolling her eyes and the other smiling brightly.

"Alright then, you think of some excuse for-"

You chuckled at the banter of your companions, their voices growing distant as they disappeared through the portal that would take them back to the bustle of Sorcerous Sundries.

With a deep breath in and a long exhale out, you turned around, gaze slowly roaming over the empty expanse of the luxurious tower; now so quiet, bordering on serene, save for the damage the battle left behind. Until you finally spotted the one you were looking for.

Rolan was tucked away in a shadowy corner, head bowed as he stacked a few fallen books on his hands and then beside each other on the shelves. His movements all stiff and slow, as if the books were much too heavy and it hurt to carry them.

The worry twirling in your stomach threatened to escape as you took careful steps towards him. Yet you still weren't sure how to approach him. The tower suddenly held a nearly intimate air. It was delicate, fragile. The lines between you and him had started to blur, you couldn't pinpoint when, but they did; and now, in the privacy of the high tower, you started to feel the weight of it.

You cleared your throat, but the tiefling didn't turn to look at you, though his shoulders relaxed ever so slightly. You wondered if he knew you'd stayed, or perhaps hoped you would.

"Rolan… would you like some help with organizing things a little? At least for the night?" You tried, unsure what else you could possibly say and biting back the urge to tell him that he looked like he needed a good night's rest. He wouldn't admit it, you knew; but the fight had taken a huge toll on his already bruised body. He looked utterly exhausted; shoulders slumped, tail laying limply on the floor, barely holding himself together.

He turned his head to glance at you, an unreadable expression on his face, and lips hovering with uncertainty for a moment. "No, I can manage…" Rolan's voice was quiet, his features softly highlighted by the last fading rays of sunshine coming through the tall windows. You could see the bruises on his cheek, jaw, and nose—some new, some old; darker shades blooming on his reddish skin.

"You can go," he turned away again.

"Are you… sure?" You took half a step forward, fidgeting with your own hands. You didn't feel like leaving him just yet.

"Yes. I'm sure." He finally faced you fully in a quick motion, eyebrows slightly furrowed, "I'm not a helpless child, I can at least take care of organizing this mess by myself, if nothing else."

You closed your eyes momentarily at his words, "That's- that's not what I meant, I know you can-"

"What is it you want then? That I thank you for saving my sorry ass? Again?" His tone held bite to it, anger even, yet you had a feeling that it wasn't directed at you, but at himself. With a huff, he threw aside the one book he still held in his hands, "Okay then, thank you, your heroic attitude of the day has been achieved." He gestured toward you, speaking as if he had been just another thing to check off your list.

The movement of his mouth had pried open a fresh cut he had on his lip. Rolan didn't seem to notice, but the small sliver of blood glinted in the low light. Your heart ached, but not for his words, they were mostly empty. It ached because you saw how much he was hurting. That defeated look lingered in his golden eyes, the same you'd seen at Last Light Inn when he had been incapable of rescuing his siblings. You wished you could tell him he was enough. You wished he would believe you.

You took in a steadying breath, holding onto your composure for both of your sakes. "It's not about being a hero, Rolan, it's about helping the people I care about."

Another scoff fell past his lips, he avoided your eyes, looking distantly out the window beside him; "What are you doing here then?"

You merely raised an eyebrow at him, features soft, allowing him to believe in whatever he wanted to believe.

His throat worked through a heavy gulp when he glanced at you again, tail swishing behind him as he took half a step back. "Sod off," the words came out heavy and unstable, "You came here because Lorroakan was after your Aasimar friend… Your job is done now, you can leave." He stormed past you then, quick steps taking him to the other side of the tower.

With a roll of your eyes, you followed after him, "I came here because I care about you, too." You tried to convey as much sincerity in your words as you could, staring intently at his back as he raised a fallen chair. You caught a glimpse of his tail, coiled tightly around his own leg. You wondered if he even realizes he's doing it, if it's some kind of self-soothing habit he's learned over the years.

His hair had been undone, too, falling freely over his shoulders and looking a tad longer than what you were used to. The look suited him—a touch of softness in his usually sharp appearance—in the back of your mind you promised yourself to tell him that someday.

Several beats of silence went by. With Rolan holding tightly onto the back of the wooden chair. You tended to be annoyingly insistent, the tiefling thought to himself. Ever since the first time he met you, you had a habit of refusing to give up on people. On him. Rolan tried to tell himself it didn't get to him, that the butterflies in his stomach, and the overwhelming relief your mere presence brought him meant absolutely nothing. Because of course, you wouldn't look twice at someone like him, would you?

It was ironically sad that his heart would choose you—the hero, his hero—of all people, to have a soft spot for. He could never measure up, not really, and he knew that; told himself that very fact over and over whenever his mind dared to hope with what-ifs.

"You don't mean that," his voice was small and he berated himself for allowing it to be. He closed his eyes tightly, knuckles growing white with his grip on the chair. "And I was fine," Rolan emphasized the words yet he didn't know anymore if he was trying to convince you or himself.

Silence engulfed the tower again. Deafening silence. One sharp claw tapped the back of the wooden chair, a fast rhythm, following the heartbeat thundering through his veins. With a defeated sigh, Rolan turned to face you. Still, he refused to meet your eyes, focusing instead on the fabric of your glove wrapped around your hand; he could see faint scars on your fingers, wondered how you got them.

"Were you, really?" You asked then, softly, near desperately; waiting with bated breath for him to just look at you.

Rolan was a little difficult to get to, had been since you first met him. Part of you rather enjoyed your harmless bickering every now and then. Behind the witty words, there had always been hidden smiles and bashful eyes, the hopeful glint of being in each other's presence, if briefly.

Alas, you weren't exactly entitled to pry or demand, much as you cared for him it wasn't your place, so you relented; "Tell me you're alright, truly alright, and I'll leave if that's what you want so bad."

Rolan hesitated for a heartbeat, and then two, and three. Any words he might want to say were stuck in his throat, tangled in between feelings that confused the hells out of him. How could he ever tell you that he's not alright? That he hasn't been for a long time?

How could he tell you that he doesn't want you to leave, ever?

There was a distant stinging behind his eyes and he hated himself for it, for being so needy and vulnerable. He hated how his palms were sweaty and his heart threatened to break free of his ribcage with the speed it was beating. He hated how his knees seemed on the brink of collapsing with his weight. He hated how he suddenly felt all the bruises in his body hurting so badly, as if only now he allowed himself to feel the pain they inflicted. He hated-

A soft touch on his lower lip halted Rolan's spiraling thoughts abruptly, and his breath. With the sleeve of your robe, movement as light as a feather, you cleaned a sliver of blood that had escaped the fresh cut there. Rolan shuddered under your touch, for like a breath of fresh air after nearly drowning to death, that was all he could feel.

Pointy teeth dug into the inside of his cheek, holding back what would only be a flood of embarrassment for him if he allowed his pestering emotions to spill. His throat closed up tight, vision growing hazy until you were nothing but a blur in front of him.

There was something about the way you touched him oh so tenderly that got his walls tumbling down as if they were paper under the rain. Your hand lingered, refusing to part from him. Your fingers trailed a hesitant path to his cheek, mapping the bruises underneath- no, mapping his skin, him.

And he could crumble. Rolan felt himself falling, falling, falling.

When was the last time he felt a kind touch? one that didn't hurt or sting or threatened? He couldn't recall.

"I do mean it, I care about you, Rolan." You promised him, and only him. Whispered words dripping with affection.

The front of your boots hit his shoes as you took a final step closer. Rolan brought one hand up, his fingers closing around your wrist with urgency. Yet his hold was gentle, pressing into the veins there and feeling your pulse running beneath his fingertips. He held you there, all but begging you to stay. Words were difficult, complicated, and messy; hopefully his soul could tell you what he couldn't.

With your heart in your mouth, you mumbled; "it's okay. It's over." You're not sure if he heard or felt the words, but Rolan dipped his head forward until his forehead bumped yours.

Suddenly close wasn't close enough. You wanted to kiss away his tears, his bruises, his pain; promise him that everything would be alright now even if your own life was a sea of uncertainty.

"Why?" It fell past his lips. Such a genuine question uttered with such a small voice that it hurt you like a dagger to the heart.

"Why do these things happen to me?" Rolan's voice cracked and stumbled, his eyebrows briefly furrowed in a mix of anger and sorrow. "I-" he breathed in deep and unsteady, bright eyes welling with unshed tears that shone brightly under the soft candlelights on the walls.

You gulped back your own heartache, struggling to keep to yourself how soft he made you feel. You slowly raised your other hand to push fallen strands of hair behind his ear.

"I hoped it had a purpose," he admitted then, quiet as breath. His lower lip quivered before he spoke again, closing his eyes and leaning timidly towards your touch. "That it was a test, and he would- he would eventually stop. That I just needed to endure a while longer."

A choked sob stumbled past his lips and you felt the first of his tears landing on your thumb. Rolan shook his head, a self-deprecating scoff falling past his lips; "that I deserved it."

"Stop," you said before you could think, finally taking your hand away from his cheek, only to bury it into his hair instead. With the encouragement you knew he needed, you pulled him to you.

Rolan fell forward with no restraints, no hesitations, only a weary soul looking for solace. He buried his head between your neck and shoulder, both arms coming around your waist and squeezing tightly, to the point of his claws nearly ripping your robe.

You held him back with the same desperation, one hand tangling in between his hair and cradling his head to you. Your lips brushed the nape of his neck in a silent confession of adoration.

The fabric of your robe grew damp as silent tears fell past Rolan's defenses, his body shaking in your hold, releasing months if not years of bottled-up emotions.

With a kiss to his warm skin, embers of the fire he ignited in your heart broke free; "You could never deserve what he did to you. You're so very special, Rolan. To Cal, To Lia…" You told him, slow and tender, twirling strands of his hair between your fingers, and a small smile stretched your lips when you felt him relaxing against you. "… To me." It was nothing but a whisper, blown into the wind only for him to hear.

Rolan's breath stumbled, you felt it in the way he gripped you tighter—if that was even possible—and heard it in the soft gasp beside your ear.

"Please don't-" His voice broke in the middle, all husky and wobbly from his tears. "Don't say… that. If you don't mean-" he hesitated, fresh tears cascading freely down his cheeks, beyond any foolish attempt to be held back; they dripped down the bridge of his nose and soaked the fabric of your robe, making him curl into you all the more to hide his embarrassment from the outside world.

"Please," it was so quiet as he pleaded. For what, he wasn't entirely sure anymore. Maybe he just knew he couldn't take losing anything else.

You pulled back and Rolan felt his heart stumbling and cracking in his chest. But you were quick to mend it back together, with both hands coming up to hold his cheeks again, your thumbs brushing away the wetness there, near reverently.

"I promise," you whispered, gaze drifting ever so slightly downward before focusing back on his bright eyes. You were bold enough to lean in until the tip of your nose touched his, and as you did so you felt something coiling around your leg. You smiled; "I promise."

Rolan gulped, his mouth parting as he barely held himself back from closing the gap between you. Goosebumps littered his whole body when his upper lip accidentally brushed yours.

He pulled away but refused to loosen his grip on your waist. "I don't want you to leave," he said it so quietly, offering you his bleeding heart with a shaking hand.

Gentle fingers brushed away the messy strands of hair clinging to his forehead. When Rolan looked up, there was a loving smile on your lips, it was the first time he saw it and he already knew he'd kill to see it again.

You leaned closer, and with a kiss between his brows, you said; "then I'll stay."

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3

You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.

Rolan’s taglist: @milkiane@v1ci0us

[daemour]

♡ Event: @pirateeznet 2nd Anniversary Event

♡ Pairing: Farmhand! Choi San x home aide! f! Reader

♡ Genre: Harvest Moon AU, slight slow burn, fluff, slight angst, T for Teen

♡ Warnings: Cursing, some sexual innuendos at the end, that's it

♡ Summary: Working as a home aide on a farm brings you some new trials...namely a certain attractive farmhand named San.

♡ Word Count: 9277 (im SORRY)

♡ Genre: Regular Life ; Prompt: Coworkers

This was supposed to be...a lot longer. LAMFIJGDFJKGHKJSHDF x) With both Hwa and Joong as other love interests...but I gotta learn how to restrain myself LOL. But I do have more planned with YN and San (and a little more spicy too hehe) so if you'd like to read that let me know!

it's a honker of a fic, so i really do hope you enjoy despite the plot holes LMAO

Thank you to @okiedokrie for beta'ing,,,the first draft lmaooo surprisee...its totally different lol

“Are you serious?” you mutter, standing knee-high in a mud puddle. When you decided to move out of the city and stay with an elderly man as a home nurse on his farm temporarily, you expected to get dirty. But not like this, and not that soon. The wagon was only able to take you so far before you had to walk the rest of the way since it was technically private property or whatever the guy said. You didn’t quite remember his reasoning, and it wouldn’t have been such a big deal if it hadn’t started pouring about five minutes after you started walking. Now you’re cold and wet, and mud is everywhere.

With a frustrated groan, you try and take another step, wincing at the feeling of the mud squelching in your shoes and soaking your socks through. You’re having regrets, but you’re sure the ailing older man is having worse issues than wet socks and shoes and you power through. After a long and gruelling walk, you finally see the cream building and connected barn and you sigh in relief.

“Oh, man, you look a mess,” a voice is heard from behind you and you shriek, dropping down to the ground and clutching at your heart. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you. YN, right?”

You nod miserably. “Yeah. This is Aria farm?” You punctuate it with a sniff as you try to regain your dignity.

The man laughs, much more high-pitched than you expected. “Yup. I’m the farmhand, San.” He holds out his hand. “Need a hand up?”

With a shaky smile, you nod, grabbing his hand and letting him pull you up. His grip is strong, warm, and calloused, and you shoo away any unwanted thoughts. “Got caught in the rain?” San smiles apologetically like he was the one who brought the showers down upon you.

“Yeah, I sure did.” You return the smile with a weak one of your own. “Got dumped at the end of the road by the wagon, and not five minutes later I got poured on.”

San winces. “Oh, well, sorry that had to be your first welcome here. I’ll give that guy a talk later—he means no harm, just likes to play pranks.”

You grunt, not caring all that much about the villagers in the town, pranks or not. You have no doubt that the wagoneer meant no harm, nor that the villagers aren’t nice, but most of your days will be spent cooped up with the old farmer in his house. Plus, you decided to move away from the city to get away from people and let your introversion take over.

It takes a moment for you to realise he’s expecting you to keep up a conversation. “How is Mr Takeru doing?”

San shrugs, his eyes continuously flickering back to you. “He’s doing fairly well, all things considered. The fall left him physically incapable of a lot, but his energy hasn’t dwindled at all.” There’s a fondness in his voice. “He’s happy to hear you’ll be coming. He loves having people around and his kids barely visit. To no fault of their own, of course. They’re all on different islands, farming as well and it’s hard to get away.”

You hum. You’ve heard of their family situation, how Takeru’s kids all followed in his footsteps to become farmers, and that their children also went on to become farmers. It’s interesting, and you sometimes wonder if it’s something they all wanted. “It’ll be nice for him to have someone around,” you tell an attentive San. “It would’ve been great for him if some of his family could see him, but I’m sure he’s excited anyway.”

As you talk to San, you don’t realise how quickly the two of you walk until you are already at the house’s porch. San opens the door, stepping in, but you hesitate for just a moment. You almost turn tail if it wasn’t for the warm smile San offers.

“Don’t worry, I promise Mr Takeru is super nice. And I’ll always be happy to keep you company.” His eyes crinkle as his smile widens even further, and you can’t help but feel your face warm at how sweet he is.

“I’ll have to hold you to that, then.”

-

“Are you going to the flower festival tomorrow?” San catches you right when you go out to grab the mail.

You tilt your head as you flip through the many letters. Nothing of too much importance, just a couple of notices from the local stores. You see a letter from one of Mr Takeru’s kids and you smile at the sight of it before realising you hadn’t responded to San. “The what?”

“Flower festival,” San repeats himself, a smile growing on his face. It always seems to be there when you see the farmhand. “It’s a holiday where couples enjoy the cherry blossoms together and all.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “San, I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m not quite part of the couples demographic.” The farmhand’s eyes sparkle at your joke, but his gaze does not waver.

“You could go with me,” he suggests and you choke on the spot. “I’m being serious! It’s a really nice time and it’d be a shame if you missed it.”

You sigh, glancing behind you. “We’ll see. I might be busy tomorrow.”

San still smiles triumphantly at your answer. “If you do decide to come, I’ll meet you at the church grounds at seven.” And before you can even respond, he winks and walks away, making sure to flex his back muscles. If you can’t rip your eyes away, that's your own problem.

As the clock ticks closer and closer to six, you get more and more antsy. You’re still debating whether to go. One part of you wants to go so he won’t wait in vain, but the other part of you wants to avoid all sorts of contact with people. Every time you go and buy groceries for Mr Takeru, the villagers all stop to stare at you. And you know it’s partly your fault for never trying to get to know them, but you really would rather stay a hermit.

But San, he was different. Although you’ve only been here for a few weeks, San seems to have taken an interest in you. He’s always finding an excuse to talk to you, be it lunch break or asking to pass a message to Mr Takeru. You’re not quite sure what his motive is, but you’re not complaining. He’s good-looking, kind, and makes an effort to get to know you. Perhaps you should return the kindness.

When the clock strikes half past six, you know it’s the last moment before you can make your decision. After a moment’s hesitation, you call up the stairs “Mr Takeru, I’ll be going out! Do you have everything you need?”

You can hear the smile in his voice as he responds, “Mmh, I’ve got my cane so I’m all good. Going to the festival, I see?”

“Bye, Mr Takeru” You roll your eyes good-naturedly even if he can’t see it, grabbing your bag and practically launching yourself out the door. If you run, you’ll make it just in time.

You’re sure you look crazy, running down the streets while attempting to pull your hair away from your face to no avail, but time is of the essence. You manage to smile at the villagers who wave at you, but you’re panting hard and you think your legs might fall off as you take the church steps three at a time.

As you catch your breath, you can see San out of the corner of your eye approaching with the biggest smile you’ve seen on his face. “You came!”

You open your mouth to respond but all that comes out is a hack from the lack of air in your lungs. San laughs, reaching over to pat you on the back as you take a moment to catch your breath. “My gosh, I am not cut out for running,” you gasp, finally straightening up and brushing your hair out of your face.

San’s hands slow as he shifts them lower to rest at the small of your back. “Well, I’m glad you made it anyway. Come sit with me and my friends. They’ll be happy to see you came.”

Without giving you a moment to protest, San sweeps you away towards the back corner of the courtyard. The two people sitting on a blanket you recognise—the farmer you buy your groceries from and the bartender who walks past Mr Takeru’s farm on the way to work in the afternoon, and neither of their names you ever got.

