#and he’s out there longboarding

[izvmimi]

the last time i was in a shojo anime watching binge i was 17 and my ex had just quiet quit our relationship and all i did was lay in my dorm room and cry LMAO

[star-shaped-thoughts]

Dick Grayson on roller skates, Jason Todd on a skateboard, Tim Drake on a longboard & Damian on rollerblades. Together they are a menace to the local skatepark

[mono-socke]

it's him, the man ever

he is so cool

27th July, 2023 vs 27th July 2024

[rafecameronssl4t]

The Swell || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: S4 ep 4 scene but it’s Sofia’s perspective + abit more angst but still reader x Rafe no use of her name

Warnings: angst!!!!! Mention of dead baby turtles (?), Ruthie (yeh she deserves her own tw),

Word counts: 2,267

A/n: how could I not post on our my man’s bday 😣😔

MASTERLIST

Divider by @h-aewo

As you drive down the beach, the Pogues come into view, their carefree laughter and familiar presence tightening the knot of unease in your stomach. You glance at Rafe, silently hoping the car won’t stop near them, your thoughts spinning in quiet desperation. But when Topper's Jeep slows down and pulls to a halt right next to them, you shut your eyes for a brief moment, taking a sharp breath through your nose to steady yourself.

Rafe, ever attuned to your mood, notices the shift and squeezes your thigh, his touch firm and reassuring. “It’s fine,” he mutters, his voice low and confident, though the tension remains. You look down at his hand resting on your leg, a gesture that says more than words ever could. Rafe helps you down from Topper’s ridiculously raised Jeep, his grip steady as you hop down onto the sand.

The sun beats down, casting long shadows as you take in the scene around you—Topper and John B already in conversation, their words tinged with the familiar undercurrent of rivalry. The air feels thick, charged with a subtle tension that lingers in every glance exchanged between them.

You go through the motions, helping set up blankets and gear, though your attention keeps drifting back to Rafe. He’s sitting a few feet away, legs stretched out in front of him, gaze fixed on the surfers gliding across the water. His sunglasses hide most of his expression, but you can tell he’s watching intently, his mind elsewhere.

When you finally make your way over, he turns his head slightly, reaching for a towel and placing it beside him without a word. You settle down next to him, the sand beneath the towel still warm from the sun, and you let out a small sigh. "Hey, Rafe," you say softly, your voice almost drowned out by the sound of the waves crashing in the distance.

Your gaze shifts to Sarah, longboard in hand as she walks out of the water, her eyes locked on her brother. A light smile tugs at your lips as you watch her, the hope in you flickering. "There’s Sarah," you continue, trying to sound upbeat. "Do you think she’d want to talk?" Rafe doesn’t respond right away. His eyes stay focused on the horizon, his expression unreadable.

After a beat, he finally looks towards Sarah, their eyes meeting across the sand. The moment stretches out, thick with everything they’re not saying. "No," Rafe says flatly, shaking his head. "She can come to me if she wants." His voice lacks emotion, as if he’s already resigned to the distance between them. He lifts his beer, taking a slow drink, his nonchalance masking something deeper. You nod in response, sighing softly.

You tried, but it’s not enough. It never seems to be enough. The next few minutes pass in quiet observation. You watch the surfers, your gaze following JJ and Topper as they glide across the water, their competitive nature apparent even in something as simple as catching a wave. JJ, always the wild card, edges too close to Topper and bumps him, sending Topper tumbling into the surf.

Rafe shifts beside you, sitting up a little straighter. "Hey! Blatant poach, man!" he calls out, his voice carrying over the beach, and you can’t help but smile. There’s something almost boyish in the way he yells, a rare glimpse of lightness in an otherwise heavy day. Your momentary smile fades when Ruthie’s piercing voice cuts through the air.

"What the hell was that?!" she shouts, her tone laced with irritation. You roll your eyes instinctively, already feeling the familiar annoyance settle in. Ruthie. She’s always been a thorn in your side, and she knows it. She thrives on it, always pushing just enough to get under your skin, but never enough to cross any real lines—at least not with Rafe around. She wasn’t stupid—she knew better than to challenge his authority, even though she could get away with nearly everything else.

JJ, still in the water, celebrates his small victory with a cocky grin, looking over at you both. Rafe’s response is swift, flipping him the middle finger without even blinking. JJ shrugs it off, giving a sheepish smile, and you laugh softly, shaking your head at the playful exchange. "I don’t know what JJ’s deal was," Kelce chimes in as he and Topper make their way back to the shade.

"That was bullshit, jumping in on you like that." His tone is casual, but there’s a slight edge to it, the kind that always lingers when someone feels disrespected. "Classic low-rent move," Topper agrees, brushing sand from his hair. Rafe’s snarky grin returns as he helps you up from the sand. "Surf violence is violence, man," he comments dryly, earning a chuckle from the group. But before the mood can lighten, the unmistakable sound of an engine revving catches your attention.

You glance over, spotting Ruthie now in the driver’s seat of Topper’s Jeep, her expression smug as she glances towards the Pogues. "Instead of whining about it," Ruthie cocks her head in their direction, a dangerous gleam in her eyes, "let’s drift. Give them a taste of their own medicine." Topper immediately shakes his head. "No, no. We’re not doing that," he says, his voice firm but calm. For all his bravado, Topper is often the most level-headed among them, the one willing to walk away from unnecessary drama.

You breathe out a quiet sigh of relief, hoping the situation will diffuse. Ruthie, however, isn’t backing down. "Are you afraid?" she taunts, her tone condescending as she stares him down, tilting her head with a smirk. "I told them we’re gonna be cool," Topper says, shooting a glance at Kelce, as if looking for backup. "Yeah, but they jumped in on you, bro," Kelce replies, still riled up from the earlier incident. "They stomped all over our home base."

"Never knew you kooks owned the beach," you mutter under your breath, loud enough for Rafe to hear. He chuckles softly, glancing at you with an amused look. Ruthie, undeterred, turns her attention back to Kelce, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "That doesn’t seem fair, does it? Are you cool with that, Kelce? It’s kind of sad, bro." "Pathetic," Ruthie adds, and a few others let out chuckles, their laughter only adding fuel to the tension.

Topper’s face tightens, his expression darkening as the tension between him and Ruthie reaches its peak. "What’d you say?" he snaps, his tone sharp with frustration, eyes narrowing at her. He’s clearly fed up with her antics, embarrassed as she goads him in front of their friends. The heated argument escalates quickly, Ruthie's biting comments cutting through the air like knives. Topper, red-faced and tense, tries to rein her in, but Ruthie only digs in further, her smirk never fading.

You lean into Rafe, resting your head against his broad back, arms loosely wrapped around his torso for comfort as you watch the scene unfold. It was horrifying but impossible to look away from. Ruthie, always the instigator, keeps pushing, her voice rising above the murmur of waves and laughter. She’s relentless, her eyes gleaming with reckless energy.

"Well, I’m about to buzz down there and show them whose beach this is," she declares, the wild determination in her tone sending a ripple of unease through the group. "You gonna make me go by myself?" You lift your head, casting a glance at Rafe, silently asking him to do something, anything. His eyes flicker with annoyance, but he doesn’t intervene, his usual detached demeanour firmly in place.

Topper, as much as he tries to keep some semblance of control, eventually gives in, rounding the Jeep and sliding into the passenger seat with a defeated huff. The sound of the engine revving cuts through the beach as they prepare for another display of immaturity. "This is ridiculous," you mutter under your breath, crossing your arms over your chest as you watch them speed off. Sand flies up behind the tires, scattering across the shoreline.

Rafe shrugs beside you, seemingly unbothered, his voice calm but clipped. "She’s just being Ruthie." "That’s not an excuse," you retort, sharper than you intended. "Is she fucking insane?" Your words are laced with disbelief as you scoff, eyes narrowing as the Jeep swerves wildly down the beach. Ruthie, clearly drunk on adrenaline, comes dangerously close to losing control.

You hold your breath as she veers sharply, missing the Pogues by mere inches. Your heart races in your chest, the tension in the air palpable. Rafe watches in silence, tipping his head back and taking a long swig from his beer, the bottle tilted lazily in his hand as if none of it phases him. You, on the other hand, can’t tear your eyes away from the scene. "Jesus Christ…" you mutter under your breath, jaw slack in shock. Suddenly, a splash of liquid flies through the air, dousing Kiara.

You watch as she recoils, visibly shocked and angry, while the Pogues gather around her, already shouting in response. The kooks around you jeer and laugh, their obnoxious behaviour only adding fuel to the fire. You roll your eyes, disgusted by the immaturity that surrounds you. How could they find this funny? Your gaze shifts back to Rafe, searching his face for any hint of how he’s feeling, but his expression remains unreadable.

His jaw tightens ever so slightly as he scratches his head, eyes flicking back and forth between the Jeep and the chaos Ruthie has left in her wake. Frustration bubbles in your chest — was he angry? Amused? He was impossible to read, and that drove you mad. You couldn’t stand his indifference, not when things had spiraled out of control. "You good with that?" you ask, trying to keep your voice steady, but the irritation seeps through as you turn to face him, arms crossed tightly over your chest.

He doesn't respond immediately, which only adds fuel to the fire. His silence grates on you. Then, after Kiara and JJ confront Ruthie and she threatens to press charges over some meaningless provocation, your patience wears thin. You’ve had enough of the childish antics, the toxic energy swirling around the beach. It was exhausting, and you wanted nothing more than to leave.

"Not cool, Rafe," you say, your voice wavering with disappointment. There’s an ache in your chest, a familiar one that resurfaces whenever you feel let down by him. You want him to see how wrong all of this is, but instead, he shrugs and brushes past you, his focus only on grabbing another beer. His casual indifference feels like a slap in the face. "They deserved it, baby," he mutters as he opens the cooler.

His words make your blood boil. Deserved it? You can’t believe him. It’s like the two of you are on completely different wavelengths, and the divide between you feels wider than ever. Spinning around, you glare at him, anger and hurt flooding your system. "I want to leave," you say, voice firm, holding his gaze as he turns to look at you, his eyes narrowing in challenge.

"Now!" you insist, your frustration bubbling over, leaving no room for negotiation. You’re done with the day, with the drama, with everything. Without waiting for his response, you turn on your heel and start walking away, the sound of the waves crashing behind you drowned out by the pounding in your chest. You can feel his eyes on your back, the tension hanging thick in the air, but you don’t stop.

“Babe, hold on,” Rafe calls after you, his voice almost pleading, but you don’t slow down. You grab your beach bag, throwing it over your shoulder with more force than necessary, eyes fixed ahead. You refuse to let him see how upset you really are, not in front of Ruthie and Topper. Especially not when Ruthie’s wearing that smug smile, clearly enjoying the chaos she’s stirred up.

Your jaw clenches as you storm past them, feeling the weight of their judgment. Rafe’s footsteps grow louder behind you, his longer stride quickly closing the distance. "Just calm down," he mutters as he reaches out, his hand catching your elbow in an attempt to stop you. The touch is gentle, but it ignites the anger bubbling beneath the surface, and you immediately yank your arm away, shoving his hand off with a sharp motion.

He steps in front of you, blocking your path, his brows furrowing as he tries to read your expression. "That wasn’t fair, Rafe," you say quietly, your voice cutting through the space between you both. The frustration, disappointment, and anger you’ve been holding in all day spill over. "You saw what Ruthie did! How can you just stand there and act like it’s fine?" Your words come out sharper than you intended, but you’re past caring.

You need him to understand, to see how wrong it all is. Rafe’s lips press into a thin line, his gaze shifting momentarily to the ground before meeting yours again. There’s a flicker of something in his eyes—guilt, maybe—but it’s quickly replaced by defensiveness. "She’s Topper’s girlfriend," he snaps, his voice low and tight. "What do you want me to do? I can’t control what she does or doesn’t do."

You let out a bitter laugh, stepping back and shaking your head in disbelief. "So what? You’d rather watch her humiliate people instead? Watch her throw stuff at Kie like a child? Drive over those baby turtles?" Your voice rises, sharp and raw. "That’s what you’re okay with?" His jaw tightens as he scratches his head, avoiding your gaze. "It wasn’t that big of a deal," he mutters, but there’s something in the way he says it—a hint of guilt that he’s trying to bury under his indifference.

"Not that big of a deal?" You repeat, your voice thick with disbelief. "You know what she did was wrong, Rafe. I know you do. You just stood there and didn’t do a fucking thing." He sighs, frustrated, running a hand through his hair. "You could’ve stood up for Kie, for anyone. But instead, you just stood there and let Ruthie act like a total psycho, and now you’re defending it?"

Rafe’s face hardens, but you can see the flicker of guilt in his eyes, the way his gaze shifts uncomfortably. He knows. He knows what Ruthie did was messed up, and it infuriates you even more that he won’t admit it, that he’s hiding behind the excuse of not wanting to cause drama with Topper. "It wasn’t worth starting a fight over," he says, his voice tight, as if he’s trying to convince himself more than you.

You throw your hands up, exasperated. "It’s not about starting a fight! It’s about doing the right thing! You just stood there, Rafe. You watched it happen, and you knew it was wrong, and you still did nothing!" His eyes flash with irritation, but underneath it, you can see the guilt he’s trying to bury. "Why are you making this about me?" he snaps, his voice defensive. "I didn’t tell her to do anything. It’s not my fault."

"No, but you watched it happen, and that’s just as bad!" Your voice cracks slightly, the frustration and hurt blending together. "You know Ruthie crossed a line. If it had been anyone else, you wouldn’t have let it slide, but because it’s her, and because it’s Topper, you’re acting like it’s no big deal." Rafe clenches his jaw, his frustration evident, but there’s something more in his eyes now—regret, maybe.

He’s not used to being called out like this, not used to being the one who’s wrong. "What do you want me to say?" he mutters, his voice lower, less confident. "It’s not like I could’ve stopped her." Your heart races, and you shoot back, your voice steady but laced with heat. "You chose to stay silent, and that says more than any half-hearted excuse you could come up with. It's pathetic!”

As you confront him, he steps closer, a tangible tension crackling between you. His voice turns low and icy. "Watch it." The warning hangs in the air, but you refuse to back down. He exhales sharply, running both hands through his hair, a gesture of agitation that betrays the storm of emotions brewing inside him. "I don't want to fight with you over something like this," he insists, the frustration lacing his tone, making it tremble with barely contained irritation.

"It’s not worth it." You stare at him, incredulous, your heart racing as the anger you felt moments ago begins to dissolve, replaced by a deeper, simmering disappointment that settles heavily in your chest. It’s a familiar ache, one that stirs memories of past arguments where the same sentiments echoed in different words. "Not worth it?" you echo, your voice soft but laced with hurt. Your words hang in the air, and for a moment, you search his eyes, hoping to find a flicker of understanding.

But he doesn’t respond, his gaze dropping to the sand beneath his feet, as if the grains can offer him some comfort. You see a flicker of doubt cross his features, and for an instant, you think he might actually admit it—might actually acknowledge the truth you’ve laid bare. But instead, he shrugs, a small, helpless gesture that only deepens the ache in your chest. It’s as if he’s trying to dismiss the weight of the situation, but it only leaves you feeling more isolated.

"That’s all you can say?" you press, hurt and disappointment lacing your tone again. "I don’t know what you want from me." "I want you to care," you say, your voice quieter now, the fight slowly draining out of you. "I want you to care enough to stand up for what’s right, not just for what’s easy. But I guess that’s too much to ask."

