#me with that tek it song

[mianeko]

have you ever loved a song so much that you wish you could inject it into your veins and have it flow through your body?

[applestruda]

RANCHERS PROPAGANDA

VOTE TANGO AND JIMMY

[ryanthel0ser]

Star ~ Colde

[laddertek]

I got into tangtho so quickly after being obsessed with decked out 2 and finding your blog was a godsend 🙏 thank you for all your work

aaaa thank you this makes me happy!! I'm so glad you're enjoying them too :D ty for dropping this ask 🤗 DO2 is such a golden age we're living in right now fr <3

[canarydarity]

strawberry wine (and all the time we used to have)

They hadn’t thought it worth it to ready both horses to pop over to Grian’s for a quick minute, so they’d just shared the one. Of course, a quick minute it was not, and the brief welcome back visit turned into why don’t you stay for dinner, which turned into I think I have some ale, which turned into, well, sharing one horse riding home in the post-midnight darkness, full and a little bit tipsy. 

Which was how Tango knew with certainty by the way Jimmy was slumped behind him—head resting on the back of his shoulder, his forehead to Tango’s neck—that he’d fallen asleep. Jimmy’s sleep-slackened hands, which had once been wrapped around Tango’s waist (for practicality reasons, of course, they were sharing one horse, after all) had fallen loose and rested on Tango’s thighs. 

He made sure to keep their pace slow, trying not to jostle them enough that the lack of a true hold would cause much of a problem. They weren’t that far from home, anyway, and Tango didn’t mind going slow.

The night was cold, but Jimmy against his back was keeping him warm, and Tango could hardly complain about that. It was quiet, but only if you were talking in terms of speech or manmade noise; crickets and cicadas were singing in loud conjunction, and leaves and branches rustled in the wind picking up the melody; the occasional night bird would call out, and it’s friend or long-lost lover would reply in kind. 

Jimmy made a small noise in his sleep, and Tango chuckled, adjusting his grip on the reigns and doing his best to keep them steady. In the distance, he could almost make out the lantern light that marked the end of their long dirt drive, and Tango felt undoubtedly a little disappointed; he would take a few more minutes of this ride if he could. Then again, when it came to Jimmy, he’d always take a few more minutes whenever they were offered. 

And he’d remind Jimmy of that whenever he needed him to, as it seemed he often did; by design or not, Jimmy was stuck with him now, and Tango would wheedle and barter for as many minutes as the universe would give them. 

Tango remembered a night soon after they’d first settled down where Jimmy had sat him on the couch and started talking very seriously about a curse; it was meant to be a warning, but he twisted his hands together as he explained that it always came too late to change anything, and so it was labeled a curse instead. After time, it seemed more like a burden. Where Jimmy went, disaster followed—or so he’d said. 

Tango wasn’t inclined to believe in curses. He’d initially wanted to laugh, actually; he didn’t, because Jimmy seemed deeply unnerved yet certain about what he was saying, and Tango would never laugh about something that was upsetting him. It wasn’t even that he didn’t think there was any truth in it; he believed that things had happened to Jimmy and that his luck was more rotten than most—but he would be damned if he believed Jimmy had anything to do with it; that Jimmy called it upon himself simply by existing; that he, in some cosmically fucked up way, asked for it by finding happiness again and again, taunting some sick version of fate. No, Tango couldn’t believe that. 

How could something as wonderful as him—as them—ever be cursed? 

That was what he’d found so laughable. And he’d think it again a thousand times in the months that followed; when they’d tamed their first horse—the same one Jimmy had fallen off of an hour later, trying to ride before they’d obtained a saddle (Adequate, the same one they were sharing now); when their first winter came and Tango learned that Jimmy practically nested when it turned cold, layering every single blanket and pillow in the house into one pile as if he’d never be warm again; when he saw the way that Jimmy always somehow expertly knew what every animal needed with just a quick inspection (especially the cows, as those were his favorite).

Surely no curse could attach itself to such things. There was no room for that kind of poison to grow here, there were no roots for it to latch onto. Tango would make sure to stop it before it could. They were careful—safe, even; they double-checked the crops for infestation and they inspected the house and the barn for disrepair and they did the latch on every window on every floor before going to bed. 

Still, sometimes he felt time loom a little too heavily over them, or became too aware of its presence. In the end, he’d decided it didn’t matter how much of it they got: he’d take all that he was offered. And if some of that time had to be reserved for these extra safety measures and reassurances, he would not tire and he would not complain; not if they eased Jimmy’s mind, even if only slightly. 

Not if it got Jimmy to stop looking at him like he was calculating how much time they had left. He’d been doing it a lot less than he used to; after that first discussion about curses and time and the not-mentioned-but-still-thought-of end, Tango would sometimes catch Jimmy’s gaze lingering on him, his eyebrows drawn together and his mouth a thin line. It took him some time to catalog that look and understand what Jimmy was doing: bracing. He was running the numbers on all his worst-case scenarios and determining their end, when he’d need to be ready for it by. 

Tango didn’t want Jimmy looking at him and wondering when he’d be gone. Then again, wasn’t he doing the same thing, now? Reminiscing on them before they’d even ended?

Maybe this weirdly-insistent cycle of grief rehearsal that they were stuck in was the curse—daring them to waste all their time worrying about their ending, and therefore, bringing it about themselves. 

Tango didn’t think it was a bad thing to miss things—to know you’d miss things; to know you had something good and didn’t want to see it leave. To be aware that when—if, he would not validate the idea of a curse by saying when—things ended he’d wish they hadn’t. 

If he could lose Jimmy, he would; but he can’t, so he won’t. It was as simple as that. 

And, anyway, things had been better. Time seemed to move slower in the recent months. He’d catch Jimmy humming in his free time instead of performing doomsday math. He’d brought home more animals—the second horse, the cows, some chickens—let himself get settled. And occasionally—just occasionally—Tango would find him making a mindless comment about the future; he’d say, in a few months, we could— or what we should do next year instead is—

Progress; they’d been making progress. 

Jimmy had said he was a disaster, he brought disaster—but disasters were only disastrous because they could have been prevented and weren’t. Tango didn’t mind the extra precautions, not if it meant they got to have this, and not if it meant more nights like this one—Jimmy feeling safe enough to fall asleep without notice, sharing one horse, exhausted but in the good way; in the way that meant a hard days work had passed and a night with friends was enjoyed. 

The stable was just up ahead, and he’d definitely have to wake Jimmy up to get him inside. When he felt like he’d stalled as long as he could—because the night was indeed cold and getting colder and the longer they did this the higher the chance one or both of them would fall became—Tango eased them to a stop right inside the barn door, giving Adequate a good pat as he did. 

“Jimmy,” Tango jostled his shoulder a little, hoping to wake Jimmy up without startling him too much. “Jim, hun. Wake up.”

Jimmy shifted a little on his back; it really would be their luck to make it all the way home safely, but then have Jimmy fall off the horse as Tango tried to wake him up. Tango reached one of his hands backward, knowing it’d be useless at that angle but keeping it there just in case. 

“Jim, hey…Jimmy, wake up!” He turned his head to the side trying to look behind him as much as he could. 

