Nannasaur

Clara’s got her hands clasped together to enhance this begging she’s doing. This definitely wasn’t what you expected when you told her you might not go to parent-teacher conference. You grimace and lean over the kitchen island, a way to get on her eye level where she’s sitting on the other side of it.

“Are you sure? I thought we could have a girls’ day out. It’s our only day off together until Thanksgiving break, y’know.”

She waves your comment away. Even adds a scoff to it. You throw a brow up, because how couldn’t you? Kid’s really developing an attitude. Probably got it from you, though, so it’s not like you can complain.

“Don’t worry about it. We can do that stuff over the weekend. I really want you to go this time!”

“Did you want me to beat up your Algebra teacher or something?”

“I mean, I won’t complain if you do that,” she grumbles. She really doesn’t like that guy. Maybe you should beat him up just for giving her so much grief about her grade. She tried really hard. That guy just has a stick up his ass or something.

“But I want you to meet Dr. Grace. He’s my favorite teacher this year, and I think you’ll like him a lot.”

You press your mouth into a thin line when she says that, but your contemplative look doesn’t last long. It twists and turns, the corners of your lips tilting upward just a bit. She’s never asked you to go to one of these for a specific teacher.

“Really?”

“Yes! He’s super cool!”

“Do you have a crush on him or something?” you tease. Her entire body tenses up when she cringes at your joke. It makes you laugh.

“Oh, God, ew! No!”

“I’m just kidding!” you insist through your laughter. She huffs and crosses her arms over her chest. Rolls her eyes and shakes her head. Definitely got her attitude from you.

“Dr. Grace makes science make sense. Not a lot of my science teachers have been good at that.”

You hum after your laughter dies down. Your smile lingers. A couple seconds later, you extend your pinky.

“Fine. I’ll go just to meet Dr. Grace, but you owe me a girls’ day out this Saturday.”

Clara practically starts vibrating with excitement from how you agreed. She throws her pinky out to you and hooks it with yours, grinning so hard you’re worried her face will get stuck like that.

“Yes, I swear! Thanks, Mom!”

Now, here you are, lost in this big ass school, searching for the science wing so you can find the elusive Dr. Grace that your kid’s obsessed with. Before you left this morning, she promoted him to the best teacher she’s ever had. That piqued your interest. She’s usually obsessed with her History teachers.

Is she obsessed with him because he’s weird? Very likely. She’s usually interested in the eclectic teachers. What if he’s some kind of crazy? A psychopath with a teaching certificate? One of those insane wackos who jump on desks and flail around and somehow manage to get incredible test scores?

You let your thoughts run wild as you round the corner and enter the science wing you’ve been looking for for the last 5 minutes. Who fucking knows what you’re about to walk into. Clara’s got a sneaky sense of humor, which means she could totally be setting you up to meet a teacher she knows you’ll hate.

While you’re hesitantly walking down the wing, your eyes fall on each little blue nameplate outside each door. A number and a name on each one, and yet none of them have the name you’re looking for. Clara should have just came with you to show you to the classroom, but you were nice enough to let her sleep in.

So much for your kindness.

If it wasn’t for the final nameplate that said DR. R. GRACE right at the end of the hallway, you’d have left. Classroom number 220. Why the hell is 220 on the first floor? Who designs a school like this?

You peek through one of the big windows embedded in the classroom wall, and shock replaces your irks about the layout of the building. When you see the person sitting at the desk within the classroom, you’re taken aback. Surely, this man isn’t Clara’s teacher.

He’s bent over his desk and scratching red pen marks on the paper in front of him, but you can still see a decent amount of his face. He looks so young for a doctor. Maybe he’s a little older than you, but his messy blonde hair and overall bright facial expression make him look like a picture of youth.

His glasses slip down his nose and force him to push them up, giving you a good look at his arm. At his toned forearm. At his surprisingly large bicep. At the way that his t-shirt is practically strangling that surprisingly large bicep. At the dorky graphic on the t-shirt that you can’t see clear enough from here; one that you can tell is some kind of science joke.

When he straightens at his desk to stretch a little, you get a glimpse at that shirt. Black. Relatively tight. Features a white graphic of ramp with a ball at the bottom of it. Says “I HAD POTENTIAL” at the top of it.

“No fucking way,” you whisper to yourself. You even laugh. Clara’s teacher isn’t this super cute guy with that insanely cheesy t-shirt on. This is some sort of teaching assistant, or…a student teacher, maybe?

But she never mentioned a student teacher or a teaching assistant. Perhaps this is a teacher who lost his way. Or some random guy that snuck in and is cosplaying as a teacher. Concerning for school safety? Yes. More believable than this really attractive man being Clara’s teacher? Also yes.

This is the last door in the hallway. Clara’s teacher’s name is on this classroom’s nameplate. This has to be Dr. Grace.

Yet, when you very timidly take a few steps into the classroom, just beyond the doorway, and pause in it, you find yourself knocking and asking, “Would you happen to know where Dr. Grace is?”

The guy who definitely isn’t Dr. Grace perks up from behind his desk. Snaps out of the little grading trance he was in. He smiles at you, and it’s a beautiful smile. Soft and lacking teeth because it’s just a gentle upward curve of the corner of his lips, but still comforting and gorgeous nonetheless. The corners of his eyes crinkle a little. Their bright blue color is striking, to say the least.

Oh, Christ…are you ogling him? Stop it!

“Yeah,” he answers. His voice is as polite and casual as the smile on his face. “You’re looking at him.”

Okay. This guy who definitely is Dr. Grace perks up a little more. The way he’s keeping his eyes on you isn’t making this any easier on your heart.

“Oh,” you squeak out. Much higher pitched than you wanted it to be. How humiliating.

He stands up, now, and even from your spot at the door, you can tell he’s taller than you. A decent amount taller than you. He rounds his desk and starts toward you. You, on the other hand, can’t move your fucking feet at all. You’re still stuck just a couple steps into the classroom.

“Nice to meet you,” he says while sticking his hand out for you to shake. He got here so quickly. Didn’t give you enough time to recalibrate, or to do a system reset, or to come back down into your body. You clear your throat enough to find your voice again, though, just a few seconds after you take his hand and shake it.

“Nice to meet you, too,” you mumble. You’re reeling over the firmness of his grip while you let out an awkward laugh.

“I wasn’t expecting you to look like this,” you blurt out. Fuck. Why did you say that? And why did he throw his eyebrows up like that when you said it?

“No?” he asks. Crosses his arms over his chest and smiles at you. If God was on your side right now, he’d make Dr. Grace stop finding ways to flex his biceps in front of you.

“What were you expecting?”

“I…well, I thought you’d look like,” you pause and awkwardly laugh again. Really making a good first impression with this one, huh?

“I don’t know. I thought you’d look like Bill Nye, or—or a mad scientist, or something.”

“Bill Nye or a mad scientist,” he repeats.

He laughs. A little wheezy, a little higher pitched than you expected. Just makes him even more attractive, which in turn ends up making you more flustered. Your face floods with an embarrassed heat that’s so hot you could probably melt steel with your skin alone. You look down at the floor between you and force out a chuckle.

“I can’t tell if that means your kid really likes me or really hates me.”

You look back up at him. There’s an incredibly defeated, embarrassed little smile on your face. This is potentially the most humiliated you’ve ever been in your entire life. Can’t get much lower than this, right? Somehow, that thought grants you the ability to speak.

“I’m sorry. Can we restart? I’ll walk out, come back in, and we’ll pretend I never said that,” you softly mumble. It’s a little surprising that you were able to compose yourself enough to say that coherently. Dr. Grace’s brow pinches together. Is that sympathy? Is he trying to not laugh at you? Who knows.

But he nods. Then he smiles at you, devoid of sympathy and full of what you’re pretty sure is genuine kindness.

“Sure. You want me to reset? Go back to my desk?”

“Yeah. Let’s just time travel to…a couple minutes ago?”

“Deal.”

He claps his hands and calls out, “Action!”

Then he skitters back to his desk. A light but quick jog that has you laughing pretty hard as you walk yourself out of his classroom.

When you’re in the hall, in a spot he can’t see you, you shake your hands at your sides. You let out a soft, anxious sigh and run your fingers through your hair. Self soothing, but also a way to tame any potential fly aways. You even jump a few times. Anything to shake the jitters off.

“Okay,” you whisper to yourself. “You can do this. You can talk to him without embarrassing yourself.”

With your jitters mostly shaken off and your self-pep talk not doing much for you, you walk into the classroom again. Dr. Grace is sitting at his desk as if your first introduction never even happened. Same position and everything.

You start the scene by clearing your throat.

“Hi."

He looks up at you with that same gentle smile he flashed you the first time he saw you. Nods his head at you.

“Hi, stranger I’ve definitely never met before.”

“I’m looking for Dr. Grace?” you ask through a giggle. Your question sounded so dorky because of the grin stretching your face. Maybe you're a student instead of a parent.

“You found him!” he excitedly responds, both of his index fingers pointing at himself and eyes widened behind his lenses. “Because that’s me!”

Your giggles turn into a full laugh. Between his stilted use of the word “stranger” and the enthusiastic way he’s currently standing up behind his desk and rounding it to meet you, you were done for. He juts one of his hands out toward you and, for the second time today, you find yourself reeling from Dr. Grace’s palm being pressed against yours.

