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matchingbatbites · 4 days ago

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The woman is fucking stunning. A goddess amongst mortals, a vision sent from the heavens to bless any who may see her. Eddie could honestly go on, but she has to return her focus to the man currently standing at the counter and not the beauty that just walked through the door.

"Here's your change," she says as she passes over the few coins and receipt. "Pickup is at the end of the counter, and they'll call your name when it's ready.

The man gives Eddie his thanks before walking away, and then Aphrodite incarnate is stepping up to the counter. God, she's even more beautiful up close. The slant of her nose, the artful swoop of her chestnut hair - the twin moles on her cheek that are eerily familiar for a reason Eddie can't quite place.

"Welcome to Black Roast Café, can I have a name for your order?"

"Hi there," the woman says with a soft smile, and god, Eddie feels bad for ever making fun of Jerry Maguire. You had me at hello, indeed. "Uh, Stevie is fine."

Eddie nods and types the name into the system. "Okay, Stevie, what can I get you?"

The woman - Stevie - doesn't even look at the board before she rattles off her order. "Can I please get a large, iced caramel latte, with three shots of espresso, a pump of white chocolate, and extra whip? Oh, and a butterscotch blondie."

Eddie's brain shudders to a halt. The order is specific, unique, and it's one she's heard before, from- well if she's being honest, from the only man that's ever made Eddie question her lesbianism.

Steve had been so beautiful and so kind. He was her absolute favorite customer before he'd moved away two years ago, following his best friend when she transferred to a different university to complete her master's. Eddie had mourned just a little, had grieved the loss of sunshine he brought to her days.

Eddie's eyes snap to the two moles on the woman's cheek and everything clicks into place. "Oh shit! You're back!" she says, her filter absolutely failing her. Stevie's smile fades a bit, replaced with a tinge of nervousness as she shifts in place.

"Oh, uh, I didn't- I wasn't expecting you to-"

"Remember you?" Eddie cuts in as she finally punches the order into the register. "Honestly, your order is a hard one to forget. Clearly I was right about all that sugar going to your hips."

It's a gentle tease, one she used to make back when- before, because the order really is just so sweet. It works the way Eddie hoped it would, because Stevie just laughs softly and smooths her hands over her full, curvaceous - fuck, Eddie, head out of the gutter - her hips.

"Yeah, I could probably stand to cut back a little, huh?"

"Don't you dare," Eddie retorts, offended at just the suggestion. "If anything I encourage more, because you're- you look amazing, actually."

The woman blushes, so pink and pretty, and bites into her lower lip the way Eddie wants to. "You think so?" she asks as she hands her card over to Eddie.

"Uh, totally. Like, you were attractive before - and that's coming from a lesbian - but now you-" Eddie pauses, taking a second to run the card as she shrugs. "You're like, glowing. And it only makes you more beautiful."

There's no response from Stevie as the receipt prints, and it's not until Eddie is handing back the card that she sees the stunned look on Stevie's face, her flush even darker. Fuck, that might have been too much.

Before Eddie can apologize though, Stevie takes her receipt and blurts out "I think you're hot."

Huh?

"You do?" Eddie asks, and Stevie nods.

"I've always thought you were hot. But you have the little-" She points to where Eddie's nametag is, to the little lesbian flag sticker that she stuck on it. "The sticker, and like- My best friend, Robin? She's also a lesbian, and she's talked about how annoying it is when guys hit on her and I didn't want to be like that, so I never said anything."

God, Stevie's just as sweet as she used to be, and much more considerate than Eddie even knew. She probably wouldn't have minded getting hit on by Steve at the time, and now that Stevie is standing before her, more beautiful than she's ever been and claiming that she finds Eddie attractive? Well, there's no way Eddie can't make a move.

"How long are you in town?" Eddie asks.

"Oh, uh, we just moved back, actually. Robin finished her master's program and got a job at a local museum translating documents and artifacts."

"Okay, that's cool as hell and I definitely want to hear more about that, but first- Do you want to go out with me? Like, on a date?"

The question seems to surprise Stevie, and it takes her a second to process it. "Are you sure? Even though I'm-"

"The most beautiful woman I've ever seen and way out of my league? Yeah, I'm pretty sure, sweetheart. And I'm not above begging if I have to."

Stevie blushes again and oh, Eddie is already addicted to the way it floods her cheeks, is in love with how alive, how happy she looks. "Then yeah, I'd really, really like that." She grabs a pen from the nearby cup and scribbles her number on the back of her receipt before passing it to Eddie. "Call me when you're off?" she asks, and Eddie nods, beaming.

"The moment I clock out," Eddie promises, and Stevie giggles - giggles! Stevie's name is called and Eddie is thankful that the store is practically empty, because for a second there she genuinely forgot where she was.