Rafe’s face flickers, something like guilt or frustration passing over his features, but he doesn’t say anything. He just stares at you, jaw clenched, the space between you filled with everything he won’t say. You shake your head, the disappointment settling in like a weight in your chest

[cosmicpoutine]

timbern headcanons (mostly bernard)

some are 18+

bernard named the specials at his restaurant stupid bilogy shit like "mitochondria"

janet used to hum when she was distracted, and tim does that too to calm himself down, and once bernard notices, he starts humming tim to sleep after a long night of patrol.

because of the pain cult, bernard's pain tolerance is stupidly hight so they like to experiment with bdsm, but tim always goes easy because he's scared of triggering bernard.

they tried shibari once, but tim, out of pure bat instinct, would free himself within 5 seconds, so it just wasn't as fun (i mean, he does this for a living come on)

bernard has a bellybutton piercing

when bernard comes over, he makes extra food to make sure tim has left over for a few days.

soon bernard notices steph comes over to steal left overs so he makes even more food, then cass and duke also come over and soon enough bernard is feeding the entire batfam like a bunch of pidgeons

damien is suspiciously approving of bernard, but he's the youngest sibling, so he acts nice around bernard specifically to piss off tim.

bernard thinks damian is the sweetest kid he's ever met

whenever someone asks tim about the B necklace, he just says it's for barbie girl as a joke. eventually, he starts calling bernard barbie.

bernard is an avid listener of ayesha erotica

bernard walks really silently, not enough to catch a bat by surprise, but enough for tim to only notice bernard when he's already in the same room. he learned this from sneaking away from his parents.

tim and bernard go skating together, but bernard prefers longboards

they have adopted the cover art cat, but never named her so they call her "calico"

they did not know calico cats are 99% of the time females, so they referred to calico with male pronouns for the longest time until damian reminded both of them how stupid they are.

when bernard comes off work late, he usually looks for robin so they can have late dinner together in an empty parking lot

most rogues know bernard is connected to robin, but they quickly learn hes crazier than the bats and leave him alone.

bernard still has no filter so he will say insane shit in front of the bats and they all go suspicious of him for at least a week

bernard listens to true crime podcasts

timbern uses their engagement rings as earrings, partially because bernard can't have rings in the kitchen and tim can't wear rings as robin.

tim also wears his parents' wedding rings in the B necklace

[theoceansluvr]

Percy Jackson x Surfer! Reader

warnings; none ! author's note; starting to notice how useful my obsession with the beach really is for writing.. thank you Amphitrite for this blessing !! my favorite sport and my favorite boy, literally perfect !

like my marnie biologist reader one, match destined by the Fates !

you probably met on the beach when percy was out at the cabin with his mom and he instantly knew he needed you in is life.

sally was honestly here for it because well, that's how she met Poseidon !

consider it a family meet cute that passes down from generation to generation

you guys collect seashells together ?

personally i'd say for jewelry making but that's up to y'all <9

you teaching percy how to surf and he's automatically good at it !!!

you think he's already done it before be he swears he's never even touched a surfboard before you met

just one of his lovely sea child traits i suppose

MATCHING BOARDS

percy def rides longboard but definitely tried shortboard once and fell into the water

def learned how to wax surfboards just for you !

goes to all your competitions if you compete

he only doesn't show up if it interferes with his swim meets

WHICH LEADS ME TO MY NEXT POINT !

he yaps about you to his team all time

like "Oh you're a good swimmer ? Well my partner is even better AND they surf !"

he's hopeless really

has grown so used to the smell of sunscreen at this point he could probably get the exact brand you use based on the scent alone

doesn't want to be in your way while you surf so he just sits in the sand and draws little hearts with your initials

you guys did that one trend where people find rocks on the beach that match their partners eye colors

you know the one

he learned how to wrap stones just so you guys could wear them as necklaces

(need someone like him so bad)

cruel summer coded relationship may i say ?

when you're just chillin' on the beach he always talks about how you could totally make it to the Olympics

you take his remarks at face value but it definitely helps with your confidence !

unironically says cowabunga now ??

you don't even use it, probably

he just thinks he's a comedic genius

freaked out a little when you turtle rolled in front of him

(i choked on water the first time so can't even blame the man)

thought you were going to drown then you popped back up and smiled at him like nothing happened

needless to say, that's how he learned that term

your first kiss was probably during sunset or something cheesy like that, sitting on your boards and he just

leans over and kisses you, ignoring the fact you tasted like saltwater because it was you

it's now a little tradition that you kiss before going out <9

ending it here because i can and will ramble about this man and surfing forever and ever😞

[featherwurm]

Well... this was supposed to be a simple little sketch (you're gonna have to zoom in) to go with some small head-cannons that grew legs and wandered away:

In the Modern AU (where nothing is really different I just use it to draw modern trappings on the gang) after whatever happens, and things are good, the tadfools go out for a nice lunch together in the park with their favorite pedestrian rides. They're in Bloomridge, which here is more like Golden Gate Park or Central Park - a huge area for pleasant recreation.

From right to left:

Karlach: Rollerblades. Safety equipment - elbow, knee pads, hand guards. Look - Regular casual clothes.

Tav: Roller Skates. Safety equipment - none ("if I die I die.") Look - Usual gym/active fit.

Wyll: Longboard skateboard. Safety equipment - helmet worn incorrectly (straps loose). Look - Day out with friends urban causal.

Lae'zel: Beloved cherry red BMX bike. Safety equipment - all of it, as is good and proper. Look - Dirtbag off-roader.

Shadowheart: Silver beach cruiser of her dreams* with tassels and a basket and everything. Safety equipment - none. Look - Summer sundress.

Gale: Recumbent bike with tressym trailer**. Safety equipment - proper helmet and wrist guards. Look - Little matched bicycling outfit.

Astarion: One of those motorized unicycles (probably shouldn't be riding this on the bike path.) Safety equipment - none and he's on his phone. Look - Casual but expensively branded***.

Scratch: Having a great time.

Honestly they're all having a great time. They're buddies! Bonus, they run into Aylin and Isobel who are also out for a ride on their tandem:

*Karlach helped her get it all perfectly sparkly and detailed the last time she cleaned her motorcycle.

**It's open, she can fly out if she wants, but she's not as young as she used to be and likes to have a chauffeur sometimes. Plus she and Gale are having a nice chat. (Stickers says 'Tressym on Board' and there's a sticker for his university. The flags are a Waterdeep Flag, and two university pennants.)

***His shoulder bag has his latest embroidery projects all framed up to work on when they stop.

[hannie-dul-set]

CRASH & BURN.

p — PARK SUNGHOON x gn! reader. g — fluff, humor. w — swearing, one absolutely horrendous dad joke, the secondhand embarrassment is even worse this time i'm not sorry at all, the rest of the en-kids are also losers. 1.3k words.

note — listen, who am i to deny the public from their needs and wants? i have no idea how rizzless hoon became such a hit, but ask and you shall receive. i'm sure this won't be the last you'll see of this loser. PART ONE. if you enjoy loser! hoon, you might also enjoy this other series of mine.

also tagging those who were asking for a part two hope u all don't mind! — @gyulune @jngwnlvs @snowysab @miercerise @karinasswifee @cerealdreamwriter @dinonuguaegi @tyongff-ff

for the past five days, you have been routinely returning to the skatepark at the same time without fail. this has obviously attracted questions from your friends considering the first time you tried out a longboard, you crashed and scraped and bruised your chin within seconds, but you can’t exactly tell them the truth about your endeavor— that you’ve been trying to catch a glimpse of mr. kuromi bandaid with the rollerblades again, and being left disappointed every single time.

he hasn’t shown up. not even once.

it’s day five, and there’s still no sign of him nor his lollipop. it’s day five, and you’re just about to give up until you spot from your peripheral a familiar group of boys that scared the shit out of you the other day— except this time, they aren’t staring at you like maniacs, and they seem to be one person less.

“are you fucking stupid?” you overhear as you hesitantly approach their circle, cautious steps because they’re still as intimidating as you can remember. they all look so serious, two individuals glaring at each other while the rest simply watch, both unconcerned and amused. “oh yeah? you really think you can beat me? wanna duke it out right now, dickwad?”

cold sweat breaks out and you freeze in your tracks, expecting them to spiral into a fist fight.

“my dragonite will sweep your fucking team, loser.”

“your dragonbitch doesn’t stand a chance against my tyranitar!”

nevermind. you really shouldn’t be so quick to judge them again.

you regain the bounce in your step and race up before they could metaphorically kick each other's asses.

“hi!” 

you flinch when the six heads suddenly snap towards you. your smile twitches, discomfort  lasering into your skin from the half a dozen set of narrowed eyes leering at you so intently and so intensely. “who are you?” the one previously bragging about his dragonite asks.

“dumbass.” another one smacks the former on the backside of his skull. “it’s shoelaces.”

the nickname sets a few lightbulbs off, and a pair breaks away from their violent staring at you to give each other knowing glances. “oh, shit!” this time it’s mr. tyranitar who exclaims. “right. the dude hoon absolutely decimated himself in front of. poor guy. he’s still going through the five stages of grief.”

hoon must mean sunghoon. you want to open your mouth and present your business about the missing individual, but it’s not so easy to butt in when they’re busy conversing amongst themselves.

“what do they want?” 

“how should i know? i’m not them?” 

“no fucking shit. but what do you think they want?”

“maybe it’s about hoon?”

“no way. that guy’s done for.”

“hey, don’t be too harsh on him! he’s grieving!”

“what if it’s because we‘re being too loud—”

“what if they’re here to have a pokemon batt—”

“you do realize they can hear you, right?” 

light-haired guy is right. you can very much hear them, and they’ve all finally quieted down, slowly turning their heads to you once more but with a dampened intensity this time. they’re waiting for you to speak. you can’t believe you thought they were scary. you can’t believe you were intimidated by a group of nerds.

“sorry for the intrusion,” you smile, pressing your palms together. “i noticed one of your friends hasn’t been coming around lately. is he okay?”

a cough. a nudge. a silent conversation between the six pairs of eyes. “he’s been sick these past few days,” dragonite owner finally says. “sickeningly unbearab— ow!” 

your smile disappears. “oh no.” he’s sick? he already didn’t seem that strong when you met him the other day, collapsing into the ground and all.

“i think you can help him get better— ouch! jungwon, what the fuck?” one of them gets hit again. you’re sure it’s been the same guy hitting the rest of them since earlier.

“why are you asking about him?”

the nicest looking one squeezes out of their group while asking his earnest question, fishing out the answer from you with bright, curious eyes. “ah,” you sound out. “i just wanted to tell him that i also think his shoelaces are really cool.”

they stare at you, then stare at each other. and then someone spews out, “is that a new pick-up line, or some shit?” before getting hit again, and the light-haired guy comes forward to block the squabble happening behind him, and to tell you that they’ll be dragging their friend tomorrow at the same time (isn’t he supposed to be sick?) so you can compliment his shoelaces in person(?), and that they are looking forward to welcoming you to their family (whatever the fuck that means).

as promised, they do drag the sick man into the skatepark— literally dragging him because the guy who introduced himself yesterday as jake is pulling him forward by the sleeve while jungwon pushes him from behind as the wheels of his roller skates make sure that sunghoon keeps on moving. he looks like he’s ready to move on into the afterlife. your eyes light up when they drag him closer.

“c’mon, hyung! just a little bit more— a liiiiittle bit—

“i told you, i’m never coming back here again!“ you hear him groan, attempting to break away from his escort team. “never ever. never again. this is is where half of my dignity is buried. my pride. my shame. my—”

and then he freezes.

sunghoon gets frozen by an invisible force when your eyes meet, frozen but his cheeks are set ablaze. his friends did a great job in escorting him to you, encasing him and in consequence his view of his surroundings until you’re within an arm’s reach so he doesnt run away. the heat from his face thaws him back into movement, panicked and angry expressions sent to his friends and they all look pretty stupid trying to talk with just their eyebrows, but it’s cute nonetheless.

“hey!” you finally chipper in, causing sunghoon to freeze once more, creaking to meet your gaze. 

“h—hello. hi.”

sunghoon’s greeting comes out as a choke. jake and jungwon send each other signals before hurling the poor boy at you.

it’s like he’s suddenly forgotten how to skate. he can’t control his muscles, sliding over the short path at a dangerous speed that mimics his racing heart and oh shit— oh shit, oh shit. how does he stop again? how does he make a turn? how does he not fucking crash into you like a meteor being sucked into the earth’s orbit?

“oh!”

like all of his (very limited) interactions with you, sunghoon crashes and burns. it’s inevitable. but this time, he crashes and burns into you. you’re both on the concrete and his hand feels like it got crushed between the hard ground and the back of your head, but that pain quickly subsides into a numbing buzz, pumping his arteries with nectar, burning his veins with gasoline, because holy crap—

“close.”

“you’re right, that was a close call,” you breathe out. “i could’ve cracked my skull open.”

“i— i mean, close, you’re— you’re too close.”

does he realize that you can’t exactly move underneath him? he probably doesn’t, not when you can practically see the smoke emitting from his head and the panicked swirl in his eyes and you can’t help but laugh. “ah, sorry.” that was a mistake. sunghoon’s face flushes warmer and like a hammer to his skull, the realization hits and he and slowly pries himself off of you.

“sorry—”

“it’s fine.” you sit up and brush the dust off your clothes, stretching out your legs as you nudge yourself closer to him on the ground. “your friends told me you’ve been sick. are you feeling better now?”

“huh?” 

you’re not sure why he’s confused, but he looks very confused before turning his gaze to his friends. you find jay snapping out a thumbs up and sunoo’s stern face somehow reading don’t fucking blow it. he turns back to you with a lot more sweat on his neck than prior. “oh, yeah i was sick, i was so sick, ahaha—” he stammers. “a—anyway, what’s up?”

“i just wanted to see you again. it’s not everyday that i get a compliment on my shoelaces, you know?” you smile. “what about today? aren’t they prettier than the last ones?”

you wiggle your shoes to show off, laced in a complicated pattern that you’ve been practicing for the past five days, and you expect to receive another compliment for it, but sunghoon is oddly quiet. 

he’s quiet. you’re sure you chose a cool pair of shoes this morning. you’re about to be disappointed, until you notice that he’s actually thinking. he’s thinking very hard he’s thinking of something, and that something comes out of his mouth in the form of a badly timed pun.

“...what about...toe-day...”

park sunghoon only knows how to crash and burn. all his friends are a witness to that. they’re a witness to this events that transpired this afternoon, but what they didn’t expect is for you to have an affinity for disasters. you’re laughing at his dumb joke. you’re actually laughing. they’ve been shitting on sunghoon for being hopeless, but maybe there’s something wrong with you, too.

CRASH & BURN.

© hannie-dul-set, 2023.

[silentscrying]

🎸 out of my mind ! 💿 track four: a conflict of interest

guitarist!ino x drummer!reader

summary: it's the annual battle of the bands at the fix, your college campus's iconic live music bar, and this year you're taking the stage as the drummer for indie rock group cursed technique. you know the competition is strong, but no part of you is ready for lead singer and guitarist takuma ino. you lock eyes at the edge of the stage, and something starts—something that might make you feel alive even more than the beat of the drums.

warnings: language, MIDTERMS, alcohol, PTSD/trauma, panic attack, naoya, discussion of car crash (not directly described), mention of deceased parent, literal wholesome sleeping together. || sfw. 8.4k words.

YOU’VE ALWAYS LOVED fall—the sharp, cool note that tacks itself onto the breeze, the crunch of leaves beneath the wheels of your longboard, the early sunsets over the shapes of the campus skyline. Usually, a week this beautiful would find you outside enjoying it. But for the same reason that you haven’t gotten Takuma alone since Saturday, you’ve been cooped up indoors, frying your brain.

The problem is midterms.

The week is a blur of class and homework and reporting and rehearsals, and you hardly ever see Takuma, or really anyone outside of your classes and rehearsals, save for the brief comings and goings of your housemates at strange hours of the day. You’re all drowning in work, and any wish you have of talking to Takuma without the rest of his band present washes itself away in an avalanche of assignments and emails and post-it note to-do lists all over your desk.

When you see him with Megumi and Yuji and Kirara, the both of you dance around all the things you want to say. Because you have to. You don’t have time to flesh this out, put a label on it.

