#and I have always found the names so confusing

[michaelawinter]

Andre Nikto head canons

We have little information about Niko but here's what I've gathered..

((Also I'd like to kindly add, hi, hello, my name is Mika and I am a Bosnian. The chances of me adding some accurate slav head canons are always high but never low!!🙏🏻 ALSO IM TERRIBLY OBSESSED WITH NIKTO SO IF ENJOY THIS AND YOU WANT DATING NIKTO HEAD CANONS PLEASE LET ME KNOWWW))

Genuine head canons:

Andre Nikto (Никто) is a (scary) Russian military man, roughly 193/194 centimetres (when you compare him to Simon's height) He suffers with acute dissociative disorder (better said DID) yet is still serving the military cause of how he preforms during battle.., so the military still views him as a ideal soldier for combat despite his disorder..

No hate but from what I've seen in some art works claiming it's his "face reveal" you people have to understand that under his mask, his face is disfigured.. so, no he won't be an attractive super model under that mask of his..

I don't think you people are aware how badass Nikto is as a character, almost SIMILAR as Ghost who's in the military for the same reason as everybody else, to risk their life.

Although judging by Nikto's voice lines, he doesn't care who he's killing..if it were up to him, if his teammates serve him zero purpose he'd care less if they die..(after all, you're just a target..) but being a professional, he can't allow that to happen to his teammates

If you look up closely, Nikto wears a military uniform that is different from everyone else with MP-0 written on it. Now if you don't know, MP stands for Military Police (enforcement agencies connected with, or part of, the military of a state.) and zero next to it meaning "nothing" and this is important which is what Nikto refers himself as..

Yeah so about that..

I have a theory about Nikto's nickname

After being captured and brutally tortured with whatever sick tendency mister Z had in store for him. It was Mister Z that couldn't really get much Information about Andre.

They would start torturing him while repeating to Andre that he's nothing, he's no one, what he is is nothing but what he is is everything. Those words play in the back of his head and they never seen to go away.

(This is extremely relevant cause Mister Z tried to get to know a bit of Andre by looking through some research come to find his citizenship and language are censored making him a nobody. Keep in mind, if he found any information about Andre viewing from personal life etc. it will be used as blackmail..)

After recovering his scars and taken to therapy after 7 years he was diagnosed with DID

NOW moving on to the DID part

(What I said about the fact that people overlook Nikto's disorder, I mean it..

Some don't really write about his disorder which is fine but when someone does it gets messy. )

Alters aren't easy to deal with, it's actually gonna haunt you till the day that you die cause there's no cure for it. And in Nikto's case it's from PTSD and Nikto is very aware of his alters..

Let me tell you how Nikto's disorder affects him. Switching can be consensual, forced or triggered, Nikto values silence as much as the next person cause he's dealing with much inside his head already. The kind of guy that would "watch TV" while dissociating with a 100 yard glare with very slow blinking and a slight headache..

There are times where his personalities would correct him when hes referring to himself (example: I'm up..(his personality correctes him) WE'RE up..)

"He made us do this" (and other voice lines I can't recall..)

Maybe cut bits of an apple with a knife and eat it while watching TV..

He has medication prescribed for him but he didn't wanna depend on medications cause they're just drugs..they're nothing to him but just drugs..

He has dissociative amnesia too, sometimes he would wander around confused maybe even annoyed. The amnesia appears to be caused by traumatic or stressful experiences endured or witnessed..Although the forgotten information may be inaccessible to consciousness, it sometimes continues to influence behavior

Like I said he likes quiet people, someone who doesn't waste their air on small talk..

Example; don't really talk to him about the weather, unless you have something interesting to say but if the conversation is gonna go nowhere , don't talk..he finds that a waste of time

People assume just because he's Russian that he likes vodka, he doesn't like vodka...-He doesn't like any alcoholic beverage cause it makes his problems a lot worse,...maybe If you were lending him some as an offering, he'll take it but he has SOME self control, he's okay with coffee, though..

It's relevant cause he stays awake at late hours since he finds it difficult to sleep, he'll stay up late with no music, nothing, just a silent room. It doesn't matter if he tries the military tactic where you just close your eyes and turn off your thoughts, it's very different when you have voices screaming inside your head...

Despite everything he's still intelligent, so being smart + strength + sharp reflexes and you got yourself a criminal

Death doesn't phase him, but to him death is like sleeping, he's not scared of death considering that he's been through hell those past few months.

He likes the simple things, don't complicate anything..because he's quick with catching an attitude..be blunt and forward and stumble over your words..

Nikto shows confidence in the battlefield,just like König, except he has a high rush of adrenaline and will laugh at the enemies death.

Fun fact: in this one comic Price calls Nikto "psycho"

And it's without a doubt that he is one.., a sadistic, sociopathic, psychopath

After splitting, his alters can and will get more aggressive and do more harm and damage to others cause they're doing the most at protecting the host.. (depending on the alter, some wanna protect him while some wanna hurt him)

Oh by the way about the intelligence part, I mean he has a good good memory with remembering faces..

He doesn't like people looking at him funny, he'll get angry really fast and annoyed at the same time.., he won't show hesitation when it comes to approaching you and asking you what are you looking at (it's like trying to avoid eye contact with a homeless man Infront of a store, that's how scared you would be)

He's slow with jokes or any form of humor that you throw at him??? You'll be excited to tell him a joke, and when you do he just looks at you and tells you never to do that again..,or just straight up tell you he doesn't get it...??? and probably trying to explain it either he gets it or not he'll still tell you that it's not funny

He doesn't argue, or he does? Arguing with him will costs you avoiding getting objects thrown at you so you can get out of his sight..tragic, now you have a teammate that hates your guts and won't apologize for it.

[neptunesgrl]

Things that my redacted favs do that are true because I said so

SWEETHEART, LASKO, GUY

SWEETHEART:

- Calls Milo angel in private, had a couple drinks and it ended up slipping out in front of the pack. David looked very confused for the rest of the night and proceeded to call SH in the middle of the night to say “what do you know”, “what did they (Angel) tell you”, etc. Angel found it incredibly amusing.

- Drinks scotch. Rarely, since it makes Milo uncomfortable. They had it in their apartment once and after they’d learned of his father’s struggle with it, they made sure to keep it out of sight when he came over. Hasn’t bought a bottle since they moved in.

- Reverse pick-pockets everyone. Hates when people make a big deal out of apologies or big emotional things. Their way to avoid it is to make silent apologies. Often but not limited to leaving a couple hundreds in their wallet, cause we all know SH makes bank.

- Nicknames for Milo include: Mi, angel (as previously mentioned), hun/honey, babe.

- Takes the NYT crossword incredibly seriously and looks forward to it more than they’d like to admit

- Raised in New England. Hopes to move back if they decide to have kids, that is until they gain their powers, and need to move back to Dahlia.

Side note: Their child listening to ‘California’ by Chappell Roan on full blast in their room and giving SH war flashbacks

- Has gained a slight NJ/NY accent from Milo. Slips out when they get mad. Specifically with the words: ‘jackass’, ‘told her (so i told ha)’, ‘off (awf)’, ‘call (just cawl me)’, etc.

LASKO:

- Constantly holding Dear’s hand. At first, it was difficult for him to initiate, but once he realized it was the least embarrassing thing he could ask for, it became habit. Sometimes Dear slides their thumb to his wrist to check his pulse when he’s nervous.

- (UNEMPOWERED AU) Dear is an EMT. Sirens used to startle and disturb Lasko, now he finds comfort in knowing Dear is getting to save people (corny and tooth rotting fluff ik)

- Once, Lasko wore Dear’s fleece that went with their uniform since they’d left it at his place and it was too cold to go out without one. It took him 10 minutes of pacing at the front door to go outside and grab the food he ordered. Just in case someone on the 2 second walk down there would need medical attention and thought he could help since he’d be wearing the EMT jacket.

- He owns every single PJO book and shamelessly reads them at least once a year. He’s in the Zeus cabin (obviously). Grover’s his favorite, because in his words, “he’s the only one worried about the logistics.”

- ‘Guilty as Sin?’ is THEIR SONG. I will not be taking any criticisms at this time or ever. It’s just the lyrics about feeling guilty for thinking about the other in that way. Like are you kidding me. ‘I’ve screamed his name, building up like waves’ DEAR WE KNOW ITS YOU IN THE WRITERS ROOM.

GUY:

(these are mostly fem leaning i am so sorry)

- Watched The Real Housewives. Insists Jersey is peak, Honey agrees. They take the finales very seriously. Honeys favorite is Margaret, Guys favorite is Melissa. He insists Honey and him are exactly like Joe and Melissa. I have RHONJ brainrot save me.

- Uses a sleep eye mask from dollar tree that says ‘nap queen’ on it. Found it in Honeys childhood bedroom.

- Raised in NYC (Brooklyn), insists he knows how to use the subway and always gets lost. Honey cracked the code within 2 days.

- Had headgear in high school. No further explanation. That’s it. That’s the HC.

- Child of…

🥁

🥁

🥁

dddiiivvvooorrrccceee!!!! i’m projecting He is so Chandler Bing coded don’t lie.

- Somewhere down the line, he’d like to write a book about him and Honey. Whether they work out or not. Very “You were a wonderful experience” / “You were…everything.” coded. Can you tell that not only am i awful at it, but I hate angst?

- Love letters EVERYWHERE. On dressers, in nightstand drawers, on the windshield of Honeys car, this man will find anywhere to put one of the many notes he has written gushing about his partner.

☕️📰🤍

This has been in my drafts for so long I feel emotional posting it. Please take good care of my baby.