Stevie gives her a wink and a "Talk to you later, Eddie," and Eddie barely waits for her to leave the store before she's adding Stevie's number into her phone.

"Okay," Chrissy says as she slides up beside Eddie. "Who is she and how did you get her number so easily?"

Eddie grins as she saves the new contact under Stevie 🩷🌹😍 "That, darling Christine, is my future wife."

#loosely inspired by a tweet i saw the other day #steddie ficlet #steddie #sapphic steddie #fem eddie munson #transfem steve harrington #joey writes

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hrrtshape · 7 days ago

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insane, dream-like things that were normal in my better cr . . . in other words, what it was like being part of the 1%

i never carried cash : i didn’t need to. if i ever found myself in a situation where cash was required, idk, a farmer’s market or bribing someone, i’d just apple pay!?

i never waited for anything : reservations were booked months in advance. lines were always skipped. at clubs we just walked right in. theme parks? VIP passes only. i have never stood in a queue longer than 90 seconds in my life...or...in my better cr.

my closet was bigger than a new york apartment : and everything was colour-coded. yep. yep !!!

i never read price tags : not because i was being reckless, because i simply did not need to know. it was always fine.

if i wanted something, i got it : saw a dress in a magazine? had it by the next morning. craved a specific croissant from a bakery in paris? it was flown in. life had no delays.

luxury was so normal i had to actively remind myself it wasn’t : by the 13th day, i would have moments, small ones, where i’d be like, " wait, not everyone has their own perfume custom-blended by a french artisan? " and then i’d move on.

the ‘poor kid’ still had a trust fund. . . they just had less in it.

errands? what errands? dry cleaning, post office, buying toothpaste. these were not my problems.

skincare was medical : not just a ‘good moisturiser’ situation, i mean dermatologist-designed, prescription-only, lab-created serums. my facials involved lasers. my face was someone’s full-time job.

my mom had a florist on retainer : fresh-cut flowers appeared in my room like magic. i never asked for them. they just were.

celebrity run-ins were painfully normal : “oh yeah, we had dinner next to tilda swinton last night.” “who?” WHO?

we never parked our own cars : valet, always. i had a friend who didn’t even know how to use a parking metre.

there was no such thing as ‘saving up’. in those two weeks i never thought, “hmm, should i buy this now or wait till christmas when i get 50 euros from my grandma?” PFTTTTT.

everyone had a ‘family office’ : financial advisers, lawyers, accountants. my money was managed. someone in my school had three.

coffee orders were wildly specific : not ‘latte with oat milk’ specific. i mean custom-roasted beans, flown in from a single farm in costa rica, brewed at a precise temperature, delivered in a monogrammed cup.

doctors made house calls : i have not seen the inside of a waiting room. ever. feeling sick? someone arrived.

vacation homes weren’t a flex, they were a given : there’s the paris apartment (1st arrondissement, obviously), the villa in lake como, the chalet in gstaad. the only real estate question was, “are we summering in capri or st. barths?

your signature scent is impossible to buy : it’s either a discontinued hermès perfume from the ’70s that you miraculously still source, or a custom blend from a perfumer who only takes five clients a year.

flying commercial is a horror story, not an option : tsa? baggage claim? delays? these are foreign concepts. you had a netjets membership at the very least, but most likely, you have a family jet with an interior designed by someone who also did a yacht.

your tastebuds have standards : your daily coffee comes from a faema e61, your eggs are from a private farm, and your idea of a snack is burrata flown in from puglia that morning. did i mention my private school had michelin chefs?? yea.

you own art. like, real art : not prints. not posters. actual, museum-worthy pieces that are either inherited or sourced through galleries that don’t even have websites.

most people don’t know what anything costs : a gallon of milk? no idea. a metro ticket? couldn’t tell you. you swipe, tap, sign, and never check.

you don’t shop in stores like normal people : you go to private showrooms, have pieces sent to your home, or shop off-runway. waiting in line… horrendous.

i’ve had a ‘house account’ somewhere : a boutique, a jeweller, a tailor. places where you don’t pay on the spot, just ‘put it on the account’ and settle later.

i was taught how to eat properly : which fork for what course, how to use a butter knife, the correct way to hold a wine glass. it’s not something i learned. it’s something i absorbed from watching adults at endless dinners, benefits, and polo events.

i don’t remember learning how to ski or ride horses : because i was doing it before i was fully conscious. i have childhood photos in full equestrian gear, little skis strapped to my feet in gstaad or zermatt. it’s just something i always did.

an art education by osmosis : grew up hearing adults talk about rothko, basquiat, and duchamp in casual conversation. dragged to the louvre and the tate before i could even read. instinctively know the difference between an original and a print.

i have a family lawyer on retainer : and not because i ever committed a crime. they exist to handle things. NDAs, reputation management, keeping your name out of the papers. they know where the bodies are buried, metaphorically (or not).