You and Toge spend hours wrapping up your project story. Your comp midterm is eight to nine double-spaced pages of hell, excluding citations, and on top of it you’re balancing media law case studies and your elective comparative lit class.

And this is one of your lighter semesters.

Your housemates don’t have it any easier, Yuta and Maki wrapped up in senior capstone proposals, Nobara grinding her way through the rest of her gen. eds and practicing marketing presentations in the mirror, even Toge scrambling to get work done.

Between cramming and writing and squeezing naps in wherever you can, you and Takuma orbit around the unspoken truth of your kiss on the roof, borderline flirty but never crossing that line. Not over the phone.

you: how goes the algorithming you: or whatever the fuck takuma: I’M DYING takuma: KM GOING CROSSEYED takuma: havent touched grass in days. eons even you: :( same you: we’ll touch grass when this is over takuma: if it snows i will literally dig it up for you istg

You laugh despite yourself, sighing as you lean back in your desk chair, looking out the window. God, you want to kiss this boy again. Fuck school, fuck your busy schedules. Christ, you can’t believe it’s only Wednesday.

you: aw for me takuma: anything for you🫡

It shouldn’t make you blush so furiously in the privacy of your own room, but it does.

A soft knock on the doorframe draws your attention, and you spin in your chair to find Yuta leaning there. His dark hair is a mess, like he’s just taken off a hat, and his cheeks are red with the bite of cold air. He must’ve just gotten home.

“Yuta!”

“Hey.” He grins, holds up his phone so you can see the time. “You eaten yet?” It’s a rhetorical question. You shake your head, recognizing the call to action for what it is, and close your laptop, joining him at the doorway. You need a break, anyway—you just wrapped up a draft of a paper, and you need to do something else before you look it over with fresh eyes.

“Wanna make stir fry?” you ask, and Yuta lights up.

“Read my mind.”

The kitchen is cast in gold as the sun sinks over the rooftops, and you smile at the little hello, my name is stickers on Yuta’s plants in the windowsill. As the two of you grab bowls and pans and ingredients from the fridge, you realize you haven’t really spent one-on-one time with him in a while. You’ve missed it.

“We haven’t done this in forever,” you say, tossing a green pepper over your shoulder. He catches it with one hand and puts it on the cutting board.

“I know,” he laughs, gentle in the same way that everything Yuta does is gentle, and you’re suddenly struck with the horrible thought of how much you’re going to miss him next year. “I feel like we haven’t had any one-on-one time recently. But I’ve been meaning to, uh… well, I should thank you, for giving me that time with Maki. I don’t know that I’d have made a move if not for you.”

“So you’re the one who made the move?” You grin, elbowing him fondly. “Maki wasn’t very forthcoming with the details.”

“I wouldn’t say I made the first move,” he admits. “I started making dinner, and then she started scribbling on something over by the plants. And I was so confused, and then I realized she’d bought these.” He gestures to the plant name tags, a fond smile on his face. Half the handwriting is Yuta’s loopy scrawl, and the other half is Maki’s more jagged counterpart. “She knew all their names. Which is crazy. Sometimes I barely remember.”

You move to the cutting board and start on the peppers while Yuta fires up the stovetop. “That’s sweet,” you say. “You guys are good together. I’ve only been waiting for like, an entire year.”

Yuta chuckles and looks over his shoulder at you. “I asked how she remembered all the names and she said something along the lines of did you know people actually listen when you talk, and I’ve never been particularly good at hiding my facial expressions.” You snort, because you know that better than anyone. “And then I said Toge definitely doesn’t, and she rolled her eyes and said I kept missing the point.”

“Oh, smooth.” You move over so Yuta can reach into the cabinet above you for the seasoning. “And then you asked what the point is?”

“Mhm.” Yuta hip-checks you lightly as he moves back to his place by the stove, and you relish the familiarity of it. He’s one of your best friends, and you’ve missed doing this with him, cooking with him, talking to him. “She said the point is I’m an oblivious dumbass who should just shut up and kiss her already. So I did.”

You have to put the knife down as your laugh bursts out, shaking your shoulders, because that’s the most Maki thing you’ve ever heard. “And you’re together now?”

“Mhm.” Yuta flushes a little. “She’s great. I wasn’t really gonna say anything… ever? She’s out of my league, Skip.”

It should maybe feel like a bigger deal that Maki and Yuta are finally a thing, but in a way, it’s like nothing has changed. They’ve always been close, and you’ve always known they’re perfect for each other. It felt inevitable, and now it’s happened, and it feels right.

“You’re both out of everyone’s league,” you correct, turning to lean against the counter, crossing your arms over your chest. “And neither of you think you deserve each other, which is exactly why you do.” He smiles, shy and small, and your heart warms in your chest. “I’m happy for you, Yuta.”

“Thanks.” He ducks his head a little, his tell-tale sign of embarrassment, like when Takuma scratches the back of his neck. God, why does everything remind you of Takuma?

Like he can read your mind, Yuta says, “Your turn. You and Ino? I know everyone’s in the loop except me.”

The next half hour or so passes with you explaining the details of your night with Takuma yet again, the smell of stir fry eventually drawing Toge out from the cave (his and Yuta’s bedroom) around the same time Nobara sweeps through the door with Maki in tow. It’s the first time the five of you have been in the same room outside of rehearsals all week.

“Ooh, my god,” Nobara sighs, smelling the stir fry. “That’s the good shit. I owe you my life.”

“You can do the dishes,” you suggest, and she deflates as she unwinds the scarf around her neck and tosses it on a hook with her coat.

“I’ve made a fatal mistake,” she says.

“How’re midterms?” Maki asks as she brushes past you, tossing her jacket onto a chair, and you shrug. In response, Toge puts his head face-down on the counter, and Maki looks to Yuta, waiting for his answer. It’s like they don’t know how they’re supposed to interact in front of you all, now that the whole band knows.

“You don’t have to dance around each other anymore,” Nobara points out, blunt as ever. “We’ve watched you do that for years. I honestly think I’d rather watch you be gross.”

Toge raises a brow. “Careful what you wish for.”

“Let’s break the ice! Let’s talk about it!” Nobara crows, grabbing you by the elbow. “Reenactment, Skip. You be Yuta.” She leans dramatically over the plants, pretending to write on the name tag stickers. “This one is Pikachu.” Yuta definitely does not have a plant named Pikachu. “You’re an obtuse asshole, Yuta Okkotsu,” Nobara says in a truly horrendous impression of Maki, turning around and grabbing you by the shoulders. “Now kiss me.”

“Oh my god,” Maki says flatly. “I hate you.”

“She didn’t call me an asshole!” Yuta says indignantly.

Maki nudges him with a shoulder, which is probably the closest thing to PDA you’ll get out of them for weeks. Nobara’s teasing will only make them less willing to show affection in front of the rest of you. Maybe it’s reverse psychology and that is what she wants.

“Table,” Yuta says, pointing to Toge. “Nobara, go sit in the corner and think about your actions. Maki, could you grab the plates?”

“Girlfriend privilege!” Nobara cries, not making any move to listen to Yuta. She grins at you and you can’t help but smile back. She’s being obnoxious about it, but she also held in her teasing about their relationship for ages until they figured it out on their own. You know she’s just as happy for them as you are.

“You better keep Ino away from this one,” Maki says as she dishes up the stir fry and slides the plates across the counter to Toge, who ferries them over to the table without complaint. Nobara wiggles her brows at you in a way that very obviously says you can try, but you will fail.

When the five of you crowd the little table in the makeshift dining room, it’s honestly the most relaxed you’ve felt all week. For an hour it’s just you and your best friends, talking and ranting and joking and eating some damn good stir fry, and you can forget about all the work piling up on your desk and the boy down the street you desperately need to talk to and the performance in two days that’ll decide your band’s fate. It’s good.

You grin at Nobara as she gestures with her hands while telling a story about this girl in her marketing class, at Toge trying and failing to steal the snap peas from Yuta’s plate, at Maki fondly watching it all unfold.

Despite her earlier complaints, Nobara doesn’t hesitate to get started on the dishes, and Toge dries while you sit at the stool by the counter and chat with them. Nobara shoves a plate at Toge to try and he nearly drops it onto one of the plants, earning him a look from Yuta very reminiscent of a parent scolding their child.

"Sorry, Snorlax," Toge says to the plant he nearly attacked. "Hey, these are helpful, actually. Good job, Maki."

You stare at the name tags, something starting to grow in the back of your mind. Hello! My name is...

"Yes," you breathe. And then you launch out of your seat and grab your notebook from the other room.

You have an idea.

—

You’re bouncing on the balls of your feet, spinning a drumstick in your right hand as The Cull wraps up their ten-decibels-too-loud set onstage. Waiting in the wings, Hakari and another stage tech linger by your kit, waiting to swap it out, and the rest of your band goes through their usual pre-performance rituals.

Maki leans against the wall, eyes closed, moving her fingers along her bass without making any sound. Yuta’s quietly checking his tuning for the thousandth time tonight. Nobara does laps around the backstage area, humming and mouthing words to herself, her guitar carefully leaning against the wall beside you.

Toge is straight up just dancing to the other band’s music in the corner.

And you’re here, spinning your sticks between your thumb and index finger, index and middle, middle and ring, ring and pinky, back again. Back and forth, back and forth, the worn wood dancing across your knuckles.

Midterms are over. Projects and papers are turned in, exams are taken, laptops are strewn forgotten across the living room for the weekend. All your attention is here and now, Friday at The Fix, Battle of the Bands. Lifeblood might be a good word for it, you think, whatever this kind of rush is to you. It’s electric.

The Cull finishes with a screeching of guitars and a held-out note that could very possibly be classified as a scream, and then Panda takes the stage, the techs start moving, and the other band files past you in the backstage area.

You nod as they slip by and they return the gesture, not seeming all that interested, but you don’t care. It’s time.

Sliding onto the throne, you adjust the hi-hat and pound the kick a few times. Nobara winks at you from center stage, and you make eye contact with each of your bandmates in turn, confirming they’re tuned and plugged in and ready to go.

And then you launch into your new song, unable to help the smile spreading across your face.

It begins with a drum solo, a mild rhythm on the floor tom. You add the kick, then move to hat, and Maki comes in, then Toge, then the guitars. And then Nobara leans forward and starts to sing.

“You’re in the corner watchin’, at the party, Solo cup in hand. I’m on the dance floor, one more wild girl who needs a place to land.” You glance out over the crowd, stage light blinding you from your position toward the back of the stage. You can’t see shit, but it’s like you can feel his eyes on you.

“Been goin’ solo, flying so low, meet your eyes and draw you close.” Nobara yanks the mic off the stand and belts,“You ask my name, I tap your chest, and I say you already know!”

Power chord, two big beats, one, two, three, crash—

“Hello, my name is everything you ever asked your gods about. Hello, my name is somebody who needs a guy to take me out…”

The music washes over you, thrums from the soles of your sneakers to the tips of your fingers, gets you high on spotlights and amp feedback. You wrote this song about a lot of things. On a surface level, it’s Maki and Yuta’s song, drawn from the name tags on the kitchen plants. But on another level, it’s about Takuma, and you know your whole band knows it.

“Hello, hello, my name is yours if you want it,” Nobara finishes, and you finish with two cymbal hits and a kick, grabbing the cymbals between thumb and index finger immediately after to mute them. It’s a sharper finish than a lot of your songs, punchier, and it feels good.

“We’re Cursed Technique!” Nobara shouts, and Yuta plucks a few strings as he retunes for one of your older tracks. The set goes by all too fast, and then you’re finishing with Next Fix, the beat under your hands familiar and automatic. You’re on my mind at two a.m., you help me find deliverance, I think it’s time I get my fix.

You’d stay here forever if you could, just making music with your favorite people, but your set ends and you have to retreat backstage, Black Flash passing you in the wing as they prepare to round out the night.

“That was awesome,” Kasumi Miwa whispers as she passes you, and you grin.

“You’ll be awesome.”

When Mai appears around the corner, she stops short. You glance at Maki and realize Yuta’s hand is on the small of her back, and Mai has zeroed in on it. Yuta looks like he’s about to pass out, his hand frozen a half-inch away from Maki’s back like he doesn’t know if it’s better or worse to let go, but Maki seems entirely unfazed.

Instead of addressing Maki, though, Mai looks right at Yuta, a slender brow raised in an expression you aren’t quite sure how to interpret. On Maki, it would be teasing, but on Mai it could be a challenge or a threat or a judgment just as easily.

But she only says, “Thought you were gonna take that to your grave, Okkotsu. Been long enough.” She breezes past all of you without another word, and Yuta stares at the place where she stood only moments before, slack-jawed.

Maki shrugs. “Well, that’s that.” The sound of tuning instruments floats back from the stage and Maki starts moving, looking confused when Yuta doesn’t immediately follow. “What?”

“She—what?” Yuta gapes, and Nobara and Toge catch up to you, herding you backstage.

“I can never tell how mad you two are at each other,” you tell Maki.

“We’re bonded by mutual hatred of our own family. We have an understanding,” she shrugs. “She approves of Yuta. I don’t give a shit. If she didn’t, I still wouldn’t give a shit.”

Sometimes you’re very, very glad you have no relatives at this school.

Maki elbows Yuta lightly and he seems to relax, shrugging off the interaction with Mai.

“On another note!” Nobara chirps. “That was fucking awesome.”

And then you hear, of all things, a trumpet coming from the direction of the stage. It’s a very recognizable riff.

Black Flash is covering September.

“What the fuck?” Toge asks. He holds up a hand and darts back to the wing, peeking out on stage. When he returns, his brows have shot up, mouth open like a fish. “Muta has a trumpet. Muta’s playing a trumpet. Since when does he know trumpet? What the fuck?”

“Miwa. Guaranteed,” Nobara says. “Momo’s been trying to get him to learn for years, but he wouldn’t even be in that band if Miwa wasn’t there.” She grins. “I bet Momo was so mad when he finally did it only ‘cause Miwa asked.”

“They sound straight out of a damn recording,” you murmur, craning your neck as if that’ll help you hear better. “They’re fucking good, guys.” Part of you wants to slip out into the crowd just to see them perform. These guys really have their art down to a science, as little sense as that might make, and you can’t help appreciating it.

They segue into a new song with a wild sax solo that you know to be Momo’s, and Nobara grabs you by the hand and twirls you around backstage, some jazzy movement with no real choreography. We’re going to lose, you think idly, but you understand why. There’s something infectious in this music.

Even Maki and Yuta can’t stand still once they’ve put their instruments away, and eventually the five of you are jumping around like a bunch of idiots as Black Flash closes out their set with an explosive series of riffs and chords, and the crowd’s cheering floods the place, all the way to backstage.

You hear Panda’s voice, or more so the bass-heavy sound of him speaking into a microphone, and you only really catch voting.

“Sweet democracy,” Toge says. “I pledge allegiance—”

“How about don’t?” Maki drawls.

Toge nods. “My bad. I’m supposed to be loyal to the queen now, anyway.” Maki’s brows furrow, but she must decide it’s not worth questioning, because she turns away and starts talking to Nobara.

Has anyone actually told Toge the queen is dead?

This time around, ten minutes feels all too short, and suddenly you’re on the stage again, Black Flash at your left and The Cull on their other side. Panda is in front of you all, mic in hand, the results on his phone.

“We have literally never had a vote this close,” he says, and the crowd draws in a collective breath. “The difference between first and second place was two votes.”

“Shit,” Nobara breathes out beside you, so soft nobody else could possibly hear. Two votes. That’s fucking insane.

“But we do have a winner,” Panda says, “and the band moving on to the finals next week is…”

This time, there’s too much attention on your band for Maki to make a comment about Panda’s dramatic pause. In the quiet, somebody shouts, “Woo, girl drummer!” and it sounds an awful lot like Kirara. You smile sheepishly.