[hotvintagepoll]

Jean Arthur (The Talk of the Town, Too Many Husbands)—It's Jean Arthur! She supposedly named herself after King Arthur and Joan of Arc so she's got that weird gender swag and her voice is often described as frog-like! She's kinda small yet always has the energy she could beat up any of the guys around her. In fact, in The Talk of the Town she attacks some cops with a wrench. Hot! Her vibes are so weird and I'm in love with her. Hope that helps.

Jack Lemmon (The Great Race, The Apartment, Some Like It Hot)—He's the everyman, he's clumsy, he's strange, in nearly every movie he finds himself in the oddest of circumstances because he's taken advantage of or because of... bad luck? You empathize with him, he's really a little guy. And yet... Why is he so hot? Why does he have this charm, this hidden fire, this weird kind of... elegance? You can't help but sense this magnetism he radiates. There is power in his charming eccentricity and clumsiness. He just really draws you in and you want to explore what it is that makes him so scrungly and so attractive at once.

This is round 1 of the contest. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. If you're confused on what a scrungle is, or any of the rules of the contest, click here.

[additional submitted propaganda + scrungly videos under the cut]

Jean Arthur:

wait wait wait come back i can justify this i promise!! yes. i know she is heaven on earth. her voice sings to the angels and croaks with the frogs. i am also aware she is a luminous blonde. however h a v e you considered the gospel that a fruity screwball blonde dame can, in fact, scrungle? in her own bizarre fashion? i present her entire filmography but also this clip as evidence. look at her little twinkle as she sics her two husbands against each other and loves every second of it.

in this one she starts disassociating because she's going to buy a dog.

Jack Lemmon:

his chemistry with judy holliday in their two movies together is ZOINKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! but i couldn't find any clips of that so watch him have mad chemistry with peter falk instead in my favorite campiest film of all time instead

His character in Glengary Glen Ross is literally the archetype Pathetic Guy. Even if you haven't seen this film I PROMISE you have seen iterations of Jack Lemmon's character from it. His character in Days of Wine and Roses will break your heart and show what an amazing range he has. [editor's note: I haven't seen either of these films so don't consider them recs from me. Also please keep your propaganda within the 1910-1970 range. tw for alcoholism in the clip below.]

[brokenheartsrecords]

track four: to break an engagement words: 0.8K tw: none taglist: @lxvebelle , @that-daughter-of-hephaestus find track three here note: not really my favourite piece of work, but it does set the scene

HAWTHORNE MANSION IS COLD AND uninviting. You’re going to marry into this house, this family, but it doesn’t look like it might be yours.

In your mind, you know that you can make the house look like yours, but you’re looking for reasons to not marry Grayson. It’s not that you don’t want to.

It’s just that you don’t know him.

He’s perfect in the limited societal events he chooses to attend; doesn’t drink more than one glass of any drink provided, his name never appearing in gossip sheets. There is nothing about him that could possibly be a valid enough reason to break off the engagement.

Unless he has a secret double life that might endanger your own life. 

You haven’t forgotten the voices you heard in the walls of your home, talking about your wedding to Lord Hawthorne, malicious sounding and rather creepy. 

You want to tell your mother about this, you really do. You would’ve done it, too, if she weren’t so excited that her daughter was getting married.

In the drawing room of Hawthorne House, Grayson sits beside you, careful not to let any part of his frame touch yours.

There was one problem about him.

He was too damn gentlemanly.

Skye and your mother are talking about the marriage banns and the engagement festivities on the other end of the room, pretending as though they really don’t care about anything that you and Grayson might talk about.

You should tell him that you hadn’t orchestrated this entire engagement, but he looks cold.

Just like the house.

You take a deep breath. You open our mouth.

And right at that moment, he leaps up, walking away from the seat like it burned him.

You’re confused, and you notice that Skye and your mother have stopped talking, instead choosing to look at Grayson.

He smiles, and it looks rather forced, and when he looks at you, his hand extended, you’re sure that he’d do anything to get out of this engagement.

“I was hoping if you’d like to take a go at the hedge mazes.” He begins. “You weren’t able to see much the last time you were here.”

Oh God, he absolutely hates you.

Still, you plaster a smile on your face and take his hand. “Of course, my Lord. Is it alright if we do so, Mama?”

“Oh, yes. I doubt Ms. Skye and I have any qualms about this. Do take a maid with you.”

You roll your eyes. “Sure, Mama.”

With a maid trailing five steps behind you, Grayson Hawthorne leads you into the maze, and your head supplies you with a mental image of him killing you when the maid is lost in the hedges,

You snort.

“Something funny, Madam?” He seems less on edge here in the maze. 

“Just… imagining,” you say.

“Imagining.”

“Hmm.”

Uncomfortable silence takes over the space the two of you stand in. 

“This is ridiculous.” You start. “You obviously do not want to marry me,” you untangle your elbow from his, “and I don’t want to marry you—and please do not take offense to that, Lord Hawthorne, I’m sure the two of us would rather wed people we know instead of people we do not.”

He looks surprised, and opens his mouth. You keep going on, not stopping at all.

“And the worst part is we can’t break the engagement or my honout will be lost, damn it all.”

“...you do not wish to marry me?” He asks, and if you didn’t know better, you’d think he was a bit offended.

“I don’t.” You confirm. 

He nods. “And you wish to break the engagement?”

“Yes.” 

He nods again. “As do I. Of course, it is not because of you—you do seem like a rather lovely person. I’ve just never felt the wish to marry.”

You grin. “Glad that this was sorted. Now, how are we going to break the engagement?”

Grayson smiles at you, one of those half smiles that you’ve always found attractive. “We drag society into this love affair.” He states, as though it was obvious. 

“Pardon?”

“Once they notice that you and I have no feelings towards each other, word will spread. It will reach my mother, and then yours. They, in turn, will be pressured by our delightful society to invalidate this marriage out of sympathy for you.”

“And if that doesn’t work?”

“We stage an extremely heated argument where you can scream falsehoods about me to my face and announce that you do not wish to marry me. Truthfully, this method is far more effective; but it would have me lose my dignity.”

The maid catches up behind you, and your elbow is intertwined with his again. “What do you say, my Lady? Are you ready to fool the proper English society?”

He looks straight in your eyes, and there’s a challenging glint in his. “When am I never?”

[rosedere]

The Antique Pearl (Ghost! Azul Ashengrotto x fem reader)

CW: Soft Yandere, NRC is a university AU, implied sex (later chapters), Mentions of Ghosts

Summary: You find a job along the large network of piers on Sage’s Island, but you didnt know you would catch the attention of a ghost who lives in your small Thrift shop you manage.

Cross posted on AO3 as well! :D

Chapters: 1. Job hunt (you are here), Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13,

-

“So (name) found a job yet?”

You scowled in response dropping your perfectly manicured brow in a scrunch before flipping your hand out at Ace across from you at the table.

"Hey, have you found a girlfriend yet?” You sarcastically replied.

“You answer first,” your fiery red-head friend said now smiling before letting his hand rest under his chin.

“I’m going to say no for my answer,” you answered, rolling your eyes. “And I’m going to assume it’s a no for you too,” you smirked.

"Oi, I’m just asking because no one’s called me back yet, and I’d rather die than work in the dining hall all semester with Ortho and Grim,” he said, swirling his spoon in his brightly colored sundae.

Ace Trappola was one of your five friends you talked to on a regular basis, mostly because you all attended the same prestigious college on Sage’s island, unintentionally forming the “freshman group” some people nicknamed in lectures, half of you at first werent friends with each other only sitting next to each other in the same classes you shared. 

But then the familiarity in the large university got everyone to begin to talk to one another. You being the oldest out of the group and the only "ma'am,” you practically kept the group knitted together.

You and Ace were the first two of the friends from your group to arrive at your usual hangout spot, a diner tucked away next to the docks and piers, with various boats lining the way.

Epel had said he and Jack were almost there, while Duece wasn’t going to arrive until later, after his interview wrapped up on the other side of the harbor. Sebek wasn’t here yet, but knowing him, he was probably still asleep and would come rushing in 20 minutes later, cursing Silver's name for not waking him up on time who was also most likely asleep against the headboard of their shared dorm.

"Well, it seems like we gotta do another walk around the pier today,” you declared to no one in particular.

Ace looked over at you with the shit-eating grin he always had when he had a remark in mind. Your face immediately forming a frown.

“Maybe they’ll take pity on us if you say you're a single mom,” Ace cheekily said.

“I know you were screwing around, but I think that might be my next sales pitch.” You sighed.

Defeated, you looked out the window, absentmindedly eating a crispy fry from the blue basket in front of the both of you.

However, before you could look out and daydream while watching the same ten seagulls glare at you from outside the rope-lined pier, a blur of green and blue passed your line of sight.

Confused about what you had just seen, you looked out the window towards the entrance of the diner to see on the otherside of the entrance Jack and Epel casually walking in, opposite from where the flash of green was charging at an immense speed.

Then you heard the crash.

Ace finally caught on to what just happened, but you were still trying to figure out how fast Deuce and Sebek were running to knock Jack completely over into a decorated potted plant near the entrance of the diner.

“I WON THAT ONE DEUCE; LOOK, MY FOOT IS OVER THE ENTRANCE THRESHOLD,” your green-haired friend huffed, scrambling to get up.

Deuce, however, was completely flustered, realizing he was sprawled over Epel, who looked at the two of them with a huff.

“Epel, are you okay?” Your beastman friend said aloud, pushing the loud green-haired boy off of him.

“Yeah, let’s just get inside before we have to pay for the damages,” Epel told the three of them, getting up.

The delightful shipyard bell above the door signaled the rest of your group's arrival.

Of course, looking over to Ace, you could tell he was already cooking up a fierce roast to throw at Deuce and Sebek as they quickly took their seats at the circular booth you and Ace were sitting at.

