#acoustic ninja

[nicoscheer]

Via Miles’ insta

He’s so unserious I love him 🐢👑

One man band music video; my man’s really singing about the moon on top of a car park huh 🤧😭🫶🏽🐢🐒

We did ‘505’. We haven’t done that for a long time. And that was a nice feeling. I felt very honoured. I felt the timing was right and people seem to like it and it was a lot of fun. (LIKE mate we love it so much it tears on my heart and soul but yeah sure we like it)

I’d forgotten about that tune (Shavambacu) but I’m going to start playing that again.

🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽🐢🫶🏽🫶🏽👑❤️

How he uses the keychains as rings 🤣 also can we please talk about his hand(s) and fingers like 🥹🫠❤️

[rain-element]

Oh boy, SotD #15 time! This comes from a band called "Twelve Foot Ninja", a progressive/Djent band who never fails to impress. They incorporate all sorts of different genres into parts of their music with everything from Bossa Nova to Reggae, and their (unofficial) acoustic releases of their songs are arguably even better than their album releases. Sadly, they went on hiatus around COVID from the departure of their vocalist, but I hold out hope that they'll be back again someday.

(I've posted the acoustic and the studio versions for your convenience :P)

[s-4pphics]

candy crush. (e.w.)

SYNOPSIS: you’re too sweet, and ellie hates it. 

WORD COUNT: 4.3K

WARNINGS: recordshopmanager!ellie, crumblcookiebaker!oc, hurt/comfort, ellie’s a cunt, ocs too sweet, FLUFF?? FROM ME??? HUHHH, crushing, slight suggestive thoughts

A/N: idk where this came from lol

Ellie’s reorganizing the vinyl selection when a delicate hand lands on her shoulder. “I know your miserable ass doesn’t enjoy company,” Dina hisses in her ear, purposefully hushed, “But you got company.” 

Ellie’s eyebrow quirks with confusion, leaving the earplug that blasts Head like a Hole to dangle over her shoulder. Her eyes glaze over the semi-filled shop, narrowing in on every face until she locks eyes with you from behind the guitar displays. The eye contact only lasts about 1.5 seconds before Dina smacks her leg. 

“Don’t look. You’re gonna make it weird.” Dina quietly snaps from beside her, occupying her hands with some misplaced records. 

“You know her?” 

“I see her around sometimes. I think she works nearby,” Ellie catches her smirking from the corner of her eye, “… I think she likes you.” 

“Fuck off.” 

“I’m dead serious. She’s been staring for the past 10.” 

“At who.” 

“At you, dipshit.” 

Ellie can’t help herself. She takes one experimental glance in your direction; discovers you typing away at your device with a black mask pulled down under your chin, bottom lip trapped between your teeth with worry. Your apron and tiny name tag indicates you probably work somewhere close by, but she can’t pinpoint where. You’re too far and her vision is failing.

“Get her numbe—“

Ellie’s head whips to face Dina, “If you don’t shut up, you’re fired.” 

“Abuse of power,” She snarks in return, “C’mon! She seems so—“

“D-Do you guys have any acoustics for sale?” 

You’re a ninja, for sure. Both girls' heads snap around to face you — who stands a bit too close for Ellie’s liking — phone desperately clutched to your chest and eyes wide as a doe. Mainly locked with Ellie’s before they drop to your name tag.

Crumbl. 2 shops down. 

Fuck. 

“Why, yes!” Dina says excitedly when Ellie doesn’t reply, “Most of ours have been used, but they’re still in great condition. Are you interested in renting or purchasing?” 

“Purchasing… I think.” 

“No problem. I can show you some that we have on display, and if you don’t like those, we have some stocked in the back!” 

Ellie’s forehead creases. Dina has never been this active in making a sale, let alone interacting with any customers. Ellie is always the one who’s forced to pick up her and Riley’s slack in the shop. She catches the light traces of disappointment that overtakes your expression at Dina’s interjection, but eventually, you’re led over to the guitar displays.

Ellie sighs in relief. 

That brief exchange gave Ellie everything she needed to know. She doesn’t find gratification in denying proposals at work, but after months of being hit on by a multitude of customers — the men particularly piss her off— she’ll be as stern as she needs to be to get the point of denial across. Sure, it makes her look like a cunt to the general public, but she’ll take that over being chased after on the clock. No questions asked. 

Ellie assumes that you’ve found what you needed because on your way out, persistent stares are thrown in her direction up until your departure. She dodges them with mastery. 

She would hate to have to embarrass a strip neighbor. 

Three days later, you stumble upon the record shop once more. Dina isn’t here to save Ellie this time, and Riley’s passing time in the break room. Your uniform is lightly dusted with white, presumably flour, and your mask is down, phone clutched to your chest like it holds all your secrets.

Your mouth drops open around a small smile when you approach the service counter, but Ellie interrupts before you can greet her. 

“What can I help you with?” 

She assumed her annoyance would be guarded by professionalism, but your smile drops at its corners at her tone. A light flinch that Ellie prays is enough to deter you from spending your breaks here. 

It doesn’t. Your eyes still shine like the star that you aren’t. 

“I, um… I actually wanted to talk to you. If that’s okay—“

“Is it regarding the purchase you made a few days ago?” 

Dina slid Ellie a notice on the down payment you made for your used dreadnought since you weren’t able to pay in full. The scolding she received about “taking care of you” whenever you returned made her teeth grind together. 

“N-No. I just—“

“I’d appreciate it if we kept the conversation about that,” Ellie uses the scribbles on her notepad as a distraction, “Did you have any questions regarding the instrument? Or if you’re interested in taking part in the lessons we offer, I could redirect you to Riley. She’s in charge of—“

“I just wanted to see if you were… interested in sampling out some cookie flavors I came up with? I’m a baking and pastry student and—“

“Look,” The tip of Ellie’s tongue sharpens into her cheek, irritation evident when you two are eye-to-eye. “I’m not sure where this proposal is coming from, but frankly, I’m not interested.”

The drop in your expression doesn’t stop Ellie’s relentlessness. 

“I don’t know you, and I don’t know why you thought I’d be a good candidate for… taste-testing, but I’ll politely decline. No thanks.” 

Her declination doesn’t sound polite in the slightest; quite snippy and condescending from your perspective, and it forces your windpipe shut. Only for a second before a strangled gasp leaves your lips. You’re not sure if it’s out of shock or lack of breath, but it aches in your lungs all the same. 

Ellie’s glare sends holes through your back as you rush towards the exit, the small bell singing through the store and alarming your leave. 

All Ellie can hope is that you got the message. 

It’s a new week, and therefore, a new Crumbl cookie line-up. Dina won’t stop raving about the carrot-cake cookie which doesn’t resemble a cookie at all. It's tiered and way too soft and stacked with icing that’s sweet enough to rot teeth from the gum. 

It reminds Ellie of you, for some reason; Somehow still managing to be a nuisance without trying. 

Even more so now since Dina’s been using her 45 to walk down and see you. To talk to you. Dina has yet to cough up what about — not that Ellie cares. It’s just weird that you two suddenly have so much in common after knowing each other for all of two days maximum. Whenever Dina clocks back in, she tortures Ellie with dramatic retellings of your stories. 

It’s Thursday; a quiet day for the shop that Ellie uses to her advantage when the sun is at its peak. Searching through cheap magazines and playing Candy Crush on her phone. 

What a time for you to come barreling in. The formerly enjoyable shriek of guitar suddenly sounds like nails on a chalkboard at your appearance. No longer are you in all black. You’re in a sundress. An orange one. You look like a popsicle. 

