#I LOVE HIM SM HE'S SO CUTE
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iantheswife · 3 months ago
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Twst Wonderland fandom rn:
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0wldn0 · 4 months ago
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I love his silly lil wink in this episode so much...
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tangents-within-tangents · 3 months ago
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Echo canonically being sentimental (and a sweetheart)
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With his armor, there's also the "For Hevy" memorial, the fact he kept Rex's handprint, and that he put the Bad Batch skull on his armor before he even joined them
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Echo holding 99 as he died has always stuck out to me as one of the saddest/sweetest things in TCW (especially since the show rarely actually shows clones mourning/expressing much emotion)
I also noticed that Echo is often the one to mention his brothers by name, and make sure they're remembered. And of course his entire thing about saving his brothers and leaving no one behind. (Also that he turned the call signs into this like nickname/inside joke thing with Omega is so adorable to me ahh)
--
And then there's whatever this is:
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Not even a reaction to the name (and we know they are good at implying expression under those helmets)! I know this is old news but it bears saying lol. They had the perfect opportunity here to not only address Echo's loss, but also to honor Fives and the sacrifice he made to discover the chips. A sacrifice which saved Ahsoka, Rex, and now the Bad Batch. This is obviously not the first time Echo and Rex talked about Fives, he knows he's dead (I firmly believe he would not have left the 501st if Fives was still alive), but come on! This did the bare minimum to check the box of 'mention Fives.' How about you cut Wrecker getting attacked by a sarlacc or whatever and give that screen time to show us an actual conversation?
Like I found this bit in an interview:
While the conversation obviously never happened onscreen, Corbett says that doesn't mean it never happened, suggesting the two talked offscreen, saying "For Fives, I imagine that Rex and Echo had that conversation after he was rescued off of Skako Minor, and I know in Season 1 we did have Rex reference Fives on Bracca," adding "So, in my headcanon, they've had many conversations about Fives."
And I'm just like... Jennifer! You don't have to have headcanons, you are literally the writer! Show us!!
(Also he should have gotten his handprint again no I will never let this go)
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dizzybizz · 5 months ago
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i rlly like him actually
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lloydgramcracker · 6 months ago
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I love tje way arthur drew his boots
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courtesanofdeath · 7 months ago
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"Me saying I can't is one thing. But if somebody else tells me that, I don't like it."
for @peskyfirefly, have the happiest birthday ♡ 
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milkbreadtoast · 9 months ago
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idk how i want to draw him yet and not ready to make a srs attempt but here's a bad kdj phone doodle lol🚶🏻
#orv#kim dokja#omniscient reader's viewpoint#my art#oh yeah i didnt have ref for this fkdnfn was going off memory of the last (first) time i drew him#i cant do a serious attempt tho bc i havent read the novel so i dont have a clear image of him in my head yet...#(dont want to just copy the webtoon design hastily... if it matches my image thats fine but... idk yet)#my main opinion on the webtoon design is he's too hot/ikemen tho KFJDKDJ (this is what i thought since the beginning)#its like BONES mp100 anime reigen.... kdj is like manga reigen to me /j#but who knows maybe if i catch kdj brainrot i too will start drawing him like a kpop idol out of affection...🤷🏻‍♂️#like the webtoon artist prob draws kdj pretty bc they love him sm#just like how i draw jys pretty bc of my brainrot...#so who knows maybe that will happen to me too🤷🏻‍♂️ time will tell#my main opinion on webtoon yjh (no one asked): CUTE BUT WHERES THE T1TTY BEL- *voice muffled as i get dragged away*#(copied most of these tags from twit too lazy to retype the commentary)#EDIT: i call him reigen jokingly bc theyre abt the same age but#kdj is also mob core to me....#in that theyre both protags that dont look flashy and look more like extras/'mob charas'#yet r irrevocably unequivocably the protags of their respective stories#(just as everyone is the protag of your own life! sieze ur narrative! etcetc🖤)#also. both black haired bowlcut havers KJDJS#kdj is reigen coded (derogatory) and mob coded (POS)#hes also a 'con man like reigen..... yep hes def still reigen coded
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yuzuuu4 · 1 year ago
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aetherium wars livestream
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aesthetics-over-ethics · 2 years ago
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This is so cute actually
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phantoms-finger-tapes · 1 year ago
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Phantom running for hugs 🤗
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my-darling-boy · 7 months ago
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(TW injury description)
I am SO glad you asked I lose my mind over this man. Sidney Beldam! He’s most known for his miraculous recovery from a major facial injury sustained while he served as a young sergeant in the First World War. If you’ve read the Facemaker by Lindsay Fitzharris you might recognise him! Sources differ slightly about his story, so I’ve pieced it together as best I could. The photos below were from about February 1919!
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Born in 1897, Sidney was about 17 living with his mother in Cambridge, England when the Great War commenced. While he didn’t enlist initially, he was soon conscripted when it came about in 1916 though thankfully he was in a non-combatant role driving lorries transporting soldiers to boats headed for France. It’s where he learned he enjoyed driving! However in April 1917, Sidney was transferred to the Machine Gun Corps and eventually rose to the rank of sergeant where only 7 months later, his life would change forever.
During the battle of Passchendaele, one of the muddiest most gruelling segments of the war, Sidney was on the frontlines when a shell burst, sending a shrapnel fragment tearing diagonally through his nose and the right side of his face. The young soldier collapsed face first into the mud which ended up saving his life as falling backwards would have caused him to choke on his own blood. For three days Sidney laid in a mangled heap floating in and out of consciousness while vermin scurried about his body and the other dead and wounded around him. No one would ever know the details of those agonising three days, but the trauma he experienced there left him with a lifelong phobia of rats and cockroaches. After the initial wounded had been cleared out, a wandering band of stretcher bearers discovered Sidney alive after one man touched him with his boot fully expecting him to be dead. Miraculously, he was still clinging to life.
The 19 year old sergeant was rushed down the line and then transferred to two different military hospitals where his wounds were hastily stitched in an effort to save his life before infection could spread. Unfortunately, closing the gap where he was missing flesh in his cheek caused his upper lip to be pulled into a sneer and a sunken depression formed where most of his nose was missing around the bridge. Still, he was lucky to be alive, which he later used to remark. Well he was luckier still as he would be transferred to Sidcup military hospital in Kent where he would become a patient under Sir Harold Gillies, the man often considered the pioneer of modern plastic surgery. When he arrived at hospital in 1918, his wounds were healed but his face still bore the heavy trauma of his experience. If you want to see his photographs upon arrival, I won’t post them here but if you search his name, the photos are everywhere. IMO they’re not graphic but I know it can upset some people.
