#seriously though these next few scenes that I'm writing

[littlegrapejuice]

Grid Mum 2 | MV1

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: Growing attached to the rookies meant that you now cared for them off track as well. So when some of them are not treated well by their teams, you and Max take your role of grid parents very seriously.

Author's Note: ok so i usually don't plan on doing part 2 for my fics but @robinivoryanvalentine gave me ideas and this lil thing was born ig so shout out to them🫶🏻 i have one request left that I'm hoping to write soon now that it's FINALLY school break and i hope I'll also get some inspo w the rest of the triple header🙂‍↕️

F1 MASTERLIST🏎 | Previous Part | Next Part

From the moment you had accepted that Max’s grid kids were also yours in the process, you had thought that your interactions with them would only be during race weekends. However, when you saw that some drama was already happening even though the season had barely started, you decided that the rookies would become both your on and off track children.

It had begun with Jack.

You had never been Alpine’s biggest fan – you mostly considered Esteban and Pierre as acquaintances during the previous season – and it had gotten worse when Flavio was back in the paddock. Still, you were glad for Jack when it was announced that he would get a full-time seat for the 2025 season – although it was a shit move from Alpine to sack Esteban for the last grand prix of 2024.

The drama had started a bit after Alpine announced their reserve drivers for 2025. First, Paul Aaron. He was a good driver, and had done a good F2 season, despite the insane amount of car issues he had suffered from. Then, Franco Colapinto. Having raced for a third of the 2024 season with Williams, Franco had quickly become a fan favourite due to this charming personality.

The issue wasn’t Alpine having two reserve drivers – it was honestly quite usual. No, the actual issue lay in fans already expecting Jack’s downfall so that Franco could take his place. Everyone was claiming that Jack only had the first five races to prove himself, and then it would be goodbye for him.

Then, it got even worse. Shortly after the New Year, Alpine announced their third reserve driver. You remembered seeing the news and being really surprised because “why do they need so many plans b?” – that’s what you had said to Max, who had agreed and had then proceeded to diss the French team for the next few minutes. And if you thought that they were done, you were wrong because Alpine waited until a few days before the first race of the season to announce their fourth reserve driver.

You truly hoped that Jack wasn’t too stressed about it, but the latest season of Drive To Survive showed you that he definitely was. The scene between Jack and Flavio in the latter’s office had truly scared you, and you couldn’t imagine the amount of pressure they were putting on the Aussie.

It also didn’t help when Jack DNFed at his home race, which led to the fans clearly awaiting the day when Alpine would replace him with Franco. The dinner you had invited him to along with the other rookies had helped, but you knew that it was only temporary comfort until the following races. The next week in China had been a bit better: Jack had finished 13th after the three DSQs, which wasn’t so bad, but you had seen the comments everywhere. ‘Fans’ were still dreaming of Franco taking his seat, not caring one bit about Jack.

You were truly saddened by the situation. Jack didn’t deserve that kind of reaction – no driver did. The only thing he deserved was the opportunity to prove himself, and his full potential couldn’t be seen after two races.

Two. races. were. not. enough.

And yet, it wasn’t Alpine that was currently at the origin of your newly-found anger. No, right now, you were only mad at one team: Red Bull Racing.

You had seen the rumours online. You had heard about them in the paddock. You hadn’t wanted to believe them; they were rumours for a reason. So when Max told you the news before it would be public, you thought he had been messing with you. You had been back in Monaco in your shared flat, when he announced it to you:

“Don’t be mad but…” Max waited for you to look at him before he kept talking. “They’re dropping Liam”.

“What?” Did you hear it well?

“Red Bull”, Max explained. “They’re switching Liam and Yuki.”

“You’re joking?”

“Wish I was, honestly. It’s such a shit decision, but I have no say in this.”

You were kind of glad that even Max wasn’t agreeing with the switch, but it still hurt. You were mad. Mad for Liam. Mad at Red Bull.

“Do they not realise they’re the fucking problem?” You couldn’t help the venom in your tone. “Have been for years. But no, it’s always the driver.”

“I know… Trust me, I wish I could have helped tilt the balance on the other side. Turns out my opinion suddenly doesn’t matter.”

“Shocker”, you sarcastically replied. You knew Max had vouched for Liam to stay; but when his team had decided something, even their star driver apparently didn’t have any right to go against it. “Do they wish to destroy another driver’s career?” You thought about Yuki, with whom you’d been friends for years since he had joined Racing Bulls. “At this home grand prix, that’s fucked up.”

“You know everything Red Bull does is fucked up at this point. That’s like your main take everytime they do something.”

“Am I wrong, though?” You raised an eyebrow at your boyfriend.

