#Tatta Kodai

[sumluckr]

Loser’s Luck

Pairing: Tatta Kodai x female reader (college AU)

Summary: It was supposed to be a one-night stand. When your friends dared you to hook up with one of the so-called “losers” at the bar, you picked Tatta without a second thought—just to prove a point. He was supposed to be a fleeting conquest, a notch on your belt, nothing more. But Tatta, sweet and oblivious as ever, gets the wrong idea. Now, he thinks you’re his girlfriend.

……………………………………………………………………….

You know this is a terrible idea. The thought flashes through your mind for the tenth time in as many seconds, but you shove it down and lift your chin, feigning confidence. The bass-thumping college bar around you is packed with rowdy students letting off steam, and at your table your so-called friends are howling with laughter. Niragi’s arm is slung over the back of your chair as he leans in, breath reeking of tequila, a devilish smirk on his pierced lip.

“I dare you,” he drawls loudly over the music, eyes gleaming with mischief, “to hook up with one of the losers at that table.” He jerks his chin toward the booth next to yours, where four people sit chatting quietly. “Prove you’re not all talk, princess.”

You follow Niragi’s gaze. At the adjacent table, a small group is huddled around a half-empty pitcher of beer. They certainly don’t look like the usual crowd you’d go for. You recognize them from around campus: Arisu, the mop-haired gamer guy who’s perpetually glued to his console in the student lounge; Kuina, the athletic girl with a confident grin; Usagi, the rock-climbing club star with bright eyes; and Tatta—the skinny boy in the vintage anime t-shirt, with messy black hair sticking out from under a faded cap. They’re laughing at something Tatta said, completely unaware of the predatory dare that’s just been issued in their direction.

Losers, Niragi called them. You arch a brow and give him a withering look. “Really, Niragi? What are we, twelve?” you retort, taking a swig of your cocktail. The challenge is juvenile, but you can’t ignore the expectant stares of your friends. Especially Niragi’s—he’s practically vibrating with anticipation at the idea of you sullying your reputation by flirting with someone from that table. He thinks you won’t do it.

And that’s exactly why you will.

Setting your drink down, you shoot Niragi a sharp, saccharine smile. “Fine. Hope your wallet’s ready,” you purr, referencing the fifty-dollar bet he’d slyly added to the dare. A chorus of “oooooh!” rises from your group. Niragi’s grin widens in surprise—you’ve never backed down from a dare before, and you’re not about to start now.

You slide off your chair, smoothing your skirt and tossing your hair over your shoulder. With a final roll of your eyes, you saunter toward the neighboring table, hips swaying with calculated confidence. Game on.

As you approach, Arisu is the first to notice you. His conversation with Kuina stalls mid-sentence, eyes widening a fraction. Usagi follows his gaze and cocks her head curiously. But your focus zeroes in on Tatta, who’s busy trying to fish an ice cube out of his drink with a straw, oblivious to your approach.

“Hi,” you chirp, plastering on your most charming smile. Four heads swivel toward you in unison, a mix of confusion and curiosity written on their faces. Up close, you notice Tatta has warm, brown eyes and he’s staring at you like he’s not sure you’re real. Cute.

“Um—h-hello,” Tatta stammers. He glances to either side, as if checking that you aren’t actually greeting someone else. Adorable. This is going to be like taking candy from a baby.

You rest your hand lightly on the back of Tatta’s chair, leaning in just enough to draw his eyes to the neckline of your top. “Sorry to barge in, but my friends and I were about to play darts,” you lie smoothly, “and we need one more person. Think you could help me out?” You bite your lip and tilt your head in a way you know is flattering.

Tatta’s cheeks flush pink. He opens and closes his mouth wordlessly a couple times before managing, “M-me? Really?” His voice cracks on the last syllable. Behind him, Kuina covers a laugh with a fake cough, and Arisu nudges Tatta’s arm, muttering something like “Go on, man.”

You can practically feel Niragi’s triumphant gaze burning into your back from the next table. He must be loving this. Well, you’ll give him a show, alright.

“Yeah, you.” You giggle—actually giggle, a sound you haven’t made in years but know will seal the deal. “Unless you’re too busy here?”

“N-no! Not busy!” Tatta blurts, almost tipping over his glass in his haste to stand. He’s tall and gangly when he unfolds himself from the booth, nearly tripping over Kuina’s foot. You steady him with a hand on his arm. He’s surprisingly solid under the loose flannel shirt he’s wearing.

“Great,” you beam, sliding your hand down his forearm to lace your fingers with his. His palm is a little sweaty, but he’s too stunned to notice—or pull away. “This way.”

You lead Tatta away, throwing a quick wink over your shoulder at his friends. Usagi is watching with an amused grin, and Arisu gives Tatta an encouraging thumbs-up. Kuina mouths “Good luck” at him and cackles. They all seem pleasantly surprised that their friend has suddenly caught the attention of a random girl at the bar. If only they knew.

Poor guy, you think fleetingly as you tug him through the crowd. He’s practically glowing, face lit up with a goofy smile as he follows you. He has no idea he’s just a pawn in a dumb dare. For a split second, a tiny pang of guilt pricks at your chest. But you shove it aside—he’ll get a fun night out of this, at least. You’ll make sure of that. Then you’ll both move on. No harm, no foul.

At the dart boards, Niragi and a couple of your girlfriends are waiting, barely containing their laughter. You ignore their smug faces and hand Tatta a dart. “Ever played?” you ask sweetly, stepping closer than necessary.

Tatta swallows hard. “Uh, a f-few times.” He glances at Niragi and the others, seemingly noticing their barely hidden snickers. His smile falters uncertainly. He might not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but he can probably sense something’s up.

Time to crank up the charm before he starts thinking too hard.

You place a hand on his back, leaning in under the pretense of lining up a shot. “Here, let me help,” you coo. Tatta stiffens as your body presses lightly against his side. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch Niragi waggling his eyebrows obnoxiously. You pointedly ignore him.

“Just aim right for the middle,” you murmur. Tatta turns his head to respond—finding his face inches from yours. He freezes, eyes wide behind his glasses. For a moment, you wonder if you overdid it. But then his gaze dips to your lips, and you know you’ve got him.

The rest of the game goes almost too easily. A few rounds of darts (during which Tatta is so distracted by you that he nearly impales Niragi’s ear with a throw—much to your secret delight). A couple more drinks. Some shameless flirting on your part—light touches on his arm, laughter at his corny jokes, a bold whisper in his ear about how impressed you are by his dart skills. Each gesture makes Tatta blush harder and stammer more. It’s actually kind of…endearing, in a helpless puppy kind of way.

When Niragi and your girlfriends disappear to get another round, you seize the opportunity for the coup de grâce. Standing on your tiptoes, you murmur to Tatta over the din, “Wanna get out of here? Maybe somewhere quieter… just us?” You let your fingers trail lightly along the waist of his jeans, tugging playfully at a belt loop.

Tatta practically chokes on air. “I—um—Yes! I mean, sure, if you want—” he babbles, eyes sparkling with disbelief and excitement. He really never expected a girl to come on to him this hard, you realize. The thought is both pitiful and strangely cute.

“Great,” you purr, feeling oddly triumphant. Behind you, Niragi is too busy doing a celebratory shot to notice you and Tatta slipping toward the exit. You cast one last glance back at your table. Niragi catches your eye and gives you an exaggerated thumbs-up, mouthing, “Atta girl.” You roll your eyes but smirk. He’s going to owe you fifty bucks, and you get a little fun for the night. Everybody wins.

Except, maybe, the clueless boy at your side—but he’ll be fine. He’ll have a story to brag about to his buddies tomorrow.

As you emerge into the cool night air outside the bar with Tatta’s hand still firmly in yours, you toss your hair and let out a small laugh. “My place isn’t far,” you say innocently, as if you haven’t already decided exactly how this night is going to end. Tatta nods enthusiastically, sticking close to your side as you lead the way down the moonlit street.

He’s adorably nervous on the walk. He chatters about nothing—the cool retro arcade near campus, a funny meme he saw, how he usually doesn’t go out drinking on Fridays but Arisu dragged him along. You just smile and hum in the right places, not really listening. You’re more focused on how easy this turned out to be. Honestly, it almost takes the fun out of it. Niragi’s going to have to come up with a tougher challenge next time if he wants to really embarrass you.

Still, as Tatta continues rambling, you find yourself…not minding it. His voice is kind of nice in a dorky way, and there’s an earnestness in how he talks. It’s clear he’s just trying to fill the silence so you won’t get bored. He’s actually trying to impress me, you realize with a faint smile. Most guys you hook up with only talk about themselves. Tatta keeps asking you questions—What classes are you taking? Do you like video games? Did you see that new superhero movie? You dodge most of them with flirtatious non-answers, and he doesn’t press when you give vague replies, just looks happy you’re engaging at all.