Gillies went to work trying to restore Sidney’s face. This required him to reopen the wound in his cheek where a skin flap was grafted to allow his upper lip to return to normal. He also folded down a skin flap from his forehead in order to create a new nose. Behind his facade, a series of tubes and canals had to be inserted for proper sinus drainage and other unnamed functions. While his initial handful of surgeries did most of the work to reconstruct his face, Sidney underwent over 40 surgeries between 1918 and the 1930s, some reconstructive and some to evacuate the tubes behind the flesh, meaning the common cold was a routinely painful affliction for him. Gillies understood operations were traumatic for the men at Sidcup, especially since most required more than one, and so made a point about creating a lighthearted ward environment, one Sidney says was quite jolly with the staff doing everything they could to make them feel comfortable and dignified as possible. And while I thought the topmost photos were the most updated case study photos for his recovery, I stumbled upon another set from 1920 in the Faces of War by Andrew Bamji I have not seen posted anywhere!
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And lads listen. In such a sweet little twist, while Sidney was still recovering from the bulk of his major surgeries, a local pianist by the name of Winifred volunteered to play for the resting servicemen, all of whom had some form of disfigurment or amputation. Carrying in her sheet music, she and Sidney laid eyes on each other for the first time and she later remarked how his smile instantly lit up the whole room! For them, it was love at first sight. The two were soon married, and although it was in the 1920s, I don’t have an exact year for this. This most likely came after Sidney was finally discharged from service in 1921. There is a photo of their wedding and y’all look how SWEET!!
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Between his initial surgeries and army discharge, Gillies asked if Sidney would be his personal chauffeur, an offer he took up quickly as he loved driving from his time with lorries during the war. One somewhat humorous account tells of Gillies—who was a bit scattered at times—asking Sidney to renew his driver’s license as the surgeon left it until the last day to take care of; Sidney in a rush waited in a long line at the county hall before jumping the queue and begging the administrator to expedite his employer’s license as it was needed to drive him to the hospital the next day. The man refused, even for a surgeon to get him to his patients. Sidney went to another staff member who was friends with Gillies and begged him the same. The man cheerily agreed but was still in need of a signature from the stubborn administrator who again refused... at least until he found out Harold Gillies nearly won a golfing championship, at which point he took Sidney to his personal office to expedite the license as he was happy to do business for a skilled golfer (apparently saving people’s lives doesn’t matter as much??). A no doubt perplexed Sidney was finally able to get back to the hospital on time!
After his army discharge and most likely about the time of his marriage, Sidney moved back to Cambridge where he worked for the council as a rent collector. He was so well liked, apparently even from the people he collected from, that he soon worked his way to Housing Manager for Cambridge. About this time, he had a daughter, Pam. Every account I read of him, people gush about how sweet he was. His wife recalls how Sidney was always adored by all his family and friends. His granddaughter Marilyn McInnes in an interview said, “He was the most warm and optimistic and loving man. I adored my grandfather, I was constantly on his lap as a small child. I never noticed anything funny about his face, I guess I thought all grandads looked like mine.”
Sadly, Sidney Beldam passed away from cancer at about 80 years old in 1978. But considering the man was given 6 months to live and ended up living for 60 years more surrounded by a large and loving family, I’d say he certainly had a full life. There is a picture of him and his wife in the 60s and they are absolutely charming!!
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But anyway that’s me done rambling I’ve a massive crush on him. His story makes me genuinely happy to tell and I’m so glad you asked!
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fenori · 4 months ago
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peri-weri! 💜
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awnrys · 7 months ago
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ᴊᴇᴀʟᴏᴜꜱ? ᴍᴇ? ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ! (ᴜɴᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇᴅ)༉‧₊˚.
bestfriend!megumi x f!reader
jealousy is a very heavy feeling. why was megumi feeling it? you guys weren't together anyways. why should he care who you hang out with? it's only a strange feeling, it will go away in no time! except when it doesn't.
jealous? me? never! playlist!
content: bestfriend!au, childhood friends, friends to lovers, jealousy, angst, fluff, miscommunication, smau in further chapters, implied smut, i've liked you since i met you trope, distancing, i'll always find my way back to you trope
new friend
heavy chest
15 years
why him?
please answer
don't let this happen
now that your gone
fly back
why now?
cope
your my addiction
ive missed you
our happy ending
please comment on this post or any of the chapters to be added to the taglist for updates˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
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shroomerr · 3 months ago
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I love this orange airpod
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asexual-shelly · 4 months ago
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hi *throws this at you and runs headfirst into a lamppost*
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#dandys world#dandy's world#dandys world shelly#dandy's world shelly#dandy's world sprout#dandys world sprout#my art#YIPEEEE#been wanting to give my shelly design a mild update since looking at it more ive been a bit dissatisfied with it#shes got tentacle tails now!!! they have a mind of their own and sorta just move around idly/used for expressing emotions#also for the face itself i gave her rounder eyes to emulate her weird soulless expression in-game bc i love that sm#i never elaborated on it in my og design but i like shelly being super active and outdoorsy since shes a paleontologist#so the bandages on her arms are mostly from cuts or injuries she's gotten while searching for fossils#unrelated detail but i think it'd be funny if she was like. comically strong aswell#anyways sprout!!! he is also here.#no but I love drawing sprout hes such a fun guy to draw. i love his fuckass hot yaoi base looking skull he so triangular#ofc i gave him freckles bc look at him. he deserves those.#struggled a bit with the colors and decided to just lean into the striped pink + green fit he had going and thought it worked out fine#naturally had to give him the charm i mean come onnn ppl!! he usually keeps it tucked in underneath his sleeve so its not damaged#also its sorta unclear in canon but i thought it'd be cute if sprout had the sweet charm and cosmo had the savory charm stead of vice versa#they just keep a little bit of eachother wherever they go <3#damn been a bit since ive rambled in my tags#watch out chat the yappers back at it again 😈
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GO FOR IT! ; YUUTA OKKOTSU
synopsis; yuuta’s been crushing on you ever since the first group project you had together, but he’s too nervous to confess. luckily, he has some over-eager friends willing to help! step 1: ask for your number!
word count; 7.4k
contents; yuuta okkotsu/reader, gn!reader, university au, yuuta majors in creative writing and writes poetry in his spare time <3, no curses au, yuuta is a cutiepie, he’s also a loserboy, pining and longing, unrequited love, maki inumaki and panda are wingmen (but not very good ones), fluffy vibes, gojo makes a guest appearance (stay safe), literally just yuuta being whipped for like 7k words straight
a/n; im gonna have to edit this a lot i think….. but for now it should be fine :3 i love the boy!!
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”you’re staring. again.”
yuuta flinches. a jolt overtakes him, running through his body, and the pen he’d been absently writing with slips from his fingers. it tumbles down to the ground with a soft thunk. 
gazing up at the shadow towering over him, his eyes are wide, a little flustered; like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. like he’s expecting a smack on the head from the person in front of him.
— it’s maki. 
and she looks displeased, lips pursed and a single eyebrow raised. unimpressed, as she stares him down — the same way he’d been looking at you just a second ago.