Feeling the violent shift in the red pleather curved booth from the weight of Jack and Sebek taking their seats first before Epel and Duece squeezed into their usual spots at the end of the booth, leaving you and Ace sitting together as usual.

“So what in the otome was up with that?” Ace teased 

“I’m pretty sure there was going to be an overlay of pink cherry blossoms over Epel and Jack, with a dialogue box popping up over that scene outside,” Ace giggled.

“I’d say you should ask those two; we were just walking when we got trampled.” Jack gestured towards Sebek and Deuce.

“He started it! I was just running from the heartslaybul dorm when Sebek started to run after me, charging me,” Duece wined before grabbing a fry from the basket and rubbing his elbows.

“I WAS SIMPLY TRYING TO CATCH UP TO YOU, BUT YOU KEPT RUNNING PAST ME,” Sebek said with his usual booming voice.

For a moment, you all bantered, catching up with each other since you had all been on break after the spring semester ended.

But with the summer semester starting up again, you all reunited last week on the mostly empty campus.

"Oh, right before we get too distracted, did anyone find a job yet?” You asked everyone around the table.

Everyone around the table sighed.

“No”

"Okay, I guess we can safely say what we’re going to do after lunch,” you sighed.

“TO BE FAIR, I HEARD FROM SILVER THAT THERE ARE JOBS OFF CAMPUS,” Sebek once again yelled to you all, causing Epel to cover his ear.

"Yeah, but not at the pier; I don’t want to work on a farm anymore,” Epel said, twirling his hair with a perfectly manicured nail. “Vil would never let me live that one down if he found out,” he sighed.

Just as soon as all of your banter began, it silenced once the waitress came around to get everyone’s order before retreating back to the kitchen.

"Well, I mean, there’s still 14 more days until our deadline; who knows, maybe there might be more jobs today,” you enthusiastically announced, trying to motivate your friends.

They all still remained unmotivated, however, until Duece spoke up.

"Yeah, that is true (name). The summer carnival is coming up soon, around the middle of the month. We can get guaranteed jobs then." Duece then proceeded to reach towards the basket of fries in the middle of the table.

Of course, Ace quickly pushed the basket to the side, leaving poor Deuce to just grab the air where the fry would be.

“H-hey!” Duece exclaimed, staring down at Ace, who was now passing the fries to everyone at the table except for Duece.

You knew today was going to be the start of an eventful summer day with your friends compared to last semester.

-

The walk down the longest pier on the island was becoming more and more familiar to the five of you all.

Ace leading the group, followed by Duece and Sebek, who follow close behind the bright, vermillion-haired boy, with Jack and Epel behind those two in front of you, close to the end of the group.

So far, it seemed there were more for hire signs out today, which you all went to eagerly fill out the applications or took a break from the heat to fill out online applications on your phones.

“Hey Ace haven’t we already been down this way today?” Duece spoke up, looking around at the surrounding colorful stalls.

"Yeah, we have, but you never know, maybe the churro stand might be hiring,” Ace said, looking off towards the horizon.

“She’s not interested, Ace,” Epel replied softly.

Ace abruptly stops almost tripping duece, and Sebek following far too close behind the stunned boy.

“How would you know, Epel?” 

Epel made a sly expression in response.

“Because I banged her last night,” he casually threw out. Everyone giggling around Epel.

"Yeah, and I banged your mom last night, and she wasn’t interested at first,” Ace wiped at his nose.

The laughter and “oh snaps” that erupted from the boys in front of you was blusterous. You could only stand there shaking your head thinking about how Epel had walked into that one; everyone knew saying anything to the fast-thinking Ace was literal suicide unless you beat him to the punch.

As you took the opportunity to take the lead of the group, you were faced with a crossroad you called it on the sprawling pier as you kept walking ahead.

You had all been up and down the straight path of the creaky,hole-ridden path leading to the end of the entertainment district of the pier. 

However, there was a left path of pier leading to the street that had old buildings lined up that you don’t think you’d ever walked towards, or at least never really paid any attention to.

As you walked down the street, you could see the contrast from the weathered wooden scape that was the pier to the rustic, whimsical coastal buildings lined with various boutiques, restaurants, and residential buildings, all in unique shapes but mostly in the same weathered red and sun-faded blue.

But as you strolled along, a building like none other you’ve seen on the street appeared before you.

A two-story building between an abandoned lot and a tourist gift shop seemed to be one of the original buildings that were built here since Sages Island was founded. It had what you’d call a Victorian Seashell aesthetic going on, being a dusty lavender color either from the sun hitting the paint for so many years or just needing a new paint job on the entire outdoor building. 

Your eyes next followed the side of the building, where a big sign was hanging on the side of the window in the shape of a clam shell with a pearl in the middle and neon lights lining the design.

“The Antique Pearl” was what the sign letters read as you got closer to the building on the street.

Remembering your group of friends, you turned to look around for your friends to make sure they were following behind. 

They were a considerable distance from you, seemingly going back to their previous roast session they had started while you were busy looking at the building.

Walking up to the building, briskly closing the distance between the buildings, and passing an ally where a lonesome black-railed staircase led up to the business that was above the shop, you finally reached the storefront window.

You expected to see a display in the window, but instead were greeted with a look into the actual interior of the place.

Racks and racks of various sizes and lengths were littered around the cool blue-toned lighting, and the various clothes were packed tightly together like sardines in a can.

You looked towards the wall, which was a circular rack. The clothes seemed to catch your eye, but suddenly the back of a man was seen blocking the particular patch of clothes you were about to examine. 

Normally you wouldn’t think much about it, but the way this particular man looked and dressed was definitely different.

He wore a pristine, crisp white dress shirt with black and purple suspenders holding his dark dress pants. His hair was as silver as a full moon, giving him an ethereal look. It was styled in a neatly trimmed undercut, from what you could tell.

To you, he was incredibly handsome; despite just seeing the backside of him, you could tell his face was probably as defined as his back looked. 

A chill arose from your back, causing you to shake. It was very out of place since it had to be at least 33 degrees Celsius outside under the June sun.

Looking around to see if you were maybe in the shade to verify why the sudden drop in temperature was only met with no rational answer.

You thought to yourself that it might be anemia, looking back at the man you assumed was an employee.

He was now standing still, stopping his task of presumably hanging clothes. Ever so hesitantly, his head turned towards the window you were staring in from.

Crap you must have been checking him out for too long, worriedly thought.

As much as you wanted to back away and run back to the pier where your friends were probably looking for you, a force was the best way you could describe it; it kept you firmly planted in place in front of the window you were peeking through.

Maybe fear? Maybe curiosity kept you there to see the handsome strangers full face.

Distinctly, the first thing you noticed was his very beautiful side profile, a very boxy-like jawline giving him a very masculine, mature look, making you assume he had to be in his twenties if not older than you, a pair of glasses framing his face, and his unmistakable aquamarine eyes highlighting his recessive features.

You weren’t sure how long you sat there staring at this poor random employee, but he didn’t look annoyed at you staring at him. In the moment, you couldn’t place exactly what the expression was, but it felt like he was trying to figure out if you were staring at him or not. Just as gradual of a time he took to turn around, he twinkled a grin across his pretty lips, revealing what you think was a beauty mark placed on the left side of his chin.

Trying to contain the wildfire of blush running wild on your cheeks, you gave him a polite smile back.

Yeah, I'm so getting the cops called on me.

Unfortunately, before you could soak the image of the man into your memory, a sudden hand was placed on your bare shoulders.

Gasping quickly, you were greeted by someone who wasn’t your friend but strangely looked familiar to you.

He was tall with teal hair, and one strand of black hair lazily sat over his right eye, which was strangely a piercing yellow color while his other eye was a darker color. It also didn’t help that he also had a few lip and face piercings, giving him a distinctive look about the young man. Wearing a suit with a dusky lavender shade as the shop was, you couldn’t help but stare at how tall he was compared to you as he smiled down on you in a cool smile.

“I noticed you were staring very intently at the sign." The mysterious man gestured in front of him.

You didn’t even notice, but in front of you, slightly higher than your forehead, was a sign. 

“Now hiring immediate spot open.”

“Oh—I uh was,” you said, clearing your throat.

-

You found out his name is Jade.

He also attends the university you and your friends go to, along with his brother.Jade tells you this as he takes you into the vast building. 

Jade interviews you in front of the cash register over a glass case where the jewelry that was sort of valuable stayed in.

“So just curious, but why hasn’t anyone applied for store manager yet, if I may ask Jade?” You casually said leaning against the case,

“Because of where the shop currently resides, not a lot of locals come this way, leaving only tourists and the few that do know about our store,” Jade replied. Initially, when you found out that it was a thrift shop, you were surprised, mainly by the fact that you’d never heard of it before in the year you’ve been studying here for school.

“That does make sense—I guess,” being satisfied with the answer you received.

“So (name), what day would you like to start? I’ll unfortunately won’t be able to get your lodging accommodations ready immediately, but—“ 

“Hang on to lodging accommodations?” Your eyes almost bugged out. You were aware you’d pretty much have owner responsibilities, but having a free place to live was an instant success in your book.

“I thought I told you after the questions." Jade tilted his head in curiosity. 

“Here, I can actually show you,” he said, leaning over the glass counter across from you, making a beeline through the cramped space next to the register of vintage clothes.

The floorboards creaked and groaned under the weight of you both walking on them, feeling the vibrations as you eventually reached an employee entrance tucked behind a couple of rooms that you couldn’t quite look into as you passed by. The dark oak stairs were slightly dusty, seeming like no one had been through here in years as you went up the thick wooden stairs behind Jade.

The stairs weren’t well lit, but the beautiful vintage light fixtures seemed to be in need of new lightbulbs.

