#so she might actually be out of character-- | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

leahrintarou · 2 days ago

Note

heyyy!!! i've read through most of your writing and i'm legit obsessed. i know it says your not doing requests rn so if you end up doing this in like a year i don't really mind. could you do fwb for a fem!reader with yuji or some other jjk character? sfw or nsfw or suggestive i don't care, but that would be so cute!!

❀ FWB W/ YUJI ITADORI

synopsis: fwb with yuji, but you both catch feelings despite your promise not to. warnings: college au, barely suggestive, fluff, she/her pronouns, yuji being a cutie pie, "you up?" lol, 2.3k word count. an: the fact that this was in my inbox for so long and I've never gotten the chance to write it until now. so it was borderline ACTUALLY written a year later lmao. i hope you enjoy regardless :') my reqs are open now tho.

y/n’s phone buzzed against the nightstand, the glow of the screen breaking through the dim light of her room. she didn’t need to check—it was always him this late.

yuji: you up?

she stared at the message for a moment, lips pressed together in something between a smile and a sigh. these nights had become a pattern, one they never talked about in daylight, but neither of them seemed to want to stop. she typed back with one hand, the other resting lazily against her stomach.

y/n: door’s open.

it was an invitation, but it never felt like one. more like a habit. like breathing. she tossed her phone aside and leaned back against the pillows, the faint hum of the city outside her window mixing with the quiet of her dorm room. she tried to act like it was no big deal—like his visits didn’t make her pulse quicken, like she wasn’t already anticipating the sound of his footsteps in the hallway.

when the door finally creaked open after a few long minutes, she didn’t need to look up to know it was him. the soft shuffle of his sneakers being kicked off, the rustling of his hoodie as he peeled it over his head—familiar sounds that had started to feel like home in a way she wasn’t sure she liked.

“you always leave your door unlocked like that?” his voice was low, rough around the edges, like he’d been out in the cool night air for too long.

y/n glanced over, meeting his gaze. his hair was a little messy, strands falling over his forehead, and there was that easy grin tugging at his lips—the one that made it harder to keep this casual.

“yeah. for you,” she teased, though it came out softer than she intended.

he leaned against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, eyes dragging over her—bare legs stretched out under the blanket, her oversized shirt slipping just enough to reveal a hint of collarbone. his gaze lingered, but it wasn’t just lust. there was something else. something warmer.

“dangerous habit,” he muttered, but he was already moving toward her, the weight of his steps making the floor creak in that way she’d come to expect.

he sat at the edge of the bed first, like he always did, his thigh brushing against hers through the blanket. his presence was heavy but not suffocating—it was comforting, in that messy, boyish way only yuji could pull off.

“long day?” she asked, her voice quieter now, more familiar.

he nodded, leaning back on his hands, eyes flicking to the ceiling for a moment before settling back on her. “yeah… thought this might help.”

it was honest. it always was with him. that’s what made it hard sometimes.

she shifted closer, the blanket pooling around her waist, their legs barely touching. his eyes dropped to her bare skin, but he didn’t move—not yet. he was waiting, like he always did, for her to close the gap.

her fingers brushed against his, slow, testing. he didn’t pull away. he never did.

“yeah?” she murmured.

his eyes met hers—warm, familiar, but laced with something heavier. “yeah.”

and just like that, the space between them started to disappear.

-----

the next morning came around and y/n was surprised to feel a weight around her waist. she wasn’t expecting it, but she also didn’t mind it. in fact, she craved it. and that feeling alone made her stomach twist with a deep sense of shame.

yuji’s arm was heavy, draped over her like it belonged there, his chest pressed against her back, warm and steady. his breathing was soft, even, still lost in sleep. she could feel his heartbeat against her spine, and for a moment, she let herself sink into it—let herself enjoy the comfort of his presence without overthinking what it meant.

but it was hard not to.

they promised to keep it casual. no strings, no expectations. just late-night texts and fleeting touches when the weight of their lives became too much. it was supposed to be simple. but the moment he stayed that first night—exhausted from his assignments, passing out before he could pull his clothes back on—that simplicity started to unravel.

it kept happening after that. once turned into twice. twice turned into something like a routine. and now, she woke up more often with him here than without.

it scared her. but it also made her feel safe in a way she hadn’t expected.

she shifted slightly under his arm, trying not to wake him, but he stirred anyway. his hand tightened instinctively around her waist, fingers pressing into the curve of her stomach. he let out a low, sleepy groan, face nuzzling into the crook of her neck.

“n/n… it's too early,” he mumbled, voice thick with sleep.

y/n froze for a second, but then she relaxed, forcing a quiet laugh. “you say that every time.”

he grinned against her skin, eyes still closed. “’cause it’s always true.”

his fingers brushed against her bare skin beneath the hem of her shirt—his shirt, she realized with a flush of heat. sometime during the night, she must’ve grabbed it from the pile of clothes he left here. another bad habit. another line blurred.

she shifted to face him, their noses nearly brushing. his eyes finally cracked open, warm and soft in the early light. there was no teasing smirk this time, no playful comment. just him, looking at her like he was exactly where he wanted to be.

and that was the problem.

“you gotta get up soon?” he asked, voice quieter now.

she shook her head, trying to ignore the way her heart twisted. “nah… you?”

he hesitated, then shrugged. “not really.”

they stayed like that, neither moving, both pretending this wasn’t more than it was.

but it felt like more. it felt like too much.

her chest tightened with the weight of it, but she swallowed it down. because if she said something—if she admitted that maybe she liked waking up next to him, that maybe she liked him more than she should—it would ruin this. whatever this was.

so, she smiled instead, reaching up to brush his messy hair out of his face. “guess you’re stuck with me a little longer then.”

his grin returned, but it was softer this time. “good. i like being stuck with you.”

y/n was used to yuji’s honesty, especially when it came to him expressing his feelings in friendships, but for some reason, she felt like this was different. y/n blamed her exhaustion, blurry brain, and lack of caffeine for these thoughts. yuji was always friendly to pretty much everyone so why would she be an exception? "y/n." yuji's voice sounded as if it faded in and when she looked at his expression of confusion, she realized that he had probably called her name more than once.

"sorry i spaced out."

"i can see that." he laughed teasingly. "are you done spacing out now?"

"probably not, but what's up?" she questioned. yuji was quiet for a moment. very out of the ordinary. there was a nervous smile on his lips and y/n’s anxiety only heightened at his unusual behavior. "i was contemplating last night and i came over here to you to finally make a decision..." he started. y/n could hear her own heartbeat and she hoped that it wasn't loud enough for yuji to hear too. what excuse could she use to give reasoning behind her fast pacing heartbeat?

"which was?" she asked, voice just above a whisper. "i think we should call this whole friends with benefits thing off. not because of you or anything. i just made a shitty mistake that i can't undo no matter how hard i try."

y/n was silent and it felt piercing. what could his reasoning be? what if he caught onto her recent behavior when it came to her interactions with him? extended eye contact, those poor excuses to create physical contact, or even the need to speak to him about anything and everything. he probably reassured her and took the blame to soften the blow of this sudden conversation.

"do you mind telling me what that mistake was?"

yuji sat up, the blanket falling from his body and revealing his bare half. y/n took a glance at him before her eyes darted back up to his eyes. yuji turned away, embarrassment all over his features. "I'd put a shirt on...but.." he smiled nodding towards the shirt that y/n was currently wearing. she would've given it to him in a heartbeat if it weren't for the fact that she wore nothing underneath. "no it's fine. I'm sorry. i can go change into my own and give it back-"

"no, no. seriously its fine. i like when you wear my clothes." he smiled. his words came out with that familiar teasing sounding tone and y/n felt a wave of butterflies in her stomach. "but to answer your question, i kinda sorta broke our no strings attached rule."

y/n felt as if her ears were playing tricks on her but when’s yuji continued, she couldn't deny what was being spoken right in front of her. "i definitely have some strings attached. i know it's sudden and we both agreed to not let it happen but you know..."

y/n’s heart raced as yuji’s words lingered in the air, and for a moment, the room was filled with a heavy silence. she could see the nervousness creeping into his eyes, the way he shifted slightly, as if unsure of himself.

she had always been able to read him, but this time, something was different. something was off. yuji’s usual confidence seemed to be faltering, and it made her hesitate. she wanted to say something, anything, but the words wouldn’t come.

“y/n?” he said quietly, voice tinged with uncertainty. his gaze dropped to her lips, then quickly shifted away. “i know this is sudden, and i’m probably messing things up. i get it if you don’t feel the same, but...”

y/n’s breath caught in her throat as she processed his words. did he really think she didn’t feel the same? wasn’t it obvious by now? all the lingering touches, the way her heart fluttered when he was near. but still, a part of her hesitated. did he really want this? or was this just another one of those moments where they both pretended to be okay with the casual thing, despite everything?

she shifted slightly, her body inching closer to him. the tension between them thickened. yuji’s eyes flicked back to hers, and there it was again—self-doubt. he thought she didn’t want him back.

she wanted to kiss him. her body screamed for it. but her mind was still tangled in confusion, in fear of ruining the fragile space they had created. she stayed frozen, her lips parted slightly as she debated whether or not to make the first move.

yuji noticed. he must've seen it in her eyes—the hesitation, the uncertainty—and his face softened with a hint of frustration, but also something deeper. something vulnerable.

“y/n...” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath. he reached out, gently cupping her chin to bring her face closer to his. “i told you... i like you. not just as a friend. i’ve liked you for a while now. i wouldn’t have stayed over... i wouldn’t have kept coming back if it was just some casual thing for me.”

her heart skipped a beat. the words he had said, so simple and clear, finally broke through her hesitation. he liked her back. she had been afraid—afraid to be too obvious, afraid to let him see the depth of what she felt. but now, hearing him say it, hearing the sincerity in his voice, it was impossible to deny.

without thinking, y/n leaned in, closing the small gap between them. her lips brushed against his softly at first, testing, as if still unsure. but then yuji’s hand slid to the back of her neck, pulling her closer, deepening the kiss.

it was urgent but soft, and it quickly deepened, growing more desperate with every passing second. his hands found their way to her waist, pulling her closer, his body pressing against hers as if he couldn’t get enough of her.

y/n’s breath caught in her throat as she kissed him back, a mix of emotions flooding her—relief, desire, something warmer she hadn’t expected. the kiss was messy, full of unspoken words, and every time she felt him pull away for a breath, he came right back to her, as if there was no place else he wanted to be.

yuji moaned into their kiss, feeling as though it was the first and last time he'd ever get to experience something so exhilarating. she pulled back and yuji practically chased after her lips for a small peck. his eyes found her own and y/n slightly tilted her head to the side.

y/n smiled softly, her fingers tracing the outline of his jaw as she looked into his eyes, now filled with the same longing she felt. “you’re not messing this up, yuji," she whispered, her voice a little shaky but filled with certainty. "you were never just some casual thing to me."

yuji’s smile returned, but it was softer, more vulnerable this time. “so... we’re not just friends with benefits anymore, then?”

“no,” she murmured, her lips curling into a small, genuine smile. “not anymore.”

his grin widened at that, a playful spark dancing in his eyes. “good,” he said, leaning in for another kiss, this one slower, but no less filled with all the things they hadn’t said yet.

and this time, y/n didn’t hesitate. she let herself get lost in it. especially when his warm hand snaked underneath her his shirt.

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justarkive · 3 days ago

Text

TABLE 3 | JJK ch 3

“For good service, and cute waitresses”

pairing: premilitary!jk x secret fuckbuddy! oc

contents: mild language, no smut (yet), fluff, humour, celeb au, very mild angst, slowburn </3

wc: 6k

this fic is not meant to represent the real jungkook or any other characters mentioned!

taglist: if anyone wants to join pls comment!!

a/n: this fic is going so much better than id thought it would! i love it and cant wait to progress. Nari’s might also come across as mean, but know its in a best friend way and she truly does love oc. ENJOY MY LOVES <3 p.s, all interactions are much appreciated, pls dont be afraid to let me know what you think:)

masterlist | < previous | next >

You find yourself back at Nari’s apartment. These days, it’s the only place you feel like going to. Your own place feeling like a lost cause- clothes piling up, draped over your desk chair you could’ve sworn you cleaned up last week, dishes in the sink that you could’ve sworn you’d washed yesterday. Work has been exhausting, and when you’re not caught up in the bustle of the diner, you’re busy running errands and keeping up with side hobbies, using them as an excuse to avoid everything else.

At least at Nari’s, things feel a little less overwhelming, and it’s easier to forget everything else.

And Nari doesn’t mind, she’d never mind.

She’s in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a glass of wine, her free hand lazily scrolling through her phone. Her TV hums in the background, playing some trashy reality show neither of you are actually watching. You’re curled up on the couch, knees pulled to your chest, fingers absentmindedly picking at a loose thread on the throw pillow in your lap.

You’ve been quiet for way too long, and though you are a quiet person by nature. It’s never been truly quiet with you around Nari.

And Nari notices. Of course she does.

It’s not past a second before she side eyes you over her glass, pausing mid scroll. “Alright” She says, pushing off the counter. “What’s going on with you?”

You blink up at her. “Huh?”

“You look like you just got caught committing a crime,” she says, raising an eyebrow. “Spit it out.”

You shake your head quickly. “It’s nothing.”

Nari stares at you for a second longer, then sighs, putting her phone down on the counter. She’s walking over, the heels of her socks dragging slightly against the floor, and plops down next to you, pressing her shoulder against yours.

You hesitate, fingers tightening around the pillow. The words are there, right at the tip of your tongue, but saying them out loud makes it feel too real.

Nari doesn’t give you the chance to stall any longer. She sets her phone down and walks over, plopping down on the couch next to you. “You’ve been sitting there looking like you’re about to have a breakdown for the past twenty minutes,” she says. “Either you tell me what’s going on, or I start guessing, and you know I have no filter.”

You exhale sharply. “It’s not that serious.”

Nari just stares. “Yeah, okay. So why do you look like you’re about to throw up?”

You press your lips together, debating whether you should even bring it up. It’s stupid. It really is. But the anxiety has been eating away at you since he did it, and if anyone’s going to tell you if you’re being ridiculous, it’s Nari.

You reach into the pocket of your hoodie and pull out a small, crumpled piece of paper. For a second, you just hold it between your fingers, staring at it like it as if that would make it disappear. Then, finally, you place it on the coffee table between you and Nari.

She frowns. “What’s that?”

You swallow. “Jungkook left me his number.”

There’s a beat of silence. Nari blinks. Then she blinks again, leaning forward to get a better look at the paper, like she needs to confirm that you’re not messing with her.

“Wait—Jungkook?”

You nod, heart hammering against your ribs.

“As in the Jungkook?” You nod again, looking at her as if to say: yeah Nari, who else?

Nari lets out a sharp breath, eyes darting between you and the paper. “And you’re telling me this now?” She takes the paper from your hand “Saturday?! Seriously? It’s been 2 days and you’re only telling me now?” She whines, smacking your arm lightly.

You shrug, biting your lip, not trusting yourself to say anything.

Nari stares at you like you’ve lost your mind. “And what exactly is the problem here? Did you text him? Has he shown up to the diner again?”

You bite your lip. “What if it’s a joke?”

Her expression drops into something unimpressed. “What?”

“What if I actually message him, and he laughs in my face? What if this is just some silly game?” You cross your arms, shifting uncomfortably. “Imagine I actually text him, and it turns out he just left it to mess with me.”

Nari looks at you like you just suggested jumping into oncoming traffic for fun. “Are you stupid?”

You blink. “Yes! What- No. Ugh! I dont know?”

“Why the hell would he give you a fake number? Celebrities don’t just do that.” She picks up the paper, waving it in your face. “And Jungkook? He doesn’t seem like the type to waste his time playing games.”

“But—”

“But nothing,” she cuts you off. “I saw the way he was looking at you. That man is not out here giving his number to random women for fun.” She shakes her head. “And even if it was a joke—which it isn’t—you’d at least know. Right now, you’re just sitting here torturing yourself over something you haven’t even done yet.”

You press your lips together, stomach flipping. “I don’t know, Nari.”

“I do know.” She leans back against the couch, arms crossed. “And at the very least, now you can get a heads-up before he randomly shows up again and you dont have to shit your pants every time he does.”

You let out a laugh, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “Yeah, but you saw what happened last time…”

Nari rolls her eyes. “Listen I get that- Crazy fans and shit? Not it, but you could be missing out on something big here.” She shrugs, taking a slow sip of her wine, like this isn’t making your entire brain short-circuit. “Worst case scenario? He doesn’t respond. Best case scenario? Well.” She smirks. “I don’t think I need to spell it out for you.”

You stare at the number again, nerves buzzing under your skin.

Fuck it.

Your fingers twitch as you pick up your phone, opening your messages. You hesitate, heart in your throat.

The phone sits between you and Nari on the couch, untouched. You haven’t stopped staring at it since she made you unlock it, since she made you pull up Jungkook’s number and prove to her that it’s really there. His name isn’t saved, obviously—you’re not that delusional—but it’s there. Sitting at the top of your recents, right where you left it.

And you hate that it’s there.

Nari sighs. “Alright, I literally can’t take another second of this. Either you text him, or I’m throwing your phone out the fucking window.”

Your body jerks up immediately. “I can’t text him.”

She looks at you like you’ve personally offended her. “Yes, you can.”

“No, I actually can’t.” You grab a pillow and shove your face into it. “You do it.”

A scoff. “What? No.”

“Nari, please.” Your voice is muffled, desperate. “I’ll never ask you for anything ever again.”

“You literally will,” she deadpans. “Probably within the next hour.”

“I’m serious.” You peek at her from over the pillow. “Please, just send the first message.”

“You’re being ridiculous. He wouldn’t have given you his number if he didn’t want you to use it.”

“Or maybe he gave it to me as a joke.”

She groans, standing up and dragging a hand down her face. “Oh my fucking God. What is wrong with you?”

“If I message him, and he laughs at me, I’m never leaving this apartment again.”

She rolls her eyes, dropping back onto the couch beside you. “Yeah, because Jungkook has nothing better to do than sit around and make fun of random girls.”

“Exactly.”

Nari grabs your arm, shaking you. “You’re so stupid.”

You let out a strangled sound as she shakes harder, knocking you against the couch cushions. “Nari, stop—”

“No, because you’re actually so stupid. I saw the way he was looking at you.”

You groan extra loud.

Nari shoves you again, this time hard enough that you almost fall sideways. “You are so dramatic.”

“Okay, then you message him,” you whine, turning back to her with wide, pleading eyes. “Please. Just send one text, and then I’ll take over.”

She groans, leaning her head back against the couch. “Fine. But I’m not doing ‘Hi, this is YN.’ That’s lame.”

You nod immediately. “Yeah, no, that’s boring.”

She thinks for a second, then smirks. “What if we go with, ‘Hey, soldier, miss me?’”

You push her. “Stop.”

Nari just laughs. “Or, ooh!—‘I heard boys like you love discipline, so I waited a respectable amount of time before texting. 😉’”

“Im deleting his number.”

“You love me.”

“I don’t.”

She hums, tapping your phone screen. “Okay, what about this: ‘I promise I’m not a stalker, but I did just spend the past two days debating if this was actually your number.’”

You hesitate. “…Okay- Yeah, that’s actually kinda good.”

“Duh.” She types it out and, before you can stop her, presses send.

Your stomach drops. “Nari, what the fuck.”

She throws the phone onto your lap with a smug grin. “Too late.”

You gape at the screen, heart pounding as the message sits there. And keeps sitting there.

Jungkook doesn’t reply immediately.

Which—of course he doesn’t. He’s busy. He’s literally Jungkook. He’s probably off training or singing or whatever idols do in their free time.

Still.

You groan, throwing your head back. “This was a mistake.”

Beside you, Nari pats your head like a disapproving mother. “No, I made a mistake. I should’ve sent, ‘Hey, kookie~, miss me?’”

You nudge her away. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

You kind of do. But now, you’re stuck waiting for a reply.

And it’s already driving you insane.

—

Hours pass.

You and Nari don’t do much of anything—just exist in the same space, like always. The TV plays some random drama you’ve both seen a hundred times before, voices droning on in the background while you scroll through your phone and Nari flips through a magazine she doesn’t actually care about. The comfort of it is familiar, easy. This is why you come here. Why her apartment is the only place you really want to be these days.

But none of it stops your eyes from flicking back to your phone every two minutes.

Still nothing.

Nari notices. Of course, she does.

“Y/n.” She doesn’t even look up from her magazine. “Get it the fuck together.”

You huff. “I am together.”

