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Finally had motivation to draw them after seeing art of them everywhere

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Okay carlos i see what you got going🤨

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HES LITERALLY A BABY WHAT THE HELL

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Anndddd who gave him permission to look like this?

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If you guys have any ideas for the next chapter of fault lines plz message me!!

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Must’ve been the wind…

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Has anyone seen juanki posing like this?

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girl the fault lines slow burn is KILLING me, please tell me we’re getting the spicy stuff soon 🙌🏼

Ahhh idk im still thinking about jow the next few chapters will go but ill definitely try to add some stuff in!!

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https://www.tumblr.com/g0g-urt/786522666024812544/is-buzzcutcaraz-your-favorite-carlos-because

Ahahahah no I’m not the other ones sorry if the question gets annoying

No no its not annoying at all but the amount just surprised me since i dont get many asks at all and whenever i do its about buzz cut carlos and it kills me every time😭

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Fault Lines 6

It was the middle of the week and the entire resort felt different.

People were starting to arrive for the charity events. The courts were busier, the lobby louder, and photographers had started hanging around the fences again. Every time you stepped outside, you could feel the pressure building. Something big was coming. You were trying not to let it get to you. But it did.

The only time it stopped was when you were with him.

Carlos had spent the last few nights in your hotel room. Not sleeping there, not officially. Just staying late. Watching Netflix with you on the couch. Stealing your snacks and letting you rest your head on his shoulder without saying anything about it.

That night, you were sitting together again, your legs stretched out across his lap while he played with your ankle absentmindedly. He had one hand on your shin, fingers tracing gentle shapes over your bare skin while you scrolled through your phone. It was such a small thing. Soft. Natural. Familiar. But it made your heart race.

You glanced at him. He was leaning back against the arm of the couch, head tilted, curls slightly messy from your pillow. His focus was on his screen but his fingers never stopped moving against your leg.

“This is getting weird,” you said quietly.

Carlos looked up, amused.

“What is?”

“This. Us. This thing we’re doing where I fall asleep on you and you steal my fruit gummies and we pretend it’s nothing.”

He smiled but didn’t look away.

“You want it to be nothing?”

You opened your mouth, then closed it again. The silence answered for you.

Carlos reached out and tugged gently on the waistband of your hoodie, pulling you forward. You shifted, ending up curled sideways into his chest. His arms wrapped around you without hesitation and your cheek pressed against his collarbone.

You stayed there like that. Breathing him in. Letting the warmth soak into your skin. You could hear his heartbeat. Steady. Calm. Like this was just normal. Like holding each other too long was fine.

His hand rested on your lower back and didn’t move.

“You never answer that question,” he said softly.

“Because I don’t know,” you whispered.

“I think you do.”

You turned your face against his chest.

“I don’t want to ruin this. Whatever this is.”

Carlos leaned down and his nose brushed against your hair. He spoke against your forehead.

“You’re not going to ruin anything. You could never ruin this.”

You stayed there. Still. Warm. Quiet.

Eventually you tilted your head and looked up at him. His eyes were already on yours. Close enough to count the eyelashes. Close enough to feel the heat between you buzz under your skin.

Your fingers found the hem of his shirt and played with the fabric.

“You think we’re friends?”

Carlos breathed out a laugh.

“I think we stopped being just friends the second I let you fall asleep on my chest and didn’t want you to move.”

Your chest tightened.

“So what are we?”

He shook his head.

“I don’t know. But I don’t want it to end.”

Neither did you.

He touched your face gently. Just the tips of his fingers along your jaw. A brush of his thumb under your chin. Not quite a kiss. Not yet. But your body reacted like it was. Your heart flipped. Your breath caught.

You didn’t kiss him.

But you wanted to.

And you knew he wanted to too.

His hand slid into your hair and held there. Not pulling. Not pushing. Just staying.

You let your forehead fall against his and closed your eyes.

“It’s going to get harder after this week,” you whispered.

“I know.”

“You’re gonna get busy. So will I.”

He nodded.

“And people will talk.”

“They already are.”

That made you laugh a little, even though it wasn’t funny.

His thumb brushed the edge of your bottom lip, then pulled away.