Jade stopped at the top of what looked like a sturdy house door with intricate wooden engravings of shells on the outside and a golden mail slot that had a scratched off name plate and electrical box on the right side of the crème walls wrapping around the landing.

After a few moments of him fiddling with the rusted, dark ebony key, the door finally opened, kicking up the stagnant air that had presumably been trapped there for years as he held the door open for you to enter.

Now, you weren’t at all one of those ghost and superstition kinds of people, but immediately upon entering the space, it felt creepy.

It was probably how dark the space was to assume there probably hadn’t been running electricity in this particular area in years hell, even decades from the faint piles of dust you could see between the thick boards above what you assumed was the window. 

“One moment (name)” Jade quickly went towards the breaker in the hallway.

A few flickers and the sound of electricity filled the room until they flickered on, revealing what was hidden in the darkness.

The floor beneath you is a deep cherrywood color, with a few coats of dust gracing the antique floorboards leading all the way into what was a very spacious kitchen that seemed mostly untouched, besides a few vintage knick-knacks and cooking books laying on the counters. 

A small hallway with three dark oak doors with old shaggy carpet started past the end of the kitchen, leading to where the room you'd be staying in was. 

Jade definitely wasn't kidding about how much dissaray the loft was in, but to you, if it was just a perk for working here, why complain anyway?

“So this whole loft is where I'll be staying, or just the room?” You questioned Jade, turning towards him and standing beside the entrance door.

“Everything here will be yours." Jade answered, “My brother and I live on campus at the Octavinelle dorm after all.”

Figures you thought of hearing the mention of the prestigious dorm name.

You took a moment to excitedly think about where you were going to place the few things you owned in the deserted loft.

Since you came later in the semester, you were put in a last-minute dorm that was in an old building called the Ramshackle Building. It certainly wasn’t as spacious as this place was, with only a small twin bed and wardrobe to your name in your room, and a very small mini fridge was all you had in your dorm compared to your friends, who had a literal bathroom and private suite to themselves.

This was a blessing to have a whole place free for exchange to work and take care of a beautiful vintage thrift store.

“So does the job seem enticing enough (name)? We'd hope you can accept our offer; we’ve been in dire need for the position to be filled after all." Jade smiled, putting a hand to his heart.

Without even thinking, you instantly agreed. 

“I can start as soon as you need me,” you said with no hesitation.

Jade gave you a reassuring smile before reaching for your hand in a professional handshake.

Following him out of the loft, however, another sudden chill ran up your spine, forcing you to look around once more before you 

-

Surprised couldn’t even be the right word to describe how you felt when you went downstairs and saw your group of friends in front of the counter joking with... well

Jade?

He wore the exact same work uniform as Jade, the same colored hair, and the same exact black streak over their different colored eyes.

Ace seemed to be joking around with him while Duece and Epel were looking at the sports equipment leaning on a wall next to a bunch of tall displays with mannequins in colorful outfits. Jack and Sebek were talking next to a couple of book shelves near where Duece and Epel were seemingly discussing something about a book on the shelf Jack was looking at while Sebek seemingly was giving his opinion about, well, something you couldn’t hear from that far.

As soon as you got a few footfalls away from the glass counter where you had conducted your interview, Ace immediately perked up at the sight of you.

“(Name)! Thank God Duece wasn’t lying; we thought you went missing,” Ace said, waving at you.

The Jade look alike looked in your direction.

Looking at him closer, you could tell he was definitely not Jade at all but a lookalike; his eye shape was more droopier than Jade's upturned eye shape, giving him a bit more of an exaggerated appearance; he also did not have the lip piercings or the distinct piercings on his eyebrows like Jade had.

Walking over to Ace, you quickly grabbed his shoulder, pulling his ear close to you.

"Ace, who is that?”

You subtly gestured to Discount Jade in front of the two of you.

Ace was about to speak when Jade came around from the back of the employee area, giving you the paperwork for you as a new hire he promised once you went down the stairs.

"Oh, did I forget to tell you about my brother?” he asked innocently.

You only stared at Jade in bewilderment now, staring at the two of them side by side.

Discount Jade starts to laugh a wheezy, creaky laugh, definitely sounding the complete opposite of the brother you met.

“So this is our new storekeeper? What a cute little thing.” 

“Hey! (Name) isn’t cute, they're ugly." Ace spoke up, puffing his cheek.

You only slapped his shoulder with all your might, causing him to wince in return, causing the discount Jade and Jade to laugh in unison.

“I’m going to make a wild guess and assume you two are identical twins,” you remarked.

Discount Jade only smiled at you while Jade laid out the paperwork in front of where you were standing.

"Hey, wait a minute, you got a job (name)?” Ace blurted it out.

"No, fair. I want to work with (name) and Floyd." He pouted

"Unfortunately, we only had one position to fill. If we see (name) bring more business to the shop, however, we will keep you in mind." Jade simply smiled.

Contently, you signed the paperwork Jade gave you, filling out your information as best as you could, while Ace and Floyd continued talking to each other besides you.

You had to check something you had on your phone, prompting you to pull your phone up from your shorts back pocket and fish it out.

Usually, as most of the time you would do this routine, on the ebony screen, you’d catch a glimpse of your face, a random reflection from the ceiling above, or even your unflattering double chin looking down towards you before you’d power it on and see your screensaver and passcode screen.

This time wasn’t like the last few times.

Looking at your phone's dark screen reflection caused you to audibly gasp, turning around quickly. This abrupt reaction made Floyd, Ace, and Jade look at you in curiosity.

Although you completely expected to see the well-dressed man behind you, there was no one there behind you that matched the handsome stranger's appearance.

You knew you saw his face behind your shoulder peeking over at you; those eyes were so unmistakable, you knew it had to be that man.

“Are you okay, (name)?" Jade furrowed his brow.

“Yeah, it happens when you have a face like that and look at your reflection." Ace mimicked your voice before Floyd and Ace erupted into laughter, immediately melting the tension you felt and replacing it with rage as you slapped his thin arm again, leaving a red sting on his flesh.

After finishing the paperwork without further incident, you were officially hired. Your group of friends was overall supportive as you told them all the details about your first day being Monday, giving you all the weekend to hang out before you had to attend your first gig.

The rest of the evening, you all walked the entire boardwalk as the sun set for the evening, prompting you all to go home for the night.

But you, however, are too excited to immediately go home to your dorm.

Remembering the directions you took to get to your new job and future home, you’d approached the dimly lit building. It looked different at night; the streetlights illuminated the inside of the sprawling thrift store.

You stopped walking to admire the building in its entirety, as you did when you first ran into it.

The top floor where the loft was that you’d walk into was completely dark, which made sense since, because of how boarded up the windows were, they were not allowing any moonlight in nor streetlights.

Staring at the window in the middle that you assumed was the living room window you’d observed when you walked in viewing the lonely loft.

However, the longer you looked, the more you swore you heard something.

Bringing your attention to the street to make sure you weren’t in the way you looked around you.

Tap tap tap 

The sound was soft but enough to drive you crazy—was someone walking from the opposite direction or was something on the verge of diving out of your purse you had wrapped around your shoulder?

That damned chill ran up your spine for the third time today, causing you to wrap your arms around yourself. You’d have to remember to bring a jacket when you came to work on Monday since it seemed like it was a cold spot in town. Most likely due to being close to the waterfront, you thought.

Abruptly, you paused when you heard humming.

A soft humming of a tune that sounded very melodious, very vintage

The tapping sound was accompanying the cold hum, but you finally realized where the sound was coming from.

Inside the dark store, the stranger from before was walking towards you, emerging from the shadowy ultramarine hues and the lack of lighting cast on the worn wooden boards.

His striking azure eyes were all you saw as he emerged from the back of the store. His polished, well-taken-care-of dress shoes made a tapping sound as he walked towards you at a crawling pace, humming the tune as he took an agonizingly slow step forward.

He still looked very attractive now that you could see his flawless features up close...

The trance you were in was immediately broken as soon as you realized he was walking to the front door.

Where you currently were standing.

In a panic, you wasted no time finally moving your legs out of the way of the door before he’d open it and ask you what you were doing there, most likely.

As you bolted down the road, you didn’t turn around once, afraid of, god knows what, him running behind you. Getting in trouble for trespassing since you were just standing around.

You never got randomly anxious like that before.

collapsing outside your delapidaed dorm, you stumbled inside the dark doorway bolting to your room upstairs.

not glancing once as you slammed the door to your dorm entry.

-

A new customer came by, and being so young and full of life, they stared at me for what felt like forever.

I need to know more about her. It seems Jade recognized my curiosity towards her as well.

Hopefully, I will meet her tomorrow.

-

[quinnyundertow]

The Cult Leader’s Quarry

Chapter 5

Beautiful Bitchy Face

You should have known that something was going to go terribly wrong when you were enjoying yourself a little too much on your date. After his first glass of whiskey Nanami seemed to unwind a little bit and let down his guard. His fingers moving to roll up the sleeves of his navy dress shirt. The corded muscle of his forearms distracting you from whatever it was he was saying. The two of you are enjoying the time alone at the table discussing novels now as Gojo and Zoe move with the crowd on the packed dance floor.

Nanami’s deep honeyed voice calls your name again to get your attention. You feel yourself flush as you look up quickly. “I’m sorry, what was that?” You use your distraction as an excuse to get a little closer as if you are having trouble hearing. Your hand lightly rests on his bicep as you lean towards him.

He glances down to where your smaller hand gently lays on his arm. Butterflies of giddiness he isn’t used to feeling flutter inside him. The tips of his ears and high cheekbones are tinted red from a pleasurable mix of excitement and embarrassment. He can’t remember the last time he felt his heart race like this for a positive reason. Maybe it never has. You have a lot in common so far and that was the last thing he was expecting from a date Gojo had set up.