And you bear gifts. Ellie’s mood turns even more sour when she sees two bright yellow gift bags with smiley faces on them and a tray filled with coffee stuffed in your hands. 

“Good morning!” 

You’re smiling, gleaming, and Ellie’s nose turns up. She plucks one of her earplugs out and closes her graphic novel. 

“How can I help you?” 

You set your bag down on the display case of her prized arch top, and she sighs in exasperation. Annoyance sparks when she notices one of the bags has her name on it, flowers and hearts and sparkles surrounding the tag. 

“Can you not put your belongings on the displays, please? I’d have to clean up after you since none of my employees will.” 

You’ve already moved your bags and exclaimed apologies before Ellie could finish her sentence. She’s seconds away from shoving her earplug back in to tune you out, but you’re fast. Persistent. She hates it.

“I’m really sorry about that,” You say gently, and Ellie shrugs you off, “I, um. I-I came to, uh…”

Ellie blinks rapidly, “If you’re here to apologize for last week, don’t bother. It’s not needed.” 

“Not at all! Well, I’m just… I wanted to drop by and—“

“You’ve gotten quite comfortable with just… dropping by. Have you realized that?” 

Ellie’s squint is harsh and scrutinizing, and sorrow overshadows the light in your pupils. 

“Since it’s obvious that you’re not understanding me, I’ll put it like this,” She leans a bit over the counter, front fully pressed against the glass and palms resting on the stainless steel, “I’m not interested in anything you have going on. Stop using your breaks as an excuse to come see me. I don’t wanna go out with you. And I don’t want to do a taste test. Drop it already.” 

Ellie watches your lip quiver with a harshness exclusive only for people like you, tears welting in your eyes and your fingers pinching at the hem of your sundress. Insecurity is practically seeping from your pores, and your gaze drops shamefully to the floor. 

Ellie’s just about to tell you to kick rocks when the STAFF ONLY door swings open and exposes Riley. Her break ended 20 minutes ago. 

“Hey! You’re early!” 

Ellie scoffs, “No, you’re late—“

“Not you. Be quiet,” She waves her off and smiles at you, who’s smiling back at her with guised genuity. A complete 180 from the you seconds ago. Since when were you and Riley on speaking terms? Friends?

She jogs from behind the stand, “Dina told me you weren’t coming til 3!” Riley throws her arms around your shoulders, and your hands tremble where they rest on her forearms. “Are those the goods?” 

“Yeah!” Your voice sounds heavy. Like you’re guarding a breakdown, “I-I had some time so I stopped by a little early.” 

“I got some to spare til Dee gets here. Hang out with m—“

“Actually!” You intervene shakily, “I have some other drop-offs to make. I really appreciate you guys doing this for me.” 

“Are you sure you can’t stay? Watch me get my Food Network judge on?” Riley suddenly points in Ellie’s direction, “Who knows. Sourpuss might even pop a grin once she tries one.” Ellie’s cheeks run red-hot.

“Sorry, Riley. Maybe next time,” You’re already wobbling towards the exit, “But, please call and tell me what you think! Dina, too! Any feedback is appreciated!” 

“I’m sure they’re delicious, Monster!” Riley compliments playfully, “Text me when you’re home!” 

When the door shuts, Ellie sees Riley’s back stiffen at the sight of you frantically wiping your face through the glass. 

“What the fuck did you do.” 

“I didn’t do shit. She’s loitering.” 

“Lo— Oh my fucking god, you’re an embarrassmen—“

“No, she is. Taking up space for no fucking reason to come and see me. She’s loitering—“

“You’re blowing a fuse over fucking cookie samples?” Riley stares at her like she’s nuts, “And not to burst your self-centered bubble, but I told her to come. She’s been asking all the stores on the block if they’d like to taste ‘em.”

Ellie pauses, expression softening only slightly when Riley continues, 

“I told her you don’t like chocolate, so she made a peanut butter version for you.” Riley shakes Ellie's special, slightly smaller bag as a means to taunt her, and the freckled girl’s face burns red. Glows even harsher when her friend throws in, “You cunt. She’s a sweetheart. Not everyone is fucking obsessed with you.” 

Riley leaves Ellie to simmer in her discomfort, slamming the break door shut. The day seems to drag on longer than usual. 

-

-

-

Ellie’s organizing the break room when she comes across her small baggie that Riley left behind. She would’ve expected her friend to take them home after Ellie’s dramatic blow up, but there it sat on the counter, untouched and jeering. 

Tempting enough for her to rest the broom against the counter and inspect its contents. Wafts of cinnamon and peanut butter hit her through the small opening of the bag, and her heart gives a squeeze. The cookie is iced to perfection — an entire scenery on the light brown canvas. So many flowers and trees and the blue hues of the sky; almost too much detail. It looks printed on. 

You’re artistically talented and the cookie smells divine. 

One nibble wouldn’t hurt. She’s sure the damage she caused is already irreversible. 

But when she cradles the carefully swaddled cookie, a small note falls from beneath the bunched cling wrap. She knows she shouldn’t. She should really, really leave the neatly folded piece of paper where it lays. Down the cookie. Trash the bag. 

She takes the cookie and the note back to her seat at the table. The cookie isn’t what she unravels first. 

“thought I’d make you a separate batch. Riley gave me the heads up about your chocolate disdain. I’m too paranoid to ask for your number in person, so I thought I’d use bait instead. I hope it’s convincing enough. Please let me know if it’s decent. Thank you for tasting.”

Signed with your name and a smiling heart with wings. Ellie’s heart shatters, remaining shards dangling from the rim of her ribcage. She can already see her friends glaring through her chest when they visit the apartment to berate her tomorrow morning. She already knows what they’re going to demand from her, but she’s three steps ahead. 

She ate the entire cookie in two bites right where she sat. It was delicious. Almondy, not too sweet, gently spiced. Probably the best she’s ever had.

Ellie has never been to Crumbl before. 

The viral spot is always bustling — too crowded and filled with loud teenagers with a sugar rush for her taste. Plus, she’s already on the clock when they first open. But the record shop is closed on Fridays. 

She put an extra bit of care into her appearance. She doesn’t recall the last time she did her hair. Half of it is pinned up and her button-up is neatly pressed. Jitters rustle in the pit of her stomach and her forehead is a bit damp, mainly because she can see you through the goddamn window. 

In uniform, you stand at the register with the same beaming smile from last week, talking and giggling with your coworkers, and Ellie instantly feels guilty. Your day seems off to a great start, and here she is… About to ruin it. She almost turned around at the thought. 

But the small bell above the door blares loud, and your bright smile drops once you recognize her, and with that, her stomach. Ellie mentally notes the bags forming under your eyes and the tension in your shoulders. It looks like you haven’t rested for days. Her heart squeezes. 

Your movements turn robotic; stiffly perched on the sides of the iPad stand as your thumb works on the screen. You haven’t looked Ellie’s way since. She approaches the counter with her tail between her legs, fidgeting with her middle finger. 

“Um… hey.” Ellie’s quiet. Out of place. Afraid. 

“What can I get for you?” 

Even with the stiffness, you somehow still manage to sound as soft as a cotton ball, but Ellie’s body locks. The scenario hits her like a brick wall; she’s doing exactly what she accused you of doing to her last week. Bothering her at fucking work. She should’ve never come to your place of business to coddle her ego. She feels like a hypocrite. You certainly see her as one. 

“Um… A cookie?”

“… What flavor.” 