“No, you’re not.” She turns a page, unimpressed. “You look like you’re waiting for an organ transplant.”

You make a face, shifting to sit on your hands so you physically can’t reach for your phone again. “I just—I don’t get why he hasn’t replied yet.”

“Because he’s Jungkook?” Nari deadpans. “You know, worldwide superstar, busy man, famous guy? Maybe, just maybe, he has other shit to do?”

You grumble, kicking at her leg. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what do you mean?”

You hesitate, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “What if he’s ignoring me?”

Nari groans. “Oh my God. I literally cannot do this with you right now.” She tosses the magazine onto the coffee table and sits up, jabbing a finger at you. “This is what we’re not gonna do, okay? We’re not gonna sit here and spiral. We’re not gonna create insane scenarios in our head. And we’re definitely not gonna act like Jungkook is some high school jock plotting to humiliate you in front of the whole cafeteria.”

You glare at her. “That was a very specific example.”

She shrugs. “I read a lot of Wattpad in my youth.”

“As you should.”

“Anyway.” She leans back, stretching her arms over her head. “Since you clearly can’t function like a normal person right now, I’m declaring a ban on all Jungkook-related thoughts for the next few hours.”

“You can’t ban thoughts.”

“I can in this household.”

You roll your eyes, but you don’t argue. Mostly because she’s right—this whole thing is driving you insane, and if you don’t stop obsessing over it, you’re going to lose your mind before Jungkook even gets a chance to reply.

So, you let it go. Or at least, you try to.

The night continues as it always does. You and Nari switch to watching trashy reality TV, taking turns talking shit about people you don’t know. You fight over the last slice of pizza, which Nari wins, but only because she threatens to lock you out of the apartment. You don’t think she’d actually do it, but you’re not willing to take the risk.

Time slips by unnoticed, and before you know it, the sky outside the window has darkened completely.

“You sleeping over?” Nari asks, stretching her legs across the couch.

You blink at her like she’s just asked something stupid. “Of course, I am. What do you think?”

She smirks. “Good. I was gonna make you stay even if you said no.”

You laugh, throwing a pillow at her. She dodges easily, flipping you off in the process.

And then—your phone buzzes.

Your whole body goes still.

Nari notices immediately, eyes snapping to your phone, and then to you.

“Oh my god,” she says slowly. “Tell me that’s who I think it is.”

You don’t answer. Just stare at the screen like it might disappear if you blink.

Another buzz.

Nari lunges forward, but you snatch the phone before she can grab it. Your hands are shaking.

She bounces impatiently beside you. “Well? Open it!”

Swallowing thickly, you finally unlock the screen.

[ iMessage:]

Unknown Number: Took you long enough.

Unknown Number: Was starting to think you weren’t interested.

You just stare. Your stomach does a weird little flip, your heart picking up speed.

Nari, practically vibrating beside you, grabs your arm. “WHAT DOES IT SAY!?”

You lift your head slowly, meeting her gaze with wide, horrified eyes.

“He’s flirting with me-“

Nari screams.

And just like that, everything is chaos again.

Your brain short-circuits.

Your hands tighten around your phone, fingers pressing into the edges like you’re afraid it might jump out of your grasp. Your breathing is uneven, and you’re pretty sure your heart is going to give out right here, on Nari’s couch, before you even get the chance to respond.

Nari grabs your wrist, shaking you violently. “WHAT THE FUCK?! REPLY.”

“I CAN’T.” You clutch the phone to your chest like it’s some kind of secret government file, eyes blown wide in panic. “OH MY GOD, WHAT DO I EVEN SAY?”

Nari looks at you like you’ve just spoken in an ancient language. “WHAT DO YOU MEAN, WHAT DO YOU SAY? YOU SAY SOMETHING BACK. LITERALLY ANYTHING.”

“No, no, no, I—” You shake your head frantically, scrambling up onto your knees as if somehow getting higher up will help you think better. “If I reply too fast, it’s gonna look desperate.”

Nari throws her hands up. “Desperate for what? A conversation? Bitch, this is not high school! We are adults. We do not play fucking mind games over text like we’re waiting for our crush to message us back like we’re 15!”

You press your palms over your face, groaning into them. “Oh my God, what if this is a joke? What if he’s messing with me? What if—”

“WHAT IF HE’S NOT?” Nari yells, shoving at your shoulder. “What if he actually fucking likes you, you absolute dumbass?”

You glare at her, shoving her back. “DON’T CALL ME A DUMBASS, I’M HAVING A CRISIS.”

“IT’S A STUPID CRISIS.”

The two of you wrestle on the couch for a second, limbs flying, before she overpowers you and shoves you back into the cushions. You huff, staring up at the ceiling, trying to steady your heartbeat.

A few deep breaths. Then another. Okay. You’re fine. You’re cool.

You roll your head to the side, looking at Nari. “What do I say?”

She stares at you, completely done. “You say, ‘Hey, this is me responding to your text message.’”

You groan, throwing an arm over your face. “Be serious.”

“I am being serious.” She snatches your phone right out of your grip, dodging your grabby hands as she holds it above her head. “Look. You’re overthinking. You don’t have to send an essay, just flirt back.”

You peek at her through your arm. “How?”

“Oh my God.” She sighs dramatically, shifting so she’s sitting on her knees beside you. “Okay, let’s workshop this. He said, ‘Took you long enough. Was starting to think you weren’t interested.’” She pauses. “Ooh, that’s kinda sexy.”

“SHUT UP.”

“I’m just saying.”

You groan again, kicking your legs in frustration. “I hate this. Why am I like this? I should just block him.”

Nari slaps your thigh so hard you yelp.

“YOU WILL DO NO SUCH THING.”

You whimper. “Fine. Just—help me.”

She grins, shuffling closer. “Okay. So, we’re going for playful, yeah? Something that keeps the same energy.” She wiggles her eyebrows. “Like, oh? You were waiting for me? That’s kinda cute.”

Your entire body recoils. “EW, no, that sounds so corny.”

She cackles. “Okay, okay. What about, ‘Oh, were you hoping I’d text first? That’s adorable.’”

You blink. “Ugh why are you so good at this?”

“I know.” She flips her hair dramatically. “I am the queen of texting.”

You shake your head, snatching your phone back. “Fine. I’ll say something like that.”

“Good.” She pats your knee. “Now send it.”

Your thumbs hover over the keyboard. Your pulse pounds in your ears. You type the message. Delete it. Type it again. Delete it again. At this point, you’re just spamming letters on your keyboard.

“Nari,” you whisper.

She groans. “What now?”

“…Can you send it for me?”

“ABSOLUTELY NOT.”

You flinch at the volume of her voice. “But—”

“No buts.” She glares at you, unimpressed. “Send it. Now.”

You hesitate for one more agonizing second. And then, taking a deep breath, you hit send.

You both freeze, staring at the screen like it might explode.

The message sits there. Marked as delivered. Silent.

You toss your phone across the couch and bury your face in a pillow.

Nari gasps. “Bitch, what are you doing?”

“I CAN’T LOOK.”

“Oh my God.” She lunges for the phone. “What if he replies? What if he—”

Buzz.

Your whole body seizes up.

Nari screams.

You scream.

Neither of you move.

Buzz.

Another message.

You shoot up so fast your vision goes blurry, scrambling for your phone. Nari practically jumps onto your back, gripping your shoulders as she shrieks into your ear.

You unlock the screen, heart pounding, pulse hammering against your ribs. And then—

[ iMessage:]

Unknown number: Adorable? That’s a new one. You trying to flirt with me?

Your soul leaves your body.

Nari shrieks. “OH MY FUCKING GOD.”

You smack her. She smacks you back. You both devolve into incoherent screaming, kicking your legs and shaking each other like wild animals.

And somewhere in the chaos, it finally sinks in.

Jungkook is flirting back.

This is real.

What the fuck do you do now?

You’re still gripping your phone like it’s a lifeline, staring at Jungkook’s message like the words might rearrange themselves into something less terrifying.

Your brain is malfunctioning. Your hands are clammy. Your heart rate is somewhere near cardiac arrest levels.

“Nari,” you whisper, voice shaky. “What do I say?”

Nari, who has just spent the last five minutes screaming and shaking you like a maraca, suddenly changes tactics. She plops back against the couch, crossing her arms. “Nothing.”

You blink. “What?”

“Nothing,” she repeats, grabbing the remote and flipping through Netflix. “Let him wait.”

Your whole body jolts. “WAIT?”

“Yes.” She leans back smugly. “We’re watching a show. You’ll text him in the morning.”

You gape at her, horrified. “No. No, no, no, please—”

“Yes.”

“Nari, please!” You grab her arm, shaking her dramatically. “I will literally die. My soul will leave my body.”

“Okay, good,” she says, deadpan. “Then I’ll text Jungkook myself and tell him his little admirer died of thirst.”

You let out a strangled noise, throwing yourself back against the couch. “I hate you.”

“You love me.” She pats your knee like you’re a distressed child. “And you asked for my advice, so now you’re gonna take it. No texting until morning. Let him wonder.”

You stare at her, betrayed. “This is evil.”

She shrugs, putting on some random drama. “Welcome to the game, bitch.”

You sulk for a few more minutes, checking your phone every five seconds like a lovesick fool before Nari finally yanks it out of your hands and tosses it across the room.

“BED,” she orders, standing up. “Now.”

You groan but eventually drag yourself to your feet, trudging to her bedroom like a prisoner on death row. When you finally get under the covers, you let out a heavy sigh.

“This is torture.”

Nari snickers, turning off the light. “You’ll thank me in the morning.”

You highly doubt that.

—

The next morning, you wake up feeling… slightly less insane. Only slightly.

Nari is still dead to the world when you roll out of bed, stretching with a groan. You grab your phone off the nightstand and check your notifications.

No new messages from Jungkook.

You stare at the screen for a moment, heart sinking slightly. Not that you expected him to double-text you or anything, but still.

Shaking off the disappointment, you tiptoe out of Nari’s apartment and head home. It’s a busy day—you’ve got errands to run, places to be, things to do. You get caught up in it all for a while, hopping from one task to the next.

And then—

Buzz.

[ iMessage ]

Unknown number: So, am I getting a response, or did you decide flirting with me was a one-time thing?

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richardsphere · 2 days ago

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so the hydra is just a term given to justify the dismissal of all reasons people write certain types of pairings over others as various illegitimate "ass-pull, bad-faith" justification? cause to me, and this might sound weird... the fact that there are multiple reasons isnt weird or any sign of overarching fandom/subculture-wide duplicity? like in a fandom there are multiple writers and everyone writes for different reasons. People arent monoliths even within fandom-groups. like it seems to me just... weird to create a word for that? Like it seems logical that different media have different audience-bases and that different bases make different fic-trends. Like comic fandom historically has a lot more male leading characters which means that people interested in those male characters are getting their fix just from the comics themselves, but a lot more fem-foccused fics both because the series arent actually showing off their favoured female characters that much because of the male bias. And they get a lot of f/f and m/m paired fics for the same reason: M/F pairings are already getting represented. Female-targeting shows have a lot of female leading characters, but most of the fandom tends to still be cis (even if female-pairings exist). So it makes sense for Male-featuring pairings to get overrepresented. (also the fact that the more something is shown in cannon, the less it is written in fic. Fic is a vessel by which people fill a vacuum in the cannon. to use Miraculous, our shared fandom for an example. There are a lot of "Ladybug realises Chat is mentally unwell" fics because she cannonically fails to pick up on this and the fandom wants to see him treated with the respect cannon doesnt give. Like to me this feels like basic economics? Supply and demand. If the demand is high, and the supply is low there are two possible responses: increased competition, as other companies (or in this case fic writers) swoop in to exploit the "gap" in the market, or in a regulated market with high barriers to entry it responds in a pricehike (obviously the more well known result in real economics, but not the result in the fandom space where fic is free and anyone can write with little barrier to entry). like this simple rule has a lot of different expressions. (for a different example this is how every shounen turns into an m/m fandom because of increased narrative focus on the Male Leads and exclusion of the female leads. Cause every writer who wants "their fave" to get comfort/love will either need to put a lot of effort into "filling out" an underwriten female character, or pair them with a more well fleshed out male one. IE: Naruto, Hero Aca, Kingdom Hearts, Supernatural) But in the end, it does almost always boil down to "people write whatever fills the gaps cannon left behind, and do so through the path of least resistance". to me, "Misogny hydra" (assuming im understanding your explanation right) feels like a term designed to villify the foundational nature of the mechanics that make people write fic in the first place. Like its saying the very concept of the base not being an easy an predictable monolith and including a multitude of varied complex motivations and desires within your fandom is "wrong".

scared to check if the madoka series is affected by the misogyny hydra as well

Are there men in Madoka??? Other than like Madoka’s dad and the violin guy Sayaka liked are there literally any other men??

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asterkatt · 17 hours ago

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ISAT ACT 5 SPOILERS!!

okay I said I was going to give more thoughts on act 5 of ISAT and then uh. I didn't. oopsies. but we're here now!!

I loved Odile's friendquest in this act SO much. one of my favorite things about the way the game handled Siffrin's actions throughout the entirety of act 5 in general is that everyone's reactions to him were so DIFFERENT. but not only were they different, they had reasons for being different. it wasn't just "Siffrin says something messed up, hurts someone's feelings, pushes it down, rinse and repeat". each "breakdown" was specifically tailored to be character specific. to fit in with how they've behaved in the story thus far, as well as how Siffrin feels about them/tends to respond to them in particular. with Mirabelle, it really was entirely accidental. Siffrin didn't even realize how their wording might come across in the moment. It wasn't him lashing out in any way - just him genuinely trying to cut corners. Odile?? Odile's was very different. it's easy to see that there's a lot of tension between Siffrin and Odile - more tension than there is with anyone else. Odile has been a thorn in Sif's side - constantly observing and watching and theorizing about why they're behaving strangely. I did the sus quest. Sif knows that she has the ability to figure it out. Consequently, they have to be way more aware of her than anyone else. (side note that's not entirely relevant to this but I want to bring it up - the fact Siffrin believes that her constant eye on him is because "she doesn't trust you" makes me sick. because that's not it at all. they might pretend it is. hell, she might act like it is. but it's not and she knows that. she knows it's because she's worried because she cares and Siffrin can't understand that.) so I feel like they took the "mistake" of messing up with Odile harder than they took any of the other interactions. because how could they be so stupid. how could they forget. how could he forget that she always figures it out.

so of course he lashes out. not only are they being faced with the same blinding mistake they've made over and over and over again, it's also a reminder that she doesn't trust him. (and why should she?).

and then she goes and makes it all worse by calling him a "friend". because they know that's not how she sees them. he believes that she doesn't trust him. so it must seem like she's directly lying to his face - and she thinks they're too dense to see through it.

I love that Odile doesn't back down. she doesn't shy away when they start yelling at her. she doesn't let it slide just because she made them upset (Isa and Mira both probably would - though Isa would try and get them to talk about it later). she pushes, because that's the only way she's going to get any answers.

the way you can feel her anger when Siffrin hits her where it hurts the most (without even seeing her face) is just AUHGSKJDHFKJSH. the writing of this game. the details. never cease to amaze me. I love the way she snaps back. she doesn't get angry, she doesn't yell - and yet somehow it hurts just as badly.

I also love the way Siffrin reflects on it - the way they acknowledge that "she was only worried about you!!!" because deep down he knows that their friends do actually care about him. the way Odile handles the situation afterwards as well - at the clocktower?????? I love that you can tell she's trying so hard to make the "right" choice to not endanger them when it's not what she wants. she doesn't want to leave Siffrin behind. If they weren't going to take on the King the next day, I guarantee you she'd be using anything in her power to figure out what was going on with him. I don't have the exact quote rn but at the end of the sus questline she mentions that she can't let something go when she finds it odd - and this is BEYOND odd. but she has to put the safety of the whole group and their mission first, and I love seeing that side of her.

#isat odile #isat #in stars and time #in stars and time odile #isat act 5 #in stars and time act 5 #isat thoughts #2nd post yapping about Odile let's go #i feel like this is somehow even more incoherent than the mirabelle one sorry #I was originally planning to combine this with my bonnie thoughts because I didn't think I had much to say on either #but I guess i did #whoopsies #will I ever get to isas #anyways odile I love you #isat spoilers #isat act 5 spoilers #in stars and time spoilers

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ohnoitstbskyen · 23 hours ago

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Seeing that Luke post get thousands upon thousands notes is giving me hives. How does one become this fandom brained? I know the jokes are "don't mess with fans of X they don't even watch/read/listen to their own film/show/etc." and any fandom is going to cause some amount of ooc behaviour for the sake of jokes and memes and stuff, but surely at some point the character is so bent out of shape you stop to ponder what you're doing.

Who is this Luke Skywalker, collector of wayward orphans? Why would he want to be Reys dad? You get the feeling she might want it at the start of TLJ... And then the rest of the movie happens, going into great detail, at times in overly didactic ways, as to why that's a Bad Idea for her personal growth and the galaxy at large.

Even in older Legends material, where he ends up having actual kids, most of the lauded and beloved portrayals of his character are things like the original Thrawn trilogy, and in that he spends all three books struggling with if there's any place for him in the galaxy after the emperor died. The supposed definitive alternate sequel trilogy is, at least for Luke, largely about if he even should restart the jedi order, since his own training is incomplete and he has a deep fear any students he has are going to eventually succumb to the dark side, and how if they do it'll probably be a direct result of his incompetence. He does naturally, much like in TLJ, overcome these feelings of inadequacy and re-emerge as the definitive hero of the story, but spending a few years wallowing is just a very Luke way to deal with problems in life.

Like yeah I wonder why a bitter, self-isolating old man who views his life as a colossal failure wouldn't be jumping for joy when a younger, more naive version of himself shows up to his house uninvited.

For how desperate to venerate the Nostalgia the sequel trilogy project as a whole is, only TLJ really feels like it actually gives a shit about the story it's supposedly continuing. I didn't think you could look at Lukes death and not feel the overwhelming love and care for him specifically. I always shed a tear when binary sunset kicks in and I'm not even that into the originals. I was a prequel defender in 2010, Luke is the 20th character I think about when people mention SW.

Do people just not engage with the source material at all? Is this a product of the whole fandom tourism boom in the last 5-ish years? I genuinely don't want to be mean. After all, fandom is all of us playing with our toys, and you should always try to avoid a "old man yells at cloud" scenario, but like... It's a movie for 12 year olds that's very deliberately laying out all the cards. A slightly more nuanced and emotionally mature movie for 12 year olds than you might expect but... A child could get it, it's been focus grouped to hell and back so any given child on the planet should get it... How are you as an adult asking why the story had conflict?

I also broke out in hives a little bit when I found out that my addition (?) had made that thing go around. Or maybe it wasn't my addition, I'm actually not sure, but I worry that it was. The OP turned off reblogs, and I can only assume it was because people starting doing absurd bullshit discourse on the post which... hhhh I don't really like being part of inflicting that on anyone over something as unimportant as Star Wars opinions.

Also, the thing I was reacting against really wasn't the fact that people have headcanons about who and what kind of character Luke is - like, that's just normal and generally a good and fun part of fandom. I reacted against the idea of The Last Jedi being thoughtless about his character. It interprets Luke in a very specific way, but that interpretation is, I think objectively, deeply grounded in the history of his character and the thematic throughlines of the Skywalker-focused movies. So it annoyed me a bit to see people treat the depiction like it was some kind of failure to engage with the original material. I think that's not quite fair to what the movie was, and I think it leads to weak criticism of its flaws.

I think that the better angle for critique of the whole sequel trilogy and Rian Johnson's contribution is that obsesses far too much about the original trilogy, and is at its best in those few scant moments when it breaks away from it. If the sequel trilogy hadn't had the corporate mandate to be a kind of Frankenstein remake of the OT, perhaps a kindly old grandfatherly Luke could have been a fun and interesting interpretation of the character's future. Luke is what he is in TLJ because the trilogy absolutely fucking had to recreate the narrative beats of Dagobah, and therefore absolutely had to have Luke learn another lesson from Yoda about learning to let go of his attachments to and fears about the future and be present in the here-and-now.

Johnson is clearly a fucking nerd-ass Star Wars nerd, whose greatest mistake was assuming that other Star Wars nerds would engage with the material with good faith and an eye towards appreciation and discovery, rather than product-brained, screaming entitlement to their supremacy-affirming nostalgia security blanket.