Maybe you made it. This was definitely your best performance yet, and the crowd seemed to love the new song—

“Black Flash!” Panda shouts, and your stomach twists a little even as you smile and whoop for the winners. The stage explodes in movement as your band and The Cull converge on the members of the reigning Battle of the Bands champions, congratulating them.

“Amazing set,” you tell Kasumi earnestly. Deep down, you knew you didn’t have much of a chance against them. Still, you’d hoped.

You think you catch Maki muttering, “Y’know, not bad,” to Mai, but you could be wrong.

After you slip backstage, Panda catches up to you. “Y’all were second,” he tells Nobara. “Just thought you should know. That was real close.”

Part of you is immensely gratified that you beat The Cull. That you came that close to kicking Black Flash out of their championship spot. You’re bummed, but honestly? It’s enough for you.

And now Shibuya Incident and Black Flash will compete in the finals, just like last year. Takuma’s got a chance to dethrone them.

After locking up the drum kit in the back storage room (which Shoko blessedly lets you use free of charge), you head out to the floor. Toge splits off to talk to someone from a comm class, Nobara beelines for Yuji and Megumi, and you figure Maki and Yuta are being antisocial in a corner somewhere. It doesn’t take long for Takuma to find you.

“Skipper!” You turn to find him grinning at you, and you can’t help but mirror the expression. “That was amazing. That song was amazing, you were amazing. I mean, are. You are amazing.” His hand drifts up to the back of his neck, and part of you wants to reach out an intercept it, tangle your fingers in his. But you hold yourself back.

“Thanks,” you beam.

“Man. You should’ve won,” Takuma says earnestly, squeezing your shoulder. You took off your bomber jacket before the show—drumming is already a lot of movement, but the stage lights make you sweat—so his fingers skim the place where your T-shirt sleeves end and your bare skin begins, sending a spike of electricity down your spine. “You kicked their asses in my book.”

There’s that warmth again, flowering in your chest cavity. Even when his hand falls from your arm, the impression of his touch stays there.

“They were good,” you say, conceding defeat. He shrugs, like whatever you say, and you’re about to finally ask him if you can talk in private when Yuji materializes out of nowhere, nearly making you jump out of your skin.

“Dude!” he crows, slinging an arm around your shoulder so aggressively that you nearly stumble, laughing. This kid does not know his own strength. “That was so good. So good. You should’ve won. That was insane. The new song?”

“That’s what I said,” Takuma says, raising a brow at you, and you’re flushing again.

“Ino, we’re getting Taco Bell,” Yuji says. You plaster on a smile when he turns to look at you, like you haven’t been going out of your mind the entire week needing to be alone with Takuma. “You want anything?”

Yuji’s not trying to interrupt anything. Poor guy just wants Taco Bell. You stifle a sigh. “Nah, I’m good.” You catch Maki’s eye from the other side of the room, and she waves you over. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

“Hey, you should come over later,” Takuma says before you can turn away. “Gotta catch me up on your midterms. I feel like I haven’t seen you all week.”

Yes. There it is. Exactly what you need.

“That sounds great,” you say honestly. “Call me when you guys get back?”

He gives you a two-fingered salute with a grin that makes your heart stutter a little. “Yes, ma’am.”

—

Nobara mourns the loss the whole way home, but by the time Maki pulls into the driveway she seems to have gotten all her feelings out and is back to her determined we’ll-get-it-next-year self. The guys drove separately with all the guitars piled in the backseat, and they beat you home.

You’ve just sat down on the couch and kicked off your shoes when your phone buzzes, a familiar but unexpected name floating across the screen.

INCOMING CALL: TSUMIKI FUSHIGURO

You slide to accept the call, waving at the boys to quiet down. “What’s up?”

“Hey,” Tsumiki says, in that tone of voice that means she’s running on multitasking business mode. A low, static humming in the background tells you she’s calling from the car. “So, there was some kind of accident on 34th a couple blocks down from the science complex. I know you’re on features, but Yuki’s out of town and most of the freelancers are younger and haven’t done breaking yet. Are you busy? I can try the sophomores if you can’t, or I can go, but I’m just coming from work and I might take too long—”

You’re already grabbing your bag and your board, mouthing newspaper to Yuta and Toge, who are giving you curious looks as they dig through the movie collection under the TV. The intersection’s not far from your place at all, or from The Fix, for that matter. Yuki’s the news editor, and if she’s out, it makes more sense for someone who’s already done breaking to go. Time is of the essence with these sorts of briefs. “On it, don’t worry,” you say, pushing out the front door and waving to Maki and Nobara on the way. “Photog?”

“Yeah, I’m calling around after this. I’ll get someone there. God, thank you, you’re a lifesaver.”

“No problem. Call you when I’m done.” You hang up and shove your phone into your back pocket as you careen down the street, headed toward the spot Tsumiki mentioned. Now that midterms are over and you’re free of your academic obligations, you can actually take the time to savor the cool night air and crunch of freshly fallen leaves under your wheels. Hopefully the crash isn’t too bad—Tsumiki didn’t seem incredibly worried, but it’s likely she was operating on very little information.

It doesn’t take long for you to hear the commotion, and you round the corner to see a few cop cars blocking off the crash site on the side of the road.

The second you’re close enough to see past the officers and their cars, your heart plummets.

It’s a red Hyundai.

Smoke billows out from beneath the hood, but the other car’s got it worse, the passenger side smashed in. The way it’s positioned—it shouldn’t have even been possible, unless the other car was genuinely driving in the wrong lane.

“No,” you breathe, kicking your board up and running, and then you’re flashing your press card at a campus policeman—he tries to get you to stop anyway, but there’s no way he’s catching you now—and you’re sprinting to the wrecked car, heart shouting in your chest. You see Yuji first, trying to brush off a concerned-looking Megumi, and then a pair of cops approaching them, and another cop arresting someone—shit, you know him, what’s his name? Naoya, that’s Maki’s dickwad cousin—probably the driver of the other vehicle, but where’s Takuma, where—

When you skid around the far side of the car, Kirara giving you a surprised look, you see him leaning up against the tree. He’s sitting on the grass, one leg pulled up to his chest and the other stretched out in front of him, his forehead resting on his knee. His shoulders are shaking, his hat’s on the ground, Kirara is beside him talking lowly and glaring at anyone who tries to get near him—

Until she sees you.

“Thank god,” she breathes. She doesn’t ask why you’re here. She just guides you to sit down in front of Takuma. “Can you—”

“Is he hurt?”

“No, I don’t think so, he’s just—”

“Got it.”

She backs off to give you space, and then you’re on the ground, knees in the grass in front of Takuma. Panic attack, PTSD episode, whatever it is, you’ve dealt with these before. You remember the roof, his quiet voice, explaining what happened to his dad, how he was in the car, how he hates driving because of it. You’d bet anything Takuma thinks he’s back there.

“Kuma,” the nickname slips out before you even realize it. He jerks and looks up at you, shock and confusion written all over his face. He’s full-on trembling, and your heart shatters in your chest. “Hey. Hey, I need you to breathe.” You hesitantly reach out and take his hands in yours, watching him carefully to see if he tries to pull away. He doesn’t. “You’re okay. Everyone’s okay. You’re safe. Can you take a breath for me?”

He’s not fully here, you can tell, his eyes glassed over and his breath catching in his throat. You scoot closer to him, put your hands on either side of his face, blocking out the sirens and the chatter and the crowd. “Takuma,” you say. “Look at me.”

His frantic, moving stare settles on you after a long moment, and he seems to realize abruptly that he is having a panic attack. You can see the moment it clicks in his mind, that if he was twelve years old in a car crash with his father, you couldn’t be here in front of him, and now it’s up to his body to get the message across.

“Breathe,” you say again, drawing in an exaggerated breath and blowing it out slowly. “C’mon, with me. You got this.”

Takuma gasps, trying to follow your instructions as you talk him through it, counting inhales and exhales and starting over every time his breath hitches. “Doing great,” you promise. The rest of the world—the cops, a very angry Megumi pacing back and forth, Kirara speaking rapidly on the phone—might as well not exist. It’s you and Takuma and your breaths in the air between you. Nothing else matters, not right now.

All of the struggles you’ve had this week, papers and feelings and not enough sleep, feel suddenly unbelievably small.

There are things that matter in a much louder way, and this is one of them.

“Christ,” Takuma breathes out eventually, burying his head in his hands. One of the cop cars erupts with the blare of sirens momentarily before stopping again, and the sound has his shoulders tense with worry all over again.

You don’t even think about it. You just pull Takuma into you, wrapping your arms around him, like you can put the both of you in a little bubble away from everything else. “Hey, hey—”

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, and you furiously shake your head. “Just—the sirens—“

“No,” you say firmly. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Takuma.”

He shudders and you rub your hand up and down his spine. “Is the other driver…?”

“A stupid fucking drunk driving in the wrong lane?” Kirara practically spits as she rejoins you near the tree. “Yes.” The cop just took her statement and has moved on to Megumi and Yuji.

You’ve never seen Megumi this livid. He’s gesturing wildly at the other car, and you remember idly that Naoya’s his cousin too, that this is a little personal for him.

“Yeah, but is he…?” Takuma trails off.

“He’s fine,” you murmur, your heart clenching for this boy, who’s been through so much and just relived the worst day of his life and still wanted to know if the other driver was okay. Jesus. He’s too good. “Everyone’s okay.”

You pull back to hold him at arm’s length, scanning him up and down for injury, and he’s staring at you like you just fell from the sky. “Skip—I’m really glad you’re here but—why? What are you…?” His voice is a little hoarse. His gaze trails down to the press pass hanging from your neck, and he cracks a wry smile. “Y’know, when I told you write a story on me, this isn’t really what I had in mind.”

So much relief floods you at once that you think you might actually start crying. “Jesus,” you croak out, and the smile drops from his face.

“I’m okay,” he says quickly. “Just—got the wind knocked out of me, but it’s fine. Skipper—”

You lurch forward and wrap your arms around him before he can finish, needing to feel him breathing, his heart beating. You also hear his breath hitch as he winces, and you pull back in alarm. “Shit, I’m sorry, what—”

“It’s okay,” he says. “Just sore. I’m fine. Really.” He leans back against the tree. “Airbags.”

You slump back against the tree too, deflated as the limp airbags in the ruined car. “You guys okay?” you ask as the others, done with their statements, turn toward you.

“Yeah,” Kirara says, but Megumi shakes his head and points to Yuji, who’s nodding even while cradling his wrist to his chest.

“It’s fine,” Yuji insists, and Megumi looks at him, incredibly unimpressed. “Well, it’s not broken, I can move it.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s okay,” Megumi says flatly. And you look at him, his expression so familiar, and abruptly realize you’re supposed to be writing a brief.

“Shit,” you mutter, pulling out your phone. “I’m working for your sister right now. I gotta…” You point to the phone. Megumi winces but nods, and Tsumiki picks up on the first ring.

“Hey! Done already? You find Yoshino okay? He said he—”

“Uh, no,” you say sheepishly. “Actually, I—uh, okay, everyone’s fine, but Megumi’s here. If I—”

“Slow down!” Tsumiki blurts. “What? Shit. Frick. Where’s Gumi? Can you put him on the phone?”

You wordlessly hand your phone to Megumi, who’s looking more pained at the concept of talking to his sister about this than the accident itself.

A few cars pull up—a white one screeching to a stop that really should not have been going so fast in front of a bunch of police officers, and then a darker gray one that arrives smoothly after, neatly pulling up against the curb. Gojo practically launches himself out of the first car, looking around until his gaze locks on Megumi, who hangs up the phone with a quiet okay, thanks and then immediately groans upon seeing Gojo there. Nanami and Shoko get out of the second car much less dramatically and trail after Gojo to the cluster of you by the tree.

“Megumi!” Gojo calls as he jogs over. “You okay?”

“Fine,” Megumi grumbles, trying and failing to brush Gojo off. “Where’d you come from? Don’t you have work?”

“Geto and Utahime are closing down,” Gojo says with a shrug. “We heard and came as fast as we could. Figured I’d bring our resident doc. Or Nanami would, since she wouldn’t ride with me,” he says loudly so Shoko can hear. She just rolls her eyes.

Megumi tosses you your phone and says, “Forget the brief, you’re good.” You nod, pushing to your feet and offering a hand to Takuma.

“We,” Gojo says, placing one hand on Megumi’s head and the other on Yuji’s, “are going to the ER.” You expect Megumi to object, but it’s Yuji who tries to wave Gojo off. Except he tries to physically wave him off with his bad wrist and immediately grimaces. Megumi swats him on the shoulder and gives him a serious look that says we’re going, don’t argue. You figure Tsumiki will probably meet them there.

Shoko stops to talk to Kirara a short distance away, and Nanami keeps walking, making a beeline for Takuma—and by extension, you. It doesn’t escape your notice that the second he’s within range, some of the tension in Takuma’s body seems to vanish, seeping out of him and into the grass, like the tree’s roots are taking it on for him.

Nanami’s usually immaculate hair is a little disheveled, like he ran his fingers through it. Without his usual glasses on, he looks a lot less daunting, a lot more personable. The worry in his expression is well concealed but very much present.

“Ino,” he says. “What happened? Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Takuma says unconvincingly. “Fine. Just—yeah. Drunk driver, you know…” He scratches at the back of his neck, and this time you don’t check yourself. You reach up and grab his hand, slotting your fingers between his. He shoots you a grateful look before turning back to Nanami. “I’m okay. Really. Thanks for… um…”

“Of course,” Nanami says before Takuma can say anything more. You release his hand so he can step forward. You’ve never seen Nanami hug anyone before, but apparently there’s a first time for everything.

“You’re not going with Gojo?” he asks when he pulls back, hands planted on Takuma’s shoulders. It feels very paternal. You’re not sure you should be listening in.

“Nah, I’m okay.”

“I’d feel a lot better if you got checked over,” he says, his voice firm but not unkind. “Would you let Shoko look at you, at least?” You’re relieved when Takuma nods, letting Shoko pull him away.

Gojo leads Yuji and Megumi past you, back to his car, and Yuji stops to whisper, “Never fear, Skip, the drum set was not in the car.”

“Oh my god,” you say. “Yuji. I’m more worried about you than the drums.”

“Aw, Skip!” he says happily. “That’s nice.” You roll your eyes but can’t keep the fond smile off your face, and you know Megumi’s probably doing the same thing, though you can only see the back of his head as he follows Gojo. Yuji bounds off after them, still cradling his wrist to his chest but seeming very unconcerned about the whole ordeal.

Yet another screech of tires alerts you to a truck appearing from the other end of the street. Hakari doesn’t even bother to shut it off, jumping out and leaving the door hanging open.

“Kira!” he shouts, pushing past the remaining officers. “Kirara!”

“Over here!” Kirara calls, thanking Shoko and weaving around the slowly diminishing crowd. Someone’s already showed up to tow Naoya’s car, and another truck probably isn’t far behind. Kirara gets swept up in Hakari’s arms, her trying to reassure him she’s fine, and you find yourself left alone with Nanami. He studies you openly, keen eyes and a calm, very slight smile on his face.

“I don’t think we’ve met, officially,” you say sheepishly. “I’m Skipper.”

“Kento,” he says, holding out a hand. You shake it and feel abruptly like you’re talking to a business executive. As Shoko looks Takuma over on the other side of the big tree, Nanami—Kento—lowers his voice a bit and says, “Ino’s told me all about you.”

The heat rises unbidden to your cheeks, and you hope the evening dimness hides it. He talks about you? To Nanami? You aren’t really sure how to respond to that, but luckily, Kento spares you the trouble. “Look out for him tonight, will you?” You can tell from the tone that he’s testing the waters, trying to determine how much you know about his dad.

Hopefully the message gets across when your gaze drifts back to Takuma over Kento’s shoulder and you say, “I plan on it.”

“He’s alright,” Shoko announces, and Takuma appears at your side again. “Nothing a good night’s sleep won’t fix.” Something loosens in your chest at the words, something that tied itself into knots the second you saw Yuji’s car and hasn’t let up since.