Before you know it, you’re at your apartment door. The night’s blurred pleasantly by alcohol and adrenaline. You fumble out your keys. “Here we are,” you announce softly.

Tatta hovers a step behind, hands jammed in his pockets, rocking on his heels. “You, um, you have a nice place,” he offers, peeking into your living room after you both kick off your shoes. You just chuckle—he hasn’t even seen it in daylight, but sure, flatter me.

“Thanks.” You close the door and toss your keys aside. The click of the lock is like a starting gun: Tatta turns toward you and you step into him at the same time. Your hands slide up around his neck, fingers brushing the hair at his nape. He inhales sharply, eyes searching yours. For one brief second, you see uncertainty there—like he can’t believe this is really happening.

You give him a reassuring smile, far gentler than any you flashed at the bar. “You can kiss me now,” you whisper.

He doesn’t need to be told twice. Tatta leans down, and you meet him halfway, your lips pressing together. The kiss starts sweet and clumsy—his nose bumps yours, and he lets out a nervous little laugh against your mouth. You smirk and take the lead, moving your lips more firmly, showing him you want this. That’s all the encouragement he needs. With an eager sigh, Tatta wraps his arms around your waist and kisses you back with a heart-melting sincerity, as if he’s pouring all of his pent-up hopes into the act.

It’s…nice. Nicer than you expected.

Focus, you remind yourself as a pesky flutter warms your chest. You deepen the kiss, tugging him toward the couch, determined to make this a night he (and your friends) won’t forget.

After all, come tomorrow, it’ll be like none of this ever happened. Right?

The next morning sunlight slants through your window, landing directly on your face and rudely yanking you out of a dreamless sleep. You groan, squinting at the harsh light. Ugh, my head… Perhaps those last two cocktails were a mistake.

As you stretch, you become acutely aware of several things at once: you’re in your bed, distinctly not alone. There’s a heavy arm draped over your midsection, and a very real, very warm body cuddled up against your back. An arm that is definitely not yours tightens slightly, pulling you closer against a solid chest. You hear soft breathing, and then a contented sigh.

Memory floods back in disjointed flashes: Your daring, seductive grin; Tatta’s shy smile; clothes strewn hastily across your living room; a blur of heated kisses and whispered encouragements; and later, an arm around your waist as you drifted off, surprisingly comfortable and cozy.

Oh. Oh. Right.

Eyes snapping fully open, you hold your breath, trying to carefully peel Tatta’s arm off without waking him. Maybe you can slip out, avoid the awkward morning-after conversation entirely. You’ve done it before. Just a one-night stand—no strings, no drama.

But as you gently lift his arm, attempting to slide out from under it, the human limpet attached to you only snuggles closer. “Mmmph…” Tatta mumbles groggily. To your horror, he nuzzles his face into the back of your neck. “So comfy…” he murmurs, voice thick with sleep.

You freeze. Is he… cuddling me?

For a second, you’re too stunned to move. Hardly any guy you’ve hooked up with even stayed the night, let alone cuddled. In fact, you usually prefer they don’t. Less messy that way. So you’re not exactly sure how to handle this unexpected, affectionate clinginess.

Annoyance flickers through you, bolstering your resolve. Alright Casanova, time to wake up and go, you think, steeling yourself. You carefully pry his arm off and scoot to the edge of the bed. This time, you manage to sit up and place your feet on the floor. Step one of Operation Escape: complete.

Before you can rise, though, a gentle hand closes around your wrist. “Hey,” comes Tatta’s voice, soft and still a little drowsy. You glance back to find him blinking up at you with a bleary smile. His hair is sticking out in all directions and his cheek has a faint red mark from where it was pressed against your pillow. The sight is—dare you admit it?—kind of cute.

“Hey,” you reply, awkwardly lingering at the bed’s edge, one wrist still in his grasp. Now that he’s looking at you, you realize with a flush that you’re very naked under the covers. You clutch the sheet to your chest with your free hand, suddenly self-conscious. Usually, you’d confidently strut to the bathroom or kick the guy out without a second thought. But Tatta’s earnest gaze is throwing you off.

“Morning,” he says, voice warming with each passing second of wakefulness. “I, um… I didn’t dream that, right? Last night…you and me…?” He trails off, cheeks pinking as if the memories alone might be too bold to say out loud.

You force a breezy smile. “No dream,” you confirm. “Last night was real.” And it was fun, you don’t add, because you’re not sure why the words stick in your throat. Instead, you clear it and add lightly, “But, you know, it was just a… just a casual thing.”

It’s your practiced routine: keep it casual, set the expectation that this was a one-time deal. Most guys get the hint quick.

Tatta tilts his head, still smiling in that disarmingly genuine way. “Casual…” he echoes, as if tasting the word. Then he sits up, holding the sheet modestly around his waist. “Well, I feel great,” he offers, running a hand through his messy hair. “I mean, last night was…wow.” He laughs a little, a giddy, joyful sound. “Never in a million years thought I’d meet someone like you at a bar dart game. I’m really glad I went out.” His eyes meet yours, warm and unguarded.

You feel a twinge of something like guilt, so you stand up abruptly, wrapping the sheet around yourself like a toga. “Yeah, well, you got lucky,” you say flippantly, trying to regain control of the situation. Moving around the room, you gather random pieces of your clothing from the floor. There’s your top slung over your desk lamp, your skirt somehow ended up on the doorknob… And where the hell are your—

“Oh! Here.” Tatta reaches down beside the bed and comes up with your panties dangling from his finger. Your face flames as he quickly averts his gaze and offers them out to you, his own ears turning red. “Sorry, I, uh, think these got tossed my way last night,” he says sheepishly.

You snatch them, your cool-girl composure momentarily cracked. “Thanks,” you mutter, avoiding his eyes. God, this is awkward. Why is this awkward? You’ve done this a hundred times. Well, maybe not a hundred, but enough that you have a routine. So why is your heart doing a weird skip thing in your chest?

Probably the hangover.

In the safety of the bathroom, you splash water on your face and get dressed in record time. You stare at yourself in the mirror as you tame your hair, giving yourself a silent pep talk. Okay. Deep breath. Just get him out of here gently, then you can move on with your life. No need to feel bad—he wanted it too, right? He certainly seemed to enjoy himself. And who knows, maybe you made his semester.

You nod at your reflection, squaring your shoulders. When you emerge, Tatta is off the bed and has pulled on his jeans. He’s clumsily buttoning his wrinkled shirt—inside out. You stifle the urge to laugh. It’s almost cute how not slick he is.

“Coffee?” he asks brightly when he notices you, as if this is the most normal morning-after scenario in the world. You blink, realizing he’s holding two mugs—one in each hand. The rich scent hits you a second later. At some point while you were in the bathroom, he went to your kitchen and actually made coffee.

He steps forward, offering you one of the mugs with a hopeful smile. “I, uh, didn’t know how you take it, so I left it black. There’s sugar or milk if you want, I can grab—”

“No, it’s fine.” You accept the cup, staring at him like he just sprouted a second head. None of your previous flings ever voluntarily made you coffee. Hell, most of them bolted before breakfast or at least took the hint when you rushed them out. This… this is new.

Tatta beams when you take a sip. It’s strong and a little bitter (guess he didn’t find the good creamer in your fridge), but it’s oddly warming. Or maybe that’s just because he’s looking at you like you hung the stars for him. You cough and gesture vaguely. “So, um, about last night—”

“Yeah,” he interrupts, rubbing the back of his neck. “I had a really great time.” There’s a rosy tint on his cheeks, but he’s earnest. “I was thinking…maybe we could do something tonight? Like, go see a movie or grab dinner? My treat this time.”

Your brain stutters to a halt. Tonight? As in… he wants to meet again? You were expecting a graceful exit here, not an ask for a date.

“Oh—Tatta, that’s sweet, but you really don’t have to—” you begin, ready to let him down easy. You appreciate that he’s being nice, but clearly he’s misreading what this was.

He barrels on, mistaking your hesitation for uncertainty rather than rejection. “Or if tonight’s too soon, I’m free tomorrow. Or, I mean, I’m free most days, I can work around your schedule. I’d love to take you out properly.”

You open your mouth, then close it. He’s standing there, hair still messy, shirt on wrong, looking at you with such hope. Damn it. Why do his eyes have to be so warm and puppy-like? And why do you suddenly feel like the jerk for not wanting to “date” him?

Because you are the jerk, a guilty voice at the back of your mind supplies. You used him for a dare, remember? He doesn’t know that, of course, but still.

Your resolve wavers, just for a second. Maybe…maybe one dinner wouldn’t hurt? You could break it off after, gently. At least he won’t feel completely used.

Since when do you care about sparing feelings? another part of you hisses. You shake your head slightly. No, you need to rip this off like a band-aid, now. Clean break.