most families’ wealth is so old and so layered in offshore accounts that even they don’t fully understand it : trust funds? sure, but also shell companies in the caymans, art holdings in geneva, real estate portfolios under LLCs. money isn’t in banks. it’s spread across continents.

most parents’ have had affairs with each other for decades, and it’s not even a scandal anymore : it’s just part of the ecosystem. marriages aren’t about love, they’re alliances. the wives turn a blind eye, the husbands keep it discreet, and the real betrayal is talking about it.

i’ve been name-dropped in a deposition : it was a divorce case. i was never involved, but my name was adjacent to power, so it got dragged in. the case was settled out of court, of course.

most families has multiple passports : not for fun, not for aesthetics. because sometimes you need an exit strategy. a villa in capri, a château in france, a penthouse in dubai. doors are always open, should you ever need to disappear.

i’ve seen actual generational feuds play out in real time : my parents have enemies. their parents had enemies. the grudges go back decades, and nobody even remembers what started it.

i grew up around people who have gotten away with actual crimes : white-collar, mostly. insider trading, fraud, tax evasion. but sometimes things darker. people go to rehab, people “retire early,” people take extended trips to monaco until things cool down.

i’ve seen billionaires (and their kids) break down over the pettiest things : a bad seat at a gala, a misplaced monogram on their jet, a slight from someone whose family has less money than theirs. the richer they are, the more fragile they get.

my family has a pr strategy : this is largely because my mom is a ceo of a billion dollar company. and everything is managed. what photos are released, what stories are planted, which journalists are “friendly.” nothing is random.

i know that philanthropy is often just money laundering with better optics : charities set up for tax reasons, “foundations” that quietly funnel wealth back into the family, billionaire donations that conveniently coincide with favourable legislation.

i’ve seen people lose their fortunes overnight : one wrong deal, one lawsuit, one scandal that sticks, and suddenly, the private jets are getting repossessed. the real old money…they watch from a distance. they never risk everything.

i know that some billionaires don’t actually have liquid cash : they’re over-leveraged, playing financial gymnastics with their own net worth. yachts, art, mansions. but the second they need actual money? suddenly, things get complicated. this is why everyone in my school donated possessions instead of actual money.

met people who don’t own their clothes : couture is loaned, jewellery is borrowed, yachts are rented to themselves through shell companies. it’s all about optics. they don’t need to own when they can access.

heard rich kids joke about things that would make normal people physically ill : laughing about tax evasion, casually mentioning private rehabs like summer camp, making bets on stocks that could ruin lives.

met billionaires who are bored of being rich : the thrill is gone. the yachts, the jets, the parties. it’s routine. they start chasing danger. high-stakes gambling, extreme sports, secret societies. anything to feel something.

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duckieflix · 2 years ago

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♡ ୨`kusuo saiki`୧

☆ ⸝⸝ "i thought you coming here was a one time thing", she raised an eyebrow. "just make my coffee."

kusuo saiki x reader

warnings: swearing, toritsuka.

monthly allowance. something saiki had very little trouble obtaining but had almost too much trouble trying to spend. usually he would buy a cup or two of coffee jelly but unfortunately the store had sold out. they said they would receive their next shipment in a week, but he don't feel like waiting that long.

saiki searched online for cafes that sold affordable coffee jelly and stumbled across a store that looked appealing. joyous day cafe. it had just opened up a few weeks ago and had already become a hit, they sold cutesy deserts and of course, coffee. now, he doesn't usually approach populated areas such as this one, however their coffee jelly had amazing reviews and was even sold for an even better price.

the place was, surprisingly, not as busy as saiki initially thought. the exterior was made of brick, painted an off white colour. there was pink and white striped shades above the windows and the sign was small and hung on the wall. saiki debated on whether to enter not, it was still pretty early in the day which meant it could still get busy over time. he would have turned away then and there but as he turned on his heel a familiar face peered down at him.

"oh hey buddy!", nendo grinned down at the pink haired boy who internally grimaced at his presence. he should’ve just waited for the next shipment to get to the stores. “you goin’ in? let’s go together!”

saiki was about to shake his head but was stopped by another voice that added to his demise, “saiki? you’re here?” teruhashi. great.

all he wanted to do was taste this coffee jelly and go home. but of course, fate had different plans. soon he was joined by kaido, hairo, yumehara and toritsuka. this coffee jelly better be worth it.

once they finally entered the cafe, they sat at a large booth that had soft pink seats. saiki was stationed between nendo and hairo, he was thankful the seats were large enough for at least a small amount of space to be between each person.

a waitress walked up to them, a small smile on her face. she adorned a white button up shirt, black mini skirt with a frilly apron over it and black mary janes with frilly socks. her h/c hair was in a messy low bun and she held a pen and notepad in her hands. everyone immediately recognised her, it was y/n l/n from their class.