To be clear, here I am talking about the culture war grifter assholes who poison the world, and not fandom people who have a cozy headcanon about Luke as a cheerful old community dad. I don't think it's fandom tourism to have a headcanon about a character, or a favored interpretation of them, even one which feels somewhat divorced from the original source-text. If I had to take a guess, the people on the original post developed that headcanon through fandom - by way of fanfics and fanposting and fanart, by way of fix-it fics and excited speculation. If I had to take a guess, they got their headcanon about Luke the same place everyone gets their headcanons about popular characters: from some combination of appreciation, projection, and a desire to see the thing you love tell a story that you need to hear. That's just human, and I don't think you can spend any significant amount of time in fandom without developing those attachments to certain stories or characters.

#tb answers #vodenkonj #star wars #luke skywalker #the last jedi

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intimidatingpuffinstudios · 23 hours ago

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So let's flip the entire what if mc can't keep up and ask what if all of your characters can't keep up with the mc?

AHAHAHA LOVE THIS! 🤣🤣🤣

Morkai: *aggressively chugs smoothies and herbal concoctions meant for stamina, trains for endurance, would rather be caught dead than admit he can't keep up

Straasa: *will frantically try to use hands, toys, his mouth, anything to give himself some time to recuperate. If nothing works, will plead and bargain for his life

Manerkol: *will FIND a way to make it work. There's magic, there's hidden knowledge--some way to keep up! If nothing works, might start considering if the MC is the one who needs to do alterations... But really, will not stop until the problem is solved somehow

Daelynn: *is actually super shocked that someone has a bigger appetite than her and will enthusiastically cheer the MC on. Doesn't matter if she's barely moving, keep going

Eledwen: *would actually find a way to recharge and keep up through sheer willpower. Watch her unlock secret Dragon powers simply because she must and will accept nothing else

Sielthan: *has zero survival instincts in this regard, so will keep going until they drop. Is super surprised every time it happens, but never stops going until they faint

Rai: *always strives for excellence, so will get creative to get the job done. If they can't keep up with the quantity, then they gotta make the quality so explosive that you pass out

Zach: *will slap a toy onto you that provides stimulation, and you're not allowed to take it off until they say so. They hold the remote, so prepare to be buzzed at the worst possible times

Cy: *is impressed and believes you deserve a reward for such an excellent drive, so they'll be in your head and making you come nonstop, no need for touching

Mornie: *ties you up to the bed and smirks as she suggests you work on some deep breathing and meditation techniques. Watches you struggle with sadistic glee

#the soul stone war #tssw #morkai #daelynn #straasa #manerkol #eledwen #Rai #Mornie #Sielthan #beyond the mist #btm #Zach #Cy #the sin stones #interactive fiction

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slutsareteacherstoo · 8 hours ago

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Gonna be blasting all these songs that came up below like wow, Reina. You got me fr. Its highkey a sign for me. Like lemme not block my blessings and get my shit together real quick but amazing

First up gon be that Keyshia Cole

Me reading the warnings more clearly know and sending praise 😩🙏🏿

OH SHE IS FREE?!?! GRACIAS MI REINA 🙏🏿🧎🏿‍♀️I WAS STRESSING!!!!! but damn that’s not freedom frfr but she out!

Come on inner dialogue tingz!!! 🗣️🗣️ “Guilt was burning across all of my deepest thoughts, creating a pile of self-doubt and resentment in the crevices of every memory— happy, sad, or indifferent.”

“For me, it was like carrying around a burden of responsibility that was far too delicate and overwhelming. As hard as I fought to keep the world inside my head unburdened by the plague of self-doubt, I failed— forgetting just how easy it is for me to self-destruct without the slightest potential of reprieve.” Its giving sisyphus😪free my girl fr!!!!

Shit that freaked me out but i too would freak out and had i heard someone fall to the floor

“I was battling the urge to do what I normally do—spew hateful words until the other person retreats. For the first time in my life, my body and mind actually agreed with my heart. I couldn't do it. Nothing would come out no matter how many times I opened my mouth— no words word forms and all sounds were deafened on my lips. I was unconsciously saving myself from myself, and, in this fight, I was my only opponent.” - you be writing poetry? 🧐🤨 just curious 🤓 it’s very lyrical, very verse!!! I like that last sentence.

OH GOT HE TOGETHER REAL QUICK!!!!!

Nah Havana. We nuh av dat!!!! 😤 THE PERSON IN FRONT IS SHOWING YOU THEY LOVE YOU BABY YOU NOT PRETENDING!! And ol boy knows its not an act 😩

“…Today might not be that day, but dammit if I don't try.” - well *claps hands* so when’s the wedding??? 🤭 no but that was some real shit. This IS some real shit. Havana’s inability to accept her relationship with Terry and his love for her for what it is is def a situation ik all too well, even when all the conditions are met that doesn’t change the mindfuck and guilt can be consuming. And also like being able too see the grey. Cuz like yes 🙄 Vana couldve reeled it in a bit but/and/also Terry was being communicative and ignored Vana when she brought up what happened and how it clearly bothered her. So the moral is that there’s shared accountability in all this!!!

*LEARN SOMETHING FROM THIS*

Yes we love big bawling, emotional Terry being raw and vulnerable

“Go to sleep. I'll be right here when you wake up,” I cooed into his ear.” 🥺🥺

“I love you,” I said softly, kissing Terry's head. “I just gotta figure out how… how to love me, too.” - WHEW THATLL DO IT!!!!! 😭

Not his voice metro booming i wouldve [redacted] right there

“Nah…. Not Daddy. Terry. That's my name tonight. Okay?” he said, pressing me further into the mattress.” - THEY GON BE MAKING LOVE TONIGHT YALL 😫 play “Can You Feel the Love Tonight” by Elton John

OH SHIT WE DOIN AFFIRMATIONS NOW?!?!

I blinked in between the pumps like sorry Vana. scooch over real quick i need to hear this 😅🙈

HEY SIRI PUT THAT DESTIN CONRAD “IT’S YOURS” ON REPEAT!!!

Lmaooo ok ok ok Reina 😌Mi Reina you’ve redeemed yourself in the eyes of your public. Now i know (partially)why you had the girls [gender neutral] up in arms. But wow!!!

This was sooo disarming. Like you stripped me raw and got me reflecting like fuck. I don’t do fisticuffs but that anger and being quick to use it on people who aren’t careful. Them words could cut a bitch fr!!! But like wow im like taken aback and in awe. Like shoutout to Vana for seeing herself through it. I mean Terry helped or whatever 🙄 but again Vana did the heavy lifting and thT makes me soo proud to see.

And you’ve done such an amazing job crafting these characters, esp your OC and making her face her shit and be real with herself, always for the better. Like chile lemme get myself together so I can be present in my future relationships like damn. It took me a minute to catch up but it was actually perfect timing. Like wow.

Im constantly blown away by you and seeing you expand in your craft. Ik im a behind but ik that means theres more in store to give flowers to always 💜

Big Mama Pt. 12 | Enough

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Plus Size Fem Black!OC

Wordcount: +5.1K

Warnings: MDNI (18+) mature content, such as cursing, light smut (fingering), heavily dialogue-centered, angst, verbal argument, self-deprecation

🦋Big Mama (series) => 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11

Early That Morning

“Monnie, I don't know… Everything is just…,” I said, crying softly.

“Girl! If you don't just praise God right quick, and call that man to thank him.” Monnie said, smacking her lips. She was understandably agitated with my response. Was it lackluster? Yes, but I didn't know what to say or do about it. I didn't want to seem ungrateful, but I honestly wasn't happy with the outcome.

After almost three weeks of pure hell, I received a call from a lawyer that Terry himself hired. I was told the conditions for maintaining my freedom as I was currently living in the aftermath of the incident between Terry, me, and Taylor. It was finally over, but here I was still crumbling under the weight of it all.

The terms and conditions were as follows:

Terry agrees not to sue Taylor as long as she agrees not to sue me.

Terry agrees not to file and pursue criminal charges against Taylor as long as she agrees to drop the charges against me and forfeit her right to refile.

I would not be allowed to approach Taylor in any public setting, but we could be present in the same vicinity.

There would be no established restraining order from Taylor against me, just a peace order since we have no standing or pre-existing relationship.

Terry's family agreed to take care of any outstanding medical bills for Taylor, along with her receiving a small undisclosed amount.

The records would be expunged after 90 days.

The terms were simple and clear. I just hated how much Terry had to give up for it. The outcome was obviously unfavorable and one-sided. The single impartial party who deserved justice and compensation received none— Terry. Because of that, I felt like crawling into a hole and never resurfacing. Guilt was burning across all of my deepest thoughts, creating a pile of self-doubt and resentment in the crevices of every memory— happy, sad, or indifferent.

My faith in love had been tainted by my own doing not because I didn't think Terry loved me but because I felt like he shouldn't. Every voice in my head told me I was and should've been deemed unlovable years ago. Honestly, a person like me is not capable of accepting a love as pure as Terry's. For me, it was like carrying around a burden of responsibility that was far too delicate and overwhelming. As hard as I fought to keep the world inside my head unburdened by the plague of self-doubt, I failed— forgetting just how easy it is for me to self-destruct without the slightest potential of reprieve.

2 Hours Later

KNOCK

I was startled awake by the thunder of someone pounding on my front door. I had fallen asleep on the loveseat in my living room.

Jumping up, I attempted to make my way to the door. I used the oversized plush blanket as a cover and held it tightly against my body. I was only wearing a sports bra and micro-biker shorts.

As I walked around the edge of the coffee table, the blanket snagged the corner and positioned itself under my feet. My right foot got trapped in the sea of fabric, causing me to crash onto the floor. My knees collided with the laminated wood with vigor. I had no time to lick my wounds.

“Shit!” I yelled.

At this point, I was more than agitated. I tore the blanket off of me and tossed it to the floor. Using the arm of the recliner, I regained my footing and stood up. I placed my hands on my hips and drew in a deep breath as my body registered the pain from the fall.

Before I could make another move, the knocking began again. This time, the sounds were harder and louder.

KNOCK

Each knock sounded off, shaking the front door. I paused in fear. My anxiety peaked as my mind began to race with disturbing thoughts. I wasn't expecting visitors, so who was this?

“I can hear you inside, ‘Vana. Please, just open the door.” said a muffled voice from outside.

No. No. No. It couldn't be. Why would he be here?

“Terry?!” I yelled back in confusion and relief.

“Yes, baby! Now, can you open the door? We really need to talk,” he said.

I remained frozen in place. Losing the ability to hear, Terry's voice began to drown out.

“Havana!” he yelled again.

“Uh, Terry. I just… I don't…,” I whimpered loudly.

Before any coherent thoughts left my lips, the door swung open. I couldn't help but stare at Terry in shock.

“How the fuck……,” I asked as I approached him slowly.

“I had a key made months ago. I wanted it for emergencies. This counts as an emer….,” Terry said.

“Terry! Get out! Now!” I yelled. I was beyond frustrated and tired.

Today has worn me thin, and my patience was at its lowest. I wasn't in the mood for tolerating any form of nonsense or mess.

“No! Havana, baby�� We need to talk, and I'm not leaving until we do.”

I knew I owed Terry an apology, a conversation, and everlasting grace; but I couldn't even find it in me to give myself the same.

I was battling the urge to do what I normally do—spew hateful words until the other person retreats. For the first time in my life, my body and mind actually agreed with my heart. I couldn't do it. Nothing would come out no matter how many times I opened my mouth— no words word forms and all sounds were deafened on my lips. I was unconsciously saving myself from myself, and, in this fight, I was my only opponent.

“Havana, look at me!” Terry said, grabbing my chin. Oh, how a firm yet loving hand can change things. My heart fluttered and skipped in my chest as his fingers stoked the surface of my skin.

“Terry… I… I'm sorry,” I said as tears finally broke free. “You… Y-you deserve more than I can give you. I want… I want you to be happy. I just don't think that can happen with me.”

“Mama, don—,” Terry said.

“No! Terry, just lea—leave. Please!” I yelled, pushing him away.

“Havana,” Terry said, grabbing my arms. His eyes dropped to meet mine.

Yanking away from him, I yelled again, “Ter—!”. Before I could finish, Terry's face shifted into a look of utter aggravation.

“That's it! Havana Rose,…. sit down or I'll sit you down,” Terry muttered through gritted teeth as he pointed towards the couch.

I stood there for a second frozen in shock. I never expected Terry to put up this much of a fight.

“Aight, I'm done. I'm sick—,” he started to speak as he picked me up and tossed me over his shoulder, “—of this shit!”.

Terry began to carry me down the hall. I pushed against his back in a feeble attempt to be released. I knew struggling was pointless, but I wasn't ready for the conversation Terry clearly wanted to have.

As we rounded the corner of my bedroom door, I could feel the tears falling with ease. There was no noise leaving my body as I silently wept. I should've prepared for this more productively. Instead, I tried to choose a coward's way out, and Terry wasn't having it.

Like always, life had a weirdly tumultuous way of making me confront my feelings.

Placing me on the bottom edge of my bed, Terry stood in front of me. His eyes scanned my face as he watched me teeter on the edge of implosion.

“Hav—,” Terry started. He squatted down in front of me and rested his hands on my knees.

As much as I wanted this to end, one question was burning through my mind— heavy and bitter as it weighed on my tongue. Unfortunately for me, the four words could not be swallowed back down, allowing the unpleasantness of the discontent to fester in the back of my throat. I knew how to rectify this feeling, and I knew how to pacify the voices in my head. But, should I, and did I deserve it?

“Do you love me?” I asked, avoiding Terry's gaze. I could see his lips begin moving, so I placed my hand over his mouth. “No, just listen to me. I want you to think about what happened. I can't even control my anger. W-what if… you wake up one day and finally realize y-you… deserve better… than me. I'm sick of pretending like… like I'm enough. Terry, we both know I'll never be enough, so let's just end this now,” I spoke barely above a whisper.

Terry's hands lifted to rest on my shoulders. As his eyes pleaded with me, I saw a glimmer of something I wish I didn't— hesitation and uncertainty. I slowly pushed his hands off my shoulders, waiting for him to just say what we already knew.

Terry didn't love me. He loved what he thought I—

“’Vana, let's get something clear. I love you with all my fuckin' heart. Just saying I love you isn't enough for me because you're everything to me. What can I do to show you that? Huh? Tell me, love. What can I do?”

I hung my head in defeat. Most women would be swooning over this, but it only added another layer to the guilt that was consuming me. Now, he was giving me unconditional love when I couldn't even allow myself the space to apologize.

“Terry, no. Please, just—,” I choked, wiping away tears.

“No, you stop. Stop beating yourself up about this. I understand that what I did made you doubt me, but don't ever feel like the problem was you. I was. I did it. All of this is on me. If I would have been man enough to tell you the truth about what happened, there wouldn't have been a fight. That one mistake caused all of this. This is my fault, not yours. And—,” he spewed breathlessly.

“Terry…,” I interrupted him.

“No, let me finish. Believe me, when I say this, I'll fight the devil himself for you. I'll climb the mountains in heaven just to find you again. I don't think you understand me, baby. I love every part of you. I hope that one day you can see that. Today might not be that day, but dammit if I don't try.”

Terry stood at his full height, towering over me. His eyes were bright yet somehow lacking their normal vitality, seeming to be void of any indication of happiness. It became clear to me that this was wearing Terry down just as much as it was me. As much as I wanted him to give up, the idea of causing him such grief and fatigue weighed heavily on my heart.

He drew his hands into fists as I watched his eyes. His face became flustered, and his breathing became ragged. Every breath choppier than the last. I could sense something brewing inside of him. His hands were shaking slightly as they rested by his side. As he unclenched and clenched his fists, his bottom lip began to quiver. His eyes glossed over, and his gaze became lethargic. No… No… This couldn't be happening.

“Terry, I'm sorry. I just feel like we can't—,” I said, standing from the bed.

Tears were streaming from Terry's eyes. The strength in his face was faltering right before my eyes.

I slowly reached out to touch his face, stroking his cheek while I wiped away the tears. He grabbed my hand, holding it tightly against his cheek.

“These… these last few weeks have been pure hell for me. I missed you so much, mama. It's like for the first… for the first time in my life, I know love; and that's because of you,” he paused for a moment, taking long deep breaths. “It was a funny feeling at first…. and coming to terms with it was hell. You only hear of women wanting to be seen and heard, but now that I know the feeling—. I don't think I could ever go back to what I thought love was.”

“Terry, you really feel that way?” I asked, sobbing with him at this point.

“Yes, it honestly scared me when I realized how much I loved you… Whew… I had to sit with the fact that I had never loved someone that much… and… and I had never been loved properly before you. Baby,… listen to me… I can say this before God and before you… that this is a love worth fighting for. Havana Rose, YOU'RE worth fighting for. Do you… please, tell me you understand,” he sobbed into my hand.

“Terry, baby, I'm so sorry. I didn't want… I just didn't know what to say,” I said, pulling him into a hug.

“You don't have to say anything. Just tell me you're not leaving,” he said, kissing the top of my head.

His hands wrapped around my waist even tighter. I rested my face in his chest and mumbled a quiet no.

How could I leave him, especially now? For the first time, my heart felt— full.

“Thank you, ‘Vana. I love you. Okay?” he said, leaning into me.

“I love you, too,” I confessed, wiping away my tears.

I reached out to touch Terry's face, tracing the outline of his jaw. As if that was all the reassurance he needed, his shoulders dropped slowly. I watched patiently as his body returned to a state of normalcy— shoulders broad, chest out, and head high.

As we stood there silently refusing to let each other go, he let out a long yawn.

“Tired?” I questioned, looking up at him.

“Yeah,” he laughed.

“Wanna take a nap… uh… together?” I asked, praying that he would say yes.

There was nothing I craved more than his touch right now. I needed him bad. Luckily, I didn't have to wait long for his answer.

“Hell, yeah!” he blurted, lifting me. His hands carefully wrapped my legs around his waist.

He kneeled on the edge of the bed, crawling towards the head with me in his arms. He gently laid me in the center of the pillows. I released my legs and let them fall onto the bed.

Finally untangling from each other, Terry lifted himself onto his hands. He scooted down so that his head was resting on my chest. I used one hand to run my fingers through his velvety hair, massaging his scalp with my fingertips. The other hand soothingly rubbed his back like a baby. Terry's arms wrapped under my body, embracing me tightly. I let my lips rest at the top of his head.

“Go to sleep. I'll be right here when you wake up,” I cooed into his ear.

2 Hours Later

Waking up to Terry's body on mine felt like home— a place I'd never been allowed to experience. As I watched his shoulders rise and fall with each breath, I released one of my own. With him here in my arms, I could breathe again.

Terry's presence was a breath of fresh air because, admittedly, he was the air that I breathed. I had never felt so attached to anyone or anything. Every part of him called out to something in me. His voice soothed my soul, his lips electrified whatever they touched, his hands… God, his hands absolved me of my suffering, and his eyes knew how to see my heart.

“I love you,” I said softly, kissing Terry's head. “I just gotta figure out how… how to love me, too.”

Terry's arms adjusted underneath me, causing me to hold my breath. Embarrassment washed over me, warming my skin. I was silently praying that he didn't hear me. Releasing a deep groan after a few minutes, I realized he was in a deep sleep again. His shoulders slumped forward, allowing his body to melt into mine.

Releasing a heavy sigh, I leaned over and kissed Terry's forehead. I knew that lifting this man off of me would be damn near impossible. I was debating on if I should wake him up or not. I shifted to one side so his hold on me would loosen. His arms fell away from my body, allowing me to scoot out from under him— barely. I carefully moved towards the edge of the bed. I slowly turned my body so my feet softly landed on the floor.

I stood from the bed, stumbling as the feeling in my legs returned. They felt like jelly as a deep tingling sensation went to my toes. I kicked my feet and flicked my ankles.

As I sauntered across the room, I heard Terry stir in his slumber. I glanced over my shoulder to see him now on his back. His arm thrown across his chest left him posed so… so… delicately like an angel. Terry’s face alone could render even the most wicked defenseless.

I smiled brightly at the sight of him. I quietly opened the bathroom door. Stopping to stare at the mirror, I took in my appearance. Yikes! I looked like… something, and it wasn't nice.

I mentally made plans to do my hair— or maybe I'll just pay someone.

Using the bathroom as quickly as possible, I reentered the bedroom and dried my hands on a towel. I glanced over at Terry to see his chest still rising and falling. I half-smiled at the sight. Walking towards the door, I entered into the front room. I closed the door softly behind me.

Before I could reach the kitchen, I heard a noise coming from behind me. The springs of my old mattress were loud and alarming.

“Havana! Where are you?!” yelled Terry from the bedroom. I could hear the bed creaking again.

I turned around to walk back to the bedroom door. “Why is this man yelling?” I asked myself quietly as I giggled.