“Very nice to meet you, Miss.”

When he releases your hand, he gestures toward an empty chair sitting right next to the one he was occupying. “You can have a seat over here if you’d like.”

A typical parent-teacher conference usually maintains some distance. It’s rehearsed, in a way. A performance of good teacher and good parent. It’s got a formulaic parent question about how your kid’s doing and a formulaic positive teacher answer that every parent wants to hear. And it happens over their desk with at least five feet between parent and teacher.

Not this one, though. Dr. Grace is breaking that formula and improvising that performance.

You blink a few times, but you round that desk and follow him. You both sit down at the same time, and he turns his chair toward you to continue giving you his full attention. He leans back a little. Leaves his arms uncrossed, now, because he wants to remain open to you. Although, the smile on his face and the interest in his eyes was enough to tell you that he’s an open book.

It’s nice to break that formula. It’s nicer to improvise.

“I didn’t catch your name earlier,” he mutters. There’s a little apologetic lilt in his voice. A sheepish quality to it that’s quite heartwarming.

“Because we’ve never met before, so how would you have caught it?” you counter while you point back and forth between him and yourself. He snaps his fingers, then gently smacks his own forehead.

“That’s true,” he confesses.

“What’s your name, stranger?”

You give it to him. He smiles. Repeats it with some sort of reverence and leans into you just a pinch.

“That’s a pretty name.”

“Thank you, Dr. Grace.”

Have you ever sounded so timid in your entire life? Probably not. But it’s hard not to be when he refuses to break eye contact with you while he’s complimenting you so sincerely.

“You don’t have to call me that. Most of the kids just call me Mr. Grace,” he mumbles. Basically blows off his fancy title that definitely took him years to achieve.

“But you’re not 13, so…please call me Ryland.”

You raise an eyebrow.

“I really like that. It’s unique.”

He scoffs. “You think mine’s unique? You should hear my brother’s.”

He waves off that murmured comment and laughs at himself.

“That’s a story for another day, though,” he says, “because I’m pretty sure you’re here to see me instead of hear about my brother.”

What a rambler. A really, really attractive rambler. Is the rambling only bearable because he’s so cute?

Maybe.

“You’d be right,” you respond, muddled a bit by the smile you can’t wipe off of your face.

“I figured. So, who do you belong to?” he asks while he picks up a packet from his desk. It’s full of names. Some kind of roll sheet, you guess. Only a few have been checked off. Maybe that’s why he’s so excited about how you’re here. Another parent to perform for.

You know he’s asking that question about Clara. If he wasn’t her teacher, you’d have made some kind of feisty quip. Something like:

“Are you asking me about my kid or my relationship status?”

Shit. Did you say that out loud?

Ryland’s eyes widen. His face flushes pink and he laughs really, really hard while he tears his gaze off of you. Even though he clearly wants to keep looking at you, he’s seemingly unable to; he opts for gluing his eyes to his hands as they clutch that roll sheet like grim death.

Nice to know you’re not the only one getting flustered here—and, boy, are you flustered. You’re so tensed up that you’re starting to worry about the way your muscles are squeezing your own bones. You’re so embarrassed that you could throw up.

He glances up at you from behind those cute glasses and shoots you a crooked smile. A fleeting glance that makes you feel good about yourself. He still wants to look at you despite the way that you humiliated the shit out of yourself so badly that you might have to excommunicate.

“I was asking about your kid.”

“I’m so sorry. Just a stupid joke,” you mumble. You clear your throat and shake your head to try and rid yourself of the terrible thoughts in it. Then you point at the roll sheet in his hands. You found Clara’s name the moment he clutched that paper.

It called out to you. That kid’s your everything even though she’s just unknowingly tossed you into the most embarrassing moment of your life.

“I belong to that one,” you say, trying your very hardest to get this conversation back on the right track.

Ryland perks up. His smile from earlier grows. It’s not crooked anymore, but it’s still just as genuine as it was when he tossed it your way.

“Oh, you’re Clara’s mom!” he exclaims. “She’s great! Super bright. Takes a little while to get her out of her shell and speak up, but she’s a perfect addition to third period because of it. I never have to get on her case.”

Your face might split in half if you grin any harder.

“Yeah, that sounds like my girl,” you proudly confirm. “Can you believe she never stops talking back at home?”

“I can, actually. All the good ones are like that,” Ryland says through a chuckle. He checks her name off then passes you the roll and a pen. While you’re in the process of signing in the little blank next to Clara’s name, things take a tiny turn for the worse.

“You and Dad did an incredible job.”

Ouch. At least you’re not the only one saying the wrong shit today.

You must have visibly winced when he said it, because he looks like he wants to die now. You didn’t think it was possible for a person to look this mortified. He’s pushing the boundaries of just how red a person’s face can get. He drops his mouth open, likely so he can apologize, but you hold one hand up between you to stop him before he can get a single syllable out.

“Don’t worry about it. I know he’s on here,” you mumble while you gesture toward the roll sheet. A wistful little sigh falls from your lips, then an awkward giggle. One you force out to make things not so tense. He still has the ghastly appearance of, “man, I wish I could throw myself into oncoming traffic right now" plastered on his face.

So you reach out and lay your free hand over his. Give it a gentle pat and squeeze before you pull away and let it settle in your own lap. His fingers twitch. For a second, they appear to have been chasing after yours.

Maybe. A lot of things are weird right now. That was probably just in your head.

“At least now you know not to call him if you ever need anything,” you continue. A bit of a joke, albeit too realistic. Pulls on a taut, aching string in your heart—that same one that always gets pulled when you have to think of that idiot. You’re not sure if it’ll ever snap and relieve you of that pain.

You’re in the process of handing the roll sheet back to him when Ryland finally says something.

“Can we restart one more time?”

You sink your teeth into your bottom lip to bite back a grin when you look up at him again. His face isn’t as red, but there’s some pink lingering over the bridge of his nose and bleeding into his cheeks. You’re not sure it’ll go away after that massive fuck up, but…at least it’s cute on him.

“Should we go a couple minutes back again?”

“That—Yeah, maybe,” he stumbles over himself, grimacing a little before he finishes, “just as long as we can forget what I just said.”

You pinch your eyebrows together and let out a confused huff.

“What do you mean?”

He’s confused, now, too. Laughs to himself as he begins, “When I said that you and—”

You decide to cut him off with a little clap and a whispered, “Action!”

Then you straighten in your chair.

“You’re losing it, I think.” You gently tap your temple a couple times while you laugh, too. “Because all I remember is you saying my kid’s pretty good in your class.”

Then it clicks for him. You can see it. The sparkle in his eyes and the way he has to suck in a deep breath so he doesn’t blow the next interaction you have. He decides on simply shooting you a thumbs up.

He settles back into that casual routine you had both been nurturing. The tension in his shoulders—his broad shoulders—melts away. He looks almost relaxed as he drops his hands into his lap. When he rubs his palms up and down his thighs for whatever reason someone would do that for, you have to force yourself to not think about the veins on the back of his hands. And how soft his hands look. And how big his hands are.

You're not really doing a great job at it.

Your tongue runs over your bottom lip and you force your eyes to meet his when he speaks up.

"Clara really is a great kid."

"She'd die if she knew I told you this," you begin before you lean forward just a little. Enough to get closer to him. To get a hint of that woodsy cologne he's wearing and fuck yourself up pretty badly. Can't help but wonder if that scent would transfer onto your skin if you got close enough to him.

Jesus. What the hell is going on with you today? Best to continue your actual conversation before you melt into a puddle.

"But she begged me to come to this because she wanted me to meet you. She said you were her favorite teacher ever."

Ryland smiles. Then he laughs. You like how much he does both of those things.

"Seriously?"

"Seriously!" you exclaim. He clutches his heart. Quite dramatic. Quite hilarious. Man, he's interesting. One of the most interesting men you've ever met.

"No way!"

Through a giggle, you tell him, "Yes way! She likes you a lot, actually."

He huffs. "I find that hard to believe. She's got such a good History teacher this year."

"Oh, yeah? You wanna bet?" you question, smirk on your face and a twinge of mischief hidden in your tone.

"Word for word, she told me that 'Dr. Grace makes science make sense.' So…on behalf of her, thanks for that. You're making my kid's life a lot easier."

There's a twinkle in both of his eyes, now. You might even say they're misty. Your heart aches; this was fun until you stoked the fire of his tender-hearted ways. It might just be a hallucination, but you're pretty sure his bottom lip trembled a little for a second there before he cooked up a response for you. Makes you want to reach out and give the poor guy a hug.

"That's so sweet. Means a lot," is that response he cooked up, accompanied by a hint of a cracking voice that makes him clear his throat. You nod and try not to stare at him when he brings one hand up to his face and rubs a lash line. To lighten the situation a bit, you lean back in your chair and cross your arms over your chest.

"She also said she thought I'd like you."

He blinks a few times and snaps up to look at you again, quick and surprised by your sudden pivot. Throws an eyebrow up. A corner of his lips quirks up to match it.

"Yeah?" he asks. His fingers toy with a loose thread on his jeans while he keeps his eyes on you. Clearly, he's got no idea what to do with those pretty hands of his.