“oh! hey guys, fancy seeing you here!”, she smiled her eyes scanned the table and beamed at the familiar faces.

now surprisingly, saiki didn’t mind y/n’s existence as much as the others. only because y/n didn’t put in too much effort into being around him. she was very casual and didn’t smother him with unwanted attention like everyone else, for that he was thankful. their interactions were short, nothing more than a quick hello or a quick conversation about whatever was going on in class but it only lasted a few words.

“what can i get you guys?” y/n clicked her pen.

everyone began ordering, they all ordered the most popular or random dishes. bear shaped tarts, paw print waffles, galaxy tea? it was all so bizarre.

of course, saiki ordered his simple serving of coffee jelly. however, another item on the menu caught his eye. it was called the psychic special. obviously it was just a fun name but he couldn’t help but feel intrigued by the name. the small description stated it was a latte that had a random choice of latte art, if you guessed what the latte art was, you’d get your order half off.

y/n simply nodded and said she’d be back with their orders. toritska’s eyes wandered a little too far down for saiki’s liking, his gaze grazing against the back of y/n’s thighs. "who knew l/n was such a hottie? with legs like that she should be model!". these thoughts irritated saiki so, with enough force to inflict pain, yet not too much as to cause a scene, saiki kicked the purple headed male’s shin. when he yelped in pain, saiki smirked.

"perv"

the group began to babble about the cafe’s interior and admired the many cutesy decorations splattered everywhere. meanwhile, saiki had taken notice of a glass case that had a variety of hot steaming treats aligned neatly next to each other. it was right next to the register and also next to the machine that made the coffee, which happened to be where y/n was.

“hey saiki,” she smiled, “i saved you a small booth over by the corner, thought you’d want some peace and quiet away from that bunch” she pointed over to the group of teens that had suddenly started an arm wrestling match. currently, nendo was on a winning streak.

“you’re an angel in disguise, l/n” saiki nodded at her with his usual stoic expression.

“just doing my job!” y/n gave him a thumbs up before her expression turned quizzical, “what’s up with you coming here? not that i mind, just doesn’t seem like a saiki kinda place”

saiki continued to look at the treats through the shiny glass, “me being here is a one time thing, don’t get used to seeing my face.”

y/n just wordlessly nodded with a smile as he hobbled over to the booth that she saved. it was in a plant covered corner, there was a bookshelf to the left and a window to the right. it only had two chairs, one was occupied by saiki and the other was vacant. in between was a brown circle table. perfect.

a few minutes passed before y/n approached saiki with his order on a circular tray. a glass with a small white ribbon looped around the stem sat neatly in front saiki, the brown gelatin dish smiled up at him, a swirl of whipped cream sat atop the dessert. y/n placed a mug with a small umbrella like cover over the top that saiki assumed contained his 'psychic special'.

"now as you probably guessed, if you guess the latte art, you get your entire order for half of the original price" she slid the tray underneath her arm as she awaited saiki's response.

now obviously this was just a fun game that some people would play, a game of chance. except, this little game was nothing to saiki, being psychic and all, this was just way too easy.

"its a heart" he bluntly stated.

y/n lifted the cover to reveal indeed, it was a heart. she smiled at him warmly, "you're one of the first customers to get that right, good job saiki" she left his table after explaining she would be back with his bill. at this point, the cafe might as well be a restaurant.

when she left, saiki couldn't help but look at her longingly as she walked away. she was definitely one of the more tolerable ones, he couldn't believe he actually enjoyed her presence.

scooping up a chunk of the coffee jelly, he plopped the serving into his mouth and nearly melted at the taste. it was just the right amount of sweet and bitter, the cream made the jelly smoother than regular jelly. it was like heaven!

"holy shit"

after saiki had paid for his order, he waved goodbye to y/n.

"see you at school saiki! thanks for stopping by!" she saved at him, it was a miracle she didn't see the obvious flush of his cheeks. then again, saiki probably cooled himself down before anything could make an appearance.

"buddy! where were you?! we were so worried!" oh.

saiki had been so caught up in enjoying his meal that he forgot about the problems that awaited him. they seemed to have been standing outside waiting for his arrival, how dedicated. they all expressed their worry for his sudden disappearance which made his once amazing mood slightly falter.

they all started down the bricked path, saiki taking one final glance at the cafe. he looked at the building longingly, a strange warm feeling pooling inside of him. he had never felt something like this before, best to not do anything about it.

the bell that hung on the door frame rung throughout the mostly empty cafe, alerting the h/c haired girl behind the counter.

“welcome to joyous day, how may i-“ she stopped herself “saiki?”

our pink protagonist smiled fondly at y/n, something that was never seen. he adorned a pale blue polo shirt and black jeans. something casual yet classy for his visit.