You put down the coffee mug on your dresser, hoping he doesn’t notice that your hand is trembling ever so slightly. “Tatta,” you begin slowly, choosing your words. “Last night was… really fun. But I’m not looking for anything serious, you know? It was just one night.”

He blinks, clearly not processing. “One night…? But—” He frowns in confusion, and you prepare for the awkwardness to intensify. “But we slept together,” he says, as if that explains everything.

You nod, forcing a chuckle. “Yeah, we did. And it was great. But that doesn’t automatically make us…” you gesture between the two of you, “…a thing.”

The hurt that flashes in his eyes is quickly masked, but you catch it. He looks like a puppy that just got kicked. “Oh,” he says quietly. “I… I thought we really hit it off.”

You resist the urge to fidget under his earnest stare. This is the part you hate—the disappointment, sometimes even anger. But better now than letting him think there’s a future.

“We did,” you say gently. Why are you being so gentle? Usually you’d just shrug and say C’est la vie. “It’s just… sometimes people hook up and move on. No hard feelings. It’s college, right? We had fun, and now…” you trail off, hoping he fills in the blank with we go back to our lives. You give a half-hearted smile.

Tatta’s brows knit together like he’s working through a complicated math problem. “So… you don’t want to see me again?” he asks, the simple, blunt phrasing making you wince.

It sounds awfully cruel when he puts it like that. You open your mouth to confirm, to say sorry, but no, maybe toss out the classic “It’s not you, it’s me” if needed. But the words die on your tongue.

He’s not accusing or angry. He just looks… sad. And incredibly sincere. “I really like you,” he continues softly before you can respond. “I haven’t met anyone like you before. Last night was amazing, not just because, um, you know.” He blushes but presses on, “But because you actually talked to me… listened to me. You laughed at my jokes.” He gives a tiny, almost shy smile at the memory, and you feel something twist in your chest. Was it really that big a deal? You were just playing along… but to him, it clearly meant something.

Tatta takes a step closer, and you suddenly realize how much taller he is; you had him slouched under your arm all last night, but standing here now he’s a good head above you. It’s not intimidating though—nothing about him is. It’s… warm. Comforting.

“I’d like to get to know you more,” he says earnestly. “I promise I’ll make it worth your time. I can— I mean, I’m not rich or anything, but I know this great little diner off campus, and they have the best milkshakes. Or if you’d rather do something else—”

He’s rambling, nervous, desperate to convince you. You should stop him, cut it off. This is the moment. Say no.

But what comes out is: “A diner, huh?”

Your voice sounds foreign to your own ears—half bemused, half curious. He stops mid-ramble, eyes lighting up a fraction. “Yeah! Sunshine Diner? It’s open 24/7, and their chocolate banana milkshake changed my life,” he says, seizing the opening to continue. “We could go tomorrow morning for brunch? Or anytime! Whatever works for you.”

Your brain is short-circuiting. Why are you even considering this? You don’t do dates. You certainly don’t do corny diners and milkshakes. You’re supposed to be telling him to leave.

And yet… the thought of him leaving right now, with that crestfallen face, makes your chest feel uncomfortably tight. Maybe you just don’t want to be the bad guy. That’s it. You’re just avoiding feeling like garbage by kicking out the sweetest guy on the planet after sleeping with him. Right?

“Tomorrow… could work,” you hear yourself say slowly.

Tatta’s face breaks into a dazzling smile, and despite your inner turmoil, you have to admit that smile is something to behold. Pure, unfiltered happiness. Because of you. When was the last time someone looked at you like that?

“Really? Great! Tomorrow then,” he beams. “I can meet you on campus? Or pick you up here? Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“Uh, campus is fine,” you reply, and then add quickly, “But just as…you know, as friends getting brunch. Don’t think this means anything yet.” You need to set some boundary before this gets out of hand. Your tone comes out harsher than intended, a last-ditch effort to maintain your tough-girl wall.

“Friends,” Tatta echoes, unfazed. He nods a bit too eagerly. “Sure, friends.” But the grin on his face doesn’t dim one bit. You get the sense he’s agreeing just to please you and still internally celebrating I’ve got a date!.

Before you can reconsider (because God, part of you is already wondering if this is a huge mistake), you usher Tatta to the door. “I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow then,” you say, opening it.

He looks at you for a moment, an affectionate sort of softness in his gaze that you’re not accustomed to receiving. Then, to your surprise, he dips down and presses a quick, gentle kiss to your cheek. It’s over before you can react, leaving a warm spot on your skin.

“Thank you,” he says quietly, almost like he’s thanking you for more than just the night. “I’ll text you, okay?”

You nod dumbly. Words have officially failed you. With a little wave, Tatta heads down the hallway of your apartment building, whistling cheerfully. You stand frozen in your doorway watching his retreating figure until he disappears around the stairwell corner.

Only then do you shut the door and lean against it, sheet still wrapped around you like a lifeline. What the hell just happened?

You just agreed to a brunch date with the very guy you intended to one-night-stand and kick to the curb. The same guy you essentially seduced on a dare for fifty bucks and bragging rights. You should be storming back into your friend group chat with triumphant emojis, collecting Niragi’s money and laughing this whole thing off. Instead, you’re standing here touching your cheek like a lovesick fool where a sweet, undeserved kiss lingers.

“This was not the plan,” you mutter to yourself, sinking your teeth into your lower lip. Not at all.

Later that day, you nearly convince yourself that brunch tomorrow is just a fluke—one last hurrah before you gently let Tatta down and move on. You even text Niragi to rub in your victory (and to distract yourself): Where’s my $50, loser? He responds with a string of impressed-and-dismayed emojis and a voice memo of him groaning dramatically about how he can’t believe you “actually went through with it.” You smirk, but your heart’s not fully in it. Normally you’d relish describing in detail how you bagged your target, but you find yourself oddly…protective of the previous night. You give Niragi only the barest of details, saying you’d rather tell it in person later. Niragi tries to call you for more juice, but you let it ring. You’re too busy overthinking.

Evening rolls around, and you’re strolling through campus heading to the library (you have an assignment due Monday that you’ve procrastinated on). The air is crisp, the sky a deepening orange. You take a shortcut across the courtyard by the science building, when you spot a familiar lanky figure sitting on a bench, hunched over a notebook.

Tatta.

You instinctively slow your pace. He hasn’t seen you yet. He’s scribbling something, headphones on, nodding slightly to whatever music he’s listening to. The setting sun casts a golden halo around him. This is a chance to back away unnoticed, to avoid an awkward pre-brunch encounter. You take a step behind a tree, almost ready to retreat.

But something makes you pause. Maybe it’s the memory of his smile this morning, or the lingering guilt gnawing at you. You find yourself curious what he’s like when he’s not nervously trying to impress a girl. Just… Tatta being Tatta.

As if sensing your eyes on him, Tatta suddenly looks up and spots you half-hidden behind the tree. He blinks in surprise, then breaks into a delighted grin. He pulls off his headphones, tucking them around his neck. “Hey!” he calls out, waving you over enthusiastically.

Well, too late to duck out now. Plastering on a neutral expression, you approach. “Hey, Tatta.”

He scoots to the side of the bench, making room. “What’re you doing here?” he asks brightly. You notice he’s still wearing that same style of graphic tee (today’s features some retro game logo) under an unbuttoned hoodie. It’s kind of charmingly consistent.

“Heading to the library,” you reply, gesturing to your bag. “Thought I’d get some work done.”

“On a Friday night?” He gives a low whistle. “Diligent. I should probably be doing that too.” He closes the notebook he was writing in, and you catch a glimpse of sketches—are those cartoon cars? You recall from some campus chatter that he’s a mechanical engineering student, or was it automotive tech? Figures he’d be doodling engines or something.

“What about you?” you ask, curious despite yourself. “What’re you up to out here?”

“Ah.” Tatta holds up the notebook a little sheepishly. “Just writing some ideas down. I volunteer at the auto club’s workshop, and I had an idea for a custom part I want to build. Sometimes inspiration strikes at weird times, you know?”

You don’t really know—tinkering with cars is foreign to you—but the way his eyes light up while he talks is…nice. He’s not self-conscious at all now, unlike last night. He’s in his element, even if that element is just brainstorming alone on a bench. There’s an ease to him that you didn’t notice before.

You catch yourself almost smiling and quickly reel it back. “Sounds cool,” you say politely. Then you clear your throat. “So, um, about tomorrow—”

He sits up straighter, attention snapping fully to you. “Yes! I’m excited. I was thinking, after we eat, there’s this retro arcade nearby… but only if you want! No pressure.” He adds the last part hastily, as if worried he’s assuming too much.

Retro arcade? The typical you would scoff at such a dorky date idea. But an inconvenient mental image pops up: Tatta at a claw machine, earnestly trying to win you a stuffed animal or something equally corny. And weirdly… it’s not horrifying. It’s… kind of sweet?

