#rocker skating

[beautifulstorms]

Evgeniia Lopareva / Geoffrey Brissaud, Rasputin • GP France 2024

[slimywren]

why are tiktok pop punk bands labelling their music as skate punk…. if ur music has a little tiktok to go along with it and u look like mgk……. look inwards babes….

[banananananananaduck]

i just bought new figure skates!! and!! wow!! i’m so happy!!

[stargazerlillian]

Currently conflicted on if "Bird Boy" should be set in the 80's/90's or the modern era...🤔

[crazykuroneko]

somehow it came to me how amc loustat would look like to rocker lestat's fans. you know, he would be like one of those male celebs who are outed as abusive, but his fans are delusional about it and people who just know him going like "he who i know is a good person" etc etc. i mean, i could see other artists who worked with him briefly or fans who had contacts with him would defend him cos he is charming. they would say his band mates never said anything bad about him (of course, the band knew it'd be a bad PR. they got smart manager) and they'd call louis an ex who's looking to ride les' name even though louis' book was out before the band started and les never really denied louis' book. fan wars would go down on twitter like 24/7 cos lestat ofc has a lot of antis to begin with w/wo louis' account. it's 2022/2023 after all! then one day they would hear a rumour that Thee Louis would come to The Concert, and they're dreading it. TMZ prob got a backstage photo when louis kissed lestat, and it would be out after lestat went poof gone after the concert, never be seen again. god they would hate louis so much 😂😂

[earthintrxder]

OMFG SKATING POLLY X VERUCA SALT COLLAB WHAT

[igotanidea]

More than blood: batboys x bat!sister

Dick was not the first one who was adopted by Bruce.

Y/N was.

And if you talk about the eldest daughter complex she was the perfect example of it.

Y/N was so much like her adoptive father. Quiet, observant, seemingly emotionally cold yet charming and enticing when circumstances called for it. Smart like hell. She knew exactly how to take care of herself, and yet, Bruce being himself was always hesitant to let her out into the streets of Gotham at night. But she fought for it. Hard. She had no natural talent for fight, but she was fast, flexible and imperceptible in the shadows. Slowly, but steadfastly she gathered enough strength and skills to become the very first Batman’s sidekick. She was not a fan of a traditional way of training. Boxing, weight lifting and throwing punches wasn’t exactly her style, but she was extremely good with skates and rollerblades and all the moves that involved a bit of dance-like moves. So that was how Bruce trained her. Three-turns, brackets and rockers just came naturally to her, both on ice on the ground and she was soon the best of the best. When she was ready to come on patrol,  Bruce created the most cliche name for her.

Batgirl.

Which she instantly refused, instead choosing to go by the name of Cover. After all, that was what she was doing. Covering.

At first, it was only Bruce and Alfred she was taking care of.  Never pushing anything but always finding a way to make sure they did the right thing. Listening carefully to their every word, getting her head around any possible situation and just being there when they needed her. She was not a people pleaser and definitely wasn’t going out of her own way for them (and that was the hot spot between her and Bruce), but in times of need and crisis she was the best possible support. Unwavering. Strong. Persistent.

And then, Dick came in. Of course, having younger brother (even if there was barely half a year age gap) put a lot more pressure on her shoulder. So she did her best to connect with him. It was hard, no denying. Dick has just lost his parents and he was harsh and murky and  a bit unpredictable. But she did not give up making sure he will finally warm up to her. And maybe Bruce.

“What are you doing?” one day, after particularly rough training with Bruce he came across her while she was working out

“Oh, you know. I was never good with all those flips” she lowly lifted herself from the floor, rubbing sweat from her forehead, her hair being a total mess. “Bruce insisted I learned some, but I was always better with my speed, skate figures and fast-thinking than actual acrobatics. However” she raised an eyebrow at the boy “I heard you are the master in the field. Care to show me a few tricks? Unless you prefer to sulk in the corner….” She smirked

And so they connected. Creating a lot of inside jokes during the year, being the support for each other. Of course, as older sister Y/N had no problem in literally smacking his head when he did something stupid and as younger brother he had no inhibitions in scaring her potential boyfriends away, but yes, they were close.

And then, Jason came in. The rowdy kid from the Crime Alley and she had to figure out another way to reach him. It didn’t take a lot of time to notice he was interested in literature, so she started leaving books around in the manor. Mostly classics, like Jane Austen and Shakespeare, but from time to time she risked more modern writers. He always took them from the place they were and returned a couple days later. He was a fast reader. One night, when he returned from patrol, all fuming and on the verge of breaking, he noticed a light coming out of her room and due to some crazy feelings took a few steps towards there.

“Hello, Jason” he might have been quiet, but she was the first trained by Bruce, so the poor boy has no chance not to be noticed.  She turned in her chair and smiled lightly “It’s good to see you.  So it happens I got tickets for a midsummer night’s dream. Two tickets. Would you maybe ….”

“Yes. Yes, please, take me with you.” his eyes was glistening with so much hope she would choose him, it made her want to cry and laugh at the same time. Pushing aside the urge to hug Jason (it was too early for that and he would not appreciate) she just nodded. And there was the connection.

And then, there was Tim. The Brainiac. Coffee addict. Sleep deprived. Constantly working, cracking cases. And being quite successful at it, even if sometimes he took the long road instead of connecting the dots to create the shortcuts.

“How’s the case going?” she asked at breakfast one time, noticing Tim’s tired eyes and disheveled hair. He wasn’t sleeping well that night, but what’s new.

“It’s not.” he groaned pecking at his food not really eating any of it “and stop making fun out of me because of it!”

“Fun?” she almost choked on her toast “Really, Tim? I’m not happy at all that you are missing the most obvious piece of the puzzle.”

“The most ob….? You were compromising my work?!”

“I was …. Checking your work” now, she had to be extremely careful with words “And what I found out is that you definitely have a criminal mind. But” she raised a hand stopping him before he could say a thing “you are also awfully messy, Tim. You splattered some coffee on the sheets and blurred the numbers. And that is why you couldn’t reach the conclusion.”

“I…. What!?”

“Hate to break it to you, champ.” She shrugged taking a sip of her own coffee “but apart from that, you did a really good job with the task.”

And with a couple more cases like this they got into real sibling relationship.

Damian was the hardest one. Trained by the assassin, treated like a threat and a menace, far more tough than Jason, cruel and with no moral compass. Not by his fault. He was the one who needed some soft care most of them all, but would never accept. So there were two options, get to him with fighting skills or by using his art adoration. She couldn’t just leave art supplies for him like she did with Jason and books, but she got one more idea, which required a bit of Alfred’s help.

‘Rough night miss y/n?” the butler asked when the girl emerged from the batcave, covered in bandages and patches.

“You have no idea, Alfred” she yawned “At first B had me running around the streets creating some sort of diversion for him, since none of the Robins where available “ a quick glance towards her three brothers “and when I got back I got lost into my latest painting…..” she trailed waiting for Damian’s reaction. Seemingly nothing has changed, but she looked carefully enough to notice his eyebrows lifting slightly and his body shift towards her to hear better. Gotcha!

“The castle?” Alfred asked, curiosity in his voice

“Yes. I’m almost finished  and I think I will need some help in hanging it in the living room soon. Will you be so kind with it Alfred?”

“Of course, miss Y/N.”

A couple days later, the painting did hang on the wall and some Sunday afternoon she found Damian standing in front of it and looking it up and down.

“I could have used a bit more blue on the edges.” She said stopping by his right side.

“Not just blue.” He retorted

“Nighttime blue?” she asked

“Nighttime blue” he said at the same time and their gazes met.  She tilted her head slightly while Damian’s face showed a bit of surprise. He was so young and so wrongly treated it was almost unfair.

“I know, but it’s too close to the color of Dick’s suit. He would never let me live it through.” She let out a laugh and Damian smirked.

“I got an idea of how we can improve your next painting if you ever were to create another.”

“Oh, you think you are better than me in the art field?” she gasped grabbing her heart in fake hurt

“I know I am.”

“Wanna bet?”