“Unfortunately, no.” Max sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “I guess I won’t see you in my garage in Japan, then?”

“I’m not that much of a bitch, Max. I’ll show up for Yuki, obviously.”

“Obviously”, Max repeated with a chuckle. “You’ll text me which garage I have to collect you from, yeah?”

“You know me so well.” You smiled at him, before pulling him close for a quick kiss. “When are they announcing it?”

“I think some media are confirming it today, but the teams will only post about it starting tomorrow.”

“Does Liam actually know?” This was the dreaded question. You knew Red Bull was bad enough that they were capable of telling him after the entire world was made aware.

“He does, yeah.” Max thought for a second. “Don’t know for sure if they told him before Yuki, but they were decent enough not to let him find out through the internet.”

“I hope so.” You pulled out your phone, your thumb hovering over the messages application. “Is it too early to text him?” You really wanted to show Liam your support, but you were scared that Red Bull had actually been too cowardly to not notify Liam until the very last minute.

“Might be good to wait a couple days”, Max suggested. “He might be home right now, so he’ll probably have his family and friends with him.”

You nodded at Max’s words, agreeing to wait until the information would be out everywhere. Still, you made a mental note to start thinking of what you could eventually do to lift the Aussie's and Kiwi's spirits.

…..

At the end of the week, the whole world had seen the news. Red Bull Racing had definitely swapped Liam with Yuki, deciding that the younger driver had not shown enough potential after only two races.

Trusting yourself, you did what you thought was right and texted Liam as well as Jack. You sent them your address, and offered to have them for dinner that evening. You knew that even though almost the entire grid lived in Monaco, it was actually quite rare for the drivers to hang out. Max, especially, loved to stay home in order to avoid seeing his work friends. However, he was surprisingly glad to have Jack and Liam. Your boyfriend had even helped to cook tonight’s meal, and you were certain the rookies would particularly enjoy this information.

Monaco was a small town, so it didn’t take long for Jack and Liam to arrive at yours. It was known on the grid where each driver lived in the city, but actually seeing where Max lived with their own eyes felt surreal to the young drivers. When you opened the door to see them both awkwardly standing next to one another, it only took one warm smile from you to help them relax. They cautiously followed you inside; admiring every piece of furniture, every picture, Max’s beloved simulator which looked out of place in the living room you had beautifully decorated.

The most surprising thing for Jack and Liam, though, wasn’t the wall full of helmets and trophies nor the silly cushions you had bought with cats’ faces on them. No, it was the shocking view of four-times world champion Max Verstappen who was wearing an apron and currently setting the table.

When he saw you, the loving smile on his face naturally appeared. He then noticed the two rookies behind you and gave them a nod.

“Hi”, he said to them. “Welcome to our home, I guess.”

“Thanks for having us,” Jack replied. “It’s nice here.”

“Yeah”, Liam agreed. He then raised his right hand that had been holding a bag. “Hmm… I brought dessert?”

“Oh, you shouldn’t have!” You exclaimed. “That’s so sweet of you, Liam.”

You took a large box out of the bag, and barely had time to put it on the table that another box got put down right next to it.

“We had the same idea”, Jack stated. “We didn’t buy the same thing, though. Had time to compare when we were in the lift.”

“You guys are so nice, thank you so much!”

Quickly opening each box, you saw that Liam had brought chocolate muffins while Jack had brought profiteroles. You let yourself out to the kitchen in order to put the boxes in the fridge, which meant that the drivers were now alone in the living room.

Safe to say, the atmosphere was quite awkward. There wasn’t any tension per say, but it wasn’t everyday that Max had people from his workplace at home. Remembering what he was wearing, Max looked down at his outfit and swiftly removed his apron.

“Yeah… hmm, sorry… you guys can sit down if you want. It’s almost ready.”

Jack and Liam thanked him with a nod, before they both pulled out the closest chair to them.

“Dinner is ready indeed, but everyone’s washing their hands before we eat please.” You had just come back to the living room. Your tone wasn’t harsh, but commanding enough that no one would disobey – exactly like a mother.

You made sure that everyone, including your boyfriend, had now washed their hands before leading them back to the table. You asked Max to bring the food there, which he did. Together, you had prepared lasagna as well as some potatoes to go with it.

You served the drivers, who all thanked you with a smile. You and Max were sitting next to each other, with Jack and Liam facing you both. You then all began to eat in a comfortable silence.

“Thanks again for having us,” Liam eventually said. “Food’s really good by the way.”

“It is”, Jack agreed with a nod.

“Max is a good cook, right?” You chuckled before offering them seconds, which they gladly accepted.

“Guess I have a plan b if racing doesn't work out,” Max claimed with a shrug. “Can't say that it's really going well recently.”