“Hey,” Hakari calls, he and Kirara approaching hand in hand. “You guys good?”

Takuma nods, and you shrug. “Wasn’t in the car.”

“We’re gonna head back to Kirara’s. You want a lift?”

Takuma glances at Kento, and you feel the truth of his words that day on the roof, about Nanami being the closest thing he has to a father.

“Go home, kid,” he says. “Sleep it off. Call me if you need anything.”

“Thanks,” Takuma says, like a breath of relief. He looks exhausted. But he’s here in one piece, and that’s what matters. Your fingers brush his as you walk back to Hakari’s truck. It’s a quiet ride, a short one, your board on your lap and your press pass still dangling from your neck.

“Oh, Skipper,” Hakari says when he turns onto your street. “Your house over here? Or are you coming to theirs?”

You glance at Takuma, but before either of you can say anything, Kirara says, “She’s comin’ over.” She catches your gaze in the rearview mirror with a knowing look and you manage a weak smile. You can’t imagine letting Takuma out of your sight right now, honestly.

The dogs are there the second Kirara opens the door, and Takuma practically falls into them, burying his face in their fur as they nuzzle up against him. Shiro turns to you after saying hi to the others and noses at your palm until you scratch her behind the ears.

“Hi, sweetie,” you murmur. “Good girl.”

Kirara nudges you with her shoulder as she brushes by, glancing down at Takuma and then back at you. You nod. I got him. She offers you a small smile before she and Hakari disappear around the corner.

“C’mon,” you murmur, tapping Takuma on the shoulder. He nods, pushing to his feet and patting each dog on the head one more time. You follow him upstairs, feeling a little out of your depth. After all, he’s not the one who decided you were staying.

When you’re both standing in his room, you shift on your feet a little, wondering how to word it. “If you want some space—”

“No,” he blurts, unexpectedly loud, and then his cheeks go a little red, sheepish. “I mean—uh. I could… use the company. If you don’t mind. You don’t have to stay, obviously, just—”

“Kuma.” You laugh a little, watching him freeze, glance up at you mid-ramble. “I would love to stay.”

“Oh.” He grins. “Cool. Okay. Um.” He turns around and grabs a pair of sweats and a tee from his dresser, then holds them out to you. “If you want…? Or I can ask Kirara, I’m sure she’d let you borrow something, or obviously you live right down the street or—”

Something about the idea of wearing his clothes makes you go a little warm all over, and you accept them without hesitating, cutting off his rambling. “Thanks.”

“I’m gonna…” He jerks his thumb toward the door. You don’t know if he’s just giving you the space to change or going to shower or what, but you nod, waiting until the door clicks shut behind him to tug on the sweats and shirt. The shirt is huge on you, one shoulder sliding off, a fading logo of some music festival on the front. You sit on the edge of Takuma’s bed, tucking your knees under you, and then your phone rings. Tsumiki.

“Hey,” you say, pressing it to your ear. “They’re okay?”

“Yeah, Yuji sprained his wrist but nothing else. Pretty minor, all things considered,” she reports. “They’re on their way back to the house.”

“Good,” you breathe, the relief evident in your voice. “Thanks. Do you… are you sure about the brief?”

Tsumiki chuckles. “Hey, not your job to worry about the press tonight.”

“I can still try to… write it,” you say half-heartedly, dreading the thought of it. “I mean, I saw the scene and…”

“Don’t even worry about it. Genuinely,” she says. “You and I both know that’s a conflict of interest.” You huff a weak laugh. What an understatement. “More importantly, you sound exhausted and I’m sure that whole thing stressed you out. Listen, the photog I had on it wanted to break into writing anyway. No time like the present.”

You immediately feel even worse, because your photographer was probably looking for you at the scene and you just left him hanging.

“Stop,” Tsumiki says, like she can read your mind through the phone. “He handled it well. It’s fine, Skipper. Get some rest.”

“Thanks,” you murmur, but she’s already gone. You shoot a quick text to the group chat explaining what happened, that everyone’s fine, and that you probably won’t be home tonight. Takuma doesn’t want to be alone, and honestly, you don’t know if you could leave him if you tried.

It doesn’t take long for the texts to start pouring in.

utah: let us know if any of you need anything!! maki: keep us posted and tell megumi to answer his dumb phone nobara: WHAT nobara: OH MY GOD???? nobara: well i’m glad everyone’s okay nobara: christ freak no. 1: alsjkfq qEQht

You frown at the keysmash, wondering if Toge dropped his phone or actually just doesn’t know how to communicate like a normal person.

you: ??? freak no. 1: sorry SOMEONE TOOK MY PHONE,,,, utah: because SOMEONE DOESN’T KNOW WHEN IT’S AN APPROPRIATE TIME TO SEND MEMES, TOGE maki: nvm he picked up maki: go to sleep, skipper, we can talk tomorrow

Toge texts you privately thirty seconds later. It’s the meme of Gru laying out his evil plan and then realizing it’s a horrible idea. The first frame says answer the phone, the second says get the breaking news like a baddie journalist, and the last frames say realize you know everyone at the scene of the crime. You laugh out loud. Toge knows you. He knows you needed this. He wouldn’t have sent it if he didn’t think it’d cheer you up.

A half-second later, another image comes in, but it’s just a picture of Nobara with her hands clasped together in front of her mouth, speechless and absolutely thrilled. The full image shows her swooning over a little puppy, but you long ago cropped it and started using it as a reaction image in your chats.

freak no. 1: me when ur okay :)

“Aw,” you murmur. Toge can be sweet sometimes. You start texting back, but then another message comes in and you backspace immediately.

freak no. 1: me when ur spending the night with your boyfie :) you: i was gonna say thanks but then you kept going freak no. 1: me when she texts back :) you: goodnIGHT TOGE freak no. 1: me when she goodnight texts :)

Takuma knocks softly on the door before cracking it open, waiting for you to give him the green light before coming in. He’s changed into his own pair of sweats, and his hair is ruffled and wild around his face. “Hey.”

“Hi.” You toss your phone on the bedside table and scoot over to make room. “You okay?”

He sits cross-legged on the bed, and you turn to face him. “Think so,” he says. “Just… felt like I was back there for a minute.” His eyes go distant just for a moment, and your heart twists in your chest. You scoot forward, knees bumping against his.

“Glad you’re okay,” you murmur, and it doesn’t feel like enough, but he gives you that soft, open look that makes you feel like you could say anything at all and he’d treasure it.

“Glad it was you and not some rando reporter.”

You grin, holding a fist out to Takuma like it’s a microphone. “How do you rate Skipper’s hug on a scale of one to ten?”

He leans forward, playing along. “Uh, you know, it was so long ago I might not have a really accurate rating. I would have to probably hug her again—”

You don’t let him finish, surging forward and wrapping your arms around him, tackling him down onto the bed in a fit of laughter. Caught off-guard, he has no defense, and after a startled moment his arms snake around your waist, and you lie there, looking at each other with barely-restrained grins.

“Well, that one was pretty good,” he murmurs. “Nine, I think.”

You gape at him. “Nine?”

Another smile dances across his lips, and you suddenly really want to kiss him.

“Guess you’ll just have to keep trying.” He shrugs innocently, and then tries and fails to stifle a yawn, which makes you yawn in turn. It’s late, night having draped itself over the city hours ago, and the effects of barely snatching hours of sleep all week are finally creeping up on you, weighing you down.

“Go to sleep,” you tell Takuma, grabbing a blanket from where it’s been wedged between the bed and the wall and shoving it toward him.

“You go to sleep.”

“Bossy.”

But he shakes the blanket out and lets it fall over both of you, trapping your warmth beneath it, and sleep feels very, very appealing.

You think about the paralyzing, all-consuming fear that took hold of you when you saw the car. The thought of anything happening to him—you actually can’t even fathom it. And you think about what that means, and that you’ve only known this boy for a month, but you feel like your heart beats on the same channel as his.

Geto’s words play themselves over and over in your head, Maki’s mixing themselves in until you have a chorus of phrases bouncing around like pinballs.

Your heart is not a finite thing.

You already know.

The question isn’t if he likes you, or if you like him. It’s whether you’re gonna let it play out or shut it down before it has a chance to.

If you’ve got something, love it while you have it.

Geto was right. You don’t know how long you’ll have this for, have him for. But you better make the most of it while you do.

But Takuma’s eyes are already closing, his arm slung over your waist, seeking your warmth, your comfort. He looks exhausted, shaken. These aren’t conversations for tonight. Tonight, you just hold him, and feel his breath against your neck, and revel in the fact that he’s okay.

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jjk taglist open: just send me a message!

@shutuppeter @mikikkoo @reactwithjan @theclassbookworm @lilactaro @bisforbuse @risararelywrites @idkidk32 @gojodickbig @stargazing-with-choso @anonymity-222

a/n: SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG, TEAM. i've fallen into another anime hyperfixation (blue lock) and it's killing me slowly. one part left of this fic !!

[turrondeluxe]

I've always been a true believer of medic mikey and I've been thinking a lot of 2012 medic mikey today

so here's a bunch of thoughts about it from my twt if it feels weirdly paced and chopped it's because i just copy and pasted from different posts

Mikey probably started with the want of learning more about medicine after leo ends up in a coma.

Kind of like a brutal awakening that his older brothers are not invincible

until that point he probably helped both donnie and leo with basic first aid, since in 2012, the brothers all seem to know some sort of basic medical knowledge to a certain point (raph carries a first aid with him in half shell heroes meaning they all probably have their own).

Mikey probably sees leo burdened with his father's shadow and the weight of being the leader and letting everyone down, raph so worried about them at all times and so angry at himself for not being able to protect his family better, donnie mostly always stressed out. with no sleep. always having to FIX something and all this probably make mikey realize that putting being a medic on top of any of his brothers would just be for the worst so he decides to take it into himself to specialize in that part.

Mikey would ask help for getting more information to study about medicine and turtle health veterinary from both donnie and april (april would love to help +she can get more physical aid like books from libraries and such while donnie is the one brother who doesn't actually mind what mikey asks him and also actually answers his questions with facts). While studying he most probably would forget a lot about the scientific or actual names for different things so he would just make up his own designations because that way it makes sense to him (his brothers would all learn later on about mikey's own system perhaps because it's just them and it's not like mikey is going to go work at a hospital so it doesn't really affect them much).

Being the group medic just would fit him so well because hes very smart and not squeamish about A LOT of things in comparison to his brothers (throwback to when donnie did said he was actually squeamish in the show) so donnie probably would also encourage him in his studies and even try to help him to retain info with different methods that actually work with Mikey (because of adhd brain) like making references to his favorite show or comics while learning medical info to make it easier for him to focus.

The fact that mikey is the most perceptive of his brothers and also the one to keep a cool head when all of the other ones are losing it, would be factors that help him while being the medic as well.

Mikey being the smallest one and fastest of his brothers so hes probably the only one who could make it to any of them in record time if needed be.

I feel like, since 2012 mikey is the one brother who uses his skateboard the most, he probably would start bringing his skate strapped to his shell everywhere because he can use it as an emergency medical stretcher to move his brothers around in the case he was not able to carry them around physically

maybe even begging leo for a longboard later on because they are bigger which, again, could help him in emergency situations.

Thinking also on how leo probably didn't really talk much about the healing hands technique with his brothers so mikey probably unlocked the healing hands in his own way and in a really high stress situation where the sheer willing force was just wanting to help his family.

Mikey would definitely sing staying alive while giving cpr: muttering the lyrics along in a frenetic way while punching his brother's chest, because of their plastrons, and trying to get him to breath again all while listening his other brothers yells be deafened by the sound of lasers pass by over their heads.

And after being home and safe, he'd give everyone those lollipops right after quickly making sure none of them are dealing with a concussion (he is but hes fine, he promises).

Extra: some replies in twt that i also wanted to share here

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Modern M6 as different types of skaters? Skateboard, roller skates, longboard, etc.?

The Arcana Mini-HCs: M6 skating/skateboarding

Julian: he'll try anything but only if he's fully kitted out in elbow pads, knee pads, hand protectors, and a helmet. wobbles the whole time

Asra: skateboard. likes cruising around different neighborhoods on it to explore and is better at parkour/skateboard tricks than he lets on

Nadia: none that involve wheels. she dabbled in figure skating as a teen, though, and is very elegant and smooth whenever she does it

Muriel: longboard. except he doesn't like using it on hills because that's too fast. sometimes cruises around bike paths with Asra

Portia: classic roller skates. always brings Julian along to the rink for weekend events, half to bond with him and half to make fun of him

Lucio: roller blades. did go through a "hot cheeto" phase with flames painted on the side and sunglasses and unbuttoned shirts indoors

[joeys-babe]

Joey B Imagines: The Best of My Love

————————————————————————-

Summary: A sweet Valentine's Day surprise trip from your boyfriend Joe turns into one of the most important days of your life.

(Part one to - Part 2)

Warnings: pure sickening fluff

Pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

—————————��——————————————-

February 13th, 2024

(y/n’s pov)

Waking up on the day before Valentine’s Day alone in bed is never fun, especially when it's just 4 days after Joe and I’s 7th anniversary as a couple. The reason the day before was special was that Joe and I were celebrating today, Joe said he was super busy tomorrow with foundation stuff and we needed to celebrate today.

Joe had already told me last night that he was still going to work out this morning but instead would opt for our home gym. Still, the last thing I'd want to do is bother him.

Spending the alone time wisely, I didn't stay in bed too long and took a relaxing shower. Afterward, I did my normal skincare routine and put some light makeup on.

Once that was finished the next step was slicking my hair back into a tight bun and getting dressed.

As of right now, Joe and I don't have plans to leave the house so I put some leggings on and grabbed my favorite one of Joe’s sweatshirts, and put it on.

It was his pink Nike sweatshirt that was my favorite one ever since I hugged him when he wore it for the first time. It was so soft so I've been stealing it out of his laundry since.

After brushing my teeth and making the bed, I went downstairs to make breakfast.

To my surprise, when I walked into the kitchen there was already a whole spread of breakfast foods on a longboard charcuterie-style.

My heart warmed as I looked at the collection of baked goods, savories, and different juices.

When I picked up a blueberry muffin there was a white envelope underneath it.

I put it down for a second to quickly pour a glass of pink lemonade.

Picking it up to read the front a smile spread on my lips when it said “Joe” with a little heart.

I quickly opened the envelope and pulled the small note card out.

Happy Valentine's, Baby!

I'm probably still working out as you're reading this (gotta have big muscles to fight off guys that hit on you). But anyway… how'd I know that you were going to get a blueberry muffin out of all that food I put out?? I'll tell ya. It's because I know you like the back of my hand. I'm gonna guess right now that you're going to pick strawberry lemonade out of all of the drinks I put out.

This isn't the first little surprise either, I've got lots of things up my sleeves and in my pockets to make today the best Valentine's Day ever.

The best of my love, Joey

The little note had me smiling from ear to ear and I was so deep in a trance that I didn't hear Joe behind me. I jumped when two strong arms wrapped around my waist from behind but the familiar laugh coming from behind put me immediately at ease.

“Startle ya?” - Joe

“My gosh, Joe! Yes!” - you

I turned around in his arms and placed my hands on his chest, looking up into his gorgeous blue eyes.

“Did I guess right?” - Joe smiled

Nodding my head in the direction of my muffin and glass of pink lemonade I grinned as Joe’s cheeks deepened a shade of red.

“You know me so well.” - you

“Well, I hope that I know you a little bit after seven years together.” - Joe laughed

“Seven years is a long time…” - you

“It is, isn't it? Does it ever surprise you that we have lasted this long?” - Joe

“Oh gosh no. You're my best friend, can't live without you. Does it ever surprise you?” - you

“No. The rest of my life is with you.” - Joe grinned

I jokingly scoffed and Joe’s face turned to confusion.