And so he warmed up to her as well. It seemed like all of the batboys were prone to her silent charm. But obviously there were times when she had bad days. Being the one with the longest training, seeing most of the violent things and crimes and living thought her own tragic events sometimes, in the times of greatest stress she was just becoming completely silent. Not able to say a word, getting through the days like a ghost, wanting to disappear, getting lost inside her own head. Usually, it lasted up to four or five days, and it was normal. Just a sign for Bruce to put her off the patrol so she can get through whatever was going on inside her head. He wasn’t the one to actually talk a lot about feelings and emotions, but even Batman had to be alerted after two weeks of radio silence on her part.

From the little intel he had on her since she left the manor he learned that for the last days she wasn’t eating properly, struggling with her work, looking tired and worn out even though she was sleeping a lot. Something was off and the only people who could actually be of help would be her brothers.  Dick was in Bludhaven, Jason was running around the Crime Alley, Tim was busy with work for Wayne Enterprises and Damian, well…there was no way of figuring out what he was up to. Bruce groaned not really sure how to call the boys for rescue but it was about Y/N so he just used the unofficial channel and simply called all of them. He did not expect that they would gang up and show at the manor at the exact same time. Those stone walls haven’t; heard that much of a banter and silly fights for a while and despite everything, deep, deep inside Bruce was glad they came.

“Let’s be clear. I’m here only because of Y/n.” Jason stated bluntly “nothing more”

“thank god, I thought Red Hood was getting soft” Dick punched his arm playfully and was surprised with how hard his little brother’s muscle were.

“If you want me to show you…..”

“Where exactly is Y/N?” Tim interrupted his brothers fight, focusing on the most important matter

“And where are her paintings?” Damian frowned looking around.

“She moved out some time ago and took her works with her.” Bruce hissed. It was somewhat …. painful to admit that she left.

“Where?” Jason hissed

None of them cared that it was the middle of the day and their sister was probably at work. They had their own methods of getting inside the building unnoticed and years of training came extremely useful in that case.

Poor Y/N. Work was hard, as usual during the last couple days, she was tired and sad and dealing with a lot of thoughts. Even her usual way of blowing steam off while skating or rollerblading wasn’t helping.  She might have left her vigilante persona behind, but old habits die hard and when she climbed up the step to her apartment she could not fail to notice shadows on the floor and almost inaudible voices coming from the inside. Her instincts immediately kicked in when she put the bag down, bracing herself and busted through the door. Her first, perfectly aimed punch met with Tim’s stomach and the half-turn kick got Damian falling onto the ground. It took both Dick and Jason to stop her from making any more damage.

“Calm down Y/N! It’s just us” Jason calmed her down smirking, surprised with her skills that wasn’t gone.

“Will you behave?” Dick added making sure she wasn’t going to attack them again and only then letting her go

“What the hell?!” she hissed getting free of her brother’s grip “what are you four doing here?!”

“since when do you know how to punch?” Tim groaned “I thought that wasn’t your style?”

“I expanded my skill set. Out of everyone here you should be the one to appreciate it, Tim.”

“I would esteem it better if it wasn’t aimed at me.”

“Right. Sorry. But the question remains. What the hell are you doing here?! You know, I;m used to one Robin, or former Robin, come around from time to time, but this?”

“Father called upon us. He was worried something was off with you.” Damian spat getting off the floor, embarrassment visible on his face.

“Bruce was worried?” she laughed ironically “Right. Sure. He was the reason I left the manor. Should have taken example from you Dick and run the hell away ten years ago.”

“It was five….” Dick tried to chime in but she did not let him

“And now he’s so worried he won’t even visit me by himself. Instead he just send a rescue party?” she turned around and  slumped on the couch

“Y/N…..” Jason tried to reason with her “come on, tell your favorite brother what happened”

“For once I agree with Todd. Tell your favorite brother what is wrong. I mean, me, of course in case someone does not get the clue” Damian hissed taking a spot next to Y/N before anyone else could do it.

“Cut it guys, everyone knows I’m her favorite. I know her the longest of us all and I know everything about her.” Dick objected, crossing his arms with a wide smile, being so sure no one could threaten his position

“Everything?” Tim scoffed “You have no idea about half of the things she likes. I learned them. By myself.”

“Yeah, by spying on her. You call that a good relationship?”

“I do not spy!”

“Cut it, replacement. We all know the most bonding thing are inside jokes. And we have plenty since we read the same books. You wouldn’t even get half of our quotes!”

“Let me get my gear and I’ll show you how half of a quote look like. Art is what connects people and you all are just nonentity in that area. Not like me. Besides, I was training with her the most, so…..” Damian interrupted and at this moment all four boys were just shouting at each other while their sister was sitting on the sofa watching the scene in front of her eyes without any word.

“Get out.” She finally said. Quietly, but they heard her and stopped immediately “All of you. Get out. Now. “

“Y/n….” Dick was first to notice his sister’s pale skin and shaking hands “Please….”

“No.” she shook her head “I;ve had enough. This is exactly why I was always making sure you won’t show up at my place at once. You just can’t seem to fight who’s better or stronger or smarter or more skilled. It’s been like that all our time together. You just try so hard to outdo one another. “

“Well, I mean, she’s not wrong” Jason smirked running a hand through his hair and was instantly met with four pairs of reproachfully eyes “sorry….”

“Is that what bothers you?” Tim asked silently bending down to look into her eyes.

“What? No. Hell no. Why do you think something bothers me?” she stood up abruptly heading to the kitchen to grab herself a glass of water. Shit, Tim was always the one to crack her faster than others.

“You have cuts on your forearms.” Red Robin pointed and she tried to cover them quickly

“And a bruise on the neck.” Damian added following her

“Those kind of traces that does not come from skating.” Jason poked at her skates thrown on the floor in the corridor

“And that means you….I mean, Cover, has been active again.” Dick finalized. “Why?”

“Oh, come in….” she was getting more and more nervous with every minute “is this an interrogation now?”

“No. This are four brothers concerned about their sister well-being.  Does that sound better.”

“Vaguely.”

“Why did you put on the suit again?”

“Because I wasn’t feeling enough!” she spat and immediately covered her mouth to stop the sob coming next

“What?!” Jason hissed and grabbed her hand which made her flinch “oh, so you hurt your hands as well.  Not so much about expanding your skills in punching, hm?”

“Shut up.” She hissed back at him, sticking her tongue out

“That’s a very mature behavior for the oldest one” Damian pointed “but Grayson’s question is still on. Why did you pick up the mantle again? You said you were done?”

“I was. Until one night I heard the weeps and screams of my neighbor being beaten by her boyfriend.”

“Y/N….”

“And the other time, when I heard on the news how Nightwing got beaten while protecting people who were trapped in the fire….”

“I did not…..”

“Oh, and that one time when some little bird brought the news about Red Hood getting in trouble in the Crime Alley and almost dying? Again.”

“ok, it wasn’t even half as bad…..” Jason tried to defend himself

“And then, Red Robin and Robin. Running loose without batman. Dealing with criminals on their own accords and getting involved in the shooting?”

“It was Drake’s fault!” Damian cried out and Tim just punched him lightly

“Stop it.” Red Robin hissed at his younger brother “let her make a point, because it’s not it.”

“Then what is?”

“Come on, sis, tell us” Jason crouched next to her and squeezed her hands lightly

“I…. I can’t”

“Of course you can. There’s no shame in anything. Safe space. And as your big brother, I have duty to make sure you are all right.”

“You are younger than me, Dick.”

“Barely younger. And still, the oldest brother. “

“Come on, Y/N. Just spit it out.”

“Fine. Fine. Just quit looking at me like that. It’s creepy. I… I might have gotten into a bad relationship…..

“WHAT?!”

“Calm down, Damian. It wasn’t that serious. I kicked his butt first time he came at me….”

“WHAT?! I’m gonna find him. I’m gonna find him and…..” Dick caught his younger brother before he could get out and really find and eliminate the guy.

“It’s in the past. But you know, all that got me thinking. About who I was in the past. The cover. And how you guys were always out there, putting your lives at risk while I was just sitting at home, watching and doing nothing…..”

“so you thought it would be good idea to just go out on patrol by yourself.” Tim threw his arms in the air in frustration “Y/N, you know better than that.”

“Come on, what was I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know. Call me….” Jason said, but corrected himself due to Damian poking him in the ribs “I mean…. Us.”

“How could I?” she rolled her eyes.  “You guys have enough on your plates without me.”