“Guys, this is YN,” San introduces you and you give a little wave as they chorus your name with ‘hi’s. “This is Wooyoung, and that’s Yunho.” He points to the bartender and the farmer respectively.

“Good to finally get your name,” Yunho smiles at you, a bright smile lighting up his face. “You’ve been shopping with me for what, two weeks now?”

You laugh awkwardly. “Yeah, just about.” You silently beg for the topic to change because San is sensitive about how you buy groceries elsewhere since a storm destroyed most of the farm’s crops. “What does one do at the flower festival?”

Wooyoung and Yunho exchange a glance between each other, their eyes soft. “Generally couples sit together and watch the flowers fall and talk about each other. At the end, you pick up a blossom and blow it after making a wish,” Yunho explains, the corner of his lips pulling up as Wooyoung leans into his body. “I’m here with Wooyoung.”

He immediately realises this is not the best thing to say as your face heats up and your brain immediately goes into overdrive. “You don’t have to be in a romantic relationship to go, of course!” San immediately rectifies, his hands shooting out to smack Yunho in the shoulder. “I always go with friends.”

A smile pulls at your lips even though you’re still a little awkward at the revelation. “Well, thank you for inviting me anyway,” you bow slightly. “It’s nice to get a little scenery difference.”

Wooyoung laughs at that. “Yeah, I don’t think I’ve seen you away from the farm since you arrived, barring your visits to Marimba and Horn Ranches.” You duck your head shyly and San swoops to your rescue.

“Not that you’re any better, Wooyoung. All you do is work and go home to sleep,” San teases. “Except when Yunho makes you go outside, of course.”

Both Wooyoung and Yunho immediately blush red and you laugh at the sight. “You two are cute together though,” you compliment. “Hopefully one day I can have a relationship like yours.” You miss the soft gaze sent your way by San, but neither Wooyoung nor Yunho do and they exchange a look before smiling back at you.

“I’m sure you will one day.”

-

It’s pouring buckets out there and even San has taken the day off. There’s nothing to do on the farm other than feed the animals, and the day before San had put extra food in their buckets for that occasion exactly. Mr Takeru is fast asleep and all you’re doing is sitting in the living room and trying to focus on reading. But it’s not coming to you.

With a sigh, you put your book back down and move to stand near the window, staring at the bleary landscape. That’s when you see it. A little glimmer of light right by the bending tomato plants. You narrow your eyes, unsure if your eyes are playing tricks on you, but then it happens again. Now you’re sure something is out there, and against your better judgement, you’re going to find out what it is.

With another glance towards Mr Takeru, who doesn’t seem to be waking up anytime soon, you pull on a raincoat and open the front door. The wind almost slams it shut but you catch it just in time, slipping out of the house and closing it gently instead.

The wind is practically bullying you as you make your way slowly over to the garden. When you finally reach the plants, you squint but can’t seem to find anything, but you swear you saw something. Your eyes dart around to see if you can find it again, and another sparkle catches your eye further down the road.

You cast a glance back at the house, inner debate raging in you. But at heart, you’re forever a toddler and you go chase after the pretty lights.

The farther you go, the more you’re starting to regret your choices. But you’re too far to find your way back—although you’ve been here for almost a month now, you’re not all that well-versed in where things are around this island. Yet another point into why you should’ve just stayed at the farm.

With a groan, you take another step closer, making your way through a tunnel of trees. The rain only seems to get heavier but you can still see the faint sparkling but not much around it and you step closer.

Suddenly, the rain melts away to reveal a little grove and a giant tree standing tall and proud. The only thing that tells you were just in the rain is the fact that you’re soaking wet. You blink, step back, and the rain falls around you again. Another step forward, and the sun is shining again.

You rub your eyes, sure you must be going crazy. But the sunny area is still in front of your eyes. As much as your brain is screaming at you to turn back and make your way home, your curiosity gets the better of you. You take a few steps closer, marvelling at the old spring on either side of the stone pathway you’re on.

You’ve heard of the stories of the fae and magic surrounding this island, mostly from Mr Takeru himself, but you always chalked it up to him being old, as much as you thought it would be nice for it to be real. And here you are, standing in the middle of what can only be called magic surrounding you.

The area looks almost unoccupied, with more of the sparkles that drew you out of the house in the first place flitting around. You take a couple of steps closer when someone steps out from behind the tree. “What are you doing here?” You don’t recognise the figure standing in front of you, with perfectly coiffed hair and a frown upon his pouting lips.

You blink at him. “Uh, I was taking a walk and ended up here. What is this place?”

The blonde man blinks at you. “You don’t know? It’s the Goddess Spring, home of the tree that powers our island. Though…I guess you are new here.”

You frown, cocking your head. “Sorry if I seem rude, but I don’t think I’ve met you. Who are you?”

The stranger’s piercing blue eyes widen and he laughs, waving his hands. “Oh my, I can’t believe I forgot my manners. I’m Park Seonghwa, son of the mayor of this little island. My father speaks highly of you and how well you care for Mr Takeru.”

His hand is firm and warm although his palms are softer than San’s. “Nice to meet you, Seonghwa,” you smile at him warmly. “Your father speaks proudly of you as well.”

You can’t believe you haven’t made the connection. Seonghwa isn’t the spitting image of his father per se, but they look similar enough to each other, especially in their eyes. Mayor Gil and Seonghwa both have the same stare.

The young man smiles again, shaking his head. “My father can be passionate. Now that he’s older, he tells me he has less grievances against the world. But I am curious—what are you doing here? It’s still pouring out there.”

You shrug, a little embarrassed. “I was just following some…uh…sparkles.”

“Sparkles? Nothing else?” Seonghwa’s facial expression shifts to one of curiosity. Your eyebrows furrow at his intensity and his features soften as he chuckles. “Ah, I don’t mean to alarm you. This island has a rich history behind this little grove. Are you busy?”

You shrug, glancing behind you. “No, not really. I’m not really in the mood to walk all the way back to the farm in the rain. I’m a big history fan anyway.”

Seonghwa shrugs, gesturing to the stone bench up further on the stone pathway. “Come and sit then. The story starts with this tree.”

To be honest, you don’t understand much of what Seonghwa explains. Something about bells and trees powering the island, and how only the line of mayors and Mr Takeru’s family can see the magic. But Seonghwa seems so passionate about it, and you have no reason to disbelieve it, not when you’ve witnessed the grove itself, so you just smile and nod and do your best to comprehend.

Seonghwa is finishing up his story of how Mr Takeru single-handedly revived the island when he takes a glance at his watch and gasps. “I’ve kept you far too long,” he sighs, shaking his head. “I’m sure the rain has stopped, you should make your way back to the farm before it gets dark.”

Your brows furrow, glancing up to see the sun getting close to the west. “Oh, crap,” you gasp, “I need to start dinner. Do…do you happen to know the way back to the farm? I didn’t quite see how I got here.”

Seonghwa chuckles. “Yes, you can just take a left out here and follow the path down the mountain. It should lead you to the pond right by Aria Farm. I’ll see you around town, then.”

You nod, promising him to try and find time to visit him in town before booking your way out of the grove. He was right, the rain had slowed to a drizzle that hardly bothered you. You’re making your way down the mountain, rushing so much you can hardly enjoy the view you missed on your way up.

As soon as the blue roof of the farmhouse comes into vision, you can’t help but smile to yourself at the familiar sight. Your little adventure was fun but now it’s time to go back. As you unlock the door and swing it open, your vision is immediately blocked by a firm, warm chest and strong arms wrapping around you in a tight hug. “YN, where were you?”

San’s worried voice reaches your ears and your initial shock wears off as you tilt your head back to look at him. “I went on a walk and found some grove near the mountains,” you explain honestly, and San’s eyebrows raise into his bangs.

“A walk? YN, are you insane? I came around to make sure you both were okay and Mr Takeru told me he didn’t know where you had gone. It was a crazy storm out there too. You have to be careful, YN. I– you could’ve gotten hurt.”

San’s arms tighten around your shoulders and your face heats up as you pat his back awkwardly. “Well, I agree it was pretty stupid of me, but I’m fine and here! I won’t do it again, I promise,” you try and cheer him up while also doing your best to wriggle out of his grip. It’s embarrassing for you to be so close, you’re sure he can feel the heat radiating off of your ears. He’s too hot for you to be this close to and you need some space before you combust.

You finally manage to untangle yourself, offering a smile to ease the distance between the two. “How long were you waiting for me, anyway?”

San sighs, running a hand through his dark locks. “Maybe just about three hours? I think I was about ten minutes away from going out to look for you myself. I mean, the rain only stopped an hour ago, it’s understandable I was worried.”

He’s trying to convince himself more so than you, but you can’t really blame him. You would’ve been the same way in his shoes. You try not to think about what would happen if he had suddenly disappeared in the rain. “No, I really am sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you,” you shake your head, glancing away in guilt. “I just thought something was out there and went on a wild goose chase. Turns out it was just my eyes playing tricks on me. But in the grove I went to, I finally met the mayor’s son.”

San’s expression shifts to one of understanding. “Seonghwa? He’s nice, I’m glad you’ve met him.” He finally smiles back, softly, but shakes his head as if remembering where he is. “Er, I suppose I should let you go have dinner now. You must be hungry.”

He slips out of the door before you can even respond, the thought of inviting him for dinner only popping into your head as he’s already halfway down to the river, his form glowing gold in the sunset. You poke your head out to call for him, but your nerves get the better of you and you just watch him grow smaller and smaller in the distance.

“You should go for it.” A hoarse voice interrupts your swirling thoughts and you turn back to see Mr Takeru leaning on his cane and smiling kindly at you. “You’re young, and pretty. Anyone can see clear as day that San likes you. You know, he was quite worried when you were out.”

You swear there is steam radiating off of your face. “Ah, Mr Takeru, don’t get my hopes up,” you laugh. “There’s no way San sees me as much more than a friend. Now, let’s get dinner started, no?”

Mr Takeru just sighs, a melancholy smile on his face. “You should run right after him before it’s too late, you know. But yes, let’s have dinner YN.”

-

You stand in front of the door of the mayor’s house, debating whether to walk in or not. When you received an invitation for lunch from Seonghwa earlier this morning, he had assured you that you could walk right in without knocking, but you felt a little too awkward to do that.

“What are you doing here?” A sharp voice startles you and you jump, looking over your shoulder guiltily. A silver-haired man with sharp eyes and thick robes gazes at you with an uninterested expression on his face.

“Ah– Seonghwa invited me for lunch here,” you explain, glancing back at the door.

Before you can say anything, the strange, eccentric man brushes past you, the many bracelets and necklaces he has on jingling. “Well, then. He’s up to one of his schemes to get me to socialise again. He invited me for lunch too. Come on in.”

He swings the door open, stepping inside the house and you stare at him with wide eyes before scurrying after him. The outside of the house is filled with flowers lining the stepping stones, but the inside of the house is more mature in decor, with dark oak tables and brown wallpaper. The stranger glances at you, having noticed your eyes wandering the decor and he laughs shortly. “Quite the juxtaposition of interior and exterior, no? Mayor Gil’s late mother had designed the inside and so the mayor hasn’t had the heart to change it.”

You’re about to respond when one of the doors to your right slams open, revealing Seonghwa standing there with messy hair and a sullen look on his face. “Sorry, I’m going to have to cancel lunch. My father has fallen ill with cow fever. YN, I’m so sorry to have to turn you away but I don’t want you to catch it, or Mr Takeru for that matter.” He heaves a sigh, then turns to the stranger. “Hongjoong, could you do me a favour and bring me some medicine?”

The man—Hongjoong—nods sharply and spins on his heel, striding out the door without a moment’s hesitation. You falter just a moment, shooting Seonghwa a quick smile and ‘hope your father feels better soon’ before following Hongjoong’s steps out the door.

On your way home, you can’t help but wonder…what on earth is cow fever? You’ve never heard of such a thing. You’re too lost in thought you almost don’t see San waving at you from afar. “Ah, hey San!” you greet him with a quick wave and a smile. “Did you have lunch yet?”

A shrug is your answer and you laugh at San’s nonchalance. “Nah, I was just about to head out for some, though. How was your lunch?”

You shake your head. “It had to be cancelled. Mayor Gil came down with the cow fever, so we decided to reschedule.”

A pout forms on San’s face. “Well, I hope he gets better. Cow fever is no joke. But hey, since you didn’t have lunch, would you like to join me?”

Although it would mean you’d have to walk back to town, you can’t say ‘no’ to the smile on San’s face. “Sure, I’d be happy to,” you grin. “Inn? Do you want to get sandwiches and eat on the dock?”

The smile on San’s face widens. “It’s almost like you’re reading my mind. Let’s eat on the dock.”

Without another word, he hooks his arm around yours and pulls you in the direction of the barn. “Ah– San, the town is the other way, you know.”

San laughs again, loud and bright. “Yeah, I know. We’ll take Emma.”

It takes a moment to register. “The cow? San, are you crazy?” you gasp, but there’s still a giggle present in your tone. “First, we have a horse. Second, I don’t even know how to ride a horse, much less a cow!”

“That doesn’t matter,” San grins impossibly wider, his dimples deep. “Emma’s sweet, she’s an easier ride than Princess. Plus, I want Princess to have some more bonding time with her foal. Come on, I promise it’ll be fun.”

You groan good-naturedly but can’t keep the smile off your face as the two of you approach the well-mannered cow. “Fine,” you agree. “How do I get on?”

Instead of answering your question like a normal human being, San places his hands on your waist. For a moment, you’re lost in his firm grip, but it doesn’t last long as he lifts you and places you on Emma’s back, a shriek emitting from your mouth. “San!” you laugh, looking down to see San’s eyes crinkling as he chuckles and pats your thigh. “Warn me next time!”

“So there’ll be a next time?”

“You’re focusing on the wrong thing,” you scold lightly, turning away so he won’t see your flushing cheeks. “Come on, let’s go. I’m hungry.”

You can hear San laugh to himself one more time before hopping up behind you and wrapping an arm around your waist. Immediately, your mind is taken back to that rainy day almost a month ago when he hugged you and your cheeks burn even more. “Hold on tight,” San hums, leaning forward till his lips are right by your ear.

And once again, he doesn’t give you time to mentally prepare before Emma runs down the path towards the town. You’re terrified, hands gripping so tightly on San’s that you’re sure your nails will leave indents. But somehow, you’re enjoying yourself taking a wild ride on a cow of all things. Maybe it helps that San’s body is pressed against yours and you can feel the heat radiating off him.

You’re practically in a daze when you reach the town, San lifting you off Emma much more gently than when he put you on her. “You good?” he asks, and you snort, shaking your head fondly.

“God, I can’t believe I did that. I can’t believe you made me do that. But yes, I’m good. More than good, even. That was fun.” You chuckle mostly to yourself, brushing your hair out of your eyes. “Come on, let’s eat.”

It’s your turn to grab San’s warm hand and pull him in the direction of the inn, the little bell tinkling as you step inside. Mai smiles at the two of you, waving you both over to her station. “Hello, you two. Looking for some lunch this fine morning?”

“Yep,” San leans on the counter with his elbow, ignoring the glare the head chef, Chihaya, sends him. Mai hides her smile extremely badly. “Could I get the tuna sandwich? And whatever YN’s getting.”

Your head snaps towards him. “Oh, no, no, San, don’t worry about it. I can pay for my own,” you decline as quickly as you can, but he raises an eyebrow in response.

“It’s my treat, YN. Don’t fight me on this, I’ll win. I invited you out, so it’s only right I pay.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “But–”

“No buts, okay? Don’t worry, I’m perfectly capable of paying for the both of us. Let me do this, YN. Just order, okay?” San holds up a hand, and you know he’s won.

With a sigh, you concede. “Fine. But next time, I’ll pay, and no buts.” San raises his hands in defeat. Satisfied, you turn back to Mai. “Could I get an egg sandwich?”

Mai chuckles, writing down your order in her little notebook. “It’s cute to see you two together. Poor San has been lonely for a long time.”

“We’re not dating,” you quickly correct her, face heating up in embarrassment.

“And I’m not lonely!” San interjects, pout on his face, and his cuteness in that moment makes you forget how awkward you were about Mai’s statement.

“Okay,” Mai chirps, clearly disbelieving the two of you, but before you can refute any longer, Chihaya stalks over, handing the two of you nicely wrapped sandwiches.

“Mai, stop bothering them. You two, go eat. See you later,” he shuts down the conversation, waving the two of you away.

Both San and you exchange a look before quickly leaving the inn, Mai’s sweet giggles trailing behind the two of you until the door shuts behind you. “Well then. Dock?”

You snort, nodding. “Dock.”

You skip your way through town to the dock, empty aside from the local fisherman about to head inside for his own lunch break. The wind isn’t too harsh today, something you appreciate so that the sea’s waves don’t get close to your feet. Neither you nor San feel the need to talk as you work through your lunches, the food delicious enough to keep your mouths occupied.

You finish your sandwich much earlier than San, leaning back on your arms as you sneak a peek at his side profile while he continues to eat, unaware. Something about his focused gaze on his sandwich seems to draw your gaze. As you wait, you can’t help but think back to Mai’s words, unable to keep your mind from daydreaming about Choi San.

Ever since that fateful day in the rain, the hug he had given you keeps popping up in your mind at the most inopportune times…like right now. You can already feel heat rising to your face once again and you quickly focus your eyes on the horizon to do your best to rid yourself of such thoughts.

You can’t afford to like San, not like that. Not when you have no idea what you’re going to do after this job, or even where you’ll go. This little island feels more like home than the big city did, but you don’t know where your life could fit in here. Not when it feels like everyone already has their place in the town.

“What are you thinking about?” You blink yourself back to reality, where San has finished his sandwich and is looking at you with such a fond look in his eyes. “You look lost in your head.”

You shrug, bringing your legs up to your chest and resting your chin on your knees. “I don’t know…” you murmur, a melancholy smile playing on your lips. “Just the future, I guess. What I’ll do later.”

San hums, his hand coming to rest close to your own, and you push back thoughts of grasping his worn, warm palm. “I get it. Before I started working for Mr Takeru, I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do either. I bounced from ranch to ranch, even started over at Marimba Farm for a time until Mr Takeru offered me a job.”

“Is that where you met Yunho?”

At your question, San chuckles. “Yeah. He hired me at Marimba when it was first starting out, then recommended me to Mr Takeru after he was able to manage it with the help of Wooyoung. Yunho is one of my oldest friends here.”

“It must be nice to have that close of a friend,” you state, more to yourself than anything, but San hears you anyway, his brows furrowing with light concern. “Say…who’s Hongjoong? I met him briefly at Seonghwa’s before I had to go home. I’ve never seen him around before.”