You can think of a few things. But maybe you shouldn't right now.

"Was she right?"

You punch out a hum; might as well let him steep in the suspense of waiting on your answer.

Your gaze, exhibiting some sort of mind of its own, sweep up and down his face and body. Over his widened, seemingly hopeful eyes. His pronounced jaw and the stubble dusting over it. The broad expanse of his shoulders, the tightness of his shirt around his arms and the way it hugs his torso just right.

Then you see a flash of his smile in your mind, and you replay that tiny wheeze hidden behind his laugh when you first walked in, and you think about the genuine kindness that's always hidden in his voice no matter how silly he's trying to be.

"Yeah. I think she was."

Ryland's response? A very relieved sigh and a very dramatic loosening of his shoulders. He even hangs his head for a moment to breathe out a laugh. You hadn't noticed he was tensed up. Too busy thinking about the prominence of his nose. Can you be blamed for that, though? It's really nice.

"That's good to hear."

"Do you usually want your students' parents to like you this badly?"

He blushes. Bright pink, all over his cheeks and the bridge of his nose and creeping down to his neck and up to his ears.

"Well, I—"

He gets cut off by someone rapping at his classroom door. When he sits up and snaps his head toward the door to look at the person waiting there for him, you realize just how close you actually were to each other. You practically could have crawled into his lap without him noticing.

"Hi! We're just finishing up here, so I'll, uh—I'll be with you in a moment!" he calls out. His voice cracks a little when he raises it. You bite back a snicker while you lean back in your chair. The person who you presume is a parent nods and backs out of the classroom. It leaves a slightly awkward air sitting between you and Ryland, but it's oddly comfortable.

"I guess that's my cue to go."

You didn't mean to sound as sad as you did. It's like all the wind has been taken from your sails. If you could spend all day with him, you'd do it in a heartbeat. Why the hell did that parent have to show up?

You reluctantly stand from your spot. Ryland shoots up to follow you. His chest bumps against yours, causing him to roughly pull back and frantically apologize beneath his breath. He almost falls backward, so you lunge forward and grab onto his hand to keep it from happening. His fingers intertwine with yours and he steadies himself when he presses his free hand down onto the flat surface of his desk.

He doesn't let your hand go, though. He's still apologizing for bumping into you, but he's giving your hand a squeeze at the same time. Firm yet gentle. The most comfortable grip you've ever felt, maybe.

Safe to say you're frozen. Eyes wide, breath caught in your chest, face burning like he's set it on fire. You've got no idea where to move and where to go because, if you were being honest, you'd say you wanted this the entire time you've been in here. How on Earth has he managed to wrap you around his finger so quickly?

He releases your hand right and mutters another apology. An unnecessary one. If anything, he should be apologizing for letting you go. For taking the welcoming firmness of his grip away from you.

"It was really great to meet you," he softly coos. You return his sweet little comment with a tiny head nod and a bright smile, then you round his desk and start for the classroom door. He follows you, because…well, of course he does. Did you honestly expect anything else?

"You're good company, Dr. Grace," you tease. A tiny, mischievous lilt added to the title you know he doesn't care for. Something that makes him roll his eyes. You saw that smirk on his face, though.

"And I'm really glad that you're my kid's teacher."

"Ah, well," he pauses and waves off your comment. "She's great. I'm happy to be her teacher."

He clears his throat to stop you just before you walk out the door. A frantic comment follows.

"But if she ever needs a tutor or something, don't be a stranger. Reach out!"

You spin on your heel and send him a sympathetic little smile.

"I don't know. She's got a pretty good grade in here. I don't think she needs a tutor."

He deflates almost immediately. A frown's on his lips while he rubs the back of his neck. Then a little bit of hope flickers in his eyes, and he cheekily adds, "Well, I'm good at other subjects too."

You laugh.

"I'm sure you are."

He sighs. Perches his hands on his hips and presses his lips into a thin line. It's a cute way to feign disappointment.

"But," you begin, heat welling beneath your cheeks and playfulness laced in your tone, "science was my worst subject in school. Maybe you could tutor me instead?"

"Yes!" he frantically replies. A little louder than you were expecting. A little quicker, too. Almost a garbled yelp because of the smile on his face. You're a little surprised he isn't jumping for joy.

He clears his throat again. His face burns bright red again. Then, in the most embarrassingly fake non-chalant way possible, he tells you, "Yes. I can definitely be your tutor."

itoshi rin

rin pretends he doesn’t notice the post-its at first. key word: pretends. 

because the second he walks into the bathroom and sees the tiny pink square stuck to the mirror, he pauses. 

eat something that isn’t convenience store coffee challenge (IMPOSSIBLE)!!! 

… 

another one: your eyelashes are unfair. just thought you should know. 

rin stares at that one for a full ten seconds. 

because what kind of message is that??? why would you say that before leaving??? 

now he’s just standing there looking at his own reflection like: “they’re… normal lashes.” 

except they’re not normal (they look like he uses grande lash serum religiously) and he knows it. 

there’s one last note hidden lower on the mirror: good luck at training today. don’t overwork yourself, okay? i’m serious. 

and there it is. that awful feeling in his chest. 

rin’s the type to get genuinely thrown off by tenderness because he never knows what to do with it. you’re just casually loving him before 9 AM like it’s nothing. 

and now he’s staring at a sticky note like it personally challenged his emotional stability. 

he carefully peels the last one off the mirror. 

keeps it. absolutely denies keeping it. 

if you ask later, he’ll go: “it was in my pocket already.” 

liar. 

sae visits the apartment one time and sees the note folded in rin’s wallet. 

rin nearly commits homicide. 

itoshi sae

sae notices immediately because the post-it is crooked. 

he walks into the bathroom, freshly awake, wearing black sweatshirt sleeves and that permanent 😐 expression. 

and there it is. 

a bright little note on the mirror: morning baby boy ♡ your coffee’s in the microwave because you forgot about it again yesterday. 

he opens the microwave. there’s coffee. 

he just sighs softly through his nose. how are you this observant??? 

sae’s favorite thing about you is that you remember things he doesn’t even say aloud. 

there’s another note near the sink: you looked really pretty sleeping today. don’t get cocky about it. 

his face does not change. 

but internally? internally this man is experiencing a full system shutdown. 

he rereads it three times. 

pretty? nobody calls sae pretty. handsome, sure. intimidating, yes. terrifying? constantly. but pretty??? 

you’ve permanently altered his brain chemistry. 

there’s one more note attached to his skincare bottle: have a good day today! i know you work hard even when nobody sees it.  

and that one gets him quiet. 

sae’s affection is subtle. private. hidden in small actions no one notices unless they really know him. 

so when you notice? when you see through him that easily? mhm. he’s done for. 

he takes a picture of the notes before leaving. 

later that night, you notice your contact name changed. 

from your name… to: “home.” 

nagi seishiro

nagi wakes up and immediately knows something is wrong. 

the apartment is too quiet. you’re gone. tragedy. actual devastation. 

he drags himself out of bed wrapped in the blanket like a depressed caterpillar and shuffles toward the bathroom. 

then he sees the post-its. 

suddenly, he’s awake. 

good morning sleepyhead. yes, you actually have to get up today. 

another one: if you skip brushing your teeth, i’ll know somehow. 

nagi narrows his eyes at the mirror. “… that’s threatening.” 

but he brushes them anyway because honestly? you probably would know somehow. 

there’s a little doodle of him on the next note. messy hair. dead eyes. blanket cape. 

you looked cute like this today so i didn’t wake you up ♡ 

nagi literally melts. just dissolves. 

he leans his forehead against the mirror dramatically. 

“this is sooo unfair…” 

because you left before he woke up, meaning he didn’t even get a good bye kiss (when he was conscious). 

and now he has to survive purely off sticky notes and yearning. 

there’s one final post-it hidden near the light switch: proud of you always. even on lazy days. 

yeah okay, he’s keeping that forever. 

reo later finds him lying on the couch staring at a sticky note like a widowed victorian man looking at a portrait. 

“dude, are you okay?” 

“no. she wrote on paper and now i miss her.” 

“she’ll literally be back in like two hours.” 

“ugh, too long.” 

mikage reo

reo notices the post-its before he even fully enters the bathroom because they match the color of the hand towels. like of course you coordinated them. 

his rich-boy heart almost explodes immediately. 

the first note says: your vitamin gummies are on the counter because you keep forgetting them, millionaire boy. 

reo gasps softly. “she remembered the gummies…” 

another note: meeting at 2 today. don’t accidentally flirt your way into another business partnership. 

he actually laughs out loud. 

because ONE TIME. it happened ONE TIME. 

there’s lipstick marks on the corner of this one and he genuinely stares at it like he’s been sent off to war. 

the final note is smaller than the others, tucked beside the mirror: thank you for making me feel safe. 

oh. that one hits him directly in the heart. 

reo’s someone who spent so much of his life around transactional love. expectations. appearances. people wanting things from him. 

but with you? it’s just this. sticky notes. reminders. tiny acts of care before running errands. 

and somehow that means more to him than every expensive thing he’s ever been given. 

he carefully removes every post-it from the mirror without tearing them. puts them in a drawer. 

yes, ALL of them. 

and yes, he has a drawer for your notes now. 

and no, you are not allowed to make fun of him for it because he’ll just smile dreamily and say: “can you blame me? i’m in love.” 

bachira meguru

bachira wakes up like a cat. one eye open. hair everywhere. somehow upside down in the blankets. 

he wanders into the bathroom humming to himself and immediately spots the post-its covering the mirror. 