At this Jimmy did startle awake, and had Tango not felt it in the weight being removed from his back then he would have in the way Jimmy frantically grabbed his waist again when he tilted just a little. Tango grabbed his arm as well, and Adequate took a step or two in place. 

“Woah, woahwoahwoah, okay,” Tango said, trying to re-instill calm. 

But Jimmy was too tired to panic, anyway. When they were once again secure all he said was, “oh my gosh, I fell asleep on the horse!” In a way that Tango knew was more for his own sleep-deprived processing than Tango’s needing to be told. 

“Yeah, I know, cowboy!” Tango laughed in reply, regardless. “You must’ve been tired.”

Jimmy climbed down from Adequate and Tango glanced to the side where he knew he’d finally be able to see him again. He watched Jimmy rub a hand over his face, not bothering to erase the bewildered expression away when he did. Tango laughed at him again, fondly, and Jimmy caught his eye and smiled back. 

“I cannot believe that just happened, I’m—oh my gosh, I’m so sorry, you had to ride back with me like that the whole way didn’t you? I didn’t mea—” Jimmy’s expression was turning from shy amusement to disbelief to worry and then even further past that as it often did. 

“Jim?”

“Wha—yeah?” Jimmy stopped, one hand on Adequate’s reigns the other on the horse's broad shoulder. He looked up at Tango, eyes wide. 

“Shut up.”

“Yeah, right—alright.” Jimmy smiled, “need help down?” 

Tango did not need help down, but he sure would like it. He grabbed Jimmy’s outstretched hand, swung his leg over Adequate, and dropped to the ground. He watched Jimmy lead Adequate back to his stall, whispering to the horse as he went. 

“Sorry ‘bout that, Adequate, hope we weren’t too much trouble for you. You’re a good horse, though, aren’t you, yeah…” Tango smiled as Jimmy paused; others might think he’d just run out of things to say, but Tango knew he was giving space for Adequate to respond as if the horse actually would. 

This moment—if he could only have just this moment over and over again, he thinks he’d be okay with that; if they couldn’t have all the ones passed it or as many as they could grab in a mad dash for more, Tango would happily live here, right now, floundering under the weight of such quiet satisfaction and impossible domesticity. It doesn’t even have to be this one specifically, he’d take any of the other dozen like it. This was the kind of mundanity he’d never get bored of, not if it saved them all the rest.

He understood then, with sudden clarity, that the privilege of having had this would always be worth more than the chance of losing it. The following realization hits just as hard; that Jimmy must have known this too—must have known it all along —or he would’ve turned tail and ran before his diaster-formulas had even finished computing. 

“Tango?” 

Tango looked back at Jimmy, standing before him yet again, a concerned look on his face; Tango was not often the one caught lost in thought. 

“Ready to go home?”

Home—he could have said ready to go inside, or simply, ready to go considering they were really only a 50-foot walk from their front door, but he’d chosen to say home. This house, this place they’d built and lived in together that was really so much more than the walls and roof it was made of. Tango would never forget the first time Jimmy had off-handedly called it home a few months ago; he hadn’t gotten used to it since, and he didn’t think he ever would. 

Tango smiled, “ready as I’ll ever be, partner.” His fake country accent wasn’t good, but that was why he did it. 

“That was… bad,” Jimmy said—though he laughed, which Tango considered a success. 

“Howdy partner,” he emphasized the accent more this time, spinning Jimmy around and pushing him towards the door. “Yee-haw! rootin’, tootin’, and shootin’...I don’t know. What else do cowboys say?”

“Tango, oh my gosh, stop.” Jimmy pushed him lightly as they started on the path toward the house, but Tango swiftly recovered, swinging an arm around Jimmy’s shoulder when he came back (which was somewhat of a feat, him being a bit shorter). 

“Oh come on, give me another one. You oughta know, don’t you, mister strong-and-capable ranch hand. Cowboyificate me!”

“Tango, those two are not at the same thing,” Jimmy protested. 

“Okay, now I know you’re lying to me—my accent’s probably not even that bad!”

The concept of time was so far away as to have been forgotten again as they made the short walk to their front door; for all they knew, there was only this, this picture—Tango teasing Jimmy, Jimmy pretending to be upset about it and indulging him anyway. It was always these moments, the random inconsequential ones that made Tango forget about it all in the end. The amount of time they might not have, the possibility of their ending being predisposed, the concept of missing something he hadn’t yet lost. Tango wished whatever time they did have left was exactly like this; filled with endless moments of meaningless nonsense—he wished they could feel such peaceful insignificance forever.

(love is fast asleep on a dirt road with your head on my shoulder or whatever it was the song said idk. read on ao3 here)

[zuble]

i’m always a little disappointed in myself whenever i download a song that’s popular on tiktok/the radio. predictable. pedestrian. and yet. it hits.

[smolvexx]

It takes two to Tango, right?

(original outfits by @beenc0)

[enhalpy]

fae hiii i hope ur doing well 🧸

[charliesinfern0]

thinkin abt song stuff.... and things....

[felikatze]

i need to make a comparison of episode 36 and 95 SO BAD but i DO NOT HAVE THE TIME ARGH

reading the new free ep was a MISTAKE obessing over melancholic media when nier music is still seared into my brain is a special type of hell

[astarlightmonbebe]

‘hi, anxiety’ by dollar signs gets it don’t they

[tomriddleslove]

The Black Lake, a shared blunt, and realisations.

✩Mattheo Riddle x Reader

Summary: The one where Mattheo has had enough. Everyone and everything seems to be agitating him, and he feels as though he can’t catch a break. Then you come along. Alternatively: You may just be his saving grace, hidden in plain sight.

Slight? Angst but mainly fluff

A/N: I get all my fic ideas when listening to music so bear with me when I say there’s a very certain vibe to this and you have to know the song to understand it.

Songs: Tek it - Cafuné

The clock strikes noon, and Mattheo couldn’t be more than relieved to finally leave the stuffy clasroom. Tossing his bag over his shoulder, he swiftly makes his way out of the classroom, ignoring the agitated glares of the other students he had so rudely shoved past.

Now Mattheo wishes he could say he wasn’t this rude that often. He didn’t really go out of his way to fight people per se, but it just so happened to be that he was quite confrontational and rather good at resolving things with his fists. However these past few days he had been more on edge than usual, snapping at almost everyone for reasons that were far beyond him.

Everything seemed to agitate him immensely, from the way lessons seemed to drag on, to his deskmates who all seemed to have a penchant for being the most agitating, infuriating people possible.

I mean, seriously? What could compel a person to chomp down on a beef sandwich in the middle of class at 10 in the morning? The professor may not have noticed but Mattheo most certainly did, having to spend the last hour with a raging headache trying to ignore the obnoxious chewing sounds and the revolting smell of beef.

He all but almost cries as he collapses down onto the sofa in the common room, grateful for the fact that everyone else seemed to have lessons currently. He closes his eyes for a millisecond, letting out a small sigh of frustration.

He feels the sofa dip beside him and that same frustration returns. He opens his eyes, ready to snap at whatever poor person had decided to sit next to him, but his gaze immediately softens when he realises it was you.