“This is unbelievable” Tim scoffed

“You never patrol alone and we would never let you do it” Damian added

“What do you mean without you?” Dick narrowed his eyes at their sister “do you think you are some sort of burden?”

“Well…. I…. um…..”

“Are you insane?” Jason was the first one to burst. “Are you insane?”

“You do realize we are family, right?”

“This is a pretty crazy family.”

“Sure, but at the end of the day we watch each other’s back and that’s why we are all….alive.”

“Ekhem….”

“Sorry, Jayson, but we are alive. Some of us get to be alive more than once, but still.”

“I hate you, Dickhead”

“Look Y/N, no matter what you need to know you are important. You were the one to always take care of all of us, so, just for once, let us do the same.”

“But isn’t that what the eldest sibling of the family is supposed to do?”

“Since when do you care about supposed to do?”

“Never did. But I care about you guys and…..”

“Let us help Y/N. You are not alone. “

“I know. “

“So why are you crying?”

“I’m not crying!”

“You are!”

“Stop it! It’s just …. Nice, to know someone cares about you, all right? That is… new.”

“Come here, you silly one.” Dick crushed her in a bear hug to the point where it was nearly impossible to breathe “you’re not doing it again alone, you hear me?”

“So, what are you suggesting?”

“I’m thinking.….. just for the sake of all times…. A little night patrol with all your crazy brothers?”

“Dunno. Is Red Hood ready to work with the bats?” she smirked at Jason.

“Just this once. And we stay out of the Crime Alley.” He shook his head in disapproval but his words were contradiction to his action.

“How about our little Robins?”

“I’m not little!” Damian yelled

“Neither am I, but still I’m down. It’s been a while and I’m wondering if you really did enhanced your fighting skills.” Tim smiled

“So, it’s settled. Everyone meet me here at the dawn?”

“You sure you can handle four vigilantes in your tiny apartment?”

“I’ve been doing it my whole life. And I can always ground you. Big sister privilege.”

She smiled at her brothers and despite their protests she was now feeling so much better. Just knowing that she had someone (more than one) to rely on made her feel valued and cared for. This family was more than blood and they were protectors of each other as much as of Gotham.

[venriliz]

Portia Montez for @rainymoodlet's Rock of Love Bachelor Challenge! <3

in depth info + full wardrobe below the cut! ↓

✮ Portia was born and raised in Evergeen Harbor, an industrial port town known for it's huge import/export businesses and even more so - it's heavily polluted environment especially at the shores of the sickly brown-ish sea. The early death of Portia's mother directly caused by the affects the bad air had on her health has instilled somewhat of a love-hate relationship towards Evergreen Harbor into the then 8 year old girl.

✮ Her father tried his best to raise his daughter by himself but despite his long working hours in a local shipyard the money was barely enough for them to survive, the possibilty of moving away far out of reach.

✮ Early in her youth she found her talent and passion for skateboarding, winning many prizes in junior competitions all over the country. After barley graduating from highschool (some ppl just aren't made for the educational system lol) she became a promising professional and quickly made a name for herself in the skating community all over the world. Her biggest successes were two back-to-back street skateboard world championship titles and several self-invented tricks where named after her. Life was good for Portia not only professionally but personally too after meeting Davide Montez who became not only her manager but als her husband.

✮ Sadly, as the saying goes though - nothing lasts forever and about a year ago, Portia found herself forced to retire from competing professionally because growing up in the bad environment of Evergreen Harbor finally started to catch up with her own health. Her retirement caused her marriage to suffer as well and soon after she announced the end of her career as a professional, Davide called it quits and they agreed to divorce on good terms.

✮ Now with her financial stability and free time to pursue new things, Portia took the chance and applied for the bachelor challenge to win Jackson Roth's heart. This is mostly thanks to her friends pressuring her to try after catching her gawking at one of the billboards with Jackson's photo on it (i mean HELLO?! he's hawt! °-° she just... doesn't like the music lol). Portia is (somewhat) ready for a new adventure and maybe, just maybe she'll find love again! <3

likes:

colors: orange, red, black music: electronica, hip hop, latin characteristics: family-oriented, hardworking, idealistic convo topics: flirting, deep thoughts, affection, talking about hobbies fashion: rocker, streetwear activities: fitness, dancing, wellness, rock climbing decor: industrial, mid-century

dislikes:

music: metal, cottagecore, ranch characteristics: egotistical, argumentative, ambitionless convo topics: evil interactions, arguing, gossip fashion: polished, country activities: fishing, cooking, mischief decor: farmhouse, cute

wardrobe:

[katanadepapel]

GOONGALA!!!!!

Finally I did my Casey Jones of TOTTMNT!

I decided to mix it with the Casey Jones 2007, Casey Jones 2012 and Casey Jones Jr 2022 versions (my third favorite), since my first one is this one and the second one is the 2012 one 😍🥰

Here's my summary about him, his bio, my headcanons and more!

•Name: Arnold Bernin Casey Jones Jr, also known as "CJ"

*Other nicknames: Case, the avenger, toothless.

•Age: 17 years old

•Sign: Sagittarius

•Country: Mexico 🇲🇽

•Religion: Catholic (not a stereotype, but I thought it was cool that Casey was Catholic)

•Like: April O'Neil, his sister Victoria and his sister (of consideration) Naomi, annoying Raphael, working out, playing Freefire and Fortnite, eating hot dogs, sleeping late if he lets them, Coca Cola zero, strong coffee without sugar, and beating up villains.

•Dislikes: Waking up early, cockroaches, too much candy, going to the dentist, injustice at school or on the street, corruption and bandits like the purple dragons.

•Physical description: Casey is a tall, thin mexican boy with wavy black hair that he usually wears in a half-up ponytail, or ponytail. He has a unique style, half geek, half rocker, usually wearing ripped jeans, graphic t-shirts, and his frayed hoodies and vests. His eyes are dark blue and he has a mischievous and confident expression.

•Personality traits: Rebellious, talkative, passionate, loyal, and adventurous.

•Background: Casey's father is an FBI agent and his mother owns a beauty salon. He has two sisters, Angel and Victoria, and a close-knit family. He is a talented hockey player and enjoys roller skating and playing video games with his best friend Raphael, or skate with your sister of consideration, Naomi Mendes.

•Motivations: Casey's main goals are to impress his crush, April O'Neil, and prove his independence from his overbearing father. He also wants to protect his new friends, the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and maintain his rebellious image.

•Weaknesses: Impulsive, hot-headed, and sometimes reckless in his actions. He can also be insecure about his father's high expectations and his own self-worth.

• Relationships: Casey is best friends with Naomi Mendes and Raphael, and has a crush on April O'Neil. He is also close to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, who he considers his friends and allies. He is a very protective and caring brother to his four-year-old sister Victoria (I made up the name), but also worried about his older twin Angel.

• Character arc (my fanfic): Over the course of the story, Casey learns to balance his rebellious nature with more responsible behavior, and he gains a deeper understanding of his family and the importance of his friendships.

• Quirks or habits: Casey has a habit of chewing on the end of his hockey stick when he is deep in thought. He also loves rollerblading and often does tricks to impress his friends.

• Dialogue: Casey often speaks in a confident and sarcastic tone, with a hint of a Latin accent. He is not afraid to speak his mind and is not afraid to stand up to authority figures.

•Language and speech style: Casey speaks primarily English, but also incorporates some Spanish slang and expressions, reflecting his Latino heritage. He has a rapid, colloquial speech pattern, frequently using phrases such as "rostro", "hermano", and "de verdad".

•Internal conflicts: Casey struggles with his desire for independence and his need for approval from his father. He also deals with feelings of insecurity and fear of disappointing his family.

[aw-colorcat]

Digifake Rokingmon! Digivolution of Pajamon

Ultimate/Perfect, Data, Puppet/Plant

A towering rocking horse that skates at incredible speeds. It attacks by ensnaring its opponents with ribbons and running over them on its rockers.

[estellan0vella]

Artists, Musicians and Dreamers - Choso Kamo AU Word Count: 6.6K Content Warnings: Death Masterlist for Eras AU

You hear the rhythmic creak and clatter of the wooden floor beneath your roller skates as you glide through the old gymnasium. The place, lit by a kaleidoscope of dim, multicoloured lights, feels like a relic from another time—an '80s dreamscape preserved in amber. 