“You want to stop this before it gets messier?”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. Because the idea of stopping hurt more than anything else.

“I want to keep this,” you said instead. “Even if it’s messy. Even if it’s not perfect.”

Carlos leaned back just enough to see your eyes.

“Then we’ll keep it.”

You curled into him again and his arms closed around you. You stayed there. Too long. Close enough that if anyone walked in, they’d assume the two of you were something official.

But no one walked in.

And you didn’t pull away.

And neither of you said what you really wanted to.

Not yet.

——————————————

The morning of the charity match started early. You barely slept. Nerves buzzed under your skin like caffeine. When you reached the player gym you found Carlos already there. He was dressed in a black sleeveless shirt and fitted shorts, stretching on a mat with his curls damp from a shower. His eyes lit up the second he saw you.

You dropped your bag beside him and sat cross-legged on the mat.

He handed you a resistance band without a word. You smiled, taking it with steady hands that betrayed how restless you felt. He noticed but didn’t say anything. Instead he moved beside you and started showing you the shoulder warm-up he always used before matches. You followed him in silence. Every now and then your hands brushed. He kept looking at you out of the corner of his eye. It was calming in a way nothing else was.

“You ready for this?” he asked finally as he stood and offered you a hand.

You took it.

“Ready enough.”

Carlos pulled you up easily. His hand lingered on yours a second longer than necessary.

You walked toward the courts together in that quiet not-quite-a-relationship way that said everything without saying a word.

The court was packed. People filled every seat. Cameras clicked. Broadcasters buzzed in the background. It should have overwhelmed you. But Carlos stood beside you and that helped. The moment before you stepped onto the court he leaned in and whispered low enough for only you to hear.

“Doesn’t matter what happens out there. You’re not doing it alone.”

You glanced at him. He gave you the softest smile. You nodded.

The match was fun. Fast. Competitive but not cutthroat. The two of you played like you had done it for years. He set you up at the net again and again. You returned the favor with sharp angles and low slices that made the crowd cheer. When you missed a point he clapped for you anyway. When he hit a ridiculous drop shot you rolled your eyes and called him annoying. He grinned like it was the best compliment.

You both won.

Barely.

But it felt like winning something more than a match.

The room was dark when you got back to the hotel. You kicked off your shoes and sank onto the bed. Carlos followed after and flopped beside you with a soft groan.

“I can’t feel my legs.”

You turned your head to look at him.

“I carried the match.”

He cracked an eye open and gave you a lazy smirk.

“You carried my water bottle. I did the rest.”

You reached over and lightly smacked his chest. He caught your hand and didn’t let go.

You both went quiet.

The room felt like a cocoon. Thick with the kind of silence that held meaning. You could still hear the cheers echoing in your head. You could still feel the adrenaline in your veins. But under that was the slow pull of something more tender. More dangerous.

Carlos let out a long breath and turned onto his side to face you. His hand stayed wrapped around yours.

“You were incredible today.”

“You too.”

He reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. The touch was careful. Thoughtful. It made your heart stutter.

“I meant what I said this morning. You weren’t alone.”

You didn’t respond right away.

Then you whispered

“I’ve never felt that before. Not like this.”

His eyes searched yours.

“Good. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

You stayed there. Staring at him. Breathing him in.

Neither of you moved to kiss. Neither of you needed to.

Instead you curled into his side and rested your head against his chest. His arm wrapped around your back without hesitation. He pressed his lips to your forehead and stayed there.

It was not a confession.

It was not a promise.

But it felt like both.

And that was enough for now.

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Is BuzzcutCaraz your favorite Carlos? Because everytime I see a pic of him with a buzzcut I think of your account 😭

Im pretty sure ive gotten an ask about buzzcut Carlos around 3-4 times already and im not even sure if its the same account😭 but again yeah its probably number 2 on the list depending on the way he gets it

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Guys his voice is so hot💔

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my god the ending??! "Eventually, his fingers started trailing gentle patterns on your thigh, slow and soothing, like he was tracing a map only he could read."

ugh so beautiful 🥹

Thank u!! Im just so glad that i finally got to progress with their relationship in the story because i feel like ive been prolonging it too much so im happy to actually write them doing something

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Fault Lines 5

Guys im running out of ideas wth☹️

The sun in Melbourne hit different. It was hot and relentless despite it being the beginning of January. You stepped off the plane exhausted, sweat clinging to your back, and hair sticking to your neck. The jet lag hadn’t hit yet but it was waiting.