Taking your movement into his space as a good sign he leans a little closer. Nanami’s always been so busy chasing curses that he hasn’t ever taken the time to chase skirts. His sensual lips are moving by your ear. “I asked if I could buy you another mojito?”

A happy shiver rolls down your spine as you nod, “I’d like that.” He’s close enough to you now that you can smell his heavenly mixture of man, sandalwood, spice and whiskey. He looks reluctant to move away as he gestures for another round from a nearby waitress.

You leave your hand on his arm lightly. You’re relishing in the difference in textures; the crisp dress shirt, his light masculine blonde arm hair and the warmth of his pale skin beneath your fingers.

From the corner of your eye you see someone casually slip into the empty seat across from Nanami. The new voice being smooth and sensual with a hint of warning as they address your date, “Well, isn’t this nice? When Satoru claimed he had found a replacement for me this evening I didn’t imagine it would be the ever stoic Nanami, Kento.”

You can sense something is wrong long before your vision can see it. Nanami’s relaxed posture tightens up and exudes hostility immediately in response to the uninvited guest. You’re turning in confusion, your gaze landing on a man with closed eyes and a Cheshire smile. It’s only when he opens his eyes and you see the dangerous glint within that you register this isn’t just a random stranger. It’s him. He's so staggeringly beautiful it’s hard to look at him. His features, so prettily crafted, make him appear like a fallen angel. His raven hair is pulled into a messy bun with only a small bit of bangs resting to cradle his face. He’s wearing the same gauges as the last two times you ran into one another. The only difference now is several more piercings on both ears and onyx metal snakebite piercings that pull your gaze down to his lips.

If it wasn’t for his, better than you posture and tone of voice, you might have thought it was a different person entirely. The iconic monk robes are gone. His black button up dress shirt is worn casually. The fabric pulls tauntingly over his muscular chest and arms. The top two buttons undone so a bit of his chest is exposed. He isn’t looking at you. In fact he is refusing to acknowledge your existence to the point where he’s actively ignoring you.

The silence around the table drags as Nanami’s jaw flexes in agitation, “Suguru Geto.” He spits the name out like it’s a curse.

Geto raises a wry brow in response, “How formal.”

The waitress comes by the table carrying the two fresh drinks for you and Nanami. She misses the hostile atmosphere and greets your newest party member happily, “Good evening, can I get you anything from the bar?”

Before Geto can respond Nanami is frowning deeply, “No, he was just leaving.”

Tilting his head with a hum, Geto asserts, “Actually, I think I’ll stay for a while. Let me get what he’s having.”

“Right away.” The young lady chirps with a flirty wink before disappearing back into the throng of bodies.

Geto’s lip curls in disgust at her retreating form. “I don’t know how you can stand to be surrounded by all this monkey stench.” His eyes roam the room with disdain.

Your stomach dropped in panic when the man you now know is named Suguru Geto states his intention to stay. You try to rein in your fear, pulse pounding in your ears. Your fingers are turning white and tightening on Nanami’s arm. It’s only now that Nanami seems to notice your fearful expression. His hand moves to hold the back of the stool you are seated in. An effortless tug of the metal frame moves you so you're pulled slightly behind his own seated form.

The gesture makes you feel a little safer but Geto just laughs in response. “You don’t have to be so cold, Nanami. I have no problem with you.”

You can hear Nanami’s teeth practically grinding in irritation, “I can’t say I feel the same.” His tone is short and to the point. Your vision tracks around the crowded room. No Zoe or Gojo present. Nanami continues, “There are orders to bring you into custody, if encountered, dead or alive.”

Geto doesn’t look particularly surprised or even interested at this news. “Is that so? Do you think you can manage it?”

“No, I’m not an idiot.” The tone Nanami uses sounds bitter and resigned. You had no clue what they are talking about. Is Nanami a police officer? You wouldn’t be surprised if this Suguru Geto is a wanted criminal.

Geto stretches nonchalantly, several silver rings inlaid with black diamonds flash in the low lighting. The waitress brings Geto’s drink over, her posture excited to have an excuse to interact with the handsome man once more, “So what brings-.”

The girl barely gets three words out when without so much as a glance Geto does a rude shooing motion with his hand. The woman draws back in surprise at the attitude but rolls her eyes before turning away.

“Thank you!” You call after her retreating form, the placating words coming out of your mouth before you consider if they should.

Only at that do Geto’s eyes lazily move from Nanami’s gaze to your own. He scrutinizes you for a moment. His gaze is so intense that it feels like he’s pulling you into his coal shaded orbs. There’s something strange in his expression. The emotion shown is so brief that you would later think you had only imagined it; a sliver of wistfulness, longing, maybe even regret. But as soon as it came the vulnerability was gone. His eyes return to Nanami and he gives that closed eye grin. His hand disappears into his pants pocket only to emerge with some sort of small bottle of disinfecting spray. He sprays himself a few times as Nanami stares at him in confusion.

“It’s the only thing that helps with the monkey stench.” Geto replies nonchalantly as Nanami’s face shows incredulity.

The muscle in Nanami’s jaw ticks, “I thought it was an exaggeration, but you really did go insane.”

“No, I simply began to understand my worth. You’d do well to learn your own as well.” He cuts a glance at you, his lip curling in genuine revulsion, “Then you won’t lower yourself to dating something so beneath you.”

You have had enough. This crazy ass cult leader didn’t even know the first thing about you and he’s just smiling away as he insults you to your face. Your fingers tighten against the drink in your hand. The glass perspiring and wetting your fingers in the warm room. It almost feels like time is moving in slow motion as you jerk your arm forward and watch with satisfaction as the alcohol inside it sloshes over the rim and across the table. The action was so unexpected, so outside of any response you’ve had thus far, that he didn’t see it coming until it splattered across his beautiful bitchy face. The table is absolutely silent as the liquid drips down his nose and mouth. One or two ice cubes slide into his shirt as they fall to the floor.

Your aim was uncharacteristically spot on. Nanami has a look of horror on his face as he moves to stand between you and the now drenched curse user. Geto’s eyes are still closed when the deathly quiet is shattered by hysterical laughter from none other than Satoru Gojo. Of course he and Zoe chose now of all moments to emerge from the dance floor.

You’re tempted to make a break for it but find yourself frozen in place as the man you just soaked turns to meet your eyes. Finding your courage you stand and lean around Nanami to address this Suguru Geto, “I don’t know who the hell you think you are but I’m done taking shit from some pretty boy with a God complex! Get over yourself, you're not better than anyone else in here. If anything you’re worse because you survive by leeching off of the same people you look down on. What a pathetic existence that is.”

You expect rage, for him to stand up and try to strike you. Instead he’s staring at you with a mix of malice and amusement. His smile is stretched into almost a grimace, his cheek twitching. Geto’s tone is clipped when he finally speaks, “Are you quite finished?” You don’t respond but your hand lowering to place the glass back on the table is answer enough for him. He sounds mocking and condescending as he answers his own query, “That’s what I thought.” He pauses briefly, his head tilting slightly as he watches you. It reminds you of the way a snake watches its prey before it strikes. “You’re feeling very brave today. Hiding behind a sorcerer's back.”

Your brow furrows in confusion at him calling Nanami a sorcerer. This guy really is crazy. You step to the side, moving closer to Zoe and Gojo. Your intent, more importantly, is to move out from behind Nanami’s protective shadow. Your visage is challenging as you tilt your head up in defiance.

At some point Gojo had stopped laughing. The sounds of the club are interrupted by a different laugh this time. Geto barks out a singular sharp “Ha!” He’s starting to look manic now. His pupils dilating as he fixes you with a crooked grin. “You’ll do well to remember this moment when you are sobbing for mercy later.”

He says the threat so casually that you can’t help but question if you heard him correctly. The response of those around you lets you know you did. Gojo is stepping forward to speak to Geto as Nanami ushers both you and Zoe into the crowd and towards the nearest exit.

Zoe looks panicked when you meet her eyes. She’s peering around Nanami and cycling between Geto and Gojo at the table. Her vision finally landing on you as the three of you quickly leave. Her free hand grabs on to your own. Not to pull you back or make you stop but to give reassurance. She’s leaning forward, her voice an urgent whisper, “What the hell is going on? Are you okay?”

You glance at her quickly before talking over your shoulder. “I am so fucked.”

Zoe looks confused, glancing back one last time at the two gorgeous men they left behind. She can’t help but feel a shiver go down her spine at the way the alternative looking guy is staring you down. “I’m assuming this is not a good fuck?”

“This is really not the time.” You whine. Your breath catches in your throat as Nanami’s hand rests on your lower back and pulls you closer to his side as you pass a particularly rowdy group of drunks. Zoe trails close behind, essentially walking in the wake of people Nanami leaves. Her eyebrows wiggle with a barely concealed snicker seeing you flush so hard up against the man’s massive pectorals.

A rush of cool air and the muffling of music lets you know the moment you appear outside the club. Your group moves over to the side so you don’t obstruct the entrance as you look up at Nanami a little guiltily. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have reacted like- “.

You’re momentarily stunned when the stoic man starts laughing. He raises a hand and clears his throat to try and mask the sudden outburst. “You really shouldn’t have.” His tone is chiding but there’s a glint of amusement in his eyes. “That said, I was about to reach over the table and make a bigger scene than you did.” He’s looking down at Zoe, an apology ready, “I’m sorry I whisked you out of there so fast as well.”