“Uh… peanut butter?” 

You swallow thickly, voice hollow, “That’s not on the menu for this week,” You point towards the display of cookies that were big enough to feed a family, “These are the six we’re serving until Sunday. You can also look at the menu on the screen.” 

Ellie follows your pointing finger. How the fuck does this place work? Weekly flavors? What the fuck does that mean? She quickly examines the names of cookies that flash across the screen: raspberry cheesecake, pink velvet… Mom’s recipe? Odd name for a dessert but she lets it slide. 

“W-What’s your favorite?” 

You’re a baker, for fucks sake. You’d have better taste than anyone, better than her, she’d painfully admit. 

She watches your fingers clench around the screen, tapping mindlessly. 

“Um… raspberry cheesecake.” 

“I’ll get a dozen.” 

“O-Of the same flavor?” 

She shrugs like it’s obvious, “… Yup.” 

You give her one skeptic look before tapping at the screen. “It might be a little wait. About 15 minutes. Do you mind?” 

“No.” 

“Cash or card?” 

“Card, please.” 

More tapping, “That’ll be $41.65. Swipe or tap whenever you're ready.” 

A financial dent over a box of cookies was not on her bucket list. You hand her the receipt, and before you can rush to the kitchen, Ellie exclaims, “When’s your break?” 

“Excuse me?” 

“W— um, when’s your break?” 

Your coworkers are suddenly very interested in Ellie, all four of them eyeing her like venomous hawks. Her cheeks burst into flames. 

“Um… I don’t think that’s any of your concern.” 

And you’re right. Anything involving you is short on Ellie; it was never her business, but a burning in the pit of her stomach desires to learn. Needs to catch you at the right time to give you a proper apology even though she doesn’t deserve the time of day. She doesn’t know what to say. 

You use her floundering as a scapegoat and hustle behind the slamming doors. Just as Ellie rushes to leave empty-handed, one of your employees — Abigail reads across her name-tag, keeps professional, but Ellie’s skin burns with the fire in her eyes. 

“We’ll have those right out for you,” monotone, but gruff. It makes Ellie wonder if you told any of them about her — she doesn’t doubt it. 

“You can wait outside.” 

One stiff nod, and Ellie’s booking it until her feet plant on the packed sidewalk, nearly bumping into a couple with interlocked hands. It takes 25 minutes for the box of cookies to be rigidly placed on the lounge table by another employee. Ellie scurries into her truck with a boiling face and pulls out into the road. 

When she makes it to her apartment, she eats three mini cheesecakes in one sitting.

She sees why they’re your favorite. 

The following week was filled with glares and curses from Dina and Riley — your newfound friends, evidently. They have a way of making Ellie feel like a worthless dunce. They both have rubbed in the tales of you being a thrill to be around; the life of the party whenever they hang out. 

It makes her nauseous. And sad. 

But her sadness swiftly shifts to bewilderment when she catches you smoking near a lamppost after closing. Still in your uniform with a bag over your shoulder, pants dusted in white, proof of your labor. It’s dark out, the only illumination coming from the light stood tall above you and the orange gleam of your cigarette. The sight shocks her. You didn’t seem like the type. 

Maybe that’s where Ellie went wrong with you: constantly assuming… who you are. Your desires, your intentions with her, her friends. She’ll admit her wrongs, of course. 

But it has to be to you. 

Ellie scares you when she approaches, inhaling the nicotine a bit too roughly because you start heaving. Shoulders hunched and jumping with every cough. 

“Uh — fuck, I’m sorry! I-I thought you could see me coming! I didn’t mean — fuck —“

You’re still choking, but you hiss in between, “What the fuck do you want!” 

“I’m just — I’m sorry about —“

“You’re not — cough — you’re not sorry! You made your point clear. I don’t why you keep — cough cough — following me. I left you alone like you wanted!” 

“I DON’T WANT THAT!” Ellie shrieks in panic. 

It’s a heavy-handed admission. A weighted confession that was said too aggressively given your flinching away from her. She takes an instinctive step forward. 

“Your cookies… tasted fucking incredible. I’m also an asshole.” 

The drag you take from your cig while she rambles is almost comedic. Brows cinched at the middle of your forehead, gauging her. You’re not convinced, but you’re not fleeing like the first time. She takes a leap, and a large step towards you. 

“I feel really… really bad,” Ellie’s much quieter, eyes unwavering and the softest she’s ever shown you, “I shouldn’t have… said all that. To you. I’m just so used to being harassed at work. I’m sorry.” 

Maybe nicotine calms you. Your body language isn’t as taut compared to when Ellie first initiated conversation, and your eyes soften at her reasoning. 

The rasp from your timbre melts her skin like butter. “I didn’t know you went through that. That sucks.”

Ellie shrugs, “I didn’t know you were… nice.” 

She made the mistake of attempting playfulness, “Maybe ‘cuz you wouldn’t let me talk.” You snark while ashing. 

“I’m sorry.” Ellie implores. 

You take one last drag before stomping out the flame. “Me too. For bothering you.” 

Ellie cringes at your choice of words, but nods in acceptance. “Are we, uh… okay, now?”

A small smile grows on your face. It’s cute. Makes your cheeks puff out like a hungry squirrel. 

“We’re good.” You extend a fist out to her, and she connects her own at the knuckles. 

When they drop, Ellie nervously stares at her shoes, “Do you want a ride home?” 

“I’m alright, thanks.” 

“C’mon, I don’t want you waiting out here by yourself.”

You pause before asking, “What’s the catch?” Your brow arches mischievously.

Ellie doesn’t hesitate, “More of those cookies.” 

A giggle escapes you. Soft and airy like a feather. Ellie feels a tight clench in her chest. A thumping from her ribcage. Has your smile always been this vibrant? She mentally kicks herself for not noticing before. 

Ellie escorts you to the passenger's side of her passed down pick-up: opens the door for you and makes sure you’re buckled in before starting it up. She learns you’re a metalhead when she cranks the radio to the highest volume. 

… How quickly can crushes develop? 

Two months. Ellie’s spent two months finding every excuse to spend time with you. She welcomes your visits to the record shop and silently thanks the heavens above when you call after her shift to talk about your day. Listening to your rambles about customers and their weekly cookies has become the highlight of hers. 

She’s also found comfort in watching you fail at playing guitar. You’re adorable whenever you strike an incorrect chord or break a string. She’s more than willing to guide you through your trials: late-night invites to her apartment to practice. One of your goals was to learn how to play the entire Vanara soundtrack. 

Ellie assumed she simply enjoyed being in your space. She does, but something shifted between you during one specific session. It was past midnight, and Ellie could tell you were getting tired. She innocently suggested for you to spend the night so you wouldn’t have to Uber at such a late hour, and you graciously accepted her offer. When you started to get comfortable on the couch, she tuts in disapproval and invited you to share her bed because it was more comfortable. 

What a mistake. 

After showering and changing into comfortable clothes, you both crawled into bed and swiftly drifted off. When Ellie’s eyes opened the following morning, her heart immediately traveled up to sit in her throat. If anyone told her she’d wake up with you completely sprawled out on top of her with your warm breath hitting her neck and her arms wrapped around you, she wouldn’t have believed them. She was completely frozen beneath you, but not for the reason she’d assumed. 

Ellie was scared to wake you up. Ellie was scared you would move away from her. 

She was pulled between waking you up and pulling you even closer. You were soft and warm and you smelled like her cinnamon body wash. A literal human cookie. She caressed your back as delicately as she could, and you nuzzled into her shoulder with every swipe. She hoped the harsh thrashes from her heart wouldn’t disturb you. 