And so were the cameras.

As soon as you and Carlos emerged from the terminal, flashes went off like fireworks. Carlos’ PR manager quickly handed you a pair of sunglasses before you could blink.

“Smile, don’t speak.” His manager said.

But you didn’t smile.

You didn’t flinch either, even as the reporters continuously shouted “Are you two doubles and dating now?” Followed by a second reported shouting, “How long have you been dating for?”

Carlos didn’t respond and continued walking. His shoulder or fingers would brush tours every now and then from the closeness of your position.

The car ride to the hotel was silent. It was unusual compared to the regular conversations his team have in the van with each other about anything and everything.

The hotel lobby was sleek and elegant. Marble floors, weird water fountains, and clean, fancy elevators. You already hated it.

The concierge handed you your keycard and Carlos his while smiling way too brightly. “You’ve got the corner suite, Miss-“

“Yeah, thanks.” You cut her off.

Carlos didn’t say anything before you stepped into the elevator and the doors shut before finally breaking the silence.

“You okay?”

You turned toward him, jaw tight. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

He furrowed his brows. “You were quiet.”

“I’m tired.”

“Is that all?”

You sighed as the elevator doors opened, letting in a cold rush of the hotel air. You stepped out, not turning to look at Carlos.

“Maybe I just don’t like being treated like I’m one half of a headline.”

Carlos followed, slow and steady. “You’re not.”

“Really? Because that’s all anyone sees nowadays.”

He didn’t answer immediately. You swiped your card and pushed the door open. You entered as Carlos stayed in the doorway. The inside was perfect. It was luxury. Floor to ceiling windows, and complimentary wine on the nightstand that you would never drink.

“I don’t see you that way.” He finally responded.

You stayed in the same position. “Well, you don’t get to choose how the rest of the world views me.”

“No. But I can remind you of who you are whenever they forget.”

That made you pause.

You stood there, one hand still on your suitcase, staring at the reflection at both of you on the window. You were tired of everything. The flight, the fans, and this whole situation with your unresolved feelings for Carlos.

“Come in,” you said quietly as you shut the door after him.

You collapsed onto the stainless white sheets of the hotel bed face first into the pillows and groaned. It felt like heaven. “This place smells like detergent and regret.”

Carlos laughed. “Luxury.”

He sat on the edge of the bed beside you. Not touching. Not pressing. Just there.

“I keep waiting for this to stop feeling weird,” you mumbled.

“What does?”

“This. Us. The match. Everything. I feel like I’m waiting for something to crash.”

Carlos paused for a second.

Then quietly continued. “Maybe it’s not a crash, maybe it’s a shift.”

You turned your head toward him.

He looked down at you, hair still slightly messy, shirt creased from travel. He didn’t look like a superstar right now. He looked like a boy who stayed up with you on a plane just to make sure you slept through the turbulence.

“I know we really haven’t… defined anything.” He said. “And I know we probably shouldn’t. Not now. Not here.”

Your chest tightened.

“But if it helps,” he added, softer now, “I want you to know that I’m here. Not just for the cameras. Not just for the match.”

You sat up slowly, knees tucked under you, heart thudding.

“I don’t need promises,” you said.

“I’m not offering any,” he replied. “Just honesty.”

You nodded, biting your lip.

Then, quieter “Stay a little?”

Carlos didn’t answer.

He just kicked off his shoes, climbed onto the other side of the bed, and settled in beside you, not touching, not rushing, not trying to turn it into anything it wasn’t.

Just there.

And for the first time since landing, you let yourself breathe.

——————————————

It was close to midnight when the jet lag kicked in. Not the exhausted kind, but the restless kind. You dozed off for a while after Carlos left, drifting in and out with the glow of the city lights pressing through the curtains. But your body felt weightless. Sleep wouldn’t come.

The silence of the hotel room buzzed in your ears, and despite the plush bed, the cold sheets, and the exhaustion lining your bones, something was missing.