You internally curse and shove that thought away. Focus. You’re here to manage expectations. “Actually, about that… Look, Tatta, I need to be upfront.” You steel yourself, speaking firmly but not unkindly. “I’m… not really a relationship person. I kind of do my own thing, you know? Last night was awesome, but I don’t want you to get the wrong idea about me and you.”

Tatta listens, nodding slowly. But then he asks, “Why not?” with genuine confusion.

You falter. “Why not… what?”

“Why not me and you? I mean, I know it’s fast, but we clicked, didn’t we?” His tone is innocent, but his eyes search yours like he’s truly trying to understand. “We had fun, we’re going to hang out more… isn’t that how things start?”

You’re not used to this kind of earnest, straightforward reasoning. It would be almost childlike if it weren’t coming from a grown college guy. People usually dance around like this or ghost each other. No one just asks point blank.

“Usually, I… I don’t start anything. I stop it,” you admit, crossing your arms defensively. “It’s just easier that way.”

Tatta tilts his head. “Easier to not get close to people?”

You bristle. “Look, I just don’t do the dating thing, okay? Call it personal policy.”

He’s quiet for a moment, then gives a small shrug and a smile. “Well, policies can change. Mine used to be ‘I’ll never get a girlfriend’ and, well…” He blushes slightly but looks at you with a soft, unwavering hope. “I’d like to change that one.”

For a second, you’re speechless. Did he just indirectly call you his girlfriend already? This guy… It’s infuriating how he can say something so bold and sweet in the same breath, completely unaware of how it makes your heart do a weird flip.

You run a hand through your hair, exasperated. “You’re not even listening. I’m trying to tell you I’m not girlfriend material. I’m mean, remember? I’m not nice like…” you gesture vaguely, “like other girls. I might hurt your feelings. I’m probably no good for you.”

Tatta stands up from the bench, and now you have to tilt your head up to meet his eyes. He’s still smiling, but it’s gentler now. “You don’t seem mean to me,” he says simply.

You almost laugh. “Oh, trust me, I can be. I was last night, if you haven’t realized.” The dare, the manipulation—it’s on the tip of your tongue to confess, weirdly. Maybe if you tell him the truth he’ll finally get it and walk away.

But he just shakes his head. “Last night you were confident and fun and…” He blushes deeper, but keeps eye contact. “And incredibly beautiful. You could’ve chosen any guy in that bar to spend time with, but you chose me. That meant a lot.”

Your throat constricts. He has no idea the real reason you picked him, and here he is thanking his lucky stars, basically. It feels like too much. You didn’t earn this admiration—hell, you basically tricked him. If he knew, he’d probably never want to see you again, and maybe that’d be for the best.

You’re on the verge of spilling everything, just to shatter that pedestal he’s put you on, when a loud voice interrupts: “Oi, lovebirds!”

You turn to see Niragi strolling across the courtyard toward you, hands in his leather jacket pockets, black hair disheveled and that perpetual arrogant grin on his face. Oh, fantastic. Just what you need.

Tatta looks puzzled at first, but then you see recognition flash in his eyes. “Oh, hey, you’re the guy from last night,” he says, friendly as ever. “Niragi, right? Part of…” he glances at you, “…your friend group.” He obviously remembers Niragi from the darts game and probably the dare context (though maybe not that it was a dare).

Niragi saunters up, eyeing Tatta with a predatory gleam. “Well, if it isn’t Romeo,” he sneers lightly. “I see you survived the night.” Niragi gives you a pointed look and a smirk. “Didn’t chew him up and spit him out yet, huh?” he teases.

Your stomach drops. Niragi might as well have swung a sledgehammer into the subtlety wall. You send him a death glare, silently willing him to shut up. “Don’t you have somewhere to be, Niragi?” you say through gritted teeth.

He ignores you, eyes still fixed on Tatta like a cat toying with a mouse. “Gotta hand it to you, man. You must have some serious hidden game to land this one.” He claps a hand on Tatta’s shoulder, making him wince slightly at the force. “Though I’m sure she told you all about why she picked you, eh?” Niragi adds, his tone viciously playful.

Tatta frowns in confusion, looking between you and Niragi. “Why she picked me…?” he echoes.

Your heart lurches. “Niragi. Don’t,” you warn sharply. Panic flares in your chest. This is exactly what you didn’t want—Tatta finding out about the dare. Not like this. Not from Niragi’s cruel mouth.

Niragi just snickers. “What, you haven’t told him, princess? That it was all a big—”

Without thinking, you step forward and shove Niragi back, breaking his grip on Tatta’s shoulder. Niragi staggers, caught off guard. “Back off,” you snap, positioning yourself almost defensively in front of Tatta.

Tatta places a tentative hand on your arm. “Hey, it’s okay,” he says quietly. He misreads the situation entirely, thinking Niragi’s just being a typical jerk. “No need to fight.”

But Niragi’s eyes flick down to that touch, and his grin grows. “Aw, he’s protective of you. How sweet.” He wipes an imaginary tear. “Never thought I’d see the day you’d have him as a guard dog.”

“That’s enough!” you bark. You can feel Tatta’s confused gaze on the back of your neck, but you don’t dare turn. Your face is hot with anger and shame. Niragi is your friend, sure, but right now you’d gladly throttle him. “Go to hell, Niragi.”

He raises his hands in mock surrender, an infuriating chuckle escaping. “Alright, alright. I’ll leave you two alone.” He backs up, but not without a parting shot: “Just remember what I said, Tatta. Ask her why, sometime.” He winks conspiratorially at Tatta, then strides off, whistling a tune.

Silence hangs in the air once Niragi disappears. Slowly, you turn to face Tatta. His expression is worried, brows furrowed. “What was that about?” he asks gently. “What did he mean?”

Your mouth goes dry. This is it. You should tell him. This is your out—be honest, let the chips fall. If he hates you, if you lose that sunshine smile of his… well, you’ve been trying to push him away anyway, right?

But when you meet Tatta’s eyes, there’s no accusation there. No suspicion. Just concern for you. He reaches up as if to touch your cheek, then hesitates. “Are you okay? You look upset.”

That simple display of care just wrecks your resolve. You can’t do it. You can’t crush him with the knowledge that all this was born from a cruel joke. Not when he’s looking at you like that.

You take a shaky breath. “I’m fine. Niragi’s just being an ass.” Technically true. “He…he thinks he can scare you off. He’s overprotective in the worst way.” Also sort of true, though “overprotective” isn’t exactly Niragi’s motive.

Tatta’s face clears in understanding, and he surprises you by laughing softly. “Oh, is that all? I’m not scared. I mean, he’s a little intense, but I can handle a jerk.” He smiles and adds, “I did almost hit him with a dart, remember?”

You let out a breathy laugh, grateful he’s not pressing further. “Yeah. You nearly pierced his ear. I was pretty impressed.”

He brightens at your laughter, and before you know it, his hand gently finds yours. Right there in the middle of campus, he laces your fingers together, his thumb rubbing a small, soothing circle on the back of your hand. It’s such a natural, sweet gesture that it steals your breath for a moment.

“We should probably get going,” he says. “You’ve got studying to do, and I should get home. But…” He hesitates, then gives your hand a tiny squeeze. “Are we still on for tomorrow?”

You look down at your joined hands. You, the campus ice queen (as some have called you behind your back), holding hands with Tatta, one of the so-called misfits. If any of your friends saw—hell, if you saw, a day ago—you’d think the world had flipped upside down.

And yet, standing here, it feels… okay. More than okay, it feels kind of nice. His hand is warm and enveloping around yours, anchoring you.

You glance up and catch Tatta watching you with that hopeful vulnerability. He’s clearly bracing himself in case you say no.

A small, genuine smile finds its way to your lips before you can stop it. “Yeah,” you hear yourself say softly. “We’re still on.”

He grins, relief and happiness evident. “Great! I can’t wait.”

You give his hand a quick squeeze back (when did you start doing these cutesy gestures willingly?) and withdraw yours, conscious of not wanting to linger too long and give him the wrong idea—whatever that is at this point. “Text me the time to meet,” you say, trying to sound casual. “I’ll be there.”

“I will!” Tatta rocks on his heels, looking like he’s resisting the urge to hug you or something. Instead, he settles for a wave. “See ya tomorrow… and good luck with the studying tonight.”

“Thanks,” you murmur, and you mean it.

As he jogs off, you watch for a moment. There’s a noticeable spring in his step. You exhale slowly, feelings a jumble in your chest. You’re in so deep now, and you’re not sure how to climb out—or if you even want to anymore.

One thing is certain: he’s got you completely off your game.

Sunday morning finds you standing outside Sunshine Diner, the retro neon sign buzzing faintly above your head. You tug at the hem of your sweater nervously. Yes, nervously. You. Nervous about a brunch date. Who’d have thought?