“HAVANA!” Terry yelled even louder than the first time. The tone of his voice contained a sense of urgency and concern. Panic set in for me as soon as I realized the distress in his voice.

Sprinting towards the door, I flung it open. “What's wrong?” I inquired softly.

Terry was seated on the edge of the bed, facing the door. His eyes shot up to meet mine. The look on Terry's face made my heart thump. My breath quickened anxiously. His eyes were red, and his face was flushed. His head swayed on his shoulders as his breathing quieted. His fingers dug into the bed with a ferocious grip.

I approached him slowly. Softening my voice before speaking, I raised my hand to stroke his cheek. “Baby, are you okay?” I asked him.

Terry's eyes darted from my face to the floor. The worried look on his face cut deep as his eyes seemed to search for mine. This was not a look of simple anxiety or worry. His countenance was charged with— despair and desperation.

I leaned over to place kisses on his forehead. “Hey, I'm right here. Wh—,” I whispered as Terry threw his arms around my waist.

He pulled me into a fervent embrace. His arms felt like a second skin against my body. I felt his shoulders fall forward as his body went limp against mine. I couldn't understand the overwhelming range of emotions this man was displaying.

“I… I… I th-thought you were gone,” he said with his face pressed into my belly.

I squatted down in front of him. “Terry, I'm not going anywhere. I promise. I told you that, honey,” I said, cupping his chin in my hand.

He slowly shook his head in understanding as if he was coming to terms with my words.

That's when it hit me. HE THOUGHT I HAD LEFT.

“Terry, look at me. I love you. You big baby,” I said, smiling at him somberly.

“I know. I just panicked I guess. I'm sorry about that,” he said, looking at the floor.

“Awww, don't apologize. I'm okay, papa,” I said, rising on my feet. “You hungry?” I asked him while softly caressing the side of his neck.

His head leaned up slowly as a slight grin spread across his face. “Hell yeah,” he laughed.

Later That Night

“You done, baby?” I asked Terry as I stood from the couch. I held my hand out to take his plate.

“Yeah, here—,” he started. “Wait! Give those here. I got it. You sit down,” he said, taking the plates from me.

“Terry, I could've washed them. It isn't that many.”

“Nah… I told you I got it,” he said, kissing my forehead as he walked past me.

I stood there in silence. This was so adorable to me. How could this man get any cuter?

“Ok. Fine. I'll sit, I guess.” I sat down on the arm of the couch.

Terry entered the kitchen and placed the dishes in the sink. I don't know why, but the sight of this man washing dishes was so… I could feel the butterflies in my tummy going wild.

As I watched his back muscles move, I felt something. I immediately felt my panties grow damp as his shirt clung to every curve and crevice of his body.

I bit my lip as I crossed my legs. Feeling my body come alive, I released a quiet sigh. I needed this man— on me, in me, with me, however.

I repositioned myself with my legs on both sides of the arm of the couch so that I was straddling it. I was losing a silent battle between my mind and my body. I could feel my hips move slowly. There was no way this man had me grinding my pussy against a fuckin' couch. The friction of my labia and clit rubbing against the couch through the thin material of my biker shorts aided in creating the slick pool in the seat of my shorts. I knew they were ruined, but I was too aroused to stop.

I gulped in desperation, trying to fight against whatever this was. I didn't want to attack this man just yet. I knew words needed to be said and feelings needed to be discussed. I looked down at my body, covering my face in shame. I was being betrayed by the only thing I thought I had control over— myself. Every movement I made and thought I had was overpowered by him.

I was suffering, and I knew it. There was only one way to stop it. I had to feed the beast.

With eyes stricken with defeat, I looked over at him. I feverishly hummed in desperation, “Terry. I… um… I-,”.

To my surprise, he was no longer facing the sink. He was looking directly at me. I froze in shame. I watched his eyes lower as his gaze dropped. I dropped my head and looked at the floor.

“You need something, ‘Vana?” Terry asked. His voice boomed through the air. The intense weight of that question landed right where I needed it— my heart and my pussy. I was past hot and bothered. I was in the middle of having a sexual crisis.

I looked back at him and nodded. At this point, I was a needy mess. If Terry so much as touched me, I'd cum. I wanted to speak, but I knew whatever sound my lips released would be lascivious.

“I’m going to ask you again. Do you need something?” Terry asked, leaning forward against the kitchen island.

“Yeessss,” I whined.

“And what do you need?” he asked, moving to the other side of the island.

I drew in a breath and spoke, “YOU! I NEED YOU!”.

The speed at which Terry made it to me was incredible. His movements were so swift and fluid that his feet never made a sound.

His arms wrapped around my body as he picked me up. My legs instantly found their home around his waist. As soon as his gaze met mine, our lips crashed into each other's. His tongue grazed the seam of my lips, begging for entry. I parted my lips and without pause, our tongues went to war. Each of us fighting for more.

I leaned back to catch my breath. I was shocked to discover that we were now standing in my bedroom. I was too wrapped up in that kiss to notice our location changed.

Terry softly placed me in the center of the bed. He slowly lifted his shirt above his head before tossing it across the room. His hands dropped to the top of his waistband.

I watched intently as his hands moved to remove his clothes. I was practically salivating in anticipation for his pants to fall. I knew what I wanted to see. Terry sensed my eagerness and released a rumbly laugh. “Patience, baby,” he said, removing his pants.

My eyes locked into the large tent at the front of his boxers. I reached out to palm the ever-growing bulge in need and desperation. My neediness had slowly built up in the pit of my stomach becoming a slow churning ache. Terry’s hand grabbed mine and brought it to his lips. He began gingerly kissing my inner wrist.

“Daddy,” I whimpered, pulling my hand away.

Terry's demeanor shifted as his hand once again grabbed mine. Interlocking his fingers in mine, he pulled my hand towards his chest. He placed it over his heart while leaning over me.

“Nah…. Not Daddy. Terry. That's my name tonight. Okay?” he said, pressing me further into the mattress.

I stared straight into his eyes. Lost for words was an understatement. For some reason, I fully understood the intention behind his declaration. This was between Havana and Terry, and this was NOT a scene.

Moments Later

“Say it, baby. I wanna hear you say it,” Terry said, placing his mouth back on my nipple. Using nothing but the tip of his tongue, he flicked the overly sensitive bud repeatedly.

My body was growing more and more enraptured by nothing more than Terry's touch. The feeling of his tongue and hands all over my body was intoxicating. I was in love, love drunk, and high off him.

“I'm yours,” I moaned out quietly.

“And… What else?” Terry asked, switching to my other breast.

Pushing my chest up, I wrapped my hands around the back of his head. Fully enthralled in the moment, my grasp on reality slipped.

“I'm… I'm enough. I'm enough,” I rasped almost chanting into the air.

Terry's licks became suckles as one of his hands found a home between my legs.

He moaned as he found pleasure in his own sentiments. “Enough for who?” he asked back in reinforcement.

“For you!” I screamed, feeling myself come undone as two of Terry's fingers pushed into my pussy.

The gasp I let out became trapped in my throat, leaving me choking on air.

“Breathe, ‘Vana. Hey, take a deep breath for me,” Terry pleaded, knitting his eyebrows together in concern.

I swallowed hard and struggled to find air. This was too much. For the first time, I didn't know how to respond or react. The control of my body was no longer in my hands. Terry's voice quickly became the guiding light drawing me to whatever awaited me. Whether that was pleasure, happiness, or a combination of both, I would gratefully accept my fate after wholeheartedly surrendering to his every desire, urge, and craving. I was HIS, and his authority was absolute— there was no doubt about it.

“Look at me. Don't… you… ever… doubt… how much… I… love… you. Understood?” Terry demanded in between kisses as his fingers slowly pumped in and out of me.

“Y-yes. I'm sorry,” I whined, clenching around his fingers.

“All I want you to focus on is breathing. Let me handle everything else,” Terry whispered into my ear.

“Ughh….” I sobbed as tears rolled from the corners of my eyes.

“Baby, I missed you,” he cooed, resting his lips against my chin.

“I… I mi-missed you, too,” I panted breathlessly.

Terry's lips covered mine in a kiss fueled by desire, stealing my breath and filling me with his. A heavenly set of plush full lips left a soft trail of kisses along my chin until they reached the side of my neck. Tongue swiping back and forth over the supple skin. I gasped as I felt his teeth nip on the sensitive area.

Every action led to one conclusion— this was yearning in its purest form. LOVE.

“Talk to me, ‘Vana. I need to hear something,” he whispered into the side of my neck. All while his two fingers were stealing my soul— slowly.

Against my better judgment, I attempted to speak. I whimpered in delirium as my mouth released nothing but haphazard babbles. All poor attempts at speech as words slipped from my recollection. I just hoped, for my sake, that my body could tell Terry what my mouth couldn't.

As I was sinking and falling simultaneously to a place I had never been, a new question arose. Is this what being stripped raw felt like?

Without my permission, Terry had pulled me into a state of vulnerability and surrender. Using only his hands and his tongue, he had left me exposed with nowhere to hide. I was being forced to hand over my heart and soul. I was finding myself with every kiss.

To myself, I was Havana Rose Taylor. A black woman who deserved love in all forms. I was an exquisite piece of art— rare and invaluable. I was flawed yet virtuous, in my own right.

To the man I loved, I was deserving and admirable. I was the world in human form. A woman capable of love— potent and everlasting. I was desirable and alluring in every facet of the terms. I was… HIS.

And most importantly, I was enough— for me and for Terry.

A/N: Remember, I'm open to critiques. I am a little 🤏🏽 sensitive about my writing. Please, don't be too harsh.🥺 Feel free to bring my attention to any typos. Divider by ME (theereina). Also, this work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than here on Tumblr). I do NOT give consent for any form of republishing or rewriting.

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jeminie-rising · 3 days ago

Text

onigiris for valentine's

[ Inumaki Toge x Reader ]

link to AO3: [ onigiris for valentine's by JEMINIE ]

summary: "Perhaps he didn’t get a bag with a purple ribbon, but he looked at his own colour on the ribbon that was tied on your hair."

Or, it's valentine's day and you give everyone a bag of cookies with ribbons of their favourite colours apart from Inumaki. He then realises that his ribbon was actually in your hair all along.

warnings: Inumaki Toge uses sign language, Soft Inumaki, Inumaki says more than just rice balls ingredients, fluff, toge and reader being complete idiots in love, no smut!, they're both so in love, Not actually unrequited love (they just shy), Yuuta is so supportive, love confessions (finally), slow burn

characters: inumaki toge, The Inumaki Clan, Fushiguro Megumi, Itadori Yuuji, Kugisaki Nobara, Zen'in Maki, Panda, Yuta Okkotsu

word count: 6,623

authors note: hi, i know i know. It's the end of February and why am i posting a Valentine's themed one shot?

WELL BETTER LATE THAN NEVER!

sorry, i wasn't in the mood to write about love during the month of my ex's birthday lmao. so not only was i late, but this one shot might not be as good as i would have hoped. I shall come back in the future to fix it, hopefully

In the meantime though, ENJOY xx

and reminder:

sign language in this fanfic, like in all the others, is based on japanese sign language, not ASL.

this is part 3 of the Holidays with Toge series but can 100% be read on its own

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Don’t wait for someday. She’s thinking the same thing as you. - kids that fly

It has been weeks since New Year’s Eve. January seemed to pass in the blink of an eye and even worse, it seems like nothing really has changed. Not the classes they took, not the amount of times Itadori begged for you to help him out with English, not the missions you took up with your classmates, and not the way Inumaki treated you.

You started to believe everything that has happened was a figment of your imagination. His little trick and tease during the countdown to the very last second of last year, was nothing more than his way to pull a joke out of you. It’s not that it was something out of the ordinary. He liked to pull pranks on people with Panda all the time. Something Maki had to deal with every day, being the only other classmate they had that was present. Unfortunately for her, the mysterious fourth second year was always absent, making her the only and biggest target of Inumaki and Panda’s annoying plans.

But exactly because of it, they moved on from Maki and started widening their target to the first years. They started with Itadori, quite the gullible one and easier to get forgiveness from. A safe bet, you’d say. They managed to make him believe he was invisible for an entire afternoon. Even miraculously got help from Megumi, who did not want to get involved. But because it came natural for him to ignore Itadori, he indirectly added to the two’s bit.

They managed to pull one on you too. But in comparison, your prank seemed quite mellower. One day, mid-january, you came back to your room after class only to see it filled up with Christmas decorations when you were sure you put them down just the previous week. Even then, you were certain that you never really owned Santa curtains and elves bedsheets. It took you a whole two days to bring down everything.

Up to this day, you weren’t sure how it was that they entered your room.

“I can hear you both snickering there,” Maki warned the two solidified prankers of the school, “if this is one other prank you’re planning you will–”

“It’s not!” Panda was quick to defend himself, “Toge was just making a joke.”

“If you two have so much time to joke around then might as well use that to train the first years.”

You and Nobara couldn’t help but smile at that idea. Training with a second year other than Maki? Definitely!

Maki was a force of nature. She may not have any cursed energy but she made up for it with raw skills and talent. Nobara swore she would take ten Pandas over one Maki any day. And that she did. Maki wasn’t even done sparring with her before she ran towards Panda to start their training. You only looked at her, a little bit of betrayal in your face for leaving you behind.

Maki looked at you expectantly, now that Nobara was gone, you were next.

“I, actually–”

“Hey, guys!”

Everyone turned around but only the second years reacted to the newcomer.

“Who is that?” Itadori asked, almost appalled, as soon as he saw Maki actually smile.

Megumi, who was the only one from the first years who has been in the school long enough to know, smiled proudly as he answered Itadori, “That’s Yuuta Okkotsu, the last of the second years of the Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Te–”

“Yeah, yeah,” Nobara interrupted him. “That’s the last of our upperclassmen then?”

“I guess...?”

With a groan Nobara let down her shoulders, “ugh, so there’s really no handsome guy in this entire school uh?”

“Hey!” Itadori pouted, but Nobara was already waving her hand, shooing him away.

“I think he’s kinda cute,” you admitted.

“Yeah, in a sick Victorian kid way,” Nobara was looking at Okkotsu from the midfield with the rest of her classmates. He was quite far from them, but she could already observe him without problems from where she stood. “He looks like he’s ready to go at any time, are we really sure he’s a special grade?”

Megumi scoffed at her question. There was little to underestimate about Yuuta Okkotsu, and his grade was not one of them.

“Hey guys come here!” Panda waved for the first years, “let me introduce you to Yuuta Okkotsu, our classmate and friend.”

Everyone gave a small nod, all with their own reasons as to not make the first step, but overall, the cursed energy he emanated from that distance was enough to keep them away.

“Don’t worry, he’s not gonna bite,” Panda reassured them.

“Not him anyways,” Maki added, making Inumaki chuckle.

“Hello, I’m Yuji Itadori!” The pink haired boy was the first to introduce himself, you couldn’t help but wonder if he trusted Panda enough to do it or he really was just that kind of guy to not care about his own safety. The times you went on missions with him made you think it was the latter.

“Nobara Kugisaki,” she simply said, studying him with her gaze. She only let a beat pass before she added, “You’re really a special grade sorcerer?”

Yuuta could only smile at her, and with the most casual tone he answered her, “uh, yeah, I am.”

“He doesn’t look like one, does he?” Maki snickered, knowing exactly what hid behind the false appearances.

“I guess…” Nobara continued, still quite skeptical. Her reply mostly being for his appearances. “Well, my friend here thinks differently.”

Your eyes widened, “I didn’t say anything!”

“You said he was kinda cute!” Nobara reminded you. Your eyes were almost falling out of your eye sockets.

You were not the only one. Everyone present was quite taken aback by that comment. Not really expecting that at the moment. Yuuta couldn’t help but glance towards Inumaki, the boy’s face was half hidden, but he knew his friend enough to notice that little frown between his brows forming.

“And I guess you must be [name], right?” Yuuta tried his best to break the ice that was formed. You frowned at him, confused as to how he could possibly know your name. Catching on your reaction he continued, “Sorry if that sounded weird. I was away for missions, but my friends kept me updated about everything and everyone… Inumaki especially talked to me, so of course I’d know of you.”

“Oh, well, yeah that’s me,” you chuckled, then turned towards Inumaki, his gaze was avoiding yours. He spoke about you? You quickly shook the newly forming delusions away. He must speak of every single one of you.

That’s just the kind of person Inumaki Toge was in your eyes. Sweet, kind, considerate, and so loving and caring about other people. To the point where he would limit his entire life to a few ingredients just to make it a little bit safer for everyone around him.

“Why are you here anyways, Yuuta?”

“Well, I wasn’t around for Christmas and New Years, at least on Valentine's Day I could spend it with my other single friends!” Yuuta cheered.

“Single?” Panda asked skeptically before whispering, “Is that safe to say for you?”

Yuuta could only chuckle, but you, Nobara, and Itadori were left confused. Itadori was the only one mouthful enough to bother to ask, “does Okkotsu-senpai have a girlfriend?” Others hesitated to answer, and when they did Itadori was quick to add thinking he got it wrong, “or boyfriend? …Partner, perhaps? …lover?”

“Yuuutaaa,” a screeching voice came out of nowhere bringing the three first years ready for combat, sensing the cursed energy around them becoming heavier out of nowhere.

“Calm down,” Maki warned, and you weren’t sure if she was referring to you first years who were instinctively in fighting positions, or Yuuta and whatever entity that was slowly appearing from behind him.

Everything within you, every training combat and exercise was pushing you over the edge to attack, but you hesitated. You pulled yourself and your instincts back, knowing well that if it was an enemy, your second years would be the first to react. With a deep breath, you calmed yourself down.

“Rika, it’s okay,” Yuuta was… reassuring the creature?

You frowned. Unsure how to react and even less sure what to think. Was that what made him a special grade? Was that even a cursed technique?

“Yuutaaa, why are they flirting with youuu?”

The voice seemed to reverb until your bones, chilling your spine. But the tone seemed like that of a child throwing a tantrum, something about it seemed odd. It wasn’t until Panda started explaining the situation that Nobara placed her hammer back in her belt and Itadori let go of his tight fists.

“Sorry for having spooked you,” Yuuta apologised quickly after the explanation.

“It’s alright!” Itadori was the first to smile at him, “I understand your predicament.”

“Predicament uh, big words from you,” Megumi scoffed. “Trying to impress or something?”

“Shut up,” Itadori gritted his teeth.

The second years all laughed, and Yuuta went back to the topic he was hoping to have since he came, “anyways, I was hoping we could all do something for the fourteenth? It’s a Friday so we all could go do something after classes…”

“I think that’s a fun idea!” Itadori cheered at the thought of being able to go out with his friends, “Maybe we can watch a movie?”

“I would love that!” Yuuta smiled fondly at the pink haired boy, “It’s been ages since I’ve been to the movies…”

“I’m going if we’re not watching one of those weird movies with long ass titles you like,” Nobara sighed.

“I heard they’re making a release of rom-com movies for the week of Valentines,” you brought up the ad you recently searched. It was in your plans to invite Inumaki for a date, but you knew that was never going to happen. This group activity could be the closest thing you could get to seeing him during Valentine’s day.

“Perfect!” Itadori looked through his phone to buy tickets for everyone before anyone could even agree on coming.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

You were a coward.

Or at least that’s what you have been thinking of. Hiding behind the opportunity of hanging out with everyone to avoid confessing your love and asking Inumaki on a date. Both Panda and Nobara have been cheering for you since the winter holidays to take a step, and you were sure that this Valentine’s was going to be your perfect opportunity. However, it all went to smoke when Yuuta came around (you pathetically excused yourself). Or maybe he gave you the opportunity to see Toge on Valentine’s day without having to confess your feelings.

With this new motivation you thought of what you could possibly do to make the day a little bit more special for him. Maybe a Valentine’s gift was going to be enough? Or was that too forward?

You thought of giving him chocolate. But only giving him while giving others nothing felt kind of weird. So you started making everyone some cookies, something different from his but still made from the heart. But by the time you made everyone a pack of cookies, you noticed how his chocolates paled in comparison to homemade cookies. Sure you didn’t want his gift to stand out, but now it seemed like it was too little.

You racked your brain over what else you could do, but before you realised it, the first few rays of sun came through the window and you knew you had no more time to do anything else. You still had to prepare to go to class and fix the kitchen. With a calming breath, you told yourself that you’d have time during the lunch break. So without battling yourself over it for longer, you quickly cleaned the utensils and counter you used.

You almost didn’t make it to class in time, but fortunately, your training as a sorcerer was helpful to you in more ways than just fighting curses. Classes that day went smoothly. Well, not smoothly, more like they were just background noise for all the thoughts you were getting for later than day.