They didn’t. 

You took a piece of Ellie when you left her apartment that morning. She’s not sure which part you stole, but she hasn’t felt the same since then. A pull towards you that’s electric, sparks her to life, keeps her up at night. Whenever you’re away, at work, not next to her, she’s desperate to pull you close. To breathe in the natural scent of you. 

Evidently, crushes develop rather quickly. 

“I thought baking was supposed to be fun.” Ellie huffs from where she lays on her bed. 

“It is fun! My favorite past-time, actually,” She watches you pace around her bedroom, guitar still strapped securely around your shoulder, “It’s just stressful when you have chefs constantly breathing down your neck. It’s so hard to be creative because they nitpick everything.” 

Creating a menu is much harder than Ellie assumed. She’s become the person you’ve come to whenever you’re fired up from classes, ranting and raving about the apparent dickheads that judge your creations. After testing your recipes for as long as she has, how could anyone turn down a dessert from you? 

You’re such a hard-worker. Focused, determined… pretty when you’re brainstorming. Pretty when you’re talking… Pretty when you’re smiling. Standing. Staring off into the distance. 

“Hm.” 

It’s all Ellie can say. She’s been trying to mask her rampant stares at your bare thighs for the past… however the fuck long. They look so soft. So pliable. So easy to stretch and pry and yank at— 

Her guilty pleasure went from collecting Pokémon cards to gawking at your legs whenever you wear shorts. 

Ellie’s definitely crushing. 

Crushing very, very hard. 

[corvidcall]

hey if you're still doing the making you listen to songs meme... one time danny sang like 2 lines of the song "i am the highway" by audioslave on an episode of game grumps and i've desperately wanted him to do a full cover ever since lol

instructions unclear. listened to Life Is A Highway by Rascal Flats instead

(jk)

couldn’t listen all the way through | not my thing | it’s okay | kinda catchy | ok i really like this | downloading immediately | already in my library

yeah this WOULD be a really good one for danny to cover!!!!!

[prenzea]

pictures from the Ninja Sex Party show in Orlando last month!! I was in the front row and I DID cry

[yorkcalling]

Discovery: Anni

Anni, real name Annika Grace, is an American acoustic singer songwriter who has just hit my radar. When I first heard her new track Guest List, it struck me so powerfully, I knew I had to share it. (more…)

[peachsukii]

𝓲𝓷𝓴 & 𝓻𝓱𝔂𝓽𝓱𝓶 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 『 band au | strangers to lovers | slow burn 』

pairing // artist!reader x drummer!bakugo status // in progress rating // explicit (18+ themes) #✩.ink&rhythm + crossposted to AO3

✩ summary // Distortion is the hottest band in town, making waves in the underground scene with their unique sound. Led by your college best friend and music prodigy, Kyoka Jiro, alongside her misfit group of friends, they've been playing shows every weekend for the last few months and have gathered a decent following. You're whisked into the whirlwind of their rockstar lives when Jiro commissions you to design a band logo for their merch, reconnecting with her and meeting the members of the band. Your eyes immediately gravitate to their powerful drummer, Katsuki Bakugo. Fresh out of a nasty three year on/off relationship, he's not looking for anything or anyone while shutting out the world around him. He's focused on the one thing that keeps him sane; music. You're six months free of a breakup as well, looking to repaint your world with new colors and experiences, but turns out it's more tumultuous than anticipated. Explosive fights, newfound fame, clashing egos, dive bars, stolen kisses, black out dreams, messy exes and hard lessons; but somehow, love finds a way to bloom like a flower in the desert - deep in the hottest, driest wasteland of two broken hearts.

✩ tags & warnings // rock/punk/alt band au, slow burn, meet cute, strangers to lovers, various smut, smoking/drugs/alcohol consumption, talks of emotional & physical abuse from past partners, angst with a happy ending, emotional hurt/comfort, mild violence, mentions of cheating from past partners, miscommunications, jealousy, long distance, stalking, attempted sexual assault (not from bakugo or the bakusquad!), bakugo & reader suffer from relationship traumas (Camie & dabi are nasty exes), bakusquad are in a band, friend breakups & makeups

꒰ track list ꒱ ✩ Prelude: Holding onto Hope is a Different Kind of Pain ✩ Track One: Shine a Light into the Wreckage ✩ Track Two: Flowers Filled with Vitriol ✩ Track Three: Boulevard of (Broken?) Dreams ✩ Track Four: You Can Throw Me in the Deep End ✩ Track Five: Every Canvas that I Paint is a Masterpiece (of My Mistakes) ✩ Track Six: Band-Aids Don't Fix Bullet Holes ✩ Track Seven: Good Girls Stay Alive ✩ Track Eight: The End of Me, The End of Me ✩ Track Nine: If It Means A Lot To You ✩ Track Ten: Hand on the Throttle ✩ Bonus Track: We Are Distortion, 1-2-3-go!!

꒰ info ꒱ ✩ all characters are 24/25 years old ✩ reader co-owns an art gallery and has a BFA ✩ reader's artist alias is "glxtch" (glitch) ✩ bakugo drives a custom built orange & black Kawasaki Ninja ZX-6R ✩ relationships: momojiro, kirimina, ex-bakucamie, ex-dabi/reader

✩ band name: Distortion ✧ Kyoka Jiro | lead singer, electric guitar (Barista - Degree in Music Production) ✧ Denki Kaminari | electric guitar, backup vocals (Waiter) ✧ Eijiro Kirishima | bass, backup vocals (Bartender) ✧ Katsuki Bakugo | drummer, backup vocals (Bike Mechanic) ✧ Mina Ashido | keyboard, backup vocals (Makeup artist) ✧ Momo Yaoyorozu | band manager (Marketing assistant)

✩ vocal inspirations ✧ Kyoka Jiro ⇢  addie amick (halocene) ✧ Denki Kaminari ⇢  rory rodriguez (dayseeker) ✧ Eijiro Kirishima ⇢  tim mcilrath (rise against) ✧ Katsuki Bakugo ⇢  eric vanlerberghe & acoustic (i prevail - harsh vocals) ✧ Mina Ashido ⇢  maggie lindemann

꒰ mood board ꒱

✩ pinterest board ✩

꒰ playlist ꒱

⇢  tag list ; @/bells-28 @/simp-plague @/nemisimp @/hotttamalee @/mymysenpai @/ttulipwritezz @/bakunianadecorazon @/yoyolovesdaiki @/eeeeeevesstuff @/alloueate @/dollukisposts @/Rikakhai @/blazedbakugou @/lillizxzz ♡ last updated // 08.09.24 dividers, banners & moodboard by taurus-magicka

[cookii-moon]

ok ok so. I had.i had this thought. And I think it’d be really funny but only in the right situations.

so imagine if Cole could feel vibrations through the earth, right? Since that makes sense, and a lot of animals can do that anyways. but he doesn’t clock it as a master of earth thing. So he thinks it’s just. Like that for everybody.

so imagine he’s like sneaking around with the group, and to them, they’re like, the stealthiest ever!!! But since they’re so close Cole can sort of “hear” the vibrations of their steps so he’s like what the heck guys youre not stealthy at all we’re gonna get our cover blown!!!!! Because. He thinks they’re being really noisy. But really it’s just him that can hear them.