You spot Tatta before he sees you: he’s waiting by the entrance, hands in his pockets, shifting from foot to foot. When he catches sight of you, he breaks into an excited wave.

You inhale, fix what you hope is a neutral, not overly eager expression on your face, and walk over. “Hey,” you greet.

“Hi!” He looks absurdly happy that you showed up (as if there was a chance you wouldn’t—well, to be fair, you considered it). “I got us a booth, hope that’s okay. The lady inside said it’ll be a few minutes wait.”

“Sure.” You fall in step beside him as you both head in. The diner is just as retro as promised—checkered floors, red vinyl booths, a jukebox in the corner playing an old pop song. It’s almost empty at this hour, just a couple of elderly patrons and a tired-looking waitress.

You slide into the booth Tatta points out, and he sits opposite you, picking up the sticky laminated menu. “You have to try the banana chocolate milkshake,” he says immediately, eyes dancing. “It really did change my life.”

You smirk, relaxing a fraction at his dorky enthusiasm. “That good, huh? Alright, I’ll bite. One life-changing milkshake.”

He grins and flags down the waitress to place your orders (two milkshakes and a stack of pancakes to share). As she leaves, an awkward pause settles. You drum your fingers on the table, suddenly unsure what to talk about. This isn’t the bar with loud music and dares to spur you. This is… a real date.

Thankfully, Tatta fills the silence. “So, um, I know you said you’re not a big gamer, but have you ever been to that arcade I mentioned? It’s got all these classic games—Pac-Man, Street Fighter, even those dance ones.”

You shake your head. “Can’t say I have. I’m usually… busy with other stuff.” Partying, hooking up, avoiding commitments—take your pick. Not that you’ll say that.

“No worries. Maybe we can go sometime, if you’re interested,” he says, then quickly adds, “Or not! No pressure. It’s just fun and silly.”

He’s so nervous about overstepping that you actually find yourself wanting to put him at ease. “You know what? That could be fun,” you hear yourself say. “I could use some…silliness.”

Tatta’s face lights up like a kid on Christmas. “Really? Awesome. I bet I could teach you a few moves on Dance Dance Revolution,” he jokes, wiggling his shoulders in a little seated dance that makes you snort.

“You assume I have no rhythm?” you challenge, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, I remember your rhythm.” Tatta blushes the second the bold statement leaves his lips, and your own cheeks heat up recalling how very up-close and personal he got to witness your… moves. “I-I mean—” he stammers, looking mortified.

You burst out laughing, unable to help it. “Wow, Tatta. Didn’t know you had it in you.”

He covers his face with one hand, groaning. “I swear that sounded way smoother in my head.”

Still chuckling, you reach across the table and gently tug his hand away from his embarrassed face. “It’s fine. I walked into that one.” That simple bit of contact—your hand on his—lingers longer than it should before you pull away. Both of you notice, falling quiet for a beat, shy smiles ghosting your lips.

The milkshakes arrive, mercifully interrupting the moment before it can get too heavy. You take a sip of the frothy concoction through a striped straw, and your eyes widen. “Oh, wow.”

Tatta’s already halfway through a big gulp of his. “Good, right?” he says, licking a bit of whipped cream off his upper lip. Focus, you chide yourself, realizing you were staring at his mouth.

You clear your throat. “Not bad at all.” It’s actually divine, but you’re not going to feed his ego too much. Still, your more genuine tone doesn’t escape him.

“I’m glad you like it,” he says softly. “I was hoping you would.”

And there it is again, that earnest sweetness that keeps throwing you off balance. You busy yourself by cutting into the pancake stack that just arrived. “So,” you ask between bites, “besides cars and video games, what else are you into? What’s Tatta’s grand life plan?”

He laughs. “Grand might be an overstatement. I’m just trying to get through college and see what happens. I really do love working with cars, though. Maybe I’ll open up my own garage someday, or work for a big automotive company. What about you? What’s your major again?”

You tell him, and to your surprise, he listens with genuine interest as you find yourself talking about your classes, your maybe-maybe-not plans for after graduation. You hadn’t expected to divulge that much, but he’s easy to talk to when you let your guard down—like talking to an old friend who actually cares.

Halfway through brunch, you realize you’re… enjoying yourself. Like, a lot. Laughing, talking, even flirting a little. And none of it feels forced. Tatta is ridiculously easy to be around once you stop worrying about what anyone else might think.

Outside the diner, the late morning sun is shining bright. Tatta insists on picking up the tab (“You can pay next time,” he said, as if assuming there’d be a next time—and for once, you didn’t bristle at that). You both step out, and he stretches his arms over his head, content. “Man, I am stuffed.”

“Me too. Those pancakes were killer,” you agree, feeling pleasantly full. There’s a comfortable silence as you walk a few steps together on the sidewalk. You should probably say goodbye now, go back to your Sunday. But you find yourself lingering.

Tatta turns to you, rocking on his heels, looking like he wants to say something. He fiddles with the strap of his watch, nervous. “I had a really great time,” he says finally. “Like, one of the best mornings I’ve had in… well, ever.”

Your heart does a stupid little flip. “It was… surprisingly fun,” you admit with a tiny smirk. “I’ll give the milkshake partial credit.”

He laughs, then takes a small step closer. The playful mood softens into something more tender as he reaches up to brush a strand of hair away from your face. You hold still, caught in the moment. His hand lingers at the side of your neck, thumb gently caressing your jaw in a way that sends warmth blooming through you.

“I’d really like to kiss you right now,” he whispers, gaze flickering to your lips and back to your eyes, seeking permission. Always so considerate.

Your instinct is to toss out a snarky retort to diffuse the sudden rush of butterflies in your stomach, but instead, you find yourself whispering back, “Then go ahead.”

Tatta doesn’t need to be told twice. He leans in, and you meet him halfway, lips fitting together in a kiss that’s soft and unhurried. This kiss is different from the ones you shared last night in the heat of lust. It’s sweet and gentle, full of unspoken feelings that have been quietly growing between you. You sigh into it, your hands finding their way to the front of his hoodie, gripping the fabric as if to keep him close.

When you finally part, you’re both smiling. He rests his forehead against yours, eyes closed in contentment. “Does… does this mean I can call you my girlfriend now?” he asks in a half-joking, half-hopeful tone, eyes still shut like he’s afraid to break the spell if he looks at you.

Your first reaction is to tease him, to say “Don’t push your luck.” But the word girlfriend doesn’t send you running like it would have a few days ago. Instead, it makes your chest feel warm.

You gently nudge his forehead with yours, making him open his eyes. “I suppose I can allow that,” you murmur with a mock-affected sigh, as if it’s such hard work, but your smile gives you away.

“Really?” Tatta’s face lights up, and it’s so radiant you can’t help but laugh.

“Don’t make me change my mind,” you tease, poking his chest lightly.

He responds by wrapping you in a joyful hug, lifting you off the ground and spinning you once. You yelp in surprise and cling to his shoulders. “Tatta! Put me down, you dork!”

He sets you down immediately, concern flashing across his face. “Oh! Sorry, I didn’t— I got excited.”

You laugh, sliding your hands down from his shoulders to his hands, interlacing your fingers with his to show you’re not actually upset. “It’s okay. Just warn me before you go full twirl next time.”

“Next time,” he repeats softly, grinning ear to ear. He gives your joined hands a light swing. Neither of you seems inclined to let go.

Standing there on the sunlit sidewalk, wrapped up in each other, you suddenly remember Niragi’s dare—the starting point of this whole crazy situation. It seems like a lifetime ago, rather than just a couple of days. If Niragi could see you now, he’d probably lose his mind.

The thought makes you snicker under your breath. Tatta raises an eyebrow, curious. “What’s funny?”

You shake your head. “Just thinking how my friends are gonna react,” you confess. “They, uh… they didn’t exactly expect this outcome.” That’s one way to put it.

Tatta tilts his head, trying to read you. “Are you worried? Because if they give you crap or anything, I—”

“No, I can handle them,” you interrupt, squeezing his hand. “I’m not worried. Let them talk.” And you realize you mean it. Let them talk, let Niragi tease—what do you care? For once, you’re doing something that feels right for you, not just maintaining a reputation or image.

In a burst of boldness, you pull Tatta in by the hand and plant a swift kiss on his lips, right there in front of God and the diner and any nosy passersby. It’s a claiming sort of kiss, playful and confident. When you pull back, Tatta looks pleasantly dazed.

“Wow,” he says, blinking. Then a slow grin. “I could get used to that.”

You chuckle, feeling a little giddy. “Come on, loverboy. Walk me home?”

“Gladly, girlfriend,” he replies, clearly savoring the word as he tugs you close to his side.

You roll your eyes at his cheesiness, but can’t stop smiling. “Don’t push it,” you warn lightly, though you lean into him as you start walking.

He just laughs and slides an arm around you, and it feels natural to wrap yours around his waist in return.