The soft hum of a cassette player filters through the air, blending with the faint echo of skates on wood and the murmur of distant conversations. You're in your element here, the smooth glide of your wheels a soothing rhythm beneath your feet.

Choso Kamo, your boyfriend, stands out in this vibrant, chaotic tableau. His tall, imposing figure is a striking contrast to the bright, glittering environment. His style is an eclectic mix of grunge and punk, a testament to his love for the underground music scene. 

Dark, ripped jeans hang low on his hips, and his band t-shirt, worn and faded, clings to his lean frame. His long, jet-black hair falls in messy waves around his face, partially obscuring the intensity in his eyes. He's the epitome of '80s grunge—raw, rebellious, and unapologetically authentic.

"Ready to dive into my world?" he asks, his voice a low, comforting rumble that sends a shiver down your spine. He extends a hand, his fingers adorned with silver rings that catch the dim light, and you take it without hesitation. There's a sense of anticipation thrumming between you, an electric charge that speaks of new experiences and shared passions.

You follow him out of the gym, your skates transitioning from the smooth wood to the rough concrete of the alley outside. The night air is cool against your skin, a welcome contrast to the warmth inside. Choso's grip on your hand is firm and reassuring as he leads you through the labyrinthine streets of the city, each turn bringing you closer to his world.

The destination is a nondescript building, its façade a patchwork of graffiti and posters advertising long-past concerts. The heavy, industrial door creaks open, and you're greeted by the thumping bass of live music and the smell of cigarette smoke and spilt beer. It's a dive bar, but to Choso, it's home—a sanctuary for those who thrive on the fringes of society.

Inside, the atmosphere is a heady mix of chaos and camaraderie. The crowd is a blend of punk rockers, metalheads, and grunge enthusiasts, each one dressed in their version of rebellion. Leather jackets, studded belts, band tees, and combat boots dominate the scene. The air is thick with the energy of a hundred different conversations, punctuated by the occasional shout or burst of laughter.

Choso navigates the crowd with ease, his presence commanding respect and recognition. People greet him with nods and fist bumps, acknowledging him as one of their own. You stay close, your skates an unusual but intriguing element in this gritty landscape.

He leads you to the bar, where the bartender—a burly man with a Mohawk and a nose ring—grins at Choso. "The usual?" he asks, already reaching for a bottle of Choso's favourite beer.

"Yeah, and something for my partner here," Choso replies, his eyes flicking to you with a soft smile. 

The bartender nods, pouring you a drink that matches the mood of the place—strong, bold, and slightly intoxicating. You take a sip, the unfamiliar taste tingling on your tongue, and glance around. The stage at the far end of the room is occupied by a band mid-performance, their music a gritty blend of distorted guitars and raw vocals. The crowd is immersed, bodies moving in time with the beat, some lost in the music, others in each other.

Choso's hand finds the small of your back, grounding you in the moment. "What do you think?" he asks, his voice close to your ear to be heard over the music.

"It's intense," you admit, your heart racing with a mix of excitement and nervousness. "But I like it."

He chuckles, the sound a low rumble that vibrates through you. "Good. There's nothing like it, is there? The energy, the freedom. It's like the music gets into your soul and shakes things loose."

You nod, feeling the truth of his words. The music here isn't just sound—it's a force, a living entity that pulses through the room and binds everyone together. It's raw and unfiltered, a reflection of the people who create and consume it.

As the night progresses, you find yourself drawn deeper into the scene. Choso introduces you to his friends, a motley crew of artists, musicians, and dreamers. Each one has a story, a reason for being here, and they welcome you with open arms. You share drinks and laughter, the initial awkwardness giving way to a sense of belonging.

At some point, Choso takes you by the hand again and leads you to the edge of the dance floor. The music is a driving force, and the crowd moves with a frenetic energy that's impossible to resist. He pulls you close, your bodies pressed together as you move in time with the beat. It's a different kind of dance than you're used to—less structured, more primal—but you find your rhythm quickly.

You lose track of time as you dance, the world outside fading away until there's nothing but the music and the feeling of Choso's body against yours. His hands are strong and steady on your hips, guiding you, grounding you. You can feel the heat of his skin through his shirt, the rapid beat of his heart matching your own.

Eventually, the band's set comes to an end, and the crowd begins to disperse, the night's energy ebbing into a more relaxed, mellow vibe. You and Choso make your way back to the bar, where he grabs another round of drinks. You find a quiet corner to sit, your bodies close, the air between you charged with shared experience.

"Thank you," you say, looking into his eyes. "For bringing me here, for sharing this with me."

He smiles, a genuine, heart-stopping smile that makes your heart skip a beat. "I'm glad you're here. I wanted you to see this part of my life, to understand what it means to me."

"I do," you reply, reaching out to touch his face, tracing the line of his jaw with your fingertips. "And I love it. I love seeing you like this, in your element."

He leans into your touch, his eyes softening. "You're amazing, you know that? You've taken everything in stride, and you fit in here like you were always meant to be."

You feel a flush of pride at his words, and you know that this night has changed something between you. It's deepened your connection, and brought you closer in a way that nothing else could. The grunge scene, with its raw energy and unfiltered expression, has become a part of your story—a chapter in the book of you and Choso.

As the night wears on, you find yourselves lingering in the bar, reluctant to let the experience end. You talk and laugh, sharing stories and dreams, the world outside forgotten. The bar, with its gritty charm and eclectic clientele, feels like a second home—a place where you can be yourselves, without judgment or pretence.

Eventually, the time comes to leave, and you lace your fingers with Choso's as you step back into the cool night air. The streets are quieter now, the frenetic energy of earlier replaced by a peaceful stillness. You skate beside him, your wheels whispering against the pavement, your heart light with the promise of new adventures.

Choso pulls you close, his arm around your shoulders as you walk. "So, when's the next time we do this?" he asks, his tone playful.

You laugh, the sound bright and carefree. "Whenever you want. I'm in."

He kisses the top of your head, a soft, tender gesture that makes you feel like the luckiest person in the world. "Good. Because I have a feeling this is just the beginning."

A few days later, you and Choso find yourselves back at the old gymnasium, the familiar creak of the wooden floor and the kaleidoscope of dim, multicoloured lights creating a nostalgic ambience. The place feels like a comforting cocoon, a timeless bubble where the outside world fades away.

Choso, dressed in his usual grunge attire—this time with an added touch of uncertainty—looks around, taking in the environment. His confidence from the dive bar seems a bit shaky here, but there's a spark of determination in his eyes.

"You sure about this?" he asks, glancing down at the rented roller skates on his feet, the laces slightly askew.

You smile, adjusting your own skates with ease. "Absolutely. Trust me, it's going to be fun. And besides, you already look great," you tease, knowing his edgy style stands out even more against the retro backdrop.

He snorts, shaking his head with a grin. "If you say so."

Taking his hand, you lead him to the rink. The smooth, polished wood beneath your wheels feels like an old friend, and you glide effortlessly, while Choso stumbles slightly, trying to find his balance.

"Okay, first things first," you say, turning to face him. "Bend your knees a bit and keep your feet shoulder-width apart. It'll help with balance."

He nods, following your instructions, though the expression on his face is a mix of concentration and trepidation. You can't help but giggle a little, finding his determination endearing.

"Now, I'm going to skate backwards and hold your hands," you explain, taking his hands in yours. "Just follow my lead and trust me."

He tightens his grip on your hands, his fingers still adorned with those silver rings that catch the dim light. "Alright, lead the way, coach."

You start to move backwards, your movements smooth and fluid, guiding Choso gently. He takes tentative steps, his skates clattering awkwardly against the floor. Despite his best efforts, his balance wavers, and he stumbles, nearly taking you down with him.

"Whoa, easy there!" you laugh, steadying him. "You're doing great. Just keep your eyes on me and try to relax."

He exhales, a mix of frustration and amusement on his face. "This is harder than it looks."

You grin, your eyes sparkling. "You'll get the hang of it. Just take it slow."

You continue to guide him, his steps gradually becoming more confident, though still far from graceful. Every now and then, he loses his balance, and you both burst into laughter, the sound echoing through the empty gymnasium.

At one point, Choso misjudges his footing and falls backwards, landing on his butt with a thud. You can't help but double over in laughter, the sight of your usually composed boyfriend sprawled on the floor too funny to resist.