“We said no work talk, remember?” You reminded him while serving the rookies. “Tonight is supposed to be about anything but your jobs.”

“It’s fine, honestly.”

“Yeah, Jack’s right. If anything, better to talk about it with y’all than anyone else,” Liam added.

“Sure?” You wondered. They both nodded, which reassured you. “Well, if you don’t mind talking about work then I guess we can do so after dinner while racing.”

“Racing?” Liam and Jack repeated.

“Y’all know how to play F1 24?” You asked them, to which they positively answered. “Then yes, racing.”

Exchanging a glance, the two drivers in front of you were now even happier to be there. A proud smile made its way on your face, glad to have your boys in a good mood.

Dinner finished quickly enough after light-hearted chats. You learnt more about Jack’s and Liam’s childhood, while they asked you questions about your and Max’s relationship. They were really enjoying their time with you – even more than with Max – and loved getting to know you outside the track.

While the drivers were moving from the dining table to the sofas in front of the massive TV that adorned the wall, you went back to the kitchen to retrieve the desserts. When you came back, Max was giving controllers to Liam and Jack before he turned the game on.

Obviously not caring about you being here, Max left the racing mode on ‘expert mode’ which clearly wouldn’t bother the other drivers present. As expected, he chose to play himself. You let Liam select Lewis while Jack selected Oscar, before it was your turn. You picked Charles as you often did, and now it was actually time to race.

As usual when you played with Max, you didn’t do great. After a couple races, Liam and Jack realised that dating a world champion didn’t mean that you had gained his driving skills. So they decided to tone it down, and let you overtake them during the next race. You hadn’t noticed, simply thinking that this track wasn’t their favourite. Max, however, immediately realised what was going on.

“You shouldn’t let her win”, he told them while taking a quick bite from his muffin. “She’s used to losing, don’t worry about her.”

“Fuck you, Max.” You threw a cushion to his face, which didn’t even affect him as he still crossed the finish line in first position.

“You’re like the worst boyfriend ever, mate. I think my girl would kill me if I didn’t let her win from time to time,” Liam explained with a chuckle.

“What?” Max turned to Liam, a serious and intimidating look now on his face.

“I– I mean, not the worst of course!” Liam was scared he had joked about the wrong thing, and tried to take back his words. “You’re the racing driver so… yeah, makes sense you’re better than her.”

“I’m kidding, Liam.” Max simply said. “God, you’re easy to pressure.”

“And you are actually the worst”. Putting down your controller, you took a profiterole and faced the rookies. “Please don’t let him scare you or some shit like that, he’s literally just a silly nerd. If anything, be the ones to intimidate him. I’ll teach you both his weaknesses.”

“I’ll ban you from my garage”, Max retorted.

“Great, I didn’t even wanna be there anyways.”

“I’ll ban you from the paddock”, Max added.

“Then I’ll date another driver who’ll give me access and overrule you”. You innocently smiled at your boyfriend, knowing that he wouldn’t manage to get the upper hand back.

“I’ll run him off track and he won’t be able to race anymore.”

“I’ll join the FIA and give you stop-and-go penalties.”

As they had been sitting between the two of you, Jack and Liam could only watch the exchange between you and Max as if it were a tennis match. They were deeply entertained, and one thought was certainly shared between them: they would definitely side with you against Max, no matter the situation.

Max was their grid mum on track. But you were their grid mum off track, and that was worth so much more to them. If Liam and Jack had been nervous to come spend the evening here, all their worries had now completely disappeared.

If anything, they could even pretend to still be bothered about what was happening to them in the Formula 1 world, just so they could spend more moments like this one. They wouldn’t need to, though. Even without the excuse of wanting to distract them and lift their spirits, you would still invite them to dinner the next day, before offering them a ride on Max’s plane as if it was yours – it kind of was, according to Max who deemed everything he owned as your possession too.

So when the four of you would arrive together in Japan, the other rookies might be jealous. They might ask Liam and Jack about how they pulled it off, and maybe the two would agree in telling a little white lie just so they would gatekeep the family time they spent with you and Max.

And it would eventually become a competition as a joke: who would be able to get the most time with their grid parents?

..........