And ofc the others would be sort of like. Dude. We’re not making a single sound!!!, because to them they’re being very quiet, and so it’s sort of shrugged off as just. A Cole thing.

but snakes can also feel vibrations. So when the serpentine come up, imagine if they can ALSO hear the ninja and are just like smh you’re not good at sneaking at all. And obviously they’re really upset about this but also Cole is just taking it as an opportunity to go “i told you so”, the ninja STILL can’t hear their own or eachothers footsteps so they have no clue what’s up, but whatever, we’ll trust Cole!!!!

AND THEN JAY GETS SERPENTINE’D. And for a short while he can ALSO hear vibrations. So he’s like. Really confused before he notices, like wow,,,, I guess I just wasn’t listening well before!!! And then he realizes he’s becoming a snake, but he doesn’t connect the two until he turns back and suddenly he can’t hear it at all, and so now he’s 100% convinced that actually he was always right and Cole was always wrong and that no that’s just a serpentine thing.

but see now he’s just confused as to why Cole can feel them, because at that point they aren’t aware that the elemental powers weren’t just their weapons, and Cole’s been feeling them since day 1, but the fangpyre only got released recently and Cole’s been perfectly normal for the entire time he’s known him so like, he’s definitely not bitten or anything, so now he’s trying to argue with Cole that, no, they’re not loud, they’re being very stealthy, that’s just a serpentine thing and APPARENTLY also a Cole thing, no he does not know how they’re connected, and ALSO that Cole was JUST as loud as the others and he knows that because he could feel Cole’s footsteps too for a short time so he has ZERO right to bother Jay about it.

And like eventually itd just descends into a feud between Cole and Jay on whether theyre good at sneaking or not and the others just. Don’t even know at this point. They can’t be bothered. And then obviously they’ve found out Zane is a nindroid, so he can measure seismic and acoustic sounds, so he’d literally be able to tell, except he couldn’t be bothered getting involved, so the entire argument goes on for several seasons, up until the point where Jay asks Zane to help them figure it out and he’s just like. No that’s just a Cole thing he’s just hearing seismic frequencies lol. And jays just like. “WELL WHY DIDNT YOU TELL US THAT EARLIER?????”

And like at this point they would know about their powers so Cole would be forced to admit that no, he wasn’t right, he can just hear seismic frequencies, and by some chance, the very first villains they faced were serpentine who can also hear seismic frequencies, but for completely unrelated reasons. But he doesn’t want to admit that he’s been wrong for several years, so instead he’s decided that actually he was technically right and they weren’t stealthy during the serpentine fighting era because the serpentine COULD feel the vibrations thus making them not stealthy.

the others have decided that this is the best they’re ever going to get.

[the-ninjago-historian]

If the ninja were to play instruments, what instruments do you think they’d play?

Ooooooooo. Good question! Let's see now. Keep in mind I don't know much about instruments!

Cole: I've seen a lot of people pick drums for him. And I definitely agree! I feel like drums and earth powers fit really well. The vibrations from drums kinda remind me of earthquakes.

Nya: I don't know if you've heard of this instrument, but it's called a Kalimba. It looks like this.

It's very calming and to me, sounds like water. I feel like Nya might take it up as a calming hobby.

Zane: Acoustic guitar. Why? I don't know. It just fits. Lol. Probably piano too. I like the idea of Zane playing guitar for the team around a campfire.

Jay: Definitely electric guitar! I mean, what else would the master of lighting play? He could probably do some epic guitar riffs while charging up his guitar with his powers or something!⚡

Lloyd: I would say he'd pick something calming too, like Nya. So, maybe acoustic guitar too? It would be cute if Zane taught him how to play it.

Kai: I saved him for last since I genuinely couldn't think of something.😂 I've seen people actually just make him a really good singer, so I'll go with that! He probably has a pretty good singing voice. And it fits his personality.

Thanks for the ask!

[just-animaxiz]

I ain't taking crap from no big mouth!

FINALLY WE HAVE SPIKE - THE LEADER OF THE PUNK BOTS AND SCRAP CITY!

To be honest, Spike is pretty underrated in many forms! He not only saw the abuse happening to his people, but he started a revolt against his creators for making them this way. Their purpose, in the eyes of McFist, is to serve and do one job; however, failure costed them pain and suffering in a junkyard with nothing else around.

Even though they shared the common hate on the Ninja for destroying them and costing them their fates, Spike is more keen on manipulating and pushing down McFist. He's the one who made the big man think the robots still respect him, and he's the one who gave him what he wanted: Power.

The only secret is that Spike wanted him to feel that kind of power before he brought him down, similar to how McFist and Viceroy gave the robots their powers to destroy, only to be pushed down to a level because they are not humans - They are merely objects and obstacles.

Spike wanted McFist to taste the pain he made towards their "Robo-Manity."

And yet, even if McFist and Ninja still escape, Spike never gave up. Through his determination, he ran in full speed, jumped high to catch the flying van attached to the robot pterodactyl, and vowed that they're never escaping Scrap City that easy.

I do want more of him and hopefully other people like Destiny would see him in my view!

Now for some more headcannons!

Spike is not only the leader, but he works as their "surgeon" or mechanic. Whenever the bots need a fixer-upper, he comes in.

Spike's favorite instrument is the guitar. Acoustics or Electric, but he loves the way his hands strum against the strings.

At night, Spike sometimes gazes at the stars, seeing how beautiful they are but knowing that this might be the only beauty he saw in the prison he's in.

[the-ninja-legacy-whip]

What’s everyone’s musical abilities like?

Bwaaaah I know I've answered something like this before, but i'm sure it was a while ago, and thus probably on the other blog, and I don't feel like searching for it, and I'm sure my thoughts have changed....so! NEW THOUGHTS

(I know they're under influence of tea here but I've not only absorbed this into my psyche BUT it also supports my propaganda of Cole being left-handed ANYWAY–)

Kai: Can't actually play any kind of instrument, until taking up guitar lessons from Jay. Is also an insane singer when he really tries. (...I think I also gave him the saxophone in the past but I can't REMEMBER)

Jay: Has been noted to play electric guitar (not JUST under tea influence, y'all know he can shred as Superstar Rockin' Jay), but can't really play anything beyond that, though he has tried.

Cole: Dude, his dad is a musician and a producer; there's very few main instruments he can't play. His main go-tos are piano (as already seen), bass, acoustic guitar, and the drums, but his favorite thing is to DJ and make his own mixes when inspired. Can also play violin fluently, but hates the violin snksksnkn

Zane: I can see him playing keyboard, saxophone, clarinet, a little flute, and violin; just depends on if he's a classical mood or an experimental one. It's very easy for him to learn though due to Being Robot~

Nya: Has attempted every instrument she could get her hands on, but wound up taking to the drums (courtesy of Olivia)

Lloyd: Can't currently play an instrument, but as he now in band class, he'd better pick something! *cough* it's gonna be the flute in honor of his uncle *cough* Can also sing, but prefers to be backing vocals as opposed to the main event.

Jesse: Cannot play an instrument at all, but as demonstrated, can sing his little heart out when motivated (to the point that Cole manages to talk him into a recording a song or two with him heeheeee)

Olivia: DRUMMER (and a bit of bassist and singer when the mood strikes)

Antonia: Cannot play an instrument whatsoever; had to squeak by with the recorder when she was forced to take a music class

Harumi: Her uncle "encourages" her to learn an instrument to round out her skillset. She picks the harp.

Miranda: Can "play" the trumpet. ...just not well. Her real strength lies in utilizing a synthesizer.

Pixal: Can technically play any instrument, but is very....mechanical with her approach. She has been told her harmonica-playing is a favorite of others, however. (Zane has it recorded in the event that ninja find themselves in jail...which happens a lot?!?)