“Hey let’s have lunch at th–”

“Sorry but I have to do something right now!” You said running away already, giving them no time to say anything.

“Where is she going?” Panda asked, confused to see you running away.

It wasn’t often that everyone would have lunch together. Usually it was first years with first years, and second years among themselves. Often everyone would have their lunch alone too as they had their own things going on. But that was one of the rare times when Okkotsu was home from his long term missions, so they all decided to take advantage of that by spending more time together.

“We don't know either…” Itadori admitted.

“Girl things?” Megumi offered it as an excuse but he honestly didn’t care much. Compared to Itadori, he trusted you to do stuff on your own without getting in too much trouble.

Inumaki stayed quiet, not even offering an ingredient as an addition to the conversation as he usually does. The only one noticing his gaze fixed on you running away towards the dorm rooms was Yuuta.

“She’s probably okay,” he reassured his friend by putting a hand on his shoulder. “She doesn’t seem the kind of person to go through troubles by herself.”

“Tuna tuna,” the boy replied, his gaze lowering to the chocolate he hid in his pocket.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Other than your absence, the break went quickly and without a hitch. Everyone had a laugh sharing stories with each other. While for the afternoon classes, you were, once again, tardy, but nothing too outrageous to get the teachers to complain. Their annoyance seemed dissipated thanks to the sweet smell that came from the big paper bag you had with you.

Itadori couldn’t help himself, he had to ask about it. He leaned to the side and whispered closer to you, “What do you have there?”

“It’s just a little gift,” you giggled to yourself.

“It’s for Inumaki-senpai, isn’t it?” Nobara leaned in to join the conversation.

“Aww dang,” Itadori pouted back into his seat, his groan a little too loud catching a stern look from their teacher. He lowered his voice again, hoping it would be low enough to not be reprimanded despite knowing he could be heard anyways, “I wanted something too…”

“Just wait for later!” You tried to keep your voice low.

Patience wasn’t one of Itadori’s virtues. He kept poking at you during class, after class, on the way to the cinema, and when they were in line to claim their tickets. The others weren’t phased by anything at this point, especially when it came to Itadori, but Yuuta was new to the bunch.

“You guys seem like a good pair,” he said, smiling at you and Itadori. There was only a beat, before he realised his choice of word and had to add, “I meant that as a like platonic pair –like good friends–”

“Yeah,” Itadori laughed, “I imagined.”

“But what are you guys doing?” He asked, “Is this a normal occurrence?”

“More than you’d think,” Maki sighed.

“It would stop if you could finally spill the beans,” Nobara poked at you. “What are you hiding?”

You looked at the remaining line for the movies. There was still quite a line, pairs of people for the most part, and those that weren’t were a group of girls celebrating in pink –galentines, you thought. There would be enough time before your group’s turn so you decided to take the opportunity at your grasp.

Putting down the paper bag, you started grabbing the elaborated pink bags tied each with a different coloured ribbon. Analysing the colours of the ribbons, you started to distribute them to all the different members of the group.

The green one to Maki. You assumed she’d prefer a darker chocolate flavour, given how much she enjoyed coffee in the early mornings. Similarly to Megumi’s, which was tied with a teal ribbon, who received coffee flavoured cookies from you.

In your hand you still had a red ribbon confection and there was no question to who it would go to. Even Nobara was eagerly looking at the bag with her favourite colour. The girl grabbed it from your hand before you could even offer it to her. Soft and chunky cookies inside, just like she likes them. Similar to hers, but bigger in size, was Panda’s. His bag was also the biggest one among the ones she held. A black ribbon wrapped around it tightly.

After giving Panda his bag, there were only two more remaining. Yuji awaited his turn impatiently, his feet marching in place as a way to stimulate his eagerness. You almost wanted to keep his bag to tease him, but his face made you guilty enough to give his next. A bag adorned with a pink ribbon, and different flavoured cookies inside to reflect his chaotic nature.

“Yaaay! Nothing beats homemade cookies!” He celebrated them above everyone’s head the moment he had them in hand.

Everyone chuckled at the boy, his enthusiasm contagious to everyone. But it wasn’t enough to keep Toge distracted for long. He looked at the last bag you held in hand, and could smell the sweet sweet cookies that fought their way out of the white ribbon.

“And this one…” you held the bag in front of you, “is for you!”

It wasn’t only Inumaki who was speechless, but among everyone was Yuuta, who hesitantly reached out for the bag you were handing him, “Me…? I–I wasn’t expecting anything… we–”

“Of course you get some too!” You laughed as if it was an obvious thing.

“Uh… how about Inumaki-senpai?” Itadori pointed out what everyone was thinking.

At his question, a dust of pink blush, similar to his ribbon, tainted your cheeks. You were trying to avoid doing this in front of everyone, but with everyone’s eyes on you, you had no choice. You opened up your purse, instead of the paper bag, hesitantly, hoping for an escape. And there it was, like the Gods answered your prayer.

“Next!” The lady called out for them.

This was enough to grab everyone’s attention to the cashier lady. In between busy choosing the movies and which seats to take, you took this opportunity to grab the purple tupperware from your purse and push it against Inumaki’s side.

“For you,” you whispered. “Happy valentines, Inumaki-senpai.”

You didn’t even let him say anything before you rushed your way after the other first years, who were arguing if it was better to have all seats in one row or take two rows of equal numbers.

“She gave you… tupperware?” Panda peaked over Inumaki’s shoulder, “Are the cookies inside?”

Inumaki could only shrug his shoulders. Some part of him wanted to have a cute bag with a ribbon too, but he shoved that feeling aside. He was about to eat cookies you prepared for him, who cared what they came into?

He carefully opened the tub but instead of the sweet smell of cookies he smelt the familiar scent of… onigiri?

The two looked at the tupperware container holding two rows of onigiris carefully placed over purple sheer paper. There was a moment of silence between them as they stared at the rice balls, before Panda started laughing dropping on the floor, catching the attention of people around them.

The silver haired boy could only frown and send a kick to his friend, “Bonito flakes!”

But the panda only laughed more at the unintended pun, “t-that’s right! There are bonito flakes –This may be the best prank ever!”

Toge looked back at the tupperware to notice one of the onigiris to have bonito flakes on top of it. That wasn’t common to have from store-bought onigiris –these were home-made, he concluded. With one look he searched for you among the first years, unsure truly how to react or feel about the gift he received. Although, once found the little bow on your head amongst the others, his doubts were somehow cleared.

How could he not have noticed before?

“What’s your favourite colour, senpai?” You once asked him once when the flowers were blooming and offered a various range of colours for him to pick on without having to speak out loud.

Inumaki looked pensive for a bit. Then pointed at a violet that was by her hand, “tuna mayo.”

You followed his finger with your gaze. For a second you thought he referred to your new set of nails, but then noticed the violet in between your pinky and ring finger.

“Violet?” You asked to clarify.

He gave a single nod, “Salmon.”

“It’s a pretty colour!” You affirmed, “they’re similar to your eyes…”

Inumaki was once again grateful for the collar that hid his face and his red. Hoping to change the attention from himself to you, he pointed his finger back at you, “mustard?”

“Me?” You asked before thinking about it. You aren’t sure why you had to think about it. You knew what your favourite colour was. It has always been white. The infinite possibilities white could hold is far too alluring for you to not have it as your favourite colour. But after seeing the purple in Inumaki’s eyes, you hesitated for a bit. What were possibilities compared to the certainty that you found in him? “W-white,” you finally admitted after a moment too long.

Inumaki looked up at the sky, his gaze pensive and they looked farther away than where you ever could, but then he pointed at the clouds. You could only nod, smiling at him.

“Yes, like the clouds.”

He then looked down at the ground. Picking a single daisy, he offered it to you.

“Yes, like daisies.” You reached out for it and twirled it between your two fingers, “and mongolias… and jasmines –my favourite!”

Inumaki looked at you, his head tilted, “Mustard?”

“Yeah, I love Jasmines, they smell like comfort!”

Inumaki seemed to think about something for a bit, then brought his hand to his hair, he grabbed a few strands from his bangs and looked at it making cross eyes you giggled at. Then he looked through his bangs and directly at you, “Mustard?”

You frowned slightly unsure if you understood him correctly. This seemed to not translate to you in his ingredients, so he shifted his body towards you and clearly showed his hands. Back then, he was already studying sign language from the book you have gifted him on his birthday. He was still quite choppy on his sign language but he was getting the hang on it quicker than you did.

You knew his intentions and with a focused eye, you followed his hands as he unzipped his collar down. A sign of vulnerability from him, you learned. You tried to not get entranced by the snake fangs by each side of his mouth and forced your eyes to follow his hands instead. With all his fingers together he twisted the tips of them against each other. Colour.

“Colour?” You repeated his sign out loud and he gave you a nod.

He then pointed his pointer to his teeth showing his own fangs. The small smile he formed as he signed and flicked his finger, made you almost forget what he was trying to say. You shook your head trying to regain focus, but poor Toge assumed you didn’t know that particular sign and looked up instead to point at a new cloud. Then back to your daisy that still rested between your fingers.

You nodded and repeated the sign for the colour white by grinning your teeth out and flick your pointer finger against it. “White,” you spoke out before bringing your two fingers at each side of your cheek as you dropped your hand down, your two fingers met at the tip of your chin. “I like the colour white.” Before a pause you added without sign language, “My favourite.”

He couldn’t avoid a smile at your words. He pointed at you before repeating your own sign. You. Bringing his fingers to his chins, highlighting his snake eyes, and dropping his hand to meet his two fingers to the tip of his chin. Like. Then he pointed at his forehead.

“Y-You…” You gaped before finally realising, “...r hair.”

He nodded and you could not keep in a smile, “yes, I do like your hair colour.”

White was your favourite colour. That was not something Toge would forget anytime soon. That was the colour of his hair, the colour of the flowers you smelt like, the colour of endless possibility. Ever since that afternoon at the field of flowers with you, he has seen the colour in a different way.

He looked at your ribbon again, the one that held your hair together, but it wasn’t white like it usually would be to match your uniform, it was purple instead. His favourite colour. The same colour as the paper that held all his onigiri safe. Perhaps he didn’t get a bag with a purple ribbon, but he looked at his own colour on the ribbon that was tied on your hair.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

The movie was a hit. Everyone fell in love with the characters as much as they fell in love with each other. Itadori in particular was ecstatic over the ending.

“I can’t believe she wasn’t dead after all!” He jumped as everyone followed on the way back home, “I still don’t understand how it happened…”

“Of course you don’t, simpleton,” Megumi commented a few steps behind.

“It wasn’t said in the movie!” Itadori fought him.

“There are implications!” Megumi scoffed.

As the two argued between themselves you couldn’t help but laugh. It was nice to have a moment with them like that. With studying and missions, it was hard to find a time where everyone could act like normal kids –as normal as a sorcerer could get anyways. Having a literal panda walk with you guys didn’t really keep the attention away from the group. You could only guess the things going on inside people’s heads. But you assumed, just like you did when you met him for the first time, that people thought he was just one of those people who liked to get into anthropomorphic animal costumes.

You looked behind you to check on the said friend, beside him, of course, there was Inumaki who already had his eyes on you. You knew it was too late, but you still looked away and hoped he didn’t pay mind to you. After giving him his valentine's gift, you weren’t sure how he would react, but he hasn’t said anything and that made you more anxious.

“You should make a move,” Yuuta approached him after witnessing the very short interaction.

“Tuna?”

“You never know when it’s too late,” the boy shrugged. “Sorcerers like us don’t have the privilege of time.”

Toge couldn’t look away from his friend. He was right, with all the missions you both had to go through, even more now after Sukuna’s return, there were no promises of a tomorrow. He only had today and his feelings. And with nothing more than that, the boy gave his friend a thankful wave as he caught up to you, who walked ahead of them.

You, in turn, hoped for any kind of reaction for your gift, a comment, a sign. You weren’t really expecting a grand thank you, but nothing seemed a bit too much. Sure you walked away the moment you passed the gift, but part of you was hoping for even a nod from the distance.

You felt a tap on your shoulder and you knew it was him.

“Kelp,” he greeted you with a gentle nod.

“Hey, did you enjoy the movie?” You asked, hoping that the question would lead him astray from the thought of your onigiris. But it only did so much as he nodded again.

“Tuna tuna,” he changed the subject again, pointing at your purple ribbon.

You followed his hand, something you found yourself accustomed to at that point. “Ah yes, it’s new, do you like it?”

He paused before nodding at you, “salmon.”

“Seems like you hesitated there,” you chuckled, teasing him, but it didn’t seem to budge him at all.

“Onigiri,” you heard him say, that new word made you almost snap your head towards him in surprise. You weren’t quite sure if he meant that literally or if he was using new food-related words to communicate his thoughts. With a slight frown you tried to look for the answer in his subtle expressions.

“Onigiri…?”

He nodded, grabbing the tupperware you gave him from his bag, “onigiri.”

“Oh,” you nodded, “yes, onigiri.”

He then placed the tupperware back into his bag, allowing him to use his hands for signs. You watch him as he placed his left hand flat over a pointer finger directed towards you. With one single movement, he pointed towards you. Why?“Why onigiris?” you asked clarifying, he hummed at your interpretation. “Well, I thought you’d like to have onigiris, I just assumed they were your favourites since you chose the ingredients to be your vocabulary… Did I get it wrong?” “Bonito flakes!” Your worried expression made him shake his head as quickly as he could, hoping to shoo away your doubts. “Tuna mayo.”

“Yeah,” you chuckled. The sound of your light laughter was too soft for Inumaki to hear over the chatter of the people around. Especially with Itadori having a full conversation with Nobara right in front of you. He had it in mind to curse them to shut up for a second, just to hear your giggle better. But he quickly moved that bad idea aside when you spoke again. “Each of them have different ingredients inside, I made one of each of the ones you mention the most –There are two of tuna mayo, your favourite.”

Toge could only smile fondly at your words, his chest fluttering with affection towards you, even more than before. He thought about the savoury snacks he had in his backpack, and then of all the cookies and chocolates that were being exchanged throughout the nation at that moment, and he felt like he had the best deal out of all of them. You didn’t simply give him chocolate, like he initially would have wished for, but took time to think about what he would have liked most and actually make it. He puffed his chest lightly at the new treasure he held in his bag, eager to take a taste of them as soon as he could.

“Do you like it?” You asked, looking at him, as you all walked down the street, now closer to your school, “Maybe I should have given you cookies too…”

“Bonito flakes!”

“So you’re okay with it?”

He smiled at you, and he looked around before placing a hand on your shoulder. You looked at him in slight surprise, but his gaze was directed towards Panda, “Tuna tuna.”

The friend smiled at him and gave him a single nod, as the others continued to walk away. You saw Panda pulling Itadori away by his hood. Something about wanting to watch being mumbled away. Without Itadori and the rest, there was a soft silence around you, realising how much quieter things were when it was only you and Inumaki. Nothing awkward, just peaceful. But what did warrant for such quiet and for your friends to go ahead without you both? Your delusions were already jumping everywhere, and you had to push them away before you could get ahead of yourself.

Your gaze turned back to Toge, who had his eyes already on you. “Is there something wrong?” You asked unsure. You felt like there was something to be said, but couldn’t bring yourself to take the first step to leading the conversation.

He shook his head, before zipping down his collar. You were quite sure that he was going to use Sign again, so you followed his hands closely to focus. But to your surprise, he brought his fingers to your chin and gently pulled your face up to meet his eyes.

This simple gesture was enough to cause you to sweat cold. You fidgeted with your fingers hoping to distract yourself from his, that were still on your chin.

“Inumaki-senpai?” You asked hoping he would finally get to the point. You weren’t sure how much longer you could handle being so close to him without breathing.

He took a step back, much to your health. But his gaze was still fixed into yours, silently guiding you to not look away. Not that you could even if you wanted to, his eyes were as hypnotising as that of a snake luring a prey.

Then he did what you didn’t expect him to, he began to open his mouth.

“I…” he attempted, “have been practicing.”

You swore your heart stopped the moment he opened his mouth and began to beat only at each word he spoke. Unsure if you were supposed to ruin the moment, you kept quiet, not daring even to move a muscle, afraid you might miss something.

He seemed to be thinking about it for a bit, then with careful breathing, he spoke again, “I have been practicing, to not infuse my words with cursed energy.” He paused as he breathed in a big chunk of air. You wondered if it took a lot of him to do so.

“That’s amazing, senpai,” you said before you even realised you were talking. Perhaps when Inumaki could talk, it was you who was rendered speechless. You looked for words to say as he smiled at you clearly quite proud of himself. “Since when?”

He paused before answering. For the first few times he did so, you thought it was because he was thinking about what to say, but it seemed like he was actually selecting which words to use. Despite him keeping from infusing his words with cursed speech he still deliberately thought of words that were still relatively safe to speak, just in case.

“Since New Year’s Eve,” he carefully enunciated his syllables.

You couldn't contain your own smile, “You’ve made amazing progress!”

He smiled back at you and gave a small polite bow, “Tuna mayo.”

You giggled at his favourite onigiri ingredient. Perhaps he was still more at ease with speaking like that. And to properly show his gratitude, he was going to do it with ease.

Then he took another deep breath in and nodded to himself. You watched him patiently, hoping for more words from him. It was cold, middle of february but spring was still so far away from arriving in the hills of Tokyo. But you paid no mind, you could stay there for an entire day and a night if it meant that you could have a conversation with Toge.

“I wanted to be able to speak properly with you,” he said after having attentively selected his words. He imagined everyone would practice their speech to themselves and to a mirror before giving it, and although he did so too, it still didn’t feel enough for him. Nerves got to him quickly as he inched closer to where he was aiming. He looked at you, hoping to gain courage from it, but it only made him even more nervous.

In the long pause, you assumed he was done, so with a small smile you tilted your head, “that’s sweet, Inumaki-senpai.”

“Wait–” he shook his head, “Ikura.”

Your eyes widened slightly, shutting up. It was faint, but you felt the tingle of a cursed energy in his ‘wait’. It didn’t hurt, you noticed, his cursed speech never did hurt you. But it was an odd sensation crawling into your skin and grabbed onto your very muscle cells, forcing you to comply by pure force. There was worry in his eyes, as he noticed it too, but you smiled at him hoping to reassure the boy. With a single nod from you, he was able to breathe again. Perhaps your actions too had the same effect on him as his cursed speech. It took so little from you for him to change emotions and follow your silent commands.

“I wanted to tell you so many things,” he continued his thoughts from earlier. For the first time ever since you’ve known him, it was him speaking and you were listening. It was a dream that you never thought would be real. It made you so grateful for your world of curses, spirits, and impossibilities.

“I like the colour white too now,” he admitted out of nowhere, remembering that one afternoon in the field of flowers.

“And I don’t actually like fish eggs…” he said, recalling that one time you offered some to him and he could only grimace at you. You never knew why he did, but now you knew it wasn’t directed at you.

“I don’t like morning assemblies,” he admitted before carefully selecting his next few words, “that’s why I never go.” –That’s why you never see me. He wished to say, knowing from Panda how often you looked for him during the assemblies. But if he said those words he was scared you would go blind, or worse, you’d never see him specifically.

He took a deep breath and then, just as he practiced, “I wanted to thank you for Christmas,” he said remembering how it was her idea to bring everyone to visit him, “and that I am sorry for taking your last grape on New Year’s Eve.” You tried to hide your smile at the memory. At the time, you were stunned and flustered, but looking back it was quite silly. But if that memory was not going to make you blush, his next words would have been enough to do so.

“And that you looked very beautiful.”

He smiled looking at you. Perhaps because he started to get the hang of it, he wasn’t feeling as nervous as earlier. But the more he spoke and the more he looked at you, he could only find more courage to spill all his secrets. To give you everything he had. To tell you every single thought he ever had selfishly hoping you’d keep them all.

“I was going to tell you on New Year’s Eve,” he continued before chuckling to himself, “but we got interrupted.”

The memory of your silent conversation on New Year’s Eve came back at you. The way he held his fingers on each side of his cheek close to expressing how he felt. You kept your eyes fixed on him, afraid to even blink. Afraid that in that fraction of a second where you blinked, your lashes might swipe him away from you or miss his words.

You had a vague feeling of what was to come. He was so close to telling you so many times that you developed so many ‘What-If’ scenarios that all of them resembled the one where you were in at the moment. You prayed to all the Gods looking over at you two, to the saint of Valentine’s day, that nothing would interrupt you anymore.