“oooh.” instant serotonin boost. 

the first note says: breakfast is in the fridge. if you only eat chocolate cornet today, i’m calling your mom. 

bachira starts giggling immediately. “she knows me sooo well…” 

the second note: your hair looked extra fluffy this morning. like a sheep, but with bumblebee colors. 

he GASPS. offended. delighted. obsessed. 

he spends a solid thirty seconds poking his hair in the mirror like: “do i look sheep-ish today?” 

yes. absolutely yes. 

there’s tiny doodles all over the notes, too. little smiley faces, soccer balls, one really questionable drawing of him drooling in his sleep. 

you kicked me in your sleep btw. monster. 

“i would neverrrr.” 

boooooo liar. 

bachira’s the type to genuinely feel your absence the second you leave. the apartment feels quieter without you in it, less alive somehow. 

but your notes make it feel like pieces of you are still there, scattered everywhere for him to find. 

there’s one hidden behind the soap dispenser: have fun today, okay? don’t forget to rest too. love you, bug ♡ 

he’s done for. fully smiling at the mirror with heart eyes. 

he takes pictures of every single note before carefully sticking them inside his phone case. 

otoya later sees them fall out and goes: “bro, are those STICKY NOTES???” 

bachira just grins. “yeah. my girl made them.” 

like he won at life (he did). 

shidou ryusei

shidou wakes up violently, as if he got resurrected instead of rested. 

he stumbles into the bathroom half awake, shirtless, blonde-pink hair looking insane, and then– 

“oh?? what is this??” 

post-its. EVERYWHERE. on the mirror. on the sink. one somehow stuck to the toothpaste tube. 

the first note says: drink water before caffeine, i beg. 

shidou bursts out laughing. 

the second note says: don’t flirt with strangers for fun today challenge. 

he points at the note dramatically. “WOWWWWW okay. i see how it is.” 

there’s another one lower on the mirror: you’re adorable when you sleep. because you finally shut up. 

“she watched me sleep??? that’s… romantic as hell, i can’t lie...” 

shidou is actually absurdly soft when it comes to affection like this. people assume he only understands love in loud explosive ways, but small domestic things? tiny reminders? little notes? remembering his routines? he treasures that stuff so badly. because it means you think about him even when he’s not there. 

there’s one final post-it stuck crookedly near the door: don’t get into trouble today. or do. just come home safe after. 

and for a second he goes quiet. just staring at it. 

because “come home safe” hits different when nobody’s really said it to him before. 

he carefully peels that note off and sticks it onto the back of his phone. 

sae sees it later during practice. “… is that a sticky note.” 

shidou grins like a menace. “yeah. my girlfriend LOVES me. so no, you can’t have my number. cry about it.” 

karasu tabito

karasu notices the notes immediately and starts laughing under his breath before he’s even fully awake. 

because the very first one says: quit stealing the blanket at night, hog. 

“that blanket likes me more.” 

there’s another note right beside it: also your morning voice is unfairly attractive. fix that. 

karasu pauses. rereads it. smirks at himself in the mirror. “well. can’t argue with facts.” 

annoying man. 

he keeps finding more notes the longer he stays in the bathroom. 

one on the faucet: you have coffee breath. respectfully. 

another on the cabinet: you looked really peaceful sleeping today. kinda made my heart hurt. 

and THAT’S the one that gets him. 

because karasu jokes through everything. teases through everything. but genuine sincerity from you always sneaks past his defenses way too easily. 

he leans against the sink smiling to himself like an idiot. then immediately takes a selfie with the notes in the background. the caption: “won at life fr.” 

otoya replies: “this is sickening.” 

hiori replies: “yer in deep, bro.” 

yes. extremely. 

there’s one final note near the light switch: don’t overwork yourself today, pretty boy. 

karasu actually laughs out loud. 

“pretty boy” absolutely does something catastrophic to his ego. 

he spends the entire day unbearably smug because of it, too. 

you created a monster. 

kaiser michael

kaiser wakes up and immediately assumes the notes are fan mail (loser). 

he strolls into the bathroom dramatically, sees the pastel sticky notes on the mirror, and smirks. 

“ah. devotion.” 

then he actually reads them. 

eat actual food today. ice and coca cola do not count as breakfast. 

his smile twitches. 

another one: you looked grumpy in your sleep. very tiny angry cat of you. 

“tiny…?” he’s offended. intrigued. weirdly flustered. 

there’s lipstick on the corner of this one, too, and he literally touches it with his fingertips like he’s in a period drama. 

the next note: good luck today. try not to emotionally terrorize anyone for fun. 

kaiser scoffs. “i do not terrorize people.” 

meanwhile, ness somewhere across the city suddenly gets a stress headache. 

but then he notices the last note. smaller than the others. tucked near the bottom corner of the mirror: thank you for being softer with me than you are with the rest of the world. 

and that completely shuts him up. 

because kaiser doesn’t know what to do with being understood that gently. especially when you ask for nothing in return. 

he stares at the note for so long that his coffee goes cold. 

eventually, he peels it off carefully and slides it into his wallet. 

later, during training, he randomly opens his wallet just to look at it again. 

ness notices immediately. “what are you smiling at?” 

kaiser snaps the wallet shut. “nothing.” 

but internally? i’m going to marry her immediately. 

ness alexis

ness notices the notes and immediately feels his heart ascend out of his body. genuinely. 

he looks at the mirror and just: “… oh.” 

because there are little sparkly stars doodled all over the post-its in different pen colors. 

the first note says: you fell asleep at your desk again yesterday. rest properly tonight please. 

he physically puts a hand over his chest. you noticed??? 

another note: your hair was extra soft this morning. scientific breakthrough. 

ness smiles so hard his cheeks hurt. 

there’s one beside the sink: don’t forget your meds/vitamins today. i put water by the bed for you, too. 

and that’s what gets him – the small care. the remembering. the fact you do things for him before he even asks. 

ness loves intensely, desperately, completely, so when someone loves him back with the same gentleness? yeah. he’s a goner. 

there’s one final note near the mirror corner: i know you’re harder on yourself than anyone else is. so this is your reminder that i’m proud of you every day. 

oh okay, cool. now he’s crying before 10 AM. just standing there sniffling while holding a sticky note like it’s priceless treasure. 

he doesn’t even care if kaiser makes fun of him later. 

actually, when kaiser DOES tease him – “are you emotional over office supplies?” 

ness immediately goes: “you wouldn’t understand true love.” 

gagged…? 

yukimiya kenyu

yukimiya notices the notes immediately because they’re aesthetically pleasing. 

like of COURSE you picked colors that matched the bathroom decor. one pale blue. one cream-colored. neat handwriting that looks way too pretty for 8 AM. 

he smiles before he even reads them. 

the first note: your glasses are on the nightstand because you fell asleep wearing them again, old man ♡ 

“old man?” he’s offended for exactly three seconds before laughing quietly to himself. 

the second note: you looked so comfy wrapped in the blankets this morning :( almost didn’t leave. 

and god. he has to take a second to calm down his racing heart. 

because you ARE doing unexplainable things to him with simply words on stationary. 

yukimiya’s someone who thinks deeply about love. cherishes it carefully. especially after everything he’s been through. 

so knowing you look at him that tenderly? like he’s something worth staying for? he’s staring at the mirror smiling to himself like an idiot now. 

there’s one final note folded slightly at the corner: don’t push yourself too hard today, okay? your worth isn’t measured by how much you suffer. 

and that one hits him straight in the chest. 

because sometimes yukimiya forgets that. sometimes he needs reminding. 

he carefully removes the note and slips it into his wallet behind his cards. 

later, he catches himself rereading it during a break and just sighs softly. 

“seriously… how did i get this lucky?” 

chigiri hyoma

chigiri wakes up elegant even when he’s exhausted. like his hair somehow already looks shampoo-commercial perfect before he’s even fully conscious. 

he walks into the bathroom and immediately notices the pink post-it on the mirror: hair tie thief. give mine back. 

he snorts instantly. because he DOES steal your hair ties. constantly. 

there’s another one underneath it: stretch before training today or i WILL show up and cause a scene. 

“she knows me too well...” 

chigiri’s smile in the mornings is softer than people expect. quieter. sleepy around the edges. and every new note makes him smile a little more. 

one near the sink says: your hair smelled nice this morning. unfair honestly. 

he literally pauses mid-step. because compliments about his hair always hit. always. 

there’s another hidden beside the light switch: thank you for always slowing down for me when i can’t keep up. 

that one… that one gets him emotional immediately. 

especially because chigiri’s spent so much of his life terrified of being left behind after his injury. terrified people would eventually move faster than him and stop waiting. 

but you notice the opposite. the fact he slows down for YOU. 

great, now he’s standing there blinking rapidly before breakfast. 

he takes a picture of the notes and makes one his lockscreen. 

kunigami sees it later and goes: “is that a sticky note?” 

chigiri just rolls his eyes: “mind your business, ho.” 

yet he’s smiling at his phone every five minutes. 

barou shoei

barou acts annoyed immediately. 

he walks into the bathroom, sees the post-its, and clicks his tongue. 