Hope y'all enjoyed it!! Y'all cannot imagine how mad i was when the devil (rbr) switched liam and yuki - actually you kinda can bc i posted ab it lol

But i fr hate that they only give liam 2 races to prove himself like THAT'S😭NO😭ENOUGH😭 and for jack, well i saw that oliver oakes confirmed they ain't getting rid of him + plan of having him for the whole season but they aren't giving him enough love imo - like why tf y'all have 4 reserve drivers

Anywayyys i acc have no idea whether liam was made aware of the switch before it went public but let's pretend rbr ain't bitches

Don't hesitate to like or reblog if you liked this<3 and don't be shy to leave a comment so i can know your thoughts as well :))

See you soon, take care of yourselves, i love y'all xx

[kdh-tally]

Abby x Reader Headcannons

Prompt : Headcannons of Abby and his Partner

Author's Note : This was requested (i was gonna write it anyways) and the request was so adorable but I unfortunately deleted it cause the first post wasn't loading 😭 But to the anon that asked, please keep your soul!! I'm not like Gwi-ma ;P

For context, you work at a pilates place. It's mixed building so they're both multiple female and male customers (i forgot what u call people who do pilates)

It’s bright and sunny with colours like yellow and pink being in the main design. Opposite of you is this minimalist and dark themed gym.

Both places are more or less enemies in business.

Not necessarily boys versus girls but instead gym junkies and muscle heads vs elegant bodybuilders and core strengtheners. 

It had been a long day and you were not supposed to be working but your co-instructor called in sick, and now you were the only available trainer on site. 

The building would be closing in a few hours and you seriously hoped no one else was coming in. Then the door opened.

In walked a guy who looked like he belonged in a boxing ring. He was crazily muscular, tall, slightly intimidating but 100% cocky.

You knew who this was, kinda.

He recently started going to the gym next door (traitor!!) so it was odd as to why he was here. Other than his pink hair, this definitely wasn’t his scene.

You were also pretty sure he was some new Kpop idol but apparently his group had gone on hiatus or something?

“Hey,” he greeted. “I’m here for the pilates thing?”

You glanced at the schedule. There was no appointment listed under his name. You looked back up at him in confusion, his cocky smirk was starting to piss you off.

He grinned. “It was a last-minute thing. Manager said she’d booked me in for some stretches or something. Said I need to ‘loosen up’.” He even added air quotes.

You tried not to roll your eyes. 

“Right. Lucky you. I’m the only one available.”

“Perfect,” he said without missing a beat before eyeing you up and down. “You look like you know what you're doing.” Cue the smirk, then the flex. 

Even though you swore to be loyal to pilates, you had to admit his muscles were… 😋

Five minutes later, he was on the reformer machine (in a position that should not have been physically possible) and asking if he was supposed to be feeling core activation.

“Is this normal?”

By the end of the session, he was drenched in sweat and fully humbled. You handed him water with a smirk of your own.

“Still think Pilates is just stretching?”

“…No comment.” after a moment of silence “…When’s your next opening?”

He proceeds to walk in every day after his gym sessions.

At first you’re confused cause he never seems tired?

You made him hold a side plank for 20 minutes and watched his soul leave his body.

“I can do squats with 200kg,” he gasped, “why is this band killing me?”

“Because you’re not using your core, muscle-head.”

He swore he wouldn't return again but came back the very next day.

All of a sudden he’s a regular.

Slowly starts coming to Pilate’s instead of the gym.

Many of the members, men and women alike, are super hyped.

It boosts their ego when the muscle-head can’t do half of the things they can.

He meets a decent amount of fans and they (very respectfully) ask why he’s taking Pilates classes all of a sudden.

He tells everyone he’s training to be more flexible for the dances Jinu makes them do, but honestly, he just wants to see you.

Brags that you’re his private instructor to literally everyone, even though you told him to stop doing that.

Whenever you correct his form, he smirks and says, “You just wanted an excuse to touch me, huh?”

You threaten to make him hold a wall sit for 10 minutes.

Will flirt with you. ALL THE TIME.

“You know, your hands are really strong. Its kinda hot.”

“Are you checking me out?”

“Breathe through the stretch, Abby.” you’d tell him

“It’s hard to breathe when you’re looking at me like that, cutie.”

You’ve smacked him with a foam roller at least three times. 

He soon convinces you to hang out outside of Pilates classes. 

Fortunately for you both there's a smoothie and snack bar next door.

After every session, he insists on walking you there.

You always order something healthy but he orders the fruitiest, sugariest thing and insists you try it.

You say no. He forces the straw in your mouth anyway.

When he confesses to you, he doesn’t make it big and dramatic.

I lied. It's kinda dramatic.

It was supposed to be a normal session.

You had no idea what was coming.

Abby had stayed behind again, lounging shirtless on a mat like he owned the studio, which he absolutely did not.

He’d more or less stop going to the gym at this point.

He’d just finished a perfect cobra stretch, smirking the whole time, and now he was watching you clean, spinning a towel around his hands like a bored pet.

“You always stare at me when I stretch,” he said suddenly. You didn’t look up, already used to the teasing remark. “I stare at all my clients. I’m making sure your spine isn’t breaking.”

“That’s cute. You care about my spine.”