Or someone.

You stared at the ceiling for a minute longer before you gave in. You slipped on your slippers and got up, heart thudding. The hotel’s hallway was dim and quiet. His room wasn’t far. You remembered the number. He made sure to tell you, like he didn’t care if you used it.

You hesitated in front of the door.

You shouldn’t knock.

You should go back.

You knocked.

It was soft. Barely audible.

But a few seconds later, the door creaked open, and there he was.

Carlos looked like he hadn’t even tried to sleep. His hair was messier now, hoodie hanging loose on his frame, eyes dark with that same exhausted feelint you felt. He leaned on the doorframe, one brow raised.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked quietly.

You nodded. “You?”

He tilted his head, thinking before replying. “Wasn’t sure if I should text you first.”

You cracked a small smile, brushing your fingers over the hem of your oversized shirt. “Why didn’t you?”

“Didn’t want to cross a line.”

You looked at him, eyes holding. “I knocked, didn’t I?”

He stepped aside and let you in.

The room smelled faintly like him, clean and warm, with a trace of his cologne still hanging in the air. The lights were low, one lamp by the bed casting a soft yellow glow over everything.

You sat on the edge of the bed. Carlos stayed standing for a moment, then finally crossed the room and dropped into the chair across from you. Legs spread, hoodie sleeves pushed halfway up his arms.

“I don’t know what we’re doing,” you admitted after a long silence.

He looked at you. Really looked. “Me either.”

“That should scare me more than it does.”

Carlos smiled a little, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You’ve got that look.”

“What look?”

“The one you get when you’re about to overthink everything and run.”

You exhaled. “I don’t want to run.”

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Then don’t.���

Your eyes flicked to his mouth for a second too long. He noticed. He always noticed.

“I’m not going to push,” he said, voice lower now. “You come to me when you’re ready.”

You stood slowly, walking toward him without thinking. Your slippers made no sound against the carpet. His breath caught a little when you stopped right in front of him.

“I don’t know what I want,” you whispered.

Carlos looked up at you. “You don’t have to.”

You reached down, hesitantly, slowly, and let your fingers graze his. His hand turned upward to meet yours without hesitation.

And then, like it was the most natural thing in the world, he pulled you into his lap.

Not to kiss you.

Not to undress you.

Just to hold you.

Your legs folded across his, your arms sliding around his neck. His face nuzzled into your shoulder, breathing you in like he needed you all day and only just now allowed himself to admit it.

His voice was muffled, warm against your skin.

“I’ve missed this version of you.”

“What version?”

“The one that doesn’t hide.”

Your throat tightened.

“I missed you too,” you said, softer than you meant to.

Neither of you moved. Neither of you tried to make it more than it was. You stayed there for a long time, two hearts synced in the middle of a city that didn’t know or care what was happening behind hotel doors.

Eventually, his fingers started trailing gentle patterns on your thigh, slow and soothing, like he was tracing a map only he could read.

You didn’t stop him.

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Do you think you’d ever do a part two for Just Friends.. Nothing More?

I have but I’m not too sure what i would write since my original plan for it wasn’t supposed to really have a happy ending but if you guys are open to giving me idea i wouldnt mind trying to maybe write one

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omg fault line is so good

im quite literally kicking my feet and giggling while reading it <33

Ahh thanks so much! You guys are so sweet!

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Fault Lines 4

It might take me longer now to write and post since all my free time is gone😭

The morning light slipped through your curtains as you finished tying your shoelaces. Your tennis bag hanging off one shoulder and small suitcase which hold your clothes lying on the floor.

Carlos was already waiting outside for you to finish getting ready. Whenever he saw you, his smile slowly grew on his face, the kind that made your heart flutter unexpectedly.

Things had completely changed between you. At the start, you didn’t even want to get out of bed because then it meant you would have to train with him. You didn’t want to hear his snarky comments and dirty looks. But now it’s different. You’re closer and he’s much sweeter and softer towards you now and that makes your heart beat faster than it ever did for him.

“I’m impressed,” he said, stepping forward and helping you with your baggage while carrying his own. “You actually got everything packed” he joked.