Skylor: She can play a ukelele, timpani drum, and steel drums!!

Sunni: She plays a mean clarinet!!! Was also in choir class with Jesse, so she's got a nice soprano voice on her too!

Harleigh: TAMBOURINE

[dontlookforme00]

NEW MORRO AU TIME!!

Info and images beneath the cut! Pls click for quality.

Ok, this is a song au, based off of these three songs: The Heart Acoustic, The Mind Electric, and The Soul Eclectic, all by Chonny Jash. If you don't already know them, please go listen to them in that order!

I've gotten really obsessed with them lately (thanks worm anon lmao) and I do what I do with all media I like, which is make it about Morro.

In this au, Morro developed some very specific mental disorder that split his personalities (possibly D.I.D?) that called themselves the Heart and Mind, and him the Soul. This is how I'll refer to them all from now on.

First up is the Heart.

He's basically a collection of Morro's childhood traumas, and is in constant agony because of how intense his emotions are. Heart can be very childlike.

He feels everything. He switches between being painfully empathetic, and having barely enough energy to empathise. He's kinda very depressed.

He hates the Mind because of how inhumane he is. He is very stubborn in this hatred.

Heart can be pretty useless, but it's not exactly his fault because yk, emotional agony. However, he shouldn't be underestimated. As the memory-holder of the system, he has the worst memories out of the three, and this trauma can cause violent outbursts. He can absolutely be dangerous.

He can also be reasonable, it's just that mind sends him over the edge so often.

I designed him around the outfit the ninja find on his skeleton in canon, and his green ninja outfit. Have fun w those connotations

Next up is the Mind.

This is supposed to be an embodiment of Wu's teachings, and how they affected him.

This is why he looks more adult, more grown than the others, and also had the braid (but longer) that Wu has in canon.

Because Mind is basically like Wu, and Heart is an embodiment of Morros traumas, you can imagine how very much they hate eachother.

In the song, Mind is a machine. In this au, he's not, but he's very robotic and very strict. Heart calls him a machine as an insult. Mind is kinda more of a "fighting machine", yk?

He's incredibly unemotional. Lacks empathy, only knows how to negotiate. He thinks very lowly of Heart for being so controlled by his emotions, because it means that Mind can't make the system to be the perfectly efficient machine he wants it to be.

He is very stubborn in this trying to convince Heart to suck it up and be just as robotic as he is.

Finally, the Soul.

This is basically just canon Morro.

Canon Morro except as he's carefully navigating his way through the Cursed Realm, he is in perpetual conflict because he can hear these two sides fighting day and night in his head, and he can't get them to shut up.

He is the host, and definitely has the most power over the system. He is also in control of the body most of the time, Heart and Mind-- when they're not endlessly fighting-- are trying to negotiate with Soul.

This is not a good thing for Soul lmao. Now he has to deal with bickering, and the occasional stubborn persuasion.

They both try so hard to convince him to get rid of the other, convince him that they're right, convince him to do anything, to help them both stuck forever in this hell with the person they hate most.

Mind tries to appeal to his desires, (quotes from the songs): "He's [Heart] a depressed fool. Abandon him and we could live so free."

Heart tries to appeal to his humanity; "He's [Mind] a damn madman. Is that the one you truly want to be?"

Ultimately, they have no real power over Soul, but Soul has all the power over them. So they whine and yell and try to convince him, but Soul isn't having any of it. He's developed a lack of empathy, because it is constantly being used against him.

So, he's very reckless and easily agitated, he's very quickly starting to go insane, and often lashes out in manic-like episodes. Sometimes at others, sometimes at Heart and Mind.

He keeps trying to shrug off these voices and they keep coming back. Every now and then, the voices stop, and he has a moment of clarity, and he breaks down, so scared and confused of what's happening, begging the outside world for help.

If he gets revived [idk yet] this will all persist into his life.

Keep in mind I'm just deriving all these personalities from the songs, so seriously, if you haven't, then go listen to them!! They're great songs!!

They'll provide great context and you'll probably understand what I'm saying even better.

Okkkk, I'll reblog this with some other pictures I've drawn of it, (other quotes from the songs lmaoo) so if you've read this far then omg tysm!!! :DDD

[lorepossum]

Random Redactedverse music headcannons!

Milo and Sweetheart have a joint playlist of just a blend of their favorite songs they have it playing when their place would otherwise be quiet (they dont really like the quiet much post-inversion, too easy to overthink in the quiet).

Second only to their… intimacy based noise complaints, are the complaints made against Asher and Baabe singing showtunes and disney songs far too loud in their kitchen at stupid times (neither of them can sing that well)

Another nickname Milo has for Sweetheart is “My Rosemary” because of the song by Edison Lighthouse. He sings it to them when it comes on their playlist.

Angel/Guy has the most chaotic taste in music you’ve ever heard.

David/Honey has most definitely found Angel/Guy in the kitchen dancing and lipsyncing to something chaotic af (ICP’s “Chop Chop Slide” comes to mind) at 3 in the morning

All of Vincent’s cars have AMAZING sound systems, Lovely just likes sitting in his cars and cranking the music to feel the bass.

This is basic, but please imagine Sam singing softly while playing acoustic guitar

“Freebird!” “Darlin’ I am not playin’ Freebird!” “….anyway here’s Wonderwall.”

David has a decent voice but hardly ever actually sings. Angel has to bully him into it.

D.A.M.N. Crew karaoke night. (Good at it; Gavin, Freelancer. Bad at it; Damien. Lasko has to have a few drinks before he’ll do it. Huxley can kill any song in his register; bass, it it’s higher than that he’s just having a good time)

Lovely is a concert gremlin and loves being in the pit. Vincent meanwhile has a weird love of musical theatre (William has standing box seats at Dahlia’s bigger theaters)

Guy has half of Ninja Sex Party’s songs memorized

[blu3cl0v3rs]

Summary: Morro does a little magic trick for Lloyd!

Warnings: None

Prompt: Wands | Illusions

Extra: An AU where Morro doesn't die, but rather gets extremely injured so he returns to the monastery. Also he meets Wu like 5-10 years before Wu recruits any of the ninja. Set in season 1 after Lloyd joins the ninja, but before Lloyd's revealed as the Green Ninja. I'm making Morro give everyone nicknames, so Lloyd is sometimes referred to as "Lulu".

"Be safe, Ninja," Wu said as the four ninja leaped from the flying ship with some 'whoops', their weapons transforming into vehicles as they fell. The other four on board, Nya, Wu, Lloyd, and Morro, watched until the color-coded ninja were out of sight.

"Are you sure you don't want me tailing them? You know they aren't the most careful, Sensei," Nya asked.

"Yes, I'm sure. I believe Jay has been… skimping out on his work on the Bounty, and you are the only other knowledgeable person on this ship on the inner workings of it," he replied. "Now then, I must meditate."

Morro watched as his sensei went inside. Nya sighed in disappointment as she stomped over to the control center to fix whatever Jay had left haphazardly unfinished. Lloyd groaned and slumped onto the railing of the airborne ship.

"Careful, a fall from this height could be a doozy," the elder cousin joked as he walked over, forearm crutches clicking on the old wooden deck.

He ruffled the blonde locks cut into a crude bowl cut, much to Lloyd's dismay, as the young blonde swatted away his cousin's scarred, calloused hand playfully.

"So what's got ya down, Lulu?" The wind master gazed at his usually hyper counterpart with concern.