San hums, tilting his head so he can look into your eyes more clearly. You fight to keep the blush of your cheeks. “Hongjoong runs the clinic, and does fortune telling on the side. He’s descended from a long line of wizards, and his paternal family has run the clinic for a very long time. Why?”

You shrug. “I heard something about him getting medicine for Mayor Gil. Thought it might be interesting to talk to him about the island’s medical practices. Since I’m a nurse and all.” You laugh, shaking your head. “Maybe I’m a little curious too. He dresses nothing like the other islanders.”

San chuckles alongside you. “His robes are the traditional wear for the wizards of this island. He does quite enjoy talking about the history behind them, so you should ask him about it some time. Any other trivia I can answer for you?”

His tone is light, teasing, and you snort and shove at his shoulder. “Shut up, can’t a girl be curious? I get it, you don’t like me.”

“You and I both know that’s the furthest thing from true.” San shakes his head, and you freeze, aware of what he’s implying.

“San–” You’re unsure of what to say. “I’m–”

“You don’t have to say anything,” San laughs, leaning in to tap his forehead against yours. “Not right now, at least. I’ll give you time to think about it. Now come on, let’s get back to the farm.”

Before you can blink, he’s already on his feet and holding out a hand to help you stand. After a moment's hesitation, you reach out as well, placing your hand in his. As he pulls you up, he leans forward to press his lips against the side of your head and you duck your head, heat rushing to your face.

The walk home is silent, but not uncomfortably so. Instead of riding Emma back, San lets her amble along the path on her own. You walk side by side, fingertips not quite brushing, stealing glances at each other and soft smiles. Maybe it's because he finally put words to what the two of you have, but you can’t help but wonder exactly why both of you are suddenly so open with how much you care for each other.

As he walks you to the front door of the farmhouse, he clears his throat, obviously wanting to say something. You turn to him expectantly, taking note of the nervousness in his eyes. “YN…” he mumbles, a far cry from the confident man he was on the dock. “No matter how you end up feeling, please don’t leave the island because of it. Everyone here likes you, even though you don’t really know them well. And Mr Takeru is terribly fond of you. Don’t let me influence your life too much, okay?”

You sigh, body visibly relaxing. “Of course not, San. I’ve grown to love it here. I don’t think even you can keep me away.”

San chuckles at your feeble attempt at a joke, out of pity, you think. “Okay, okay. Have a good day, YN.”

You close the door behind you, smiling to yourself subconsciously. “Miss YN, is that you?” Mr Takeru calls out, and you shake your head, willing your brain to clear up before quickly making your way to your employer.

“I’m here, Mr Takeru!”

-

You awkwardly stand at the bar, waiting for Wooyoung to finish up with a customer. The bar is the last place you would usually be, but you’re at a loss. San’s words have been replaying in your head since that fateful day on the dock, and you haven't spoken to him since. Not that he’s bothered by it. True to his word, San had been giving you space, only exchanging soft, sweet, ‘good morning’s and gentle smiles.

As each day passed, you knew what your answer would be, but then a letter arrived today from your agency back home. A reminder your contract was almost up. You knew you had to make a decision, fast.

“All right, what’s going on in your head, missy?” Wooyoung’s voice breaks you out of your swirling thoughts. “You look like you’re about to be sick, and I don’t want to have to take you to the doctor’s.”

You open your mouth, close it again, and then reopen. “Wooyoung, do you know if the clinic has any job openings?”

Wooyoung furrows his brow, frowning. “Well, you’ve picked the worst person to ask this question to. I’ve never gone to the clinic before, and Hongjoong never comes in here. But they might. Hongjoong’s grandfather recently retired, so as Mr Van takes his role, there might be a job opening soon. I think Mao was thinking about volunteering there, though. You’d have to talk to Hongjoong about it. Why?”

You hesitate, eyes moving from side to side. No one is close enough to hear you over the music. “Did San talk to you at all in the past week?”

Understanding dawns in Wooyoung’s eyes. “Ah. He told us what happened, but let me hear what you think of it. All our regulars are here already so I won't have to make any more drinks for a while.”

A sigh makes its way out of your throat. “My contract with Mr Takeru is ending soon. The easy answer is to renew, but what about after that? I don’t know where I could work, other than the hospital, and if Mao wants to work there, I don’t want to take that opportunity away from him.”

Wooyoung laughs. “I said he would volunteer, not work. He’s the fisherman’s son, the sea is in his blood. But even if you don’t work at the clinic, San would probably be happy to support you until you find something.”

You shake your head tiredly. “But I don’t want him to. He already works so hard, and I don’t want to make him feel obligated to help me, not when I’m capable of supporting myself and it’s just me overthinking.”

There’s a pause, and then Wooyoung dissolves into laughter. “YN, he would be helping you because he wants to. Hell, any of us would be willing to help you. Yunho could use someone to help him on his own farm, I’m sure Seonghwa would like to have a secretary, hell, I could use you as a server. You’re worrying too much about it. Things will work out if you want them to.”

You wince. “I know, I know. I just worry, you know.”

“Well, don’t,” Wooyoung teases. “Just talk to San. He’ll understand.”

“As always, your advice is impeccable,” you smile. “Thanks, Wooyoung, really.”

“It’s what I do,” Wooyoung winks, sliding a glass over. “Have a drink before you go, okay? I’m not getting paid to gossip, you know.”

You squint at him. “Don’t you own this bar?” All Wooyoung does is smile knowingly and nod towards the cup of…something. You take a tentative sip, and then another, and then it hits. The sweet but tangy flavour with a hint of bitterness from the alcohol. “Oh, this is good! What is it?”

“Raspberry cocktail,” he answers, way too proud of his creation. “I perfected the recipe today, as well as a few others. You should try those ones too.”

You laugh, downing the rest of your drink. “Sure, sure, go ahead. I’m almost never here anyway.”

Wooyoung practically vibrates in excitement, moving around the kitchen in a dash to prepare your next drink. You’re on your third drink and too busy laughing at Wooyoung’s antics to notice the presence behind you. When Wooyoung slides you your next drink, you ask, “Which one is this?”

“This one is your last drink,” a firm voice speaks up and you snap your head around, startled, to come face to face with San. “You still have work tomorrow, YN, you can't get too drunk.”

“Hey, Sanah,” you beam up at him, unbothered by his close proximity. You blame it on the alcohol. His eyes soften as he looks down at you, a smile tugging at his lips. “I was just talking about you!”

“Oh, were you?” San leans down, pressing his forehead against yours. “All good, I hope. Come on, finish your drink and let’s get you home.”

Without much further prompting, you down the rest of your drink and wave at Wooyoung, who is watching the two of you with an amused expression plastered on his face. “Bye, now,” he sing-songs, “get home safe.”

San rolls his eyes good naturedly, nodding at Wooyoung and sliding some money over to pay for your few drinks. “Have a good night, Youngah.” He wraps an arm around your shoulders, helping you stand and pulling you out of the inn. “What am I gonna do with you, huh?”

You hum, turning your head to press your face into his shoulder. “I dunno,” you mumble into him, breathing in the smell of his soap. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do if I end up out of a job. You’re too perfect, I can’t drag you down.” You don’t mean to say all this, but the alcohol is still coursing through your system and the courage still sits in your stomach.

San intakes a sharp breath. “What do you mean by that?”

You shrug. “You have a job, a life here. I’m here temporarily. When my contract ends next month, what am I supposed to do? I don’t want to go back to the city and leave you here, but I don’t have any idea what I’m supposed to do here.”

San sighs, letting his head sit atop yours, his cheek pressed against your hair. “Well, we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. I wouldn’t mind if you went back to the city if you visited. I wouldn’t mind if you stayed with me until you get back on your feet if you decide to end your contract. Hell, I’m sure Mr Takeru would be happy to employ you on his own dime, or someone else in town would take you on. But I’m glad you came to me, okay? I want to help you.”

You can feel your eyes stinging, and you curse yourself for drinking so much that it makes you too emotional for your liking. “Okay,” you concede with a soft voice. “Thank you, San.”

He presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “Of course, YN,” he smiles, and although you can’t see it, you hear it in his voice. “Now let’s talk later, okay? You need to go to bed.”

“Later sounds good,” you sigh, letting your body weight lean even more against San’s broad shoulders. “See you later.”

“Not right now,” San chuckles. “We’re almost home, come on. As much as it’s safe on the island, it’s chilly tonight, and I think you’d probably prefer sleeping in a bed.”

“Hmm, bed,” you repeat, yawning. “I like the idea.”

“I’m sure you do.”

The rest of the night is mostly calm, save for San convincing you to go to the bathroom to change, and not undressing in front of him. As he helps you brush your hair as you sit on your bed, you can’t help but to reach up and put your hands on his waist.

“You know, I really like you,” you mumble. The alcohol has almost faded, but the tiredness has hit and you’re just as loopy as if you were still drunk. “I hope you know that.”

San chuckles, his hands slowing to a stop in your hair. “I do, YN. I do.” He leans down, pressing another kiss to the top of your head. “Get some rest, okay? I’ll see you in the morning.”

He turns to leave, but not until you grab his wrist. “Wait! What about here?” you pout, pointing to your lips, and San arches an eyebrow, a smile toying at the corners of his lips and a laugh threatening to escape.

“Maybe tomorrow, if you ask me, okay? Good night, YN.” And with that, he leaves you to sleep, a smile plastered onto your face as you dream of his touch.

When you reawaken, you feel fully rested, yawning as you slip out of bed quickly and easily. A quick glance at your clock tells you it’s almost noon and you curse yourself for drinking so heavily. You’re never letting Wooyoung talk you into such a thing again.

As you make your way out of your room, you find Mr Takeru sitting on the couch. “Miss YN, come sit with me, okay? I want to talk to you.”

You pause, heart freezing. “Ah– sure, Mr Takeru. Nothing bad, I hope.”

The older man chuckles, waving his hand. “Of course not. This is something both Wooyoung and San have come to me about.”

You blink. “Ah.” You’re going to kill Wooyoung, and think about killing San (You’re too attached to him to follow though).

Mr Takeru laughs again. “I said it wasn’t bad, child, don’t look like you’re about to faint, please. San had expressed his affection for you to me, and Wooyoung has talked about how, in his words, ‘both of them are dumb as rocks and won’t date yet’. I’m quite aware that your contract with me is ending soon.” He pauses to take in a breath. “I would like to offer you a job with me off contract. That means you won’t be with your agency anymore.”

You blink at him. “I…I’m sorry, it’s a lovely offer, and I’m quite inclined to take it, but can I ask why? I mean, it would be cheaper for you to hire from the agency, and I’m sure I could figure something else out.”

“Miss YN, I’m sure you’re well aware I am not in much need of money. San runs the farm beautifully, and even though he is paid generously, the earnings far exceed what I need. And, as I have talked to Mayor Gil, Seonghwa, and Hongjoong, the clinic is happy to contract you so that in the case that I no longer require your services, you may work with them.”

You blink at him, your lower lip quivering. It takes you a moment to compose yourself, and Mr Takeru waits patiently. “The offer is so generous, and I would be a fool to decline it. I really do appreciate it, Mr Takeru.”

Your boss smiles. “Don’t worry about it, okay? Think of it as a favour to San as well. He’s worked for me for so long, he’s like one of my own grandchildren.” He pauses, letting out a yawn. “Now, go find him and tell him the good news, okay? I’d like to take a long nap.”

With a moment to compose yourself, you stand from the couch. “Thank you again, Mr Takeru,” you repeat sincerely. “I’ll prep lunch and put it in the fridge for when you wake up, okay?”

He waves you away, already getting ready to lay down on the couch. “Don’t worry about it. Mayor Gil is coming around to have lunch with me, and he’ll bring me something from the inn.” With another yawn, you know your conversation is over, and you spin on your heel and race out of the house, only one thing on your mind.

“San, are you in here?” you call out as you reach the ajar barn doors. “I need to talk to you.”

“I’ll be right down, just filling up the dispenser.” You can hear San’s voice from the loft and you look up, squinting through the sunrays filtering through the holes in the roof. The carpenters have been working on fixing that before the next rain.

Your gaze is drawn away by San climbing down the ladder, an extra bale of hay perched on his shoulders. As he turns around and you catch a glimpse of his face, your breath catches in your throat.

There wasn't ever a time where you thought sweat and grime on a person could be attractive…at least until right at this very moment. Sweat is glistening on his face, dripping off his cheekbones and chin, and all you can think about is swiping your tongue over his lips to taste it. The sight of it only serves to remind you of your drunken request to San, and his one condition that you ask him about it the next day.

“YN? Is there something you wanted to ask me?”

You blink up at him, eyes wide. “Can I get my kiss now?”

That was not what was supposed to come out of your mouth, but it’s too late to rectify it, so you’re left looking up at a dumbfounded San. The silence goes on for just a tad too long and you’re too embarrassed to face him now, so you turn on your heel and start to exit the barn, hopefully to drown your sorrows and yourself in the hot spring.

Before you can even step foot onto the threshold, however, San grabs your arm and gently tugs you into his warm chest. “Now wait just a moment,” he hums, chest vibrating against your back. His smell fills your mind and you tilt your gaze up to see him looking right back at you with such warmth in his eyes. “I didn’t give you your kiss yet.”

“Oh–” is all you manage to squeak out before San’s lips are on yours and you immediately melt into the kiss. His arm pulls you even closer against his body, his lips soft and inviting. “San–”

He doesn’t give you a moment to speak, his mouth capturing every sound escaping past your lips. You can feel every breath against your lips, his tongue pressing against the seam of your lips. Slowly, you part your lips for him and he wastes no time to map out your mouth, taking the air out of your lungs at how desperately he kisses.

As you fall deeper into his embrace, your arms come to loop around his waist, resting by his hips as your hands grip onto his shirt. His own hands roam up and down your sides, gripping at your waist and keeping you pulled against him. One of them finds its way to your face, cupping it with a gentleness that rivals the roughness of his mouth.

You could stay here like this for hours, but your lungs disagree, and after they scream at you for some air, you finally pull away, gasping softly as you lean your forehead against San’s. “San,” you call his name again, although this time your words aren’t interrupted by his lips but your lack of air. You take in one more breath, San waiting patiently as he looks at you like you put the stars in the sky yourself. “San, I like you. And I’m sure I’m just stating the obvious, but again, I do. I want to stay here with you, and just this morning Mr Takeru has offered me a personal contract with him. That’s what I wanted to tell you.”

San laughs, his hand on your waist moving up to stroke your cheek. “I know, YN. I asked Mr Takeru to make you the offer. Or, to be more precise, I implied that he should make you the offer, and I did that because Wooyoung implied to me to do that.” He tilts his head to press a short and sweet kiss to your lips again, chuckling to himself at how you follow his lips when he pulls back.

“Of course he did,” you roll your eyes good-naturedly, nodding as you lean up on your tiptoes to try and steal another kiss. “Nothing will ever be kept secret with his big mouth. Can we go back to kissing now? It’s easier.”

You can practically see the eagerness shine to San’s eyes. Instead of an answer, he tilts his head down to meet your waiting lips. This time, though, your makeout session is sadly cut short.

“So you two are finally together?”

You’re not too embarrassed to admit you shrieked, jumping out of your skin and burying your face in San’s chest. You can hear both San and Seonghwa chuckle, San’s arm tightening around your body. “Thanks to you, Seonghwa,” San hums. “We both really appreciate your role in this.”

“It’s no problem whatsoever. And as surly as Hongjoong can be, he’s happy to have someone else on board. But I’ll let you two get back to…talking. I was just passing through to have lunch with the jeweller. Have a good day, you two.” With a wave that you see out of the corner of your eye, Seonghwa leaves.

“I’m never going back to the town hall again,” you mumble against San’s shirt. “I can’t face Seonghwa again.”

San rubs your back with a comforting hand, although you can feel his chest rumble with quiet laughter. “I’m sure he understands, YN. Plus, look on the bright side. At least he didn’t walk in on a more intimate moment.”

Your head snaps up, heat blooming in your cheeks as you slap his shoulder. “San! We’re in the barn!”

A smirk is the only warning you get before San wraps both his arms around you and hoists you into the air, ignoring your squeal. “My house is just across the creek, you know. We don’t have to be in the barn.” You swear he can see how flustered you are just by your expression, and it only seems to egg him on. His one hand moves down to hold you up by your thighs, and you don’t think your face could get any hotter. “Shall we celebrate?”

“San–” you start to decline, but then you pause, casting a glance over your shoulder. Seeonghwa is long gone, and you’re sure Mr Takeru and the Mayor will be talking for a good few hours. “...All right. But put me down!”

Laughing, San happily sets you on your feet, leaning in to press his lips against yours again. “I really am glad you decided to stay, YN. Thank you for choosing me.”

“And if given the chance, I would choose you over and over San.” You smile up at him, reaching up to cup his face and pull him in for yet another kiss. Although the future seems uncertain, you’ll be happy to navigate it with him by your side.

[archangeldyke-all]

Omg omg reader doing skincare on Sev? (Forgot to put my emoji lmao)

-🥨

GOD this is such a cute fucking idea oh my god.

men and minors dni

sevika knows that she has a simple skincare routine. she watches silco get ready every morning, mildly amused by the fact that the man uses more products than even she does-- so she knows that there's all kinds of lotions and potions out there she's never even heard of.

when she meets you, she finally gets a peek into that world.

who knew there was so much shit for your skin? sevika's only ever used bar soap and body lotion-- yes, for her face too-- and she's been fine.

but, through you, she learns there's so much more. there's muds and masks you can plaster on your face, there's serums and spfs, acids and exfoliates and moisturizers-- it's a lot.

still-- each time she presses a kiss to your soft, smooth cheek, sevika can't help but sigh at the flowery smell that clings to you.

and when she's sitting in bed beside you, reading while you watch a show and let a sheet mask soak into your face, sevika wonders what it might be like if she upgraded her skincare, a bit.

"baby." she mumbles. you turn over to look at your girlfriend.

"yeah, love?"

"does my skin need all that stuff yours does?" she asks.

you shrug. "i don't think my skin really needs a face mask once a week-- but it's fun. makes my skin all shiny and plump for a few days. you might like it babe, it's really relaxing."

so, the next time you swipe on a mud mask, you call sevika into the bathroom. "babe, come here!"

"what?" she asks, shuffling into the bathroom as she pulls her sleep shirt on.

"wanna try a mask?" you ask.

sevika smiles.

you paint it on for her, and she can't deny that she likes the cool feeling of the mud on her face, and the warm way you gently move her face with her chin pinched between your fingers.

"what now?" she asks, looking at your matching green faces in the mirror. you giggle.