"Okay, okay," he groans, rubbing his backside. "I think the rink might have won this round."

You skate over to him, extending a hand to help him up. "Come on, tough guy. Let's try again."

He takes your hand, a rueful smile on his lips. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Maybe a little," you admit, pulling him to his feet. "But only because you're doing so well."

"Right," he says, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. "Well, lead on, coach."

You resume your backward skating, holding his hands and guiding him. Despite the falls and the stumbles, Choso's determination doesn't waver, and you can't help but admire his persistence. Gradually, he starts to find his rhythm, his movements becoming more fluid, though still far from perfect.

After a while, you pause, letting go of his hands. "Alright, let's see if you can do it on your own for a bit."

He takes a deep breath, nodding. "Here goes nothing."

He takes a few tentative steps, wobbling but managing to stay upright. You watch with a mixture of pride and amusement as he makes his way around the rink, his movements clumsy but steadily improving. When he completes a full lap without falling, you cheer, clapping your hands.

"See? I knew you could do it!"

He skates over to you, a triumphant grin on his face. "Well, I had a pretty great teacher."

You laugh, wrapping your arms around him. "And you make a pretty great student."

He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Thanks for this. It's been fun, even if I'm terrible at it."

"You'll get better," you assure him, feeling a warm flush of happiness. "And until then, I'll be here to catch you when you fall."

He pulls you close, his eyes filled with affection. "Sounds like a pretty good deal to me."

The months fly by after that unforgettable night at the dive bar, each one drawing you and Choso closer together and deeper into his world. You attend more of his underground gigs, supporting him and his band as they carve out a niche for themselves in the local music scene. 

Choso's presence on stage is magnetic, his raw energy and emotion captivating audiences. You watch with pride as he pours his heart into every performance, his music a powerful force that resonates with everyone who hears it.

Choso, Ethan, Jake, and Sara become more than just a band—they're a family. The camaraderie between them is palpable, and you feel privileged to be part of their journey. You're there for every milestone, from their first EP release to their first sold-out show. 

The band, now called "Reverie in Ruin," gains traction quickly, their gritty, authentic sound striking a chord with fans. Choso's talent as a frontman is undeniable, his voice a blend of gravel and silk that carries the weight of his lyrics. 

You see the way people look at him, the admiration and awe in their eyes, and you can't help but feel a surge of pride. This is your Choso, the man who stumbled around a roller rink with you, now commanding the stage like he was born to do it.

The night of their first EP release is electric. The small venue is packed, the air buzzing with anticipation. You stand at the side of the stage, watching as the band prepares to go on. Choso catches your eye, and despite the nerves that you know must be coursing through him, he gives you a reassuring smile.

"We've got this," he says, his voice steady. "Thanks for always believing in us."

"Always," you reply, squeezing his hand. "Go out there and show them what Reverie in Ruin is all about."

The lights dim, and the crowd erupts in cheers as the band takes the stage. From the first note, it's clear that this night is something special. Choso's voice cuts through the noise, raw and powerful, drawing the audience in. You watch as he loses himself in the music, his passion radiating from every pore.

After the show, the band gathers backstage, adrenaline still pumping. There's a sense of euphoria in the air, a recognition that they've just achieved something incredible.

"We did it," Ethan says, his face flushed with excitement. "Our first EP is out there."

"And people loved it," Sara adds, her eyes shining. "Did you see the crowd? They were with us every step of the way."

Choso turns to you, his eyes softening. "Thank you for being here. For always being here."

You smile, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "I wouldn't be anywhere else."

Their first sold-out show is a turning point. The venue is larger, the stakes higher. The band has worked tirelessly, and it shows in their polished performance. The crowd is a sea of faces, all there for Reverie in Ruin. You can feel the energy, the anticipation, and the overwhelming support for the band.

Backstage, Choso is a mix of nerves and excitement. You help him adjust his stage outfit, his hands trembling slightly.

"Hey," you say, taking his hands in yours. "You've got this. You've always had this."

He looks at you, his eyes filled with determination. "I know. And knowing you're out there, it makes it easier."

The show is a triumph. The band is in perfect sync, each member feeding off the energy of the others. Choso's voice soars, his presence commanding. The crowd is mesmerized, hanging on every note, every word. As you watch from the wings, you feel a sense of pride that's almost overwhelming. This is your Choso, your band, and they're conquering the world.

After the show, the band is surrounded by well-wishers, friends, and fans. The excitement is palpable, the joy infectious. Choso finds you in the crowd, pulling you into a tight embrace.

"We did it," he says, his voice choked with emotion. "We really did it."

"No you did it," You say with a smile. 

Despite his growing fame, Choso remains grounded. He never loses sight of what's important, always making time for you amidst the chaos. Your bond only strengthens as you navigate this new chapter together. You become his anchor, the steady presence that keeps him balanced as he rides the waves of success.

One evening, after a long day of rehearsals, you find yourselves back at the roller rink. The familiar creak of the wooden floor and the kaleidoscope of dim, multicoloured lights create a nostalgic ambience. It's a rare moment of peace, a chance to reconnect with the simplicity that first brought you together.

"Remember when I could barely stay upright on these things?" Choso says, lacing up his skates.

You laugh, tightening your own laces. "I do. You've come a long way since then."

He stands, a bit wobbly at first, but soon finds his balance. You take his hand, leading him onto the rink. The music is a soft hum in the background, the lights casting gentle shadows as you glide together.

"These moments," he says, his voice soft. "They keep me grounded. They remind me of what's real, what's important."

You smile, squeezing his hand. "And I'll always be here to remind you. No matter how big Reverie in Ruin gets, no matter where this journey takes us."

He leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You'll never find out," You giggle, leaning against him.

The band's success continues to grow, each achievement bringing you closer together. Through every high and low, you and Choso remain a team, facing the challenges of fame with unwavering support for each other. 

The dive bars and roller rinks are replaced by larger venues and bigger stages, but the essence of what brought you together remains unchanged. The love you share and the passion for your respective crafts keep you grounded, no matter how high the fame climbs.

One night, after a particularly intense show, the energy of the crowd still buzzing in Choso's veins, you find yourselves alone in a quiet backstage room. The noise of the audience fades, leaving just the two of you in a moment of rare solitude. The room is dimly lit, the glow of the city outside casting soft shadows across the walls.

Choso leans against a worn sofa, his hair damp with sweat, his breathing still heavy from the performance. You sit beside him, your hand finding his, fingers intertwining.

"Do you ever get scared?" Choso asks, his voice barely above a whisper, filled with a vulnerability he seldom shows. "That this could all go away?"

You turn to look at him, seeing the uncertainty in his eyes, the weight of his fears laid bare. You squeeze his hand, offering silent reassurance before speaking. "Sometimes," you admit softly. "But then I remember that it's not just about the fame or the success. It's about your music, the passion, and the love we have for each other. As long as we have that, we'll be okay."

He nods, his eyes searching yours for comfort. "You're right. It's just... it's hard sometimes. The pressure, the expectations. It feels like we're always one mistake away from losing everything."

You brush a strand of hair from his face, your touch gentle. "I know it's scary. But look at what we've accomplished together. Every step of the way, we've faced challenges and come out stronger. We have each other, and that's what matters most."

Choso pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around you, his breath warm against your neck. "You're my rock," he murmurs. "Without you, I don't think I could do this."

You smile, feeling the love in his embrace. "And you're mine. We balance each other, Choso. We make each other better."

He pulls back slightly, looking into your eyes. "Promise me something?"

"Anything," you reply, your heart full.

"Promise me that no matter what happens, we'll always support each other. That we'll never let the world tear us apart."

You lean in, your forehead resting against his. "I promise. No matter what happens, we'll always stand by each other."

He smiles, a genuine, heartfelt smile that lights up his face. "Thank you. That means everything to me."

You kiss him softly, your lips lingering on his. "I love you, Choso. And I believe in you. In us."

He sighs, contentment washing over him. "I love you too. More than words can say. Not even death could part us right?"

A shiver runs down your spine at the intensity of his words, but you hold his gaze, unwavering. "Right," you whisper, your voice steady. "Not even death could part us."

Touring is a whirlwind of new experiences. The band travels from city to city, their fanbase expanding with every performance. You join them on the road whenever you can. The other band members have come to see you as part of the team, your unwavering support and positive energy are a crucial element of their success.