“i’ll get what i ordered last time please” saiki pointed at his usual order on the small menu board, earning a skeptical look from the girl opposite him. she simply nodded.

she started to prepare the hot drink, although her eyes never left the psychic. her cheeks glowed at him, her heart rate picking up slightly. she never took him for the kind of person to become a regular at this establishment, she took him for a simplistic guy. not that she was complaining, if he was here a lot more she’d actually look forward to coming to work. unbeknownst to her, kusuo was feeling something similar.

“i thought you coming here was a one time thing?” she raised a brow.

“just make my coffee”

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sirenedeslily · 2 months ago

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VIDEO OBSESSION〻ᯇ # matthew sturniolo

✦ SEARCHING FOR PROFILES… two results found !

result ONE out of TWO — @FallenAngels

Y/N GREENBLATT, streamer known for her gaming skills and pretty visuals. seven stars cigarette. moon during a snowstorm. mtl › nyc. thé matcha 26. nyx cold brew lip liner. ‘03 stargirl. coy. cinephile. back tattoos. vanilla vodka infused. alluring. chrome heart uggs. silver jewelry. white orchid. dazed. tangled & wired headphones. black cat. sirene gaze. sullen girl by fiona apple. sweet talker. guarded. shows care in subtle ways. handwritten letters. sensitive. classic black eyeliner, smudged like a memory. mushishi. overpriced coffee. blue velvet (1986). her dream collab? a limited-edition hoodie with cibo matto album art, designed by a tumblr artist she once reblogged. midnight ‘silent hill 2’ streams.

VICTORIA WALKER, cheetah print. manicured nails. dean blunt. monchhicci. started off streaming with y/n, now focusing on her music. tumblr girl gone global. fur boots. london › nyc. betty boop. tom ford vanilla sex. pocket-sized camcorder. ‘01 baby. rick owens. reclusive but magnetic. spider lily. ipod nano. minecraft. angels by a$ap rocky. paradise kiss. 11:11. chrome heart grills. dream collabs? yves tumor, peggy gou, and a track with a.g. cook that’s “still in the works.” mismatched tiffany bracelets. unreleased a$ap mob.

AERI UCHINAGA, pink-haired enigma. macbook photobooth. mean lesbian. twitch streamer turned cultural icon. cherry blossom. prettiestproblem on and offline. perfect blue (1997). harajuku streetwear. retired scene kid. björk. self-released ep titled “petal circuit”—a mix of shoegaze and hyperpop with haunting vocals. tokyo › nyc. widowmaker main. paranoia agent soundtrack. byredo’s blanche. ‘00 doll. two weeks by fka twigs. synth lab streams with modular glitches. dating ning yizhuo; model. domo.

HAMZAH SALEH, slush puppie. bone comics. vintage quiksilver tees. duct-taped backpack. messy. tony hawk fingerboards. his youtube history? “how to ollie without looking lame”. polar bears. co-runs slushy noobz; a youtube channel. created a subreddit called r/CherrySlushiesAnonymous. circa ‘02. napoleon dynamite (2004). cherry airheads. sega dreamcast he won’t shut up about. ck one. spider-man pez. xbox 360. unbrushed curls. owns a lego keychain of marah; his girlfriend. scrawny by wallows. steve lacy.

MARAH ADEL, doll eyes. celestial paradox. possession (1981). iced lavender lattes, leaves the last sip untouched “for the spirits”. heaven by marc jacobs. medieval angelology. ethel cain. ‘03 angel. tattoo artist of the hidden soul, her studio, melancholie, drips in velvet, candied amethyst light, and the faint hum of dusty jazz vinyl. etruscan art. dario argento films. night drives to nowhere. secretly hid a chipped rose quartz under hamzah’s bed. antique heart lockets. soft leather boots. faded polaroids. sparse. mtl › nyc. messy bangs. labdanum no. 3. seperpentskirt by cocteau twins.

back to masterlist! - profile two @ChromeHearts

🖥️𓈒ིུ✧꫶᳜᳝͟ᰭ✿⃨ TRENDING NOW ! matt sturniolo was known for many things: his striking looks, his dominance in the gaming world, and his complete inability to keep his cool around beautiful women. so it’s almost poetic—almost—that his fiery temper explodes during an intense fortnite match, broadcasted live to thousands, only to discover later that the player who completely shattered his pride was y/n greenblatt, one of the most beloved streamers in the community—and undeniably beautiful.

𝒢𝜚 💭 ࣪ ✸ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ∿ plsplsplspls send asks about these characters !!!

