Alan Mido - Tumblr Posts
how we feeling guys?
ALSO, IT'S LITERALLY SNOWING AND HE'S IN WATER. [Hot spring maybe so, BUT STILL!!]
In love with a 2-D Character?! Vagastrom Edition!
Blurb: In which you are a character in a popular game the Tokyo debunker boys are coincidentally in love with.
↪ Alan Mido:
Also in the doesn't play games category.
He just sees Leo playing the game, and then he sees Tohma play the game and is a bit curious so he downloads it.
There's not much to do, it's a usual tapping game, and he can get behind it!
Cue the character selection screen where he accidentally chooses a random character which just happened to be you.
He doesn't see you until the second chapter, hearing the rumours about you killing someone gets him a bit curious.
THEN YOU COME INTO PICTURE AND GAH DAMN, You're so strong and caring but don't know how to express your love.
You're so. *sigh* He doesn't know how to explain it. He just finds you absolutely adorable and wants to be there with you to protect you.
He tries to get pictures with cosplayers following Tohma's example but he's only gotten a few pictures.
TRADITIONAL ART?! Traditional art. Has Sho take good pictures of his art and posts them on Twitter, very wholesome, very demure.
"The one time you're in love and it's a fictional character." - Leo probably.
His luck is unexpectedly very good. Gets all your editions, sometimes even doubles.
*Cue a card of you in an onsen* The very second someone shows him the picture, that's all he can think of. Cannot wait for when his work is done so he can play the game and potentially pull for your card.
Does not understand gacha rates. Alan: *does a ten pull. Doesn't get a character.* The game is broken, he'll try again at a later time.
Isn't the collector type, you just love him too much so you come home immediately. [his SR warding card loves me more than his SR loves me...alan come home, the kids miss you.]
↪ Leo Kurosagi
Only played the game because his Twitch chat asked him to. He asks them to select a character for him and they choose you.
He does not like you at first glance and selects another character, who coincidentally happens to be your friend.
He plays the second chapter while streaming and when the scene of you whimpering telling the man to put the knife down comes up, he hates you more.
Cue the transition of you being an absolute demon as the chapter passes.
You're an asshole? Sexy. [I read this in Na Jaemin's voice. *head in hands*]
You plan on killing him? and you're smart? and you manipulate?? Okay maybe you're not that bad...you're annoying, sure, but he doesn't hate you.
He's deluding himself into thinking he doesn't like you but every time you appear on screen, he has to stop himself from giggling like a highschooler who has a crush on someone.
He has a crush on you, he just doesn't know it yet.
He's the embodiment of "I hate this character" - puts up posters of the character on his wall.
His fans send him your merch just to spite him because they think he hates you. He doesn't particularly care about his fans, but he's frothing at the mouth whenever someone gives him your merchandise.
He doesn't spend his hard-earned money on you, but he uses the accounts of those old men he scammed to get you.
May or may not have had Sho cosplay you only to tell him he ruins your charm.
↪ Sho Haizono
Very casual player, likes a select few characters, says he plays for the gameplay but plays for the story.
Likely got into it because Leo and Alan were playing it, then he saw Subaru playing it, went "okay, peer pressure."
Based on the selection, he got the idea you were a delinquent, sure, and you had a nice voice. But nothing much about you? he selects you anyway because why not.
THERE YOU ARE IN THE PROLOGUE and he's absolutely loving the attitude. Disrespecting the cat-boy chancellor? Heck yeah.
Plays through the second chapter where you come up, a bit annoyed by your lack of will to do anything but relatable.
He likes your bike though, very cool. 10/10 would go on long night rides with you.
After he learns you like cooking and that your friend is really just like a toxic-ex-significant other, he really starts appreciating you. You went from 'okay' to 'I love you' scale real quick.
Whatever dishes you mention, he's going to make them right then and there, he'll put the game on pause and go into the kitchen just to make it.
He may or may not have cosplayed you once [The Fox Robe does cosplays too, I TRUST. If free clothes then cosplay? yes.] or more than once.
Has a plushie of you and those little mini plushie keychains attached to his keys. Has jewellery based on you, my boy is not down bad, he's just so in love with your design and you.