You and Choso share late-night conversations on the tour bus, talking about everything from music to your dreams for the future. There are times when the exhaustion catches up with him, and you find yourself holding him close, reassuring him that he's not alone in this journey.

One night, after an especially electric performance, the adrenaline still buzzing in the air, Choso pulls you aside backstage. The distant roar of the crowd lingers, a reminder of the magic just created on stage. His eyes are bright with excitement, but there's also a hint of vulnerability there, a raw openness that makes your heart ache with love.

"I've been thinking," he says, his voice low and serious, cutting through the muffled chaos around you. "About the future. About us."

You take his hand, squeezing it gently. "What about it?" you ask, your voice soft and encouraging.

He takes a deep breath, his thumb brushing over your knuckles, a nervous habit you've come to recognize. "I want you by my side, always. This life, this crazy, chaotic life, it's nothing without you. I want us to be together, no matter what."

Your heart swells at his words, tears springing to your eyes. "I want that too, Choso. More than anything."

He smiles, relief and happiness washing over his features, the tension in his shoulders easing. "Good. Because I can't imagine doing this without you."

You step closer, your hands cupping his face, the warmth of his skin grounding you in the moment. "We'll figure it out together," you whisper, your voice trembling with emotion. "Whatever comes our way, we'll face it as a team."

Choso wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. "I love you," he murmurs against your hair, his voice thick with emotion. "I don't think I say it enough, but I do. So much."

You cling to him, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your chest. "I love you too, Choso. More than words can say."

The world around you fades away as you stand there, wrapped in each other's arms. The sounds of the crew packing up, the distant chatter of fans, all become background noise to the intensity of the moment.

"Promise me something," Choso says, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes. "Promise me that no matter how crazy things get, we'll always find our way back to each other."

You nod, your heart full. "I promise. No matter what happens, we'll always have each other."

He smiles, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "That's all I need to hear."

The rest of the night is a blur of celebrations and shared glances, each one filled with the promise of a future together. As the band members toast to another successful show, you and Choso exchange a knowing look, a silent affirmation of the vows you just made.

Later, as you lie in the small bunk on the tour bus, tangled together in the quiet darkness, Choso's fingers trace lazy patterns on your back.

"I can't wait to see where this journey takes us," he murmurs, his voice a soothing rumble in the night.

"Me too," you whisper, pressing a kiss to his chest. "As long as we're together, I know it'll be amazing."

Reverie in Ruin reaches new heights, their debut album breaking into the mainstream and receiving critical acclaim. Choso's face starts appearing on magazine covers, his name becoming synonymous with the revival of grunge. Despite the fame, he remains humble, always crediting his bandmates and you for his success. You gain your own fame as his Rollerblade Princess, becoming a model and actress known for your grace and talent.

One evening, as you watch the band prepare for another sold-out show, Choso pulls you into a quiet corner of the dressing room. His eyes are intense, filled with a mix of excitement and nervousness.

"There's something I need to ask you," he says, his voice trembling slightly.

You look at him, your heart pounding. "What is it?"

He takes a deep breath, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small, velvet box. Your breath catches in your throat as he opens it, revealing a simple but beautiful ring. The delicate band sparkles in the dim light, a perfect symbol of your love.

"I know things are crazy right now," he begins, his voice steady despite the emotion in his eyes. "But I love you more than anything. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?"

Tears stream down your face as you nod, barely able to speak. "Yes, Choso. Yes, I will."

He slips the ring onto your finger, his hands shaking slightly. The room erupts in cheers as Choso's bandmates realize what's happening, their congratulations a blur as you and Choso share a kiss, sealing your promise to each other. His lips are warm and familiar, a perfect match to the overwhelming joy you feel.

Later that night, after the adrenaline of the show and the excitement of your engagement have begun to settle, you find yourselves alone on the tour bus. The city lights flicker outside the window, casting a soft glow over Choso's features.

"I can't believe this is real," you say, looking down at the ring on your finger. "We're really getting married."

Choso wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. "Believe it, Princess. We're making our dreams come true."

The engagement brings a new sense of joy and excitement. Your relationship deepens, the bond between you and Choso becomes even stronger. You support each other through the challenges and triumphs, always finding strength in your love.

One afternoon, while relaxing in your shared apartment, you discuss your future plans. The sun filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. You and Choso are nestled on the couch, a cosy blanket draped over you.

"Do you ever think about where we'll be in five, ten years?" you ask, resting your head on Choso's shoulder.

"All the time," he replies, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your arm. "I see me still making music, and you making movies, still following our passions. Maybe even starting a family."

You smile at the thought, the warmth of his touch soothing. "I like that vision. A little chaotic, but full of love and music."

"Exactly," he says, kissing the top of your head. "And no matter what, we'll always have each other."

You lift your head to look at him, your eyes meeting his. "Do you really want to start a family someday?"

Choso nods, a soft smile playing on his lips. "I do. I want to create a life with you, filled with laughter and music. I want to see our children running around, maybe teaching them to play instruments or skate."

The image fills your heart with warmth. "I love that idea. I can see us having a little girl who loves to sing and a boy who can't get enough of your guitar."

Choso's eyes light up at the thought. "And we'll support them, just like we've supported each other. We'll be their biggest fans."

You lean in to kiss him, your lips meeting his in a tender moment that feels like a promise. "I'm so lucky to have you, Choso."

He pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around you protectively. "No, I'm the lucky one. You make everything better, and I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you."

As you sit together, dreaming of the future, the love between you grows even stronger. Your journey is just beginning, and you know that no matter what challenges come your way, you'll face them together. The future is bright, filled with love, music, and endless possibilities.

The headlines hit like a thunderclap, echoing through the world and shattering the lives of those who knew and loved you. "Prince of Grunge and His Roller Rink Princess Dead in Tragic Car Crash." The news spreads like wildfire, a sombre note striking the hearts of fellow celebrities, fans, and friends alike.

The night of the crash is supposed to be a celebration. The band has just signed a major record deal, a milestone that promises to take them to even greater heights. The party is lively, filled with music, laughter, and the intoxicating promise of a bright future. You and Choso, hand in hand, are the center of it all, your love story a beacon of hope in the often tumultuous world of rock and roll.

As the night winds down, the energy starts to fade, and you decide to leave the party early, craving a quiet moment away from the chaos.

"Let's get out of here," you whisper into Choso's ear, a smile playing on your lips.

Choso nods, squeezing your hand. "Yeah, let's go somewhere just for us."

He insists on driving, despite the late hour and the fatigue that's etched into both your bones. You don't protest; there's something reassuring about the familiar hum of the road and the presence of the man you love beside you.

The drive is peaceful at first, the city lights blurring into a comforting haze. You talk about the future, about the music you'll create and the adventures you'll share. Choso's hand is warm in yours, his voice a soothing melody that lulls you into a sense of security.

"I can't wait to record the new songs," Choso says, glancing over at you with a smile. "We're going to blow everyone away."

You smile back, your heart swelling with love and pride. "And I can't wait to see you on stage again. You're incredible, you know that?"

He chuckles, his thumb gently rubbing the back of your hand. "Only because you believe in me."

But in an instant, everything changes. A flash of headlights, the screech of tires, and the sickening crunch of metal against metal. The world spins out of control, your screams lost in the cacophony of the crash.

"Choso!" you scream, your voice filled with terror.

"Hold on!" he shouts back, his hand gripping the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles white with strain.

The impact is brutal. The car jolts violently, metal crumpling like paper. Your head snaps forward, the seatbelt cutting painfully into your shoulder. The air is filled with the sound of shattering glass and the agonizing groan of twisting metal. You reach out for Choso, your fingers just brushing his before the world goes dark.

When the chaos finally stills, the silence is deafening. You feel Choso's hand slip from yours, a cold dread settling over you like a shroud. The wreckage around you is a twisted mess of steel and shattered glass, a stark contrast to the vibrant life you once shared.

"Choso," you whisper, your voice weak and trembling. "Choso, please..."

There's no response. Panic grips you, your chest tightening as you struggle to move. Pain radiates through your body, every breath a battle. Your vision swims with tears, blurring the grim reality before you.