“Oh,” He murmurs, and a lazy grin tugs at your lips as you look over at him, raising a brow.

It’s remarkable just how quickly his mood seems to lighten when he sees you.

“Oh?” You repeat, amused.

“Mhmm. Just not in the mood for it recently and thought you were Belby or some other git. I was ready to hex you.” He murmurs, and you roll your eyes in mock admonishment as you reach for your book, leaning back into the sofa as you thumb through the pages.

“Charming, Riddle. Really, I feel flattered.” You say sarcastically, and the corners of Mattheo's mouth quirk upwards.

You and Mattheo were part of the same extended friend group. You weren’t the closest with him, yet you weren’t absolute strangers. You didn’t talk that much to one another, but got along surprisingly well. Mattheo was one of the only people (bar Blaise) who could match your wit and dry humour, and you were one of the few (if not only) people who didn't seem to annoy him.

You pay him no mind as you read your book, and with any other person, Mattheo would have been largely grateful for that. But for some bizarre reason, he wants you to speak to him.

He glances over at you for a second, admiring the way the gentle glow from the fireplace illuminates your face as you read.

How oblivious could one get?

You break the silence, peering down at your book as you speak.

“Do you have a double free period?”

Mattheo hums, looking over at you. He wants you to look up at him so badly, and he can’t tell why. It seemed as though he’d need a slap in the face to make him realise why he craved so much attention from you.

He shifts on the sofa, trying to appear nonchalant as he replies, "Yeah, luckily. No classes for the rest of the day. What about you?"

You glance up from your book, meeting his gaze with a faint smile. "Same here. Wanna come walk around with me?” You ask, and Mattheo nods, albeit a bit confused as to why you’d want to wander around in such cold weather aimlessly.

You reach into your robe pocket, producing a neatly rolled joint with a cheeky wag of your eyebrows. A grin spreads across Mattheo's face as he looks at you, and he raises a brow in mock disappointment.

“Am I seeing correctly, or has the academic prodigy of Hogwarts just suggested we use our valuable study time to get high?”Mattheo taunts, and you scoff, getting up.

“Piss off, Riddle. Are you coming or not?” You retort, glancing back at him.

He looks up at you, and his gaze lingers far too long on the way your eyes light up, your mouth forming a gentle curve as you smile at him and-

Oh god, Mattheo never really stood a chance, did he?

He nods, getting up as he grabs his robe and follows you. You both meander aimlessly through the empty corridors of Hogwarts, poking fun at the unfortunate students who still had lessons. As you walk past a classroom you catch a glimpse of Theodore, chin resting atop his palm as he sleepily gazes at the board. You snicker, nudging Mattheo as you both hide at the side of the doorway, peering into the class. Mattheo wraps an arm around your waist, moving you behind him and you ignore the way you reel at his touch, dazed for a second.

It doesn’t last long, however, for you're drawn out of your short-lived crisis when you spot Mattheo pulling his wand out from his pocket, discreetly pointing it in Theodore’s direction. It was rather astounding seeing how no other students in the class noticed you, but Professor Binn had a rather uncanny knack for getting people to fall into a zombie-like state of fatigue whenever they were in his class. You were convinced it had to be some sort of superpower.

With a short flick of his wand, Theodore's eyes widened as he yelped, hand shooting up to clasp over his upper arm.

As Theodore's yelp echoes through the classroom, everyone snaps out of their daze, their attention immediately drawn to the source of the disturbance. Theodore grimaces, sheepishly looking down as he tries to play it off. Unable to contain your laughter anymore, you snort, and the sound has everyone turning to look outside the classroom.

Mattheo grabs your hand, pulling you along as the two of you run down the corridor, laughter bubbling up from deep within you.

As you round a corner, out of sight from the classroom, you finally come to a stop, breathless from both the running and the laughter. Mattheo leans against the wall, trying to catch his breath as he looks at you with sparkling eyes.

It was amazing how he had gone from being so irate to so…. Carefree. He felt alive with you, like he could forget about the countless burdens that weighed down on him day in and day out.

“That was bloody brilliant,” You wheeze, clutching your ribs as you laugh. Mattheo grins, panting as he nods.

“Theodore’s hilarious. Can’t wait to hear him complain about that later on,” He muses and you snort, straightening up. You jerk your head to the side, motioning for him to join you as you slip out of the castle onto the school grounds. You leisurely walk down the fields, heading towards the Black Lake.

You stop at a large cluster of rocks near the surface of the water, plopping down on the slightly damp grass. Mattheo joins you, long legs stretched out in front of him as you fish around your pocket. His arm presses against yours and you’re immediately warmed by the heat coming off his body, trying to ignore the intoxicating aroma of his cologne filling your senses.

You hit Mattheo's thigh with your hand, nudging him to get the lighter as you place the blunt between your lips. He obliges, cupping his hand around the flame as you lean down to light the tip, taking a few drags. You pass it over to Mattheo, tilting your head back as you exhale with a sigh. Mattheo mimics your actions, letting out a low groan as he passes the blunt back to you.

“Shit, this is fucking good.” He murmurs, eyes flickering over to you as you take another drag.

You speak, blunt dangling between those perfect lips of yours that Mattheo can’t seem to tear his eyes off of.

“Should be,” You muse, handing it over to Matteho as he takes another long drag. “I sucked dick for it.” You comment offhandedly and Mattheo splutters, coughing as he smacks his fist against his chest, looking over at you in disbelief. You look at him with a lazy grin, a hint of amusement in your eyes.

“Relax, of course I didn’t. But with the price it came at I may as well have.” You murmur, shaking your head.

“So ladylike” He teases and you roll your eyes for what must be the umpteenth time, slapping his thigh as you snatch the blunt back.

You remain silent for a while, and it's oddly comforting. Just you and Mattheo, passing the blunt back and forth between one another as you overlook the black lake. The setting sun is reflected in the ripple of the water, golden rays dancing along the small waves that give the illusion of the lake being made of pure gold.

Mattheo leans back on his elbows, exhaling a cloud of smoke into the crisp air. You're reclined beside him, the gentle lapping of the water providing a soothing backdrop to your conversation.

"So, Riddle, what's been bothering you lately?" you ask casually, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between you.

Mattheo hesitates for a moment, his gaze fixed on the horizon as he considers his response. He's never been one to open up easily, but there's something about the softness in your voice that makes him want to confide in you.

"Just...everything, I guess," he admits finally, his tone uncharacteristically vulnerable. "I feel like I'm constantly on edge, and I'm not sure why.”

Your gaze remains on the lake, a pensive expression on your face as you hum.

“I get it. I suppose for all their goodwill it's a bit hard for the boys to understand that.” You murmur and Mattheo chuckles, looking down at the long strands of grass he was fiddling with.

“Tell me about it”

You remain silent for a second longer, before turning to face Mattheo. He looks up at you and feels as though he's pinned down under your gaze. It’s as though you were dissecting his very being, staring at him with a calculating look before you speak once again, your voice low and soft.

“You don’t always have to be a hardhead. You don’t need to dismiss how you’re feeling. We aren’t meant to have this figured out yet. We’re still young, with so much to learn. What’s the point of life if we know it all now?”