The corner of Zoe’s mouth twitches as she tries to hold back giggles. Hand fluttering, she waves him off while stepping away from you two, “Don’t mind me. I’m just a fly on the wall. A cigarette butt on a street corner.” She was definitely still buzzed despite the excitement earlier. As she steps further away and out of Nanami’s line of sight she flashes you a giddy thumbs up that has you hold back a fit of laughter. You are definitely not sober either.

Nanami’s glancing behind him at the club his face pinched in concern, “I’m not worried about Gojo’s well being but I should get back in there for damage control.” He frowns at you for a moment before asking, “How were you ladies planning on getting home?”

You glance in the general direction of the metro station, “We’re just taking the train.”

“Home?!” Zoe’s loud interruption is followed by the sound of her hand slapping her mouth shut. “Ignore me, I’m just a leaf on a tree. A-a cricket on a- shit..” She mumbling out some other crackpot analogies as Nanami turns back towards you.

“I’m really not a fan of not walking a date home after. Can I call you a car?”

It’s your turn to wave him away. Despite the chaos of the evening your blind date had been an unexpectedly pleasant experience. “No, we’re fine. We take the train home from this station after work everyday.”

Zoe leans forward talking to no one in particular, “A ride home would be nice.” You’re giving her a reproachful look as she turns her face away so as not to see it.

Nanami already has the phone to his ear by the time you turn back to insist you’re fine. “Yes, I’m sending my location. I need a driver to take two ladies home.” The person on the other line must have asked something uncomfortable as Nanami’s cheeks turn crimson. His fingers fiddling with his tie awkwardly, “You’ll have to take it up with Gojo. He’s the one who- right. Thank you.” Nanami hangs up the phone without further comment. His warm hazel eyes meet yours for a moment as he clears his throat, “I need to get back in there. Do you- Can we exchange numbers?”

You can’t help the giddy feeling that races through you at the thought of a prospective second date. You’re smiling from ear to ear as you fish your phone out of your purse. “Sure, I’d like that.”

He nods, opening his contacts and passing the phone over while you do the same. He clears his throat again as he finishes typing and holds your phone back to you. “If anything unusual or strange happens, you shouldn’t hesitate to reach out.”

Your stomach drops, the giddiness extinguishing. “Oh, right. Okay then.” What was with these guys and referencing something strange. What even qualifies as something strange?

All hope for a second date flies out the window as the man bows his head to you and Zoe before going back inside the club.

Zoe walks up to stand beside you. “Sooo, you wanna tell me what that was all about?”

~~

Heart racing, blood pumping, nerves alight and senses tingling. His erection is straining against his suit pants; his thigh tacky with precum. It’s a little past two am. The parking lot is dark and full of vehicles. His own exorbitantly expensive sports car looks out of place in this middle class area. He doesn’t bother to lock it. One of his curses lazes in front of it, its directive to kill anyone who tries to tamper with the luxury vehicle.

Suguru’s footsteps echo off the pavement as he approaches your apartment complex. Even after going into the mens room at the club and washing his face off, he still feels that stickiness on him from where your drink had landed. His shirt, no longer damp, still reeks of booze and lime. His cock twitches painfully in his pants just thinking about the way you attempted to bare your fangs at him. You reminded him of a feral kitten; simply adorable and harmless as you tried to draw blood.

If Satoru hadn’t been there tonight he might have lost control at the bar. He had found you almost immediately in the crowd when he entered. His eyes drawn to your presence. You had your hands all over a man. It hadn’t even registered immediately to him that it was Nanami leaning into you; speaking in your ear as you laughed gaily. Of course Satoru would drag another sorcerer into this. It was all just one big game to his white haired foolish friend.

Fucking Satoru and his medlsome nature. If he hadn’t interfered Suguru would have bent you over the table in front of everyone. Taken his belt to your ass right there until you viscerally understood that your bratty attitude would not be tolerated. No, he should thank Satoru. He would have had to kill everyone in that club after they saw you exposed and writhing beneath him. Satoru’s presence had forced his rage into a simmer, turning the heat down from that roiling boil you left inside him.

Your apartment door stands only feet in front of him now. He resists the urge to break the hinges with a powerful kick. The curse he summons simply turns the lock from the inside. The door slowly creaks open to invite him in. It’s dark. If not for the artificial city lights outside your window it would be pitch black inside. Suguru reaches out a hand with black painted nails to shut the door after him. The bolt lock slowly clicking into place. He doesn’t want to be interrupted tonight.

The front door opens up to your kitchen. He considers leaving your present on the counter like he originally intended. But you didn't really deserve it right now. Maybe he’d change his mind after he was done with you. Right now he needs you to understand your position on his modified food chain.

Suguru’s breath is picking up as he passes through your kitchen and makes his way down the hall to your bedroom. He’s excited, ecstatic, aroused. He likes the unexpected fight you showed him this evening. He wants to take his time breaking it out of you. His fingers levitate over your bedroom door knob for a moment before he goes to swing it open.

~~

Satoru Gojo and Nanami Kento stand outside on top of an apartment complex adjacent to the one you’re asleep in. The night is chilly but neither man seems to notice as they wait to see if Suguru Geto will show himself. Nanami is more than a little irritated at his snowy haired colleague and Gojo is aware and simply doesn’t care right now. The mood is tense and only after several hours have passed and the lights inside turn off does Nanami finally speak. “Why haven’t you put him down yet?”

Gojo turns to look at Nanami, the blindfold not impairing his vision at all. “Put him down? He’s not a damn dog.” Gojo tries to mask the irritation in his tone but knows he’s unsuccessful. He comes across as sarcastic and agitated.

Nanami turns to meet his gaze head on. He’s never been one to shy away from confrontation. Especially when he feels like it concerns something ethical. “You’re right. A dog would do a hell of a lot less damage.”

Gojo turns away without comment. It’s not until Nanami starts to think he’s going to be ignored that Gojo finally breaks the stalemate. “You went to school with him too. Even if you didn’t like him. How can you just say something like that?”

Crossing his arms, Nanami's lips turn down into a deep frown. “Gojo, he’s a murderer.”

Gojo spins on the slightly shorter man, his canines glittering as he bites out, “So am I and so are you!” His tone is vicious.

Nanami’s response is firm. “It’s not the same thing and you know it. We’ve killed curse users or people turned into curses. We don’t kill innocent people.”

A sarcastic laugh leaves Gojo’s throat, “We don’t know if the people Suguru is killing are innocent.”

“He killed everyone in a village, surely they were all not guilty of crimes deserving death. Gojo, he killed his parents.”

Gojo doesn’t want to hear this. He can’t ignore the atrocities Suguru has committed when Nanami keeps shoving them in his face. The next line he speaks is under his breath like he doesn’t even believe what he’s saying, “Someone else can do it.”

Nanami feels his temper explode, “Like hell they can!” He’s grabbing Gojo by the shoulders and shaking him violently. The fact that Gojo is allowing it is lost on Nanami in the moment. “You know damn well you’re the only one capable of beating him in a fight! It’s your responsibility as the strongest to-.”

Gojo gives a sarcastic chuckle that catches Nanami off guard, “Yeah, well you know what Nanami? I never asked to be the strongest! I never asked to be seen as a weapon; to be used at society’s whim. I’m a human fucking being with feelings of my own. So you wanna know when am I going to “put down” my best and only friend? When I fucking feel like it!”

Gojo activates his infinity and Nanami feels his grip on the man in front of him release. Without another word Gojo sits down facing the apartment complex’s parking lot. A long gap of time passes in silence. Both men rehashing in their heads the words they said. Eventually, Nanami lets out a deep breath. He’s not about to apologize for anything he’s said and neither is Gojo but at least they know where each other is coming from whether it’s right, wrong, or somewhere in between.

Nanami sinks down to sit next to Gojo. His posture is less aggressive as he genuinely tries to understand this evening, “At least tell me why all this.” He gestures around him at the apartment complex, his implication clearly the involvement of the two non-sorcerer girls. “You dragged me into this and I at least deserve the answer to that.”

A long moment goes by before Gojo finally speaks. His tone defeated, “That mask he wears. That smile. The only time I’ve seen it slip since he left was when it involved the girl you went out with.”

Chapter 4

[fullbattleregalia]

The Silmarillion

• There are Good people and Bad people

• The names are long and turn into mush in my brain

Fire and Blood

• Everybody sucks (and if they don’t, they’ll be dead soon)

• The names are short, so I can at least I can remember who is responsible for doing the latest terrible thing at any given moment

[honeyvenommusic]

❗️NEWGLASSANIMALSGLASSANIMALSGLASSANIMALSGLASSANIMALSGLASSANIMALSGLASSAN-

[offyoupop-easypeasy]

when ppl say it's wrong to read cory/shawn as queer bc guys should be able to have close friendships without being gay

which like

why can't it be both?

but also mainly for me i read them as queer partly bc of their obvious love but also bc of how their relationship is kinda dysfunctional. not that they have to be dysfunctional to be gay. but just their characters have so much comphet. and it is often played for laughs but cory and shawn actually do not have the ideal friendship every likes to paint it as. not that their love is less, but if you really watch every ep you see how many episodes they talk about not having other friends and actually not being allowed to have other friends. cory especially seems to be extremely jealous of shawn having other friends. and this would be seen as a normal friendship plot that we see a lot in media. except in this show it's never actually framed as bad or something to mature past but actually excepted as good and just the way cory and shawn are and how close of friends they are.

[soft-serve-soymilk]

Gaslighting? In MY household? It’s more likely than you think

[steakout-05]

he is not amused.....

[chromatic-corrosion]

.