TAGLIST ( open ) ; @carvedtits @et6rnalsun @wovenribbons @flouvela @waitforyrlove @elizabebabe @ncm9696 @marrykisskilled @l34n @sturniolossss @lovingregulusblack @cl1tlover3000 @mattslolita @mattssgf @le4hsblog @brvtall @mattscoquette @chratts-left-ball @jetaimevous @angelesqve @starlace111 @secretlocket @starkeyszn @etherealval @slut4chriss @star-yawnznn @nickmillersn1gf @sturnsmia @tastesousweet @strnilolover @xoxo4chrisss @ifwdominicfike @emely9274 @maggot3647 @fratbrochrisgf @2augustsago @sturn777

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osohchoso · 2 months ago

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Blood and Chains

Chapter Two- Fresh Air

Choso x F!Reader

Previous | Chapter Index | Next

Content: fluff, some backstory, reader is an art student, obsessive thoughts, wrong place at the right time, forming crushes, multiple POV

One week has passed since the scary day you spent in Shibuya. Not a second goes by where you don't think about it. The claws of the memory threaten to bring you down, to suffocate you, and each time you think of the stranger asking you to breathe. The vision of him is the only thing keeping you calm.

You took a week off of work, lucky to have such a kind and understanding boss. That's what happens when you're the favorite employee at a local coffee shop. The kind man who runs the café saw pictures on the news after you explained the event and he didn't hesitate to give you a week to rest, both physically and mentally.

The café, Papa Coffee, opened shortly after you moved to Tokyo to attend your art college. You would frequently visit to study and drink one too many lattes in the process. You quickly became their first regular, and soon after, boss man himself asked if you would consider joining their team.

You loved working at the café, there was something almost therapeutic about it. The warm smells, the quiet conversations, the cozy ambience. The owner also let you start displaying your prints to sell inside the shop, which you have been eternally grateful for the extra income that brings in. Recently, you have gotten really good at latte art which has helped bring in a whole new crowd of guests. You take pride in your art, whether that's on paper or in a coffee cup.

Getting a week off class was another story. You had to channel your inner email warrior to fight back and forth with your professor. Sending him links to news articles about what happened in Shibuya that day. Reluctantly, he agreed to let you stay home. Though you had to continue working on your sketchbook to not get too behind.

So you stayed home and focused on your art. Drawing the only thing you could think of, over and over. His face, his beautiful, tattooed face. His bouncy pigtails. His odd uniform. He was the only thing on your mind. You drew him over and over again as if you stopped, you might forget what he looked like forever.

“This is feeling…obsessive” you blush to yourself as you look at your most recent drawings. You only met him once, and he barely said anything to you. You start to feel a little silly and embarrassed, even though you're alone in your room. You close the sketchbook.

I need to get out of this cramped apartment. You think to yourself and decide to visit a quiet hiking trail on the outskirts of the city. You quickly change, zipping up a lightweight jacket and buttoning your cargo pants. Then grab your backpack, stuffing your sketchbook and a small lunch inside. Forcing yourself out the door and into the world once again.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　　˚　　　　 . ★⋆.

You exit the cab, thanking your driver, and take in the scenery unfolding infront of you. Lush trees frame a path leading up the slight mountain side. It's quiet, other than the occasional bird chirping. You used to visit this spot alot with your friends back in highschool. Suki and Emi never want to hike anymore, they would much rather go out on the town to a new club. You enjoy the clubs as much as them, but you need balance. Not everyday needs to be spent in the chaotic city, sometimes you need to take a breather under a tree or watch the clouds in the sky.

You start walking up the trail, feeling at peace. You are pretty far from civilization, other than that odd religious school everyone makes fun of. That school is not very far from the trail, but you've never seen it yourself. Thinking about it, you've never even met anyone who even attends that school. Maybe it's abandoned? Whatever. You push the thought from your head, focusing on your walk.

After some much-needed fresh air, you find a thick-trunked tree to lean against for a break. You sit down, back pressed against the bark. A small white rabbit sits across the trail, its nose twitching as it sniffs a flower. How cute! You slowly pull your sketchbook out, wanting to recreate this adorable scene on paper.

For the first time in a week you feel…at peace. Not stressing about death or the attack in Shibuya. Not thinking of the stranger with odd fashion sense. Just enjoying the present moment you are in. The spring breeze blows your hair slightly, tickling your nose. The scent of the forest putting you mind at ease. You set down your pencil, still watching the rabbit in front of you, and reach in your bag to pull out your lunch.

You eat a few bites of the sandwich you packed, and begin to nibble on a baby carrot. The rabbit looks over at you, ears standing tall as it blinks. It's almost as if it's looking directly into your eyes. An idea pops in you head. You hold out a carrot.

“Come on” you whisper, willing the rabbit to come close for a treat. It blinks again, sniffing the air. Then it hops, slowly. Each hop closer it pauses to check for its safety. Another hop, and another. Until it's directly infront of you, reaching its little nose out to sniff the offering. Take it, you whisper inside your head. It looks up into your eyes, wondering if it can really trust you and this delicious treat. Time slows as it lifts its pink mouth to reach for the carrot.