Mattheo listens to your words, feeling as though you've peered straight into his soul and laid bare all his insecurities. There's a wisdom in your words that resonates deeply with him. It's as though you possess a wisdom beyond your years, a rare insight that he finds both intimidating and captivating.

"Thank you," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper.

That god-forsaken smile appears on your face again, and you look over at Mattheo.

“Don’t. Someone has to tell you this, right? I love Nott to bits but I doubt he has anything but quidditch on his mind.” You joke, and Mattheo laughs.

You seamlessly lighten the mood, and Mattheo is eternally grateful for that. Really, he’s grateful for you. He can't think of the last time he's laughed so much. Or felt so free. Perhaps it was the weed, that had lowered his inhibitions and relieved him of his stresses.

But no, it was a drug far worse than that. He had just gotten a taste of it and he knew he would be hooked on it. It came in the form of you, and gods was it dangerous.

There's a heavy silence between the two of you, broken by the sound of rustling as Mattheo sits up abruptly, a grin spreading across his face.

"Hey, wanna go closer to the edge of the lake? I think I saw something cool over there," he suggests, his tone playful as he nudges you with his elbow.

"What, are you trying to pull some sort of prank on me, Riddle?" You ask, your tone sceptical as you raise an eyebrow.

Mattheo feigns innocence, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "Who, me? Never," he replies with a smirk, his eyes dancing with mischief.

Despite your reservations, you can't help but be intrigued by Mattheo's suggestion, and with a shrug, you agree to accompany him to the water's edge.

You walk a few steps to the surface of the black lake, peering down at your own reflection for a second. You turn to Mattheo, caught off guard when he gives you a playful shove.

You yelp, reaching out instinctively to grab onto Mattheo as you lose your balance. Instead of regaining your footing, you find yourself slipping on the dampened grass near the edge of the lake and falling backwards into the water with Mattheo.

The icy cold water seems to seep into your body, eradicating any hint of warmth. You resurface with a gasp, brushing your wet hair away from your face as you tread water, your robe floating around you in the water.

Mattheo resurfaces moments after you, his curly brown hair now plastered against his forehead, droplets of water glistening in the fading light. He blinks the water from his eyes and looks at you with a playful grin.

“Why did you do that!” He gasps, though his tone is lighthearted and playful.

You roll your eyes, splashing him in retaliation. “You practically threw me in there! I just needed to find my footing!” You retort, indignified.

Mattheo chuckles, the sound echoing across the stillness of the lake. “Fair point.” He concedes.

Not a second later, however, he splashes you with water, somehow drenching you even further.

“Mattheo!” You gasp, sending a wave of water back at him. The two of you playfully fight in the water, and you laugh, head tilted back. It's a scene straight out of a childhood fantasy, the cares and worries of the world melting away beneath the warm glow of the setting sun.

Mattheo pauses, and his heart pounds against his sternum as he hears your laugh. It’s loud and it's unabashed, and it's the most perfect thing ever. You smile, and he feels as though he can't breathe, you had to have stolen his breath.

The golden rays of the sun illuminate your skin, catching in the droplets of water that cling to the wet tendrils of your hair. You looked like an image out of a Renaissance painting, and Mattheo is sure the sun must hide itself in shame, for on its brightest day it couldn’t compete with your radiance.

He takes in the way the fading sunlight casts a warm glow on your features, highlighting the curve of your cheekbones and the sparkle in your eyes. He’s sure the image must be etched into his mind, permanently engraved. He knows when he closes his eyes, all he will see is the image of you, and he doesn’t mind it one bit.

In fact, he welcomes it.

In your presence, he feels alive in a way he never has before. He will wake up tomorrow and face all the trials and tribulations the universe has to throw at him. For now, however, the sun is shining. The water is cold, but you make him feel warmer. The gentle sound of water sloshing about fills the silence, the horizon is beautiful.

Everything was alright.

@mildlyuninformative @chgrch @gillyweeds @anti-hero03 @schaebickel @lillywildly @multifandom-worlds

[hirokari]

FUCK NEVERMIND

STRANGER THINGS BROUGHT ITSELF TO MY VILLA FUCK

[meechlamajor]

IF YOU WERE ON UCONN’S WOMENS BASKETBALL TEAM: HEADCANONS

*For this headcanon, we’ll call you Danica*

You’re in your sophomore year, and having a great one so far.

And even though you’re on the younger side, the team often jokes that you’re the mom. Whenever you guys hang out you have everything they could ever need on hand.

Imagine the team is walking around the mall doing some shopping after practice. You straggle behind the group, occupied with your surroundings. Some may call it weird, but you liked to people watch sometimes and they team knew it. That’s just how you were.

You overheard a little of the conversation they were making, it going one in and out the other until you heard Ice complaining about some.

She kissed her teeth, “this tag keep scratching the back of my neck.”

“Here let me pull it off,” KK beamed.

“No”, Ice rolled her eyes, but you chirped up. You carry a tote bag that you’d gotten from a thrift store and you had all sorts of things in there.

“I have some scissors in my bag,” you chimed, catching up with the group. You dug through your bag, and motioning for Ice to lean over so that you could the tag.

“Dani to the rescue,” Nika smiled, nudging your shoulder.

Your walk-out song on First Night would be something to get the crowd hyped up.

Lol if it were me, these would be my top songs:

Shining - DK Khaled (feat. Beyoncé and Jay Z)

Views - Drake (started at 30 seconds)

The beat drop is just too good.

5500 Degrees - EST Gee

HiTek Tek - Future

Handsome and Wealthy - Migos

You and KK are literally besties!

You’ll always make a TikTok with her or get on live. You’re pretty introverted and her goofy personality really brings you out of your shell.

“Dani,” she waved you over. “Come do this TikTok with me.”

You threw your phone down on the couch and got up, pulling your shorts down in the process. “What is it?”

She angled her phone in your direction so that you could see: (https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTLMe72Hw/)

It took you maybe 7 minutes to learn, but something as simple as a TikTok was one of your favorite pastimes with KK.

What kind of player are you?

You’re an aggressive player and tough. You’ve never been afraid to show dominance on the court and you love it especially because people tend to underestimate you. You move with grace, elegance, and tenacity, but that’s easy when you’ve been playing for as long as you have. Thanks to your high IQ, you adapt well. Your speed and reflexes are some of your best attributes.

You’re good on the defensive side, but your offense could use some work for sure (despite that you have great court awareness). You’re brilliant at staying low, your footwork is tight, but you don’t get too stiff, and you have active hands.

You’re not an arguer, but you’re not a pushover either. If a call doesn’t feel right to you, then you make it known.

Side note: when you celebrate, you mimic a plane, your arms being the wings.

Your room at the athletic dorms

You take the neutral route, so I think you’d have cream, beige, black, or gray sheets and blankets on your bed. All of your decor would probably follow a similar theme and I can picture a few low maintenance plants in there so you don’t have to worry while on the road. You take pride in your plant babies, trust me. I can see pops of color in there as well. You’ll have a few posters, too. Your bed will have plenty of stuffed animals!

(I love those Murakami flower pillows lol)

The inspiration behind your jersey number

It would definitely be something sentimental, it’s supposed to represent you on the court! Or, maybe it’s just your favorite number.