Probably has more things that remind him of you than your actual merch.
Candles? Candles based on you? Yes.
Prev [Frostheim] Next [Jabberwock]
Covered in blood you say?
woah this character is so cool i wish they were covered in blood their whole body trembling with a look of absolute horror on their face as theyre struggling to breathe in panic
and the type to secretly wants to give and receive all five love languages but couldn't bring himself to ask directly or straight up do it to you LIKE even if the two of you aren't big on hugging or kissing he's so content with just having your pinky fingers intertwined with his or having you fingertips trace the skin along his tattoo. sometimes he would call you at night (after few minutes of figuring out how) without any reason and he gets embarrassed when you ask why he's calling. IMAGINE HIM GOING OUT OF HIS WAY TO ASK LEO OR SHO FOR HELP ON WHAT GIFT HE SHOULD BE GIVING YOU-- god forbid leo spoiling it before alan got to you first.
thinking about alan being a secret soft romantic… believes in things like opening your car door for you when you go on dates… only kissing you on the third date… sending you to your doorstep then waiting until your room light turns on and you lean out the window to wave at him to confirm that you safely got upstairs before he leaves… taking care to kiss you during the first snowfall of the year bc he believes in the myth that it means you’ll be together forever… doing cute things like gently taking your hand in a crowd so you won’t lose each other… i’m combusting
goodnight (goodnight)
⭢ alan x mc, 1.1k
p is for phone calls. ⭢ alphabet series | ao3 insp by @kurosagi-h8r's alan headcanon!
Alan waits until you disappear safely into the lit haven of your dorm room before turning away, smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
It is a new feeling, this bursting and blooming of ardency beneath the race of his heart. Just the thought of you, laughter tangled into his own, fills his fingertips with morning sun and soaks into the heavy of his bones; it slides clouds under the soles of his feet and springs under his step.
He doesn’t quite know why you set your mind on him all those months ago, has never quite understood why you would ever look at him the way you do even after seeing him doused in another’s blood, but he does know that ever since you stepped foot into the grime of Vagastrom his world has never been the same.
You look at him and still love him even on the days he can barely stand to look at himself. When you’re around it feels like his hands can be used for things other than hurt. When your fingers interlace with his he learns they can be gentle; when you turn your nose to the heat of his palm he learns they can be tender. When you slide them up your waist and let them coax gasps from the heat of your lips he learns that strength is not inherently brute and that maybe, sometimes, they deserve to hold good things too.
He is still learning, with every day you choose to love him; he will continue to learn, for as long as you’ll let him.
His thoughts carry him all the way to Vagastrom. It is a familiar route now, with all the times he’s walked you back to the cathedral - he’s even added the cathedral as a stop on his morning jog, just so it becomes muscle memory to travel to where you are.
(He doesn’t protest, though, when your hands still find his on the premise of tugging him in the right direction. He will gladly let you guide him anywhere if it means getting to hold your hand.)
The garage is already dark, meaning the first years have already turned in for bed, so he picks up a folder of undone paperwork and heads upstairs. He makes short work of his night routine, but instead of settling down and reviewing the general students’ reports he finds himself staring at the Wickchat icon on the tiny screen of his phone.
There is a little red bubble next to your name. An indication of an unread message, he remembers, and he taps it to find a sweet, “Thank you for today, Alan!” tucked into a white text box.
The strange, bursting feeling in his chest returns, and before he knows it his thumb has found the little phone icon tucked into the corner of his screen.
You answer on the third ring. “Alan?”
There is always something in the way you say his name that makes it feel like it has been swaddled in clouds. His name might be all storm and mountains and divine punishment, but on your tongue it dissolves like cotton candy, a type of sweet nothing he has never imagined himself to be.
“…Alan?”
He can hear the smile in your voice, can picture you lying in bed cradling your phone to the apple of your cheek where he left a goodnight kiss not even an hour ago. “…honour student.”
You laugh, bright and sparkling, all honey lemon soda in the warmth of his night. “Is there a reason you’re calling, or did you just miss me already?”
Alan flushes. Ah.
He did call without thinking, huh.