“Not officially, last time I checked my left hand was empty.” - you held your bare left hand in front of his face

Joe’s lips formed a straight line as he glared at me. His facial expression made me giggle before I leaned in to kiss is soft lips.

“I’m kidding, Joe. You know I seriously don't care if and when it happens.” - you

“If?! What do you mean if it happens?! It's sure as hell going to happen, I don't care if it's the last thing I do. Who knows, it might be happening sooner than you think.” - Joe

“You said that last Valentine’s.” - you laughed

“Oh, whatever. I have to go shower but expect another surprise in a few minutes.” - Joe

“Ok…” - you

Joe kissed my cheek and unwrapped his arms from me. I couldn't help but watch him walk away because of how borderline delicious he looked wearing his cut-off Nike top with shorts.

Just as Joe was out of my sight the doorbell rang. Woah he wasn't joking, I thought.

I immediately walked to the door and thanked the delivery man after he handed me the substantial bouquet of beautiful red roses.

There was a vase that was my go-to for when Joe got me flowers but after a quick analysis, I came to the realization that there was no way they would all fit.

After placing them on the counter I was examining the huge arrangement when I realized there was yet again another small white envelope.

What it said was short but so sweet, making my heart swell even more.

For our one-month anniversary a few weeks short of seven years ago, I gave you a singular red rose. Here’s eighty-four roses for every month you've been my girl.

The best of my love, Joe

He must be in a sentimental nostalgic mood this Valentine's because though Joe is secretly a raging romantic, I've never seen him go to such great lengths as this.

When I went to put the card back in its stand, it fell and I realized there was writing on the back as well.

P.S. Go get my card from my wallet, a new nail set on me. There's a surprise waiting for you there, and maybe a few more afterward…

What is this man up to??

I went upstairs, and grabbed Joe’s card before grabbing my purse, putting shoes on, and heading to my favorite nail salon.

When I arrived the front desk lady offered me a warm smile and I sent one right back.

“Miss y/n! We've been expecting you. Go ahead and head back.” - Lady

“I don't have to pick a color?” - you

“Your boyfriend prepicked a color, nail type, and everything. You're all set!” - Lady

“Oh okay! Thanks!” - you

As soon as I walked over to my go-to station I noticed a familiar face already sitting there.

“Aubrey?!” - you

“Hey girl!” - Aubrey jumped up

Aubrey was my roommate at Ohio State and has been my best friend ever since. She had moved to California after college to pursue her career as a doctor.

“What are you doing in Cincinnati?” - you hugged her

“Mmm, a certain someone invited me down here…” - Aubrey smiled

“Joe?” - you smiled, immediately thinking about Joe’s letter on your roses

“Maybe.” - Aubrey smirked

“What is he up to?! Do you know? He's been acting so… romantic today.” - you laughed

“Hard to tell. I don't know what he's up to, but he has a nail request that he's also paying for so let's get down to business.” - Aubrey

——

A couple of hours later I had nice oval French tips and Aubrey got solid sage green coffin nails.

We went up to the counter and I handed the lady Joe’s card. She smiled up at me and gave me a wink.

“Your boy has taste.” - Lady

“That he does.” - you giggled and looked at your nails

She laughed as she handed me the card back but she held up a finger telling me to wait. I watched the woman reach under the counter to retrieve yet another white envelope.

When she handed it to me I couldn't help but gasp and quickly rip it open to see what was inside. It was a note and read…

Go down to Kroger with Aubs and get your favorite road trip snacks… you'll need it. ;)

I hope you like your nails, I tried my best to explain what I wanted.

The best of my love, Joe.

Aubrey was reading the note along with me over my shoulder and when we were both done we looked at each other with wide eyes.

You didn't know of course, but Aubrey has known Joe’s plan for weeks so she knew this was happening.

“Aubrey what the heck is he doing?! - you

She just shrugged so I thanked the front desk lady and practically sprinted to the car with Aubrey.

“I’m so confused.” - you

“I know just as much as you, let's get to the store to get your snacks though.” - Aubrey

——

I tried to make the Kroger trip as quick as possible because all I wanted was to get back home to Joe and find out what was going on.

Aubrey asked me to drop her off at the hotel she was staying at since she got an Uber to the nail salon.

After dropping her off, I headed straight for home.

“Joe!” - you called out as you made it through the front door

“Upstairs!” - Joe

I practically ran up the stairs and into our bedroom.

When I did, my heart stopped when my eyes scanned the room.

There were probably over 30 heart-shaped balloons that had floated up to the ceiling and multiple huge bags sitting on our made bed.

Joe was standing to the side of the room looking incredibly cute in his usual sweatpants and t-shirt combo while he wore a bashful grin.

“What is all of this?” - you

“Just another step in my master plan of putting this year's Valentine's Day down in history.” - Joe

I walked up to him and immediately pulled him into my embrace, my head on his built chest as we rubbed each other's backs.

“What are you up to Mr?” - you smiled

“You’ll see. Open your gifts!” - Joe grinned

Walking over to sit on the bench in front of the bed, Joe handed me the first gift bag.

We grinned at each other as I pulled the tissue paper out of the bag. It revealed a shoe box that said “UGG” and I immediately gasped.

They were the Tasman’s that I had been wanting for a while. I had briefly mentioned them when another WAG had them on and I complimented them, turns out Joe was paying attention.

“Thank you! They're so cute.” - you

“You’ll be needing them later today, you know something comfy. And speaking of comfy…” - Joe handed you another bag

I removed the tissue paper and a cute sweat set was revealed.

“Pastel orange, Joe?” - you giggled

“Orange looks good on you!” - Joe

“You’ve said that multiple times, honey.” - you

Joe just smiled at me and took the empty bags off the bed to put them in a pile by the door. He also grabbed the UGG box and sweat set to neatly stack them on the bench in front of the bed.

“Why are you waiting? Open your last gifts, baby!” - Joe

“I’m waiting for you Mr. to tell me which one to open!” - you

“This one.” - Joe grabbed a bag and handed it to you

I reached down into the bag and my fingertips brushed against a smaller box. Giving Joe a skeptical look, he returned my look with a sweet smile.

When I finally looked down inside my heart stopped when I noticed the familiar Cartier packaging.

“Joe… what did you do? This was probably so expensive.” - you

“Stop that, I love spending my money to spoil you. You know that. Just open it.” - Joe

His gaze was convincing so I took the box into my hands and flicked the lid off.

They were the most gorgeous earrings I'd ever seen. The White Gold, Diamond LOVE earrings.

“Joe… they're beautiful.” - you

“Yeah? Do you like ‘em? They're the matching earrings to the bracelet I got you for Christmas. I've had ‘em since them but I didn't give them to you at the same time to avoid ‘you spend too much on me’ speech.” - Joe

“If you keep it up with the white gold and diamonds Imma be more shiesty than you.” - you giggled

“That’s 100% my plan. Gotta keep my girl iced out.” - Joe grinned

I walked forward and immediately wrapped my arms around my boyfriend.

“I love you so much. Thank you so much for everything.” - you kissed his lips

“Aye not so fast. You've got one more gift.” - Joe

Joe unwrapped one of his arms from my waist and reached into the final gift bag. He pulled out a white envelope and smiled brightly when he handed it to me.

“Saved the best for last.” - Joe

“Better than those earrings?! Did you get me a puppy??” - you

“No! No puppy.” - Joe laughed

I backed away from him to open it and my mouth dropped open when I pulled out two plane tickets.

“Where are we going??” - you

“Read the tickets.” - Joe

My eyes frantically searched the tickets and I slapped Joe’s arm out of pure excitment when the destination of my dream getaway was printed on the sheet of paper.

“Shut up! I’m going to Portofino?!” - you yelled

“You’re going to Portofino, Italy!” - Joe

I practically lept at Joe and wrapped my legs around his waist, my arms around his neck.

“Thank you! Thank you!” - you yelled into his neck

A thought popped into my mind that made my heart sink and I pulled away from Joe’s neck to confirm or deny my disappointing thought.

“Wait… you're going with me, right?” - you

“Yes, baby. I'm going with you.” - Joe laughed

“Yay! My dream vacay with my favorite person ever.” - you smiled

“Are you excited?” - Joe

“Am I excited?! Joe, I'm ecstatic! I've been dreaming about going there since I was in high school. I can't wait to mark this one off my bucket list… especially with you.” - you

“Good. I'm happy to be there with you.” - Joe

——

“Do you have everything packed??” - Joe

“Yup!” - you

I rolled my suitcase out of the closet and into our bedroom where Joe was sitting on the bed waiting.

“I was going to pack everything for you… but I realized I can't pack everything you need, cause I have no idea.” - Joe

Laughing at him as I wheeled the suitcase to him, I quickly came up with a response.

“You can't pack it but you can use those muscles to carry it to the car.” - you winked

Joe grinned as he flexed his arms, I had to hype him up and it never failed to surprise me with how deep the blush went.

He left the room shortly after to take my suitcase down to the car and I did a final walkthrough of the house to make sure all lights were off, we had everything we needed, and nothing was left running.

When I finally got outside the site of Joe headbanging slowly while biting his lip through the front glass of the car made me internally giggle as I rounded the side and plopped in the front passenger seat.

“Do we have to listen to Kid Cudi?” - you

“I thought you liked him?” - Joe

“I do. But we listen to him all of the time.” - you

“Fine. You pick.” - Joe sighed and handed you his phone to play a song on Spotify.

Naturally, I pulled up my go-to playlist and shuffled it. The first song that played was Nat King Cole’s “L-0-V-E”.

I of course was yelling along the lyrics while Joe just shook his head with a playful grin.

“This song is boring.” - Joe

“You think so? It reminds me of us.” - you

“Why? Because it's boring? Are you calling us boring?” - Joe

“No, you goofball. Because it says ‘love was made for me and you’ and I think that it was.” - you

“I think it was too.” - Joe grinned and laced your fingers with his

——

“Was that whole playlist just old love songs? Or are you in a vintage gushy mood?” - Joe

I thought back to the songs that had played previously…

Can’t Take My Eyes off You by Frankie Valli, Everybody Loves Somebody by Dean Martin, Everlasting Love by Natalie Cole…

“Uhm… yes.” - you

“Yes, to which one, baby?” - Joe laughed

“Both!” - you

“Did I put you In a gushy love song mood?” - Joe

“Yeah… maybe you did. You've been so romantic today.” - you

Joe grinned at me while he squeezed my hand and the next time we were at a red light he leaned over to kiss me.

“I have a feeling that every trip we take from here on out isn't going to top this.” - Joe

“I already know they're not! I'm so excited. Thank you so much, Joe.” - you

“You’re so welcome, but just wait till you see what I have planned throughout the trip.” - Joe

“Ok, I still can't believe you planned a whole International trip with your homebody ways, Joseph Lee.” - you

“I didn't do it by myself. I got help from a lot of people. My mom helped, Aubrey, some guys on the team, your parents, and maybe or maybe not the team’s travel advisor.” - Joe

“Baby, that's so sweet.” - you

“It needs to be perfect…” - Joe sighed

“I think it will be. Can I ask you something?” - you

“Yup.” - Joe

“Why’d you get my nails done?” - you

“Uhm… because we're probably going to take pictures and you had said multiple times your old set was busted. Thought you might want to get new ones.” - Joe

I reached over and put my hand on Joe’s arm, lightly scratching his skin with my nails while I smiled brightly at him.

“I love you.” - you

“I love you too, babe.” - Joe

——

We arrived at the airport and to my confusion someone was there to escort us. The tall male with a bodyguard build led us through an area adjacent from the regular airport and before I knew it Joe and I were standing in front of a jet.

“What did you do?!” - you

“Wanna fly in a private jet?” - Joe grinned

After we handed our bags and suitcases to part of the crew, I was standing there astounded so Joe took my hand and guided me up the steps.

“This is incredible… how much did this cost to fly us there?” - you frowned slightly

“My love, money is not something we have to worry about.” - Joe winked with a cocky grin on his lips

I had changed into my sweat set, UGGs, and put my new earrings in before we left the house and I swore sometimes I would catch Joe’s eyes lingering to the substantial diamonds on my ears.

Eventually, we made it inside the jet and it was even nicer inside than it was outside. The lighting was warm and the leather seats were astonishing.

“You like it?” - Joe

“I love it, and I love you.” - you pecked Joe’s cheek

Joe put a hand on the small of my back and gently moved me in the direction of a chair.

After sitting down, Joe took his spot across from me, a table in between us and I propped my feet up on his lap.

He slipped my UGGs off and gently put them on the floor before he started massaging my feet.

It was the little things that Joe did that made me praise him for being the best boyfriend ever, and he never failed to hold himself to that title.

“You comfy?” - Joe

“Very.” - you smiled

“We have a long ride ahead of us so hopefully we can take a nap at some point.” - Joe

I nodded and the flight attendant walked over to us to explain a few things. Due to the fact Joe is an avid hater of PDA I was expecting Joe to drop my foot when she walked over, but he didn't. He listened to her intently as he continued rubbing small comforting circles on my foot.

Joe had a few questions about the lunch and dinner menu but eventually, she walked away.

“You have absolutely spoiled me today, I don't know how it can get much better.” - you

“Just you wait.” - Joe winked

——

February 14th, 2024 - *Actual* Valentine's Day

When we finally arrived in Portofino it was early morning the next day, Joe and I were pretty exhausted.

Despite being jet-lagged and tired, the drive to the Airbnb was absolutely beautiful.

The different colored buildings and the water were some of the most breathtaking sites I'd ever laid eyes on. I had to look back at Joe who was sitting next to me in the back of the car just to verify he could see it too.

“It's beautiful…” - you

“It is, isn't it?” - Joe smiled

He was so in love with you, so obsessed with pleasing you that he’d do anything just to see that twinkle in your eye when you see something you love. When you looked back at him he saw that twinkle and he hoped that it wasn't just coming from the gorgeous surroundings, but also because of him.

You were still looking out of the car window but suddenly he felt a hand on his thigh. When he looked down he saw your fingers making grabby motions and when he laced his fingers with yours, they were at ease. Even with the view in front of you, you still reached for him behind.

The Airbnb was even more breathtaking. Joe, in the most broken Italian accent I'd ever heard, told me it was called the Baia degli Ulivi.

It was a pretty pink color with forest green shutters and a beautiful balcony view.

Joe and I sat our bags down when we got inside because he said he wanted to show me around.

I could tell that Joe was proud of himself for picking such a ravishing place for us to stay.

He was so adorable as he walked around the house and pointed out little things he liked on the Airbnb app when he looked at pictures.

My favorite part was when he was super proud to show me the bathroom because…

“It has a fucking bidet!” - Joe pointed

He was looking equal parts intrigued and proud but I couldn't help but bust out laughing at his exclamation.

“There’s my goofy boy. You've been so romantic the past two days that I've kinda missed the goober side of you.” - you

“Trust me, it’s never gone sometimes it just gets overpowered by another side of me.” - Joe grinned

“C’mon Joey, let’s go take a nap.” - you

——

A few hours later, meaning like six, we woke up at one o'clock and decided to venture out of the house.

Joe had an itinerary on his phone that he pulled up while we were still lying in bed cuddling.

“Wanna go to a castle?” - Joe

“A Castle?! Yes!” - you

“Okay, we can get dressed and go to the Castello Brown before we head to lunch.” - Joe

“Is that the name of it?” - you

“Mhm.” - Joe nodded

“I can't believe I'm here with you right now. This is my dream come true, Joe. Thank you for everything, you're the best boyfriend a girl could ask for.” - you

“I love you.” - Joe kissed your forehead

——

Soon we were walking through the castle grounds hand in hand.

There was this one particular painting that I walked away from Joe to take a picture of, and when I turned around I was met with the sight of Joe holding his phone up taking a picture of me. He never fails to make me feel like the most loved woman on that planet.

We continued walking to the top where there was a beautiful view of the water. Our hands were laced together as I laid my head on Joe’s shoulder, and he laid his against mine.