[hotvintagepoll]

Machiko Kyō (Rashomon, Ugetsu, The Face of Another)—Probably a bit of a reach ik because she is absolutely traditionally attractive (like one of the most stunning people ever imo) BUT from ghost women to people having total breakdowns, my girl could absolutely play unhinged and spooky better than anyone when she wanted to and I believe that gives her a certain scrungle factor!! Also she's an icon and she should've gotten farther in the women's tournament

Timothy Carey (Convicts 4, Poor White Trash, The Killing)— The fact that Timothy Carey is an ACTOR is honestly an astonishing one. In most of his films you literally cannot understand what he says, why he's saying it, or again...how he became an actor. He frequently plays scum, delinquents, the criminally insane, and degenerates. Regardless, when he's on-screen he makes you want to watch him because by god he's going to do SOMETHING. WHO KNOWS WHAT THAT WILL BE!? He'll speak his entire dialogue through clenched teeth, dance his weird little heart out, and all the while looking at you with these big dark eyes that constantly have that quality of a dog that is too overstimulated. He is a greasy freak and I always get so excited when I see his names in the credits.

This is round 1 of the contest. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. If you're confused on what a scrungle is, or any of the rules of the contest, click here.

[additional submitted propaganda + scrungly videos under the cut]

Machiko Kyō:

Timothy Carey:

Link to Convicts 4, Carey comes in around 48:00. According to the submittee "he will be eating sandwich and the first line is 'Johnnnnnny!'". [editor's note: as with all full movies submitted as propaganda, I didn't have time to watch them beyond a few minutes to gauge the scrungliness of the guys, so if you choose to watch in full be wary if you have triggers since I can't tag for them.]

[tracle0]

Heads down several across tag!

Thank you @scmalarky very cool I’ve not written anything in a long time 🙃

but! There are some things! I can share! Not quite seven lines but disappointment is a burden we must learn to endure.

-

There is nothing in their head to guide them out of the disapproving looks, and they hunch their shoulders, untangle their limbs, hope that maybe this time, this pair will act like normal people and understand their stance without them having to verbally explain it. The silence stretches. Clearly they are having no such luck, and they swallow awkwardly. “I was just going…” 

“To bed,” Nara suggests firmly. She is looking at Dannel. They can’t fully place her expression, but it almost seems smug. “Right now.”

“But -“

“And don’t let us hear another peep out of you until morning,” she adds. “Goodnight, Atlas.”

Not even the song can persuade them to argue against that tone. 

-

Cool that’s that. Lil. Short story of a younger Atlas. I wrote it last month maybe whilst on holiday.

Tagging uhhhhh god. @albatris @daisywords @polyaubergine @chauceryfairytales @joyful-soul-collector if you would like ?

[mbat]

dude something im realizing as im basically speedrunning wow pet achievements because i keep doing pet battles to get the pets i want, is how much better it is to actually be able to see the pets before i enter the battle

because in pokemon and pokemon-adjacent games they usually do that thing where you cant see what youre going to get, and sure thats a staple of the genre but its one of the most infuriating parts of it. like stuff can still be rare if you can see it dude, please just make them visible....

[happy74827]

Say Yes to Heaven

[Logan Howlett x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Sometimes all it takes is one look. One gesture. One word. One action. To remind them that not everyone sees them the same, and It's enough to send a person over the edge.

WC: 3690

Category: Fluff, First Kiss, Logan’s POV

Another Grumpy!Logan x Sunshine!Reader because it’s my comfort trope ✨🫶

『••✎••』

He never realized how much he wanted someone to care for.

It was something he didn't know he desired. A year ago, he didn't care for a single thing. He felt nothing. He was so numb. So empty.

He was an angry man. The kind of man people kept their distance from. Wade ruined that; he aggravated him so much that Logan started actually caring about his life. And for as much as he despised his fugly ass, he was internally grateful for him. He started to open up more and more.

Wade had a part in taking him out of rock bottom, as they say, but you… you aggravated him in the most endearing way possible. You were so bright, so happy, and full of life. Logan couldn't understand how someone could be like that, and he hated you for it. He thought it was so ignorant of you.

"I mean, come on, how could she be that happy all the time? It's fucking dumb. She doesn't even know me!"

That's what he said to Wade, but his roommate only laughed. He found his frustration hilarious and made fun of him constantly.

And don’t even get started on the way you spoke. Never once have you raised your voice at anyone. You always talked softly, and even if you were pissed off, you still found a way to make your words sound gentle.

The man couldn’t wrap his mind around the way you acted, you weren’t a mutant, but you damn well could have been with that forever customer service smile you wore every day.

The level of patience and understanding you held for people was insane to him, especially the amount of patience you held with him.

He was constantly telling you to fuck off, and you took no offense; you just returned that stupidly kind smile and told him that if he needed anything, you were there for him.

You had no clue what he’s done, what he's capable of, and yet you treat him with the utmost respect. And being a mutant, respect, and kindness were two things he hadn’t received in a very long time.

It made him realize things—about himself and others. He started noticing you a little more—the way you looked and the way you acted. It started out as simple confusion and disgust… the typical reactions one would have when one sees an overly happy person.

But it evolved slowly into intrigue and curiosity.

Then something else. Something he couldn't describe.

His first instinct was to push it away. To try and convince himself, he was disgusted. He did this with everything he felt, but he couldn’t keep lying to himself.

It wasn't disgust.

He couldn't name it; he wasn't ready to, but he knew it wasn’t that.

Wade had noticed the change in him, the way he looked at you, the way he started being a little less rough with the words he chose to say. He didn’t bring it up, but the shit-eating grin he gave each time Logan walked in and saw you was more than enough proof that he had picked up on it.

Of course, it only resorted to grins because the one time he opened his mouth, Logan didn’t restrain himself. He popped his claws and had to go couch shopping the next day.

Whoops.

So, with Wade keeping his mouth shut after being chewed out by Blind Al and Logan trying his best to push away the foreign feelings, it finally reached a point where he could no longer ignore them.

He didn’t understand why, of all nights, it had to be this one, but it was.

It was 3 am, and his old nightmares had come back to haunt him. He was restless, sweaty, and couldn't take another second of sleep.

It took a rinsing of the bathroom sink and a pitiful glare at his reflection for you to return his gaze.

He froze for a second.

You were wearing a large T-shirt, with a pair of shorts underneath. Your hair was messy, but it looked so soft, and your face was clear of makeup, leaving the imperfections of your skin that made you all the more beautiful.

Always wearing a smile. Always greeting him with a soft voice, sometimes a little raspy if just waking up, butnonetheless soft.

But once he rubbed his eyes and let out a tired yawn, you weren’t there anymore.

Because you were never there, you lived across the street. You were in your apartment, sleeping, with no idea that, at that moment, the man who constantly told you to fuck off realized he couldn't stop thinking about you.

The same man who would grunt, scoff, and throw away every kind gesture now realized he secretly cherished them.

He stood there for a moment, just pondering his thoughts. His eyes were still on the spot he saw you in.

His head turned to the right, seeing the digital clock that rested on the nightstand.

3:02 am.

You were asleep…. most likely asleep. You would be unhappy if he came over and woke you up, wouldn't you?

He looked back at the sink.

You could be upset, but you could also be happy. You could give him that smile. That sweet, warm smile.

It would be worth it, right? Just for that?

3:04 am

He didn’t think about it. Not even for a second. Ironically, it started raining as if to test him, but the man was determined.

He put on a jacket to cover his bare chest, threw on some random shoes, and was out the door before his mind could stop him.

3:13 am

He knocked on your apartment door. He was completely drenched from the rain. His hair was messy, his jacket sticking to his body, and his shoes were so wet that the squelching sound they made was the only thing audible.

He heard shuffling. Soft steps coming closer. He could smell your scent. It shocked him how easy it was for him to recognize it.

You unlocked the door. Your brows furrowed in confusion.

His mental image of you being in sleepwear, messy hair, no makeup, had been confirmed. You were beautiful.

You had a tired look, one of the many looks he wasn’t used to. But it was still a good look, and it still held your signature kindness.

He had a feeling it would.

You didn't look too shocked, just tired and confused.

You spoke. "Logan, is…? Are you okay?"

Your voice was even softer than usual, the raspiness it held only making it more comforting.

You were genuinely worried about him, and it hit him then that he was being an asshole. Making you wake up in the middle of the night, and for what? Just because he wanted to see you?

Just because of that, he should’ve given you a reason. An explanation.

He should've asked. He should have done so many things differently, but he didn’t.

His head was in the clouds, and all he could think about was you.

You. That was all.

But his expression gave away that he was in a daze, and your worry only grew.

"Logan? What's wrong?"

You stepped out into the hallway and reached a hand to him.

His heart jumped a bit when you did so. It was just a gesture—one simple act of compassion.

He wasn't worthy of that, but he couldn't resist. He didn't want to.

Your fingers barely brushed against his upper arm before he moved. He grabbed your wrist.

His grip wasn't hard. His hold was gentle, as he had no intentions of hurting you. You could’ve easily pulled your arm away if you wanted to, but you didn't.

His eyes locked with yours. He wasn't sure what possessed him, but it felt so right, so he followed his instincts.

He tugged at your wrist, causing your body to fall into him. Your chest pressed against his. His arms wrapped around you, one hand cupping the back of your neck, the other resting on the small of your back.

The embrace was so sudden, and he knew the situation was far from ideal, but his senses were overflowed by your presence, your scent, your softness.

His chin rested atop your head, and his eyes fluttered closed.

It wasn’t the first time he ever hugged someone, but it was the first time he hugged someone in such a way. He held onto you tightly, his grip possessive but not painful.

He was afraid to let go.

He felt your hands press against his chest. You were probably going to push him away, he thought, and he tried to prepare himself. He told himself he would let you go because it was the right thing to do, yet he didn’t need to.

You hugged him back, and he almost lost his footing.

How long had it been since he last received a hug? Since the last time, someone held him and showed him affection?