He runs his fingernail against the edge of his desk, and scrabbles to verbalise the first thing that pops into his mind. “Are you free tomorrow?”
He has no new missions to invite you on. Hell, he has so much paperwork for general missions to get through he should probably be working on that instead. And yet…
You hum. He can hear you biting back a smile as you say, “I’m always free, for you.”
The bubbling in his chest intensifies, and he strains to keep himself from smiling giddily at the silliness of your response. He opens his mouth a few times, trying to find the best words to say, but you understand his silence anyway, like you always do.
“My classes end at two tomorrow, but I can bring my homework and meet you in the garage after, if that’s okay?” you say.
“Yeah,” he says, intelligently. “Yeah.”
There is a rustle on the other end of the line, like you’re turning in bed. “See you tomorrow, then?”
“See you tomorrow,” he echoes. Some part of him wishes you’d stay on the line, fill the stifling silence of his dorm room with the sun of your voice and the sweet of your smile, but he knows he should let you rest. He shouldn’t be so greedy - your presence during the day time should be enough for him. And yet something keeps him from hanging up, from shifting his one lifeline to you away from his ear.
“Alan?”
There it is again, the way your tongue rolls his name around your mouth like a piece of caramel. He cannot stop the way it makes his heart swell; if he could, he’d listen to the way you say his name forever. “Honour student.”
“If you miss me, you could have just said, you know,” you continue, cheekily, and he laughs this time, a low chuckle two shades more embarrassed than he’d like.
“Goodnight, honour student,” he says, instead.
“Goodnight, Alan.”
A thought springs, unbidden, into his mind, a quiet picture of you in his sleep shirt, curled up in the off-white of his duvet and blinking sleepily at him as you say those words to him in person.
He wonders briefly if he can get you to stay over tomorrow, if he can get to curl his arms around you and kiss the crown of your head and feel the rise and fall of your chest as you drift off to sleep, then shakes himself. He shouldn’t. Not… not yet.
“I’m going to hang up now,” you say. The glimmer of laughter in your voice that dances its way straight into his heart. “Or we’ll never get off the phone.”
He bites back the upward tug of his lips. “Alright.”
There is a soft rustle before the line goes dead, and he lowers his phone, tilting his head back with a contented sigh.
Tomorrow. He’ll see you tomorrow.
PLEASE WRITE FANFICS/HCs ANYTHING FOR TOKYO DEBUNKER !! I'M BEGGING YOU WRITERS PLEASE SEE 😭😭😭
OH MY GOD LOOK AT ALL THE WARDING CARDS I HAVE 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰
Mhm yeah now look at my cards
Hi! I love your Tokyo Debunker content! I have a request, but feel free to ignore this if ur not comfortable! ♥️
Tokyo debunker boys the first time they notice faded SH scars on reader. If they vibe, I would love Subaru or Alan, but anyone is good as long as it's not Leo or Sinostra.
Thank you so much for liking my writing!! It means the world to me!(╥﹏╥) And no no, don't worry, this topic doesn't make me uncomfortable!
I wrote small drabbles for Alan, Subaru, Rui and Haru, hope it's okay!
Warning: sh mentioned! and more angst in Rui's part
Alan stares at the scars, not quite sure of what he should do. He's already seen too much during his young life, been through too much, yet the thought of you hurting so much left him speechless.
He nods slowly as you tell him you're okay and safe now, but his hand still goes to rest on the top of your head, brushing your hair with his fingers as he looks at you in the eye.
He isn't good with words, but he hopes you know that he will do his utmost to protect you and hold you in case you ever need to face your demons again. He silently but clearly promises he will be there to support you.
His gentle touch is more than enough to make you believe in his quiet vow.
Once Subaru saw the fading scars on your forearms, he had to control himself not to grab them and find in your memories what hurt you so much so he could find it and destroy it himself.
You observed the way his eyes lingered on them, and you rubbed your head sheepishly, telling him you could cover them if they made him uncomfortable.
Shaking his head frantically, he explained he just wished he knew you since forever, so he could be there for you during your dark moments; that he's proud of you for being so strong and overcoming that hurt. And that he would never feel uncomfortable with anything that's yours, he embraces all of you – you happiness and your sadness – just like you embraced his own darkness.