“what is all this.” 

but he’s already reading every single one carefully. 

the first note: breakfast is in the fridge. heat it up instead of eating the same thing you do every morning (omurice). 

he huffs loudly. 

the second note: don’t glare at old ladies if they walk too slow at the grocery store today. 

“I DON’T DO THAT.” (he does cuz he just has an RBF). 

there’s another note attached perfectly straight on the mirror: you looked cute sleeping. yes, i said cute. deal with it, king. 

barou stops. genuinely stops everything – breathing, blinking, complaining. because CUTE??? him??? 

he stares at the note with the intensity of someone trying to solve a murder case. 

then immediately looks at himself in the mirror like: “… i do not look cute.” 

massive liar. 

there’s one final note near the sink: thank you for taking care of me in all the quiet ways you think i don’t notice. 

and suddenly he goes completely silent. 

because barou loves through actions. cleaning for you. cooking for you. silently fixing things before you even ask. 

he never expects people to notice those things. but you do. always. 

he carefully peels the note off the mirror and folds it ONCE. only once. perfectly neat. 

then hides it inside one of his kitchen drawers where nobody will find it. 

not because he’s embarrassed. definitely not. 

if you catch him rereading it later, he immediately gets defensive: “quit looking over here.” 

his ears are bright red though. 

hiori yo

hiori notices the notes and immediately smiles in that small quiet way he does when he’s genuinely happy. 

the first note says: drink water today. monster energy doesn’t count unfortunately. 

“she got me… yikes.” 

there’s another note beside the faucet: you smiled in your sleep last night. it was so wholesome. 

hiori blanks. checks out. cuz he didn’t even know he did that. 

and something about you noticing tiny things like that makes his chest ache in the nicest way possible. 

there are little pixel hearts doodled around the edges of the notes, too. 

another one says: remember to take breaks today. games are supposed to be fun and a relaxing outlet, not temporary distractions. 

hiori stares at that one for a while. he fears you understand him too well sometimes. the pressure. the tendency to disappear into himself. the way he burns himself out quietly instead of loudly. 

and yet you never push. never demand. only leave gentle reminders behind for him to find. 

there’s one final note hidden halfway behind the mirror corner: i like mornings more when they start with you. 

yeah okay, that one destroys him. 

hiori’s the type to reread little things people say when they matter to him. so he takes the note off the mirror and slips it inside the back of his phone case. 

later, during practice, karasu notices him smiling at literally nothing. “hey. what’s got ya lookin’ all lovesick?” 

hiori just shrugs calmly. “nothin’.” 

all while the sticky note is sitting safely tucked in his phone case like a legendary artifact. 

bunny iglesias

bunny wakes up dramatically. not in a cool way either. he wakes up like he’s late to defend his thesis. blanket kicked off. curls flattened on one side. muttering nonsense in spanish while stumbling toward the bathroom. 

then he sees the post-its. 

and immediately smiles so hard it physically hurts. 

the first note: good morning amor ♡ your breakfast is in the fridge because athletes apparently forget they need nutrients. 

bunny clutches his chest instantly. “AYYYYY dios mío…” 

there’s another note stuck crookedly near the mirror: your laugh is my favorite sound ever btw. 

that’s got him DEVASTATED. in a delighted way. 

so much so that he does laugh, the sound filling the spacious apartment and causing his shoulders to shake. he secretly wishes you were there to hear it. 

there are tiny little hearts doodled around the corners, too, and that’s what really gets him. 

because bunny acts confident constantly – loud flirting, easy smiles, teasing everybody around him – but when it comes to being genuinely cared for? softly? thoughtfully? in quiet domestic ways? he folds immediately. 

there’s one final note hidden near the sink: good luck today. don’t pretend to be tougher than you actually feel, okay? 

and suddenly he goes still. you noticed that, too. the way he jokes through exhaustion. smiles through stress. turns everything into a performance before anyone can worry. 

he carefully peels the note off the mirror and presses it flat against his palm. then he takes a mirror selfie with all the notes visible in the background. the caption: “someone’s in love with me bad 😮‍💨” 

he spends the rest of the day rereading the notes whenever nobody’s looking. 

hugo vivian

hugo notices the notes immediately. not outwardly, his expression barely changes. but internally? catastrophic levels of fondness. 

he walks into the bathroom still half asleep, crimson hair messy, and sees the neat little notes decorating the mirror. 

the first one says: your tea is already made. don’t let it go cold this time. 

he glances toward the counter. there it is. perfectly prepared exactly how he likes it. 

and suddenly the apartment feels painfully warm. 

there’s another note beside the faucet: you frowned in your sleep again. who were you fighting in your dreams this time? 

hugo actually exhales a quiet laugh through his nose. because apparently even unconscious, he still looks irritated. 

another note: thank you for always walking on the outside of the sidewalk with me. 

THAT catches him off guard. because it’s such a small thing. something he does automatically. but you notice it, remember it, and treasure it. 

there’s one final note near the edge of the mirror: being your destiny is the best thing that ever happened to me. 

… 

now he’s standing there silently staring at the note for way too long. 

hugo’s love language is subtle devotion. quiet consistency. remembering things nobody else does. 

so being loved in the same quiet language back? it affects him more than he knows how to explain. 

he removes the final note carefully, smoothing out the edges with his thumb. then folds it once and slips it into the back pocket of his wallet. 

later, during training, one of his teammates asks why he keeps checking his wallet. 

hugo immediately closes it. “none of your business.” 

but he’s thinking about you again. and again. and again. 

cuz honestly? he still can’t believe someone as gentle as you chose him. 

itoshi rin

rin almost never messes up, which is exactly why this hits like a meteor. 

he’s in his usual mode: calm, blunt, intimidating. 

“my playstyle is very direct. i apply constant pressure and look for openings to aggressively penetrate–” 

that last word just… hangs there. 

silence drops like a curtain. 

the interviewer’s pen literally stops moving. 

rin pauses for HALF a second, which for him is basically a full emotional breakdown. 

his expression stays completely blank, but his ears betray him, just slightly pink. 

“… the defensive line.” 

he continues like nothing happened. like that moment did not just echo into eternity. 

the interviewer is nodding way too seriously like they’re both in on pretending. 

the internet? yeah they are NOT pretending. 

edits with this moment as the intro, memes, reaction pics. 

rin sees ONE clip and immediately closes the app. 

if you ever bring it up, he just stares at you, long and silent, like he’s deciding if he’ll strangle you then and there. 

itoshi sae

sae’s isn’t even an accident. that’s what makes it worse. 

he’s answering like he’s being interviewed for a documentary about himself. calm, composed, bored. 

“i prefer teammates who can keep up with me. ones that are easy to manage and respond well when i command them.” 

interviewer: “… command them how?” 

sae doesn’t even blink. 

“i tell them exactly where to be and what to do. i don’t like hesitation. i expect them to follow through properly. no resisting.” 

the phrasing? insane. 

the confidence? even worse. 

somewhere off-camera, a PR manager just put their head in their hands. 

the interviewer gives a tiny nod like they’re processing something life-changing. 

the clip hits the internet and immediately gets taken out of context (even though… was it even in context to begin with???) 

sae sees the edits later and just shrugs like “that’s what i said.” 

no embarrassment. no correction. only acceptance. 

which somehow fuels the fire even more. 

nagi seishiro

nagi is half-awake during the interview. like genuinely looks like he forgot where he is. 

he’s answering slowly, voice low, eyes half-lidded. 

“i don’t really think too much when i play. i just go with what feels right in the moment…” 

the interviewer is nodding, encouraging him to continue. 

“sometimes i just… stop moving and wait. and then it just… comes to me.” 

there’s a pause. a long one. 

reo, is somewhere behind the camera choking. 

nagi tilts his head, blinking like he just noticed the silence. 

“… oh?” 

you can literally see the realization load in his brain. 

his eyes widen just a tiny bit, like ohhh. shit. that sounded weird. 

“… that didn’t sound right.” 

he doesn’t even try to fix it. just acknowledges it and moves on. 

the interviewer is trying so hard to keep it together. 

the clip goes viral because of the delayed realization + the soft little “oh?” 

comments are like: “the way the thought arrived 3-5 business days later 😭” 

nagi sees it trending and is just like “huh. people are loud.” and logs off. 

mikage reo

reo starts off STRONG. like full CEO mode, posture perfect, voice smooth. 

“i always make sure to support my teammates properly. when i commit to someone, i invest fully and adapt to what they need.” 

okay, solid. professional. keep going. 

“i like to make sure they feel comfortable, that they can rely on me in any position–” 

he FREEZES. 

the sentence just… cuts itself off. 

you can SEE the exact second his brain replays what he just said. 

his smile twitches. just barely. 

“on the field...” 

he adds it so quickly it almost overlaps with the last word. 

the interviewer is nodding, but their eyes are sparkling like they caught a real treasure. 

reo continues, doubling down on professionalism, but it’s too late. 

the clip is already destined for greatness. 

once it blows up, reo goes into full damage control. 

contacting managers, trying to get clips taken down, drafting statements. 

meanwhile, the internet is like: “he said what he said.” 

he ends up seeing an edit at 2 AM and just puts his phone face down like he needs a reset on life. 

bachira meguru

bachira starts off completely normal… which is suspicious in itself. 

he’s smiling, swinging his legs a little, clearly not taking anything too seriously. 