"wait for it to dry 'n we'll wash it off. i can slice some cucumbers to put over your eyes, if you want the full salon experience." you tease.

but sevika seems interested, smiling and nodding sweetly. "okay."

you grin, then rush to the kitchen to scour the fridge for the veggies.

that's how it starts. it snowballs from there.

in the morning, sevika stands right by your side as you wash your face, apply your spot treatments, and rub in all your skincare for the day.

you'll do one step on your face, then turn to sevika and do the same on hers.

you guys don't have the same skin type, so some of the steps you skip on her. but it becomes both of your favorite part of your morning routine.

sevika loves feeling your hands gently massage her face, you love the sweet, trusting, way she closes her eyes and leans into your hands.

for her birthday that year, you buy her her own pots and jars of products-- things specified for the little dry patches on her nose and the pimples she gets between her boobs.

she loves it-- but she still refuses to apply it herself. half the reason she's getting into skin care in the first place is so she can feel your hands on her each morning and evening.

your night routine is a lot slower-- neither of you have anywhere you need to be.

you'll gently sway in one another's arms, sipping on whiskey or wine as you slowly, sweetly massage away the little furrow in her brow, the tension she carries in her jaw.

she sleeps like a fucking baby after-- all coated in her perfumed creams and relaxed from your touch, smushed right against you in bed.

within a year, sevika becomes a skincare expert. at work, she starts recommending products to her goons. she starts wearing the little star pimple patches you wear-- out in public and everything. she doesn't care that it contradicts her badass appearance-- she's matching with her girl. that's all that matters to her.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @realgreeniebeanie

[fiori7ura]

but strangely, he feels at home in this place

TW: body dysphoria, self-doubt, mentions of panic attacks & death, fear, depression-ish, trans max & steve, don't like, don't read.

(modern au, no upside down, max uses she/her but it changes halfway through, steve is also trans, max & steve have a brotherly bond — author is afab but on the transgender spectrum and goes through body dysphoria and confusion all the time)

→ i've been writing this on ao3, it isn't posted yet because it isn't finished, but i wanted to post what i already have on here :) it's all rough draft, so expect for there to be grammar mistakes or things nto worded correctly. there are italics galore in this, but i copy & pasted it from ao3 so it deleted the layout it was in, and my phone makes everything lag when i try and do italics on here, so, yeah, no italics, just imagine them in parts when needed lmao — read tags & warnings, thx!!

title from 'this is home' by cavetown!!

——— ★ ———

Yeah, you could say that Max never fully fit in with girls her age. She skated, hung around guys, scuffed her shoes with dirt and mud, crude sayings and drawings scribbled with black sharpie and in messy handwriting on the toes of her sneakers she got from Goodwill.

Her life was good for a while, until it wasn't. She woke up one day with panic and realization coursing through her veins, crying until her lungs gave out and she hyperventilated, screaming into her pillow.

Panic attack, Max's brain supplies from the old memory of her lessons with her school counselor, Mrs. Kelley.

Small things trigger them, and ever since Billy passed in the mall fire, they happen more than ever. Max wishes she could go back to that summer, when there were no worries in the world, before Billy died, before she and her Mom had to move into a crappy trailer park across from the Munsons.

The bad thoughts cloud Max's mind again, and she shakes her head like a wet dog coming in from the rain.

She gets up and throws on basketball shorts that come down to her knees and a threadbare, gray Hawkins Tigers shirt that she stole from Steve, her tightest, most concealing bra she owns strapped on underneath. Max shoves her hair in a haphazard low bun, taking a quick glance in the mirror, not even bothering to look for too long. Staring into her reflection is bad. It makes Max notice all the impurities and small problems about herself that makes her want to shatter the glass, break it into little pieces on the carpet below her.

Max prays that one day, she could just sink into the floor and disappear. Maybe then, things would be easier. She wouldn't have to worry about her impending doom of her crush on El and the dark thoughts that flood her mind daily, time and time again.

Max steps outside of her trailer, spotting Steve's car parked over at Eddie's. He's sitting on the porch steps, cigarette in his hand, smoke stirring out of his mouth.

She wishes to be like Steve. Wants it. Hopes for it. In her mind, he's selfless and resilient. He came out to everyone without a single trace of doubt, and everyone supported him when he said he didn't feel like a girl. That was three years ago. Max was only 12. She's now 15, drowning in her sorrows and regret.

She stumbles over the gravel that lines the ground, feet carrying her to cross the distance between the two trailers. Steve looks up from his crisp, white Nike Cortez shoes, a smile lighting his whole face up when he sees Max.

"You know those things'll kill you, right?"

Steve snorts, tilting his head like a dog. "Hello to you, too, Max. You sound like Rob, you know that?"

Max just scoffs, the smile on her face betraying the way she's trying to act. "Whatever you say, Mom. I'm not taking the blame from Dustin when you die from smoking on those cancer sticks."

"Sure," Steve says behind a smirk as he puts out his cigarette and dusts his hands off on his jeans, imaginary dirt spreading around the air. "If you're asking for a ride, just know that I'm about to be leaving. Just let me tell Eddie bye, 'kay?"

"Okay," Max echoes, laughing. "Go get your boyfriend!" She yells when Steve turns around to go inside, mimicking kissing and hugging, wrapping her hands around herself and making obnoxious smooching noises. Steve flips her off behind his back. She can almost hear the faint mumble of smart ass kid come from his mouth, which causes her to laugh even harder, head lolling back on a cackle.

——— ★ ———

They're halfway through the drive back to Steve's house when Max breaks the silence, Stevie Nicks playing low on the radio, music drifting through the speakers of his Beamer. "Could I, uh, ask you something? You gotta promise not to say anything about this conversation, because if you do, I'll blackmail you and send Eddie all the embarrassing photos of you from when you worked at Scoops."

Steve whips his head to look at Max, almost surprised look on his face as he lets out a disbelieving laugh, airy and light.

"Okay, kiddo. Shoot."

Her feet are propped up on the dash, and her pulse is rabbiting. "How did you know?"

Steve raises a questionable eyebrow towards her direction, nose wrinkling. "What d'you mean, 'know'?"

Shit, shit, shit.

"No, nevermind, actually. It's stupid," Max sighs. "It's stupid," she repeats, again and again, flipping the word around on her tongue.

"Hey, no, don't just dodge my question like that, Mayfield. Be honest. I doubt it's as stupid as you actually say it is. Spill your guts, c'mon. Like you do at those girly sleepovers of yours."

And, oh.

Girly sleepovers.

Max doesn't like that. Bile swirls in her stomach and she digs her nails into her palm, leaving crescent moons in her skin's wake, jaw clenching and teeth grinding down against each other.

Steve clearly notices he did something wrong, because he quickly pulls into his driveway and puts the car in park, unbuckling to turn and look at Max.

"What's wrong, firecracker? Tell me, please. It won't hurt to just say what's on your mind."

Max shakes her head, eyes downcast and frown placed onto her face. "When did you know you didn't want to be a girl?" Max whispers, voice small and weak sounding, even to her own ears.

Steve grabs Max's hand and holds it oh-so-gently, the angel he is.

"I always subconsciously knew when I was younger, I guess? I never wanted to wear dresses or look pretty. I wanted to feel like a boy. I always got mad when my teachers would split the class into girls and boys. I would try to go with the guys, and my teachers would usher me back into the girls side, telling me that I'm a girl, not a boy. Kids would laugh and point at me for it,"

Steve pauses, getting teary eyed.

"And I didn't fully recognize how I felt inside until after I met Robin and everybody else. I got assured that it was normal to feel like this, so then I recognized how to love myself and my body. I understood that I was a boy, that I am a boy, and I should be proud of who I am."

Max lets out a wet laugh, tears threatening to spill over and around her eyelids.

"I don't think I'm a girl, y'know, at all."

Max looks at Steve through glimmering eyes, and he pulls her into a hug, squeezing her, comfort washing over her body like a cold shower. "I'm so proud of you, Red. So, so proud. I love you, so much."

That's when the tears really start to flow. Max hugs Steve right back, laughing with hurt and love and peace and too many emotions that flood his body.

"You're the best brother I could've asked for, Steve."

They stay like that for minutes on end, time drifting together; Steve rocking Max back and forth in his arms, tears from Max staining his polo shirt.

Steve pulls back first, still holding Max's hand. "And you're the best brother I could've asked for. You're a boy, don't doubt that, Max."

Max wipes at his eyes. "Did I ever mention how much I love you, Steven Belinda Harrington?"

Steve sputters with laughter, letting go of Max's hand. "Belinda? That's the best you could come up, Mayfield? I thought I was the best brother you've ever had?"

"I'll take it back, Belinda, trust me, don't think I won't," Max laughs, punching at Steve's shoulder, not a touch of violence or hate behind it.

[sunflowersteves]

i always forget what day it is until i see what event day it is for you 😂 can i request headcanons for poe? like he keeps trying to ask the reader out but keeps getting interrupted?

also very important information: you are the bestest and ily 💕

to be honest, it’s how I keep up with what day of the week it is LMAO

poe dameron x reader

warnings: none, fluff

Poe was about to rip out his hair, a deep sigh flowing out of his mouth

all week, he’s been making dreamy eyes towards you in the briefing rooms and he felt flushed any time you spoke up—hearing the sweet sound of your voice

He knew he should’ve been paying attention to Leia, but you just looked so cute in your fly suit

Due to rey and finn’s constant nagging, he finally got the courage to ask you out

just as he was about to approach you after the meeting, one of the men in your squadron got your attention

you apologized but due to you being preoccupied, you forgot

the next day, poe ramped himself up as he walked towards you in the cantina

The only thing he was able to do that day was open his mouth before your friends barreled through and stole you away

the day after that, he got out the words “will you-“ before leia interrupted with an emergency and you looked at him with an “I’m sorry” look

A week later he hadn’t even seen you, missions upon missions got piled up as the empire retaliated to every rebel move

he saw you in the very back of the landing bay, reading a book and looking content

you were alone and he thanked the maker that no one was around the docks

you smiled when you noticed the sound of his footsteps and his heart beat so loud

“hey, fly boy.”

he rubbed the back of his neck, “hey.”

he paused for a second, his eyes trailing to the ground out of nerves.

“Hey, you were going to say something to me the other day? It seemed important.”

his eyes widened at you remembering, “yeah, um, w-well, I was wondering if you-“

before he could finish his sentence, bb8 whirled around the corner and beeping wildly in panic

he looked at you in regret before sighing, “I’m sorry. It’s an emergency.”

you just smiled, perfectly understanding the situation. “Don’t worry about it, poe.”

the next time he saw you, it had been a month later

and slowly and yet surely, his confidence got worse and worse

he thought that maybe the universe was telling him that you didn’t like him back

the notoriously constantly confident pilot was slowly turning into just a pilot

he trudged through the cantina that following night, drinking in his sorrows with his friends

“Damn, what’s got you so down in the mud?”

he glared at Rey for just a little before pulling on his hair in frustration

“I don’t think y/n likes me.”

Finn and Rey look at each other for a moment, knowing that that statement was not true

“What makes you say that?”

“I cant ever talk to them. I always get interrupted by someone or something.”

“Well, they’re alone right now. Absolutely alone.”

his head popped up so fast as he turned to look at you

And alas, you were absolutely alone with no one by your side

Rey lifted up her hands, “hey, don’t worry, we won’t stop you.”

his confidence came racing back to him with each step

“hey.”

you took a sip of your beer, “hey, poe.”

he took a good look at you—eyes sparkling and cheeks glowing beneath the din lights of the cantina

he was almost stunned by your beauty, so he opened his mouth

but with his luck, one of his friends came up to talk to him.

“Hey, poe! Great flying today, bud. You know, the next time we go on a mission we should make a bet on who-“

“For the love of god, will you go out with me?!”

His loud declaration startled you and he immediately became worried. But then, your infectious laughter burst through the room.

“Of course, fly boy. All you had to do was ask.”

[atlabeth]

I don't normally request stuff, but fluff 45 with Zuko?? 🥺

falling - zuko x reader

summary: two idiots go hiking together, romantic chaos ensues

a/n: i am so so SO sorry this took so long to come out! i had this whole thing going and then decided i hated it and rewrote it completely with a totally different premise lmao. i hope you enjoy<3

wc: 865

warning(s): none. this is pure fluff

45. “This is not what I meant when I told you to fall for me.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was simple, really.

Your boyfriend had planned an excursion for the two of you — an afternoon spent hiking up a nearby mountain; if all went well, then you would make it to the peak just in time to catch a perfect sunset, share a quiet moment together, then get back down in time before it became too dark to stay safe.

All did not go well.

“I thought you said that there was no rain in the forecast,” you said wryly, taking another step under the cover of the tree as the precipitation started to come down even harder.

“There wasn’t!” Zuko protested as he stared at the sky. “I swear, I triple-checked the weather, and it was supposed to be clear skies all day. I think the universe is against us having a day to ourselves.”

You chuckled and shrugged. “Well, if the universe is against us, then we’re just going to have to work twice as hard to prove that we don’t care.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he sighed. “I— I had this all planned out, and it was going to be perfect, but it just had to rain. I swear I’ll make this up to you — you deserve something better than a.. than whatever this is.”

Your eyes softened as you looked at him and you shook your head. “You have nothing to apologize for, babe. I mean, it’s not like you control the weather.” That got a small chuckle out of him and you smiled. “Any moment that I get with you is perfect. And, for what it’s worth, I enjoyed what we had going on here before we were interrupted.”

“Besides, it’s not that bad!” You took a few steps out from under the tree, holding your arms out and doing a small spin as the rain fell around you. Your clothes were soaked within seconds and yes, it was that bad, but you couldn’t go back now.

Zuko’s grin grew as he watched you dance in the rain — there was something enchanting about the way you were so carefree, and it was only exemplified by this moment. But what you hadn’t accounted for was how slippery every surface would be in the rain, and your foot landed on a rock just the wrong way.

“Woah!” You were falling backwards before you could catch yourself, but Zuko was by your side in a flash, his arms wrapping around your waist to stop your momentum and his hands braced on your back to keep you up.

“Are you okay?” He asked, slightly out of breath. You answered with a nod, only able to focus on the feeling of him supporting you. The most that would’ve happened if you had fallen was a bruise and some mud on your legs, but the way that Zuko was treating this, someone would think that you almost fell off the cliffside. You weren’t complaining though — this was.. pretty hot.  

“This is not what I meant when I told you to fall for me”, he said, the corners of his lips quirking up in a failed attempt to conceal his amusement.  

That broke the spell. You burst out laughing, but it wasn’t in a mocking way. It was the kind of laughter that made the corners of your eyes scrunch up, the kind of laughter that made your chest hurt in the best way, the kind of laughter that was pure sunlight.

“Zuko, that is completely ridiculous.”

“You love it though.” He grinned wryly, pulling you back up but still not removing his hands from around your waist.

“Yeah, I do,” you murmured, leaning forward to give him a light kiss. You could taste the dew on his lips, but you were only dimly aware of the torrent falling around you. You knew that the two of you were completely soaked along with the rest of your materials, but it was the least of your worries right now.

“You’re completely soaked.” Zuko voiced your own thoughts and you raised an eyebrow, gesturing at him.

“You’re one to talk.”

He chuckled and took your hand, pulling you back under the cover of the tree. Zuko shook his hair, getting a gasp out of you as the excess water hit you in the face. You flicked the sleeve of your jacket at him, trying to spray him with rain as well, but your aim wasn’t the best. You sighed excessively and shook your head. “Y’know, you’re lucky you’re cute.”

“I know,” Zuko said with a smile. “Let’s get home before you fall on another rock, okay? We can see the sunset another time.”

You rolled your eyes goodnaturedly and hit him lightly on the arm, unable to stop your own smile playing on your lips as your hands found each other’s again. The two of you started on your way down, you taking special care to stay under the cover of trees as much as you could, and Zuko to avoid any slippery surfaces.

“This was better than any sunset, though,” you murmured, casting a small glance at Zuko.

He met your eyes and smiled, giving your hand a squeeze. “Yeah. It was.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

perm taglist: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin​

[rrazor]

what is your skincare routine 🥺 plus imagine doing face masks with ur hq boy 😩😩 pleeaaaaaaseeee manifest

my routine is just a bunch of serums + moisturizer topped off with an obsession with cosrx :^) 

here’s some of my personal h/c’s about their routine and how u fit in 💖

kuroo overexfoliated when he was 16 and that’s when he decided to get into skincare 🤡 but you’re really the one who ties it all together and finishes it 😤 has a bunch of blackheads and is hesitant about using acids but trusts you when you rec a bha (salicylic) and to his surprise it works!! you teach other about ingredients and formulations (more teaching on your end since he’s such an overachiever and is in a million different things) but his skin really goes 🌺🌺 when he’s got a routine down.