”they’re gonna think you’re a creep if they catch you, you know,” she sighs, shifting from one foot to another. carrying her bass in a case on her back.
”maki, c’mon,” comes from behind her, an even larger figure strolling up to the pair. grinning brightly, fluffy hair tousled by the afternoon breeze. ”cut him some slack!” 
”salmon,” a third voice joins in. inumaki’s got some green paint staining the sleeve of his hoodie, and his fingers are dirtied with charcoal.
his closest friends, all joining him on the table they usually frequent on campus. right next to a giant tree, casting a pleasantly cool shade and obscuring the irritating brightness of the sun.
maki, headstrong and resilient. infamously rude. a music major, primarily, though yuuta knows she has more than a couple minors. if you pay attention, you can see her almost everywhere on campus, and she always does well on exams. confident, enough so that just being around her makes yuuta feel a little more secure in himself.
panda, a big kid with a big heart, always wearing monochrome clothes. ‘panda’ can’t possibly be his real name, though yuuta’s never found the courage to ask. truthfully, he isn’t sure panda even has a major, or goes to this university at all — but nobody’s mentioned it yet, and he doubts they ever will.
and then inumaki, the quiet kid, always helpful and kind. a little teasing, too. selectively mute, speaking exclusively in rice ball ingredients, but yuuta has already begun adjusting to the thought behind his phrases. an art student with remarkable talent, from sculptures to comics to paintings. he mostly spends his lectures playing games on his phone, though. and he's the kindest guy yuuta knows.
his beloved friends. the reason he can smile through each day, even when it’s a little difficult.
and maki’s right, he knows she is. if you were to lock eyes with him, and realize he’d been glancing over at you for the past ten minutes… god, he doesn’t even want to think about it. you’d be weirded out for sure, wouldn’t you?
but yuuta just can’t help it. you’re far too radiant to ever look away from, smile much too pretty.
you’re just sitting there, laughing and talking with your friends, the same as any other day. comparing hand sizes with miwa, or leaning over to whisper in mai’s ear. snorting over something momo said, or trying to understand the code kokochi’s fiddling with on his laptop. just being yourself, with people you’re close to.
and yuuta desperately wishes he could be among them. wishes he could see your honeyed smile up close, hear the melodic lilt of your laughter, breathe in the lingering scent of your shampoo. he wishes he could speak to you without stuttering, without tripping over his feet — hang out with you outside of class. just something small, like studying together, or grabbing a bite to eat.
he wishes he could get to know you. 
yuuta thinks he must seem like a fool, to be so affected by your mere presence. everything comes to him so easily, when he looks at you; the pitter patter of his heart, his sweaty hands, the whirlwind of butterflies swirling in his chest. even just the way you twirl your hair or chew on your pencil is so mesmerizing. 
so all he can do is stare, hopeless, a moth to a flame. basking in the warmth of your gaze, directed at your friends.
hoping one day, maybe… that warmth will fall upon him, as well.
(maybe one day.)
”hellooo? earth to yuuta!”
”see? he’s hopeless.”
”mentaiko…”
”inumaki’s right. he’s a man in love!”
”he’s a boy with a stupid crush,” maki scoffs, picking at a piece of lint on her tank top. ”and we have a study session we need to get done. the exam’s next week, remember?”
exam.
yuuta shoots up, wasting no time in grabbing his backpack and slinging it over his shoulder. the ring hanging around his neck dangles with the sudden movement, and he clutches onto it.
”ah — right!” he squeaks, apologetic. ”sorry, it completely slipped my mind —”
before his mind can begin to overthink every action he’s taken these past few hours, a hand reaches out to pat his shoulder. pat, pat. reassuring and stabilizing.
inumaki smiles at him. yuuta can’t see his mouth, from behind the fabric of his hoodie, but his eyes crinkle softly; and it’s enough to put yuuta’s heart at ease.
”don’t apologize,” maki says. simple, straightforward. ”let’s just get going. i need to do better than naoya did last time.”
”you’re still mad about that, huh?”
”he only got a higher score because i wasn’t on top of my game,” she grumbles, digging her nails into the pockets of her baseball jacket. ”he doesn’t even like music. he’s just taking the course to piss me off. grown ass man.”
a chuckle slips from yuuta’s lips. the warm breeze ruffles his hair, and he holds onto the strap of his backpack, following closely behind as his friends begin to leave. sending one final glance at your figure, over by a table near the apricot trees.
and that’s when it happens.
— he looks over at you, and finds that your eyes are already on him. 
a moment passes.
while yuuta struggles to find his breathing, your lips curl up into a soft smile. then you raise your hand, waving to him cheerily, teeth peeking out from between your lips. he can see it clearly, even with the distance between you. 
a smile that glimmers like a jewel, in the light of the sun. 
yuuta feels his lips part, mouth falling open ever so slightly. but he waves back, afraid to take too long, unable to stop the pounding of his heartbeat — smiling giddily, like a schoolgirl tripping over her feet. 
his friends just watch, wholly unimpressed.
”do you think he’d notice if i threw a rock at him?”
”maki!”
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”what do you like about them, anyway?”
the question is unexpected. yuuta has to do a double take, eyes straying from his excerpt of sappho 31 up to the person seated across from him. tapping her pencil on the edge of the table, resting her sharp jaw on the heel of her palm. 
”huh?”
”them. your crush,” maki reiterates. ”what caught your attention? there’s got to be something, yeah?”
”oh?” panda chirps, leaning back in his chair. a teasing grin playing at his lips. “i thought you didn’t care about his silly little crush.”
”i don’t.” a huff pushes past her lips, hands reaching to fix her lazy ponytail, hair tie dangling from between her teeth. ”i’m just bored. i already know all this, anyway.”
”tuna mayo.”
”oh, are you curious too, inumaki?”
”well, out with it. why them?”
yuuta blinks. once, then twice — mind spinning in circles, as his friends await his answer.
and, truthfully, yuuta can’t pinpoint the exact moment he felt it. that burst of joy, that tinge of excitement — the puppy love that rika always spoke of. she was always good at verbalizing her emotions, in a way yuuta never could.
(he always knew he loved her, but he could never put it into words.)
and he knows that he likes you. he knows because every word you speak has him stumbling over what to say, because even a single smile sent his way makes the world feel so gentle. he knows because he’d probably throw himself into incoming traffic, if you just asked him to.
but he can’t put it into words. not spoken ones, anyhow — putting them on paper is one thing, the one thing he can do. writing out his love for you in similes and metaphors, sonettes and alexandrines. it’s how he copes with everything; writing and writing, til his fingers start to hurt. he can compare you to a dandelion, to the way cicadas buzz in the light of the sun. the scent of childhood. but it’s harder to speak it out loud, to turn the feelings into sounds — that’s maki’s specialty, not his.
why does yuuta like you?
he remembers it clear as day, but still can’t pinpoint the exact second he fell headfirst into love. it was more of a creeping realization, something soft and sweet trickling through his veins. that sinking feeling, how helplessly he fell for you.
it all started with a pencil.
in hindsight, it’s a little silly. but yuuta can’t bring himself to think back to that moment with anything other than fondness.