What your interviews are like

Fans have noticed that you’re really attentive and a good listener. If someone if having trouble with articulating a question of some sort, you try to catch on make sure you’re on the same wavelength. You can almost talk forever if someone really gets you started and you make little jokes to take the edge off. Fans have noticed that sometimes you make little slick comments after a tough loss, especially ones about the refs.

Because you’re being spoken to directly, people get a real glimpse into your personality and your spirit as a person, not just a ball player. Fans also love to watch you interact with Ashlynn (literally my boo i love her sm). You’re interviewed a lot together because you’re magic on the court.

AUTHOR’S NOTE!

i hope u guys liked this! i admire the teams dynamic so much so this one was fun to write. excuse any inaccuracies or errors for this one, i understand basketball at the basic level lol (both of my brothers played d1 though so it’s a shame 💀).

[marimogf-archived]

hope i’m not too late to send in an inbox 🥹 but for the song thing ur doing i would love to req one heh

song: tek it — cafuné

genre: fluff

character: satoru!! :3 🩵

logaaaan i'm so sorry for being so late, i hope this gives you some comfort :( 🩷

listen

contains: reader wears makeup, pining, satoru doesn't know feelings, he's so loser coded i love him, tiny splash of angst; wc: ~1k

as always, reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!! 💗

PLEASE READ MY DNI BEFORE INTERACTING!

“look! there's gonna be fireworks by the river! can we go, ‘toru? please?” you waved the flyer in front of his face while putting on your best puppy eyes, a little pout accompanying it.

“yeah, yeah, okay fine,” the white-haired man grumbled, snatching the flyer out of your hand and reading through the details. it was the day before you were leaving to study in a different city, leaving him, shoko and suguru in tokyo.

as his cerulean eyes studied the paper, you were already scurrying about, packing more belongings into various boxes lying around in your apartment. satoru watched you from his peripheral vision, noticing how empty your home suddenly looked. it became all too real to him that next week, you would be somewhere entirely unknown.

and he'd be alone with his feelings.

he didn't know when those feelings start to blossom in his chest. when the line between being friends and lovers blurred. was it when you drunkenly confessed to suguru that you’d liked satoru but it'd never work out because his family wouldn't approve? was it when, in that same night, satoru offered to let you stay at his and you mumbled a “thanks, love you” into his fluffy sheets?

maybe it was when you snuck onto the roof of his parents’ house to look at the moon. your favorite pastime. you would always tell him that the moon was just like him to you. always there, always watching over you. but he was also always above you, a constant reminder of how unattainable and untouchable he'd be.

he didn’t know when it became more than just friendship.

never having had those feelings before, he also didn't know how to navigate them. his first course of action was to distance himself from you, in hopes that those feelings would subside. but in the contrary, he missed you so much that he almost spilled like a full glass of water when you asked him if everything was alright in that soft voice of yours.

of course you had noticed, you could read him like a book. it's almost like you had the six eyes instead of him.

the night of the fireworks, you met him at your usual hang-out spot underneath the weeping willow by the river. there were already a few stray fireworks going off, illuminating the sky in one minute intervals.

satoru couldn't take his eyes off of you, hair and makeup done in a way that was only reserved for special occasions. with the summer heat making your skin glow.

you engaged in meaningless small talk, the air thick with the knowledge of your departure the next day. when the announcement came that the fireworks would officially start, you took satoru’s clammy hand in yours to drag him to the side of the river.

as the fireworks went off with loud whistles and bangs, satoru’s eyes wandered over to you. he took in your amazed expression. eyes sparkling in the different colors of the fireworks, skin shiny from the light sheen of sweat you worked up and lips stretched into a big smile.

satoru’s heart jumped into his throat when you turned to face him, flushed cheeks burning.

“thank you for accompanying me here for my last day, ‘toru. it really means a lot.” your gentle voice barely reached his ears over the tumult around you.

he could barely swallow the lump on his throat, gulping hard before awkwardly chuckling. “yeah, don't worry about it.”

leaning over to him, you pressed a chaste kiss on his scalding cheek, watching as his flush traveled to the tips of his ears and down his neck.

“i’ll miss you more than anyone else.”

his heart leaped out of his chest, the words he so desperately wanted to say on the tip of his tongue, his brain screaming at him to just say it!!!

but he swallowed, hard, burying his feelings deep down.

“you're acting like we won't see each other ever again,” he laughed, throwing his arm around your shoulders. you joined in with giggles, leaning into him and feeling his accelerated pulse against your ear.

“we won't for a while.”

the next day, you tearfully said your goodbyes and tried to memorize everyone's scent by hugging them just a few seconds longer. last in line, of course, was satoru.

the world stopped turning for a moment as you locked eyes, yours filling with fresh tears and his burning as well. shoko and suguru gave each other a knowing look, excusing themselves to the convenience store next to your apartment building.

“thank you for coming,” you mumbled, stepping towards his slender figure, tear streaks adorning your hot cheeks.

“what kind of best friend would i be if i didn't see you off?” he replied quietly, his heart jumping to his throat and closing it off.

you wrapped your arms around his slim waist, burying your wet face in his chest. his warm hands found your back, rubbing soothing circles. his lips pressed against the crown of your head with a low hum. little did you know he was fighting back tears of his own, not wanting to seem weak in front of you and his other friends.

he watched intently as the moving company workers loaded the remaining boxes into their truck and closed it off, honking the car to signal their nearing departure.

you sniffled into his shirt, inhaling his scent for one last time before separating from him. ”that's my cue.”

he, along with your other friends that had returned, watched as you got into your car with one last wave. as the engine started running, so did the hot tears down satoru's cheeks. he earned himself ruffle of his hair from suguru and a sympathetic smile from shoko.

that night, after confirming that you got to your new apartment safely, he climbed up to his roof. just like when you were here, he missed your warmth next to him.

as he looked up to the moon shining brightly in the starry midnight sky, his phone vibrated with a message from you.

‘we're still looking at the same moon <3’

a/n: kgksjdshs ngl i struggled a bit with this but it's finally out!!! please remember that this is one of the last things i will put out before completely moving blogs!

tagging @satoruhour (thank you for helping me 😭), @tojiella @kizoken @gojoest @ramonathinks

© marimogf 2023 — all rights reserved. please do not plagiarize, translate or steal any of my works.

[lovelyney]

─────────𝐈𝐍 𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐌─────────

DESC: Too blinded by his worry, Tighnari fails to see the damage he’s done until directly confronted by it.

PAIRINGS: Tighnari x (GN!) Reader

SCENT: angst -> fluff

WARNINGS: hanahaki disease, throwing up, blood, tighnari’s a dick at first.

BAD ENDING.

FLORIST’S NOTE: a couple of things! 1: the first day remains mostly the same as the bad ending, the ending of it is different! i wanted to keep it in just in case someone’s not good with angst and just wanted to read the good ending. and 2: there’s a bigger time skip between the first day and the time they leave the forest for plot purposes.