Rui was overjoyed at the fact that you would sleep in Obscuary. He allowed himself a small little peek at your sleeping form, since you didn't let him see you in your pajamas – as long as you didn't find out, he would also never admit his creepy ways.
He thanked the heavens after seeing your body was barely hidden by the covers and you wore small shorts with a loose T-shirt.
His breath hitched, however, as he saw the fading scars that littered your thighs.
Rui pursed his lips, swallowing the lump on his throat, and he hovered his fingers over your skin – a skin he was learning to love quite quickly.
He knew what it felt like to wish for control, even if it came in the form of self-inflicted pain. He just wished you never went through so much hurt – not you, not his girl.
Never he felt such a desperate need to get rid of his curse, just so he could kiss your scars and love them the way he already loves your whole body.
Haru noticed the scars on your arms as soon as you rolled your sleeves to get to work on feeding some of the critters that live on Jabberwock. He stayed silent until the sun began setting, and you two sat under a tree, eating and drinking after a long day of work.
You notice the way he fidgets, trying to bring up the topic (you always knew when someone noticed your scars), so you just tell him you can answer any question he has about it and that he can take a look if he wants to.
He holds your arms, thumb carressing the skin as he frowns. Awkwardly, he asks you to call him immediately if you ever feel like wounding yourself again. You assure him you're feeling okay now, but he furrows his brows in concern.
He places a quick peck over your skin, quickly stuttering as he explains that's what he does to the baby anomalies who hurt themselves under his care.
You smile. You know Haru will always do his best to keep you safe from all of your curses.
full masterlist
Vagastrom boys: guard & prisoners ❤️
One of the Vagastromers had eagerly come back with some fascinating winnings from Sinostra--some Frostheimer had bet their new car and lost. While the gambling was certainly to be gently chided over, the minor victory over Frostheim was of more value to the Vagastrom general students. There was, however, a small problem that the whole house couldn't figure out--the electronic key hadn't come with the car, and they couldn't turn it on in the first place.
Alan, after examining the vehicle, went to the only person he knew could help.
"Oooh, not a bad ride." Leo circled the car, dainty fingers running over the smooth, shiny exterior. "These things aren't even a year old. You really screwed that guy, I bet his daddy'd whip his ass if he were here."
He sat atop the car's hood, enjoying the eager eyes on him. "Yeah, I could crack one of these. Shouldn't be too hard."
He resisted the urge to wince as the bunch whooped and high fived with the secured victory. Always so loud at the littlest things. Alan gave him a nod and Sho sighed, going to fetch Leo's 'work' laptop for him.
A few hours(and a non-insignificant payment) later, and Leo handed the Vagastrom student's phone back to him. "There. Bluetooth car key. Make sure your phone's charged or no getting in the car without me."
The general student eagerly thanked him, promising to return the favor later despite already paying him, then turned to his friends as he opened the doors, telling them to get in for a ride. Another little chorus of cheers went through them and they made their way into the vehicle for a drive that hopefully wouldn't get the car confiscated by Darkwick.
"Good job." Alan grunted from where he'd been looming above Leo quietly, having finished maintenance on some of the vehicles in the garage shortly before. Leo predicted his next move, carefully catching his arm with both hands.
"Nope!!!" Leo yelped, tilting his head away to glare up at the Captain. Alan flinched a little, uncertain what was wrong. "Do not pat my head with those oily hands, Cap! We are not getting that shit in my hair today."
"Ah." Alan pulled his hand away to examine it. Although he's been wearing his gloves while working it was, in fact, blackened with motor oil and grime. Leo examined his own hands and clicked his tongue in irritation. He'd saved his hair, but not his skin. "Sorry."
"C'mere." Leo sighed, shutting his laptop with his elbow. He stood and shuffled and scooched it under his arm without using his hands, then grabbed Alan's large wrist and began to guide him to the stairs. Alan, having had gotten closer to Leo and Sho than he'd intended, was oddly becoming used to being led by the little influencer and followed him up the stairs.
When they reached Leo's door he paused and glanced at his hand again before grimacing. He reached over and wiped the oil on Alan's shirt(which hardly bothered Alan himself, as it was already somewhat oily) to the best of his ability before opening it and bringing Alan inside. He'd just wipe it down later.