(your smile was just so bright.)
that day had been a disaster. he was nervous, painfully so, afraid of every single new thing he came across during his first week of uni. scatterbrained, running on almost no sleep, unsure of where to put his feet as he walked.
honestly — what kind of trainwreck forgets their pen and notebook during their very first workshop?
all that anxiety, all those hours spent overthinking, and he still couldn’t manage something so small. in the moment, he almost panicked; sitting with you, a total stranger, wholly unprepared for such a simple assignment. read a couple excerpts, analyze them on paper. all yuuta could do was stare blankly at his lap, frozen, throat dry. hands cold with sweat.
but then you smiled.
”did you forget your notebook?” you had asked, voice set to a soothing tilt. calm, not angry or impatient.
”ah — yeah, i, um…” yuuta could only swallow thickly, fidgeting with the strings of his hoodie. ”i’m sorry. i haven't been sleeping well, so —”
”hey, hey, it’s fine!” you chuckled, teeth peeking out from between your lips. ”i totally get it. i almost forgot my laptop at yesterday’s lecture. we can just share!”
then you pushed your notebook closer to him, inviting him in. moving your chair a little, angling it towards him. but all yuuta could think of was how pretty your smile looked, how kind your presence felt.
”here you go,” you grinned, snapping him out of his trance. ”you can use this.”
a pencil. yuuta took it from your opened palm, gazing at it in wonder. an orange-coloured, halloween-themed pumpkin design. completely out of season. the tiny pumpkin was cute, though.
such a casual kindness. but maybe that's exactly why it made his heart flutter so deeply; as if you did it without even really thinking. as if kindness comes easy, to you.
that’s probably how it began. by the time the workshop ended, yuuta knew that he liked you, and he knew that he wanted nothing more than to be your friend.
(subconsciously, his fingers tap at the zipper of his backpack. the pumpkin pen is still with him, after you waved him off with a smooth you can keep it, if you want. yuuta has found that he always writes best when he uses it.)
”well?”
maki’s voice snaps him out of his trip down memory lane, and he stumbles for something to say. what does he like about you?
squirming, yuuta feels his face heat up, as he thinks of you. all he can see is your smile, the kindness in the tilt of your voice. the brightness of the grin you sent his way. warm and saccharine, like the sun peeking out after a downpour — when the streets smell like honeydew and rain.
”they’re just… so cool,” he finally sighs, a dreamy look smoothing over his face. ”they’re so nice. and their smile is so beautiful. they’re so smart, too — god, you should see the way they write — everything about them is just…”
yuuta blushes a deep red, smiling even still. lovesick. ”.. so, so wonderful.”
maki freezes in the midst of the tapping of her pencil. panda stops kicking at the foot of the table. and inumaki looks away from his phone, messing up his full combo.
a moment of silence passes. the study hall grows quiet, and yuuta looks down at his lap; suddenly embarrassed. sipping from his little carton of apple juice.
”hey…” panda starts, delicate. somehow, yuuta dreads the teasing edge to his voice. ”have you thought about confessing to them, yuuta?”
”what?” the boy in question squeaks, choking on his juice. ”no, of course not!”
”why?” maki deadpans. popping a chip into her mouth. ”you’re head over heels, right? might as well do something about it.”
inumaki hums. affirmative.
”i… don’t know,” yuuta sighs. a heavy breath, a little wobbly. meek. ”they’d just reject me, wouldn’t they? i mean…”
(you’re totally out of his league. right?)
maki scoffs, sitting up a little straighter. there’s an angered kind of affection in her eyes. ”you’re just deciding that all on your own. how would you know how they feel?”
the gaze she sends his way is intense. it always has been. there’s a kindness to it, though, something that makes yuuta want to look her in the eye — but he can’t, eyes still locked on his hands, resting in his lap. ”… still,” he manages a weak smile, somewhat sheepish. ”even if i wanted to, there’s no way i could. i’m too much of a coward.”
maki slams her textbook shut. the sound is sudden, loud. yuuta flinches, and a wince leaves inumaki’s lips. panda just watches her, snacking on some chips, a mild curiousity simmering in his eyes.
the girl in question gets up from her seat, grabbing her bass case and throwing it over her shoulder. then she looks at yuuta, eyes full of decision.
”— well, lucky for you, we’ve got some time to spare.”
a blink. yuuta gazes up at the girl in front of him, tilting his head in confusion.
maki sighs. exasperated. ”i’m saying we’ll help you. don’t look so resigned, dumbass.”
at that, panda gets up too — suddenly excited. ”are you thinking what i’m thinking?”
she just huffs, smiling even still. ”probably not. but let’s hear it.”
the grin on his face widens. he scribbles something down in his notebook, showing off the writing proudly. ”operation: get yuuta to confess is about to commence!”
inumaki turns off his phone. sitting up straight, arms decisively crossed, a strangely serious expression on his face. completely invested.
”wait — wait!” yuuta stutters, eyes wide with flustered shock. ”don’t i get a say in this?”
”of course not.”
”nope!”
”bonito flakes.”
”b… but —”
”alright, so here’s what i’m thinking,” panda begins, writing down unintelligible notes on the pages of his tattered notebook. ”we need to start small. we don’t want yuuta getting heart palpitations and fainting in the middle of campus, so —”
”tuna mayo?”
”yeah, that’s perfect! hang on, lemme just…”
”let me see. i don’t want you messing this up.”
yuuta’s voice comes out tiny, as it falls from his lips. more of a squeaky breath. ”guys, i really — you don’t need to —”
panda continues to scribble in the notebook, engrossed, arm hanging off maki’s shoulder as they go over the contents. inumaki nods along, walking over to them with lazy steps. yuuta’s protests go unnoticed, and all he can do is watch them mutter under their breaths.
”— okay. listen up, yuuta.”
he raises his head, and meets maki’s sharp eyes. she’s smiling, strolling over to place the notebook right in front of him. ”here’s how this is gonna go.”
yuuta looks down. 
everything is written out with a pink sharpie, glittery and pretty. there are little hearts doodled out across the pages, and he can tell exactly which ones were drawn by who. all of them look messy, with the exception of inumaki’s perfect little shapes. 
and there, right in the middle, lies a line of text.
panda reads it out, voice loud and cheery, while maki and inumaki stick close. all smiling, as a chill crawls down yuuta’s spine.
”step 1: ask for their number!”
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plan a
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”okay, so… what am i supposed to do, exactly?”
panda throws an arm over yuuta’s shoulder, and he’s enveloped by the scent of fresh sunlight. the weight is heavy, a comfort. ”we’re going with my plan first! it’s the best one, so don’t worry.”