SONG: Tek It ― Cafunè

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯2022 !! #©LOVELYNEY

YOU OBSERVED WITH DEFEATED EYES as Tighnari, yet again, swaddled your hands in gauze. You tried to take out a Withering Zone by yourself, wanting to help clear his schedule. However, despite having a vision of your own, you weren’t very familiar with the process and ended up getting hurt, much to the forest ranger’s dismay.

Your throat ran dry as you struggled to find the right words to say without upsetting him more. It was clear he was about to snap at any moment, so you chose to stay silent, despite your anxiety eating away at the stillness.

“(NAME) for the last time, stop biting off more than you can chew,” the fox-eared boy berated, his gaze as bitter as the medicine he brews. “What was the point in bothering with something you clearly had no idea how to deal with? Were you begging for a death wish?” 

You swallowed thickly, your stomach churning as he awaited your response. “My only intention was to take some of the burdens off your shoulders. . .” You answered feebly.

With an exasperated sigh, he rubbed his temples in frustration. “So you wanted to help me and ended up doing the exact opposite? Yeah, that sounds about right.

“(NAME) this is what? The fifth time you’ve gotten yourself hurt trying to ‘help?’ Don’t you realize you’re only making things harder for the both of us?” Tighnari crossed his arms against his chest, growing more impatient with you by the minute. “Archons, we’re going to run out of medical supplies if you keep getting into situations like these. Can’t you learn to take a hint?”   

The harsh tone of his voice engulfed you in shame, his words ripping your heart into shreds. “I-I just—” your attempt to defend yourself was met with the burning stare of his multicolored eyes. 

He chastised, “save it, (NAME). You give me the same exact excuse every. single. time. Taking care of you like this again is already a migraine as it is.” With that, he packed the medical supplies into his backpack, not sparing you another glance.

Tighnari criticizing and reminding you how all you do is pull everyone down had become routine by this point. He never told you directly told you burdened everyone, yet he clearly didn’t care about hurting your feelings, so you never understood why he didn’t just give it to you straight.

He never acted so rashly to the other trainees, so it led you to believe that it was personal. That said, you don’t know what you did to make him hate you so much. And to add salt to the wound, you admired Tighnari a lot. Hidden beneath his sarcastic nature, he was diligent and dedicated to his work. You could tell he cared for everyone within the confines of the forest, although you highly doubted that to be your case. 

As you carefully observed him, you not-so-surprisingly developed feelings for him. You find it hard to believe now, but he treated you gently when you first met him—by the river not too far from the ville. That memory felt so foreign after all he did was suffocate you with his accusations. Since then, you shoveled your feelings into the very back of your mind. 

“Are you even listening, (NAME)?” badgered Tighnari, snapping you out of your depressive reverie.

Nodding slowly, you chewed the inside of your cheek, feeling your emotions consume you from the inside out. “Y—Yes, of course, Master. . .”

“Really? Because ever since I got here, you’ve done nothing but stare at the ground helplessly.” He shook his head and sighed in defeat, “whatever. It’s not like you ever heed my advice anyways.

“Collei and I are going to be gone for a few days on an expedition. You are not to leave Gandhara Ville until i return. Do I make myself clear?” He said, his large ears flicking in aggravation.

That immediately grabbed your attention as your eyes shot open. You deflected, “I—I’m sorry?! Tighnari, I get that you’re mad at me and all, but I am not a child! I don’t need supervision!” Your face burned hot with humiliation as tears formed in your eyes. 

Tighnari’s eyes softened briefly at your defeated expression before returning to their normal venomous state. “Then quit giving me a reason to treat you like one, (NAME). Now, I’ll be taking my leave.” Before you could answer, he left your room, leaving you alone in your misery. 

After a few minutes of silence, Collei wandered in, her gaze saddening as she regarded your trembling figure. “Oh, (NAME). . .” she lamented and sat next to you, gingerly wrapping her arms around you. “I’m—I’m sorry. . . I don’t know why he’s been treating you so horribly lately; he’s usually never like this. . .” Muttered the girl as she rubbed circles on your back. “I’ll talk to him, o—okay? Please don’t cry. . .” 

She perked up, an idea crossing her mind. “S—say, I have an idea! Why don’t I convince him t-to let you take my place?” She recommended, holding carefully onto your hands—a hopeful shimmer in her rose-colored eyes.

Withdrawing from your friend’s hold, you rubbed away your tears with a seemingly confused expression. “Convince him to let me take your place? Do—do you mean on the expedition in a few days?” You queried. 

Collei nodded enthusiastically; her blue facade crumbled, now replaced with one of a child’s excitement. “Yeah! I’ll say that something important came up, and I can’t go!” Exclaimed the girl. 

You were about to protest, but it was the equivalent of kicking a kitten, given how optimistic she looked. “How do you know he’ll even let me go? He clearly made it evident that all i do is cause trouble. . .” You muttered, your mind replaying his exact words.

Your friend laid her hand on your shoulder, her eyes full of determination. “You leave that part to me, ok? Don’t worry about the small details.”

Tighnari peeked his head over the opening, swallowing thickly when he noticed your tear-stained cheeks. “Collei, come with me, would you? I need to have a word with you.” He dictated.

The girl stood up, “y—yes, Master!” She stood up and turned to you, carefully bringing your head to her chest once more. “Get some rest, ok? I’ll have everything figured out.” She assured before bidding you goodbye and following Tighnari out. 

After the two left your line of sight, your throat and chest tightened. Scrambling into the bathroom, you stumbled over, suddenly coughing violently. You wiped the sweat from your temple, sighing in relief when it ceased. “What brought that up?” You questioned and fluttered open your eyes. While staring downward at what appeared to be lotus petals, you suddenly felt overwhelming dizzy. Had it gotten that bad?

Your hands clutched your chest as acid burned your esophagus. You weakly shoved yourself up and flushed the toilet. You knew that hanahaki was life-threatening if not treated immediately. However, confessing seemed impossible given the circumstances of your relationship and who you’re in love with. Your other option was to have it surgically removed, but that also meant removing your capability to feel emotions. Nevertheless, you wanted to be a forest ranger like Tighnari and help people, so you’d much rather die of the flower that bloomed in your chest than be an empty husk and not feel anything. 

Laying on your bed, you watched Tighnari and Collei converse—probably about your probation if you were to be completely honest. You let out a meek laugh and closed your eyes, allowing your body and mind some well-deserved rest.

Meanwhile, Collei anxiously turned to her teacher as they surveyed Gandhara Ville. “U—Um, Master Tighnari. . . You know that trip you mentioned in a few days?” She buzzed. 

Tighnari’s ears twitched slightly at the question. “Yes? What about it?” He asked, drawing out the s in suspicion. 

Rubbing the back of her neck, she nibbled on her lip and thought about how to say it. “Well, something important came up, and I don’t think I can go. . . I-I’m sorry for the trouble! I usually brush something like this off and come back to it, but unfortunately, it’s something that can’t be pushed to the side.” She disclosed.

Tighnari arched an eyebrow, staring at the girl with curious eyes—ears flickering alongside his curiosity. “Is that what’s making you so nervous? Ever since we left (NAME)’s house, you’ve been awfully silent. I thought they maybe said something—”

“N—no! Not at all!” she butted in, causing the boy’s eyes to blink in shock. Her face flushed in humiliation at her own outburst. “S—sorry! I didn’t mean to raise my voice ike that. . .” Uttered Collei, her head lowered in embarrassment. “I don’t think (NAME) has it in them to be rude. . . Speaking of which, M—Master, I think you’re being too hard on them.”