As the two of you head down the street together, you catch your reflection in a shop window: you, looking happier and more at ease than you have in a long time, and Tatta beside you with that endless optimism practically radiating off him. It’s oddly perfect, in its own imperfect way.

Who would’ve thought? What started as a mean little dare—one drunk night of supposed no-strings fun—has you now actually holding hands in broad daylight with a guy you genuinely like.

Life is funny. And sometimes, it takes a sweet, oblivious, golden-hearted dork like Tatta to show a girl like you that maybe, just maybe, wearing the “girlfriend” label isn’t the end of the world. In fact, it might just be the best decision you never meant to make.

With a playful sigh, you rest your head against his shoulder as you walk. “I hate to admit it,” you murmur, smile tugging at your lips, “but I’m really glad I picked you, Tatta.”

He tilts his head down, surprised by your candid admission, and his smile he gives you in return is soft and a little stunned. He presses a kiss to the top of your head—gentle, adoring. “Me too,” he whispers. “Luckiest guy ever.”

You snort. If only he knew the half of it. But maybe he doesn’t need to. You have something real here, unexpectedly. No need to spoil it.

Closing your eyes for a moment, you allow yourself to bask in the simple sweetness of walking with him, enjoying how right it feels. Yeah, you’ll deal with the teasing and the questions from your friends later. For now, you’re content.

After all, what started as a one-night stand has somehow become the start of something wonderful—and this time, you’re not fighting it. Not one bit.

[chupenguin]

Alice in Borderland give us both sides

Some of the characters survive out of will and wanting to keep living

But sometimes the will is not enough, you need luck and time and good chances Sometimes wanting doesn't mean getting it

And that's Tatta whole arc, expect, in the end he managed to at least make someone happy

He wanted to live, he wanted to live so badly that the heartbreaking thing is that that wasn't enough

In the same way Aguni is his opposite, someone who craved dead and got to stay alive

"The characters survived because they had the will and determination to live! Tatta didn't!"

What an insult to Tatta's entire character and story arc, fuck you. Is this the face and speech of a man who had no will or determination to live????

Extremely insulting to say that Tatta didn't want to live. Tatta didn't drop out of school to earn money for his mother just for you all to say he had no will to live and I partly blame thw show for fucking up his backstory and making him seem so incompetent.

Literally one of the best story beats in the manga and all it has led to is people saying dumb shit to excuse the show's bad writing.

[kvany]

The shit tatta was pulling every time niragi spoke

[chupenguin]

Alice in Borderland memes becaue I don't want to work on my tesis

[daniwrld]

Can you maybe write some tatta hc's?? Fluff pls!! I never see anyyy😭

𝙤𝙛𝙘 𝙞'𝙡𝙡 𝙬𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙘𝙪𝙩𝙞𝙚 𝙞 𝙡𝙪𝙫 𝙩𝙖𝙩𝙩𝙖 𝙨𝙢 𝙝𝙚'𝙨 𝙨𝙤 𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙘𝙪𝙩𝙚 𝙨𝙟𝙜𝙨𝙝𝙨𝙜 ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎

🅦︎🅐︎🅡︎🅝︎🅘︎🅝︎🅖︎🅢︎: ɴᴏɴᴇ!

🅣︎🅨︎🅟︎🅔︎: sғᴡ, ғʟᴜғғ!

𝙬𝙚𝙗𝙨𝙞𝙩𝙚+𝙥𝙝𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙡𝙖𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙨𝙤 𝙨𝙤𝙧𝙧𝙮 𝙞𝙛 𝙞𝙩 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠𝙨 𝙗𝙖𝙙/𝙬𝙚𝙞𝙧𝙙 :,(

PRE BORDERLAND AU:

𝗈𝗄𝗈𝗄, 𝗂 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝗍𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖺 𝖺𝗌 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗐𝗁𝗈 (𝖻𝖼 𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗌 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝗌.) 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖻 𝖼𝗈𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖼𝗍 𝗁𝗈𝗍 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝖺 𝖼𝗈𝗈𝗅 𝖼𝖺𝗌𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆!

𝗂 𝖺𝗅𝗌𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗋 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗆 <33 (𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗂𝗆𝖺𝗀𝗂𝗇𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝗏 𝖼𝖺𝗋 𝗍𝗒𝗉𝖾𝗌 𝗌𝗃𝗌𝗁𝗌𝗌𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝗌𝗈𝗈𝗈 𝖼𝗎𝗍𝖾.)

𝖨𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝗈 𝖼𝖺𝗋 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗉𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝖺𝗇 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝖨𝖭𝖲𝖨𝖲𝖳 𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁, 𝗈𝗋 𝗂𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗋𝖾����𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗈𝖿𝖿𝖾𝗋 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒 (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞

𝖡𝖨𝖦 𝖡𝖨𝖦 𝖡𝖨𝖦𝖦𝖦 𝗈𝗇 𝗉𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗌𝖾. 𝗂'𝗆 𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎, 𝖻𝖼 𝗁𝖾'𝗌 𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝗑𝗂𝗈𝗎𝗌 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝖾'𝖽 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽 𝗌𝗆 𝗉𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗌𝖾.

'𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗂𝖽 𝗌𝗈 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽', '𝗂'𝗆 𝗌𝗈 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗎𝖽 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎', '𝗂 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗈 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁', '𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗅𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝖾', '𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗈 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾', '𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗂𝖽 𝗌𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝖺 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝗃𝗈𝖻!'

𝖧𝖾𝗌 𝖺 𝖲𝖴𝖢𝖪𝖤𝖱 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝖺𝖿𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗍'𝗌 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖻 𝗁𝗂𝗌 #1 𝖺𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝗋 𝖺𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗎𝖺𝗀𝖾𝗌 𝗀𝗈. 𝖧𝖾'𝗌 𝖺𝗇 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄𝖾𝗋 :,(

𝗂𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝗑𝗂𝗈𝗎𝗌 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗈𝗇, 𝗁𝖾'𝖽 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝖺𝗌𝗌𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗀𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝖺𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗉𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗌𝖾. (𝖤𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗂𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗍, 𝗂 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽. 𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖠𝖭𝖣 𝗋𝖾𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀.)

𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗌 𝗉𝗁𝗒𝗌𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗅 𝗍𝗈𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌 (𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗌 𝗉𝗋𝖾 𝖻𝗈𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌... 𝖽𝗐... 𝖫𝖬𝖠𝖮)

𝖫𝖮𝖵𝖤𝖤𝖤𝖤𝖤𝖤 𝖧𝖮𝖫𝖣𝖨𝖭𝖦 𝖸𝖮𝖴𝖱 𝖶𝖠𝖨𝖲𝖳.

(𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽-𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀) 𝗂 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝗉𝗂𝖼𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖺𝗇𝗑𝗂𝗈𝗎𝗌𝗅𝗒 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗊𝗎𝖾𝖾𝗓𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖾𝗂𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗀𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗆𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿/𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖻𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝗑𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎.

𝖣𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗌: 𝗂 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗀𝗈 𝖠𝖫𝖫 𝖮𝖴𝖳. 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖻 𝗁𝖺𝗌 '𝖽𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍' 𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝖾𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗄, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗈𝗎𝗍.

𝖯𝖨𝖢𝖭𝖨𝖢 𝖣𝖠𝖳𝖤𝖲!!!)!)!!), 𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗇𝖾𝗋 𝖽𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗌, 𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗄𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗄, 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗉𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖽𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗌, 𝖼𝖺𝗋 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 (𝖻𝗋𝗈 𝗁𝖾 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎. ♡´･ᴗ･`♡)

𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗏-𝖽𝖺𝗒, 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝖥𝖫𝖮𝖶𝖤𝖱𝖲, 𝖢𝖧𝖮𝖢𝖮𝖫𝖠𝖳𝖤, 𝖻𝗋𝗈 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝖽. 𝖧𝖾'𝗌 𝗌𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝖺 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝗒 (=^･ｪ･^=)

𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾𝗌 𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗀𝗂𝖿𝗍𝗌, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖻 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝖽𝗂𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗅𝗒. 𝖫𝗂𝗄𝖾𝖾𝖾 𝗂 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝗉𝗂𝖼𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 ��𝗍 𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗍 𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗋𝖾/𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 '𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝖼𝗈𝗈𝗅!' 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍'𝗌 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝗂𝗀𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝗂𝗍.

𝖳𝖻𝗁 𝗂 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖫𝖮𝖵𝖨𝖭𝖦 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝖽𝖺 𝖼𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗒 𝗇𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾. 𝗂 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝗁𝖾'𝖽 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗒𝗈𝗎 '𝖻𝖺𝖻𝖾', '𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗒 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅/𝖻𝗈𝗒', '𝗆𝗒 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾', '𝗁𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗒', 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗂 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝗁𝖾'𝗌 𝖣𝖮𝖶𝖭 𝖡𝖠𝖣

𝖨𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗆 '𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗍𝗒 𝖻𝗈𝗒' 𝗈𝗋 '𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗍 𝖻𝗈𝗒' 𝗂 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝖿𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗄 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗂𝗍 𝗌𝗆 (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞ 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍, 𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗁𝗂𝗆 '𝖻𝖺𝖻𝖾' 𝗈𝗋 '𝗁𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗒'

𝗂𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝗎𝗒𝗌 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾, 𝗁𝖾'𝖽 𝗍𝖾𝗑𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 24/7. 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝖾'𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝖿 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗒 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝖽 𝗌𝗈 𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾.