“when i’m on the field, i just follow what feels fun. like, i chase what excites me and… i like when things get a little wild.” 

the interviewer is smiling, nodding, thinking okay this is cute. 

“sometimes i just see a really good opening and i’m like, ‘oh, i wanna go in there so bad.’” 

… pause. 

bachira pauses, too, but not because he’s embarrassed. he’s just thinking. 

“… that sounded kinda weird, huh?” 

he starts laughing. like genuinely amused at himself. 

the interviewer is trying not to laugh WITH him. 

bachira doesn’t even correct it properly, he just keeps going. 

“but yeah! i just go where it feels right and don’t hold back–” 

the clip blows up because he’s so unserious about it. 

comments are like: “he said it like it was a normal thought 😭” “now i wonder what goes through his head...” 

bachira watches the edits giggling, zero shame, probably sends them to you like “look!! i’m even more famous now!!!!” 

shidou ryusei

this man walks into the interview already a problem 🫩

he’s leaning too close to the mic, grinning like he’s about to say something insane. 

“scoring a goal feels like–” he pauses, eyes lighting up. 

you can already tell he’s about to ruin everything. 

“like the best release of your life. like you’ve been holding it in and then BOOM, it just explodes–” 

the interviewer is GONE. mentally checked out. 

shidou is gesturing wildly, fully committed. doesn’t care. 

“and you don’t even care who’s watching, you just need it that bad–” 

there is NO saving this. 

someone off-camera coughs like they’re trying to interrupt him. 

he just laughs, tongue out for a second like he’s proud of himself. 

the clip is immediately labeled “unairable” and then immediately goes viral anyway. 

comments are like: “why would he say it like that???” “why did he keep going???” 

shidou sees it trending and is like “yeah that’s exactly what i meant.” 

no regrets. none. zero. actually confused why people are shocked. 

karasu tabito

karasu is smooth. too smooth. like he THINKS he’s got everything under control. 

leaning back in his chair, one arm draped over it, talking like he’s already bored. 

“it’s all about control for me. reading people, getting into their space, making them react how i want…” 

okay manipulative king, we hear you. 

“once i’ve got them where i want, it’s easy. they don’t even realize how deep they’re in until it’s too late.” 

the interviewer’s eyebrows go UP. 

karasu pauses, just for a second, then runs a hand down his face like oh. 

“… on the field.” 

he adds it so casually, like that fixes everything. 

well, it doesn’t. 

the clip blows up specifically because of the way he looks so calm saying it. 

edits are just zoom-ins of his face with people screaming in the comments. 

karasu sees it and just exhales like “y’all are so damn childish.” 

but he’s lowkey smirking internally because he knows exactly why it went viral. 

kaiser michael

kaiser is polished. dangerously articulate… which somehow makes it more of a problem when he slips. 

he’s speaking like he’s delivering a monologue. 

“for me, it’s about domination. i don’t just want to win, i want to completely overwhelm my opponent – mentally, physically…” 

the interviewer is already locked in. 

“i want them to feel it. the pressure, the intensity… to the point where they can’t think straight anymore.” 

okay… borderline… 

“and once i have them like that, it’s easy to take control and do whatever i want with them.” 

silence. 

not even a pause. just silence. 

kaiser tilts his head slightly, noticing it. 

“… during the match, obviously.” 

OBVIOUSLY??? 😭 

the interviewer is nodding like their life depends on it. 

the clip explodes online because of how calm and intentional he sounds. 

a top comment? “he didn’t slip, he meant that.” 

kaiser sees the edits and just smiles faintly, like this somehow worked in his favor. 

he will NEVER clarify further. 

ness alexis

ness is trying SO hard to be composed. like you can feel the nerves. 

he keeps glancing at kaiser like he’s making sure he’s doing okay. 

“i always focus on supporting kaiser in the best way possible. anticipating his needs, making sure everything flows smoothly…” 

just him being sweet, loyal, normal. 

“i just… want to give him exactly what he wants, whenever he wants it–” 

he STOPS. 

his eyes widen. like oh no. 

“on the field! on the field, i meant on the field!” 

he says it twice. TWICE 😭 

his voice pitches up slightly, panic setting in. 

the interviewer is trying to reassure him like “yes, of course.” 

ness is flustered now, rambling a bit, trying to recover. 

meanwhile, the damage has already been DONE. 

the clip goes viral for the panic correction alone. 

“he folded instantly” “bro snitched on himself” 

ness sees it and looks like he might actually pass out. 

kaiser, in the background of another clip, is just barely smirking like this is the funniest thing he’s seen all week. 

meanwhile, ness’s PR manager is on the verge of quitting. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

a/n #2: inspired by this edit + clips from famous basketball players doing the same thing lol

and meanwhile, your boyfriend… ugh. 

isagi tried not to judge him. he really did. 

but every time he saw you apologizing for things that weren’t your fault? every time he heard you laugh awkwardly after being ignored or talked over? every time you checked your phone every five seconds because your boyfriend would get mad if you answered “too slow”? 

it made something ugly twist in his chest. 

especially because you never complained. you defended him constantly. 

“he’s just stressed lately.” 

“he didn’t mean it like that.” 

“he’s usually not like this.” 

and isagi would just sit there nodding while internally looking like he was being tortured medieval-style. 

because he wanted to say something SO bad. wanted to tell you that relationships aren’t supposed to make you anxious all the time. wanted to tell you that you deserve somebody who actually likes you loudly. 

but he felt sick even thinking about sounding manipulative. like he’d be trying to break you two apart for selfish reasons. 

so he kept his mouth shut until one night you showed up at his apartment crying after your boyfriend forgot your anniversary dinner. not even in a dramatic way either. worse. he just… didn’t care. 

and isagi finally snapped a little. 

not angry at you. never at you. but he was definitely quietly devastated. 

he sat beside you on the couch while you cried into his hoodie and asked softly: “when was the last time he made you feel loved?” 

and the silence after that question? game over. because you couldn’t answer. 

isagi looked like he regretted asking immediately. rubbing the back of his neck. stumbling over his words. “sorry, i just– i don’t think someone should make you feel this lonely all the time.” 

and that conversation changes everything. 

eventually, you end things with your now ex. and isagi gives you space afterward because he refuses to become “the guy you rebound with.” even though bachira is literally screaming at him that you both are obviously in love. 

and when you finally start dating months later? it feels embarrassingly healthy. like… a breath of fresh air after being cooped up inside for so long. 

you mention being hungry once and suddenly isagi’s already pulling into a drive-thru. you apologize during arguments and he immediately goes: “wait, why are YOU apologizing, too? we’re discussing things.” 

you almost cried. 

and the first time you fall asleep beside him without feeling anxious or emotionally exhausted afterward, you realize something horrifying: oh. 

this whole time you weren’t asking for “too much.” 

you were literally just asking the wrong person. 

itoshi rin

rin tries to avoid you at first. which honestly hurts your feelings a little because every interaction with him feels so brief and cold. except that’s not actually the reason. 

the REAL reason is that rin realized he liked you and immediately treated it like a terminal illness. because you’re taken. and rin already thinks emotions are annoying enough without adding morality into it, too. 

so now every time he sees you, his brain goes: bad. stop that. 

unfortunately his heart is like: what if we suffered instead. 

he notices everything about your relationship against his will. the way your boyfriend cancels plans last minute. the way you shrink yourself down around him sometimes. the way you smile after getting insulted like you’re trying to convince yourself it was a joke. 

rin absolutely despises it. 

but he despises himself more for caring. 

so instead of confessing or flirting, he becomes weirdly protective in subtle ways. walking you home when it’s late. bringing you food because “you forgot to eat again.” texting you: “did you get home.” not even a question mark. just blunt concern. 

and the more he gets to know you, the angrier he becomes on your behalf. because you’re kind. too kind. the type to give and give and give until there’s nothing left of yourself. 

one day, he overhears you apologizing to your boyfriend over the phone because you interrupted his game night by calling him after a panic attack. 

rin actually goes still. then after you hang up, he asks: “why are you the one apologizing?” 

you try to laugh it off. he doesn’t let you. 

rin’s eyes narrow slightly, expression unreadable. “you act like you’re asking for too much when you’re asking for the bare minimum.” 

and GODDDDDDDDD. he kinda gagged you. 

but also rin rarely talks about feelings. so when he does? every word lands like a brick to the chest. 

he tells you carefully that he’s not trying to interfere. that he knows you’re in a relationship. but he also says: “if someone makes you feel unwanted all the time, they shouldn’t be with you.” 

and after that conversation, things start unraveling. 

you finally stop defending your relationship so hard because rin made you realize something terrifying: love isn’t supposed to feel humiliating. 

after your breakup, rin keeps his distance. mostly because he’s terrified of becoming the rebound guy. also because sae would NEVER let him live it down. so instead he waits. 