”i don’t know about that,” maki scoffs. ”we can’t ask mai. best case scenario, she’ll laugh at us a little and say no.”
inumaki hums. he rips out a part of the notebook he’s been tasked with carrying, doodling a little face and showing it to the rest of his friends.
yuuta leans in close. it’s a cute doodle, charming. and he can tell who it’s supposed to depict. miwa kasumi.
”yeah, she’s our best bet,” maki sighs, brushing some specks of dust off her jeans. ”she seems like the nicest one in that group.”
yuuta tilts his head, brows furrowed in confusion. he plays with the ring hanging around his neck, a nervous tick he’s never managed to get rid of. ”wait, so…” he trails off, unsure. ”what are we doing, exactly?”
panda tugs him closer, a friendly smile on his face. ”we’re going to their friends for help!” he beams. ”that’ll be easier for you, right?”
a blink. yuuta gazes into the eyes of his friend, something soft blooming in his eyes.
they can be a chaotic bunch — but they’re still so considerate. considerate enough to know asking for your number straight out would be too much for him. considerate enough to think of his comfort, in a way no one else has bothered to before.
(faced with such immense understanding, such genuine friendship, how could he ever bear to let them down?)
”… alright,” yuuta gulps, clutching his ring as if to give him courage. managing a smile. ”let’s do this, then!”
with newfound determination, the four of them seek out miwa kasumi. it doesn’t take too long — she’s studying, going over legal codes in the library, eyes narrowed in concentration. and she isn’t alone.
”hey, miwa. muta.”
the pair look up from their respective textbooks and laptop, meeting the gaze of a certain maki zenin, waltzing over to their table. miwa smiles, but kokichi doesn’t say anything.
”hi, maki! how are you?”
”i’m good,” she answers, straight to the point; but her eyes soften a little. then she gestures towards yuuta with a tilt of her head. ”sorry, but this guy needs your help.” 
”hm?” miwa shifts in her seat, meeting yuuta’s nervous gaze, as he steps forward. ”ah, you’re… okkotsu, right?”
”ah, yeah! sorry for interrupting you two…”
”no, no! please, don’t worry about it,” she grins. sweet and soft, twirling a lock of her hair between her fingers. ”we don't mind. right?”
kokichi still doesn’t say anything. but he nods, when miwa meets his eyes — and yuuta notices that they seem a lot softer when she does.
”so, here’s how it is…”
panda explains the situation to the pair. yuuta looks down at the floor, face flushed as he shifts from foot to foot. by the time he’s finished, miwa looks wholly invested, and kokichi looks a little less like all he wants is for them to leave him and miwa be.
”awww, that’s so sweet!!” she gushes, clasping her hands together. eyes glimmering with excitement.
”right,” maki hums. already a little impatient. ”so, basically — we need their number.”
”… ah. well, um —” miwa trails off, averting her gaze. she looks over at kokichi, but he only shrugs, going back to his coding. ”see, here’s the thing…”
with an apologetic look in her eyes, she turns to yuuta. ”i support you 100% — but i dunno if it’d feel right to just… give away their number like that, you know?” she mumbles, sheepishly. ”i think you should ask them, yourself. that’d be way more romantic!”
”yeah, but that’s a tall hurdle for a socially anxious guy…” panda mutters, patting yuuta’s back.
”still! i’m sure they’d appreciate you being direct.” miwa closes her eyes, a dreamy expression painted on her face. ”i’d be elated if someone asked for my number like that!! all stuttering and shy… it’d be so cute!”
(if anyone notices kokichi stiffening beside her, they don’t mention it.)
maki sighs, resigned. ”well, i don’t think we’re getting any numbers here. good. what kind of creep just texts someone out of nowhere, anyway?”
”i thought it was a good plan!” panda protests, pouting a little. maki shoots him a look.
”it was an awful plan. what were you planning to say? hey, i forced your friend to give me your number, but would you want to hang out sometime?” she crosses her arms with a sharp scoff. ”i’d beat your ass!”
panda grumbles a little under his breath, but doesn’t say anything. 
”sorry i couldn’t be of more help,” miwa mumbles, sheepishly, rubbing the back of her head. ”good luck, though! i hope they say yes!”
”thanks, miwa,” yuuta smiles, already in the process of being tugged away by his friends. ”i really appreciate it!”
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plan a
plan b
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”alright, inumaki’s turn. what’s your take on the situation, mister?”
the boy in question sits up straight, back resting against a tree trunk. he writes something down, and yuuta waits, patiently — absentmindedly staring at the white petals of the apricot trees on campus. pure, fleeting, sweet blossoms unfurling before him.
when he’s finished, inumaki presents the page to yuuta, and everyone gathers round. reading the writing, eyes trailing over his little doodles. panda grins, and maki strokes her chin in contemplation.
”you’re a genius, inu!”
”well, it’s probably the easiest way to go about it…”
yuuta purses his lips. it’s a good plan, he thinks; writing out a note, and passing it to you in the middle of class. that way, he won’t have to turn his feelings into sounds, won’t have to speak them out loud. there’s a safety to it, the trickling of ink across blank papers. one that’s never failed him.
”… that should work,” he mumbles, and inumaki visibly brightens. ”what am i supposed to write, though?”
”just be straightforward.”
”not seconded!” panda huffs, crossing his legs. ”you need to be dramatic. heartfelt. that’ll catch their attention!” he stops to think for a moment, a hum buzzing loudly in his throat. ”hey — why not write them a love poem? put those skills to good use!”
”a love poem?” yuuta squeaks, a slight heat rising to the tips of his ears. ”there’s no way i could do that! and i’m not skilled, i —”
a pause. yuuta bites his lip.
”… it’d just be embarrassing,” he finally mutters, playing with his ring.
(he wonders what rika would think, if she were here. what she’d advise him to do — would she like the love poem idea? probably.)
”well, you could at least try. who knows, maybe they’ll like it,” maki attempts to reassure him, chewing at a piece of gum. ”if they’re anything like miwa, it’ll be easy.”
gnawing at his bottom lip, yuuta emits an anxious hum. deep in thought. maybe you would like it, but… what if you just think it’s cheesy?
maki observes him, intently. listening to the emotions behind his silence. tapping the pads of her fingers on her knee, in a rhythmic motion. ”… at least try writing something out,” she says. ”if you can’t think of anything, then just copy some random old guy. what was his name, uh — catallas? or something?”
yuuta’s gaze snaps up, eyes gone wide. ”catullus?” he gapes, in disbelief. ”are you insane? do you even know what kind of poems he wrote?”
maki shoots him a confused look, and a tilt of her head. ”isn’t he the ’give me a thousand kisses’ guy?”
”he is, but that’s —” a sigh, exasperated. flustered, as it flows from his parted lips. then he shakes his head. ”nevermind. it doesn’t matter.”
”tuna…” inumaki mumbles, nudging yuuta’s shoulder with his head. a silent encouragement. and even with no words, yuuta knows what he’s trying to say.
just be yourself. this is your specialty, right? 
write from your heart.