You did look up that time, only to see him already walking over to the front desk where you stood.

“Abby,” you warned, “if you break another foam roller—”

“I’m not going to break anything today,” he cut in, laughing as you rolled your eyes. “I’m here to ask you out.”

You froze. “…What?”

“You heard me, cutie.” He leaned on the desk. “You’ve been driving me insane since day one. Yelling at me, correcting my form, making me sore for days.”

“That’s literally my job.”

“And you’re really good at it.” He leaned in, voice dropping just a little. “But I want more than our little pilates dates. Let me take you out.”

You blinked. “You’re joking.”

He tilted his head. “Do I look like I’m joking?”

You wanted to say yes. But his eyes weren’t playing around. Not this time.

“You really want to date your pilates instructor?”

“Hell yeah. You’re hot, you’re scary, and you’ve forced me into a split. I trust you with my life.” A beat. “Also,” he added, smug as ever, "I know you’ve been checking me out since the first class.”

You opened your mouth and closed it. “…Shut up.”

“Is that a yes?”

“…Maybe.”

“I’ll take it,” he said, reaching over the counter and stealing one of the protein bars you were fiddling with. “First date’s on me. Dress comfy.”

He left with a wink and a flex, the bell above the door jingling musically.

Now that he has boyfriend privileges, he’s constantly barging into your sessions to “check if your clients are better looking than him.”

They’re not. He makes sure of it.

You keep telling him it would be physically impossible for you to find someone more attractive than him anyways.

He does not like when other guys flirt with you.

He’ll sit on a mat, arms crossed, glaring while you lead a class. He’d be closer to the front of the class, which is odd cause he normally remains near the center to show off.

“I'm just observing.” he’d excuse, but you know he’s truly just trying to block any other on-lookers from seeing you.

He’s secretly very soft, though. 

Brings you water. 

Wraps his jacket around you if it’s cold.

Packs your bag the morning before classes (yes he stays over)

He pretends not to care, but sulks if you forget to text him after a long day.

The boys would be shocked that he managed to find someone willing to date him.

They only thought he had love for his muscles

“You’re dating a human pilates instructor?? Since when did you do pilates?” Baby would glare at him curiously.

Romance tries not to die laughing. “Wait, so she told you what to do and you liked it? Bro…”

Jinu was just happy he didn’t have to be forced to go to the gym with him anymore.

Abby would just take you instead.

Mystery was quite impressed. He didn’t care so much about Abby dating but was really interested in the mixed pilates center.

Would probably book a session to see what the hype’s about.

He would call you things like:

Ma’am - Whenever you boss him around.

Star-fish - Your super duper flexible the way a starfish is.

Brat - The name he uses to “bully” you

Y/N - Drags it out whenever he wants something from you.

Cutie - What he calls you most of the time.

You would call him things like:

Muscle Head : Cause he’s all muscle no brain

Baby : Cause it’s Abby spelt differently. (It kinda threw him off at first cause yk his band mate is also named Baby)

Loser : Banter is a very prominent thing in your relationship.

Himbo : He’s really pretty, you’ll be the first to admit it, he just isn’t the smartest sometimes….

Sweetie : Cause he can be such a sweet guy sometimes.

[emeraldserenade]

omg can u please do a fic where reader gets hurt and joaquin is freaking out, and after that every time she tries to do something kinda dangerous (like picking up heavy stuff or climbing up high to get something) he becomes very protective and is like “let me do that fo you” 😭😭

Let Me Help ~ Joaquín Torres

synopsis: you just wanted to swap out the blankets

tw: fem!reader, fiancée!reader, car accident, injuries from car accident, barely edited

fic, ficlet, drabble, request

I hope you love this, I loved writing it.

➽──────────────❥

Joaquín got the call that you were in the hospital in the middle of the night, you were out to pick up your friend when a drunk guy ran a red light and t-boned you. Time seemed to stop as he moved to get dressed, his phone wedged between his ear and shoulder. Joaquín pushed the speed limit, praying that you were ok. He was barely told anything except that there was an accident and you were in the hospital.

"I'm here to see y/n," Joaquín rushed out, his voice and movements frantic.

"Are you family?" The older lady behind the desk asked.

"I'm her fiancé," Joaquín told her and she nodded, standing and gesturing him to follow. She took him down a few halls and into a room where you were asleep on a bed.

"The doctor will be in shortly," she informed Joaquín, he just nodded as he took the seat to your left. It broke his heart to see you like that, with tubes and wires. There were too many bandages for his liking and he could only see what wasn't covered.

"You must be miss l/n's fiancé, I'm Doctor Rugen," the doctor walked in, she had a kind smile as she greeted Joaquín.

"What happened? Is she ok?" Joaquín questioned.