another amazing boyfriend to do self-care days with because he needs them so much 😭💞 spends the whole day by your side at home doing whatever whenever and holding your hand the whole way through 💖 does the spoon in the fridge technique to depuff his eyes after a late night and always sends u morning selfies with them on his face all “Good morning my Fated One 🥄👄🥄” 💀💀💀

bokuto already has a skincare routine kudos of his sisters when you start dating and only gets back into doing it regularly when he learns you like doing it too 💕 he wants to spend more time with you as if he isn’t already glued to your hip 😭🤚💗💗

but he slaps his face really hard like really hard 😵 you have to teach him to gently dab and work the product into the skin but he sits like a good boy on the edge of the tub and closes his eyes for you 💛💛 keeps his hands on your hips too ☺️ gets acne here and there and sticks on the pimple patches you give him while telling you “y'know, babe, since you gave these to me, it’s like ur kissing me all night long!!! 🥺🥰😚💕” kiss him now pls

akaashi looks like he has his life together but his skincare routine is 😬 uses bar soap and the same anti-aging face lotion as his mom but his skin is 🌹🌸🌺✨he’s skeptical when he tries out new products but he comes around pretty quickly when he notices how less fatigued he looks 💀

he loves doing masks with you and likes to do one in the morning and one at night because you’ve got him hooked now 😤 he’s so dewy oh my god man is literally gleaming like a diamond 💎✨what have u done….. i bet he has a gua sha and rolls your face for you too 🥺 he’s so gentle omg stop…. looks at u with the softest look in his eyes when you giggle at how funny the sheet masks make the two of you look 💞❤️💕💓💝

oikawa while it’s universally thought in fanon that oikawa is a skincare junkie, i’d say that he’s more so really picky and meticulous. he has specific steps he follows to the t and knows how and when to bring in a new product for any seasonal weather and other changes in his skin. he’s not necessarily going to try your products unless he’s convinced they’ll work for him (everyone’s different after all), but he’s definitely open to you trying his and sharing what you both know 😤💗💗

easily one of the best boyfriends to have self care days with: nails, hair, face, online shopping, you name it, he’ll do it with you 🥰💄💅 i think he hates hyaluronic acid and avoids it like the plague lmfao one of his favourite ways to pass the evenings is the two of you together gossiping with your masks on and eating snacks 🌹🥰🥰🌹

iwaizumi lmfao this mf’er is sooo handsome 🥵 so i say oily skin that’s prone to breakouts 😇 yeah i think iwa struggles with acne and his scars, but he gets lucky that he grows out it by third/fourth year university 😘 uses a basic cleanser marketed towards acne 🤢🤢 and some moisturizer🧴he doesn’t trust oikawa with skincare recommendations because one of the product he gave him had glycolic acid in it and iwa’s skin said 👹

he’s reluctant but lets you help him with his skin and it makes a notable improvement throughout your relationship 👍✨gets heart palpitations when you grab his face and kiss him all over 💘💘 and genuinely thinks you’re one of the best thing to have happened to him when you coo “so handsome hajime 💕” yeah i just think he’s a sucker for you saying his first name lmao

matsukawa he has pretty decent skin, maybe a bit oily and will get spots here and there but overall puberty said nah this one’s cool 😎👍 so he comes in with very basic knowledge about skincare. though bless his heart, he tries out a bunch of stuff with you and is always open to doing masks and trying out new products with you 🥺💖

his skin is pretty resilient so watch him go 😨🤭 when you breakout and he doesn’t jgjebnfkwzl he kisses ur acne scars and spots tho so dw he madly in love ok? 😘🥰❤️ once he starts seeing the changes, he keeps up with the routine you made together for him but he likes to beg for you to do it for him “aw, c’mon babe don’t u want your hands all over this? 😩🤚💕💓💦” i hate him

hanamaki he has a mini routine and knows the general steps from his older sister and because i firmly believe he has dry, sensitive skin. he avoids fragrances, alcohols and all the sulphates and parabens but weirdly his skin is okay with silicones. anyways, he’s the one that introduces you to these amazing korean face masks and now you’re both hooked, spending weekends and days off at his house walking around with ur masks on all 💓👽👽💓

a little bit harder to work with in terms of exploration with your products but he finds his cheeks pinking 💖 and heart beating a little harder 🥰 when you go out of your way to find products that fit his criteria and gets rlly sappy when you start using them too 😭💓💕 he buys the bigger bottles for himself and small bottles for u because he’s whipped (and funny) that way 😐💖

kita looks like he and his grandma would some diy face masks together 🥰❤️ he’s got a basic cleanser and moisturizer but doesn’t do much else. spends a lot of time learning about the products and right steps so he can be a useful partner when you go shopping together 🥺💘💞

he comes to love oils, especially squalane and rosehip seed oil. also becomes a vitamin c junkie 😤 he’s a stickler for patch-testing and comes to really enjoy the whole skincare process in the morning and evenings as his own me time. really appreciates and thanks you for sharing this part of your daily life with him 🥺💘💞💞💖 invites you over to do masks with his grandma 😘

atsumu yeah he gets his beautiful skin from his mom and literally everything else because his mom is 🌸✨in both personality and looks. exfoliates three to four times a week and still looks amazing so you really have to wonder what his skin is doing and what yours isn’t 😔

when he finds the products that work™️ for him (kudos to you), he genuinely cannot stop admiring the shine of his skin after someone points it out he’s all 👁👃👁✨ and calls you up “babe ‘m beautiful did’ja know look at me look” 😐 likes to do skincare routines together but rushes through his so that he can do other stuff with you 😭💗💖💕 hates it when you push him away and don’t let him kiss you while your products are settling 🥺☹️💔

osamu my guy here is also blessed with naturally occurring bacteria that gives him beautiful skin like life rlly isn’t fair 😟😟 he doesn’t know much but lets you do whatever and loves loves loves it when you put all the products on him 🥺❤️ sits down between your legs all 💗🐶💗 prefers mud masks over sheet ones and likes to smear yours on for u 🥰

he comes to love skincare, not as much as you but enjoys how his face feels after he’s all moisturized and such. though he never remembers sunscreen so please carry some with you 😭 he buys you snacks and sneaks kisses while u wait for your products to settle on ur face 💖💖 uses a jade roller in the mornings as he checks his phone because it feels nice 👍✨✨

suna sensitive skin but relatively normal in terms of oiliness. ik he steals his younger sister’s products if they’re close in age 💀 he has very little idea how to get started so when he jumps in and tries one of yours he breaks out really bad and curses you lmfaoooo 👿👿👹🤡

ok but once he gets a decent routine in, he does his best to keep up with it and it helps!! his skin feels less tight and more supple so he might love you a little more for that 🙄🤚💖 he prefers sheet masks and lets you clip his curtain bangs to the side✨ also looks like the kinda guy who likes to sit on the balcony/patio with his mask on and soak up the sun in the mornings after you both have your sunscreen on 🌼🌼

ushijima his skin is dehydrated but he doesn’t know it, has accepted the oiliness of his skin as a symptom of his athletics 😔 he’s got a bunch of expensive luxury products given to him by his mom and she’s told him to use them but he doesn’t know what the right order is so he puts on an occlusive first before anything else 😭😭😭

genuinely appreciates you so much when you take the time to teach him about everything and even asks if you could give him some notes so that he can refer to them when you’re not by his side 🥺💗💕💖 joins you in your product endeavours and gives you succinct but helpful feedback on what he likes and doesn’t like 😤 likes to hold you while u do masks together 🌼 and rests his head on urs 😭🌸💕

tendou uses whatever he’s got at home and what his mom gets him 🤷‍♀️ spots here and there but otherwise pretty clear skin. he’s open to trying anything and everything with you because he’s just really happy to spend time with you 🥰💞💞

sits really close to you and let’s you have free reign of his face when you sleep over at his place!! he giggles a lot because it tickles but never asks you to stop 🥺💜 thanks you for helping him and making him look so pretty 🌷✨looks like he’d be allergic to propolis/honey-based ingredients...

semi handsome man…. another one that looks dehydrated to me but he’s trying just please help him 😭🤚 he’s too nervous to go skincare shopping on his own because of the sheer amount of selection available 😢 tags along with you like a little puppy when you go with him 🐶💘

i feel like he has closed comedones 🤔 he tries out your retinol and keeps up with it when you told him some people got rid of theirs using it and…… it worked 😳🌟✨ thinks you’re a skincare goddess now lmfao 😤👊 when girls in university ask him about his skin, he just calls you and puts you on speaker because “my baby worked rlly hard so she should get all the credit” 😭💖💖

sakusa i think rosacea but also wealthy parents who had access to numerous dermatologists who nipped it in the bud as soon as they saw it 🤑 anyways he’s got near perfect skin lol goes through periods of dryness and keeps a strict regimen of products 👌🌟 swears by aloe vera and keeps some with him at all times 💗

though i do think you gently push him to introduce serums and essences into his routine (which is basic, but covers all his bases). you let him experiment and he finds one from cosrx that he considers a holy grail 😳 he likes doing ur skincare routine for you and you sit on the toilet seat and grin up at him 🥰 he blushes but doesn’t look away and might or might not admit he loves to be in such close contact with you 💘💘

hoshiumi kinda brutal with the way he goes about it; it looks like he’s beating the product in 💀👊👊 uses bar soap on both his face and body and wonders why his skin is dry and tight after showers “what? doesn’t that mean you didn’t clean all the gross oil off?” 😶😐😑 u gotta start from scratch with this guy 🤐

he pays attention to you but also doesn’t and finds it a bit of a hassle to go through five different products so he settles for a really basic routine 🥱 has one really fancy bottle of serum he takes with him to games and such and goes “my girlfriend gave it to me what don’t you have something like this 🤔” before putting it on if anyone asks 💀🤚�� a full on chad 💪

hirugami he definitely has a skincare routine…. handsome 🤤 though i think he dislikes the feeling of sheet masks on his face; they feel too goopy and he doesn’t like how slimey they are. he prefers just using a short list of serums to keep his skin healthy and plump 💖✨likes hypoallergenic and fragrance-free products 👌

had acne back in middle school and a bit in first year. feel like he goes through a flare up in third year 😇🙃 anyways he likes standing next to u in the washroom doing ur routines side by side 🥰 wears those fluffy animal ear headbands with you and puts on your lip balm for you 💓💓 his dog came up and licked u across the face one time 😭 he almost choked with how hard he was laughing at u 😔 but he helped u redo it 😭💝

[makeste]

I just wanna enable you to talk more about Katsuki so. top 5 (or 10, or however many you feel like) Bakugou romantic ships? not like number 1 will be a surprise but hey ;p

ah, shipping. the perfect topic with which to take a breather from leg puns and the quirkless!Bakugou debate. nothing controversial about ships lmao.

disclaimer: these are literally just my favorite Bakugou ships, as asked. I have few to no NOTPs, and I’m not anti-anything, nor do I have any opinions on whether or not any of these will or should become canon (as it really makes no difference to me, since I ship them all platonically as well). basically I have no skin in the “shipping somehow has winners and losers” game. I’m just here for the emotional energy and the lulz and the character development.

anyways this is a top six because I couldn’t bear to leave either of my two favorite rarepairs out whoops.

BakuDeku - like you said anon, not a surprise lol. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again; for me, these two are the core of the series. honestly it sometimes strikes me as ironic that this ship is so often written off as abusive or unhealthy or toxic, because I often find myself thinking that roughly 90% of all of Bakugou and Deku’s problems could be sorted out just by them communicating with each other. and I don’t mean just their own specific relationship problems -- I mean all of their problems. Bakugou is having an emotional crisis about something? have him talk to Deku. Deku’s overwhelmed by a problem and way overthinking it? have him talk to Bakugou! they balance each other out, is the thing. when one of them veers off course, the other is the compass to steer them back on track. that’s the power of rivals!! and aside from that, this relationship is just so complex, and I am weak for absolutely all of it. it’s just this perfect blend of push and pull and friction and trust. it’s the type of ship where the two of them have such a strong connection that it’s like gravity; they can’t help but orbit the other, even when that orbit is sometimes unsteady. it’s just such a powerful bond and just... guh. I have way too many emotions about it so I am just going to STOP NOW and move on to the next ship.

TodoBaku - so by now we have reached a point where pretty much everyone in class 1-A is an expert on handling Bakugou, and ngl, it’s my favorite thing ever. but what makes the TodoBaku relationship so especially appealing is that Shouto is completely unafraid to just step right up and declare his friendship to the entire world. Todoroki “I’m calling it like it is” Shouto, who, after giving the matter careful consideration, correctly judged himself and Bakugou to be the closest of friends, and thus decided that they should intern together and he should introduce him to his family and get his sister to cook his favorite foods. and the entire time, Bakugou is all “please no one listen to this delusional freak, we are not friends at all,” even as he proceeds to get himself involved in all of the Todoroki family drama, and saves Shouto’s brother’s life, and learns all of his sister’s recipes, and presumably cries himself to sleep at night wondering how he could have let this happen.

Kacchako - what I like about Ochako’s relationship with Katsuki is that she’s one of the few people who’s not afraid to call him out on his shit. she’s not just warmly tolerant of him like some of the others; she has expectations of him, and will unabashedly express her sound disappointment if he fails to be the person she knows he’s capable of being. I feel like Ochako has no patience for him taking his sweet time with his character development, and is just “goddammit young man, just sort your shit out with Deku already and go back to being best friends like you both so clearly want, and while you’re at it please try to treat other people less like garbage”, and various other things that are all true but that he of course hates to hear, but TOO BAD lol. anyway so I love that, and I love that she’s just as stubborn as he is. and I also love that there’s genuine, mutual respect between the two of them as well. never forget that Katsuki is the one who first brought out Ochako’s homicidal badass side. anyway so they basically complement each other very well, and I have my fingers crossed that one of these days Horikoshi will decide to actually have them interact with each other again because damn.

KiriBaku - Kirishima, on the other hand, is warmly tolerant of Bakugou, and openly admiring of him even, but it tends to be in a way that brings out Bakugou’s best qualities. Kiri just has this way of bringing out Bakugou’s confidence in himself. like, he’s very good at saying precisely the right words to make Bakugou grin that smirky little grin of his, the one that’s all “oh yeah, that’s right, I’m a badass.” and seeing as Bakugou, for all his pride and bluster, is surprisingly prone to having mini crises of confidence, this is a valued skill that I’m very grateful to Kiri for having! and what’s nice is that Bakugou is very good at returning the favor, since Kiri is prone to crises of confidence as well. the little flashback right before Kiri unveils Unbreakable for the first time is one of my favorite moments in the series. when this ship is firing on all cylinders they really bring out the best in each other. and also they are both dumb bros which is an extremely undervalued dynamic. I love it when Bakugou is all “HEY KIRISHIMA LET ME BLOW YOU UP A BIT” and Kiri is just like “YEAHHHH!” heh.

KamiBaku - and now for the first of the two rarepairs! first of all I would just like to state that I absolutely cannot fathom why KamiBaku is a rarepair to begin with, unless it’s simply because everyone is already too obsessed with the previously mentioned ships. but at any rate it’s a damn shame, because the cuteness of this ship is off the fucking charts, and right now it’s all just going to waste. what I adore more than anything about this ship is the way Bakugou tolerates every single fucking thing Kaminari does and LETS HIM GET AWAY WITH IT. he lets him call him “Kacchan.” he lets Kaminari manhandle him into various getups (the A Band shirt; the Santa outfit) on multiple occasions while putting up absolutely no fight. he basically allows him an almost unprecedented level of closeness, which Kaminari proceeds to BLATANTLY TAKE ADVANTAGE OF at every turn seemingly unchecked! and he is the all time champ at tricking Bakugou into participating in social interactions (tying the ribbon to his foot during the Christmas gift exchange, telling him he won’t get any food at the New Year’s feast if he doesn’t help cook, etc.). he just loves him and wants him to be included. honestly this one of the most adorable relationships in the entire goddamn series and I am tired of it being slept on. the people deserve more KamiBaku dammit.

IidaBaku - last but not least, a relationship between two people who I’m pretty sure have only actually interacted with each other a handful of times, and most of those times involved them shouting at each other! ah, yes. the stick in the mud and the delinquent. god’s natural enemies. except that in this case the “delinquent” is a star student who tutors other kids and goes to bed every night at 8:30, and the stick in the mud once hatched a legitimate plot to kill a man. what I am trying to say is that these two are actually WAY more alike than they would ever care to admit, and I’m kind of obsessed with it?? this is one of those ships where all it would take is one well-applied trope and the possibilities are endless. you could literally just pick one out of a hat. fake dating, roommates, only one bed, undercover as lovers, WHATEVER. and not only does this have the potential to be the most hilarious ship in the history of time, but it also has potential to be disarmingly, shockingly sweet, I shit you not. there are a couple of little moments in the light novels that I absolutely adore, where they’re each taking care of the other with the other having absolutely no idea. Iida makes about four attempts to tuck Bakugou in during the forest training camp arc because his covers have fallen off and he doesn’t want him to catch a chill, and Bakugou unknowingly returns the favor by preventing Iida from stumbling across the preparations for his own surprise birthday party before the others are finished getting ready. by shoving Iida into an elevator and ordering him to go back to his room with absolutely no explanation given lmao. anyway, but the point is the potential is definitely there for cuteness and chemistry and mutual respect while arguing nonstop like an old married couple.

so there you go! honestly Bakugou somehow has chemistry with just about everyone in his class, which is super impressive for someone with the personality of a rabid wolf spider. god bless him.

[mudwingprince]

hello humans

YOU ALL KNOW WHAT TIME IT IS

but this time

there's @kkartsblog >:)

(they're still reading no spoilers lmao)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Portuguese translation

reblogs help out a lot :D

“Have you ever been to a city?” I asked as Radi0 and I walked carefully on the path so as to not step on any snakes or... other similar creatures.

“No, have you?”

“Nope, I’m excited though! There’s going to be so much around us, like,” I thought for a second. “Like book stores! They might even have some sketchbooks there! Ooh! Maybe there will be a flower shop! O-or spirituality stores,” That didn’t make any sense, did it… I thought. “With the rocks and tarot cards and stuff, those ones.”

“Mud, sorry to ruin the mood, but we won’t be able to get anything, we don’t have any money,” Radi0 said. I blinked, then nodded. I knew that already, but it was always fun to look at everything in the stores. “And you’re okay with that, right?” I nodded again. We were getting closer to the city, which was much larger than I thought it was farther back on the path, and I couldn’t tell if what I was feeling was nervousness or excitement, maybe even a little bit of both. I let out a small, dry, laugh as the path quickly broke off into a road.

“Are you nervous?” Radi0 asked. I blinked and looked at him, then looked back at the city.

“K-Kind of,” I replied. “What about you?”

“... Yeah…”

“Well, we don’t have any other options other than to go in, right?” I asked. Radi0 nodded. I looked up at the buildings that towered above us. I pulled out my phone and checked the time. 14:12. There was still a decent amount of time in the day.

“Do you have anything valuable on you?” I asked Radi0, turning off my phone but still holding it.

“Just my phone,” he said, “Why?”

“I’ve heard that cities can be rather dangerous with pickpockets and thieves and stuff…” I waved my talons around a bit to emphasize my point (and to help ease my anxiety). “I don’t want you losing anything or getting anything stolen.” We stood for another minute, staring at the city.

“Are you two going to move or not?” A voice said from behind us. I whipped around and whipped my tail anxiously. There was a small tiger with pale brown fur, green eyes, and a small, blue, flower in their fur by their ear. They were wearing denim overalls and stood on two paws instead of four. They felt familiar but I just couldn’t put my finger on why they did. I thought for a moment while looking at them.

Wait a minute…

“K.K.?!”

[satsuma-saturn]

Trying - Mammon x Reader

A/N: ok, so this is another song fic b/c i can’t help myself lmao. also, i decided to say ‘guardian’ instead of ‘parent(s),’ so you can insert whoever, like maybe a grandparent or a foster parent or whatever. you can even insert your parent(s), if you feel comfortable doing so. it was for the comfort of the reader, just like the gender neutrality of the reader character. the guardian is only mentioned like once, but i just wanted to point it out.

WC: 2520

Warning(s): Reader deals with depression/anxiety and has a meltdown (kind of panicky, but not to the extent of a panic attack), Mammon sees the reader nakey, but there’s nothing spicy

fic is below the cut

I’m not really sure if my words make sense to you, but I can’t really find any other way to form these feelings into cubes and sort them in my mind…

Breathe. Just breathe. An involuntary function that you shouldn’t find it so hard to do, yet you feel your chest tightening as you hyperventilate and sob in the bathtub. You feel as though you’re dying, tears streaming down your face, blurring your vision. The water in the bath chills you to your core, and you just want to hide under your covers in your bed, but you remain in the tub, unmoving.