”inumaki…” yuuta meets his gaze, and is met with a pair of warm eyes. a friendly punch meets his shoulder, soft and delicate. kind.
”… alright. i’ll write it!”
”that’s the spirit!” panda grins. ”just give it to them during tomorrow’s lecture.”
”yeah,” yuuta nods, mustering the courage to smile. ”i will!”
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when yuuta gets home that night, he makes himself a cup of coffee with too much sugar, and gets ready to write.
he listens to maki’s acoustic guitar covers through his headphones, curled up with the fluffy blanket panda gave him, and munches on a hastily made onigiri to give himself much-needed energy.
(writing with a certain pumpkin-themed pencil, basking in the scratching of lead against blank pages.)
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his hands are shaking.
it’s barely noticeable, but it’s there. that nervous shiver of his bones, the rattling of his skeleton. you’re sitting right next to him, so close he can smell the shampoo you use, the mint off your breath —
and yuuta can’t seem to hand you the note.
he spent all last night writing it. putting every single little drop of his love into every single little word. but that fear of rejection still remains, rendering him useless, unable to act.
you’re listening to the lecture, but only halfheartedly, absentmindedly doodling in your notebook. out of boredom, he assumes.
it’s the perfect moment to strike.
yuuta’s hands are shaking, and his heartbeat is stuttering, crawling up his throat. he takes a sip of water, hoping it’ll make the dry sensation go away, but it doesn’t work.
(just be yourself.)
with a deep intake of breath, he pushes the note over to you — not daring to look your way.
his eyes remain glued on the laptop screen in front of him, but he hears you pick it up, hears the rustling of paper as you unfold it. his heart echoes with a similar rhythm, unstable, borderline erratic. the rest of the lecture passes by slowly, minute by minute, at an agonizing pace.
when it finally ends, yuuta has to restrain the urge to run away — turning towards you slowly, hesitantly, as if just the sight of you could blind him if he isn’t careful. but you’re already looking at him. and you’re smiling.
”that was so good, yuuta!”
….
huh?
”sorry, but i honestly don’t have any feedback,” you mumble, eyes trailing over the note again. ”i like it a lot. i didn’t know you wrote poetry!”
”… ah.”  yuuta stumbles for something to say. staring into your eyes, blankly. dumbly. ”t.. thank you! i’m glad you liked it.”
with a brief shake of your head, you smile, and something sickly sweet unfurls in his chest. ”not at all. thanks for letting me read it! i’m sorry i can’t really help you improve…”
mentally, yuuta falls to his knees. places his palms on the floor and dry heaves, clutching his heart. did you not get it? was he not clear enough? he wrote it with you in mind, so —
”maybe you could show it to professor nanami?” you suggest, unaware of the turmoil within the boy to your right. ”i'm sure he’ll be a great help! he can seem a bit intimidating, but he’s nice.”
”.. yeah,” yuuta smiles, weakly. ”i’ll do that. thanks again.”
for a moment, he isn’t even upset. because you flash him another bright smile, and suddenly, even the frustration of yet another setback doesn’t feel so awful.
(maybe it’s fine, he thinks. maybe this is enough; speaking to you, getting to see your smile up close. maybe he doesn’t need anything else, after all.)
”so?” maki questions, waiting for him outside of class with his other two friends. ”how’d it go?”
shoulders slumped, but still wearing a smile on his face, yuuta chuckles. it comes out sounding a little strangled. ”they… thought i wanted their feedback on my poetry.”
….
”what.”
panda attempt to stifle his laughter, but it doesn’t really work. inumaki elbows him gently, but yuuta sees his eyes crinkle, too. he breathes out a low chuckle. ”they liked the poem, at least. so i’m happy.”
a sigh falls from maki’s lips, and she waltzes over to him, a hand on her hip. the other reaches out for the note in his palm. ”let me see.”
quickly unfolding it, her eyes trail across the words on the pages, the flowery lines of writing —
and then she shoots him an unimpressed look.
”.. yuuta,” she pinches the bridge of her nose. ”what the hell is this? you didn’t even mention their number.”
panda leans over her shoulder, peeking at the text. eyes glancing over a couple lines, riddled with sugarsweet metaphors. ”uh, wow. you… really got into it, huh?”
a groan leaves yuuta’s lips, the sound muffled as he cradles his head in his hands. ”please don’t say anything else. i just wanna crawl into a hole and die…”
inumaki shakes his head, erratic, pointing at the poem with shining eyes. ”mentaiko!”
”ah, you liked it? thanks, inumaki…”
the boy in question smiles, shooting yuuta a thumbs up. he returns it with a small smile of his own.
surrounded by his friends, all he can do is bask in their warmth — and the memory of the smile you gave him.
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plan a plan b
plan c
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a groan fills the air, as yuuta slumps over the table. cheek pressed against the cold wood, absently kicking his legs, voice meek and defeated.
”this is never gonna work,” he mutters under his breath. eyes devoid of hope. ” i’m just not cut out for this, guys…”
”aw, c’mon….” panda reaches over to ruffle his hair, palm big and warm. ”don’t give up hope! you want to grow closer to them, don’t you?”
”i do, but…” he sighs. ”this isn’t going very well, is it…?”
inumaki frowns, sending yuuta a sympathetic glance.
”oh, quit moping already!” maki grumbles. ”we just need to keep brainstorming. isn’t it time for my plan, yet?”
”should we really even keep going…?” another sigh, heavy with fatigue. yuuta’s mind spins in circles, tiring him out. rendering him a bit cynical. ”i mean… maybe it’s fine if things stay this way.”
a moment passes. maki looks at him, emitting a soft scoff. ”what, so you’re just gonna keep pining for the rest of the term?”
”that’s the plan.”
”yuuta…” panda pouts, shoes bumping against his beneath the table. ”be more positive! just think about it; with every step you take, you get closer to confessing!”
yet another groan. this one is deep, riddled with exhaustion. muffled into the table. ”that’s the scariest part…”
before either of his friends can begin to persuade him otherwise, encourage him further, a sing-songy voice echoes throughout the air. loud, cheery — a little bit obnoxious.
”oh? did someone just say confess?”
at the same instant the sound reaches their ears, a chill runs down the youths’ spines. in tandem with each other, they raise their heads; gazes falling on a certain satoru gojo.
panda and maki are the first to act, speaking simultaneously as the white haired man inches closer. 
”— no.”
maki closes the notebook containing operation: get yuuta to confess, right before their professor can get close enough to see it. then she turns towards him, shooting him a cold look.
”your hearing’s getting bad,” she hums. ”maybe you should book a doctor’s appointment.”
a pout. gojo takes a seat right beside her, uncomfortably long legs bumping against every single other pair of shoes beneath the table.