"She got into a car accident, someone ran the red light and t-boned her. She suffered some minor injuries as well as some internal bleeding, we managed to get it under control in the OR. We gave her some medicine for the pain; however, it does make her drowsy so she will probably be out for a little while longer," doctor Rugen explained before bidding farewell and leaving.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

It was an hour later when you woke, you remembered the last time you woke up Joaquín wasn't there yet but they told you everything. You looked to your left and saw Joaquín sitting there with his head down and holding your hand with both of his.

"Joaquín?" You mumbled, even without a head injury, your head hurt. You watched as his head shot up to look at you.

"You're awake, thank god," he jumped up from his chair kissed your forehead.

"I am," you let him have a moment to relax before asking your question. "Could you dim the lights?" You sheepishly looked at him and he nodded.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

You had spent just over a moth and a half in the hospital, you're internal bleeding was more severe than they thought and you had to go back into surgery. You were home though, and Joaquín had taken to taking care of you very seriously.

"Angel, do you need anything?" Joaquín walked back into the living room after his shower.

"No, I'm ok," you told him, you were capable of doing things on your own but it was nice knowing he wanted to help.

"Hm, if you're sure," he plopped down on the couch next to you and you immediately curled into him.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

Joaquín was't home when you decided to grab the box of extra blankets from the closet. You wished he was because it hurt to have to reach up that high, you went to grab the ladder.

The scene Joaquín walked into gripped his heart in fear. You were standing on the ladder while reaching for something.

"Wait, baby, let me grab that for you," Joaquín rushed to you, placing his gym bag on the floor by the front door. He helped you down before moving the ladder and grabbing the blankets for you.

"Thank you," you pressed a kiss to his cheek before going to your living room to swap blankets for fresh ones.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

You noticed it late, the way Joaquín was always watching and offering to help. You wanted to be annoyed, you were a grown adult that can do anything she wants, but there was something about him helping you that you loved. Maybe it was the freeing feeling from not having to tedious tasks or maybe you just really loved the princess treatment. You started to abuse it a little, nothing major just getting him to hand you things just out of your reach instead of getting up to grab them. Joaquín noticed, he didn't care, but he noticed. He loved helping you and if this made sure you weren't over exerting yourself, he was more than happy to help.

➽──────────────❥

Masterlist | Requests

[lovemepartly]

lilac sky ✩ thanos

warnings: drug usage (hard drugs but not specified what kind)

a/n: based on this request! title is inspired by colors by halsey bc every single time i think of thanos i think of this song 😁 anyways this was super fun to write lmk if u guys want a pt 2!

i am not endorsing drugs! this is just a fanfic and i am not responsible for your actions.

 ˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ 

the party was too loud, too hot, too stuffy.

you pushed through the pulse of bodies dancing in the living room, trying to find stillness somewhere. every bathroom or bedroom had either a couple making out or people doing drugs. you made your way up the stairs, half-empty drink in hand, pushing open the rooftop door.

quiet.

you made your way to the edge, taking a seat on the ledge. you were only a few stories up, but the ground below you seemed to stretch infinitely— or maybe it was just the effects of all the drinks you'd had.

you took another sip of your drink, which was now way too watered down from the ice to actually taste good, before setting it down on the ledge next to you with a clink.

the city stretched out in front of you for miles. the sun was setting, filling the sky with purple hues and clouds that looked like brushstrokes from a renaissance painting. most of the commercial buildings were still filled with people working, the lights flickering in every room like glitter.

your thoughts were disrupted by the sound of a door closing behind you, and you turned to look as a man with purple hair made his way through the rooftop, coming to take a seat next to you on the ledge. you glanced at him once before returning your attention back to the city.

the man was quiet for a moment, legs swinging over the ledge with you. his purple hair somewhat matched the sunset in front of you, a thought that made you bite back a smile. he was wearing baggy clothing with a cross necklace settled on his neck.

"what are you drinking?" he asked, finally speaking up, his voice low and soft.

"vodka cran." you replied, looking down at the blindingly bright red drink still set on the ledge next to you. "want some?"

the man shook his head. "i'm good."

you nodded, eyes flickering over his features for just a second longer before looking back out to the city.

after a moment of silence the man spoke up again: "want some?"

you turned to look at him. his cross necklace was open, some tiny, colorful, circular pills arranged neatly inside. almost too neatly, considering his aesthetic. his hands shook slightly as he held the small case out to you. his fingers were each painted a different color, somewhat matching the pills, and black lines of ink trailed down some of his fingers— also too neatly tattooed to match his aesthetic.

the offer was tempting, anything to escape from the party. but you shook your head. "i don't take drugs from strangers."

he laughed, not taking any pills for himself as he closed the case and let the cross swing on his neck again. "fair enough." after a small pause he added, "am i a stranger?"

you turned to look at him, a small smile on your face as you noticed his smirk, but you nodded. "do i know you from somewhere?"

he shrugged, his gaze flicking over your figure before back out to the city scene in front of the two of you. "i'm a famous rapper."

you hummed, turning to look at him. he certainly dressed the part, but you couldn't help but tease with a small smile, "famous enough to be at a party like this?"

he laughed at that, a sound that made your stomach turn in a dangerous way. "seriously, though," he added, "i wouldn't offer you some weird shit."