You rolled your eyes but laughed. You constantly found yourself wanting to be closer to him, talk to him, make jokes with him, and surprisingly found yourself wanting to be his.

——————————————

The airport was chaotic, just how you knew it would be. The reporters buzzed around you asking about the charity match and the cameras flashing all in your faces. His team quickly rushed us out of there and into our gate.

Carlos was beside you, calm and collected like always, but there was an edge to him today. Maybe it was the pressure of the upcoming tournament. Or maybe it was the way he kept stealing glances at you when he thought you weren’t looking.

You shuffled forward in line, suitcase wheels scraping the floor. Your heart pounded. Not from the crowd, but from the way his hand brushed yours ever so lightly when you both reached for the coffee cup on the kiosk counter earlier.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice,” you muttered.

Carlos smirked. “Notice what?”

“That ‘accidental’ touch.”

He leaned closer, voice low enough to be only for you. “I’m going to have to be more careful, then.”

You narrowed your eyes but couldn’t stop the small smile that crept up.

Check-in was a blur. Security felt like a it took forever, but once you were through, you found yourselves in a quiet corner near the gate.

Carlos slumped into the seat, pulling off his cap and running a hand through his hair. “You ready for this?”

You shrugged. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

He watched you closely. “You’re going to kill it.”

“You sound like you’re trying to psych me out.”

The announcement for your flight echoed through the terminal, and you both gathered your things.

On the plane, you managed to snag seats next to each other. A small win. The hum of the engines filled the space between you, but neither of you spoke at first.

Then, as the seatbelt sign flicked off, Carlos reached over, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face.

“Hey,” he whispered. “Look at me.”

You did, heart skipping.

He smiled, a soft, genuine thing that made your chest tighten.

“Whatever happens in Australia… we’ll figure it out.”

You swallowed, nodding.

——————————————

The cabin lights dimmed as the plane climbed higher into the dark sky, the buzz of conversation and clinking drink carts slowly fading into a hushed lull.

You leaned back into your seat, arms crossed, eyes trained on the tiny screen in front of you, pretending to watch the movie you’d halfheartedly picked. But your mind wasn’t really in it. It was already in Melbourne. Already spiraling through everything that could go wrong.

You didn’t notice how tightly your hand was gripping the blanket until Carlos reached over and gently covered your fingers with his own.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice low and warm in the cabin’s hush. “You good?”

You hesitated. “I’m fine.”

He gave you a look.

You sighed and turned your head to him, voice barely above a whisper. “What if I mess up? Like… what if this whole thing blows up in my face? The match, the media, us…”

Carlos didn’t say anything right away. Just let the silence hold, like he knew you needed space to let it out. Then he gently pulled the blanket up over both of your legs and shifted a little closer.

“Listen to me,” he said, his voice even softer now, like a secret meant only for you. “You could lose every point in that charity match and still be the most dangerous person on that court.”

You snorted quietly. “Thanks?”

He smiled. “I mean it. People can say whatever they want about your record, about the media, about us. But none of it changes what you are.”

“And what’s that?”

His eyes lingered on yours, unwavering. “Relentless. Honest. Stupidly talented. And yeah… kind of terrifying in the best way.”

You rolled your eyes, but your lips tugged upward. “You forgot complicated.”

“Oh, that too. But I like complicated.” His thumb brushed over your knuckles. “And I’m not scared of you. I want to be here. Even if it’s messy. Even if we don’t have all the answers.”

Something inside you shifted. Something warm and deep and scary. You leaned your head slightly against the seat, close enough to feel the heat radiating off him.

“Even if I lose?” you murmured.

“Especially if you lose,” he said. “Because that’s when people need someone in their corner the most.”

You stayed quiet for a long moment. Then you tilted your head, resting it lightly on his shoulder.

“You always say the right thing, don’t you?”

“I try,” he murmured, leaning his head gently against yours. “Mostly I just mean it.”

There weren’t any grand declarations or dramatic confessions. Just the subtle weight of his hand on yours, the steady rhythm of your breaths syncing as you both looked out the tiny window beside you.

It wasn’t victory.

It wasn’t peace.

But it was calm.

And maybe that was enough. For now.