”oh, c’mon. you know i heard you.” his hand reaches out to ruffle her hair, but she smacks it away. ”you’re starting to sound just like megumi, y’know that?”
maki grits her teeth. ”guess it’s a genetic thing,” she huffs. ”now can you leave? don’t you have papers to grade?”
”don’t you have papers to write?” gojo smirks, a teasing mirth in his eyes. hidden behind his sunglasses. maki ignores him. 
placing his palms on the table, he leans a little closer, lips curled up into a cheshire grin. foreboding. ”sooo… yuuta’s got himself a little crush, huh?” he teases. ”tell your favorite professor allll about it. maybe i can help!”
”professor geto is our favorite,” maki shoots back, instantaneous.
a soft huff. there’s something sour in gojo’s expression, now. ”that guy? really?”
before the two can argue further, yuuta takes the opportunity to to speak. smiling apologetically, polite and sweet. ”thanks, mr. gojo, but…”
”he doesn't need your help,” maki cuts in. so much for diffusing the tension. ”and do you really expect us to believe you get girls?”
”wha — rude!” gojo scoffs. ”for your information, i’m a natural charmer!”
… 
a moment passes. then another.
”… tough crowd,” he clicks his tongue, met only with four blank stares. ”but, really — let me help! i'm your professor, you know?”
and this time, yuuta thinks that gojo’s smile looks just a little more sincere. something kind and gentle in the way his lips curl up, like a father’s affection for their children. something that makes yuuta falter.
(maki might like mr. geto more — but when it comes to yuuta, his favorite professor is a no-brainer.)
so he speaks up, again. ”we can at least hear him out, right…?” maki shoots him an unimpressed look, but he doesn’t back down. ”we’re stuck, anyway…”
and just like that, gojo brightens. it’s obvious, in the way he sits up, more alert. in the way his grin grows wider. ”right? what you need is the perspective of someone more experienced.”
”have you even talked to a girl before?”
”i see him at ieiri’s office, sometimes.”
”salmon.”
”isn’t she a lesbian? that doesn’t count. i mean, like, in a romantic context.”
”i thought mr. gojo was gay, too?”
”what? no way. have you seen the way he’s dressed —?”
gojo clears his throat, voice loud and grating. demanding attention, cutting his eager students off. ”anyway,” he chirps. ”gather round, children! i’ll tell you exactly how to ask the person you like for their number.”
”wh —” yuuta blinks. ”how’d you…?”
”operation ’get yuuta to confess!’, step 1: ask for their number!” gojo repeats, grinning ear to ear. voice rich with amusement. ”i like the glitter. it’s a nice touch.”
maki huffs. looks like she didn’t close it fast enough.
begrudgingly, the youths quiet down, finally willing to hear their professor out. and gojo seems satisfied, at last, speaking in a hushed whisper; eerily serious all of a sudden. ”ok, so here’s what you do…”
everything goes silent. yuuta strains his ears, and gojo parts his lips. 
”— just ask them! easy, right?
….
”let’s go, yuuta.”
”mentaiko.”
”i heard they're serving those sandwiches you like at the cafeteria today! let's hurry before they run out.”
”ah — i was just kidding!” gojo laughs, as his students get up from their seats. ”i have an actual answer!”
maki grabs her bass, inumaki takes the notebook, and panda ushers yuuta away. they begin to walk down the hall, ignoring the pleas of the man behind them. pouting, as his shout echoes throughout the hallway. 
”kids! come back!”
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plan a plan b plan c
plan d
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”okay, so this is going absolutely nowhere.”
relishing in the shadow cast by the giant campus tree, the four friends sit on their usual table, sandwiches in hand. yuuta takes a bite of his, tentative. a little disheartened.
”really, guys… i appreciate it a lot, but maybe we should stop here.”
maki huffs. reaching across the table, she gently smacks him over the head with her can of sprite. ”no way. we still haven’t tried my plan.”
he leans back, a little further, a hesitant look in his eyes. the sun shines down, relentless, but the air smells like rain. in the distance he sees clouds, dark, approaching at a slow pace.
an omen, he thinks. a reason not to speak out.
rika always liked the rain. she liked the scent that came with it, the puddles she could jump in. she liked shaking the branches of tiny trees, just to see him jolt and squeak as the raindrops hit him.
the ring around his neck weighs heavy on his heart. the promise of it, the oath within the silver.
(when we grow up, let’s get married!)
”earth to yuuta!”
his eyes flutter open.
the sun shines down, embracing the contours of his face. painting his world yellow. from this angle, staring up at the tree, he can see it breaking through; between the gaps of the green leaves, the white blossoms. forcing its way into his line of vision.
a flicker of hope.
”do you want to hear the plan or not?” maki scoffs, crossing her arms and tapping at her elbow. impatient.
yuuta meets her gaze, finding it in him to muster up just a little more determination. ”yeah,” he breathes. ”i do.”
a smile blooms on her face. ”good. alright.”
panda and inumaki inch closer to the pair, careful not to knock over the cans of soda resting on the table. in a mess of limbs and tousled hair, they gather round.
this is it, yuuta thinks — the final plan. if it fails, he’ll just have to keep pining from afar. memorizing your smile, over and over, until you graduate and part ways. 
this is it.
maki parts her lips.
”— just ask them,” she says. ”straight out.”
silence. 
a moment passes. a soft, pleasant breeze flits by, caressing yuuta’s skin. his ring sways with the wind, gently. 
”… huh?!”
panda furrow his brows, leaning closer with his palms on his knees. ”i thought we agreed that was stupid!” inumaki huffs out a low affirmative noise, holding his sketchbook tightly to his chest. but maki only puffs out her chest.
yuuta tilts his head, with a soft furrow of his brows. ”didn’t you just cuss out mr. gojo for suggesting that…?”
”well, it’s dumb when he says it…” she mutters, under her breath. then her gaze turns firm. ”look — yuuta.”
when the two lock eyes, he notices a steadfast determination, glimmering in her irises. something almost burning.
”you aren’t going to get anywhere if you’re too cowardly to even look them in the eye,” she tells him, not allowing him to squirm away from the eye contact. ”you guys can come up with those convoluted plans all you want, but there’s no way you’ll grow closer if you can’t face them.”
tousling her hair, softly, maki lets out a sigh. there’s a kindness to it, distinct. he can tell she’s trying to be tactful. 
”if you really want to get to know them, then you have to be direct. and you have to believe in yourself. you’ve already resigned yourself to the fact that they’ll say no — but that’s just dumb.”
panda winces, under his breath, but doesn’t say anything. maybe this is exactly what yuuta needs to hear.
the boy in question listens, the eyes of his friend boring into his own. determined, confident, sincere — everything he isn’t. everything he wants to be.
”even if you don’t believe it, you’re a charming guy. we all think so,” she continues, matter-of-factly. angered affection overflowing in her voice.