“This might be nothing compared to your onigiri, but…” You watched him as he pulled a chocolate bar from his pocket, and with another deep breath in, a solemn look, and a fond smile, he offered both the chocolate and his feelings to you, “I like you.”

64 notes · View notes

utilitycaster · 2 days ago

Note

can you explain what you mesn by monkey ladder in reference to the CR fandom? as someone from C1 i would probably be able to give you the insight you asked for in your tags but im unsure of the angle you are coming from.

Oh yeah, it describes a phenomenon I've repeatedly seen in all aspects of my life but I wasn't aware there was an idiom for it. Basically, it describes how communities/institutions continue following patterns of behavior even when said behaviors are in response to a no-longer relevant problem and even when the people who originated said behaviors and remember the original reason are gone.

So: imagine an experiment with five monkeys, a ladder, and bananas on top of the ladder. Whenever a monkey goes for the ladder to reach the bananas, a researcher sprays all the monkeys with ice water. After enough attempts, the monkeys, understandably, begin attacking any one of them that reaches for the ladder in order to avoid this punishment.

The researchers then swap out one of the monkeys for a new monkey. When the new monkey reaches for the ladder, the other monkeys attack them and prevent them from reaching it.

They then swap out another monkey, and when the second new monkey reaches for the ladder, not only do the other monkeys attack them - the first "new" monkey joins in. And so on. Eventually, you can reach a point where all five monkeys in the room have never even been sprayed with ice water. They don't know why they are attacking people who reach for the ladder other than that they were attacked for reaching for the ladder. And here's the kicker: the researchers haven't sprayed anyone in ages, and actually, they've turned off the water, and if someone reached for the ladder, they'd be fine. But they won't.

So it's about groups enforcing behaviors that arose in response to something specific that is no longer present, even after the group no longer recalls, necessarily, why it was present.

Anyway: as someone with the specific experience of watching campaign 1 and early campaign 2 concurrently, having started with Campaign 2, ie, joined the fandom in Campaign 2 and have been here ever since, the following viewpoints are all imo "monkey-ladder" problems: people carrying forward stereotypes/fandom behaviors that I think originated in Campaign 1 but which many new fans never actually experienced:

specifically the one I mentioned in my previous post - the idea that Sam and Travis make stupid joke characters and aren't taking this seriously. (This sometimes splits into Sam Makes Dumb Joke Characters And Travis Is Himself A Stupid Person. The latter has fortunately abated but it was still alive and kicking as late as early C3)

The idea that Marisha and Laura; or Taliesin and Liam, make characters with exceptional romantic chemistry with each other. (They didn't have this in C1 either; while chemistry is obviously a subjective metric I find these specifically two of the weakest cases of cast romantic chemistry and definitely the two weakest of same gender cast romantic chemistry but they were held up as the only viable PC/PC queer romances given that Ashley was often absent, Grog wasn't interested, and people wrote off Scanlan as a dumb joke and Tary came around after Percy and Vex were already together)

Any criticism of Marisha is Forbidden Forever due to the harassment she received in C1 (we got monkeys who joined the fandom mid-C3 beating up people who were like I'm Not Vibing With Laudna who had been staunch Keyleth defenders during the actual run of C1, for example)

I'm sure there's others that aren't coming to mind but this is a good starting point: basically, it's people who weren't in the fandom in C1 and might not even have seen Campaign 1 carrying over opinions that really only made sense in Campaign 1 and honestly weren't even good then.

For a fun interrogation of this (carryover of an opinion/behavior with no other reason than This Is What I Was Told When I Joined) within the context of an actual play, see Iga Lisowski in The Unsleeping City 2.

#so called free thinkers etc #answered #anonymous

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savage-sinister · 22 hours ago

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If you're a person who thinks "we should keep triggering material out of fiction" instead of "people have a responsibility to avoid triggering material and manage themselves when they're triggered" I urge you to read this description of what happened to me last night.

Triggers I encountered one after another last night:

La Pucelle:

Catholic-adjacent religion and religious instruction

Being put down and insulted by authority figures

Abuse of authority portrayed as righteous

Physical abuse as a means of control by a religious figure (played for laughs)

Censorship as a means of control by a religious figure (played for laughs)

Rhapsody 2:

Lesbian character pining for her best friend who is looking for a hetero relationship to fulfill the expected lifescript

Physical child abuse portrayed as loving, righteous and necessary

Emotional child abuse uncommented on

Emphasis on filial piety and fulfilling the path your parents have for you

Parental emphasis on a female child's role as a mother and creator of heirs

Gender issues resulting from attempting to fulfil filial piety when female

Weddings and babies as happy endings

Characters with gender issues getting married and having babies

I didn't realize how massively triggered I was until after I had already:

been shifting positions on the couch repeatedly trying to get comfortable

got angry for "no reason" and yelled at my cat

spoke more roughly than I intended to to my partner

cried off and on for two hours

asked to go to bed early

cried some more

And only then when I was laying down in bed did I have the presence of mind to reflect and go, 'oh wait, all of that was really triggering. Like, so triggering I have a lot of it written down in my pinned post so that people don't bring the topics up to me'. Only then did it click why I had gotten mad and why I had started crying.

And like, you might ask 'well how did you not know that you were triggered', but that's just a thing that happens with CPTSD. It sneaks up on you. None of those things I listed in what triggered me sounds all that bad! Like, when it happens you go 'oh yeah that sucks' maybe, if you even register it, but there it is preying at the back of your mind like a vampire.

My eyes are actually stinging as I write this to get it off my chest.

Rhapsody 2 and La Pucelle are a couple of classic, pixel graphic RPGs from NIS with a fantasy setting and a heavily fairytale inspired style. Rhapsody 2 is a musical, and La Pucelle has themes of Joan of Arc.

When I sat down to play these games (happily! willinging!) I was prepared for two triggers. I was all prepared and armed up for 'religion and religious education' and 'Weddings and babies as happy endings'. Everything else took me by surprise, caught of off guard, and slid a knife into my ribs.

They punched all my buttons in rapid fire combo without me noticing and then "fist of the north star"ed me. By the time I'd noticed I was already fucked up over it.

"Why am i upset?" Oh, just because there was a ton of triggering content in the happy fairytale baby game for children

In La Pucelle:

Prier is a child being raised as a demon hunter for the church. She is repeatedly put down for her 'unrealistic' dreams and goals, and when she does something that her superior doesn't like, she's hit and gaslit about it. (Told that she was punished by the goddess.) This is played for laughs.

Every time Prier gets upset and says something that her superior doesn't like, her superior tells her she's never allowed to use the word she used again. (this is played for laughs.)

In Rhapsody 2:

Princess Kururu is going on a journey to 'find her prince to marry', accompanied by two knights, and by her childhood best friend Crea who loves her and never wants to be separated from her. Crea gets swallowed by a fish by accident but she's confident that Kururu will save her and refers to Kururu as her own prince while Kururu is absent.

After Crea is rescued, the lady knight who accompanied Kururu (named Sonia) smacks Kururu hard across the face because she "needed to be taught a lesson" and "everyone is too soft with her". This is a repeat of a moment from Rhapsody 1 where another character's father smacks her across the face and the narrative treats this as something that she needed and was done because he loves her and she's a spoiled brat.

Directly after Sonia hits Kururu we then learn Sonia's backstory. Sonia is the only child of a famous knight who desperately wants a son to carry on his legacy, but his wife is too weak to have another child. Sonia is put down for her aspiration to become a knight and her father's heir herself, and told that she should be getting married and having a child to fulfill her duty to him. Sonia expresses that she has no interest at all in men. Spoilers! Sonia's happy ending is that she gets married to the other knight and has a baby!

And those things, one after another, were, I guess, enough to reduce us to a crying, yelling mess without even realizing what was happening. Which is stupid! None of this shit should be enough to do that to someone, but it is.

So please, if you're a person who thinks "We should keep all triggering material out of fiction" remember that you don't know what triggers people, and if we censored everything triggering from fiction you're gonna have to remember to never write anything that triggers me, too.

Triggers aren't just sexual assault and violence. Triggers are babies, weddings, churches, and gender issues.

#actually cptsd #fandom wank #fandom #proship #mental health issues #writer is plural “i” is used throughout for simplicity #on writing #anti censorship

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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 6 hours ago

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@zepskies

Karl Urban and Bruce Willis' fight to Back In the Saddle is literally everything to me! It lives rent free forever in my head! But I will forever be disappointed that Karl Urban didn't come back for the second movie 😭

You should watch Knight and Day if you haven't seen it. It's like Red but with Tom Cruise and Cameron Diaz and it's an action Rom-com.

Also you're spoiling me with all of these wonderful reviews 🥰💗

Ahh the "hear me out" thing is so relatable lmao. But Marlin?! Really?! 🤣🤣

It really is the best thing to do with your friends 🤣 My friend group has a chat where all we do is send photos of our "hear me out" characters lol.

Oh God, you're giving me Vietnam War-level flashbacks to undergrad when I was stuck until 12 am at the library working on essays and shiz. 🫠

I'm sorry, but man it's so relatable. I was up for hours studying for physics tests that I never understood. I hated Physics... I mean I know it's real and that it exists, but I don't need to know why things work the way they do. They work and I believe it, that's it 🤣

GIRL PLSSS. 💀💀💀 Not "daddy gorilla." 🤣

🤣 I had to do it LMAO! I'm ashamed 🫣

Okay, lmfao. I'ma need you to stop calling me out like this. 😂😂

Its funny because I was one million percent calling myself out with this. Girl, you had no idea how many romance novels I read lol, but I love the use of the "You're out of order gif" so much 🤣

But I so love the description of Russell -- he's a man in a sea of man-boys our age, and there's a distinct difference. 😏

Amen 🙌🏻 That's why we like men in their 40's, because they're experienced and they actually know how to treat a woman. 😉

LMFAO. Reading this snippet in context is of course even better. I'm dying but also she would so be me in this situation. 😝

Thank you sweetie 😘 Yeah, I wanted to make her a little bit more realistic and not as confident or practiced lol. She's literally me whenever an attractive man talks to me. 😭

OMG YESSSSS. Lmfao Rain was beautiful! And I love that you referenced one of my favorite movies. 😆😆 Totally agree that Nala had bedroom eyes. And I raise you Robin Hood from the Disney movie! They did NOT have to draw him that sexy.

Dory is a horsegirlie and I will make Russell the cute older brother that had to endure her obsession! But I might have also been thinking about cowboy Dean and your follow up series Outlander. I'm so excited to jump back into that world!

Oh my word Robin Hood is peak disney animation- they had no business making a fox that sexy 🤣. And he was GOOD WITH KIDS and a GOOD PERSON! Robin Hood walked so Nick Wilde could run in Zootopia and that is the hill I will die on!

Miss ma'am!! Don't make me bring out the Out of Order gif again! I had to fan myself when he literally caught her hand. Dear Lord. 🫠 Also, the way I was so shocked and literally laughed out loud at the way she headbutted him. 🤣 Honestly that would probably be me trying to flirt. A+ casting 😂👌🏽 But again, that spice and the way he kissed her melted me like the Wicked Witch of the West. ❤️‍🔥

The man is too smooth 😉 I'm going to be honest the original draft didn't have the headbutt, but then her kissing Russell like that seemed too easy for her and she needed to be more awkward lol. I needed her to embarrass herself and I wanted to suffer from second hand embarrassment lol

"A+ casting" ☠️🤣 LOL

Thank you! Russell is really working her, but he's also making her feel comfortable with her awkwardness lol

lmaooo sage advice! 😂

Kay is the Gandalf of this fic 😂. She's trying to steer the reader in the right direction and support her!

LOL I love her inner monologue. She's so adorkable, but I'm already getting the RED vibes omggg. 🙏🏽

Thank you friend! She is very "adorkable." And yay! I'm glad you're picking up the RED vibes. Of all the Jensen Characters I felt like Russell fit the best for that kind of situation.

It's the little things I love loll. 🤌🏽

Oh goodness thank you! Yeah, Russell protecting her head while she fell is so him and I love him so much for that.

Not me feeling sorry for him right now when she's well within her right to try and beat him with a pink baseball bat. 🤣🤣🤣

She is one million percent within her right to beat him senseless, but I also felt bad for him too. He really isn't a murderer (well... maybe) but he was attacked!

I was smiling so hard while reading the rest of this. I was actually so disappointed to get to the end! This was one helluva meet cute, hun. 💜 The thing about your one-shots is that they feel like the start of a series--of an amazing adventure that's about to start. I know you have probably a million WIPs at this point lol, but this does feel like a RED kind of movie and I would love to see more of these two if you ever feel so inspired. ✨

Yay! I'm happy it made you smile Alex! It really is one crazy meet cute lol

Girl stop, you're making me cry with these compliments 😭💕 I do have about a million WIPS, but I really do love this reader and Russell too. And I would love to continue their story in the future, because I'm obsessed with RED. I might have to watch it again to plot out a series with these two 😉

I Can Explain!

Pairing: Russell Shaw x f!reader, Reader POV

Prompt: "How Do You Know Where I Live?"

Requested by: @vixaaa

Summary: When you meet a gorgeous green-eyed stranger at a bar and agree to go home with him, everything goes off the rails and you're strapped in for the ride.

Tropes: Awkward Rom-Com? Forced Proximity? Protective Russell.

Word Count: 10.6 K (But You'll Laugh The Whole Time)

Warnings: An Unhinged Game of "Hear Me Out," References to Sex, Sexual innuendo, Little bit of self-deprecating thought (reader), Reader is kinda awkward and clumsy, Gunfire, Weapons, Talk of Murder, Shooting?, Brief Description of Torture, Brief Description of Murder, Terror, Fear, Cursing, Kissing, I think that's everything? I promise this one is a rom-com despite all the warnings. 😅

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is no use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Main Masterlist

Prompt Celebration Masterlist

A/N: Hey guys! This is another wonderful prompt request that I got for my prompt celebration from the enchanting @vixaaa! This one is based a little bit on the movies "Knight and Day" and "RED." If you've never seen either of those, go and watch them right now. They are some of my favorites!

P.S: Yes, this is the one I've been writing that has just been making me wheeze/cackle laugh the whole time I wrote it...

“Alright, hear me out… Gil, the angelfish from Finding Nemo. There is no way in hell he was made for kids.” Your friend Liza says wobbling slightly on the plush leather bench seat of the booth before taking a shot of vodka. Her peacock blue No. 2 hair shimmers like a beacon in the dimly lit bar.

“That’s low hanging fruit.” Kay snorts from your left while leaning heavily into your shoulder, the smell of her vanilla perfume wafting up with the movement. “That scar? The tragic backstory? And voiced by Wilem Defoe? Sign me up.”

You giggle into the shot glass clasped in your hand before you knock it back, face scrunching at the taste and pleasant burn.

The “Hear Me Out” drinking game your two best friends proposed to clear your head from the nuclear level bombing of an exam you just took in your Physics One class, had been successful so far. You couldn’t remember any of the questions from the test that made you scream obscenities into the strawberry shaped pillows on the couch in your living room earlier. Exactly where the two of them had found you when they got back to your shared apartment at the end of the day.

The live music in the crowded bar thrummed through your veins and the shots were giving you just the right amount of buzz to feel more carefree than you had in the past week. The week that you’d spent approximately one million hours studying for the test and trying to memorize all the formulas that looked exactly the same.

Four times you’d fallen asleep on your computer and had the imprint of the keyboard on your cheek, three times you’d had a mental breakdown and decided to change your major promising yourself that you were sure you could make it doing freelance whatever the fuck sounded good at that moment, and you couldn’t count the number of times that you’d gone to the library to study only to get distracted by whatever else was better than studying for a physics test.

Spoiler alert, there are a lot of things that are.

But you knew you were screwed the second you saw the first question and the rest of them had only been the final nails in the coffin that was the dream of getting an “A” in the class before the semester was over.

The glimmering sheen of hope at the end of the semester you once had, was ebbing to a dim lantern being swung by a lighthouse keeper in a hurricane, hence the large tray of vodka sitting prettily on the water ringed table in front of you.

You were sure to regret every single shot, but your next exam was two days away and you didn’t want to think about it yet, not when the shadow of the last was poking you in the back with a pencil like someone looking for your final piece of gum.

For a Tuesday night, Duke’s, the bar the three of you frequented so often that the rotating circle of bartenders knew you all by name, was crowded.

There was the familiar glow of the neon signs posted on every wall, a new band performing a set on the small stage in the corner, a collection of screaming girls in the front row of the crowd snapping photos and drooling over the base player, a group of frat guys shouting obscenities at a tv blasting a football game, and a few patrons trying to unwind from a long day while nursing multi colored drinks and sitting sporadically around the crowded bar while the bartender of the hour leaned against the counter and tried to hear orders people shouted over the din.

You would have been more than happy to spend the evening on the couch eating a greasy pizza and drinking margaritas back at the apartment, but Kay and Liza refused to let you rot on the couch.

The three of you had been inseparable since freshman year when you’d been assigned as roommates together. Liza was an art major hoping to illustrate book covers one day, Kay was a hardworking pre-med student, and you were… undecided. Physics 1 had been the idea of your advisor, who after a year of trying to get you to declare a major was close to throwing in the towel, you believed that he was using Physics 1 as a form of payback for driving him almost to the point of early retirement.

“Okay, okay I see you.” Kay giggles, before grabbing a fresh shot. Her long black hair is pulled back from her face with a claw clip, but a few pieces bob around her head with the movement of her head to the music. “And I raise you Kerchak from Tarzan!”

“The daddy gorilla?” Liza asks, leaning into her fiance, Matt, where he lounges back against the faded maroon leather beside her.

There was a half full glass of beer sitting in front of him, one he’d ordered when he found out what everyone else at your table was drinking. But he’d been a good sport so far despite all of his suggestions to the game being so obvious there was no reason for him to defend his choice and the rest of you mocking him endlessly for it.

“Sweetie, he could be my daddy any day of the week.” Kay winks and throws back her shot.

“You’re disgusting.” Liza rolls her eyes, refusing to take a shot to agree with Kay.

“Hey! What happened to ‘we listen and we don’t judge?’” You interrupt, putting your arm around Kay who holds up a middle finger in answer to Liza’s taunt.

“Where was that when I said Jessica Rabbit two turns ago?” Matt grouses from his side of the table, crossing his large arms over his chest. His blond hair had tumbled out of the bun at the back of his neck to cover the grass stain on the collar of his jersey. He’d come straight from practice when Liza called.

And then Kay and you had to suffer through the long make out session the two of them had when they reunited as if they’d been separated by war for fifty years and not two hours. They were recently engaged and you loved Matt, which is why you’d let them make out for exactly thirty seconds before Kay and you started making exaggerated gagging noises while they kissed.

Kay’s boyfriend hadn’t been able to get out of work, but Kay was going to walk to the coffee shop inside the library to pick him up when the tray of shots in the center of the table sat empty. Usually you’d worry about that sort of thing, your friend walking alone on campus at night, but because Kay had the highest tolerance out of all of you, Matt included, and a total badass who welcomed the challenge of anyone who tried to test her, you were willing to let it slide.

That and the three of you tracked each other’s location with your phones.

“Because Jessica Rabbit isn’t a hear me out! Everyone knows that she’s super sexy!” You argue. “She doesn’t fit the criteria of this game!”

“She’s right babe.” Liza says, squeezing his arm with a sympathetic smile. “But it’s okay. I love that you’re a basic bitch.”

“But she’s animated!” Matt exclaims, obviously confused.

“So? Flynn Ryder is animated and he’s every woman’s dream.” You shrug, picking up a glass to take your turn.

You begin to shuffle through the mental file folder you have on characters who possessed “the energy” that made them so attractive. Truthfully, Kay and Liza had already said most of the ones you were thinking.

“You want to talk about every woman’s dream?” Kay smirks, her eyes flick over to the bar. “Check out green eyes over there. Holy shit, I’d let him rock me like a hurricane all day and all night!”

“I’ll be sure to tell Sean, your boyfriend of three years-” You begin to say, but Kay pinches your cheeks between her fingers and turns your head so you can see who she’s talking about.

Oh.

The stranger sitting at the bar is everything she suggested and more. He’s the kind of handsome that didn’t exist outside of the stack of communal romance novels that sat on the bookshelf in your living room and served as the perfect reminder of how single you were.

The man is taller and broader than any of the so-called boys you went to class with each day, his tight fitting dark t-shirt pulling up over muscular arms that rippled with taunt muscles and were decorated with smoky tattoos curling beneath the ink colored sleeves. His chocolate colored hair is long and pushed back over his head, but a few strands hang forward to frame a well defined jaw covered in a thick dusting of facial hair.

Your throat suddenly gets very tight.