Finally, Leo led him into his spacious bathroom and the broad vanity top, turning the hot water on high in the sink. Immediately he thrust Alan's hands under the flow of water.
"I know how to wash my own hands. . . ." Alan grumbled as Leo helped to spread the hot water over Alan's large hands with his small ones. "The water's too hot."
"Hot water gets oil off. Suck it up." Leo pulled Alan's hands from under the stream and grabbed the bar of soap he used for washing his hands before placing it into Alan's hands. He rubbed and lathered it into a frothy, sweet-selling lather all over his fingers. Leo grabbed the soap and rubbed it a over Alan's wrists and an inch or two further up before he could wash it off, then grabbed a small brush with hard bristles and furiously worked the dirt out from under Alan's nails. "Your nails are disgusting. I don't just mean from the dirt--why are they so chipped. And your cuticles--I'll be here all day if I keep this up."
Stopped himself from forcefully manicuring the nails of someone who wouldn't appreciate it, Leo shoved Alan's soapy hands back under the steaming hot water and let him rinse them clean. "Dry them with the blue striped towel. Don't touch anything else!"
While Alan dried his hands, Leo washed his own, grabbing a paper towel to dry them with and shut the water off. Alan resisted the urge to rub the back of his neck, sure he would somehow end up being made to wash his hands again if he did so. "Thanks. They're just gonna get dirty again, though."
Leo hummed in acknowledgement and watched Alan impatiently, arms crossed. Alan, confused, looked towards the exit behind Leo. Leo cleared his throat in exaggeration and glared up at him.
". . .What is it?"
"You can pat me now."
Alan blinked and took a moment to process this. "Ah. Got it."
Alan sat his large hand on top of Leo's head, and pat him a few times. Leo smiled, proud of himself, and lifted his head into it, even standing on his toes a little. He tilted his head so Alan's hand would land against his cheek, then grabbed his wrist to hold him still again, rubbing his face into Alan's freshly cleaned hands like a cat. Uncertain what to do, Alan held his hand still until Leo released him.
"Alright! I'm satisfied! Get out." Leo chirped with a smile, moving past him to fix his slightly disheveled hair.
"Oh. Alright." Alan dropped his arm back to his side and made his way out the bathroom and back to the main part of the garage. "Thanks for helping that guy."
"I made money off of it, he gets to ride his fancy car, some nobody in Frostheim lost, everyone was happy. It's whatever! Don't touch anything but the doorknob on your way out. I already have to clean the floor after your filthy boots were in here. . . ."
Come ooon! Stop teasing and give us a hot spring event! Pretty please?
Seeing leo in the cop uniform and Alan and Sho as prisoners makes me want to imagine him domming both of them and whipping when they don't comply (would the mc be a prisoner too and Leo gets a kind of harem thing going on or would they be a cop for the sake of even 2vs2 and bad cop-good cop thing going on where Leo degrades them to almost tears while the MC caresses them and praises them for being so good)
(just so everyone knows i got this ask like a month ago hha)
Re: future Vagastrom Prisoner/Guard SSR art?
God yes you have such a good imagination lol.
Leo loves being in control and has the attitude and the wordsmithing and the influence and to some degree a weapon that lets him back it up. Alan is strong and a good leader but he's worried sbout being harmful. And Sho is whipped for Leo a bit of a pushover it seems. They'll sub to him and he'd absolutely push and see just how far he could get with them. Teach them to be good boys for him--reinforce good behavior by punishing bad behavior with pain, never let them rouch him with their hands, make them beh for satisfaction while being reduced to desperate and pathetic muscleheads. Like animals in heat, he calls them. Lets them grind against his shoes or jerks them off with his feet, makes them fuck each other or beg to fuck or be fucked by him--
Once Leo's had his fill though the PC can step in and make sure they know what a good job they did. Aftercare is a separate matter but they get much gentler treatment with the PC(Leo watches, maybe sometimes helps a little) and they're still compliant and submissive but the PC is kinder. Maybe too kind sometimes. Maybe overstimulating even, where Leo might be more into denial. . .they just have very contrasting behavior. Where Leo degrades, the PC praises; Leo denies and the PC overstimulates; Leo hurts them and the PC kisses and rubs and practically worships them, teasing with gentle touches until they're begging for something more. Reward good behavior instead of punishing bad. Gods forbid all four be at it at once.