The moment was amazing, everything just felt so surreal and magical. After everything Joe went through with football last season and all of the obstacles we've faced, it felt like they all disappeared.

I was so focused on Joe and the view that I flinched when there was a tap on my shoulder. When I turned around it was an older woman and what seemed to be her husband standing next to her.

“Sorry to bother but you two are just so adorable and remind me of my husband and I when we were young. I took a nice picture of you guys, do you want it?” - Lady

She showed Joe and me the picture and we both looked at each other with a large grin. You could see the love radiating off of us.

“Yes! Here I'll give you my number. I'm y/n and this is my boyfriend Joe.” - you smiled

“I’m Linda and this is my husband Ben. How long have you guys been together?” - Linda

“Seven years.” - you answered

“Wow, that's a long time! We've been together for 35. We got together as 15-year-olds in high school.” - Linda

“That’s so sweet. What are you guys doing in Italy?” - you

“Revisiting the place we got engaged for Valentine's Day. What about you two young’un’s?” - Linda

“Aww. This is my dream vacation place so Joe surprised me for Valentine’s Day.” - you

“That’s a good man you have.” - Ben nodded

“I know. He's my best friend.” - you grinned at Joe

We talked to Linda and Ben for a little longer before I offered to take a picture of them just like Linda had done with me and Joe.

They agreed and posed with smiles plastered on their faces.

Linda and I exchanged pictures before we parted ways and Joe and I went to lunch.

It was a place that Joe again attempted to pronounce, named Trattoria Tripoli.

“It has 4.5 stars.” - Joe

That boy really did do some research.

While we were sitting and waiting for our food Joe made a little ring out of the straw paper and slid it onto my ring finger. It was a gesture he'd done for a long time almost at every restaurant we go to, but this time it felt different. More butterflies set off in my stomach than normal.

——

We spent the rest of the evening and afternoon at the Airbnb watching movies on the couch since it had been such a long day.

At around seven I told Joe I was getting in the shower and that he was welcome to join me but he passed on the offer and said he wanted to start unpacking instead.

The shower was amazing and the many different settings had me making a mental note to buy a new showerhead for the house.

After stepping out I wrapped a towel around my body and put my hair up in another one before leaving the bathroom to get a comfy outfit.

I was confused when I stepped into the bedroom and Joe wasn't there, his suitcase was still zipped up and hadn't moved spots since we had gotten here.

“Joey?” - you yelled

My eyes scanned the room one more time and paused on the bed.

There was a beautiful dress I couldn't recognize as one from my closet and on top of it was a white envelope.

I immediately grabbed it and ripped it open.

Put this on and meet me on the balcony, the final surprise of the night. (but not of the trip)

The best of my love, Joe.

Asking myself the question I've been asking myself for 48 hours straight once again, what is he up to?

A while later I had the dress slipped on, my hair fixed, and very light makeup on.

There were nervous butterflies in my stomach because I had no idea what Joe was going to do.

I took a final deep breath before I walked out of the bedroom and out to where the balcony doors were in the living room.

When I stepped outside my heart stopped.

The instrumental version of Turning Page started playing (specifically at the time stamp 1:40) and Joe stood at the end of an Isle lined with candles and rose petals. He was wearing a dark grey button-down shirt with dark-washed jeans and dress shoes.

“Joe… what are you doing?” - your eyes filled with tears

“C’mere, baby.” - Joe smiled

I slowly walked to Joe who was nervously rubbing his sweaty palms on the front of his pants.

Joe took my hands in his and took in a deep nervous shaky breath.

“y/n y/l/n, for as long as I can remember I've wished for a princess to be the woman next to me. When I was younger every wish I made on an eyelash, dandelion, shooting star, or birthday candle, was about love. You filled that void. I remember the first time I laid eyes on you back at Ohio State, I was so infatuated with you but I knew there was no way I would be able to get an actual goddess to get out with me.” - Joe

He paused to laugh with me while I wiped my tears until he forged ahead.

“I was so surprised that my embarrassingly awful tries at flirting with you worked. I didn't need tutoring that much by the way, I just really wanted to be with you any chance I got. It seriously didn't matter to me if I was at your dorm studying till two with an eight AM practice the next morning if it meant I was spending time with you. You've been the one consistent thing in my life since then that I know will always be with me through anything. y/n, you're the princess that I've been asking for my whole life. The most gorgeous, humble, kind, selfless princess there ever was. You understand me on a level that no one else is even capable of doing and there isn't a life that I picture for myself without you in it. I'll love you when we're old farts with dentures, stealing kisses at the family get-togethers to freak our grandkids out because I know the rest of my living is with you. y/n, your love is my turning page.” - Joe

Both Joe and I giggled at his use of a line from the song that was currently playing before he dropped one of my hands to help wipe the steady flow of tears falling from my eyes.

“That being said…” - Joe

Joe paused and let go of my hands. My crying only got harder when he dropped down onto one knee and pulled the light blue Tiffany box out of his pocket. He flicked the box open and the gorgeous diamond ring only made me cry harder.

“Will you marry me?” - Joe looked up hopefully into your eyes

My hands covered my face for a second just because of how surreal this moment was.

“Yes! Of course, I'll marry you, Joe.” - your cried

Joe lept up and immediately wrapped his arms around me.

I wrapped my arms around him as he picked me up and spun me around.

When Joe finally sat me down he slipped the ring onto my finger and grabbed the back of my neck to kiss me.

Out of all the kisses we've had over seven years, this one was my favorite.

“I love you so much.” - Joe hugged you tight

“I love you too.” - you

——

We were both back in bed now that things had died down, but we were both bubbling with excitement.

“You’re my fiance.” - you smiled at Joe

“We’re getting married.” - Joe grinned

“You say that like you didn't think we ever would.” - You

“No, I knew we would. It's just official now. I'm so glad I finally did it.” - Joe

“Me too, baby. Me too.” - you smiled

I cuddled into Joe’s chest more and found myself nuzzled into his neck.

“Do you like the ring?” - Joe

“I love the ring. It's like exactly what I had pictured. You're really good at picking things out for me, Joe.” - you

“I have never put so much thought into anything else in my entire life. It took me weeks to find the one I wanted to get for you because it had to be perfect.” - Joe

“You seriously did an amazing job. We need to talk about some things though.” - you

“Like what?” - Joe

“When and how we're going to tell people, if we're going to make it public…” - you

“Shhh. We can worry about that when we're in Ohio. Right now I just want to be with my gorgeous fiance, eat dinner, and go to pound town later.” - Joe

I giggled and wrapped myself around Joe, grateful to have such an amazing man in my life who would soon be my husband.

————————————————————————-

Author’s note: on the ninth day of Christmas I gave you all the fluffiest fic ever. (part two with smut is coming guys don't worry)

Request for this fic;

[downwiththemutantnjnjaturtles]

Hi! Love your posts. Can you write crush headcanons for each of the turtles, like how they develop it, how they may act around them, and maybe ask them out? Thank you! Hope you have a great day!

TMNT crush headcanons:

Leonardo:

• Leo developes slow but meaningful crushes! He's very careful, and guarded of his feelings similar to Raph, but in his own way. His crush starts with feeling inspired by his person of interest, someone who makes him want to better himself in any way by either observing their passions, talents, and skills, or who encourages his limits to discover his own.

• He's thoughtful but very subtle about his affections towards someone, he doesn't exactly want them to know

• Observant, attentive, and a classic romantic is how he is—that last part, in his fantasies, at least. He dreams about being able to provide everything his crush could want or need, even though he can't always do so due to how they live

• Leo asks his crush out after a series of escalating gestures of love so it doesn't really catch them off guard. Asks them to meet him alone to talk because he has something important to say, and then makes the confession.

• "I know you have to know what I'm going to say, you're nervous, I can tell...I probably shouldn't have been so cryptic when I asked you to meet me in the dojo by yourself." He softens his posture a bit, to seem less tense. He'd lit several dozen candles scattered all over the room, partially for himself while he meditated to calm his mind a little, mostly to create an atmosphere. "You've become a close friend of mine despite everything, you know you're always welcome in our home, right? And you can come whenever." There's an awkward pause—he doesn't know how to continue with what he's saying. "Ah, anyways—I was saying...I enjoy your company, I would be honored to show you some stuff I know, in exchange for some of your time. Only if you'd like." God, he hoped that you would.

Michelangelo:

• Mikey couldn't hide his growing feelings, even if he wanted to. And it didn't take much for him to fall fast and hard for his crush; the attention he got was addictive and he wanted to give it back tenfold! He always wanted to feel wanted and accepted by others, so even though he couldn't have that from the rest of the human world, the fact that he had that from you was more than enough for him. He was grateful.

• He's his crush's biggest fan!! If there were merch, he'd wear it proudly even if it embarrassed you

• Creative and artistic; he painted and redesigned one of his old longboards just for you. It had some of his old pop-art on it, graffiti style, random sketches and doodles, and every sticker he could find. He tried to remember everything you liked to put it on the things he gave you, whether it were poster collages he made for his wall art or putting love onto the bottom of a skateboard. Big gift giver, so expect to get a LOT of stuff from him—even sentimental items he's nostalgic over, even if you feel bad to receive those things from him. He has a lot to give. 😌

• Mikey confesses by accident one day when he doesn't even mean to—he's playing around with you as usual and gets talkative when he's feeling excited, so it just slips out. Mid-play.

• "Ha-hah! That's what I'm taking about, I love you, Y/N!" There's a pause where it has to compute for a second. "Wait, did I just say that out loud?" He's serious for a moment—he can't believe he actually said that. But the next beat, he's back to smiling at you, laughing, maybe trying to deflect the hint of embarrassment he felt (which was rare for Mikey). "Yeah, I did say that out loud, I guess. Whoops...oh—now, tag, you're it!"

Donatello:

• Despite his brains and his intellectual nature, Donnie is an emotional person and actually falls in love almost immediately when he encounters that perfect person. He gets stars in his eyes and runs his own compatibility tests through his mind as he learns more about them, and annoyingly, they're stuck on his mind even when he's trying to work on his experiments and projects.

• Helpful, playful, a little stingy with your time lol—when he wants to spend time with his crush, he wants his brothers away because they take the limelight without thinking sometimes. Always offering to help you with homework or if you need anything fixed around the house, he's volunteering for that. Broken cabinet? Fixed. Wifi isn't working? No problem. Pipes under your sink leaking? He's been fixing up the Lair for years!

• Donnie is not shy. Let's say that rn. He's 👏 confident 👏. He's a little bit of a showoff competing with his brothers to snatch your attention, even if it's just games.

• He asks you if you'll have him on a date one night on your way out of the sewers. He'd been looking for the prime time to hit you with the question and was a little nervous to do it with his peers around, so he dropped the question when you went to leave for the night. "I know you're leaving—and this will only take a minute! But I had something to ask you." He lets you get curious. He holds up the keys to his prized possession, the Shellraiser, that he dreamed about driving you around in. "Ever gone on a joyride through New York in a souped-up garbage truck? No?...do you, maybe, want to do it with me? As a friend thing? Or maybe as more than just...friends?"

Raphael:

• Raph was completely UNready to admit he was getting soft for you. Or ready to commit to feeling the uncomfortable—but tantalizing—feelings you gave him. In honesty, for a good long while, Raph didn't let you know in the slightest he was getting his heart stolen over the course of the months he knew you.

• Very much puts off his crush with his prickly demeanor. But underneath that tough exterior, he's secretly taking every chance he can get to try to impress you in the ways he knows how; if there's any heavy lifting to be done, you bet he's volunteering himself out for that before anyone else can.

• Acts too good for sappy things until the moment his crush is being vulnerable—it disarms him, he's a protector at heart. He wants to be your shield from everything bad in the world, which is a lot.

• Raph plays the long game with his crush hinting over and over again he's in love, with no luck at times. It frustrates him but it's a challenge. He won't be outright and say it; everything he does is subtle, but the second your back is turned, he's making it known he's got your attention just to pull one over on his brothers (in good humor!)

• Makes his crush work with him to get the confession out, low-key. He makes you guess until you finally start to piece everything together. He will not be saying it with his words, but he'll definitely show it.

• "Y/N. C'mere," he says. "What're you still doing here this late, dummy? Already said it's not safe to walk home alone." Silence. "Agh, I did it again. Ignore my crap. But I mean it, stop goin' home alone, you know I told you I'd come too. And if I ain't available then I'm making Mikey go. Hear me? Stop acting like it's a burden or whatever..." He's kicking himself mentally for being unable to say what he actually wants to say. He ruffles your hair roughly to deflect. "See, now ya look silly like you act. Come on, let's go. I like you better safe in one piece than ending up in the back of some guy's van."

I lost all of my TMNT gifs from my old phone 😭 The post feels bare without it, but anyways, this is my first post in over a year so i hope it's good! 🐢🐢🐢🐢

[punchspeedchunk]

So, This guy is the product of @dullgecko and I throwing around fucking Fantasy High College AU shit.

This guy was a nothingburger background goblin who accidentally grew a personality and then before we knew it, we had a fully fleshed out character on our hands.

So this is Dex, he goes to Riz's university and is the Goblin Riz becomes most friendly with (Out of the like... 6 or 7 that go there in various different classes). More details under the cut for those who want them:

This guy hails from the Mountains of Chaos, from a Goblin clan known as being cave divers/fishers, but he spent a fair amount of his schooling at a coastal town of Solace.

He's pretty gangly for a Goblin, his family is fairly sure they have a fair bit of hobgoblin blood, but no clear idea how far back. They're all pretty chill, they have to be to dive caves safely, and the amount of time they have been doing it means that he has inherited traits like retractable partial webbing in his hands and feet, and a flattened paddle shape to his tail tuft. He also has long, dextrous fingers and toes, and double fangs for cracking through crustacean shells and tough fish scales.

Primarily a Druid, he got into a few levels of Barbarian in high school when it became apparent he had a chill limit, and when pushed past it, his frenzies were pretty incredible. He uses his longboard (Dwarvish made) as a bludgeoning weapon. He can also wild-shape and likes to do water creatures the most, so occasionally if he's been drinking you might see a starfish riding around on a longboard on campus.

He also frosts his tips with a bioluminescent algae he cultivates from home, and will give anyone who asks a stick-and-poke tattoo. He knows most Goblin clan's traditional tats, as well as many Orcish and Genasi designs. He speaks Common, Goblin, Orcish and is conversational in Genasi.

His personality for the most part is extremely chill. He walks everywhere barefoot, and will poke holes in shoes if he's forced to wear them so that his toes and the balls of his feet can still touch the ground. Doesn't think much of hierarchies, considers everyone equal and doesn't really gel with authority figures trying to assert control.

Community is very important to him, he is the social glue in any given situation and is extremely good at de-escalation. Either by talking people down, or beating the aggressor into submission when absolutely necessary.

If he wasn't training into adventuring, he would probably be either a surf/skate/diving instructor, or a psychologist (or just both). As it is, he likes to get out in the world and meet new people, very much a wanderer, just in it for the journey and the people. He doesn't have a specific party, he likes to hop parties to experience new dynamics and people.

He might settle down if he finds a group he super jives with, but for now he's interested in advancing his skills (and getting Riz to fucking relax like holy shit this is the most wound up wired guy he's ever met... but to be fair the hyper-competence is legit, and he is forever offering Riz some of his best gorgonfern to smooth his edges).