A knock on the door pulls you out of your haze. You wipe your face as the knocking gets louder, sitting up. Your breathing slows, but your nerves are still shot. Someone wants your attention, but you don’t respond. Instead, you pull your knees to your chest, shivering as the icy water seeps into your bones, freezing them solid. The knocking refuses to stop. It only gets louder the longer you sit there, but your body, crafted of lead, remains still, and you stay in the tub.

The negative thoughts go on the left and the happy things on the right, and there’s a little corner saved just for you…

“Hey, Y/N! What the hell are ya doin’ in there? Masturbatin’? Ya been in there for like two hours and I’ve been waitin’ for ya!” Mammon. One of the more sympathetic brothers, yet despite that, you can’t bring yourself to tell him about your anguish, as you let out silent sobs in the bathtub. Hell, you can’t even bring yourself to speak. You’ll just leave him with that imagery instead. Eventually, he’ll get bored and leave you alone. It helps that he has the attention span of a dog on a walk, especially one that has just spotted a squirrel.

Please let me know if you change your mind, ‘cause inside I’m falling and I need you to pull me out of this decline…

Only, your assumption about him getting bored and leaving cannot possibly be more incorrect. He needs your attention and he needs it now, the clingy sonuvabitch, so good luck getting rid of him. “Ya can’t just ignore the Great Mammon like that! I’ll break down this damn door if ya don’t open it, ya stupid human!” The doorknob jiggles, as if he’s first trying to see if he can even open the door, except it’s locked, because who the fuck leaves the door unlocked when they’re bathing? It won’t open until you’re ready to leave, since you can’t see him actually breaking down the door, therefore, it will remain locked until you unlock it. His words are most likely an empty threat meant to scare you into opening the door for him. Except, you feel no fear as you listen to him, since Mammon and fear pair together as well as toothpaste and orange juice. In fact, if you weren’t in such a sorry state and having a meltdown, you probably would laugh at his futile attempts to enter your bathroom.

I realize how hard to you this must seem, but trust me when I say it’s far, far worse for me…

Instead of opening the door, you just close your eyes and lay back down in the tub, wiping away the tears that refuse to stop vacating your eyes. Not too long after, Mammon’s knocking on the door again. Only, it’s louder and harsher than knocking. Is he kicking the door? You never thought he would hold true to his threat, but it sounds like he’s trying to break down your door. That ass.

You jump as the door swings off its hinges, crashing into the wall. Now, not only is your door destroyed, but there is a gaping hole in the wall. How the hell are you even going to respond to this? Mammon broke your damn door and now he’s in your bathroom, where you’re crying and naked in a freezing bathtub. He’s never even seen you naked before and this is not how you imagined it would go. This is so fucking embarrassing.

Please, please be here for me, dear, ‘cause I’ve never needed a friend more and I can’t stress how much it means to me that you’re trying…

His blue eyes widen as they drink in the scene in front of them. “Why the hell are ya cryin’? Is it ‘cuz I broke yer door? I’ll jus’ take some cash from Levi to replace it. I’m sure he won’t mind.” The way he’s staring at you makes you want to sink lower into the tub or disappear completely. Not only that, but Levi would most definitely mind if Mammon ‘borrowed’ some money from him, considering how often the latter had done it in the past without paying him back. “Why didn’t ya respond when I was callin’ for ya?” He steps inside the bathroom to sit on the edge of the tub. If he couldn’t see your body from the doorway, he can definitely see it now. You suddenly feel extremely self-conscious as you lay in the tub, thinking of how to respond. Quietly, he watches your face, waiting for your reply.

And I don’t mind if you can’t hold me like you used to, ‘cause I’ve never hated myself more…

Your voice is hoarse. “I don’t know. I guess I thought you would get bored and leave if I didn’t say anything. I didn’t think you’d really break my door down.” The water splashes over the side of the tub, spilling onto the floor, as you sink lower into the tub. You close your eyes as you sink to your ears in the tub, tilting your head so that your face isn’t submerged. Mammon’s voice sounds akin to the buzzing of bees as he speaks to you once more. Why can’t he just leave? Isn’t it obvious you don’t want him there, in your bathroom, where you’re naked and crying? Why is he so damn nosy?

His hands are gripping your biceps, nails digging into your skin as he pulls you out of the icy water. You don’t bother opening your eyes to look at him, but you feel him wrap a towel around you, holding your shivering form against his chest. “The hell are ya doin’, Y/N? What’s goin’ on with ya? It’s gotta be more than just the door. Were ya in here crying in this fuckin’ freezin’ water before I got here?”

But this is just a bump in the road and I promise I’m trying…

Nodding your head, you swab your tongue on your lips before speaking. “Yeah.” That’s all you say in response as your teeth chatter uncontrollably. The water was hot when you first got into the tub, but you guess you were in there for so long that the temperature lowered a substantial amount. Still, you weren’t glad to be out of the tub now. Under the water, you didn’t have to answer his probing questions. Now that you’re out of the tub and in his lap, you have no choice but to answer the questions he throws your way. You don’t know how to explain it to him. Your thoughts and feelings, and how they’re sporadic, like a scribbling on a child’s drawing. The child’s drawing is of a dog, only it looks like it’s just a bunch of scribbles.

I promise I’m trying…

Not only that, but you’re naked and in his lap, a towel serving as the only thing separating the two of you. You start crying again, burying your face into the soft fluff of the towel, your shoulders shaking. Your eyes are closed, but you feel Mammon pull your head to his chest, seemingly indifferent to your sopping hair drenching his shirt. “Y’know, I always wondered why ya stupid humans gotta cry n’ be sad n’ stuff. Ya have such short lives and ya spend them cryin’ in bathtubs. I’ve been alive for I don’t even remember how long and I ain’t never once cried in a bathtub.” Mammon speak for why are you crying? I care about you and want to help you. He would never actually say that, though, since he likes to pretend that he doesn’t have feelings for you, even if it’s obvious to literally everyone, including yourself. Whatever, you’ll just let him live out that fantasy for as long as he pleases.

You wipe your face on the towel, peering up at him with glassy eyes. There’s a look of discomfort on his face, like he wants to help you, but doesn’t know what to do. “I’m crying because…” Why are you crying? Originally, you were kind of panicking, but it was something so small, and you weren’t sure that he would get it. “I was having a meltdown and just kinda sad in general. It just kind of happened while I was in the bath. I didn’t really expect anyone to come in here to check on me. Or y’know, break down my door.”

Give me a moment to get my cards in line, ‘cause I’m still trying to figure out in what kind of order I should set them out…

He chews on his lip, silent for a moment. You feel as if this is the most serious you’ve seen him. A frown spreads across his face after a few moments of silence. “Y’aint got nothin’ to cry or be sad about, human. ‘Course, if you were hangin’ out with Satan or Lucifer, I’d understand, since bein’ around them makes me wanna cry. ‘Specially Lucifer. Don’t tell him I said that, though. He’ll throw a hissy fit. Thinks he’s so cool, but he’s a damn stick in the mud.”

If there was a way to explain everything without a word, I’d have a full house right now, without a doubt…

Sniffling, you wipe your nose on the towel, pretending that you don’t leave behind a disgusting trail of snot as you do. Ignoring what Mammon’s remarks about Satan and Lucifer, you say, “can you take me to my room? I just want to lay down in my bed right now, if you don’t mind.” Your hands are shaking as you speak, and you attempt to get them under control, but the effort it takes drains you, like trying to scoop water out of the Titanic with a plastic pail.

I’m trying to tear the wool from your eyes, but part of me wants to let you be, ‘cause then you wouldn’t see what I’ve become…

A slow nod from the demon comes after a few seconds, as if he needed time to process your words. He hooks an arm under your knees and lifts you up, holding you as a groom would his bride, and carries you out of the bathroom. Stepping around the splintered pieces of door, he loses his balance, almost dropping you when he steadies himself. In response, you dig your nails into his arm, bracing yourself for smacking the ground. Mammon hisses in pain as you leave small, crescent-shaped indents in his flesh. Yet, he holds onto you, miraculously managing to not drop you on the floor.

I’m trying to shout, but no sound comes out…

Gently, as if afraid to break you, Mammon sets you down on your bed, towel and all. After that, the bed shifts as he too lays down, pulling you to his chest. For a few seconds, there’s nothing. Just him holding you against his chest, seemingly unwilling to let you go, not that you want him to. His breath is warm on your damp hair, as his fingers tangle in it, massaging your scalp with his fingertips.

As he massages your scalp with one hand, the other rubs slow circles on your back. You can fall asleep right then and there, with the silence and his soothing touches, but you want to lay awake with him. Despite being a demon and the Avatar of Greed, he is always kind to you, even if in his own way. His inability to admit his feelings may make him appear cold towards you to an outsider, but you know differently.

It’s like we’re in a dream state, but I should have woken up, woken up by now…

After a long, drawn out silence, he finally breaks it. You figure he would give into his impatience eventually. “Are ya feelin’ any better? I don’t know too much about humans, but I know a lot of ‘em like physical contact when they’re feeling down, at least in my professional experience.” Professional experience. The words almost bring you to laughter. You can’t picture him having really any personal, or ‘professional’ experience with humans, much less ones that struggle with mental health issues, such as anxiety or depression.

“Yeah, I guess I am,” you reply. Your head aches and your mood is still damper, but you know that Mammon is attempting to make you feel better, in the best way he can. The demon, always greedy for your attention, is probably thriving from all the attention he’s getting at the moment. Only the two of you are in your room, so he can be the sole recipient of your attention and you can tell he’s soaking it up.

“Good.”

Please, please be here for me, dear, ‘cause I’ve never needed a friend more and I can’t stress how much it means to me that you’re trying…

Even if Mammon often drove you to near insanity with his crazy ‘money-making’ schemes and pranks, you’re grateful for his presence. Warmth radiates from him, a welcome change from the icy water of the bathtub that you were in some time ago. His clothes are soaked from your towel, pressed against his body, but he doesn’t seem to mind. When you try to point it out to him, he ignores you, continuing to rub circles into your back.

And I don’t mind if you can’t hold me like you used to, ‘cause I’ve never hated myself more…

Having your back rubbed relaxes you, and you find yourself almost drifting off to sleep a few times. You’re reminded of when you were a small child and your guardian would rub your back to get you to sleep, especially when you had trouble sleeping. In order to keep awake, you lightly pinch your skin, leaving behind faint pink marks. Normally, you’d go to sleep no problem, but you feel an obligation to stay awake with Mammon, especially after all that he’d done for you in the past hour or so.

But this is just a bump in the road and I promise I’m trying…

Your eyelashes, like butterflies, flutter as you fight to keep them open. The hand in your hair stops its movements, just gently resting on your occipital bone. You continue to fight sleep, but eventually, you give in, feeling it wash over your body. When you eventually wake up, you’re still wrapped in your towel, with Mammon asleep by your side.

I promise I’m trying...

[oliviaischillin1204]

Come Little Lees- A Fic By @Ticklish Sides

[note: YEAH this is another fic from @ticklish-sides and it’s uhhhhhhhh very very good LMAO]

“Come little children, I’ll take you away," a voice sang out through the Dark Side, “into a land of teasy tiiiiiiickles.”

Remus tugged Virgil down the hallways, both of them sporting wide, wobbly grins. Virgil was stumbling slightly with Remus half dragging and half carrying the smaller Side away from the monster that had followed into the Dark Side of the Mindscape in their quest to escape him. The only advantage that they had was that Remus and Virgil knew this side better than everyone in the Mindscape except one other Side. And, luckily, Janus was currently in a very heated debate with Logan. So, he wasn’t the one chasing them.

Unfortunately, the only other Side that was more of a Tickle Monster than Janus was.

"Through the fireplace,” Virgil hissed as Remus pulled him down the elegant, gothic staircase. While the Light Side was like a cozy home with a kitchen, living room, and all of that, the Dark Side was more… dramatic than that. It was like a Disney Villain’s castle, full of long staircases with railings that had designs carved into it, dining rooms with tables that were way too long for three people (four when the fourth Dark Side actually showed up), and an actual throne room with four thrones designed with each Dark Side in mind. And, after years of discovering them all, hundreds of secret passages. Like the Fireplace in one of the many dining rooms that Remus and Virgil were running straight for.

“Come little children, the time’s come to play,” A completely different voice from before sang out, much closer than the other, “here in my castle of tiiiiickles.”

“When the fucking hell did he show up,” Virgil hissed as they ducked into the Fireplace, Remus letting go of his hand to jump up and grab onto the ladder that led into the upstairs’ tea room. “I thought that we only had one of them to deal with!”

“Learn to roll with the shit life tosses at you, Moody McStick in the mud,” Remus hissed back, quickly climbing up the ladder. No, it wasn’t his best but he had two Tickle Monsters to hide from and Virgil to hide with. And while Virgil was the first one Remus would choose if he had to choose someone to Ler with, the Side had absolutely no self-preservation when it came to someone tickling him. It was like he liked it or something.

Anyway, Remus was a hypocrite and perfectly comfortable with that.

“Follow sweet children, I’ll show thee the way,” a sweet voice sang, just as arms reached through the false fire and grabbed Virgil just as the Anxious Side jumped to reach the ladder, pulling him out of the Fireplace and out of Remus’ sight, “through all the laughs, and the giggles!”

“Virgil,” Remus cried, pausing momentarily but immediately starting to climb again when a hand sporting bright red rings reached through the fire towards him, “I’m abandoning you!”

“Fucker,” Virgil cried, his voice bouncing around the fireplace as Remus kept climbing. “Remus, I hatAHAHAHAHAHA!”

Remus was shaky as he climbed out of the passage and into the tea room. It was one of the ones designed by Janus, with yellow tablecloths with lace at the hem and hardback chairs with pillows on the seats surrounding the tables. It was also big as shit which was really working against Remus with how long he had been running. It was like Janus had designed it with this exact scenario in mind which, knowing that fucking snake, he probably had.

“Run not poor children, for life is this way,” a voice sang out, just as the door Remus had been running to flung open and Remus came face to face with his asshole of a brother, smirking down at him, “tickling ticklish cuties.”

Remus pointed at Roman sharply, his wobbly smile turning into a wobbly grin. “That line was fucking shit,” he shot at Roman, taking a shaky step back. “Where’d you write it, on the toilet?”

Roman scoffed, walking forward and matching each step that Remus took backward. “Oh, please, like you could do any better. How about I make you rewrite it while me and Patton absolutely wreck you and Sir. Laughs a Lot downstairs.” He smirked and held a hand up to his ear, tilting his head a little. “Can you hear your partner in crime, Re? Patty’s playing nice right now and Virgil is still losing it. Not that you’ll do much better. Out of the two of you, I don’t know who is more ticklish. How about we find out?”

“You know, I will absolutely give up every single one of Virgil’s death spots if Patton tickles me and not you,” Remus said, pressing himself up against the wall. Now, that might seem stupid. Give himself to the most feared Ler of the Mindscape? What was he thinking? He was thinking that he’d rather have that feared Ler tickle him than the Side who had the exact same tickle spots as Remus and knew exactly how to wreck him.

“And let someone other than me tickle my dear brother? No, no,” Roman cooed, stepping forward and smoothly slinging Remus over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. “Patty’s taking care of Virgil and he’s doing just fine. Don’t worry, Remus,” Remus burst into laughter as Roman started to squeeze his hips sporadically, “we’ll have fun! Just like how we had fun when you got me last weekend!”

Remus was laughing too much at that point, not even realizing that they were downstairs until Roman tossed Remus down onto a bed - Virgil’s according to the purple bedspread with the laced trimmed pillows - right next to Virgil who was giggling hard as Patton traced a slow circle around his bellybutton. Remus opened his mouth to say something about Virgil and how easy he gave in but was immediately cackling again as Roman shoved his hands into his armpits. He was laughing so hard that he just barely heard Roman say to Patton, “They didn’t like our song, Patty!”

“Don’t worry, Roro. Now that we got our Little Lees, we got plenty of time to workshop it.”

[lotusthekat]

Sound and Color (With Me, For My Mind)

Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood

Rating: T

Relationships: Alphonse & Edward

Characters: Alphonse Elric, Edward Elric

Summary: Sometimes, Al needs to remember that he’s there.

Word count: 1.226

AO3

A/N: My fourth FMA fic already?? And with these brothers??? Fuck yeah!!

But this is really just me half venting, half wanting to see more Al-centric stuff in this fandom - so this is far from original, lmao. I hope you like it!

TRIGGER WARNINGS - dissociation*, implied past death, references to depression and fear of death.

*I don’t particularly struggle with dissociation (as far as I know), so I hope this is accurate and respectful to those who do.

--

With each step heavy and somehow nothing, Al moves to the kitchen as if in a haze.

Even though Al knows he’s there, there’s also… nothing. The day has probably passed by and he hasn’t even felt it. He’s automatic; he woke up and… did something outside. He can’t remember now what it was.

Al is guided only by what sounds to be noises in the kitchen, and the distinct metal sound of Den’s right paw patting in the wooden ground. It’s only then he acknowledges the dog playfully going to the kitchen to explore inside.

And it’s also then that he finds the source of all the noise, which is surprisingly not all that loud today.

The haze feels less blinding when he sees his brother. His main guidance and what he also fought to protect. The last remaining of hope he had since Mom had passed away. Even inside an armor, his love for Ed was real and what he wanted the most to touch again.

Ed looks so different, though. Well, he’s still short – as is his temper –, and… his automail still replaces his right arm, Al remembers. But Ed has never looked so happy and peaceful before. He looks so… homey, no longer wearing that exaggerated red coat and boots, and instead of creating giant walls and awful-looking weapons, Ed is cooking something. Is it… stew?

Ed smiles, even if for half a second. Because then he’s worried. And he drops the wooden spoon, Den immediately coming after it.

“What’s wrong, brother?” Al manages to ask out of the haze.

“Wh-?! You’re soaking wet, you idiot!” Ed exclaims in disbelief.

“… oh,” so, that’s what it was. “Sorry.”

Before Ed goes on with the scolding – because this is really far from the first time Al has gone out without a coat or an umbrella, which always drives his brother nuts –, the room grows silent again. Ed’s annoyance fades within a minute, softening in quiet understanding.

“Where… Where were you all this time?” Ed asks him, rather patiently.

The younger boy struggles to remember, only it comes to him.

Rain. Rain. Rain.

The endless crying from above. The crying that he could not let out; and not in front of his brother or anyone else. The loneliness, the wandering in years of lost hope.

Seeing the sweetness in Ed’s eyes clicks it in for Al. Only one place he could have gone to.

Al is lowering his head, noticing the mud in his knees, the remainings of grass and dead flowers now clear to him.

"I wish you were here. Both of you", Al whispered to the two graves.