It's ears suddenly snap back, eyes widen in fear. It turns its head, looking around, it's almost as if it heard something your human ears couldn't pick up. It turns and runs away at top speed, fluffy legs carrying it far away from your sight. You sigh and throw the carrot into the woods, maybe it will find it later.

What was it running from? Your mind instantly starts to panic, eyes frantically searching the forest for any looming danger. You sit still and shrink against the tree, trying to keep yourself hidden from any incoming threat. Your eyes scan the forest, but nothing. You look down the path, the direction where you came from, still nothing. Then you check the path in front of you, a slight incline leading up to parts of the trail you have not yet explored. A silhouette stands at the top of the incline, looking down at you, his distinct pigtails wave in the wind. It’s him again.

He makes his way down the trail, spotting you, walking straight for you. Your heart pounds against your rib cage as he draws near. Not sure if it's beating hard from fear, nervousness or excitement. You watch as he makes his way toward you, not daring to move. He wears that blue uniform once again, hands in his pockets, his black thick sole shoes crunching on the trail. Standing directly in front of you, reaching out his large hand. You look up at him.

“We have to stop meeting like this” he smirks slightly. You grab his hand, feeling the rough texture of it wrap around yours. Pulling you up on your feet. Both times you have run into this man, you have been sitting on your ass, staring up like an idiot.

“Yeah…I guess you're right.” you flush slightly. You're standing so close to him, the man you have been obsessively thinking about for the past week. This time, you take a moment to notice more details about him. How tall he is, the faint scars visible on his face, the veins on his strong hands…hands that you are still holding. You quickly yank your hand away, feeling weird for allowing your touch to linger with his for so long. “S-sorry” you whisper shyly.

“It's fine, I-” he begins to reassure you, then his face takes a serious turn, his eyes moving like he's tracking something. He turns his back to you as if taking a protective stance to shield you. “Wait here” he instructs sternly. He walks toward the forest, the shadows practically swallowing his figure whole. Holding your breath, confused and slightly scared, but you don't dare move away from your spot.

The few minutes he was away felt like years. When he returns from the shadows of the forest you release the breath you were holding. He walks up to you, unharmed.

“What the heck was that about?” You ask frantically, peering behind him. You will your heart to slow to a normal pace once again.

“It was nothing…just thought I heard an injured cat. But I was wrong.” He speaks with such confidence, but the way he avoids your eyes makes you feel like he's lying. You think about pressing more, wanting to know the truth. Opening your mouth again to object.

“You shouldn't be out here, these woods have been…dangerous lately” he interrupts you before you have a chance to speak. His eyes meet yours, a serious scowl worn on his face.

“...why?” you dare to ask.

“You haven't seen the news reports? Hikers have been going missing in this area.”

“Well…why are you here then?” you question him, raising your eyebrow. If it's really unsafe as he says it is, then he's in danger too. Things aren't adding up.

“Me? I don't need protecting” he scoffs. “I can protect myself just fine” he crosses his arms, a confident smirk spreading across his face.

“I guess I should get going then” you crouch down, stuffing your lunch back into your backpack. He crouches down too, grabbing your sketchbook. He looks over the unfinished drawing, the small rabbit sniffing an even smaller flower.

“Cute…you like to draw?” he asks as he stands back up, his eyes taking in every detail. You stand up next to him and look at the drawing.

“Yeah…I actually go to an art school in Tokyo.” you smile, happy to share a detail about yourself with this stranger. “I still need to finish this one but when I do I think I might sell it as a print.” His eyes continue to roam over drawing, something about the way he looks at it warms your heart. His thumb hovers over the pages. If he turns one page back…oh god if he turns the page! Realization strikes you as you know the previous page contains countless sketches of his own face. How will you explain that! You swiftly reach up and snatch the book out of his hands before he can dare to flip the page. Shoving it deep into the backpack, zipping it closed and swinging it over your shoulder. You look at him, his face frozen in a look of wide-eyed surprise.

“Well…see ya” you wave and begin to power walk away, biting your lip at how weird you must seem to him. Heat creeping across your face once more.

“Hey…let me walk with you!” he calls after you and rushes forward, falling in step beside you as you make your way down the trail. “I gotta make sure you don't fall and hurt your knee again” he smirks. You sigh and slow your pace slightly, walking in silence for a few minutes.

“How is your knee?” he asks softly.

“It's fine. I'm glad I iced it the night I got home or it would have hurt for much longer.” you admit. As the two of you continue to walk, questions unfold in your mind. There are so many things you want to ask him. What happened in Shibuya, what was his role there? Why is he here today? What is with that face tattoo? Who is he? You don’t even know his name and you really don't want to have to wait for a third chance encounter to ask. You stop walking, looking him in the eye. He stops too. You stare into the deep dark depths of his eyes.