𝖣𝖾𝖿 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖾𝗌 𝗏𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗈𝗌/𝗌𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖾𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗍𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗈𝗇 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝖺𝗏𝖾𝗌 𝗂𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗀𝖺𝗓𝗂𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗉𝗂𝖼𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎.

𝗌𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺 𝖻𝗎𝗇𝖼𝗁 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗂𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗄𝗌 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 '𝗎𝗌' 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 (𝗈𝗆𝗀 𝗀𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝖾 𝗋𝗇 𝗁𝖾'𝗌 𝗌𝗈 𝖼𝗎𝗍𝖾 𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗁𝗌𝗁𝗀𝖽𝗀<333)

𝖨𝖿 𝗒'𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾, 𝗂 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝗁𝖾'𝖽 𝗌𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖾𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎+𝗌𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗂𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗄𝗌.

𝖢𝗎𝖽𝖽𝗅𝖾 𝖼𝗎𝖽𝖽𝗅𝖾 𝖼𝗎𝖽𝖽𝗅𝖾, 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍'𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗂'𝗆 𝗀𝗈𝗇𝗇𝖺 𝗌𝖺𝗒.

𝖽𝖾𝖿 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗍 𝗍𝖾𝗑𝗍𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌: '𝖽𝗂𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗁𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝖿𝖾?', '𝗍𝖾𝗑𝗍 𝗆𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎'𝗋𝖾 𝗁𝗈𝗆𝖾', '𝖻𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝖿𝖾 𝖽𝗋𝗂𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀!', '𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗋𝗀𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗉𝗁𝗈𝗇𝖾!'

𝖧𝖾 𝖶𝖮𝖱𝖱𝖨𝖤𝖲 𝖦𝖴𝖸𝖲𝖲𝖲𝖲 𝗉𝗅𝗌 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗁𝗈𝗆𝖾, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗏𝖾, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎'𝗋𝖾 𝗈𝗄𝖺𝗒 (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞

𝗋𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗈𝗆, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗂 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖽𝗋𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎. 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗂𝗆𝖺𝗀𝗂𝗇𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗇𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗌 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇, 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍 𝗆𝗎𝗌𝗂𝖼, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗐𝗈 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖽𝗋𝗂𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗒 𝖼𝗂𝗍𝗒.

𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖾𝗌 𝗉𝗂𝖼𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗂𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝗎𝗒𝗌 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋.

𝖶𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 100% 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗈 𝗉𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗒 𝖿𝗅𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗈𝖺𝖽 <33

𝗂 𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗄𝖾𝗒 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗒 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗋 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝖺𝗒 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝖺𝗉 𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 ♡´･ᴗ･`♡

𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩𝙨 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙗𝙘 𝙞𝙩𝙨 3:37 𝙖𝙢 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙞𝙢 𝙨𝙪𝙪𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙚𝙚𝙧𝙧 𝙨𝙡𝙚𝙚𝙥𝙮. 𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙠 𝙪 𝙙𝙢 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜!!! 𝙞 𝙡𝙪𝙫𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙧𝙚𝙦 𝙗𝙘 𝙞 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙩𝙖𝙩𝙩𝙖 𝙚𝙞𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧.. 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙢𝙮 𝙛𝙖𝙫 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙨 ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎( ˘ ³˘)♥︎

[myraniellejkelly]

Giving your hand to AIB boys and see what their reaction part 1

Author’s note: Got this idea from tiktok lol

This work includes: All images belong to their respected owners, grammar issues, headcanons, and fluff.

Part 2

══════⊹⊱≼≽⊰⊹══════

Ryohei Arisu

You were bored at your room while your boyfriend was playing his video games, so you walked into his room while Arisu was too focused on that aspect of progressing game into a victory. Then he noticed you and pause his game, removing his gaming headphones when you gave your hand to him.

At first, he would be very confuse with a big blank stare and he questions why you’re taking your hand out to him. He tilted his head with confusion, like a little puppy as he stares at you.

For a moment, Arisu just caressed your hand with his thumb, then held your guys’ hands together and he sigh. Afterwards, he considered you joining into his game when you sat beside him, then Arisu grab one of his extra controllers and give it to you so that you can play with him.

══════⊹⊱≼≽⊰⊹══════

Daikichi Karube

When you showed up at his bar, sitting down at the stool while your boyfriend was cleaning the bar table. You were smiling at him to which he adore you so much, he asked of you what drink do you want?

Then he gave your favourite alcohol beverages as you rest your chin on your palm, watching him continue cleaning the bar table and when you wave your hand to Karube and let your hand.

He would be so gentle with you into touching one of your fingers, then slowly held one of your guy’s hands together as he squeeze for a moment, just a gentleman treating his lover.

Then Karube would kissing your knuckles then to your palm, and locked eyes with such gentle intimacy to you as he smiles telling you I love you.

══════⊹⊱≼≽⊰⊹══════

Segawa Chōta

Your boyfriend was talking to one of his friends, then you came into him as he was waving at you with a big smile.

Chota was looking at you and telling you how are you, just to check on you and showing he really cares about you.

At first when you took your hand out to him, he would be confused then normally high-five so awkwardly or so doing one of your guys’ couple high-fives. But if you attempt to still had your hand out then he would be very confused, just to look at you in the eyes and putting down your hand.

He would kissed your forehead and boop your nose instead, he would laughed at the sight of you and you were a little mad, but you loved him anyways.

══════⊹⊱≼≽⊰⊹══════

Kōdai Tatta

While you were helping out with your boyfriend, repairing up the car as he underneath the car and asked you to grabbed the tools he was asking.

You pick up the tools for him like the wretch and screw driver, then at that moment when he still asked you. You take your hand out without tools that he was asking of, just your hand without anything holding.

As Tatta felt the softness from your palm then to your fingertips, while his hand was oiled up and dirty as he asked you where’s the tool that he was asking. So, he moved the cart and get up as he wipe off his face, looking at you in confused while staring at your hand.

He glances at you and questions about handing your hand to him, then suddenly he would held your hand and laughs but still is confused.

Tatta puts your hand towards his dirty face, looking at you like a little raccoon grabbing your affectionate attention to him. He just laughs and smiles at you.

══════⊹⊱≼≽⊰⊹══════

Shuntaro Chishiya

I would say when you were trying to bring your boyfriend’s attention. He would flee away when you were trying to give your hand, just to see his reaction.

Consider that he may have ignore your silly gestures, Chishiya just knew what you’re doing and probably pretend in not knowing it.

No matter how long are you going to attempt to bring his attention, yet you failed but you were so determined to do it everyday.

So every time you approach to him: at the kitchen cooking your meal, busy talking on the phone with Kuina, too busy working at the hospital but had a break time lunch with you, or at the living room sitting down on the couch with his laptop while he was working.

Chishiya just likes to see how long are you gonna tired out of your silly little games. That every time you tried to see his reaction, it always backfires and you would be infuriated.

For a moment, after seeing your reaction as you were walking away, he always thought to himself on where’s the determined lover, who tried to bring his attention in given by their hand? And he would quietly laughed as he was teasing you for so long.

After ignoring your attempts, Chishiya just comes forward to you as he sat beside you in the couch, then grab your hand and kiss it as he hold your hands together into his. But you pout at him as he laughs, kissing you on the cheek, and apologizes while caressing your hand.

══════⊹⊱≼≽⊰⊹══════

Keiichi Kuzuryū

When Kuzuryū was back from work and you kissed him in the lips, he removed his tie as he came to sat down in the dinning room.

Since you make dinner for tonight as he was eating the meal that you just made, he looked at you and tells your day and how has it been. Kuzuryū hadn’t been spending his time with you, and that he’s been too busy at work all the time.

You think of something coming from your mind as you get off the chair, then you approach to him. At first, Kuzuryū was lifting his eyebrows at you and asked you what are you doing? And that you shouldn’t be finishing your meal.

From you giving your hand out to him, you were smiling at him. But he just stares at you and to your hand that’s in front of him. He was resting his head on to his knuckles, then he gives a stare at you in silence as if he was likely uncertain of what were you trying to do.

Your boyfriend heavily sigh as he clean his lenses for a moment, then he look at you as he slowly held your hand together. Looking at your hand as his gaze softened and slowly smiles at you, he truly missed you so much that he pulled you into his lap. You were surprise as he was wrapping you by the waist, holding on to your hands as he kissed your cheek then to your knuckles. You laughed in clinging your hands around him and hugged him, he hugged you back and tells you that he misses you so much after work.

[finch-like-the-bird]

It has occurred to me that all I've done is complain about aib recently so. here are text posts bc I swear I feel positive emotions guys

I'm so normal about aib guys I really am

Part 2

[xuzuul]

[k1mbe3rly]

can you please do Tatta twitter links?