and when you finally get together later? it’s quiet. steady. safe. rin’s not overly affectionate in public, but he’s attentive in ways that matter. he notices when you’re overwhelmed before you even say anything. remembers your orders. keeps your favorite snacks in his kitchen without mentioning it. 

and one night, you accidentally apologize for crying in front of him and rin looks genuinely confused. “why would i be upset that you trust me?” 

oh that healed something in you permanently. 

itoshi sae

sae knows liking you is a bad idea immediately. not because you’re taken. well. partially because you’re taken. 

but mostly because sae’s self-aware enough to know that once he cares about somebody, he cares too intensely. the kind that slips into every part of his life before he even notices. 

and he absolutely refuses to be “that guy.” 

so he draws lines. he keeps conversations polite. keeps his distance. he pretends not to notice when your boyfriend talks to you like you’re inconvenient. 

except sae notices everything, whether he likes it or not. he notices the way your smile drops whenever your phone lights up. he notices you checking whether your outfit is “okay” before dates. he notices you overexplaining yourself constantly. 

and sae HATES people who make others feel small. especially you. 

because to him, you’re embarrassingly easy to adore. you’re thoughtful. observant. patient with everyone around you. you remember tiny details about him even though sae barely tells people things in the first place. 

one time, you brought him a drink after practice because you remembered he mentioned liking it weeks ago. weeks ago. sae stared at the bottle for like ten full seconds before saying: “you remembered.” and you just shrugged like it was obvious. 

that was the exact moment he realized he was doomed. 

still, he never crosses a line. never flirts. never says anything inappropriate. never drops hints. if anything, he becomes colder toward you because he’s trying to kill his feelings before they become a problem. 

until one evening you quietly admit: “sometimes i think maybe i’m just hard to love.” 

sae looks at you like you just slapped him across the face. genuinely offended. “who told you that?” 

you laugh awkwardly. “nobody–” 

“it was him.” 

not even a question. and sae’s expression after that is SCARY calm. because unlike rin, sae doesn’t get visibly angry often. he just gets quieter. 

so he tells you carefully: “someone failing to love you correctly doesn’t mean you’re difficult to love.” 

and you nearly cry on the spot. because nobody’s ever said it like that before. 

he still doesn’t confess afterward. doesn’t push. doesn’t pressure you to leave. he simply says: “you deserve better than surviving your relationship.” 

SURVIVING YOUR RELATIONSHIP!!!!!!!!!!! 

yeah. that sentence sits in your brain for weeks. and eventually you leave. 

months later, after healing and relearning yourself a little, you and sae finally start dating. and it’s almost unsettling how easy it feels. 

sae never makes you beg for affection. never embarrasses you for having emotions. never acts like caring about you is a burden. he’s not overly clingy, but he’s consistent. dependable. gentle in this quiet, almost private way. 

he kisses your forehead while listening to you talk. he remembers things without being asked. he checks whether you’ve eaten without making it sound patronizing. 

and the first time you realize you’re no longer scared to express your needs around somebody? you almost start crying again. 

sae just sighs softly and pulls you closer. “there’s nothing unreasonable about wanting to be loved properly.” 

nagi seishiro

nagi actually tries to convince himself he doesn’t have a crush on you. 

because crushes are troublesome. and you’re taken. so clearly the solution here is denial. 

unfortunately, reo clocks him immediately. “you like her.” 

“... don’t wanna.” 

“that’s not how feelings work.” 

nagi pouts. because he didn’t mean for this to happen. he just liked being around you. you made boring things feel less boring. you laughed at his dry comments. you listened to him ramble about games even when you clearly had no idea what he was talking about. 

and unlike your boyfriend… you actually paid attention to nagi. which made him notice how little attention YOU got in return. 

your boyfriend leaves you on read constantly. forgets plans. makes you feel annoying for wanting affection. 

and nagi – who barely understands relationships himself sometimes – still knows that’s messed up. 

he starts getting weirdly clingy without realizing it. leaning on you during movie nights. sending you random pictures first thing in the morning. showing up at your place because he “wanted company.” 

and every single time, he has to remind himself: this is dangerous territory, man. because he knows if he pushes too far, he’ll become the exact type of person he hates. 

then one day, he sees your boyfriend snap at you for interrupting him while you were literally trying to hand him something he forgot. the silence afterward is brutal. your face falls immediately and you apologize. 

nagi stares at the floor for a second before quietly saying: “i think you apologize too much.” 

his voice is so soft it almost hurts. and when you try defending your boyfriend, nagi just sighs. 

“you always look sad after talking to him.” 

ow. like seriously, OW??? 

he tells you carefully that he doesn’t want to interfere. doesn’t want to ruin your relationship. 

“but i also kinda hate seeing you treated like you’re hard to keep around.” 

that conversation changes everything. 

you break up eventually, and nagi actually forces himself to give you space even though he misses you constantly. reo is suffering watching him mope around. 

“just text her.” 

“what if she needs time?” 

“YOU need help.” 

and when you finally do get together later? it’s so gentle. so easy. nagi likes touching you constantly. he just always wants some part of him connected to you. your hand in his hoodie pocket. your legs tangled together while gaming. your head on his shoulder while he naps. 

and one day, you realize something while he absentmindedly kisses your knuckles during a movie: you don’t feel emotionally exhausted anymore. 

loving somebody isn’t supposed to drain you dry. 

with nagi, it finally feels like second-nature. 

mikage reo

reo feels horrible for liking you. HORRIBLE. 

because reo’s naturally affectionate and expressive, but the second he realizes he’s developing feelings for someone already in a relationship, he pulls himself back hard. 

he starts policing himself constantly. don’t text too much. don’t compliment her like that. don’t stare. don’t get attached. which is difficult because you’re exactly his type. sweet. funny. caring. pretty without even trying. 

and worst of all? your boyfriend doesn’t appreciate any of it. 

reo notices immediately. the forgotten dates. the passive-aggressive comments. the way you dim yourself down to avoid “being difficult.” 

and it drives him insane because reo loves loudly. generously. he can’t understand treating somebody you love like they’re optional. 

still, he refuses to interfere. even when you call him crying after arguments. even when he has to sit there clenching his jaw while you defend somebody who clearly doesn’t deserve you. 

one night, you finally ask him quietly: “do you think i’m too emotional…?” 

reo’s expression changes instantly. because that question alone tells him everything. he looks genuinely heartbroken for you. 

“who made you think that?” 

and when you avoid answering, reo sighs softly and rubs his face. 

“listen to me carefully, okay?” 

his voice gets so gentle after that. 

“wanting reassurance isn’t being needy. wanting time together isn’t clingy. wanting effort from your partner is normal.” 

you literally start tearing up halfway through the conversation because nobody has ever validated your feelings so directly before. and reo admits something afterward. 

“i didn’t wanna say anything because i don’t want to be a homewrecker… but i think you’ve been settling for someone who makes you feel unloved.” 

yeah. that one destroys you. because deep down, you already knew. 

after the breakup, reo is unbelievably patient. he doesn’t swoop in immediately or pressure you into anything. he helps you rebuild your confidence first. takes you out with friends. encourages your hobbies. hypes you up constantly. 

and when you finally date him later? it’s like entering an entirely different universe. reo loves you out loud. he posts you proudly. plans dates carefully around your interests. buys you little things just because they reminded him of you. 

but more importantly? he listens. you mention feeling insecure once and suddenly he’s looking at you like you told him his hair color matched the color of the sky. 

“who told you there was something wrong with you?” 

and slowly, terrifyingly, you realize what healthy love actually feels like – safe. warm. reciprocated. like you’re finally being held instead of merely tolerated. 

bachira meguru

bachira falls for you before he even realizes what’s happening. 

one day you’re just “that really nice person he likes hanging out with,” and the next he’s grinning every time your name pops up on his phone like he got drafted into heaven itself. 

then he remembers: oh. you have a partner. 

immediate devastation. like genuinely laying face-down on the couch dramatic. “monster… this is illegal…” 

because bachira’s playful, but he’s not cruel. he doesn’t wanna steal somebody away. doesn’t wanna become the reason a relationship falls apart. 

so instead he tries to be normal. which fails instantly. 

he’s still texting you random pictures at 2 AM. still dragging you places because “this café looked lonely without us.” still making you laugh until your stomach hurts. 

except now, there’s this ache sitting in his chest every time your boyfriend’s name comes up. especially because bachira notices how dim you get around him. you’re bright around everybody else. expressive. easygoing. but around your boyfriend? it’s like you’re constantly checking yourself before speaking. 

and bachira HATES that. because in his eyes, you’re supposed to shine. not shrink. 

one time, he overhears your boyfriend making fun of your interests in front of other people and sees you laugh it off even though your smile looks strained. bachira goes unusually quiet afterward. which is terrifying because bachira is never quiet. 

later, while walking you home, he suddenly asks: “do you feel happy with him?” 

and you freeze. because nobody’s ever asked you that so straightforwardly before. 

you try giving him the usual excuses. “he just had a stressful day, haha. sometimes relationships are hard–” 

but bachira interrupts softly: “hard and painful aren’t the same thing.” 

oh. 

and then he immediately looks guilty afterward because he thinks he crossed a line. 

he starts rambling: “i’m not trying to steal you or anything! i’d never do that! it’s just that when i’m with you… i want you smiling for real.” 