The man’s gaze is focused on you, the green of his eyes brilliant, crinkled just around the edges with his smile. He winks and your entire face takes on the identity of a strawberry with your flush.

“Holy shit!” Kay nudges you. “You have to go over there.”

“What?” You squeak. “Are you insane? That guy is-”

“The kind of man who would make you forget all about that physics test?” Liza raises an eyebrow.

“The kind of man who would break the laws of physics with you all night long?” Kay adds. “Babe, come on, it's been months for you. Why don’t you go over there and say hi?”

“No way.” You shake your head vehemently, hyperventilating a little bit at the thought of going up to a complete stranger.

You were not the confident girl in the group that did that. Kay was. It was exactly how she had met her boyfriend Sean three years ago, by using a cheesy pick up line that made him snort so hard he had beer coming out of his nose. Liza wasn’t much better. She’d met Matt in this very bar when her heel broke and she stumbled into where he was sitting with his friends at the bar.

And the truth was it had been a few months since the last relationship (if you could call it that) fizzled out… and with both of your friends in relationships you often were the awkward fifth wheel. It wasn’t that you didn’t like your friends' boyfriends, Matt and Sean were great and they always did their best to make you feel comfortable whenever you were out with everyone, but you were kinda tired of being the spare tire.

“I don’t think we should be encouraging her to go off somewhere with a random man from a bar that she just met.” Matt says with a frown.

Matt often held the braincell in your friend group and was the one who was more focused on making sure that everyone was safe. He was the one who followed up with a text whenever someone left to go home, the one who made sure that everyone stayed together when you were out late, and was usually the designated driver.

“You’re such a hypocrite.” Liza boops Matt on the nose. “You were a random man that I’d never met before. And if I’m not mistaken we met in this very bar.”

“That’s different.” Matt sighs, but he leans towards Liza, the tension dissipating from his shoulders as he looks at her and his frown slips into a smile.

They were one of those couples that no one ever thought would work. Liza was the carefree art major with no plan in the world and Matt was the All American, blue-eyed, blond haired football player that everyone said was “going to do great things” when in reality all Matt wanted to be was Liza’s husband. He didn’t care about anything else, but making her happy. Hence the giant engagement ring on her finger, the same one that he’d let her design because he knew that was important to her.

They were everything you wanted in your own relationship. A beautiful merging of crazy (from you) with someone stable and structured, preferably someone with a strong jaw, brilliant green eyes and-

Great, he’s already invaded my subconscious.

You glance up again to see if the stranger is still looking. He is, but this time his smile is just a little wider, and you watch his eyes drag down the length of your body for a moment appreciatively before flicking back up to yours and catches you doing the same thing.

You weren’t wearing anything revealing, in fact, you hadn’t bothered dressing up to go out because you didn’t feel like it. You were still wearing the blank sweatpants and oversized sweatshirt combo that you’d worn to your exam.

When you caught him looking at you, it made you regret you hadn’t worn something more eye-catching.

“Come on, that guy is checking you out! Go over there.” Kay nudges you, jostling the forgotten tequila shot in your hand.

“He looks like trouble.” Matt says half-heartedly, but he’s too busy staring into Liza’s eyes to really care. Her hands are entwined at the back of his head pulling his forehead down to hers.

When it got to that point of the night, it usually meant that the two of them were about fifteen seconds from calling it an early night and going back to Matt’s apartment. Technically Kay would probably end up there as well because Sean was now Matt’s roommate and that meant you’d have the apartment to yourself…

“How can you tell? Are you looking at his reflection in Liza’s eyes?” Kay takes a shot from the collection of the remaining few in front of her.

“We all know that if Sean was here, you’d already be practicing your scuba breathing.” Liza gently brushes back the few strands of blond hair that hang forward into Matt’s face which only makes him sigh softly and look at her like she’s the last woman on earth.

You try not to be jealous.

Kay only rolls her eyes. “Alright, I’m taking initiative.”

“What does that mean?” You begin to ask, but Kay shoves you out of the booth and towards the handsome stranger who hasn’t taken his eyes off of you since your eyes met moments ago.

“Kay. What the hell?” You turn back to look at her, but she’s already holding up your forgotten shot.

“Take this and go over there.”

“But-”

“The only butt you should be thinking about is his, in those deliciously tight jeans. You will thank me in the morning.” She refuses to budge. “And then come home and tell me everything the two of you did, because Sean’s about to go visit his family for a week and I will need something to fantasize about.”

You wrinkle your nose in disgust, but then look to Liza hoping for help. Unfortunately she’s too busy counting Matt’s eyelashes to defend you. You look back at Kay who is still holding up the shot, gaze unwavering.

I can’t believe I’m about to do this.

You think to yourself with a sigh, before taking the shot, hoping that it will give you some of the confidence you need to talk to the most attractive man you’d ever seen in your life.

I can do this, I can do this-

The internal monologue repeats itself over and over again with each step as you weave your way through the crowd to make it where the man is sitting, dropping your gaze to the people around you as if you’re more focused on them.

You weren’t, but staring at him while you were walking towards him seemed too predatory, and you could already feel how warm your cheeks were from your flush.

You grip the firm edge of the bar when you make it to him, using it to ground yourself there in the moment before you find the strength to meet his gaze.

There’s a faded green jacket hung over the high backed barstool behind him that you hadn’t noticed before.

Your eyes trace over his body, just a quick glance, but snags on his arms for just a second too long to be casual. They were even more glorious in person, tan and flecked with cinnamon colored freckles hidden beneath twisting tattoos that disappeared into his dark shirt sleeves.

“Hi.” You smile shyly at the man when you meet his gaze.

“Hi.” He rumbles with an easy smile while the green of his eyes flashes in the neon sign hanging behind the bar.

His voice catches you off guard. You weren't expecting it to be so smooth, silk over your skin, but also like the rough drag of the ocean against sand as it pulls it out to sea.

“Hi.” You say again as all other thoughts evaporate from you mind and you fight the urge to facepalm.

What the hell am I doing over here? I might as well do the walk of shame back to my own table.

Russell raises an eyebrow, his smile widening. “Hi.” He echoes.

You open your mouth-

“Before you say hi back sweetheart, why don’t you tell me what you’re drinking instead?” He winks making your cheeks warm with their flush.

Honestly, you were expecting him to be turned off by your somewhat awkward introduction, but if you bothered him, he doesn’t show it. He leans towards you curiously, eyes drinking you in.

You clear your throat while your mind scrambles to come up with something appropriate or sexy to say other than ‘wow you’re pretty.’ You settle on. “Whatever you’re drinking.”

Smooth real smooth.

You glance back in the direction of where your friends are sitting as the man’s gaze turns to the bartender so he can order you a drink. Kay makes an obscene gesture with her hand that makes Matt kick her under the table, and Liza gives you an encouraging thumbs up.

Kill me now.

You turn back to the man lounging against the bar, unaware that he’s watching you again.

“You seemed like you were having some fun over there. What were you talking about?” He nods his head in the direction of your friends, the motion causing more of his dark hair to fall into his eyes and you fight the urge to push it back from his face and find out if it was as soft as it looked.

“Oh um.” Your mouth goes dry. The last thing you wanted to say to the gorgeous man was that your friends and you were discussing what animated movie characters turned you on. So you blurt out. “The First Law of Thermodynamics.”

It had clawed its way from the dark recesses of your mind where the rest of the test answers had been hiding from you when you tried to summon them earlier.

“What?” The man laughs while you feel your face begin to blaze.

“The First Law of Thermodynamics?” You clear your throat. “The theory that energy cannot be created or destroyed."

Where was that when I needed it for the test?

“Huh.” He smirks and takes a long sip from the beer in his hand. “Didn’t think Tarzan had anything to do with that.”

Oh sweet baby potatoes he heard the daddy conversation. Why couldn’t he have heard the Jessica Rabbit conversation instead?

“Ah.” You laugh awkwardly, realizing exactly what he overheard.

The bartender puts down a bottle of beer in front of you and whirls away to another patron sitting on the opposite side of the bar. The band begins to play a new song, this one louder with more drums than the last one, causing the man to lean closer to you so you can hear him.

“So.” The smell of the man’s cologne wafts over you. He smells like pine, mint, whiskey, and there’s an odd smell you can’t place, something that smells almost a little bit like smoke.

You ascribe it to cigarettes, but you don’t realize how wrong you are.

There’s something about him, more than just how attractive he is or how good he smells that draws you in. Maybe you’d just been burned by far too many boys and were blinded by the man sitting in front of you, but he had a roughness and self-sufficient air that you found refreshing.

He was assertive, sexy, with smoldering green eyes that somehow seemed soft and hard at the same time and filled you with an unholy amount of desire.

“So?” You parrot, bringing the beer up to your lips, hoping that a sip will take the edge off.

“Don’t you want to hear mine?” His voice is low and sultry, breath warming the air between the two of your faces.

You sputter out a cough, choking on the sip you took in surprise, and his eyes widen in concern.The man brings his hand down against your back with a hearty smack to clear out your lungs.

“Are you okay?”

“Never better.” You choke out, voice a little wheezy. “Wrong pipe.”

This is quickly becoming the most embarrassing moment of my life.

“Are you sure?” The stranger’s eyes trace over you as if he fears you’ll start asphyxiating at any moment.

“Mhmm.” You clear your throat again. “What were you saying?”

“I asked if you wanted to hear mine.”

You suddenly forget how to breathe, the only thing grounding you to this moment is the hand you placed on the cherry wood of the bar. “Sure.”

“Rain.”

Despite the last few seconds of you feeling so awkward it made you want to sink into the floor like quicksand and the fact that your throat is still burning from when the beer went down the wrong pipe, your mouth quirks up in a smile. “The horse from Spirit?”

“Mhmm.” He smiles a little wider. “My little sister used to watch that movie non-stop, and there was always something about that horse.”

“Huh.” You muse taking another sip of the beer, this time successfully not choking on it. “I didn’t peg you for a horse guy. You seem more like a Nala person.”

“Oh that lion did it for me too.” The man leans closer to you and you can feel your knees getting weak. “She definitely had bedroom eyes.”

“She did!” You laugh at him. “The animators knew what they were doing.”

It was getting easier to talk to him now and you could feel your nerves slowly going out to sea. There’s a comfortable silence that fills the air between the two of you.

“Why did you say the First Law of Thermodynamics earlier?” He asks before taking a sip from his beer. The condensation trickles down the side of the glass to pool against the wood of the bar.

“Because I didn’t want to admit what we were talking about.” You answer honestly. “And I guess it’s still a little fresh in my mind-”

“Why?”

“I had a physics test today. Completely bombed it. That’s why my friends brought me out tonight, they were trying to make me forget it.” You wave a hand dismissively, but it was the first time you’d thought about the test in the past hour and it still stung a little bit.

You were hoping that by this point of the night it wouldn’t have mattered anymore, but it did. Not to mention you didn’t exactly want to be talking about your most recent failure with a man who looked anything like he did.

But something about him made you feel comfortable talking to him about things that were not on the pre-approved list of subjects you created when you spoke to people you were attracted to. He didn’t seem to just be some hot stranger in a bar, he seemed like he actually cared, and that he was invested in what you were going to say.

It made him even more attractive. You weren't used to boys wanting to actually listen to anything you had to say.

“I’m sorry.” His face pulls down into a sympathetic frown.

“Me too.” You sigh.

“Maybe you didn’t do as bad as you think you did.”

“Oh I did. When I turned in the test, the professor made a face.” Your thumb rubs against the glass of the cold bottle clutched in your hand. “I studied all week for it and it kinda feels like I wasted all that time.”

The man studies you for a moment. “I think that if you learn something from it, then it’s not a waste. There are no accidents.“

“Are you purposely quoting Master Oogway to make me feel better or is that just a coincidence?”

“He’s a smart turtle.” He laughs pleased with himself that he made you smile. “But you remembered the First Law of Thermodynamics. And I thought it was a nice pick up line. Might use that sometime.”

“Shut up.” You laugh and raise your hand to hit him on the shoulder, but he catches it with his.

The contact of the rough palm of his hand in yours makes electricity zing through your body, bringing a wave of heat coursing behind it.

“That’s not very nice. Keep trying to hit me like that and I might have to take you to court, Sweetheart.” He winks.

“Oh please-”

“How else am I going to run into you again?”

“Well-” You swallow trying to find the next words, but they’re stuck in the back of your throat.

I am so out of practice.

“Well?” He raises an eyebrow in a silent challenge, the end of his perfect mouth teased upwards in a smile.

“This doesn’t have to be goodbye.”

“What did you have in mind?” The heat of his gaze sends goosebumps dancing over your skin and you swear you can feel your heartbeat in the base of your throat.

People do this all the time. I can say it. I can-

“Maybe-” You scoot closer to him, summoning some courage from the tequila. “Something like this.”

Your free hand curls into the front of his shirt to pull the stranger closer for a kiss.

Unfortunately, you pull him just a little too hard, with a little too much enthusiasm, and he falls off the stool with a startled cry in surprise and knocks his head into yours.

“Ow.” You groan rubbing at the red mark forming on your forehead. “I am so sorry.”

By now your cheeks are so warm that you could fry an egg on them and you were sure you looked like a giant raspberry. You had never been so clumsy or so embarrassed in your entire life.

“It’s okay, you just surprised me a bit.” The man says, but he’s peering at the mark on your forehead. “Are you okay?”

How many times is he going to ask me that tonight?

“Yeah the only thing that’s hurt is my pride.” You let out an awkward laugh. “I’m just gonna-“ You gesture with your thumb over your shoulder to signify that you’re going to leave.

The anecdotes that your friends were going to tell from tonight had already begun to manifest in your head:

“Hey, remember that time you tried to flirt with a gorgeous man at the bar and you headbutted him?”

“Hey, remember that handsome stranger? The one you told all about your failed physics test instead of sleeping with him?”

“Wait.” He gently puts his hand on your waist, sending your heart into a gallop. “Can we try that again?”

“Huh?” You blink in surprise.

So far all you’d done was head butt him and tell him your sob story about failing your physics test.

Worst seduction technique ever.

“Don’t move.” He smiles. “Don’t want to have to take you to the hospital for a CT if you bump my head again.”

It would have made you laugh if he wasn’t already kissing you.

It might just be the alcohol talking, or the fact that the last thing you kissed was the strawberry pillows on the couch in the living room last week when Liza, Kay, and you were watching your favorite paranormal tv show and you were imagining the male lead, but this kiss is nothing like any of the others you’d had in the past.

His mouth devours yours, beard scratching against your cheeks in a way that makes your entire body buzz. The man’s hands tighten your waist to draw you closer, closing the space between your bodies, and all you can feel is the wonderful drag of his fingertips against the end of your sweatshirt, the burn of his beard, the press of his chest onto yours, and the tangle of his tongue as you sink further into him.

A moan vibrates up through his chest and into your mouth that you echo with a soft sigh, your hands slipping over the taunt muscles before finding purchase against his back, your fingertips curling into the soft fabric of his t-shirt.

The rest of the bar is rendered to a dull throb of life at the back of your mind, the man in front of you absorbing the rest of your attention as he should. He is nothing like anyone you’d ever met and you wanted to know more. You wanted to see the end of the odd shaped scar just at the base of his throat, trail your fingers over the dark tattoos that decorated his skin while searching for more in places you couldn’t yet see, and sink into the deep green sea of his eyes.

“Better?” He breathes.

“Much, but if you’re not into that, I also know the Second Law of Thermodynamics. Just to give you something to remember me by.” You mumble against his lips, still slightly embarrassed. Your hands were still curled behind his strong shoulders, fingertips digging into the firm muscles.

“Beside the bruises?” He smirks before he kisses you again, the languid roll of his tongue against yours makes you forget your own name. “I’d very much like to hear it.” The rumble of his words vibrates through where your bodies are pressed against one another. “But first let me get the car and then I’ll let you tell me all about it.”

He brushes his lips to yours one more time, before he puts cash on the bar, and leaves you breathless as he saunters away towards the front door.

Holy fucking shit. How did that work?

“Girl Yes!” You hear Kay, before you feel her hands come down on your shoulders to shake you excitedly. “I was a little worried in the middle there for you with that head butt, but yes! That’s how you do it!” Her excited squeal brings you back down to earth from the cloud you were floating on with Russell.

“Where’d he go?” Liza asks. Matt was holding her from behind, his chin on her shoulder as he slowly rocked her to the music.

“To get the car.” Your cheeks flush at the insinuation.

“Fuck I am so jealous. The only thing I’m going to get to do tonight is Sean’s back.” Kay gives an exaggerated sigh. “It’s acting up and that means I’m going to have to give him a massage for an hour and not the good kind. It always knocks him out.”

“Aww babe.” Liza says.

“It’s okay.” Kay shrugs, but then sends her a saucy wink. “I can do some laundry. His washing machine has this spin cycle that makes me see stars.”

“I didn’t need to know that you’ve been molesting our washing machine.” Matt closes his eyes as if trying to scrub the image from his mind.

“It’s money well spent, Mattie.” Kay batts her eyes at him.

He huffs, but then turns his gaze on you, his blue eyes are filled with concern. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”

“Yeah.” You shrug, nerves popping and sizzling inside so much that they might as well be giving off enough electricity to power New York City. “I don’t get a creepy vibe from him. I think he’s actually kind of nice.”

It was true. Your radar was usually on point with things like this, and there was something about Russell that didn’t scream axe murderer. He seemed surprisingly laid back and honest, and you found yourself curious to know more about him.

Matt doesn’t look convinced.

“It’s okay babe.” Liza says, swaying her and his body to the music. “We have the app on our phones and we all know the safe word.” She continues, referencing the word the three of you designated when everything was okay as well as the other word that meant everything was going terribly wrong.

You didn’t think that you would need it.

He sighs. “Fine, but if he tries anything weird-”

“What qualifies as weird for you?” Kay asks, raising an eyebrow. “I’ve always been curious about your kinks.”

Kay always took pride in getting under Matt’s skin. You never knew why that was, only that it seemed to be her mission to make him crack. He never did.

“Be safe.” He nods at you before he drags Liza towards the door.

“Seriously babe.” Kay begins to back away. “Be safe. Because the last thing you want to pass right now is a pregnancy test.”

“Why are we friends again?” You groan as you follow behind her, weaving through the mass of bodies writhing to the newest song.

The air outside the bar is cooler, but there’s just a hint of something on the wind. Spring was coming, but it was still far enough away to leave just a light chill in the air. The street in front of Duke’s was populated sporadically with cars of varying shapes and colors, but you couldn’t help but wonder what kind of car the mysterious stranger drove.

Why didn’t I ask him for his name?

“Because you’d be lost without me.” Kay laughs at you, but then pulls you into a hug. “Have fun and please try not to think about that stupid test. You’re so smart and I promise that one test is not going to define your entire future. If that were true my first organic chemistry test would have come with a refrigerator box to live in, because that test was literally the stuff of nightmares.”

She frowns at the memory. It was the first test that she had ever failed in her entire life, and although you were the one who usually obsessed over grades, it was the first time you’d ever seen Kay so disappointed. That was also because her professor had asked her to stop by for office hours and told her that there was no way she’d ever be able to get the grades she needed in his class.

But a weekend marathon of Sex and the City listening to her mentor Samantha Jones, had brought her back to life and she’d sauntered confidently into the classroom armed with a flat white latte and sat in the front row at every lecture the rest of the semester.

She’d gotten the highest grade in the class.

Basically, Kay was your hero, that was the real reason why you were her friend.

“I’ll try my best. Tell Sean hi for me.” You squeeze her just as tight, before she walks away down the darkened path back to campus where Sean would be waiting for her.

There was an odd glow over the sidewalks tonight, a yellowed light that crawled along the cracked brick building that housed Duke’s and halted just shy of the opening of the alley that ran between Duke’s and the bank next door. No other people were visible. Even the small crowd that usually leaned against the rustic brick wall outside of the bar smoking was nowhere to be seen.

It was odd.

You rub your hands down your arms with nervous anticipation. You’d slept with someone from a bar one time before, but one night stands were not your forte at all. The last time it’d happened, you’d gone back with a guy to his apartment only to find out an hour later when his girlfriend got home that he wasn’t single. She hadn’t seemed surprised that you were in bed with him, but you had been when she pulled out a switchblade the size of your hand and began to slash through the neatly arranged collection of plush squish-mallows on the floor while screaming obscenities at the guy.

In hindsight, maybe the squish-mallows were a clue that he was in a relationship.

But you didn’t have any bad feelings about the man you’d met. He was attractive, witty, nice, funny, and he genuinely seemed concerned about you when you almost choked to death on a sip of beer.