Tatta twitter links

tied him up to a chair

jerking him before he goes to work

you won’t stop and he’s getting whiny

enjoys eating you out

sending you a video at work

riding him but he’s begging you to stop and go slow

valentine’s day special

topping you for the first time

[altvia]

guess who finished alice in borderland (i’m crying)

[belvederearsenic]

Alice in Borderland 2 || Headlines Part 16

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15]

[cat0707]

AIB revival happening rn I better see some fics coming out

[onceinablueberrymoon]

sleepy mornings | alice in borderland x gn!reader

shorts that are pure fluff :)  characters: banda sunato, chishiya shuntarō, niragi suguru, segawa chōta, tatta kōdai warnings: self-esteem issues (tatta); gn!reader; second person POV; no use of y/n borders by @kodaswrld! squid game version

✧ banda sunato 

when he opened his eyes, he was surprised to find you next to him. 

you had known of his past — that he killed four women and went to prison for his crime. no one trusted him, and for good reason.

and yet, you were still here, cuddled into his side, fast asleep. you had let down your guard around him, and he wasn’t sure how to feel about that. 

he could have easily discarded you or let you die in a game. but in the couple weeks since you’ve met, he’s felt drawn to you in some way he couldn't explain. 

you had been useful for gaining others’ trust, he supposed. not that he needed it. he could survive alone, just as he always had.

but for now, he was content with having you around. 

he looked towards the window. it was still dark outside, too early to get up. 

he settled back into the mattress, drawing you closer to him. he closed his eyes once more. 

a small part of him hoped that you would still be there when he woke up.

✧ chishiya shuntarō

you were woken by the rays of sunlight that cracked through the blinds. 

the first thing you noticed was the absence of your allies, save for chishiya, who seemed to be sleeping. the blond was resting against a nearby wall.

even though you had been allies for a while now, you had never seen him so peaceful – his head was leaning against the wall and his chest rose and fell in time with his breathing. 

when he was awake, chishiya appeared cold and distant. he was usually deep in thought, observing everyone and everything around him. 

but now, with his face relaxed, he seemed at peace. innocent, even.

as the sun rays moved across the room, they bathed him in golden light. 

a small gasp escaped your lips. he looked ethereal. 

“finally awake?” he spoke out of the blue, eyes still closed.

you averted your gaze, staring down at the ground. you heard him exhale, almost as if he were amused.

“let’s go. the others have gone to find supplies.” he stood up, shielding his eyes from the sun.

“were you awake this whole time?” you asked as you gathered your belongings.

he glanced back at you before leaving the room.

“maybe.”

✧ niragi suguru

you woke up first, like usual. 

niragi wasn’t a morning person, really. 

when he was asleep, he looked like a totally different person — his face was relaxed, his eyes fluttering as he dreamed. he was sprawled out, his body taking up most of the bed. 

you liked him like this, when he let his guard down. 

you brushed a strand of hair from his face. he looks so peaceful, you thought. nothing like the brash, boasting personality that threatened to kill everyone if they so much as looked his way. 

others at the beach never understood why you willingly hung out with niragi, and to be honest, you didn’t really know yourself. 

he treated you like trash when you first met. but something drew you to him. over time, he had warmed up to you. 

and now? he acted as your protector at the Beach. 

which brings us to your current situation – your fingers running through his hair as you gazed at his sleeping form. 

while you couldn’t wait to return to your world, a small part of you wanted to stay here with him. even if just for a little bit longer.

✧ segawa chōta: 

maybe his mother’s prayers really did come true. that was one explanation for why you were still by his side. 

for years, he had been teased by everyone for his inexperience with relationships. but you wove yourself into his life seamlessly, easily befriending arisu and karube to his delight. 

now, as you laid next to him on his bed, he gazed at you fondly. you were the apple of his eye, and he was so grateful to have you in his life. 

you must have noticed him staring at you, because you soon blinked your eyes awake. 

“i didn’t mean to wake you,” he said. “i was just thinking about how lucky I am.” 

you gave him a sleepy smile before your eyes fluttered closed again. 

he chuckled, drawing you close and kissing the top of your head.

✧ tatta kōdai: 

it’s been a long time since he’s woken up feeling so well-rested. like many others, he had had trouble sleeping ever since arriving in the borderlands.

but since he met you, he felt more calm, more sure of himself. you were kind to everyone, even in this dog-eat-dog world. 

most importantly, you were the first person that didn’t think he was a good-for-nothing.

you were asleep beside him, your face slightly scratched from the previous night’s game. you had brushed it off, but tatta blamed himself for not shielding you in time.

still, you looked so peaceful. he didn’t think he deserved someone like you, but you reassured him every time. 

he grazed his finger over your cheek, jolting back when you winced. he hadn’t meant to wake you. 

“it’s okay,” you said sleepily. “i know you would never hurt me on purpose.”

he moved closer to you and wrapped an arm around your waist. you snuggled into his chest.

“love you,” you said as you fell back asleep. 

a small smile tugged at his lips. he rested his head on yours and closed his eyes.

“love you too.”

[restlessn1ghts]

⋆˚awkward chishiya x fem!reader hcs˚⋆

warnings: fluff

disclaimer: just added a mini story at the end for fun, also this is my first fic so ill take criticism ^o^

————————————౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪—————————————

- hes not the romantic type so when he caught himself frantically looking round the poolside at the beach for you to make sure you made it out the game safe, he thought it was only him making sure one of his alliances wont make his plan fail

-when you brought him some cookies from looking around the hotel with Tatta, he kept them on his bedside table for weeks and claimed he just was never hungry.

-liar!!

- Kuina had a sneaking suspicion that he liked you, but never brought it up as she knew how defensive he got about it

-when you and chishiya were put in solitary confinement game together, he would ask you for his symbol and then when it was your turn to ask him what was yours, he moved your hair out the way for you and told you, but when you turned back around, there was a tiny bit of pink in his cheeks.

-whenever youre near Niragi or someone with a gun he stands slightly infront of you and claims he needs to get a better look at what was happening

-he wasnt a party guy either, so when he was offered to go down to the beach’s club by kuina, he denied… until you wrapped your arm around kuinas ready to leave for the party in your new cute bikini, he says “i guess ill keep a look out incase Niragi and the militants are planning something” (they werent)

-when you, kuina and chishiya were talking about your plan to steal the cards, he says about the code being 8022 in the safe behind the deer painting in hatters room, and you say about how smart he is, he blushes and blames it on the heat in the room.

-he hates physical touch but cant help but wish youd brush his hand or his shoulder again

-he stares like nobodys buisness at you but when you look he quickly looks away and acts as if nothing happened

Mini story about the cookies you gave him below !!

The long hallways of the beach seemed haunting, but as soon as you had made alot of close friends like chishiya, kuina, tatta and usagi, you felt safe at the beach, and found comfort now instead of anxiety. Tatta had offered before to you about helping Ann as had said she needed more scalpels for dissecting and the time had come where you and Tatta are roaming the same homely hallways.

You opened the door to the storage room and entered with Tatta, the smell of old dusty wood filling your nostrils as you closely look in shelves and cupboards for the scalpels.

As you reach your hand in a cupboard you hear a crinkling paper sound and find some cookies in a white paper bag. Your mind instantly goes to Chishiya, so you stuff it in your pocket and suddenly Tatta exclaims of finding the scalpels.

You and Tatta split up for your different destinations, his being a basement, and yours being a hotel room.

Alas you stand infront room 201 and you knock gently and hear nothing.

‘hm is he out? Ill just drop the cookies off onto his desk’

You open the door and step in to find a slightly messy room and as you walk towards the desk, you hear a strange noise, you turn around to find chishiya snoring in bed. You cant help but be in awe at his vulnerable and sweet position and you leave the white cookie packet on his bedside table, and you made sure to leave a cute heart sticker and write

‘from y/n, to sleepyhead :0’

——-

He awakes to find the small packet and he holds it in his hand and reads what youve written and his cheeks flush in embarassment to have been sleeping. He opens the bag to find the cookies and his heart beats a beat quicker to the fact you thought of him.

[chupenguin]

I made more

[dovepaw3000]

Do you ever read a fanfic that just rewrites a character so well and beautifully that you genuinely start caring and loving a character that you originally despised?

And now when you see the character in normal context you have to remember that they are absolutely horrible and irredeemable and you get the biggest whiplash?

Yes I'm talking about MalaMari's characterization of Niragi from their fic Cat's eyes.

It was so nice that I could forget that he was the absolute worst for a while. And gay. I can't believe this fic also accidentally created the Tatta x Niragi ship as well. Imagine having that much power. Really though, if ya want an amazing rewrite and if ya don't mind Chirisu being the main ship I highly recommend it. It's rotating in my brain and it won't leave and I wish I had someone to yap about it with.