"Choso," you plead again, your voice breaking, tears streaming down your face. "Don't leave me. Please, don't leave me."

You reach out, your fingers trembling as they find his hand. It's cold, unmoving. The realization hits you like a punch to the gut, the world around you blurring into a haze of pain and despair. Choso's lifeless form is slumped against the seat, his eyes closed, his breathing nonexistent.

Sirens wail in the distance, growing louder with each passing second. The red and blue lights cut through the darkness, casting an eerie glow on the wreckage. Paramedics and firefighters swarm the scene, their movements urgent and precise.

"Stay with us," a paramedic says, his voice distant as you fade in and out of consciousness. "We're here to help."

The paramedics work frantically, cutting through the mangled metal to reach you and Choso. You feel hands on you, gentle but firm, checking for injuries, applying pressure to your wounds. The pain is overwhelming, and darkness edges your vision.

"She's fading! Get the defibrillator!" one of the paramedics shouts, his voice urgent.

You hear the frantic beeping of medical equipment, the clatter of tools, and the hushed urgency of the rescuers. Your body feels heavy, each breath a struggle. Blood stains the inside of the oxygen mask covering your mouth and nose as you cough, the metallic taste filling your mouth.

"Clear!" someone yells, and you feel a jolt of electricity surge through your body.

Your vision blurs further, the sounds around you becoming more distant. The pain is a constant, throbbing presence, but it's fading, too. Your fingers, still entwined with Choso's, feel numb.

The paramedics' faces are strained with determination and fear. They work tirelessly, but the hope in their eyes dims as your vital signs weaken. The darkness closes in, and you feel the life slipping away, leaving behind the echoes of what once was.

As your eyes close for the final time, the last thing you hear is the muffled, desperate call for a second shock.

In the days and weeks that follow, your story becomes a legend. The "Prince of Grunge" and his "Roller Rink Princess" are immortalized in the hearts of those who loved Choso's music, your acting prowess, the love between the two of you, and your unwavering spirits. The crash that took both of your lives becomes a tragic symbol of the fleeting nature of fame and the enduring power of love.

The band, though devastated, decides to continue in your honour. Their performances become tributes, filled with the raw emotion and dedication that characterized their early days. They vow to keep your memory alive, dedicating every show to you and Choso.

A tribute concert is held, drawing thousands of fans and fellow musicians who come together to celebrate your lives and the impact you had on the world. The stage is adorned with images of you and Choso, your love story a beacon of hope and resilience. As Choso's songs about you play through the stadium, videos of your happiest moments together are projected on a large screen.

As the concert begins, the band takes the stage, a solemn but determined look in their eyes. The crowd erupts in cheers and applause, a wave of sound that speaks to the love and admiration they hold for you both.

Each song is a journey through your life together. As the haunting notes of "They Write Songs About Girls Like You" fill the air, images of your early days—meeting at the roller rink, late-night drives, and intimate moments—flash across the screen. Fans sing along, their voices blending with the music in a beautiful, poignant tribute.

When "Roller Rink Royalty" plays, the atmosphere shifts to one of celebration. The screen shows clips of you and Choso skating together, laughing, and sharing stolen kisses. The energy in the stadium is electric, a testament to the joy and love you brought into each other's lives.

As the final notes of "Not Even Death Could Part Us" fade into the night, the crowd stands in silent tribute, candles flickering in the darkness as they show a video that had been filmed of you and Choso merely hours before the crash. The band members, joined by fellow musicians, form a line at the front of the stage, holding hands and bowing their heads in respect.

Your legacy lives on in the hearts and minds of those who carry your story forward. The music continues to inspire, offering comfort and hope to those who listen. Your love story becomes a symbol of resilience and the enduring power of love, proving that even in the face of tragedy, beauty and connection can prevail.

In the end, your story is one of love, passion, and an unbreakable bond that defied the odds. Though your lives were cut tragically short, the impact you had on each other and the world around you is immeasurable. The "Prince of Grunge" and his "Rollerblade Princess" may be gone, but your spirits live on in the music, the memories, and the hearts of those who will never forget the beautiful, chaotic, and unforgettable journey you shared.

Your story reminds everyone that love and music have the power to transcend even the greatest of tragedies, leaving a lasting legacy that will be remembered and cherished for generations to come.

In the following days, fans from all over the world gather at makeshift memorials, leaving flowers, candles, and handwritten notes. Social media is flooded with tributes, photos, and memories of you and Choso. Your love story becomes a symbol of hope and inspiration, a testament to the enduring power of love and the fleeting nature of life.

The band channels their grief into their music, pouring their hearts and souls into every performance. Each concert becomes a cathartic release, a way to honor your memory and keep your spirit alive. Fans, old and new, come together in solidarity, finding comfort and strength in the music that once brought you and Choso so much joy.

In the months that follow, a documentary is released, chronicling your journey from the early days of the band to the night of the crash. It captures the highs and lows, the love and laughter, the passion and pain. The film becomes an instant classic, a poignant reminder of the beautiful, chaotic, and unforgettable lives you led.

A foundation is established in your names, dedicated to supporting aspiring musicians and actors. Scholarships are awarded, and mentorship programs are created, ensuring that your legacy of creativity and passion lives on in future generations. The foundation's annual gala becomes a star-studded event, a celebration of your lives and the impact you had on the world.

In the years to come, your story continues to resonate with people from all walks of life. Your love, your music, and your unwavering spirits serve as a reminder that even in the face of tragedy, there is beauty and hope. Your legacy lives on in the hearts and minds of those who carry your story forward, proving that love and music have the power to transcend even the greatest of tragedies.

The "Prince of Grunge" and his "Roller Rink Princess" may be gone, but your spirits live on in the music, the memories, and the hearts of those who will never forget the beautiful, chaotic, and unforgettable journey you shared. Your story becomes a legend, a timeless tale of love, passion, and the enduring power of the human spirit.

taglist: @sad-darksoul @lik0

[teadreamsims]

Kathleen Carter for @adoringsentiment 's Lovestruck Challenge ❤️

Basic info:

26y/o

Freelance fashion photographer

She/Her

Pansexual

Kathleen is a girl who loves fashion and loves photography even more. For her, getting behind a camera and capturing the beauty of her subjects and their style is her comfort and her passion. However, sometimes being behind the camera means she's somewhat invisible. She just wants a partner who sees behind the camera and makes her feel seen and loved and appreciated.

Over the years, she's had issues with her anger getting the best of her, but yoga and meditation seem to help her a lot with that. Thank god she's got that free spa membership so she doesn't have to pay for classes.

A strong believer in ethical fashion, Kathleen also refuses to contribute to fast fashion and instead can often be found in thrift and charity shops. Anything that's not been thrifted at Thrift Tea has been bought secondhand on Vinted. So, she loves a thrift shopping date at Thrift Tea. Other dates she enjoys include spa dates, bowling, rock climbing, skating, and going to nightclubs or bars to show off her dance moves. She can't wait to see if she gets chosen by Frankie for a shot at a date or two!

Likes:

Black, green, pink.

Alternative, spooky, s-pop music.

Rock climbing, bowling, photography, wellness skills.

Physical intimacy, flirtation, deep thoughts, discussing interests, gossip, complaints.

Basic, hipster, rocker fashion.

Cerebral, hardworking, pessimistic, emotional decision makers, romance enthusiasts, nature enthusiasts.

Dislikes:

Tween pop, electronica, kids music.

Cooking, gaming, violin skills.

Malicious, pranks, deception, small talk.

Ambitionless, egotistical, homebody, rascal sims.