But like. . .who's to say the bad cop's not teaching the good cop how effective his methods are in the break room, y'know? Leo gets a harem regardless because Leo is great at getting his way. Leo scolding the PC for being so nice to their subs when Leo knows that's not [entirely] what they want. Leo showing the PC how good it feels to be used and abused and under his boot. Maybe even letting Alan and Sho watch--undermine their authority for them a bit. Maybe even let them have a turn if they're feeling too aggravated from Leo mistreating them. Use the honor student as stress relief, like the dumb animals you are. Well they're a dumb animal too, they're getting off to this after all.
Meanwhile Leo can't lose in this situation as the PC would just be praising and heaping affection on him and he never has any complaints about being given attention. Hell even if he ends up subbing to them somehow and they turn the tables and they're mean to him, he trusts them all enough that he'd really like it--
help me hold on to you.
⭢ alan x mc, 2.2k
It is a dance of wants and haves, of budgets and portion sizes, of learning to think for two. It feels like you could do this forever. How easy it is, to be with Alan. How easy he is to love. or: supermarket date! supermarket date! soft and fluffy domestic alan!!! i love him!!!!! ( º ᴖ º ) // also on ao3
You frown. How is it that whoever runs the campus store can bring in three different types of almond milk, but only one brand of oat milk?
You weigh both cartons in your hands. Maybe you should just get the almond milk. It isn’t even the good type of oat milk too–
“Y/N?”
You glance up, only to be met with sea green eyes and arms full of flour and sugar bags. “Kaito!”
Kaito beams back, golden hair washed a pale yellow under the harsh cold of the store lights. He looks slightly different dressed down, almost like he could be a college student elsewhere in a ratty old hoodie and sweatpants. “I’ve tried that brand of almond milk, it freakin’ sucks. Get the blue carton.”
You can’t help but laugh. With the strange stocking style of the campus store, you can only ever trust comments of the other students and hope not to step on any culinary landmines. You reach to put both cartons you were holding back when Kaito clears his throat.
“Why are you wearing a Vagastrom hoodie?”
Ah.
You flush, biting your lip. It was colder than you expected this morning when Alan left the bed for his morning run, uncurling himself from around you gently in an effort not to wake you up. But you awoke anyway, body leaning towards his residual warmth like it has every day you’ve woken up in his bed, eyes blurring open to Alan’s fond smile.
I’ll be back soon, he promised, voice low. Go back to sleep. The sleep-rough of his voice left butterflies at the bottom of your stomach, a small dance of adoration and contentment that lasted long after he shut the door.
But the cold was sharp, and as Alan’s warmth faded from the blankets you found yourself sitting up and leaning off the edge of his bed until your fingers snagged the yellow hoodie draped across the back of his chair. It smelled vaguely of engine grease, as does everything in Vagastrom, but as you pulled it over your head you were surrounded by sandalwood and summer, by sunlight and sea salt, by Alan.
The brush of comfort was enough to turn your eyelids heavy and your dreams sweet, until you were awakened again by Alan’s touch on the crown of your head.
“Y/N?” Kaito peers at you, and you jolt a little.
“Um,” you say, intelligently. “Ah.”
It’s not as if you were hiding the fact that you were dating Alan per se, but it… had never really come up in conversation? After all, it is a fairly recent development, and Alan isn’t the type to broadcast news about himself to others. The interactions you’ve had with most of the other ghouls involve mostly you running small errands for them anyway, and less so idle chit-chat. Other than the Vagastrom ghouls (Leo had scoffed the first time he walked in on Alan’s thumb brushing your cheekbone and walked back out, while Sho just smirked and hollered something in Leo’s direction about a bet), you don’t think any of the other students know anything about your relationship with the Vagastrom captain.