His ears lowered, a sudden pang of guilt hitting him harder than expected. Collei typically never commented on how he acted toward others. So, to hear her comment on how he treated you, alongside his additional guilt that he also thought he was being too cutthroat with you. . .

He huffed, “. . .is that what this is about? (NAME)? Well, maybe they should learn to stop burying themself in other peoples’ work. . . They’re only making things worse.”  

The trainee winced at his sharp tongue—hearing a sliver of it herself had her wandering just how bad it had gotten to dissolve you into tears. Whatever it might’ve been, it only encouraged her more to fix the root of the problem, that being, of course, Tighnari.

“M—Master, I typically don’t intervene when it comes to your work. But (NAME)’s a really close and great friend of mine. I don’t know if you’ve personally witnessed it, but they jump at the idea of helping anyone out.

“All they want to do is help. Whether or not it works doesn’t matter to them. Even within the confines of Gandhara Ville, they’re known for helping everyone. T—They. . . I found them crying after you walked out. They looked so. . . exhausted like they were on the verge of completely breaking. I’m scared that if you continue treating them like this, they’re just gonna. . . give up completely.” 

Tighnari felt his throat tighten. “She can’t be suggesting. . .”The fox ranger quickly shook his head free of the thought, feeling his stomach flip upside down at the image. Hearing that his remarks caused you so much mental torment was enough to impale a stake through his heart, so much so that he physically felt it in his chest. 

He harshly bit down on his lip, his sharp fangs causing it to draw blood. “What’re you suggesting I do?” he questioned—desperately (yet, not so evidently) seeking advice. Given his true feelings for you, he did not want you to think he hated you. However having said that, he figured it was too late for that part.

In a feeling of relief, Collei let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. “Well, have them take my place when you guys leave, for starters? See for yourself just how willing they are to put themselves on the line for others. A—and if you’re up for it, talk to them.” She proffered.

Tighnari nodded hesitantly and repeated everything inside his mind to ensure he hadn’t missed anything. After all, not repeating his past mistakes would be vital for this to work. “Alright, I’ll see what I can do. . .”

A couple of days in, you, Tighnari, and a couple of other forest rangers were deep inside Avidya Forest, training to rid the Withering Zone nearby. Well, besides you, that is. Even though Tighnari OFFERED, that’s right, he offered you to come and help. Normally, you’d jump at the idea of helping others, but your hanahaki drained all of your energy and strength. Every time it acted up, you’d lose a lot of blood, making you light-headed. So, you opted to let them do it so as to not drag them down.

Somehow and in some way, you managed to hide the disease from everyone so far. It definitely wasn’t the easiest thing to hide, given you’re literally coughing up flower petals, but you’d hide somewhere if you sensed it coming on.

“[in between breaths] (NAME)! (NAME)! Oh, thank the Archons, you’re still here! We—we need your help!” Ishan spluttered, breaking into coughs from panting so hard. 

You jolted at the eagerness in his voice. “Woah—woah, what happened?” You worried and rushed over to him, one of your hands already on your weapon.

“There’s a-a—” the male choked on his breath as concern washed over your features.

You gently put your hand on his shoulder, trying to help steady his breathing. “Hey, hey. . . Breathe for me, ok bud? In and out. Start from the beginning.” You spoke softly, despite the deep fear pulsating in your chest. 

Ishan quickly collected himself before standing upright, panic clouded in his dark eyes. “W—We were collecting mushrooms as per Tighnari’s request, but then we came across a hilachurl camp. . . W—we thought it was empty, but then a ruin guard c-came out of the blue and—”

You indistinctively pulled out your bow at those words; you didn’t need to hear anything else. “Alright, let’s go. There’s no time to waste,” you instructed, your voice as curt as tighnari’s. he nodded, quickly leading the way to the ambush. 

Upon arrival, your eyes flew open as the ruin guard aimed right at one of the rangers. Using your anemo vision, you boosted yourself in the air and shot in before it could land a hit. 

“(N—NAME)!” the other rangers yelled as you landed on the ground with a thud. They quickly hurried behind you, not the most equipped to take on a ruin guard. 

You grit your teeth and lock your stare onto the enemy—something that Tighnari taught you. “Everyone get out of here! It’s not safe!” You urged, fingers tightening around your bow. 

“We—we can’t just leave you here!” Nasrin reasoned.

Sternly glaring at them, you shot another arrow to hold the ruin guard at bay—something that’s uncommon for you, someone who’s naturally so kind and gentle.

“I’ll be fine! now, go! hurry and find Tighnari!” you asserted, your vision glowing with your determination. 

They all looked at each other before nodding and scurrying off to find the fox ranger. Fortunately, he was already at their base camp, looking for everyone.

“Ah, there you guys are! I started to think that you all abandoned the mission.” He sighed, ears flattened against his hair. “Where have you all been any—”

“T—Tighnari! It’s-it’s (NAME)! They’re. . . they’re—” Nasrin wheezed, her panic overcoming her ability to speak correctly.

Tighnari’s heart sunk to his stomach at the mention of your name. “Woah, woah. Calm down, Nasrin. What about (NAME)? Where are they?” He questioned.

“They’re fighting a ruin guard alone! I—Ishan ran to find them after it attacked us, and when they got there, t-they told us to leave and f-find you. . .” The girl hiccuped. 

“Tighnari, you have to help them! In no way is (NAME) weak, but it’s dangerous fighting one of those alone!” Kamran, who was next to Nasrin, contended.

Without another word, Tighnari pulled out his bow, wincing when he recollected Collei’s words. “Goddamnit.” He grumbled under his breath as his fingers pushed his bangs back. “Alright, point me in the direction of where they are. Everyone stay here until I get back,” he ordered before hurrying off. “God, (NAME). Please be ok.”

Tighnari’s boots slid across the grass as he halted to a stop. His eyes widened and landed on you, who was hanging on by a thread. As soon as he reached you, he grabbed and shoved you behind him. Pulling out his bow, he aimed the arrow right at the ruin guard’s core—shooting and finishing it off.

He sighed in relief, the adrenaline starting to wear off now that you were out of harm’s way. “Thank the seven. . .” he uttered and wiped the sweat off his forehead.

[cough, cough.]

Tighnari’s ears twitched at the abrupt sound. “(NAME)? Are you alrigh—” His sentence drifted off as he noticed the blood-covered petals you held and the deep laceration on your leg. Swaying onwards, you fell forward, Tighnari catching you before you hit the ground. 

“Hey, hey! Hang in there, flower! I’m gonna carry you back to camp!” He reassured and carefully lifted you in his arms, careful not to irritate your injury furthermore. Tighnari hurried back, forcing himself to look away whenever you hacked more flowers. “Everyone! You need to head back to Gandhara Ville and get Collei and Shirin! HURRY!” He demanded urgently. 

Everyone immediately got up and ran—recognizing that Tighnari, who usually never panics, was panicking.