I will make him forget the entire awkward encounter.

You promised yourself, but you also began to be a little bit nervous. You didn’t know why it was taking him so long to find the car.

A bird caws overhead, sweeping low across the buildings, feathers an inky black in the night air, its shadow flickering across the moon.

Another two minutes pass and you start to get antsy.

Maybe he just left?

The thought brings a wave of disappointment over you. The stranger was the first person in a long time that you’d felt genuinely attracted to and now you couldn’t help but think that maybe he lied and when he said he was going to get the car, he really was trying to get away from you as fast as possible.

You take a few steps in the direction that Kay left thinking that you might as well cut your losses and see if you can catch up, but hesitate.

What if I leave and he comes back? What if-

An odd noise that sounds like a cat hacking up a hairball comes from the alley directly to your right, followed by the sound of something heavy hitting the pavement.

You turn. Most of the alley is obscured in shadows, several large dumpsters jut out from grimy brick walls stained with God knows what, but you don’t see anything out of the ordinary.

There are some lights fastened to the wall that runs the length of the bar, sending a dingy orange light over the bags of trash, empty flattened cardboard boxes, and plastic cups strewn over the wet ground.

The door of Duke’s swings open for a moment, bringing the sounds and smells of the bar through the doorway as a woman enters tugging a sullen looking man behind her.

You turn your attention back to the empty alleyway, and catch the low rumble of a voice that sounds oddly familiar. It echoes through the darkness bouncing off the stone, metal, and bags of trash to where you stand at the dimly lit mouth of the alley.

That’s weird.

Another sound follows the voice, a wet sounding thud that piques your interest. You take a tentative step forward into the darkness.

Wait. Isn’t this how every horror movie starts?

It was a valid question. But then you hear the voice again, it’s louder, vibrating against the brick and mortar, and it pulls your forward.

Anxiety hums through your body as you inch down the alley, sticking to the well lit side that runs the length of Duke’s.

“Who sent you?” The familiar voice asks.

There’s no answer, and the sound of the cat choking up a hairball comes back.

Someone needs to get Grizabella a glass of water.

You take another shaky step passing by the first dumpster before you reach the part of the alley that wraps around the back of the bar.

At first you’re not sure what you see. The part of the alley behind the bar is more of a cramped street with a tire marked dirt path, bathed in awkward light from the moon and from a lazy streetlight that’s only half lit. There’s another dumpster back here, this one a little larger than the others you’d seen along the side of the building, but that isn’t what’s interesting.

The image comes into focus.

The stranger from the bar is standing there, his back to you, but he isn’t alone. The stranger has a man pinned to the dumpster, a large knife stabbed into the space between the man’s collarbone and his right shoulder while his other hand is clasped tightly around the man’s neck.

“Who sent you?!” The stranger roars, the knife digging into the man’s shoulder.

Your entire body freezes in fear.

My radar was so wrong. How could it be this wrong? He was so caring and kind- That’s what they said about Ted Bundy.

Your gaze drops to what you thought was a garbage bag at the green-eyed stranger's feet, but realize that it’s not a bag, it’s a body.

Holy shit he’s a murderer! Maybe if I just back away slowly-

You take a slow step backwards hoping to edge back into the alley that runs the length of the bar and forget this night ever happened, but instead of your foot finding solid ground, it finds a forgotten potato chip bag.

The crinkled plastic crunches underfoot, breaking the still silence of the night. You inhale sharply and look up. Your gaze locks with the green-eyed man.

“I didn’t see anything.” You hold up your hands, backing away slowly. “Have a nice night.”

“Wait-”

“Nope.” You turn and flee down the alley hoping that someone is coming out of the bar at the exact moment who can witness the broad stranger chasing after you. His boots thud against the concrete, splashing through water in hot pursuit, contrasting against the plods of your own feet sloshing through puddles and through trash to get back to the light.

Before you make it halfway through the darkness, he grabs your arm and turns you to look at him.

“Let me go!” You shriek, tugging at his grip, preparing to kick him between his legs, the only place that matters.

“Please wait. I can explain!”

“You don’t have to explain!” You keep pulling at his arm. “I didn’t see anything! I don’t know who you are. And you know what? I wasn’t even in the bar tonight! I was back in my apartment watching Crime Scene Kitchen!”

It was the first thing that popped into your head, but if it meant that you got to live, it would be your alibi.

He hesitates confused. “What’s Crime Scene Kitchen?”

“What? You just fucking murdered someone in an alley, you’re about to murder me, and that’s what you’re asking me?” You scream.

“I’m not going to murder you. And I was the one who was attacked!”

“Oh sure!” Fear clamps down hard on your throat squeezing the air coming in through your lungs. Tears begin to burn against your eyes as you try to release his grip. “Somebody help me!” You scream loudly trying to twist away from him and wishing that you’d brought your bottle of pepper spray or that you’d taken the self-defense class last summer with Kay or at least paid more attention to that scene in Miss Congeniality.

How could I have been so stupid? He’s going to kill me here and I’ll never know what that physics test did to my GPA.

You frown slightly at that thought. It really is weird what goes through your head when you think you’re going to die.

“Please, let me explain.” He says again, eyes wide and filled with an emotion that looks surprisingly like regret.

His dark hair has fallen forward over his cheeks that are flecked with blood, but the lights that line the wall of the dark alley perfectly frame his face. He looked like a model for a beer commercial or one that they’d roughed up a little for those weird perfume commercials you saw that never made any sense, but were always intriguing.

Why are all the hot ones crazy? Why couldn’t he have just been a bad kisser? Or maybe a little too loud? Why is his flaw that he freaking MURDERS people?

As you think that, there is a little voice inside your head that asks: Could I be okay with that?

NO! OF COURSE NOT!

“There’s nothing to explain! You’re a murderer! You just killed those people!” You aim a kick at his crotch, but the man only catches your ankle with his large hand. You could feel the warmth of his skin through your sweatpants, the sensation that brought warm tingles through your body when you were in the bar, only sends a wave of fear crashing over you.

“Yes I did, but for a good reason!”

“Really? What reason was that!?”

“They were trying to kill me!”

“I don’t believe you!”

“I-”

Before he can finish his sentence, gunfire explodes over your head. Sparks fly as bullets crash into the dumpsters and rip through the night air around where you and the man are standing.

There’s a large black suburban parked in the street that runs behind Duke’s where you’re found the stranger with the body. Three men stand in front of it all in dark clothing and each one is holding a pistol pointed directly at where you’re standing.

“Holy shit!” You scream, but the stranger tackles you back behind the large rusting green dumpster that juts out and gives you cover from the blaze of bullets.

His body lays over yours, curving protectively around you, and his arm is behind you head so when you hit the ground, your head doesn’t. The impact of the cold, wet, concrete beneath your body jostles through your system, but you can’t focus on it too much, not when the man’s entire body is laying on top of yours and it feels as if he was made especially for you.

He lays in the cradle of your thighs, wonderfully broad and hard, the muscles of his body contrasting to the soft curves of your body underneath your clothes. It left very little to the imagination, well… not little.

It’s enough to make a girl forget that he’s a murderer… No, what am I saying!!

You shove him off of you and cower back behind the dumpster, the sound of gunfire filling your ears and making you realize exactly what you smelled on the man earlier that you thought was smoke.

“Baby-” He says reaching out to comfort you.

“Don’t touch me! I’m not your baby!” You swat his hands away from you pressing yourself back into the wet wall of the alley.

The smell of mold and trash was rising all around you in an unholy mist. The wet ground soaked into the soft fabric of your pants and left stains that you didn’t want to think about what they were.

“Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit-” It comes out like a sickening mantra as you rock back and forth, hands on your ears to make the sound of the gunfire stop.

I’m going to die here. In this dismal back alley. In front of this gorgeous murder. If I had know that I wouldn’t have spent so much of this week studying for a mother-fucking physics test!

“Sweetheart!” The man shouts to catch your attention, but you don’t look at him.

“What in the devil’s ass is happening?!” You shriek.

“Listen to me!” He shouts louder over the sound of gunfire and takes your cheeks in his rough palms to make him look at him. His green eyes are brilliant in the light, but filled with a determined fire that makes you suddenly feel very safe despite watching him kill someone and the active gunfire bouncing all around you.

You wanted to trust him, but you also didn’t want to be on the news or used as a cautionary tale for mothers to guilt their daughters with.

“I promise that nothing is going to happen to you.”

“How can you guarantee that?!”

“Because I don’t break my promises.” The determined grit in his eyes hardens as they sweep over your face. “I will explain what’s going on. But first I have to go talk to them.” He releases your face, but hesitates.

The man wasn’t bothering to duck and cover, in fact each time a bullet ricocheted off the side of the dumpster he didn’t even flinch, meanwhile the sour taste of bile was rising into your mouth and you were sure that you were going to throw up. Panic was setting in, and your heart rate was getting dangerously high as anxiety and fear flickered along your nerve endings.

Oh my sweet goodness he’s mentally unstable.

“Actually.” He sighs and flashes an awkward smile. “I don't want to lie to you. I’m going to go kill them. Don’t move.” He reaches into the waistband at the back of his worn jeans and pulls out a gun.

Has he had that this whole time? HOW did I not feel it?

“Wait what? Don’t go out there!” Your fingers fist in the front of his jacket, the fear of him leaving you more than the fear of him murdering you. At this point it was either be killed by the beautiful stranger or killed by the other guys, and being killed by the other guys meant that you’d have to meet someone new and look where that had gotten you tonight.

“They’re not exactly going to leave on their own.” He cracks a smile despite the situation. “But promise me you’re not going to move.” His smile turns into a concerned frown, eyebrows furrowing together as his eyes settle on you once more, steely and unyielding.

“I promise.” Your voice comes out shaky and not at all what you sound like. Truthfully you were surprised that you got anything to come out of your mouth that wasn't vomit.

He nods once.

When he leaves, you wait exactly three seconds, counting each of them out in your head before you take off in a dead run for the front door of Duke’s bar and into the safety of the street beyond without looking back while hoping that all of this has just been a bad dream.

Coming back to the apartment feels surreal, crossing through the living room like a Salvador Dali painting, and finally closing your bedroom door and locking it is like a mirage.

You weren’t sure how you made it back here, only that you did, and that was all that mattered.

Kay and Liza weren’t home, predictably, but you would have tried to call both of them if you hadn’t dropped your phone in the cluster fuck that was everything that happened an hour ago. Because on top of everything now you didn’t have any way to contact your friends and let them know that you’re alive and okay.

Your body was still buzzing with the anxiety of everything that happened, mind going a mile a minute the longer you allowed it to bathe in the memories of being shot at and watching the stranger kill those men.

The stranger that somehow was able to trick your radar.

I just need to breathe, relax, and-

You turn around towards your bed expecting to go to sleep and forget all of it, but the thought stutters to a halt as you realize you’re not alone. The green-eyed stranger is standing there in the center of your bedroom. He is holding a bundle of your clothes in one hand and your empty school backpack in the other.

“What the fuck?!” You scream and reach for the Strawberry Shortcake bat your dad bought you when you moved out, hefting it high on your shoulder preparing to swing. “What the hell are you doing here?”

He raises an eyebrow at your awkward stance. “Why are you holding a bright pink baseball bat?”

“All the better beat the shit out of rapists who break into my apartment in the middle of the night!”

“What happened to murderer?” The end of his lips lift up in a smile too perfect to be real. He almost seems to be enjoying this, like he thinks you’re being cute and not accusing him of something terrible.

“That too!”

He laughs at you, but then his smile slips into a frown.“Why did you break your promise?” You don't understand why he looks like a kicked puppy at the thought that you broke your promise.

Of course I didn’t keep it! I was running for my life to get out of the way of the millions of bullets pointed at my head!

“What?”

“You promised that you would stay there and you didn’t. You could have been killed.” Worry flashes in his gaze, and your eyes drop to the flecks of blood on the outside of his jacket that remind you of everything this man had done tonight.

“Oh, well excuse me for breaking a promise I made to a murderer!”

“I’m not a murderer.”

“If the boot fits!” You snap back. “You showing up in my bedroom certainly seems plenty murdery. That and you going through my underwear drawer for a little souvenir.” Your eyes narrow in suspicion.

“A souvenir?” The man laughs at you again, his shoulders shaking. He’s still wearing the same clothes he was in the alley, and again you’re momentarily stunned by how attractive he is.

“Why else would you be going through my drawers? And how do you know where I live!?”

“That’s not important right now.” The man shoves the bundle of your clothes into your backpack before moving back to the chest of drawers in the corner of your bedroom for another handful.

“What the fuck do you mean that’s not important right now? And what the hell are you doing?”

“I’m packing you a bag.”

“What? Why? So it’ll look like I ran away?!”

Oh holy fuck he’s still going to kill me!

You swing the bat as hard as you can, but the man raises the backpack to block your attack.

“Calm down Derek Jeter! I’m not going to murder you, please stop saying that.”

“Why?”

He frowns and shrugs his shoulders. “Because it’s hurting my feelings a little bit.”

“Hurting your-” You shake your head in disbelief. “Look, I have no idea who the fuck you are or why you broke into my apartment but-”

“Hi. I’m Russell.” The man now identified as ‘Russell’ holds out his hand to try and shake yours.

That’s obviously a fake name.

You stare at him blankly. “Are you insane?”

“No, I just told you, I’m Russell. And we have to go.” He retracts his hand and begins to shove clothes into your backpack again.

“I’m not going anywhere with you, crazy! I have class in the morning and an exam in two days!” You heft the baseball bat higher on your shoulder as a silent threat.

Judging by the way he blocked your attack so easily a few moments ago, you didn’t have high hopes. But you did think that if you screamed loud enough your elderly neighbor, aptly named Willy due to the many, many times he’d flashed Kay, Liza, and you “accidentally,” would come over at least to see if you had any extra magazines to take back to his hoarder apartment that was stacked floor to ceiling with yellowed newspapers long out of print.

Russell sighs, and looks from the bat to you, shoulders relaxing a millimeter, but there’s still something determined in his gaze. “I understand that you’re scared, but those guys, they saw you with me.”

“So?”

“So if I leave you here with no protection, they’re going to come here and take you.”

“You don’t know that!”

“Yes I do!” He replies, the edge of his voice is tinged with anger and frustration.

“How?”

“Look!” Russell holds up a battered phone. Displayed on the cracked screen is a message thread of texts to an unknown number. Russell clicks on one of the pictures that was sent an hour ago, about the time the two of you met.

As it grows larger on the screen you recognize the two people in it. It’s a picture of Russell and you kissing at the bar. Your eyes are closed, hands curved over his shoulders possessively, while you smile into his mouth.

The memory of the kiss sends a warm tingle down your spine as you remember how good the kiss was. It was definitely in the top ten, hell, it was number one.

Don’t be seduced by his charm and good looks! You saw him kill someone tonight! Not to mention he probably killed those other guys that were shooting at you.

Russell swipes his finger over the screen again, this time the picture is of him and you talking, your face on full display. You’re laughing at something Russell said with your right hand resting on the cool bottle of beer you never finished. Honestly, if anyone was seeing those photos for the first time it would look like Russell and you were together.

“You took pictures of me!?” You shout. “You’re a fucking freak!”

“Sweetheart, listen to me-”

“I’m not your Sweetheart. You’re just some random murder that I met at a bar!”

The things that I’ve said tonight for the first time could be an SNL skit. Why me?

“For the last time, I am not a murder! And I didn’t take those photos. The men who were after me did.”

“So? Why would they care about some random girl?”

“Because they don’t know you’re some random girl I met! They think that you’re important to me and until I figure out who they sent these pictures to, you’re not safe.”

“Can’t you text them and say that you just met me tonight? That it’s a pure coincidence?! That I’m not important to you.” You point at the cracked phone, waving your free hand frantically at it.

Russell laughs at your question. “Are you kidding? Do you think they’re going to believe me?”

“I don’t know! And how would they know where I live?”

“The same way I knew how.”

That is a good point. How did he know where I lived?

You hesitate, gaze flicking over where Russell stands with your backpack in his hand, but another idea begins to wiggle from the depths of your mind. “Wait. Is this some kind of kinky thing you do? Some fetish? Pretending to be a spy or that people are after you just to get yourself all hot and bothered?”

“What?” Now it’s Russell’s turn to look at you like you’re crazy.

You take that as confirmation. “It is! Holy fuck, that is so messed up.”

Wow forget murderer, he’s an actual psychopath. Why the hell did I drop my phone?

Kay and Liza weren’t going to be back tonight. Especially not if they think that you took “Russell,” if that really is his name, back to the apartment. You had no other way of contacting them, except with your laptop that was sitting closed on your bed behind where Russell was standing.

“Wait a minute. I’m not a spy.”

“Exactly, that’s the point! You’re pretending to make me-”

“No, I’m not. I promise all of this is real!” Russell sighs frustrated. “I know that you don’t want to believe me, but it isn’t safe here. And I can protect you!”

“That’s exactly what you would say to kidnap me!”

“Sweetheart. I am not going to kidnap you, I’m trying to keep you safe. I mean, if I have to kidnap you I will-”

Your eyes widen and you heft the bat high on your shoulder prepared to swing.

“Sorry, that was a bad joke.” He holds up his hands in surrender, flashing an apologetic smile. “What would it take to make you believe me?”

It was the question that you had been contemplating since he’d protected you in the alley. You knew nothing about him, didn’t know what he did for a living, and you’d only just learned his name. But despite everything that happened there was a little part of yourself that wanted to believe him. You wanted to believe everything he was telling you, well, not the part about you being in danger and the idea that people now wanted to kill you, but the part about being able to trust him.

You think about the way he made you feel at the bar, when he listened to you complain about your physics test and made you laugh. You’d trusted him then, enough to go home with him or at least, try to go home with him.

“I don’t know.” The bat slips a little bit from your shoulder with your honesty. “Do you have any character references?”

Russell cracks a smile. “Isn’t it a little early for you to ask me about my old girlfriends? Don’t think any of them would be willing to say anything good about me either.”

This time you can feel a little smile begin to tug at the end of your lips, one that Russell notices.

“I know that you’re scared.” He takes a tentative step forward. “But I promise that I will explain everything to you, answer all your questions, but all I know is that you’re not safe here. And I can’t in good conscience leave, if I know you’re in danger.”

The look in his eyes had the determined fire you’d seen many times tonight, but there was something honest about it. They saw through you, and even though you had spent most of the night terrified and believed him to be a murderer, you didn’t think that someone like that would be so determined for you to go with him.

It felt like two parts of your head were at war. You wanted to trust Russell, you didn’t think he was lying to you, but you had seen him kill those men. And there was an unfortunate part of you that worried he made all of this up to kidnap you.

But I think if he meant to do that… he would have jumped me the minute I walked into my bedroom, he wouldn’t have said “hi.”

“I know this whole thing sounds crazy. But the last thing I want is for you to die because of something stupid I did. Please.”

You bite the inside of your cheek thinking about Kay and Liza. “If I leave, what about my roommates? They live here too.”

He rubs the back of his neck. “I’m not going to sugar coat it Sweetheart, there’s always a chance that they’ll be hurt, but with you gone, there’s also a chance that these guys will focus more on finding me.”

“So basically you can’t guarantee their safety?”

“No.” He drops his gaze for a moment, but then he looks at you again. “But I can guarantee yours and I don’t want to take the chance with your life. And my brother is smart, maybe he can figure out a way to keep them safe too.”

You stand there for a moment contemplating what he’s saying, the memories of everything that happened tonight rising up in an unrelenting wave, not just cowering behind the dumpster, but the kiss the two of you shared, and the way he made you laugh.

I want to trust him. I don’t think he’s lying, I don’t think he’s going to hurt me. You think to yourself, and then the inevitable thought comes. I feel safe with him.

“Do you promise that your name is Russell and that you’re telling me the truth?” You ask one more time to make sure.

“Yes.”

So you take a chance and hope to God that you’re not wrong.

“Okay.” You nod, lowering the bat entirely. “I’ll go with you.”

He sighs in relief. “Good.” Russell holds out the backpack towards you. “You should probably pack this. If I had my way, there won’t be much in here besides underwear.”

“You’re such a guy.” You roll your eyes and take the backpack from him, but you can't help the smile that curls on the end of your mouth.

Russell returns it, pleased with himself that he'd gotten you to smile again. “That's better than you accusing me of being a murderer.”

“Jury’s still out on that one.”

“But you have to admit… this did make you forget your physics test right?”

He's not wrong... but you don’t think that this is better.

A/N: I had so much fun with this one. I hope y'all laughed as much as I did 😂

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