"what is it?" you asked, head cocking in curiosity.

"like ecstasy, but better. it’s a new kind."

now it was your turn to laugh. "better than ecstasy?"

he nodded, fingers fidgeting with the chain of the necklace.

your gaze flickered out to the city, chewing on the inside of your lip as you thought. something about him, or maybe just the fact that you'd already downed your drink in the short conversation, made you trust him. "okay."

he smiled at that, opening the necklace again. he held it out to you, and you picked up a small pink pill. you watched as he reached for a blue one.

"cheers." he murmured with a small smirk before popping the pill in his mouth. you smiled, doing the same. you swallowed the pill dry, suddenly regretting having finished your vodka. even by swallowing it, it left a bitter, metallic aftertaste in your mouth that made your face crumple.

"how long until it hits?" you asked, trying to collect saliva in your mouth to cancel out the aftertaste.

he shrugged. "half an hour. depends on your previous experiences."

you nodded. "makes sense."

the silence seemed to stretch for a while, or maybe time was just warping from the drugs already.

"so what are you doing at this party?" he asked, breaking the silence suddenly as he turned to look at you.

you met his gaze, "a friend of a friend invited me. turns out i don't have a better way to spend my friday night."

he smiled, letting out a low chuckle as he murmued, "classy."

you were starting to feel a little warm, even with the cool night breeze hitting you. and when his knee accidentally brushed against yours, it felt like a jolt of electricity.

"what's your name?" he asked, his voice cutting through the silence like a knife.

you told him and he repeated it, testing it on his tongue. you liked the way he said your name, his annunciation strong and sharp. "yours?" you asked.

"thanos." he replied without missing a beat.

your brows furrowed, a small smile on your face. "no it's not. really?"

he laughed, legs swinging. "that's what i go by. my stage name."

you nodded, smiling at his laugh. you swung your legs in rhythm with his, your body feeling lighter, like you could push off the ledge and soar through the city like some lame superhero.

"you feel it yet?" thanos asked, running a hand through his hair.

you shrugged. your body felt hot and light, but it wasn't anything dramatic. "kind of."

he nodded. "give it some more time. i promise it's worth it."

and sure enough, within ten more minutes, it hit. the pills hit harder than expected. then again, so did he. it wasn't sudden, not like a shock. the sensation just rolled over you— warm and euphoric. it felt like something in the air shifted. warm and soft, but also loud and sharp. the city lights glittered in front of you more than they had before, the hum under your bones making your skin tingly. you're not sure when thanos moved closer to you, but his fingers barely brushed yours, and suddenly it was the only thing you could focus on.

this wasn't thanos' first time taking those pills. there was a reason why they were always slung around his neck, for easy access. he liked having them in a cross-shaped necklace, the paradox of the tiny pills in the shape always bringing a smile to his face. or maybe it's just because he felt like he was in heaven whenever he took them. it was an addicting feeling— he felt like god. or maybe like he could punch god in the face and win.

thanos seemed to notice the shift in you, and he smiled softly, turning to meet your gaze with glossy eyes. "you feel it now?"

you nodded, a small laugh slipping from your lips. "defintely."

"better than ecstasy?"

"better than ecstasy."

thanos smiled at your response, his arm moving to sling around your shoulders. you didn't move away, relishing in how his touch made you feel light and airy, like a schoolgirl with a crush on the popular boy.

the music was muted outside, barely audible from the door of the rooftop. like you and thanos were in your own little world, disconnected from the chaos of reality.

"i don't usually share these," he murmured, "but you looked like someone who needed it."

you laughed, a small smile appearing on your lips as you looked at him. you didn't miss the way his eyes flickered down to them for just a moment. "you take them often?"

he shrugged, his eyes still glossy from the effects. "kind of. i like the way it makes me feel."

you nodded. "makes sense."

thanos' gaze shifted into something softer, something deeper. like he wanted to say something more, to be vulnerable with you, but there was something holding him back. he sighed softly, letting the cool air cut through his skin like a wake-up call.