"I jus- this is all my fault!" he yelled, frustratedly slamming his fist onto the railing. "I was the one who freed the Serpentine, I was the one who caused all this! An- and now the Ninja have to clean up after me, and I… I can't do anything to make up for it!" Droplets stung the corners of the blonde's eyes, throat seizing as he shoved his face further into the sleeves of his black hoodie.

Oh, Morro thought. In hindsight, he should've seen this coming. "No, Lloyd, this isn't all your fault. Well, yes it's mostly your fault-" Lloyd's wince did not reassure him that what he was saying was right. Well, sue him, he's shit at comforting people. "But you're not the only one to blame. You were sent to a school that idolized bad behavior and 'evil' acts, so when you were cast out you'd obviously want to prove yourself to them."

Morro locked eyes with his cousin, stormy grays of violent winds and gentle breezes to bloody reds. "But, you are making up for it. You obviously regret it, and jump on every opportunity to help right your wrongs."

Lloyd broke contact, mulling over his cousin's words.

"Besides, every great hero needs a tragic backstory and motive to be good," the gray eyed man joked.

Alright, Morro thought while looking at the blonde still sulking over his mistakes, that didn't work.

An idea sprung into his head, and the wind rustled in response, which peaked Lloyd's curiosity. As he peered over his sleeves, some sheets of origami paper glided over to the pair, then started intricately folding themselves into shapes. The younger watched, awestruck as the patterned papers formed into butterflies and birds and dragons. One even rolled up tightly into a wand-like stick, then handed itself to Morro. Once the papers finished folding themselves, a few instruments arrived as well; an acoustic bass guitar, a flute, and a viola levitated patiently, as if waiting to be conducted.

Morro slowly raised the paper wand, Lloyd watching the tip like a cat watching a laser pointer, then swung it down, then left, then right, then back up and repeated the pattern. The origami creatures swayed in dance slowly as the instruments began to play themselves. The bass strummed steadily, the viola bowed itself with a melancholy sound, and the flute hummed in harmony with the viola. The butterflies fluttered carelessly, the birds soared in simple patterns, and the dragons pranced along the railing.

Then, the bass froze, and the viola's sound became tense and angry as the dragons lunged after the birds and the flute quietly trilled high notes, adding to the new panicked sound. The butterflies flitter and dodge out of the way of the speeding chase between the birds and dragons. The bass struck back in harshly with firm chords, and the birds were cornered. The viola and bass softened and quieted down as the flute played a sorrowful, legato melody with the butterflies spinning above the dragons and beleaguered birds.

The butterflies dove, whacking the dragons away from the avian origami, in sync with the viola bowing out a high note. The bass struck chords as the dragons fought back, the flute and viola playing in harmony with each other as they struck together to beat the dragons.

The bass played an apologetic solo as the dragons lowered their heads in submission to the other creatures. The birds and butterflies accepted the dragons with a sweet trill and a few harsh notes from the flute and viola, respectively. The three types of origami beings then whirled together as the instruments played happily. Morro ended it with flair as the viola played a complicated lick, the bass belted one last chord, and the flute whistled with intense vibrato.

The elder dramatically threw the wand into the air as the paper origami settled to the deck, and the instruments returned from whence they came. Lloyd marveled over the display as he clapped.

"That was so cool! How did the instruments play by themselves? Did you use string to make the paper things move? Could I do that?! That was awesome!" He exclaimed, motioning his hands to accentuate his point.

Morro chuckled at his cousin's perkier mood. "It was all a little wind, Lulu. Nothing more."

Lloyd's eyes sparkled, an even deeper amount of respect growing for his black and green haired cousin. "That was just your powers! But… how? All those moving parts, I could never keep track of all of them! And you can play instruments without touching them? How long did that take? Isn't it suuuper hard to learn?"

"It's just years of practice. Wu taught me how to play the flute so I would be able to play the Sacred Flute, and I picked the bass and viola up because string instruments sound cool."

"I thought it was called a violin?"

"That's a different instrument. A viola sounds lower than a violin."

"Ohhhhhh. Cool!"

"Yes, very cool.

[zomb-creechur]

hey did u kno i rlly like the ninja turtles

tmnt friends pls i need to be acoustic with someone

[goodlucktai]

i’ve got my eye on you

tmnt 2k12 pairing: don & mikey word count: 2k title borrowed from say yes to heaven by lana del ray

read on ao3

x

“Mikey?” Donnie says, hovering in the doorway uncertainly. “Can I talk to you?”

Mikey looks up from the dough he’s kneading with round eyes, more bewildered than anything. No one ever asks if they can talk to Mikey. His presence in his family’s lives is like sunlight falling on the planet, warm and touching everything and taken for granted. They can always talk to Mikey.

So Don’s question is a weird one, but Mikey doesn’t mention it.

“Pull up some counter, Dee,” he offers instead, patting at the one square foot of the surface that isn’t covered in flour. His fingers leave little clouds behind. “I’m almost done.”

Donnie props his hip against the island and leans there to watch his little brother work. Mikey’s ADHD is textbook in a lot of ways, unpredictable in many others; it’s definitely been a fun learning curve for his family. Don did a lot of research. He’s read that generally people with Mikey’s disorder tend to struggle with tasks like cooking, that it can be an outright Herculean task remembering to eat or even just mustering the energy to feed themselves.

But Mikey loves his kitchen. He gravitates towards it in all his different moods. It gives his pinballing thoughts and restless hands something constructive to focus on with a clear and present reward at the end.

Right now he seems pleased with the dough and gathers it up in a neat little ball before transferring it to a greased mixing bowl and covering it tightly with plastic wrap. When the bowl has been safely stored in the fridge to proof, Donnie joins Mikey in wiping down the counter, mostly for something to do with his hands.

Something’s baking in the oven. Music is playing on Mikey’s phone across the room, acoustic and downbeat and soothing. This room is where everyone in their entire extended family comes to feel safe, even if they don’t know or won’t admit it.

“So listen,” Don finally says. “About earlier. During the race?”

A grin splits Mikey’s face, likely remembering all the fun he had. They’d been looking forward to the ninja race for weeks, ever since Leo first floated the idea.

Leo has come a long way as sensei. It was hard at first, finding his feet, acclimating to this additional burden piled on top of all the ones he already had to carry, but maybe not as hard as it should have been. Leo has always been more of a second parent than a sibling to the rest of them. He’s always been the one they ran to first, even when Splinter was alive; the boy who had to grow up too fast, the one who tried his dad’s oversized jacket on over and over through the years until one day he was surprised to find he had outgrown it.

All this to say—Leo can always tell when his little siblings and pseudo-siblings are due for a break. He poured hours into planning this event, all for his tiny clan of six, and it really showed. The race was part relay, part scavenger hunt, stretching for miles back and forth across Manhattan.

They drew cards out of a bucket to decide pairs, divvying up into three teams of two. When Casey drew the card that matched Mikey’s, he lit up with a manic grin and whipped his head around, a reaction Donnie wasn’t expecting.

“Oh hell yeah!” the human whooped, lifting both hands over his head for a double high-five. “We’re gonna make this night our bitch!”

“Language!” Leo barked, scandalized, like they each hadn’t already heard—and said—a lot worse.

Mikey, for his part, slapped his palms against Casey’s, giggling madly. Donnie looked between the two of them with a frown forming on his face. He had the distinct feeling that he missed something. They all tended to live out of each other’s pockets anymore, trauma-bonding at its worst. Its best? Whatever. If Mikey and Casey were buddies, Donnie would know.