“Hey…maybe next time we should meet on purpose?” You bravely ask, though he can hear the nervousness in your voice. He blinks, slightly taken aback by your bold question. You play with the edge of your jacket, needing to give your hands something to do while you await his answer. His face softens, hands reaching into his pants pocket and pulling out a smartphone.

“Sure. Just put your number in and I will text you next time I have a free day” he hesitates, looking at his phone. Then unlocking it and handing it over to you. You take his phone and stare at the home screen. His background is a picture of him and that pink-haired boy you saw a glimpse of in Shibuya. The two are giving each other bunny ears in the photo, wide toothy grins on both of their faces. You look up briefly and compare the picture of the pigtailed stranger to the real version of you in front of you, finding it hard to believe he could even smile that big.

“Oh…that's my little brother” he says warmly when he notices you staring.

“You two look happy” you smile, looking back down at the picture.

“Um…did you put your number in?” he asks awkwardly.

“Where is your contacts app? This is just your home screen” you ask, scanning the phone.

“Oh…sorry. I'm not very good with technology” he laughs sheepishly. He moves to stand right beside you, his chest bumping into your arm slightly. He reaches a hand over and swipes through several screens, messy apps placed haphazardly. He finally finds it, opening it up.

You put your number in, type your name and put a little smiley face next to it. Then hand it back to him. He reads your name out loud, saying it like a question. Wanting reassurance that he pronounced it correctly. You nod.

“That suits you” he gives a small smile as the two of you continue walking down the trail.

“Well…are you going to tell me your name?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. He gives a small laugh.

“Yeah…guess I should. My name is Choso.”

“Choso…” You echo back to him, loving the feel of his name as it rolls off your tongue.

You reach the end of the trail and find yourself at the street you started on. He waves for a cab to come this way.

“I'll text you” he promises, looking away for a moment. “I think it would be good for me to get new friends. I really only have my brother and my coworkers.” he scratches the back of his head as he admits this. The cab pulls near, parking right in front of you. He opens the door for you.

“I look forward to your text then” you smile as you slide into the back seat. He closes the door behind you then speaks to the driver, handing him cash. He's paying for your ride home. You quickly roll down the window “No! You don't have to do that!” you object.

“Too late…it's already done.” he backs up with his hands in the air. “Get home safe” he smiles at you. You watch him as the cab rolls away from him, his form shrinking as you move further and further from view.

The rest of the day, you keep glancing at your phone to check if Choso has sent you any messages. Nothing so far. I should have gotten his number in return! You haven't even thought about that, and now you wait and hope he will send a text. The rest of the day goes by with nothing, maybe he's going to ghost you like the rest of the boys after all.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　Choso's POV　 . ✦　　 . ★⋆.

Choso comes home to his shared apartment with Yuji. He sets his keys on the counter and shouts out “I'm home!” There is no response, Yuji must be out on a mission still or hanging out with Megumi.

Choso enters the kitchen and warms up a few slices of pizza from the other night. As he stands by the microwave, he can't seem to push her face out of his mind. This is twice he's run into her, twice he's had to save her life. This woman is trouble. He shakes his head with a small giggle to himself.

The first encounter, a week ago in Shibuya, she was seconds from being ended by a special grade cursed spirit. If him, Yuji and Megumi didn't arrive when they did then she would have joined those bodies on the sidewalk.

Today too. He's not sure what compelled her to wander into the woods near Jujutsu Tech, but he didn't lie to her about the missing hikers. Though this is all due to a cursed spirit and not some kind of serial killer. He happened to be sent out to track it down today, leading him to her once again. If he wasn't there when he was, that first-grade curse would have ripped her to shreds.

Still, he thinks about her. Not just about how prone to danger she is, but the details that make her her. Those big, beautiful eyes. Her voice, smooth as silk. How her hands felt against his. The way her nose would scrunch up like that bunny she drew in her picture. She is unlike anyone he's ever imagined.

When she said she wanted to see him again, Choso's stomach did flips. He was excited to see her again. To actually get to know her, and hopefully worry less about her fragile human life. He was drawn to her, her smile, her kindness, the way she looked at him like he wasn't a broken monster. He craved all of it.

After his dinner, Choso laid in his bed, looking at his phone. He looks at the contact screen with her name on it. Smiling to himself at the sight of the smiley face next to her name. He stares at the screen, trying to form a mental message of what to send. He steels his nerves, ready to send a simple hello when suddenly he stops. Wait…how do I send a text message again? He frowns at his phone, cursing his lack of technological ability. Guess his text will have to wait until his little brother is back home.

A/N: Sorry if the first few chapters are a bit rough, I wrote these back when I first started writing. I may go back and edit...eventually. Things pick up more in the coming chapters :)

As always, thanks for the love! ❣️

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