"I don’t want to be alone."

Although he doesn’t say a word, he can tell his brother finds the answer as the silence in the room seems heavier.

Outside, the sky’s cries are stronger. They subtly shake the house. Al doesn’t know how he feels that, when he’s far from feeling there at all.

The clouds cry for him. They’ve always cried, when Al couldn’t sleep. They’ve never left, haven’t they?

Al listens.

Ed breathes in.

“Al…”

Whatever he wanted to say, it disappears with the rain. Al hears it, anyway.

He clenches his jaw.

Al takes one step forward, and almost falls.

Falls to the nothing.

Nothing. Nothing.

But something gets ahold of him.

A voice…

Is it Truth? To take him away for good?

…

… Al!

Alphonse !

Al smells the stew. He smells home and the rain, and the metal that replaces his brother’s limbs to this day.

Warm. It’s all so warm.

Even soaking wet, he latches onto the warmth. Of course, he doesn’t want to ruin it. He doesn’t want to wet it and steal the heat for himself. But Al is…

God, he’s terrified.

“I don’t want…” he gulps.

There’s a thunder outside.

“I don’t want to go,” he whispers, so quietly no one might hear it. His voice is beyond hoarse from the rain.

Immediately after, Al is squeezed tight, even if he’s a soaked mess.

“You’re not going anywhere,” someone else answers, a warm surface touching his forehead. “You’re here, Al. You’re home.”

Al trembles.

“But I don’t”— he hiccups —“I don’t feel real, Ed.”

His brother stills. Al trembles harder.

“I’m still trapped,” he says, “I-It’s like… I’m losing myself every single day. And then I’ll be gone. There’ll be nothing left.” Al buries himself in the beating warmth that he holds onto. It beats, beats, beats. “I don’t want to leave.”

“Y-You won’t.”

“But I did once. I did, and I was- I’m still conscious and I hate that I can’t feel anything. It hurts, and I don’t want to, anymore. But I don’t want to go, brother,” Al sobs.

“Al. Al.” He’s squeezed between the fragile metal and human flesh; both so very alive to him, despite the differences. “Listen to me. You’re not going away. I’m not letting that happen ever again.”

“B-But I am, brother! I’m going to die!”

“You won’t. You can trust me. You know that, right?” Ed inquires.

Al doesn’t protest, because he does believe him. Ed would never lie about this, even if he’s kept a lot of things to himself. When it comes to Al, he’s always clear with him.

“You’re real, Al. I can feel you,” Ed tells him. “You’re soaking wet and trembling like ice – and I’ll let you know you’re going to the shower immediately after this –, and your heart is beating hard against mine. Your heart is so strong, Al. Just like you.” Al feels something solid like metal supporting his back, and it’s far from uncomfortable. “The fact I’m even able to hold you right now is the most real I’ve felt in so long.”

Ed’s voice is the softest and rawest Al has heard in his life. Raw and real, and aching like the rain outside.

“Ed…” Al whimpers, “I’m scared.”

His brother kisses his forehead, despite Al’s wet bangs plastered on it. “I know.”

“I still feel so lost. Like I’m in that walking shell. What if I’m still there? What if…” Al sniffs. “What if I never leave the armor at all, Ed?”

It makes no sense, he knows. But what Al feels is true. He’s not sure if Ed might understand it.

“Then I’ll help you get out, Al. No matter how much time it takes,” his older brother assures. “I won’t give up on you.”

Despite the mess that he is right now, Al is able to breathe again.

Eventually, Ed helps Al get on his feet and, next thing he knows, Al is inside the bathroom, hot water embracing him. The moment he’s done, he’s immediately buried in maybe two sweaters that Granny and Winry got him back when it snowed in Resembool. Besides yet another blanket Ed grabbed from the couch.

“You’re such a worrywart, Ed,” Al teases him, much to Ed’s displeasure.

“Oh, now you’re sassing me? You brat.” His tone immediately changes, “You’re warm now, right? Do you need another blanket?”

“I’m fine, brother. Maybe you should check on the stew.”

Ed’s eyes widen, and Al suddenly takes note of a very strong smell.

“… oh, shit!” His brother runs the fastest mankind could ever run, and despite the loss of stew, Al can’t hold back a giggle.

[greywindys]

I had a fic I was working on for 2Doc week, but it betrayed me and turned angsty when I wanted something softer. So instead, I thought I could share a fic I never published, and I believe the first fic I ever wrote (dated in Google as complete on June 17th, 2016. Holy moly!)

It fits into day 3′s prompt of firsts - the first night the spent together on good terms. The beginning of the bond, I guess. It could also be considered the first head massage (lmao), as I like to think 2D is good with his hands in various scenarios 😉. (I adapted the head massage into scenes in later fics, but this was the first time I worked with it as a concept.)

If there are any “M” or “D” I apologize! When I was starting out, I was too self-conscious to write their entire names (lmao @ me). Oh, how things have changed. Hopefully, I corrected them all, along with most of the typos...

The rating here is T. Essentially, Murdoc encounters 2D late at night when he can’t sleep, and ends up watching a movie with him. They begin to form a tentative bond, head massages are had as much needed sleep. Takes place during P1.

Also happy bday again, Murdoc 😭

For Murdoc, sleeping is a daunting game of chance. First, there are the good nights, when he drinks enough to remain in a complete stupor until daylight. Then, there are the bad nights when his body’s need for genuine slumber catches up with him. On these nights, he dreams. More often than not, they come to him in the form of nightmares ranging from painfully specific to vague and unsettling. Like a flood, all of the emotions and thoughts he had intended to leave behind in Stoke return.

Tonight is one of those nights.  

This one, in particular, is the reason he’s left the grimy safety of his Winne, head still aching. He intends to rummage through the studio mini-fridge for the half-consumed bottle of rum he started that morning. (after all, his anxiety wasn’t going to fix itself). Instead, he's thrilled to discover the fridge has been restocked, and he's about to grab an unopened bottle of rum when he's interrupted by a crash coming from the direction of the lobby.

The noise is coming towards the kitchen now in slow, shuffling steps. Murdoc presumes it could either be one of the wayward demons he summoned the other day, or it could be another one of the building's many intruders looking for a blank wall to vandalize. Nothing he wants to deal with now in his anxious state. Murdoc considers making a run for his Winnebago but decides against it. ‘You’re Murdoc Niccals” he thinks to himself, ‘Bass god and creative genius. You're not ten anymore and you don't get scared.' With that, he braces himself and he turns to face the unknown figure that was now in the doorway.

“Oh...Hi, Murdoc.”

It’s 2D.

“I've got half a mind to lob you through another car window,” he says trying to mask his surprise. “What the hell are you doing walking around with the lights off in the middle of the night?” That must have been the source of the noise. Typical. It’s as if 2D is intentionally searching for a way to get injured.

2D scratches his head. “No need to get so steamed up about it. I, uh, well, I guess I was trying to keep to the ambiance and all that. I didn’t think anyone else would be awake right now.”

“I don’t know what’s so unexpected. I get more done in a night that you would in a year,” Murdoc replies. He takes a sip of one of the bottles of rum he’s assembled on the counter. “So long as there are still songs to write, the siestas can wait.”

“Not sleeping well then?” 2D asks blithely. Murdoc can’t tell if the singer has seen right through him or failed to comprehend a word of what he just said. He finds him very unreadable at times, and in the most infuriating way.

“No. I was working. Being productive. You ought to try it once in a while,” Murdoc grumbles in response. “Anyways. What’s all this about the ‘ambiance’?” As if 2D is that deep. “And why here?”

“That new zombie movie, you know the one I was telling you about? Well, it arrived today,” 2D says with a grin. “And now I’m watching it. It’s a lot scarier when you do it the dark.”

“Well you have a TV, no, THREE TVs in your room,” Murdoc retorts, exasperated. “Just go away and watch it there.”

“Yeah, uh, l thought about that, but the special effects in this one are supposed to be wicked good and the screen in the lobby has a clearer picture than the screens in my room. I would have watched it this afternoon, but Russel said Noodle shouldn’t be watching all the blood and guts, so I waited until now. It’s better watching scary movies late at night anyway, you know?” 2D is looking at Murdoc now, a tinge of hopefulness in his voice. “A couple blokes on this forum I was reading were describing it like a Romero meets Raimi type film, really over the top.”

“Sounds like a real Oscar winner you have there,” the sarcasm in Murdoc’s voice is palpable.

“Actually, it was a straight to video release, but you should check it out,” 2D says. “I’m only about ten minutes in now...if you have...time,” he trails off awkwardly.

The band had faced many inexplicable and absurd situations, but it is 2D’s consistent attempts to be friends that confounded Murdoc the most. His first inclination to tell the singer to fuck off. Yet the thought of the solitary journey back through the car park gives him pause. He isn't sure he can handle being alone right now. He needs an immediate distraction, a mood lifter, and making fun of 2D has the potential to be a two in one solution. At the very least, it was a safer gamble than going back and running the risk of falling asleep again.

Murdoc makes 2D wait for an answer in uncomfortable silence before replying. “Fine,” he says, “This better be entertaining.”

2D brightens at his response. “Just let me grab some snacks and then we can go back.”

“Yeah, yeah. Oh, and this time turn on the damn lights.”

With some newly acquired light and a bag of crackers in hand, 2D leads Murdoc to the lobby. A collection of pillows and blankets litter the floor. All the while, and to Murdoc’s annoyance, he takes the time to tell him every detail of the conception of his setup. He had been in the lobby for the past four hours watching movies. According to 2D, doing so in such an open area was much scarier than in his room or even in the building’s cinema. He was also sorry because they would have to turn the lights off again when the film starts. “Because well, you know, Muds. The ambiance.”

“Just start the bloody movie will you,” Murdoc replies from his spot on the floor. The size of Kong is intimidating at night, and it’s not helping him calm down. He hates how much his dreams still affect him. Physically, he had left all the bad energy behind ages ago, but mentally it follows him like a low-hanging mist, threatening to completely engulf him daily. He couldn't seem to make it go away, but he could control how much he thought about it. Alcohol was typically his mainstay but right now, that job belonged to an unwitting 2D. If he didn’t start the movie soon, Murdoc was going to set his entire movie collection on fire.

“It’s the little triangle that does the trick, right?” 2D asks as he studies the remote. “Never mind. I think I have it. There we go.”

The scene starts with a group of young adults in their twenties hiking through the woods as night falls. Occasionally, the camera switches angles. It shows the group from alternate perspectives such as the bushes or the tops of trees.

“The director wanted to flip the whole slow zombie portrayal on its head,” 2D explains. “There’s already been talk of fast zombies in the indie horror community, but he wants to take that one step further. In an interview, he said that not only were his zombies going to be fast, but they were also going to fly.”

“That’s stupid. And you thought this was worth the twenty or so quid you blew on it?”

“He’s ahead of his time. You’ll see. Look,” 2D says through a mouthful of crackers. He points to the current scene. One of the protagonists had wandered away from his group in search of a good place to set up camp. “See what he does with the camera there? We’re watching the main character from the perspective of a flying zombie. The director wanted to make a movie about an outbreak that emerges in the wilderness, not because of some virus. It's meant to add to the impossibility of the situation. How do we fight against something not man-made? Watching the film through the eyes of the monster emphasizes how alone and insignificant we are in the face of well, everything. Man versus nature, nature versus man.”

Murdoc grabs the bag of crackers from 2D. “Oh please. This is hardly cutting edge. We all know they’ll all be dead in the end because nature is bigger than man. Duh.” He takes a handful for himself and continues watching.

2D ignores him and continues his reflection. “It makes me wonder whether it would be better to be a zombie at the end, rather than survive. Not sure I would want the loneliness that comes with it.”

Murdoc is beginning to realize that 2D is in one of his chatty, philosophical moods. He attempts to tune out the singer’s blathering with another drink from the bottle of rum he brought with him from the kitchen. He came here to watch a ridiculous movie. Instead, he's stuck listening to banal musings about the true nature of humanity from someone with a half-functioning brain.

“Well if there’s ever a zombie apocalypse here, I’ll be sure to let them eat you first if you’re so eager. You’re already halfway there anyway, and certainly no better off than these divs on screen.”

“Thanks, Muds. If I ever get infected, I’ll make sure not to bite you...unless you want me too,” 2D replies.

This time, it’s Murdoc's turn to ignore him. “Anyways, as far as I’m concerned, anyone who’s too pathetic to fight against a zombie apocalypse deserves whatever is coming to them.” He gets a twisted sense of comfort from blaming.

“I dunno...I don’t see any shame in being afraid of a monster bigger than you. That’s what makes these movies so scary. We all have our own monsters that seem impossible to overcome,” 2D says sagely. “It’s not anyone’s fault, it’s just how it is.”

Murdoc scowls. “Does watching movies at this hour always turn you into a half-braindead Socrates? Or Plato? Hippocrates? He's just naming names now. He fidgets.  

On-screen, another character screams as one of the zombies bites her arm.

“Are you alright there, Muds?” Why did 2D have to pick up on everything? “Movie too scary for ya?”

“No!” Murdoc snaps. “It’s not that… It’s just...” Neither 2D nor the rum he grabbed from the fridge earlier had done anything to dull his current bout of nerves. Instead, all the tension has been gathering at the base of his neck. The throbbing in his head from before is even worse. He groans in frustration.

“You just seem a little on edge, that’s all.”

“...It’s my head.”

“Oh, you have a headache,” 2D says, seemingly pleased that it’s an issue well within the breadth of his expertise. “Do you need any help with it? I was talking with my mum about mine just last week; she gave me something good.”  

Murdoc perks up. He could count on one hand the number of scenarios where he would place his trust in 2D. Pain medicine was one of them. A strong painkiller could change everything. “Do you happen to any of those buggers with you now?”

“Sure,” 2D says, smiling as he moves closer to where Murdoc is sitting.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m um, well for this to work I’m actually going to have to touch your head.”

Immediately, Murdoc jerks away. “You what?!”

2D shrinks back in response. “It’s just a head massage, Muds.  My mum’s worried about the number of prescriptions I have so we cut one of the stronger ones out and replaced it with this. We wanted to see if it made a difference. I’ve been going to a massage therapist for the past two weeks or so. It doesn’t quite do the trick but it works well enough, I picked up some technique myself, uh, I think.”

“You can take all that geeky zen rubbish and sod off,” Murdoc mutters.

“Okay, Muds...alright.”

They continue watching the screen as victim after victim gets infected. 2D continues to interject with overlong descriptions about symbolism, zombie lore, and film technique. Murdoc weighs his options. If he’s being honest, he’s at a point where he would accept anything that might make him feel better. But why did it have to be 2D? On the other hand, the singer wouldn’t stop talking. Considering it was just the two of them, and no one else would ever have to find out, Murdoc makes his decision. Allowing 2D to touch his head in this scenario was justified. Interrupting yet another explanation about the folly of man, he asks, “Hey uh...2D? You know that massage you were talking about? Will giving me one make you shut up for more than ten minutes?”

“Oh..uh,” 2D sounds surprised. “Yeah. Yeah, we can give it a try.” Hesitantly, he moves behind Murdoc and begins.

2D’s fingers send tiny sparks along Murdoc’s scalp as he kneads the muscles in his forehead, moving downwards along his hairline. He dwells on how amazing it feels but pushes that thought to the side with haste. He keeps his eyes locked on the screen and the excessive depictions of gore and chaos. It’s an apt representation of turmoil he is currently feeling inside. What he finds so maddening about 2D, even more than his inscrutability and empty-headedness, was his willingness to be kind to Murdoc. Murdoc had spent the past twenty or so years convincing himself that kindness was not meant to be a part of his life. There was something inherent to his existence that repelled it from him. And he had come to accept that until 2D had to come along and mess it all up. It had to be because he was just too stupid, there was no other answer. Murdoc wasn’t sure he would be able to handle any other answer.

As 2D moves his hands to the back of Murdoc’s head, he begins softly humming. He begins following along to the soundtrack of the movie but soon trails off on his own. Evidently, watching the movie without any sort of verbalization was not going to happen. However, the melody he’s come up with is wistful and soothing. Murdoc makes a mental note to ask him about it in the morning to see if it would fit with some lyrics he had drafting. Slowly, and a bit self-consciously, Murdoc feels himself begin to relax.

“How does it feel so far? Is it working?” 2D asks.

Oh, it was working. More than that, Murdoc realizes a significant amount of his tension had abated. The darkness of the lobby no longer looks so menacing, the unpleasant memories that were hovering over him seem to have floated away. He's never been able to settle himself down from a bad night without copious amounts of alcohol. It’s an unfamiliar but pleasant sensation.

“I think the movie is almost over. Didn’t quite live up to the hype but it was still pretty entertaining after all. How about you?” 2D asks, still looking for a response.

Murdoc yawns. “I’ll give this director you were so excited about some credit. He knows his way around a good death scene. I don’t think I’ve ever seen fake blood used that way before.”

“The fake blood actually cause a lot of controversies because some of it was real animal blood. I almost didn’t buy it myself.”

“Ah. A man after my own heart.” 2D’s hands are still kneading the back of his head when Murdoc moves to lie down on his stomach.

“Oh, are you going to sleep now?” 2D asks.

“No. Keep going.” He would have never considered it earlier in the night but, as the singer's fingers continue to run through his hair, Murdoc muses that sleep may not sound so bad after all. Even though it was just 2D, it’s comforting to have him there. 

“So I guess it’s been helping then? My mum will glad to hear,” 2D says. “But you might want to run a comb through your hair a bit more often, it’s all greasy...also a bit tangled in the back.”

“Just...shut up.”

So he does, returning to the reflective melody he had been humming just minutes ago. It’s the singer’s soft croon that sticks in Murdoc's mind as he finally drifts off completely.

-------

When his eyes open, the first thing Murdoc notices is the half-empty bottle of rum he had left by his side. The next thing he notices is that he's still in the lobby, surrounded by blankets. He must have slept there the entire night. 

“Oh, morning, Muds,” comes a familiar voice just to the right of him. “You’re awake.”

Turning quickly in the direction of the voice, Murdoc finds himself face to face with 2D. “What the hell are you still doing here?” M demands, mortified, “Why didn’t you go back to your own room?”

“Well, I was going to do that, but once you laid down, I wanted to lay down too, and you rolled over on my arm and wouldn’t budge. I tried to tell you, but all you did was try and elbow me. You missed though,” 2D mumbles. It sounds like he’s still half asleep. “Then I guess I just nodded off.”

Murdoc feels his embarrassment beginning to morph into anger but decides to ignore it. He's pretty comfortable right where he is. “You’re lucky you’re my lead singer.” 2D was also lucky that he gave good head massages. “Because otherwise, you would be on some really thin ice right now.”