They were both adrenaline junkies, sure. They both liked going fast, living on the edge. As a ninja clan, that was sort of the norm anyway.

But Mikey in particular could outrun anyone in his family any day of the week. Nothing moved fast enough for him. They tried to keep up with him, but sometimes he got too far ahead. He wanted to walk on his hands to feel the grit of asphalt on his palms and the blood rush to his head, or spin in circles in front of the stove while the water boiled, or cartwheel during katas because morning meditation ran too long and his full quota of focus was all used up.

Understimulated, touch-starved, eager for attention, desperate for—something.

Donnie just didn’t realize how desperate until he and Leo crossed paths with Casey and Mikey halfway through the race. From the rooftop, Donnie could see that the token the other boys were gunning for was on the opposite side of the BQE—across five lanes, up on the massive signage structure towering above the expressway. They were on the wrong side when they spotted it.

Smugly, Donnie thought, Tough luck—they’ll have to find a way around. That’s gonna cost them some time.

And then Mikey flew over the guardrail, sprinting straight out into traffic.

Donnie’s heart jumped up into his throat and stayed there.

He was rooted to the spot, like someone watching a train barrel down the tracks toward an inevitable collision. His body forgot how to breathe.

It took his little brother all of fifty seconds to dodge box trucks and SUVs like it was a children’s game, to a chorus of blaring horns from drivers that did not slow down. An eighteen-wheeler missed him by a foot.

Mikey scaled the structure, retrieved the token, and shoved it into the pocket of his over-sized hoodie. Then he waved both arms back at Casey, and pointed down at the guardrail immediately behind him, clearly indicating that they should regroup underneath the overpass. They both disappeared from view on their respective sides of the freeway, off to the next leg of the scavenger hunt.

Don just stood there numbly watching cars go by until Leo doubled back for him.

Raphael and April won the race by all of four minutes—and with it bragging rights to last the next two months, unfortunately for everyone else—but Mikey was in high spirits the whole way home anyway, bouncing with every step. Their brothers must have assumed it was those endorphins from a full night of high-speed play doing their job.

Leo rubbed the top of Mikey’s head with his knuckles fondly, and Raph said something like, “God, you just don’t slow down, do ya?” because they had no idea. They didn’t see it.

Donnie trailed silently at the back of the group, heart pounding so hard he could feel it in his throat, his eyes, his hands. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Mikey, afraid of what might happen if he let his guard down for even a second, replaying that scene on the expressway over and over and over. It took him hours to muster the courage to finally approach his baby brother in the kitchen.

And now they’re standing here together, and Mikey is humming under his breath, hands beginning to tap restlessly on the countertop. Donnie’s going to lose him in a matter of minutes. Trying to think of a delicate way to say it is getting him nowhere. He takes a page out of Raph’s book and just barrels in.

“I saw you run across the BQE for a token,” he blurts.

Mike tilts his head the way Icky does when she hears something she doesn’t understand. On one hand, he doesn’t deny he did it. On the other, more alarming hand, he also looks blatantly confused about why Donnie thinks it’s worth a discussion.

“We had to get the tokens to win,” Mikey points out, like Don isn’t the one who helped Leo with the rules and regulations.

Clenching his fists, and then folding his arms so Mikey can’t see his fists are clenched, Donnie says, “You wanted to win that bad, Mike?”

He can’t stop seeing the speeding cars; the smear of headlights in the dark; Mikey weaving his way across the lanes, his figure tiny and almost indistinguishable from the rooftop where Don was watching.

Donnie’s remarkable imagination provided the additional details: the way displaced air would have sucked at Mikey’s clothes at each near miss. The sting of the hot asphalt under his feet. The passing lights lighting up his face in fits and bursts, for seconds at a time, and maybe something distracted him—maybe there was a piece of glass or metal on the road and it cut him or he tripped—maybe a reckless driver merged lanes without warning—maybe, maybe, maybe one of a hundred things happened and Mikey was captured or maimed or killed, ripped away from his family because of a stupid, needless risk he took during a game.  

They’ve been dragged through war, outer space, time travel. They’ve all been hurt before, in big ways and small ones. It's just. It’s different this time, because it was a game.

Maybe Donnie should be angry at Casey for enabling this behavior. Casey may not be their brother by blood but he’s their brother by every other known metric science has to offer and he should have dragged Mikey off the expressway by the hood of his stupid pink sweatshirt and lit into him for being so reckless the way Leo, April, Raph and Donnie all would have.

But Casey has his own reasons for doing what he does—a dead mom, an alcoholic father, a little sister CPS took away—and if he were a regular, neurotypical, well-adjusted teenager, he never would have put on his painted mask in the first place. He never would have fallen into Donnie’s family.

Casey would have been the one to run into traffic if Mikey hadn't beaten him to it.

Like recognizes like. That’s why they were thrilled to be on each other’s team. They’re both chasing something. They both have too much going on inside their heads to ever just be still.

And Mikey is always all smiles, always the first to offer his siblings a hug or a shoulder to lean on or a safe place to hide from the rest of the world and something sweet to eat in the meantime. Mikey, who hasn’t cried in front of his brothers once since the night their father died, who hasn’t come into Donnie’s lab after a nightmare in even longer than that. He smiles and plays and supports everyone and gives them reasons to run and shout and vent frustrations and groan in exasperation and laugh until they get sick.

No one has to ask the sun to shine, it just does that. And it will until it runs out of fuel, some five billion years from now. The star death was always going to be inevitable. Constant output, finite resources. Nuclear fusion that will hopefully last for as long as it needs to, but not forever.

The sun will get tired one day, and then it’s not going to shine anymore.

“Dee?” Mikey says loudly, in a tone that makes it sound like he’s been saying it over and over. Donnie blinks and he’s back in the kitchen, and Mikey is in front of him, more than a bit confused, more than a bit worried, but here and safe and whole.

Not even a scratch. If Don hadn’t seen it, he never would have known it happened.

He unfolds his arms and opens them. He doesn’t need to say anything for his little twin to spring forward, their plastrons colliding with a solid knock that would have winded a human person. The counters are clean but Mikey is still covered in flour and so Don is covered in flour now, too, and it’s wafting to the floor in tiny cloudbursts every time they move.

It’s the kind of mess Splinter would have made them stop and clean up. But it’s not hurting anything to let the kitchen be a little messy. And it’s Mikey’s kitchen. It’s the one place in the world where what he says goes.

He winds his smaller arms around Donnie’s shell and squeezes as tight as he can. Smushes his cheek against Don’s shoulder because he isn’t tall enough to hook his chin over it the way he’d probably like to. He’s warm and he smells like butter and baked bread and summer and boy. He’s survived every single thing he’s ever done.

Donnie closes his eyes and tries to replace the lights he can still see on the freeway with the ones here at home.  

“Can I be on your team next time?” he says.

“Hell yeah, let’s do it,” Mikey agrees instantly. His voice is shaped so much like a toothy grin that Don can see it without looking. Mike doesn’t even know why he’s promising it, just that Donnie needs him to. “We’ll do a clean sweep, nobody’ll know what hit ‘em. B Team’s the Best Team, baby!”

He’s everything warm and light and safe about Donnie’s whole world, and he doesn’t seem to understand how dark every day would be without him. He doesn’t know what he would be taking from his family if he took himself away.

Donatello’s other siblings are self-destructive in obvious ways. Michelangelo, who is loud and obnoxious and has never known a secret he could keep for longer than a day, is somehow more subtle about it.

But now Donnie sees it. He knows what to look for.