But this is Kaito, one of the first people to befriend you in Darkwick, and now that you’re faced with the opportunity and his guileless eyes, you feel kind of ashamed you’ve never told him about it…
“Did you find it?” A gentle weight rests on the top of your head. A warmth blooms at the base of your throat, sweet and golden, and you briefly forget about Kaito as you lean backwards to smile up at Alan.
“They don’t have the brand I usually get. Should we get almond instead?”
Alan nods at you to place the carton in his basket. “Sure.”
“Sho said he wanted us to pick up some bell peppers too–“
“Sorry, what the fuck?!” Kaito’s yelp is startling, and you reflexively jerk backwards into the solid harbour of Alan’s arm. “Since WHEN?!”
You flush. A sheepish apology balances on the tip of your tongue, but Alan beats you to it. The gruff in his voice is evident as he says, “Your business, Frostheim?”
Kaito’s eyes grow round. A million little emotions (mostly some frantic type of fear, but tinged with betrayal, you note somewhat despondently) flash across his face before your apology tumbles out. “Sorry, Kaito, I meant to tell you and Luca, but I’ve been so busy-“
“It’s okay,” Kaito squeaks, and before you can say anything else he disappears up the aisle, bags of flour dropping in his wake.
Alan frowns. He pulls you slightly closer, fingers resting lightly on the waist of his hoodie, and there is something so unexpectedly tender in the action it makes your heart feel three times too big. Always soft, always warm. Always gentle, with you.
You half-expect him to say something about Kaito, but he just sighs.
“Bell peppers are up front,” he says, instead, and you laugh.
You end up picking more bell peppers than Sho asked for, if only so you can add the extras to the dinners you cook for the week. Alan picks out spring onions and a new box of white miso; you trade it for a box of red (he has an unopened box of white miso hidden behind his giant tub of protein powder; you unearthed it while searching for his black pepper last week) and toss in an extra yellow onion.
You spend the most time in the meat section, of course – Alan’s meals consist mainly of grilled meat on rice whenever you’re not around. You watch as he frowns his way through cuts of meat, bending over to trade pork shoulder for jowl, and you resist the urge to smooth out the crease between his brows as he looks between both price tags.
It is a dance of wants and haves, of budgets and portion sizes, of learning to think for two. It feels like you could do this forever.
How easy it is, to be with him. How easy he is to love.
He doesn’t believe it, you know. Where you see caution and care in wrinkles of his palms he sees nothing but bloodstains and bruises, like there is nothing in him that deserves to be held. But oh, the way you’re trying to show him–
It is a whole downpour by the time Alan walks you back from Vagastrom. You are both soaked to the bone, your bangs sticking to your forehead and his yellow vest a dark ochre.
You invite him in to dry off, of course. He can’t possibly make his way back to Vagastrom like this.
(You also don’t think he can find his way back in the pouring rain, but you don’t say that part out loud.)
“I’ve got towels upstairs,” you say, instead, and lead him up the stairs to your room. You pray hard that all your laundry is in its basket and you haven’t left anything stupid out.
You haven’t, much to your relief, and you invite Alan inside after a cursory glance. You shrug off the wet sop of your jacket and dump it on your desk, heading straight to your closet to where you remember sticking the towels after your last laundry run.
“You can leave your vest on the desk, I’ll hang it above the radiator to dry,” you tell him, and immediately regret it. Stupid. Stupid of you to think your heart can handle the visual of Alan removing any piece of clothing in your vicinity.
You are weighing how stupid it would sound to retract your statement, when Alan clears his throat. “Your, um. Your toy is on the floor.”
You twist around to see your white stuffed rabbit lying on the floor next to your bed. Huh. He must have fallen out when you clambered out of bed this morning, rushing to make your 9am class.
“Oh, you can just set him back on the bed,” you say, before turning to rummage through your closet for towels. You easily locate your spare one with a triumphant ha!, and turn back to hand it to Alan so he can dry off.
…only to see him kneeling next to your rabbit, fingers outstretched as if to pick him up, but hesitant all the same. You blink.
Alan senses your stare, and looks up at you, almost embarrassed. “My hands are dirty.”