that conversation lingers in your head for weeks. because bachira’s right. you’ve been surviving your relationship, not enjoying it. 

after the breakup, bachira gives you space even though it physically pains him. isagi literally catches him staring at your contact photo like a war widow. 

and when you finally get together later? it feels so alive. 

bachira loves every version of you loudly. he dances with you in grocery store aisles. kisses your cheeks mid-sentence. takes pictures of you when you’re laughing because “this is my favorite face ever.” 

and the biggest difference? you never feel afraid to be yourself around him. 

with bachira, loving somebody finally feels freeing instead of exhausting. 

shidou ryusei

shidou is the MOST conflicted out of everyone because morally? he knows liking you is bad. 

emotionally? he’s already planning your wedding after one meaningful conversation. 

he tries so hard not to cross lines, too. which is honestly hilarious considering this is SHIDOU. this man flirts with mannequins sometimes. 

but with you? he restrains himself HARD. no touching too much. no suggestive jokes. no openly admitting he thinks your smile could end wars. 

because you’re taken. and surprisingly, shidou respects that. 

what he DOESN’T respect is your boyfriend treating you like garbage. shidou notices it immediately, too. the dismissiveness. the lack of effort. the way your boyfriend acts annoyed whenever you need reassurance. 

and every single time, shidou looks one inconvenience away from committing crimes. especially because you’re so patient about it. sooo patient. you make excuses for him constantly while shidou’s eye twitches harder every time. 

then one night you accidentally admit: “maybe i’m just difficult to love.” 

the silence afterward is horrifying. because shidou – loud, chaotic, unserious shidou – suddenly looks genuinely upset. 

“who the hell told you that?” 

you try brushing it off, but he’s not having it. 

“absolutely not.” 

he starts pacing around like an angry dog. 

“you know what your problem is? you’ve been dating someone who treats your love like it’s homework.” 

and the worst part is he means every word. 

he tells you bluntly: “if someone makes you feel unwanted all the time, they don’t deserve you.” 

then immediately groans afterward because: “dammit, now i sound like i’m trying to steal somebody’s partner.” 

you laugh for the first time all night. and honestly? that’s the moment things start changing. 

after your breakup, shidou shocks everybody by being patient. still flirty, obviously. he physically cannot stop that. but he waits for YOU to heal first. 

and once you finally get together? oh you are getting LOVED. aggressively. enthusiastically. dramatically. shidou treats affection like a competitive sport. this man is kissing your forehead every ten minutes. grabbing your face dramatically: “look at this gorgeous girl. insane. unbelievable. and she’s MINE.” 

but beneath all the chaos, he’s weirdly emotionally attentive, too. if your mood shifts slightly, he notices immediately. if you seem insecure, he shuts it down instantly. because shidou genuinely cannot fathom making someone he loves feel undesirable. 

and one day while lying on his chest, listening to his heartbeat while he rambles nonsense, you realize: love was never supposed to make you feel lonely. 

karasu tabito

karasu knows he’s screwed the moment he starts comparing your boyfriend to himself. because that’s dangerous territory. 

he’ll see your boyfriend forget something important about you and immediately think: couldn’t be me. then he has to sit there in shame because WHY is he mentally auditioning for somebody else’s relationship??? 

karasu’s naturally observant, so unfortunately he notices every tiny crack in your relationship. the way your smile gets tight after arguments. the way you hesitate before texting your partner. the way you always seem emotionally exhausted afterward. 

and karasu absolutely hates it because you deserve someone who actually pays attention to you. someone who listens. someone who notices when you’re pretending you’re okay. 

he starts becoming your safe place without meaning to. late-night talks. walking you home. letting you vent while he quietly listens instead of dismissing your feelings. 

and somewhere along the way, he falls HARD. which annoys him badly. because karasu prides himself on being rational. but around you? suddenly he’s staring at your lips mid-conversation like an idiot. 

one night, you show up upset after your boyfriend embarrassed you in front of friends, and karasu finally loses patience. 

“why are ya still with him?” 

you look startled immediately. and karasu sighs, rubbing the back of his neck because he didn’t mean for that to come out so harshly. but then he says something softer. 

“ya spend more time defending him than he spends loving ya.” 

ohhhhhhhhh that one made your chest hurt. because you know deep down that he’s right. 

karasu admits afterward: “i didn’t wanna say anything because i don’t wanna sound like some asshole waitin’ for yer relationship to fail.” then quieter: “… but i hate seeing ya treated like yer hard to love.” 

that conversation gave you the courage you needed. 

after the breakup, karasu doesn’t rush you. he actually keeps a respectful distance at first because he wants you to choose him because you genuinely want him, not because you’re hurting. 

and when you finally do date? wow. karasu is smooth without trying. he remembers tiny details. pulls you closer absentmindedly while talking. rests his hand on your thigh while driving. 

and he’s so emotionally reassuring in this subtle, mature way. you mention feeling guilty about needing affection once and karasu looks at you like you just said your blood is green. 

“that’s literally part of being in a relationship, sweetheart.” 

sweetheart. 

you almost folded on the spot. 

kaiser michael

kaiser realizes he likes you and immediately becomes his own biggest enemy. because he KNOWS he shouldn’t. and yet every time you smile at him, he starts internally acting like a man dying from the plague. dramatic. tragic. unbearable. 

except unlike his usual flirtatious self, kaiser doesn’t actually flirt with you much at first. he keeps things weirdly restrained. because if there’s one thing kaiser understands deeply, it’s what it feels like to crave affection and not receive it properly. and unfortunately for him, he recognizes that same loneliness in you almost instantly. 

your boyfriend barely pays attention to you. dismisses your feelings. acts irritated by your needs. and every single time kaiser witnesses it, something ugly twists inside him. 

because YOU. you’re so easy to adore. you listen to him seriously when others don’t. you notice the tiny mood shifts he tries hiding. you treat him gently without expecting anything back. 

and your boyfriend acts like that’s replaceable??? insanity. 

kaiser starts getting possessive emotionally before he even means to. always texting first when you seem sad. showing up unexpectedly with coffee because “you sounded tired.” staring at your boyfriend like he’s analyzing a failed science experiment. 

ness notices immediately. “you’re in love with her.” 

“don’t be ridiculous.” 

“you looked ready to kill that guy because she got ignored by him at dinner.” 

“... that proves nothing.” 

then one night you quietly admit: “sometimes i feel embarrassed for wanting reassurance.” 

kaiser goes dangerously silent. and when he finally speaks, his voice is much softer than usual. 

“loving someone should not make you feel embarrassing.” 

this coming from kaiser – someone who hides vulnerability under ego constantly – that hits different. 

he tells you carefully: “i’m not trying to interfere in your relationship.” then after a pause: “but if someone consistently makes you feel unwanted, they absolutely do not deserve access to you.” 

you break up not long after. 

and kaiser actually gives you space despite wanting you immediately. which shocks everybody. especially himself. 

but when you finally date later? it’s overwhelming in the best way. kaiser worships you openly. posts you constantly. kisses your hands adoringly. calls you beautiful like it’s a factual observation. 

but privately? he’s so much softer than anyone expects. he listens when you’re upset instead of making it about himself. he reassures you without making you beg for it. 

and one night, you realize you haven’t felt insecure about asking for love in months. 

kaiser just presses a kiss to your forehead and murmurs: “because you are finally being loved correctly.” 

ness alexis

ness tries convincing himself his feelings are harmless at first. they’re not. 

because ness gets attached deeply. emotionally. intensely. and once he starts caring about somebody, it consumes him completely. so when he realizes he likes you – someone already in a relationship – he feels awful. genuinely awful. 

he starts distancing himself immediately because he’s terrified of becoming manipulative or selfish. but the problem is… you keep seeking him out. because ness listens to you. remembers things. notices your moods instantly. 

meanwhile, your boyfriend barely seems interested in understanding you at all. and ness can’t stand watching it. especially because you constantly blame yourself for your relationship problems. 

he witnessed you apologize for “being clingy” because you got upset your boyfriend ignored you for two days. TWO DAYS. ness looks horrified. 

“that’s not clingy.” 

you laugh nervously. “it kinda is–” 

“no,” he says immediately, almost too fast. “wanting your partner to talk to you is totally normal.” 

his voice shakes slightly because he’s trying SO hard not to overstep. ness doesn’t wanna be the person secretly hoping your relationship fails. but he also can’t ignore how unhappy you are. 

eventually he admits quietly: “i think you’ve gotten used to being emotionally neglected.” 

and you just stare at him. because nobody’s ever phrased it like that before. 

ness looks guilty afterward, too, immediately apologizing because he thinks he crossed a boundary. 

but honestly? that conversation changes your entire perspective. 

after the breakup, ness becomes incredibly careful with you. he refuses to pressure you emotionally. checks in gently. supports you without expecting anything. 

and when you finally date later? it feels unbelievably safe. ness is SO attentive. he remembers every little thing about you. your favorite drinks. your habits. the exact tone your voice gets when you’re overwhelmed. he reassures you constantly without making you feel guilty for needing it. 

and the first time you apologize for crying in front of him, ness looks genuinely confused. “why would loving you be inconvenient to me? i chose you. and i continue to choose you every day.” 

yeah. that one healed at least six emotional wounds instantly.