Outfits:

[sonic-adventure-3]

wait, there are different types of skates??? what are the different types?

yeah there’s a ton of different kinds!

the first major distinction when talking about skates is of course ice skates vs wheeled skates. i presume you’re asking about wheeled skates, so i’ll jump right into the second major distinction, quad skates vs inline skates.

quad skates are more commonly known as roller skates. inline skates are also technically a kind of roller skate, but culturally they’re rather different, and quad skates are what you think of when you hear the term. quad skates have four wheels on each skate, paired in two sets of two creating a rectangular arrangement, like a car, or most things that have four wheels lol.

inline skates are also known as rollerblades, but rollerblade is actually just the most well-known company that produces inline skates. inline skates can have anywhere from 2-4 wheels per skate (even as many as 5, or in rare cases, 6, though the most common you’ll see have 4), arranged in a straight line underneath the boot.

i’m an inline skate geek so those are what i like talking about, and what i know significantly more about, so i’ll continue talking about all the various types of inline skates under the cut!

first off: recreational skates. they’re also called beginner skates or hobby skates or sometimes fitness skates, but along with “recreational skates” those are more so terms used by people who use other kinds of more specialized skates. often just called inline skates in most storefronts, the only thing that really defines rec skates is that they aren’t any kind of other skate. as such, they vary widely in design but generally have softer wheels that provide a smoother ride but wear down faster, and a brake that attaches to the heel of your dominant foot skate. they’re your ordinary, basic, more beginner friendly skate meant for general, non-intensive use.

one common distinction among them is soft boot vs hard boot. soft boots are where the boot part of the skate is soft and flexible, making them significantly more comfortable, however they don’t offer as much support and can wear down quickly with any intensive use. hard boots are where the boot part of the skate is a hard shell, which are less comfortable and take time to break in, but are more supportive and last a longer time. the two images above of inline skates are soft boot and hard boot respectively.

what’s probably the next most common kind of skate: city skates. also known as urban skates or freeskates, but that last one can be confusing. these skates are designed to be ridden at fast speeds through varied city environments, and as such are more durable, faster, more manoeuverable, and provide more support than recreational skates. they’re built to survive some jumps and stair-bashes and nasty falls. the skates above have a three wheel setup, but both four and three wheels are very common. four wheels are more manoeuvrable, but three wheels are faster and can traverse rougher surfaces, generally.

slalom skates are confusing. they’re also called freestyle skates, as well as freeskates or city skates, because slalom skates are sometimes just city skates with different wheels, or are sometimes fully a different thing.

slalom skates that are specifically designed for freestyle slaloming, the sport of manoeuvring between closely set small cones with figure skating-esque spins and jumps, are less durable than city skates and are more flexible, giving less support but more agility. they have smaller softer wheels arranged with a rockered frame that raises the very front and back wheels, which give more traction and agility in the usually indoor or very even outdoor pavement skating areas.

they’re quite niche, have few companies dedicated to making them, and are generally quite expensive though, so regular city skates or city skates outfitted with similar wheel setups are also common, often more common than specialty slalom skates. hence why the distinction between freeskates and freestyle skates can be very confusing.

aggressive skates blissfully don’t have any other names, they’re (almost.) always known as aggressive skates. they’re designed for various tricks, jumps, and crucially, grinds. they’re significantly heavier and bulkier than other skates in order to protect the wearer, and the bottom of the skates are flat and outfitted with a soul plate that allows for creative grinds. the frames also have a groove in the center to allow for even more kinds of grinds.

aggressive skates always have either 2 or 4 wheels. the one above has four wheels, but there are also setups that replace the inner two wheels with anti-rocker wheels, small plastic wheels that don’t touch the ground, and freestyle frames that have nothing between the front and back wheel at all in various styles, most commonly a sort of triangular groove. both are designed to reduce or completely remove wheel bite found in flat (four wheel) setups, which is when wheels get in the way of grinding and kill your momentum or stop you from sliding. as such, anti-rocker and freestyle setups are significantly easier to grind with, but struggle a lot in doing anything else, notably general handling, wheel durability, and speed. whereas flat setups have a significantly more difficult time grinding, but perform completely fine in almost all other areas. anti-rocker setups are by far the most popular of them all.

i’d say that recreational skates, city skates, and aggressive skates are the most common kinds of inline skate, but there are other even nicher kinds as well.

there are speed skates, designed for going as fast as possible. they have no ankle support whatsoever to allow for maximum agility, and huge wheels and wheel bases for going fast. there are marathon skates, very similar to speed skates except with far more ankle support so you don’t hurt yourself as readily traversing long distances fast.

there are inline figure skates and hockey skates. which fully and genuinely are just their respective kind of ice skate with wheels. they’re mainly used by ice skaters in the off-season, though they do have some support as separate sports, particularly inline hockey.

and finally, there are off-road skates. these bad boys look absolutely stupid with their huge TIRES. not even normal wheels but TIRES. they come in various styles including some that are powered and attach to your normal shoes. they’re absolutely wild all around and i love them.

that’s just about all the kinds of inline skates that i know of, but there may be kinds that i missed or further subcategories or distinctions i’m unaware of. also requisite disclaimer: i am not an expert, i don’t have too much experience actually skating, i just like skates a lot and read about them sometimes. thus, please take my words with a grain of salt.

thanks for reading!

[levelofyoureye]

As Regulus skates to the edge of the rink and swivels around himself, preparing for his step sequence, he does his absolute best to slow down and take in the lyrics. He takes in a deep breath as he steps into his first move, a forward inside loop around himself. He absolutely needs to nail this—he hasn’t exactly had a good run-through thus far. Between the turn-out from the triple toe-triple toe combination, the step out from his triple flip, and just barely hanging onto his double axel landing, his constant fight for a clean skate persists. He knows he can jump better than this, knows that making it to sectionals is dependent on it, and yet he still can’t just do it already. As he cycles through steps, from rocker to bracket to counter to loop to twizzle and back again, he tries to keep the component score at the forefront of his mind instead of freaking out over the technical elements. Be better at what everyone else lacks, he thinks, making sure not to shy away from the presentation factor. He does his best to look like he is having the time of his life as his step sequence ends, instead of looking like he’s trying his absolute best not to run off the ice.

happy cold feet saturday sunday!! excited for you all to read this chapter :)

[malinowaj]

i knew it would happen and as if on cue, as soon as the season is properly starting my brain goes "so hey what about a wilmon figure skating AU". i hate my brain. hoping that throwing this into the void will make me forget about it. (and not expand the sort of plot i spent an hour thinking about. i need to stop with sports AUs.)

Simon is running late. His shift at the coffee shop had run over due to the torrential downpour that made his coworker come in late. Meaning Simon had missed the first bus to the rink and as he jogged towards the door, dodging the growing puddles, he was starting to feel irritated. He had the last slot of the day, the sorry-but-there-really-isn’t-any-other-time-available-for-you slot, even though Simon knew very well the two slots before his were never booked. The last slot, which meant that if he wanted to do any sort of cooldown, he’d need to cut his ice time short before the alarms went on. So, now he was going to miss valuable ice time even more than normally.

He threw his bag on the dressing room bench and hastily pulled on his running shoes and the hoodie that was a little too warm to wear to work but perfect at the cold rink. Running up and down the hallway he warmed up his muscles as best as he could. His coach would kill him if he skipped a thorough warmup and Simon had been skating long enough to know he’d only hurt himself if he didn’t do things properly. 

Eventually he made his way back to the dressing room to pick up his skates and pushed the door leading to the ice open. What he did not expect was to hear music. The slot before his was never booked. Never. And besides, this was his slot already; even if he was a bit - or a lot - late it didn’t mean someone could just hijack the ice time he’d paid for. 

As the last notes of Masquerade Waltz faded into silence he could hear the familiar sound of someone skidding to a halt on the ice. The last slot meant Simon never got pristine ice to skate on, so did this person really have to send the chips of ice flying around, making it even rougher for him. Simon gritted his teeth as he marched towards the bench.

As he reached the bench he spotted the person on the ice. Of course. Of fucking course. As if the week hadn’t been terrible enough already. As if he hadn’t had to tolerate the man for hours already. He sat down on the bench and kicked off his running shoes all the while watching Wilhelm pick up speed and launch himself in the air. Simon gritted his teeth even harder when Wilhelm landed a little ungracefully, the marks of his jump clearly visible on the ice. For someone who’d never need it, Wilhelm did have a surprisingly good triple axel, Simon found himself musing as he laced up his boots. 

Pulling the laces tight and tucking them to make sure they wouldn’t come loose while he skated, Simon watched as Wilhelm skated to the other end of the rink and started the step sequence. He stumbled a little on his second rocker, falling a beat behind as the music continued to blare from the small loudspeaker. Simon’s music, he only now realized. Wilhelm was skating his program. His choreography. The audacity of the other man made anger surge through Simon. 

Simon threw the blade covers on the bench and yanked the door open. He’ll show Wilhelm how to skate that step sequence. He’ll make Wilhelm regret trying to copy Simon’s movements.