Too long.

Your hands went inside his opened jacket and held onto him. Your fingers pressed against his skin, and your soft, warm breaths caressed his neck.

He could stay like this for eternity, and he would never grow tired of it.

Your voice reached his ears.

"Logan, did something happen?"

He had been standing there for quite a while. He wasn’t aware of how long. Time seemed to freeze around you, but he didn’t mind. He wasn't one to believe in such nonsense, but when it came to you, he was ready to accept it.

Your hand rested on his arm, and he knew you were subtly prompting him to move, and so he did.

He pulled away from the hug just enough to look at you.

Your lips were turned upwards. The corners of your eyes creased.

"Logan?"

It was then that his actions registered—how utterly close the two of you were, how intimately you were holding each other. He was already warm just from genetics alone, but now he felt everything around him heat up.

"I-"

He didn't know what to say. It was like he was back in that bar, drinking away every thought. He couldn't think. There was nothing. Nothing but the feel of your body against his.

But what truly sealed the deal was when he felt your thumb gently caress his knuckles. It was a small movement, barely noticeable, but it was centered exactly on the scars his claws made.

That little movement made his brain short-circuit. His hands twitched. His grip tightened. He held onto you with his entire body as if scared to let you go.

"What happened?"

You were patient with him. The fact that he hadn’t even answered any of your concerns said enough.

But, eventually, he did find some words to respond with. It wasn’t the answer you were searching for, but it was a response.

"Why are you always being so fucking kind?"

It was such a simple question, and yet the amount of pain it carried was overwhelming. He knew you could hear every word behind it. Every word he couldn't bring himself to say.

He didn’t deserve it. He wasn’t a good man. He did horrible things, and sure… he made an attempt to make up for it. To be better, but it couldn’t have been enough, could it?

You were still here, looking at him with those soft eyes.

Why couldn't you look at him the way he deserved to be looked at? Like he was a monster.

Why did you have to look at him with those goddamn beautiful eyes?

"You deserve kindness, Logan. We all do."

And then, your voice became even softer and a little shaky. Your hands went back to massaging his knuckles. His scars.

"Just because you see yourself a certain way doesn’t mean the rest of us do. I see the good in you. Always have since we first met."

You spoke so softly, yet your words were heavy with emotion.

"I know it's not easy, but try to have a little more faith in yourself."

You didn’t deserve the harsh words he always threw at you. You didn’t deserve any of his anger. You didn't deserve him.

"Why?" He repeated his question, his voice strained, and you didn't miss the way his jaw clenched. "Why should I?"

His arms loosened their hold around you; his hands moved down your sides, and his touch feathered light. He wasn’t sure what he was doing, but he couldn’t quite let go just yet.

You paid it no mind. Only staring back into his eyes with the same kindness he was so used to, the one he had grown to treasure.

"You have a right to feel the way you do, Logan. And I can't claim to understand what you've been through. I can't begin to imagine. But you are a good man. A little rough around the edges, maybe, but you’ve shown me time and time again that you're trying."

A smile crept its way onto your face, and a soft giggle escaped past your lips.

Now, to be fair, he was used to hearing your laughter. With your… odd sense of humor, it wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. But, this would be one of the firsts to add to his collection.

The one reserved for him and him only.

Your laughter wasn’t loud, or annoying, or anything like Wade's. It was soft, sweet, and oh-so pleasant.

You were looking at him. Staring up at him with such love and warmth. You didn't even realize it, but he did.

"Besides, who wouldn't be a little grouchy waking up to that handsome face every morning?"

And, now, he was repulsed by the unwelcome vision of a certain masked man making his way into his head. He was so disgusted by the thought he didn’t bother responding. He didn't want to.

So, instead, he moved.

He had a habit of moving on his own and not thinking about it. It went from his hands going to your sides, and now, his hands reaching out to press against the door behind you.

You were pinned against the door, and the way you looked at him didn’t change. Of course, it didn't. Your eyes were always kind. They always were.

You were leaning against the door. Looking at him, waiting.

And he stared back.

He was so close, and he was tempted to pull away. To take a step back and leave. It would be the best for both of you; at least, he thinks so.

He couldn't give you anything.

He had nothing.

There was only himself. His body. His mind. His past.

His claws, too, if that counted for anything.

But, besides those, there was nothing.

He wasn’t a bad man, but he wasn't good either. Not like you were. He couldn’t possibly begin to match you, not even if he tried.

Which is why he had no intention of trying.

Yet, even as he thought that, his body moved even closer. The dog tags he had never taken off since he was given them hung loosely, dangling in front of your face.

One of your hands was on his chest, the other gripping onto the material of his shirt.

"Logan."

You spoke his name so softly. Almost a whisper, and yet, the sound of it was all his senses were focused on.

Your gaze shifted between his eyes and lips, and the hand that had been holding onto his shirt moved, reaching up to his shoulder.

The touch was light, as if hesitant, and it caused him to lean even closer.

It was so close. You were so close. You had been before, but never like this. Never in the way he wanted.

He wanted you so badly.

And you were right there. Looking at him with those eyes, with a soft, tender smile, and with an expression he didn't recognize.

He knew that was an invitation. You were always an open book, and your body language was no different.

And it wasn't the first time you did so.

There were many times when you looked at him. Your eyes trailing over his face. Your gaze went downwards, lingering before you snapped out of it and looked away.

He always saw it, always knew it was there, but he just chose to ignore it. He wasn’t in the right mind, then. He was just another broken man, struggling to get by, trying his best.

Trying to find some meaning in his life.

But, even now, he was still hesitant. Even after coming all the way here and making his intentions clear, he struggled with it.

"Are you sure?"

Because you were so much better than him.

Because he could still remember the day the two of you met. How much of an asshole he was, how rude, how angry.

It wasn’t until the seventh time you approached him that he realized that he had met someone who genuinely, wholeheartedly cared.

It wasn't until the twentieth time you approached him that he finally accepted it.

He could never forget the way you smiled and spoke to him, even though he had given you no reason to.

"Hi, Logan!"

You would say.

"Good morning!"

You would wave.

"Have a nice day, Logan."

You would nod, even though the man himself chose to ignore you. Goddamn it. You were so much better than him.

Much purer. Much more innocent.

You had a heart of gold, and a soul as white as snow. You were so good, so kind, and the thought of soiling you, of ruining your light with his darkness, it scared him.

It was the sole reason he didn't give in, even now, with you offering yourself to him.

He didn't want to ruin you.

"Yes."

No hesitation. No second thoughts.

Your eyes were so kind. So full of love, and the same emotion reflected back in his own.

But, even with the clear sign of assurance, he still felt the need to create one last line of defense.

With the hand against the door, he peeled it back enough to have your eyes catch sight of the fist it made.

In a millisecond, he unleashed his claws and slammed his fist against the door, the sharp adamantium easily slicing through the wood, causing the door to crack.

And, yet, no reaction. Not a single flinch, not a wince, not even a hitch of breath.

You weren't afraid. Not at all. Even as the claws were mere inches from your face, you weren't scared.

The corners of your mouth twitched. Upwards, and it soon bloomed into a bright smile.

He retracted his claws, and gave you another once-over, just to be sure, and you responded by lifting your hand, grasping the metal chain hanging from his neck.

Your fingers grazed against the cool metal, and your smile softened before turning into a small grin.

"For a man who states he isn’t scared of anything, you sure have a lot of defense mechanisms, Logan."

Teasing. That was a new one for you.

He liked it.

"Say it again." Now, finally, you showed a different expression. Confusion mixed with curiosity. You were wondering what he meant. "My name."

"Logan."

For you, his actions were mere seconds. You had no time to process the feeling of his breath against your lips. The feeling of his stubble tickling your skin. The feeling of his warm, dry lips pressed against yours.

But, for him, it was a slow, steady motion. He took his time. He pulled you closer, his hands moving from the door and cupping the back of your head and your waist.

The kiss was soft. Gentle. Nothing rushed.

He held you like you were fragile. Like you were made of porcelain and could break at any moment. He could, theoretically, but he would rather go through Cassandra’s entire repertoire of torture than hurt you.

He lifted you up. Your legs wrapped around his waist, and your arms around his neck, his own pulling you closer, his fingers digging into your skin.

You tasted exactly how you were. Pure. Sweet.

Like heaven.

He was sure he was leaving that of the bitter alcohol he had downed on your lips, but you didn't seem fussy about it.

Not that he could focus on anything else, anyway.

He was too distracted by the way his tongue danced with yours.

Too focused on the taste of your mouth.

Too distracted by the way your hands made themselves a home in his wet hair. They would tug every once in a while, releasing a groan he hadn’t known was there.

He was too distracted to care.

He was too lost in your scent. Wade always called him that character from that shity vampire movie due to his nose.

He always disagreed until you happened to mention the resemblance. Then, and only then, did he see the logic.

And you saw the logic here, too—the logic of how good you melted together. Experiencing it now made him question his decision to stay away.

If it was always going to be this good, this intoxicating, he should’ve done it a long time ago.

He should've taken the chance.

It would've saved the two of you a lot of frustration, and a lot of headaches.

But it didn't matter. He was here now.

And, as his foot broke into the door, mouth still latched onto yours, with him figuring his way about your apartment, he thought:

It doesn't matter.

As long as I’m here.

As long as you’re in my arms.

It doesn't matter.

Fortunately, that meant he didn’t have to wake up to that toupee-stapled face every morning, as he had so dreadfully imagined.

Unfortunately, it also meant that the next time he saw Wade, he would have to deal with him talking his ears off about what had transpired.

But, for now, he could live with that.

He was more focused on the fact on making sure you weren’t regretting your choice.

Because he sure as fuck didn’t.