You know what he’s talking about – you’ve spent countless hours staring at his fingers as they fill out your forms, watching his hands twist spanners around bolts, dreaming of what his hands would feel like on the bare of your skin. They’re mostly clean (or as clean as he can get with wiping them on spare rags and rinsing them in the sink), but there is always a line of engine grease lingering under his fingernails he can’t quite get out.
You understand what he’s talking about too – he looked up at you one afternoon, seated on the worn leather sofa in the Vagastrom garage as he tinkered with the hood of a car. You were balancing a calculator on one knee and a form on the other, trying to figure out why the budget request for Leo’s next mission was so high and trying to look like you weren’t staring too much at the muscles in Alan’s forearms.
Honour student, he sighed. He set down the wrench. Don’t get involved with me.
You looked up, slightly flustered and alarmed at having been caught, but a protest on the tip of your tongue all the same. He caught the look on your face and shook his head. You don’t want to get mixed up in my life.
You didn’t say anything back then, choosing instead to duck your head to hide the burn in your cheeks, but oh, how you wish you did.
You want him to know how you’ve noticed that his hands and eyes linger longer on you than most, that he takes extra care to clean up whenever you’re around. You want him to know you’ve seen the sidelong glances he’s thrown at you, too, across the garage, and that you’ve seen the red on the tips of his ears after he leans in a bit too close for a bit too long, the peeks he takes whenever he thinks you’re busy fixing something on his phone.
You want to show him how his fierce has always been used for protecting, how his heart has always been built to lead. How his hands have always been meant to build and fix and hold and never to hurt.
You want to tell him that you don’t know what pushed him to make the choices he did all those years ago, but you know that he is more than the product of those choices, more than what those circumstances have made him become. That he’s more than the strength behind his knuckles and the decisions that he’s made, how he’s someone an entire house will rally behind and defend to the death. That he deserves to give himself a chance to go for what he wants, for once.
You shake your head. You hope he understands, this time. “I don’t mind.”
When he still doesn’t move, you move to kneel next to him, towel wrung between your hands. The wet green of his hair hangs over his eyes, but you can see him watching you all the same, almost as if you are the hunter and he is the prey.
“I don’t mind,” you say, again. It comes out as a whisper this time, bullets careening into a moment glass-thin.
His eyes dart up to meet yours, narrowing and wary, but your hands move before he can speak. The brush of your thumb over the rough of his cheek is feather-light, and you will him to understand what you mean when you lean forward to murmur, “That way, I can fall asleep thinking of you.”
You feel Alan’s breath catch as you brush your lips against the edge of his mouth, and you can almost hear the cogs in his head turning, slowly, as you pull away. Please understand.
And when he turns to you, when he gives in to himself, finally, when he presses his lips against yours in a controlled kind of recklessness and the thirst of a man who hasn’t felt the cool of water for days and doesn’t quite believe that he can, it feels like he does.
“Do I have breadcrumbs?” Alan turns to you. You blink, pulled back by the anchor of his voice.
“Mm,” you manage, “I don’t think so, but I do. We can swing by the cathedral to pick it up before heading back to yours?”
Alan hums in agreement, and bends over to retrieve a tray of pork chops from the freezer display. You can’t help it – you lean over to press a small kiss to his cheek as he straightens, and laugh when he turns to you, confused and slightly startled, smile tugging on his lips and blush climbing up his ears.
“Thanks,” you say. For everything.
Alan looks at you, eyes moss-soft, haloed in the artificial bright of supermarket aisle, then places the tray into his basket. He shifts the basket to his other side so he can grab your hand in his free one. “Let’s go home.”
Yes, you think, tangling your fingers into his. Let’s.
Every time I check Reddit TDB there’s anothe of those weird ads…
Lol
Dumb little headcanon: Alan always calls Sho "Bandana" because he's faceblind af and remembers Sho based on his hair, body shape, voice, and that he always wears his bandana. If he took it off it'd take Alan longer to realize who he is. God forbid he cut his hair too short, he wouldn't recognize him at all.
(Tohma thought this was very funny when he transferred to Frostheim and met up with him a month or two later and everything about him was different. Lost some bulk, carried himself differently, wearing a monocle, spoke more formally. . .who the fuck is this gu--Ishibashi?????????????)
my thoughts are like :