Tighnari sat down, cradling you in his lap. “You still with me, flower?” He whispered as he pulled out the medical supplies they brought—certainly not enough to properly treat your wound, but it was going to have to do. 

You wiped the corners of your lips and nodded weakly. The gentleness that he showed might have made you jump with joy if you weren’t on the verge of death. 

He sighed in relief, “good, good. . . Try to keep your eyes on me, mk? This is gonna hurt for a moment, but I need to get this treated before it has any chance of infection.” He gingerly wrapped your leg in gauze, his heart cracking when he noticed your pained expression.

“Alright, it’s done. There’s that dealt with,” Tighnari stressed as he tousled his hair. His gaze lingered on the bloodied petals that lay on your chest. He picked one up and gently rubbed his thumb over it, careful not to break it. “(NAME)—”

“Please don’t. . .”

His eyes widened at your weakened voice. His ears lowered shamefully, knowing you fully believed he was about to reprimand you even when you’re laboriously wounded. Clearing his throat, he adjusted his words as not to upset you further; “ah, don’t—don’t hold your breath, (NAME). I’m not going to scold you. . .” He laid his hand on your head. “I just. . . wish you would’ve told me. How. . . how long have you had it?”

You tensed at the simple yet gentle touch; you weren’t used to him treating you so warmly, and it almost made you wary of him. “Um, a few days now, I think? W—why would I bother telling you when all you do is make it seem like I’m nothing but a nuisance. . . Every single interaction we’ve had, you tell me that all I ever do is screw up. Which now that I look at it, m-maybe you were right. I do tend to make things worse when—HMPFH!”

Tighnari hushed you, gently slotting his lips onto yours. it physically hurts him to hear you talk bad about yourself—to hear back what he said to you. He’s always viewed you as a delicate flower, needing the most careful and precise supervision to ensure you don’t wither. Putting that aside, he wasn’t entirely sure why he thought kissing you was the best course of action—not when he didn’t have the slightest idea of what you thought of him. Maybe, because if he did it, it would make his feelings for you evident. And just maybe he’d been wanting to do that for a while and hoped he was the one you harbored your feelings for and you’d be cured.

As he felt you kiss back, one of his hands traveled to the back of your neck to bring you closer. Your lips, soft as the petals you coughed up, molded perfectly with his. And with each passing second, he kissed you harder, hoping to make it abundantly clear he didn’t mean a single word he said to you back then. 

After about 30 seconds, Tighnari finally pulled away, allowing you time to catch your breath. He sucked in a breath and held your face in his hands. “I’m so sorry, (NAME). I don’t think any combination of words can express that enough. In all honestly, I hid my feelings behind accusations because I was so scared you’d get yourself hurt so bad to the point that I couldn’t save you. I meant to protect you by restricting you, but I only hurt you in the process.” Dragging out a sigh, he gingerly smoothed his thumb over your cheek, brushing away any tears that might’ve fallen from your eyes. “This’ll be hard to believe after all the pain I’ve caused you, but I. . . [sighs] I love you, (NAME). So much more than you probably think. and seeing how relieved you look, I assume you feel the same. . .

“Knowing I could’ve saved you from so much pain from that awful disease if I would’ve just. . . apologized and confessed. Archons, it’s gut-wrenching to think about. . . I’m so sorry, (NAME).”

You blinked your eyes in astonishment; you couldn’t tell if what he said was the truth. He wouldn’t be that cruel, right? Despite your doubts, your chest felt lighter, which you interpreted as a sign that your hanahaki was gone. Swallowing down your fear, you squeezed Tighnari’s hand. “Can—can you kiss me again. . .?” You asked bashfully, your cheeks flaring at the absurd request

“Pardon?”

“I—I mean! Of course, y-you don’t have—hmmf!”

All your anxieties are quickly washed away as Tighnari’s lips meet yours once more. Relaxing into his arms, you looped your arms around his neck and pulled him flush against your body—the smell and warmth of him distracting you from the throbbing pain in your leg.

He pulled away after a few seconds, noticing you kept shifting uncomfortably from the pain you were in. “Ah—I’m sorry, flower. There isn’t much I can do given our lack of supplies. . .” He sympathized and pressed his lips to your forehead. Grabbing his bag, he pulled out a singular kalpalata lotus. “I was going to weave you a flower crown out of these, but I didn’t have the time to grab the necessary amount. So, this will have to do for now.” He crooned and tucked the flower in your hair. 

You let a yawn as you reached up and carefully pet its petals between your forefingers. “You don’t strike me as the type to make flower crowns,” you commented.

Tighnari chuckled, his fingers delicately running through your hair. “Hm? Well, you don’t strike me as the type to nearly take down an ruin guard alone, my lovely. But I guess I do have a knack for underestimating you.” He looked at you, smiling softly when he noticed how exhausted you looked. “Get some rest, (NAME). i can see how tired you are.” He consoled.

“You promise you won’t leave?”

His eyes softened as he leaned down to press one more kiss to your lips—an unspoken promise, an ever sea of love. 

“I never intended on doing so in a thousand years, my lotus. . .”

“Master, (NAME)!” Collei shouted frantically, trudging through the thick shrubs of the Avidya Forest.

“We came as fast as we could!” Shirin huffed, hunching over to catch her breath. “We—we hope we aren’t too lates. . .”

Tighnari shook his head reassuringly and gestured to your sleeping figure. “No, you’re not. Thank you both for coming on such short notice,” he said. “(NAME)’s asleep. . . It seems dealing with their hanahaki and fighting the ruin guard took all their energy.”

Collei’s eyes broadened as she crouched next to you, watching as your chest fell steadily up and down. She sighed in relief, “t—they didn’t tell me they hanahaki! I wouldn’t have ever suggested this to them if I knew that.”

He tilted his head curiously, his ears swaying to the side with him. “Oh? So (NAME) coming here was a plan set up by the two of you?”

The girl’s face profusely reddened, realizing she had given herself away. Letting out a quiet huff, she started helping Shirin treat your injury. “Y—yes, Master. . . I’m sorry for doing it behind your back, but they looked so defeated whenever you yelled at them. . .” She confessed. “But, unfortunately, I don’t think I can help much with their hanahaki. . . I—I mean, who do you think they have feelings for?”

Tighnari assured, “ah, you don’t need to worry about that. . .”

Shirin giggled as she finished treating your leg. “Awwe, are you and (NAME) together now, Tighnari?”

Collei’s cheeks flushed an even darker shade of red when he nodded. “H—huh?! They liked you, Master Tighnari?” She stumbled. 

His ears flattened against his head, an amused look displayed on his features. “Mhm. And I like them back. Why’s that so shocking?” He wondered.

She crossed her arms and gave him a look that said really? She conceded, “Master. . . You—you treated them like a pawn.”

Tighnari flinched, not quite expecting the sharp words to come from gentle and sweet Collei. “I know, I know. It’s a miracle they reciprocated my feelings with how poorly I treated them,” he sighed. He shook his head and looked down at you resting peacefully. “That just encourages me to take better and more efficient care of them. I’m going to make sure they blossom and in no way wilt by anyone’s words or actions. . .”