“We’ll be lucky to see any ice at all this winter what with all the warm weather.”

Usually, an obtuse response from 2D would have earned him a string of insults or a swat on the head. Today was not going to be one of those days. Murdoc turns again so that he’s facing away from the singer, pulling the blanket over his head to block out the light. He was going to savor the moment a bit longer. Despite 2D being 2D, it’s rare that he’s ever felt so at peace.

“Hey, Murdoc? Wait,” 2D says, “You never gave me my arm back.”

“Too bad. I’ll check back in a couple hours,” Murdoc grins beneath the blanket. He still couldn’t pass up a chance to inconvenience the singer at every opportunity. It was too much fun.

“Don’t be such a wanker,” 2D says as he attempts to jerk his arm out from underneath the bassist. “I was nice to you!”

He was right. And he was probably nicer than he deserved, given their history. For that reason, Murdoc would roll off his arm soon enough. He still wanted to talk to him about that song he had been humming.

The singer had surprised him last night. Murdoc knew that 2D had an uncanny ability to figure out how to annoy him to maximum effect, but he never would have expected him to also know what to do to put him at ease. Underneath the covers, he ponders what exactly this realization means to him. He isn’t sure, but he knows it means something. It wasn’t going to eliminate the underlying resentment he still clung to, nor was it going to solve his infinite list of issues. But at the very least, he could rest assured knowing that he wasn’t completely alone.

[flying-nightwing]

Shame and Toxic Fame (vol. 1)

Ah! I’m back with a two (maybe three?) part story which is kinda inspired by the song Life of the Party by All Time Low (not shawn mendes lmao). If you don’t know it check it out it’s super good. 

In this one reader is a famous singer because why not! Hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Jason Todd x Music star!reader

Word count: 3727

Warnings: Mention of substance abuse (both alcohol and drugs), light bar fight violence

I spent an embarassing amount of time searching for a gif for this one oof

The night was going absolutely great until you took a look at yourself in the mirror during a quick fix up.

You were a mess.

Your red eyes were contrasting with your smudged dark makeup, your bronzer and highlighter were mostly gone and the poor imitation of a lipstick stain was stretched all over your mouth and teeth. You lifted a hand to fix it, but in your dizzy state, it didn’t do much. Your purple top was ruined with alcohol and your bracelets were stuck on your skin from the sugar of your drinks’ mixers. You had a moment of lucidity right there, asking how the hell you ended up at rock bottom so quick, but you didn’t like it. You reached in your pocket and took the last smiley face pill in your little plastic bag, and like it, you put a grin on your face and returned to the party. You grabbed a bottle of wine from the bar, made your way over the passed out people on the ground and rejoined the dancefloor. 

You were dancing, high on the colors and sound waves around you when the illusion shattered. 

Your ex walked in with his friends, laughing and joking like he owned the place. You gasped in offense at the audacity of him showing up to your birthday party. At your place. Like he hadn’t humiliated you publicly less than a month ago in front of the whole world. Your grip on the bottle tightened and you stomped in his direction. His friends noticed your first, halting their laugh and tapping him on the chest. His eyes met yours and they widened in humour at your state.

“You!” You screamed. The music turned down, the chatter died. Murmurs went around the crowd and cameras got taken out as people formed a circle around you. 

“Me” He pointed at himself.

“How dare you!” You pushed him back, suddenly unhinged. He laughed with the crowd, holding his hands up in defense. But he wasn't taking you seriously. “How dare you show up here!”

“It said open house, darling” Now he was patronizing. “I can be here. Beside, happy birthday”

“Get out” You gritted your teeth. “GET OUT”

“No”

Without really thinking, you lifted your bottle and slammed it on the table, shattering it. Yelps went around the crowd, and they got even louder when you pointed the jagged end in his direction.

“Wow WOW” He backed up. “Fucking crazy bitch!”

You couldn’t really recall what went next. People came in between you two as he kept shouting for someone to “take this crazy bitch away from him”. Arms restrained you around the waist, you threw up, you think, and you blacked out.

--------

You groaned as you felt sunlight hit your eyes. You threw an arm over your face and forced yourself not to think about your fragile stomach. The taste in your mouth was foul and your head was pounding like crazy. Now you had become quite the expert on hangovers lately, but this one was definitely the worst you had ever had. And it became only worse when memories from the night before started to come back, if it was even possible. 

The thought of that shitshow alone made you puke. 

You turned around in your bed, knowing you’d have to clean the alcohol off your floor anyway. Beside, you wouldn’t have made it to the bathroom on time. But to your surprise, you found a metal bucket at the foot of the bed, ready for you to grab and hurl the content of your stomach in it. Only when you didn’t have anything more to throw up that you realized you did not own anything like this bucket, or that the bedside table had gone from your cherry wood to an unfamiliar oak grey. Thinking about it, you didn’t own a navy blue carpet, nor were your sheets that color either. 

Fuck.

You looked around in panic when you realized that you were not, in fact, in your bedroom. You had been changed into a large t-shirt, but you still had your underwear underneath it as well as your purple tank top. You half sighed in relief, then hissed at the pounding in your head. You had sat up way too quickly and now you made it worse. Your eyes were dragged to the bucket, and your nose scrunched up. You would have thrown up again if there had been anything left in your stomach. Then your eyes trailed to the grey oak night table, on which there was your phone (plugged in a charger?) beside two ibuprofen and a glass of water. 

Without question, you took them and drank the water slowly to make them pass. You were parched, but your stomach did not like the input of liquid right now. When you were sure the water wouldn’t come back out, you slowly reached for your phone and flinched even before turning on the lockscreen. Your fears were confirmed when you came face to face with about a hundred texts with the same thumbnail and a lot of capital letters and punctuation. You had a ridiculous amount of notifications from every social apps you had, and they were still getting in as you stared in shock at your screen. Your hand flew to your mouth, not from the threat of puking this time. Tears brimmed your eyes as you realized just exactly what you had put yourself into. You shook your head, feeling your breathing accelerate. You were overwhelmed, and instead of opening conversations--any conversation--you just shut your phone down and threw it on the floor.

“What have I done” You mumbled to yourself, trying to swallow back the panic attack threatening to surface. Dragged in the mud the remaining of your pride, that’s what you did.

A quiet knock on the door pulled you back from your own spiral of shame. You didn’t speak. “Uh, (Y/N), are you okay? I heard a thud from here”

“Yeah” You replied, and you voice came back more hoarse than you thought. The voice was male, and it seemed uncertain. You did not recognize it. “Thanks”

“... Can I come in?”

You considered refusing, as you were still too ashamed to face anyone, and still unsure about the intention of whoever brought you here. But then again, they didn’t seem to have touched you, and they asked to come in rather than barge in. Also, they had left a bucket. That was the most anyone did for you in a while. 

“S-Sure”

The door creaked open and a tall man with dark hair stood behind it. He peeked inside, like he was hesitant to step in further, but he nodded to himself when he saw you weren't dead. And if you looked like a dressing room carpet after a Guns and Roses after party, which you most certainly did, he did not let it show on his face. 

“I just wanted to make sure you were alright” He hummed. “Last night, you seemed pretty… Uh...”

“Wasted? Trashed? Ridiculous?” You offered with a sad smile, waiting for him to laugh at you or show you a video of what you did.

“I was thinking more of in need of a hand” He replied gently, taking you aback. “My brother and I brought you back here before the paps could swarm the place, but don’t worry my sister changed you. I wasn’t--”

You looked down at the shirt, then back at him.

“Thanks” Your eyes filled with water again. 

“Oh, hey, no please--” He rushed inside. “Please don’t cry”

Obviously, that was the one thing not to say, because as if on cue you began crying. He grabbed the tissue box on the desk and brought it to you. You mumbled a thanks and blew your nose with all the grace left you possessed. Now you must have truly looked like a sight for sore eyes, bawling in a stranger’s bedroom as he handed you tissues. 

“Hey, come on, it’s okay” He shushed, giving you awkward pats on the back. You could tell he didn’t do that often, judging by his awkwardness, but it did make you feel better. At least he wasn’t judging you like he should be; he must have seen the pathetic excuse of a fight that had gone down at your party. “Let it all out”

You finally calmed down after a few minutes, sniffing and wiping your eyes. You took a deep breath, then another one and nodded. Your glance trailed up to his face, and much to his credit he did not grimace at your state from up close. He seemed uncomfortable, but not enough to be on the verge of running away. If anything, he did look genuinely concerned, which was unusual for your typical entourage. “What’s your name?”

“Jason”

“That’s a nice name” You lifted the corner of your lips. “Where are we?”

“Wayne Manor”

Your eyes widened. He’s that Jason?

“Yeah” Amusement overtook his features while you froze. He figured you did not intend to say that out loud. 

You were in the Wayne Manor with an actual legend, and you hadn’t even realized it. He was even more famous than you, mostly for being the Wayne son that was found after two years of having disappeared. 

“I’m sorry to tell you that your reputation is now forever tainted” You scoffed weakly. “Bringing back the breakdown diva will make people talk”

He snorted. “I doubt that’s the thing I’ll be remembered about”

You frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I, uh” He scratched the back of his neck. “You really don’t recall what went down yesterday?”

“No” You shook your head. “I can’t see past the moment I yelled at my ex to get out”

“Okay… Just to be sure, he was the bad guy, right?” He flinched, and your eyebrows knitted in confusion. “I might uh. You know what, it’ll just be easier to show you”

He fished out his phone out of his back pocket and pulled out a video, then dragged the time mark to one specific moment. He handed you the phone and you pressed play. It started as you smashed the bottle, making wine explode everywhere including on yourself. Not your proudest moment. Then the crowd shrieked and people came to break the fight, you were pulled out of view as Jason appeared, trying to make your ex back off. Something the mic didn’t quite catch was said, and that’s when you saw what he meant. In barely a second, Jason blocked your ex’s punch and replied with two quick ones of his own. Your ex was sent flying backwards, unconscious and bloody, and the video ended with that.

Your jaw dropped. “Oh god”

“Yeah” He sighed. “Sorry”

“Sorry?” Your eyes flickered back to him as you handed him his phone. “N-No, don’t be. I mean, he definitely deserved that”

It was his time to be taken aback.

“You’re good with that?”

“Obviously” You gave him a small smile. “I just wish I was the one who punched him”

“Well, judging by the smash bottle of wine you were holding up, I’d say you came pretty damn close” 

You allowed yourself to chuckle before you remembered you were still a surprise guest in the manor. Jason had helped you out, but he and his family would probably want you out of their home as soon as possible. You looked down at your laps and fidgeted with your fingers.

“I, uh, I should go” You mumbled. “I don’t want to burden you much longer with my presence, uh, you must want me out of here”

He blinked.

“You’re not a burden” He replied. “You still seem pretty shaken up. You can stay here as long as you want, the house is certainly big enough”

You bit the inside of your cheek. On one hand, you really did feel like imposing. On the other hand, the offer really did sound tempting. You weren’t ready to face the world just yet, and Wayne Manor was the perfect hideout for you to ride out the embarrassment. But Jason had already been way too nice to you as it was, and it was more than you deserved.

You shook your head. “Thanks, but--”

“I know you don’t want to go” He interrupted you softly. “I can see it, and I understand. You don’t have to expose yourself to the vultures just yet”

You felt the back of your neck heat up. You had no idea any of Bruce Wayne’s kid would be so… Not what you thought they’d be. You surely did not expect that level of kindness. 

“Don’t you worry, we’ve all been there” He looked up, then gave you a knowing smile. “Take your time, there’s a bathroom right behind this door, fresh clothes in the drawers and a fully stocked kitchen when you’re ready to eat something. I make an amazing hangover smoothie”

He stood up and walked to the door.

“Thank you, Jason”

He nodded, then left you to do your stuff. You remained on the bed for a couple of minutes, texting a few people close to you you were okay, before you got a draft of your own smell. You gagged and immediately went for the shower.

------

Freshly showered and changed, you timidly headed down to the kitchen. You got lost a few times on the way there, but you finally made it. You were relieved there was only Jason preparing food; you weren’t sure coming face to face with Bruce Wayne would be a great idea in your state. You were all cleaned up, but even a good wash couldn’t erase the bags under your eyes or the pounding in your head that made you flinch every now and then.

“Feeling better?” 

“Much better” You smiled. “Thank you”

“Hey, no problem” He chuckled as he pushed a glass with a thick, pale green liquid your way. “Besides, it’s kind of an honor to have you here”

You cocked your head to the side.

“I mean, you’re pret-ty amazing” He said, taking a bite of his toast. “You have some admirers around here… Talking of which”

You followed his glance behind you, where a grinning, wide eyed young man was standing. You knew who he was, Dick Grayson was hard not to notice around Gotham. You were just surprised of his reaction from seeing, apparently, well, you. 

“Hi” He smiled even brighter, if it was possible. “I’m Dick. Big fan”

“Hi” You gave him a small wave back. 

“How are you feeling?”

“Uh?”

“I was there too yesterday. I held you up when you, well”

“Oh” You looked away. So, that was the brother that had witnessed your disgrace in live action. Super. “Yeah, I feel better, thanks”

“Great!” The sound made you flinch as it resonated in your head, making him mutter a sheepish apology. 

“Alright Grayson, now’s not the time to be a fanboy” Jason teased, before he turned to face you. “Come, I’ll show you somewhere quiet to pass the hangover”

You grabbed your glass and followed him out of the kitchen and around the manor to some remote room on the end of a wing. He pushed the door open to a room with wide windows and warm lightning, a library you realized by the few bookshelves around. 

“Make yourself comfortable” He gestured to the seats around. “It’s the most relaxing place in the house, because my siblings are not allowed here”

“Why is that?”

“My library, my rules” 

“Your library?” You raised your eyebrows, but he just shrugged. 

“They can use the big one” He explained. “This is my space, and it comes handy when you have four annoying siblings”

“Gotcha” You smiled lightly as you walked around the room, observing the book titles. He had interesting tastes, you had no idea again he was that kind of guy. Well, you knew next to nothing about him, come to think of it. But the little you thought you had right from the tabloids was totally wrong. You kept snooping around as he sat in a chair and opened a book, until you came face to face with a beautiful acoustic six strings waiting there. You reached for it, but pulled your hand back last second. When you glanced back at Jason, he was already looking at you above his book. 

“May I?”

“Knock yourself out” He gestured to it, then returned to his book.

You restrained your new found excitement as you carefully picked the guitar up from its stand and carried it to a seat. A couple of strums told you it was slightly out of tune, so you adjusted the keys until it sounded on the note. You began playing the strings softly and humming along, until you felt Jason’s stare on you. His book was down on his laps and he had an interested glint in his eyes. Your fingers paused as you felt once again the heat creep up your neck. 

“I’m sorry if I’m disturbing your reading” You mumbled, suddenly feeling bad for violating his silent heaven.

“No, don’t worry” He reassured. “It’s quite nice. Did you compose that yourself?”

“Uh, yeah” You nodded. “It’s been so long, though. I don’t compose much anymore”

“Why?”

You smiled sadly. “I now have an extensive team of producers that make my music for me. Apparently, getting that catchy, polished, flawless radio hit is the priority these days. Better for business”

“Yeah well, that’s bullshit if you ask me” He leaned slightly forward. “I think a personal, heartfelt song will always be better”

“You and I both” You sighed. “Honestly I have no idea how I ended up here, or where I went wrong”

“What do you mean?” His eyebrows drew in confusion. “You didn’t go that bad”

“Are you kidding me?” You choked on air, your eyes widening. “Haven’t you followed the tabloids the last year? Hell, you were there yesterday. You saw how trashed I was, and that was hardly an exception. I have earned a title of Breakdown Princess for a reason”

“Maybe” He shrugged. “But you were part of a culture putting inhuman pressure on public figures, especially women to perform and be perfect all the time ever since you were what, sixteen? And with what I’ve seen from that guy I punched… Anyway. All I’m saying is, don’t blame yourself too much for a game you were tricked to play”

You could only stare at him blankly, blinking rapidly. You had expected him to get it a bit, with being the son of Bruce Wayne and all. But holy shit, even you had never seen it like this before. Maybe he had a point. When you looked at it, the pressure you endured from everyone around you, the endless parties your agent had booked you to attend, the new album, the promos and press tours, actual tours, the substance addiction scandal, all the shit with your ex that tanked your reputation, hitting rock bottom… 

The last year had been hell, to say the least.

“How do you know all that?” Your question was genuine, and he gave you a quizzical half smile and a little shrug.

“When I told you earlier that we’ve all been there…” He trailed off. “Just know that I know how it feels. To have pressure to be someone you’re not”

“Well” You took a deep breath. “Thank you, I think I needed to hear that”

“Don’t mention it” He leaned back in his chair, before his expression subtly changed. “Actually, I’d have a little request, if you don’t mind”

“Go ahead” 

“Could you play that song for me?” He asked. “I’d like to hear it”

You smiled and nodded at the innocence of his request. Of course you could do that to the person that literally swooped in and saved the day, and provided you with care after your own shit show. You began strumming the song you were playing just before, this time fully singing along. It had been years since you had played it, but it was your favourite you had ever written, and you still remembered it by heart. It made you smile even more, definitely bringing you in a good mood. You played the last chords of the song and looked up to see Jason hanging onto every sound.

“I…” He began. “Wow. Why was that never released again?”

You shrugged lightly. “My agent wouldn’t let me, I guess”

“You should release it anyway” He continued. “This is honest to god amazing”

“Thanks” You let out a quiet laugh, scratching the back of your neck. “Honestly, I wish I could just… Fire everyone. And get back to the basics, release my on stuff, you know?”

“Then do it”

“I can’t just do it” You replied quickly in confusion. “There are contracts and--”

“Sure you can” He said, an amused yet relaxed expression on his face. “I, Jason Todd, give you the explicit permission to use the Wayne name to scare any lawyer getting in the way of your full emancipation”

You laughed at his self assured grin, but also to hide your surprise. Of course, you knew the Wayne lawyers were the best in town and would most probably put the fear of god in the heart of your record label and agent, but you still weren’t sure if he was kidding or not.

“I’m serious” He added after a moment. “If you need help to get out of these contracts, we’re more than willing to help”

“You’d do that for me?” You asked carefully. “I’m just a stranger”

“Ah well, helping strangers is kind of our thing here” He hummed, looking up at the ceiling before his glance met yours again. “Besides, it’s really cool that you’re here. All of us will so be plugging that we know you in every conversation from now on. Especially Dick”

You laughed again, lighter this time.

“Be my guest” You grinned. “I doubt it’ll achieve anything but raised eyebrows these days but if it makes you feel good…”

“Superb” His grin matched yours. “Now, I’ll let you play in peace”

“And I’ll let you read in peace”

You exchanged a smile, then kept messing around the chords as he picked up his book again.