”have some confidence, dammit!”
a moment passes. yuuta feels his lips part, ever so slightly. a little speechless.
panda and inumaki sit shoulder to shoulder, hands over their eyes, shielding themselves from the sight in front of them. comically, as if it’s too bright to look at directly. 
”this… overflowing tough love…!”
”salmon roe…!”
maki grins, all teeth, a little wolfish. but kind. ”the worst thing they can say is no, right? 
yuuta blinks. ”maki…” he mumbles, looking into her eyes, a certain sensation running through his chest. a kind of confidence. passed on from her to him — one friend to another. the most natural exchange in the world.
then he smiles. a little meek, somewhat awkward — but bright. ”yeah. yeah, you’re right!”
the lazy grin on her lips only deepens, as she gets up to her feet, dusting non-existent dirt off her jeans. reaching a hand out for yuuta to take. ”c’mon, loser. shape up. you’re gonna steal their heart, aren’t you?”
a moment passes.
yuuta takes her hand in his. ”i am,” he swallows down a gulp. willing his voice to sound even a little bit self-assured.
and she pulls him up, effortlessly, overflowing with a natural resilience. still grinning cheekily. encouraging him. ”you’re gonna go out there and do your best, right?”
”i — i am!”
another voice chimes in. ”you’re gonna finish my essay for me this week, right?”
”i am!”
”wait —”
maki hits panda over the head with a soft thwack. a wince leaves his lips, and inumaki giggles, quieting down when maki sends him a warning glance.
”don’t throw him off his game,” she huffs. then she turns to yuuta once more. ”let’s go find them. alright, loverboy?”
a smile blooms on his lips. grateful, to be surrounded by such sunny people. ones that make it a little easier to smile each day. ”right.”
— but before either of them can take a step forward, a warm voice spills into the open air.
”um, yuuta?”
the boy in question stops in his tracks. he feels his eyes widen, spinning on his heels, hair ruffled by the breeze — turning to look at the source of the sound. 
it’s you.
you, with your sunkissed smile, that inviting voice. that soothing, soothing presence. one that has his heartbeat picking up in speed, hands growing sweaty, throat running dry. one that makes him feel a little bit feverish. and you’re looking right at him, into his eyes.
”hey!” he sputters, blinking rapidly to convince himself that he isn’t hallucinating. but you just keep smiling, answering his awkward greeting without skipping a beat.
”hi! sorry, could i just… talk to you, for a second?” 
he blinks. the world stops spinning.
(you… want to talk….
to him?)
attempting to find the words, any words, he opens his mouth — but nothing comes out. not a single syllable, no vowels, not even a sound. nothing at all.
he can only stare, star-struck.
it’s not until his friends push him forward that he’s snapped out of it; they surround him, on all sides, wearing matching grins. teasing and excited.
”don’t worry, he’s all yours!”
”have fun, you two!”
”salmon!”
— then they’re off. 
yuuta tries to reach for their sleeves, in a weak attempt to keep them from leaving, but they’re gone before he can even blink. leaving him all alone, with someone he can’t talk to without experiencing intense symptoms of heart failure. 
he stumbles for something to say, again, but thankfully you beat him to it.
”sorry for interrupting you guys,” you say, voice set to a low tilt. apologetic. and his throat unclogs, a little.
”ah, no, it’s fine!” he smiles, maybe a little too giddy. wanting so badly to reassure you, to put you at ease. ”i’m happy to speak to you!”
(oh god oh no why did i say that —)
your smile widens, blooming like a flower in the sunlight. unfurling in front of his very eyes. ”me too!” you say, excitedly. ”i feel like you and i have been talking more, recently… it’s nice.”
eyes crinkling, you wringle your hands together, and look at him fondly. yuuta’s surprised he manages to keep his knees from buckling.
”i think so too!” he grins, ears pink and dimples showing. 
both of you smile. the breeze curls around your hair, illuminating the colour of your eyes. yuuta stops breathing, for a moment — just taking it all in.
”so — anyway…” you murmur, fiddling with the fabric of your pants. ”um… haha. sorry, i’m — a little nervous…”
yuuta blinks.
(he knows where this is going. all the signs are there, right in front of him; the flush of your cheeks, the nervous tapping of your fingers, the hesitance in your eyes. he’s read enough shoujo manga — he knows what this means.)
and he almost can’t believe it.
all he can do is keep smiling, hoping it’ll give you even a fraction of the peace that your smile brings him. ”don’t be,” he says, voice soothing. scratching the back of his head. ”whatever it is, i’ll — um. i’ll listen, so…”
he clears his throat. swallowing thickly.
”just — whenever you're ready.”
there’s no mistaking it. your ears are painted pink, and you’re gnawing at your bottom lip. fiddling with your fingers and avoiding his gaze, with a soft inhale, clear air filling your lungs. he wonders if your throat feels as dry as his, if your heart is beating even half as fast.
”um… okay, so…” you mumble, eyes unable to stay in one place for too long. a soft bout of laughter escapes you, and he can tell you’re trying to stave off your own nervosity; it sends a pang of ache running through his chest.
he wants to tell you that there’s no need to be nervous. that he’d listen to anything you have say, absolutely anything, no matter what it is.
he wants to tell you that he’d never let you down, that he’d have to be foolish to even think the thought.
he wants to tell you that he’ll hear you out. whenever, wherever. for as long as you need.
”do you, um…”
a gulp. your eyes find his, and there’s a soft kind of decisiveness in them. 
here it comes, he thinks. here it comes.
yuuta feels the heat on his cheeks, ears burning. and he hears the patter of his heartbeat, loud and heavy, echoing in his muddled mind like a mantra. but his chest feels light; fluttery, butterflies dancing around uncontrollably. 
clutching the ring around his neck, subconsciously, he looks you in the eye.
they’re bright, glimmering like little galaxies — or maybe more like summer skies. painted over with a warm hue, something nostalgic and sweet, so pretty it hurts. if he strains his eyes enough, he’s almost sure he can see the swirling of fluffy clouds in the depths of your irises.
a smile rests on your lips. it's almost overwhelmingly sweet, albeit a little shy, as you part your pretty lips. voice soaked in nervosity, tingly and shaky, and something he knows to be puppy love.
a shallow, dry intake of breath. yuuta braces himself.
here it comes. 
your voice spills out into the air, dripping with honey and magnolias. he thinks to himself that he’d like to hear the melodic lilt of it every single day; before going to bed, right after waking up. walking to campus together, heading back to the dorms when the sky gets dark.
just the sound alone would be enough.
subconsciously, he tugs on the strap of his backpack. thinking of the pencil inside it. his lucky charm, along with the ring around his neck — ordinary objects, both too precious for words.
(when we grow up, let’s get married!
you can keep it, if you want.)
here it comes, yuuta thinks.
a new beginning.
he strains his ears, and purses his lips, and watches your lips move as you finally ask —
”do you have maki’s number?”
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(somewhere in the distance, from an inconspicuous bush, the muffled screams of three students and one professor resounds.)
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