[pinknipszz]

modern headcanons | beach day

⋆✮↪ ao’nung, tsireya, neteyam, lo’ak, and kiri

ao’nung

definitely goes surfing at the beach. body surfing, bodyboarding, longboarding– you name it. the hobby shouldn’t have been much of a surprise to you, but when you first saw him out in the waves, safe to say your eyes nearly fell out of their sockets. you weren’t a complete stranger to surfing, but ao’nung did it on a level that had you questioning if it was even safe anymore. he always teases you for getting worried about his safety, but if it really starts to get rough out there, he’s willing to stay by the shore with you.

insists on being in charge of the sunscreen. since ao’nung spends most of the day under the sun, he knows how important it is to apply an ample amount of sunscreen. he doesn’t care if you want to stay under the shade or not. he will apply as much sunscreen as possible on your skin. if you ask him about it, he’d probably brush it off as a health precaution. while that’s partly true, the real reason is because he didn’t listen to his mother one time as a kid. he had to learn the hard way.

tsireya

brings the food, the blanket, you name it. it’s her love language. as much as you want to help, there’s no denying the fact that the set-up turns out way more aesthetically pleasing when she’s in charge. plus, her cooking is as wonderful as she is. it doesn’t even feel like a picnic anymore. you once told her that she should start a catering business, but she just smiled and shrugged it off, saying that she’d only go above and beyond for you. you could’ve sworn you melted on the spot.

loves to make bracelets. tsireya loves jewelry. not so much the expensive kind, but simple ones you can make by hand. when you aren’t in the mood for swimming but want to enjoy the salty breeze, tsireya sets up a blanket and brings her bracelet-making kits. when you accidentally discovered her hobby, tsireya called it childish and embarrassing, but you quickly reassured her that it was nothing of that sort. now you make matching bracelets together.

neteyam

knows the best time and date to have a beach day. his intuition is admirable and borderline scary. he knows you don’t like crowded beaches, and honestly, neither does he. neteyam prefers more private and intimate spots, so his only request after you suggested a beach day was to pick when and where to go. agreeing was the best decision you ever made. the weather is always perfect, the water is crystal clear, and no one else is there. really, you don’t know how he does it.

lets you bury him under the sand. probably used to it since he’s the eldest sibling. it started with sandcastles, but when you brought up a fond memory about “sand mermaids” from your childhood, neteyam was eager to recreate it just to hear you laugh. personally, he doesn’t get the joke, but it’s important to you and that’s all that matters to him. he’s just a gentleman through and through. he also doesn’t mind if you take embarrassing pictures of him.

lo’ak

if possible, he cannonballs. for this reason alone, he’s very particular about the beach you guys go to. there’s no nearby cliff over the water? pass. there’s no overhanging tree to climb and jump off of? pass. the water is too shallow? pass. it’s like he’s asking for death at this point, and he’s so stubborn about it. you’ll admit that the stress is worth it, though. he knows how to make things fun.

brings two pairs of goggles. lo’ak makes it a challenge to find the “weirdest” sea creatures possible. he’d definitely try to gross you out with them too. luckily, you know his greatest weakness: sea cucumbers. he physically can’t be within a five feet radius of a sea cucumber. silliness aside, you two spend a lot of time swimming through reefs together. he isn’t the most graceful swimmer, but you can tell that he’s fascinated by marine life. he’ll never admit it though. you find it endearing.

kiri

loves to paint your nails. you’d think that the beach wasn’t an ideal place to paint your nails, but somehow, this girl made it work. you two didn’t even go to the beach for swimming at this point. you’re there for scenery. you weren’t upset by it, though, because every second spent with your favorite girl was worth it, and you can tell she felt the same way. she also has a very artistic hand. kiri knows how to recreate any nail design you show her.

wades through the shallow parts of the water. just because kiri likes to stay in the sand doesn’t mean she hates the water altogether. it’s quite the opposite actually. she’s very fond of dragging her feet through the water with you hand-in-hand, watching tiny fish swim by. occasionally, she’ll pull you close if she recognizes a fish and tells you all about it, and everytime she does, you can’t hold back a smile. she’s really in her element.

(masterlist)

[daisynik7]

hi nikki, congratulations on 2k! it's so deserved <3

for your event, can I request sk8er boi by avril lavigne with nanami specifically "he was a punk, she did ballet" + fluff

thank you <3

Sk8er Boi

He was a punk, she did ballet, what more can I say?

Pairing: Nanami x f!reader

Word Count: ~2.4k

cw: fluff, modern day au, no curses au, college au, reader is a ballet dancer, Nanami is a musician and a skaterboarder

Summary: You’ve had a crush Kento Nanami ever since you first saw in him your class, dressed in the typical skater boy attire with baggy jeans and flannel shirt wrapped loosely around his waist. You don’t ever expect to cross paths any further until you find out that he’ll be performing as part of the orchestra for your spring recital. Soon, you learn that the two of you, despite your seemingly obvious differences, are more compatible than meets the eye.

Author’s Note: Thank you for this request @75songs and for always supporting my Nanami content, I appreciate you so much! This is such a fun song for the y2k karaoke party, I really had a blast writing it. I did a bit of research on ballet, so to any/all my ballet dancers on here, I apologize if I got any details completely wrong or inaccurate! Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are ALWAYS appreciated, thanks so much for reading and I hope you enjoy! Divider credit to @/saradika.

You’re drawn to Kento Nanami from the start, ever since you first lay eyes on him spring semester of your junior year in Music Appreciation. It’s a small class, no more than thirty people in the lecture hall early morning on a Monday. It’s not uncommon for students to travel around campus on a longboard or skateboard, but when you notice Nanami put his on the rack, donned in ripped baggy jeans, white tee, and a blue checkered flannel wrapped around his waist, you can’t help holding your gaze on him a little longer than necessary. As a dance major, with a concentration in ballet, you’re used to your classes being filled with the same people you’ve been with since freshman year. So, when you spot someone new, someone different, it sparks your interest. There’s nothing wrong with admiring from afar, right?  

Two months pass of you crushing on him in secret, sneaking glances during lecture, your heart skipping a beat whenever you spy on him outside of class either in the library or cafeteria. You would have never expected your paths to actually cross in March, when your troupe prepares for the spring recital. Mei Mei, your ballet master, instructs you all to gather at the main theater on campus to meet the orchestra, who will be performing the music for the concert. To your pleasant surprise, Nanami is among the ensemble, carrying a bass clarinet in his hands. 

“This is our grand orchestra for this spring’s recital,” Mei Mei introduces. “They are some of the finest musicians in the city. Some of them are even your fellow peers here from the university. I expect you all to show them your utmost respect and gratitude for volunteering their time to make this concert spectacular.”

You give them a round of applause, eyes flickering to Nanami, wearing his usual skater boy attire. His gaze meets yours, and he smiles, giving you a small wave. Heat rushes into your cheeks, tummy fluttering nervously, flustered by the fact that he’s acknowledged you. You search around, trying to see if it’s someone next to you that he’s waving at instead, but neither of your neighbors seem aware of him. When you look back, his attention is elsewhere, and the moment passes as quickly as it occurred.

The following Monday, you’re early as usual to class. You set up your laptop and take the extra time to people watch, especially eager to see one particular person. He arrives to the lecture hall with about three minutes to spare, placing his skateboard on the rack. Today, he’s in a black V-neck with a familiar logo on his chest, his collarbones barely visible. You expect him to take his usual spot on the other side of the room, a few rows ahead. When he walks towards you, beelining to the empty seat on your left, you’re dumbfounded, hastily collecting yourself as he asks, “Is this taken?”

You shake your head, attempting a smile, unable to coherently forms words into a proper response. He murmurs a soft, “Thank you,” before sitting down, retrieving his laptop to set in front of him. The professor still hasn’t arrived, and for the first time, you’re actually wishing they would to offer a distraction from this unusual situation. 

Nanami clears his throat, turning to face you. “We haven’t properly met yet. I’m Kento Nanami. I recognized you the other day from class. I’m excited to see your performance for the spring recital.”

You introduce yourself, too nervous to meet his gaze, instead focusing on his neck, which only flusters you further. “I’m excited to hear your performance as well. Are you a music major?”

“Yes, music education to be more precise. I want to be a music teacher.”

You smile, relaxing a bit with the easy flow of conversation. “What a coincidence. I want to be a ballet teacher.”

His expression brightens. “Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“Wow,” he muses, eyes twinkling at you. 

Maybe it’s just in your head, but there’s a spark. And when the professor finally arrives, you wish you could take back what you thought earlier, because now, you want nothing more but to be distracted by Nanami. 

~~~

Since that day, you and Nanami talk with each other every chance you get. Before lecture, on the way to your next class, the few minutes until practice starts, and even after, as he walks you to your on-campus apartment with his skateboard tucked under his arm. You learn that he plays a variety of instruments, including bass clarinet, drums, even a little bit of piano. His true passion is bass guitar, which he plays for his band Black Flash. As if you could like him any more than you already do, the thought of seeing him up on a stage, fingers working nimbly on the strings, slapping a riff with that smooth expression on his face does wonders to your heart. You’re shy every time he compliments your dancing, waving him off to say that you still have work to do to improve your technique, make your moves cleaner, more precise. Still, he continues to praise you, in awe of your flexibility and gracefulness. Sometimes, you’ll catch him staring at you from the pit when Mei Mei pauses the music to focus on a certain movement.  

A week before the recital, Nanami waits for you after practice to collect your belongings. You forgot to mention to him earlier that you’ll be staying behind to break in your new pointe shoes, a process that takes a while. “Just go ahead without me,” you tell him.

He lingers while you sit down on the stage, a hard mat in front of you, unboxing your shoes. “What are you doing?”

“Pointe shoes are very stiff, so I have to break them in before I can dance in them properly,” you explain. 

“What do you mean ‘break in’?” He peers at you with a curious expression on his face, kneeling down to sit beside you. 

You smile at him, clapping your shoes together to create a loud noise. “Hear how hard these are? I’m going to bash them against this mat to soften them up.”

“Bash them?” 

“Yup. Like this.” You proceed to smash the sole against the mat repeatedly, enjoying how Nanami gapes at you, shocked. You giggle at him, handing him the other half. “You can help me with this if you want. It’s a nice form of stress relief, right?”

He reaches into his pocket for his phone. “Sounds like a good opportunity to play some music.”

You scoot closer to him. “You should play something by Black Flash,” you request, smirking at him.

“Really? You want to hear something from us?”

“Absolutely.”

He smiles at you, a subtle blush surrounding his cheeks. “Okay.”

For the next half hour, you whack your shoes to the beat of the music, listening carefully for the smooth bass, knowing it’s Nanami. He watches you test them out with Black Flash still playing in the background, stretching and swiveling in them to mold to your feet properly. Usually, you’re alone or with your troupe doing this, and it’s as uneventful as you’d imagine. But with Nanami, this ordinary task is special. You appreciate him being so interested in your passion, even if it is vastly different from his own. You would have never expected the mysterious skater boy from your class to be holding your ballet shoes in hand or clapping politely as you stand on pointe for him, impressed by your skill. And you would have never expected yourself to fall so head over heels for him. 

~~~

The spring recital is a massive success. Mei Mei bows in front of the standing ovation, holding a fresh bouquet of flowers in her hands. She points at the orchestra in the pit, giving them her unending thanks. You glance over at Nanami, looking professional and handsome in his black-tie attire, though you can’t help but miss the typical baggy jeans and basic tee he usually wears. 

Backstage, exhausted but still buzzing with excitement, you all remove your makeup together, discussing the after party. “Are you coming with us? Or are you planning to go out with your boyfriend?” Your friend, Hana, smirks at you through the reflection in the mirror, wiping off her eyeshadow.

Before you can respond, the other dancer beside you scoffs. “Isn’t he a punk or something? What would your parents say if they knew you were dating him?”

Her blatant rudeness shocks you, and you’re unsure how to respond, blood gradually boiling with anger. Luckily, your friend does. “What the hell are you talking about, Kimi? Do you even know him?”

She barks a crude laugh. “I mean, just look at him. He’s always wearing those baggy clothes. You’re telling me she,” Kimi points to you, “will ever get with a guy like him?”

Your friend glares at her, ready to argue, but you interfere, mustering the courage to speak up for yourself, and for Nanami. “He’s a great guy who’s been nothing but sweet and kind to me. Not that it matters, but I happen to like his clothes. And you know what else? I like Nanami, so yes, I would get with a guy like him. So, I would appreciate it if you kept your judgmental attitude to yourself from now on.” 

Conveniently finished removing your stage makeup, you pack your bag, turning your back to her, giving Hana a passing high-five on your way out. 

~~~

“Are you sure it’s okay for me to go there like this?” You sit in the passenger seat of Nanami’s car, dressed in leggings and a comfortable t-shirt, an hour after your performance. He met you outside the theater back in his usual get-up with a dozen roses in his hands, congratulating you. After, you went out for burgers, it was then that he invited you to watch Black Flash tonight at one of the local venues downtown. 

“Of course. You look great, as always,” he answers, grinning at you. “Are you sure you want to go to this? I know there’s probably an after party you’d much rather attend – ”

You interrupt him gently, smiling. “I’d much rather be here than anywhere else right now.” 

When you arrive to the venue, Nanami leads you through the crowd, acknowledging some of the workers as he passes by, making his way backstage. There, you meet his bandmates: Gojo the guitarist, Geto who does lead vocals and guitar, and Shoko, the drummer. They all greet you politely, teasing Nanami for “finally bringing a date to the show.” He blushes, ignoring them, quietly setting up, tuning his bass. 

By the time Black Flash is ready to perform, your new friends direct you back to the audience to watch them. You maneuver your way through the throng of people, taking your spot near the front, wanting a good view of them, especially Nanami. When the MC announces their name, the crowd goes wild, hooting and hollering for them as they walk across the stage, waving at their fans like true rockstars. Your chest fills with adrenaline, heart pumping with excitement, attention focused on Nanami as he stands to the left, guitar hanging low with the strap wrapped around his shoulders. He glances up, searching the audience until his eyes land on yours; he smiles at you, giving you a small wave with his free hand, the left cradling the neck delicately.

As soon as the music starts, the bass reverberates from the speakers and up the soles of your feet, electrifying every nerve in your body. You recognize the song they’re playing; it reminds you of the week before, when you were bashing your pointe shoes against the hard mat, nodding your head along to the music. You’ve since added Black Flash into your daily playlist, listening to it often, imagining Nanami grooving with the bass nestled in his hands. His talent is other worldly; just a few hours ago, he was decked out in a suit, performing in an orchestra, and now he’s out here, rocking the stage with his fellow bandmates. Your pulse quickens, exhilarated by the familiar music and the realization that your little crush on Nanami is much more serious than you originally thought. 

~~~

Nanami skips the band’s invitation for a late-night bite to take you back to campus. In the car, you ask, “Are you sure you don’t want to go with them? I can find another way home easily.”

“I’d much rather be here than anywhere else right now,” he says, repeating the same answer you gave him earlier. You smile, holding each other’s gaze a second longer before he starts driving. 

You babble on and on about how impressive the show was, how completely starstruck you became by the end of it. “The bass really comes through when you’re playing live! I felt it in my soul, especially during ‘Overtime’. I think that might be my favorite song.”

He pulls up to the parking lot down the street from your complex, turning off the ignition. “I’m really happy you came tonight. I know you must be tired.”

“Are you kidding?!” you exclaim, shifting in your seat to face him. “I got a second wind as soon as you started playing! Yeah, my feet are a little sore, so I’ll definitely need to ice them tomorrow morning, but oh my gosh! That was truly amazing! I can’t believe I got to see Black Flash live in concert – ”

He leans into you, interrupting your rambling with a soft kiss on the lips. His hand slides around the nape of your neck, pulling you in deeper, and after the initial shock of it all, you melt into him, mouths moving seamlessly with each other. You only stop to catch your breath, pressing your forehead to his, whispering his name. “Nanami.” 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that,” he mutters, breaking apart from you, burying his face in his hands. “I should have asked if it was okay with you first. I just…I lost control because you’re so sweet, and so beautiful, and I – ”

“Nanami,” you say again, smiling at him. You pull his hands away from him, brushing your lips along his skin, kissing him softly on each knuckle. “I liked it. I like you.”

He swallows thickly, eyes widening at your confession. “You do?”

“Can I make it any more obvious?” you giggle. 

He lets out a relieved laugh, cheeks rounded with happiness, nuzzling his nose to yours. “I really like you too. I’ve liked you from the start.”