"want me to walk you home?" he finally asked.

you nodded with a small smile. "yeah."

he stood from the ledge, interlacing his fingers with yours as he helped you up. the drugs made every step feel airy, like every bone in your body was quivering, the city lights glimmering with uncertainty. but his hand in yours felt like a steady anchor, grounding you to the version of reality only you two shared.

[midzandrist]

melodies of the heart ─── huh yunjin.

synopsis: as the weight of the world fades away with each step toward home, you find solace in the warm glow of familiar comforts—and in the loving arms of your girlfriend, whose mere presence transforms the mundane into a magical sanctuary of happiness

warning: none

word count: 2.0k

the day had been intricately woven with moments of calm, each thread more surprising than the last. you found solace in the rhythm of mundane tasks—sorting reports, reading emails, occasionally exchanging pleasantries with colleagues. today, fortunately, had been a fairly quiet day. as you made your way home, you felt an unexpected lightness in your chest, a gentle promise of the evening that lay ahead.

you parked your car, stepping out into the cool air, and fished through your pockets for your apartment keys—ensuring you didn’t lock yourself out again. walking to the door, you felt the familiar weight of your coat, the comforting softness of its fabric against your arms, a shield against the outside world.

once inside, warmth enveloped you like a beloved blanket. you hang your coat on the rack by the door, kicking off your shoes and allowing your bare feet to feel the coolness of the hardwood floor. this was your sanctuary, a place where everything felt right.

making your way to your room, you noticed a sense of excitement bubbling within you; something about returning to her presence always ignited that spark. as you pushed open the door, the scene before you made your breath hitch just slightly.

there she was—yunjin.

sitting on your bed with her legs crossed, she cradled her guitar. the soft melodies wafted through the air, a tapestry of sound threading through the peacefulness of the evening. you chuckle, unable to help it. she looked absolutely gorgeous, with those round glasses perched slightly askew on her nose, as she lost herself in the notes and chords. her focus was fierce, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, but the moment you stepped in, you saw a flicker—something bright, something warm.

“hey! you're home!” she exclaimed, her eyes lighting up as they met yours. the smile that blossomed across her face could light up the dimmest room. it was the kind of greeting that wrapped around you, making you feel cherished and grounded all at once.

“hey! i’m home!” you replied, unable to suppress a smile as you stepped closer to her. you leaned against the doorframe, watching as she strummed a few more chords, giving each note its due attention, as if they were precious secrets begging to be revealed.

you sit on the other end of the bed, catching the lingering aroma of her favorite jasmine-scented candle in the air, both soothing and invigorating. like sharing snippets of your day—how the sun set brilliantly through the office windows, how the coffee was stronger than usual, how you’d managed to avoid any office drama—and she listens intently, strumming her guitar absentmindedly.

as you talk, every now and then, she throws in a discordant note, teasing you about your workday’s monotony. “you should have gotten adventurous, maybe staged an office heist!” she laughs, her laughter echoing in your chest like a soft drumbeat. you can't help but chuckle at the idea, shaking your head at the absurdity of it.

“why are you working on your guitar, though?” you finally asked, curiosity bubbling within you. “i thought mondays were for practicing your songs with the group?”

“the ceo decided to give us the day off.” with her fingers still brushing the strings gently, she looks thoughtful. “and i'm working on something for my next comeback. i thought i’d try my hand at writing something fresh for le sserafim.”

a glimmer of admiration surges through you. "is that why you're in deep contemplation? i thought perhaps you were lost in thought over which snack to eat!” you feign seriousness while you give her a grin.

she rolls her eyes dramatically, laughing softly. “oh, stop it!” her laughter only fuels your teasing. “it’s actually quite serious. i want it to be heartfelt, and you know i have to put my soul into my music.”

“you always do,” you say, feeling a swell of pride as you watch her. “anyway, what are you working on?”

yunjin grinned, putting down her guitar for just a moment. “right now, i’m trying to write a new song.” her eyes danced with excitement, her energy infectious. “i want to capture something special. it’s a feeling, you know? i’ve been recording ideas here and there.”

you leaned in closer, intrigued by her passion. yunjin had always had a knack for artistry, creating songs that reflected her heart, songs that thrummed with life and honesty. the way she poured herself into her music was mesmerizing. it made you feel connected to her in ways you never thought possible.

“tell me more," you encouraged, your voice soft, almost conspiratorial. "what ideas do you have?”

yunjin gazes up at the ceiling as if the perfect lyrics are scrawled there. “i have a few ideas, but i’m not sure how they fit yet. longing, love, melancholia… all those clichés people write about.”

“you can’t deny, the best songs are rooted in cliché feelings. if you make it personal, it’ll resonate,” you encourage her, sensing her struggle even if she doesn’t quite realize it.

"and i was thinking," she continued, her voice teasingly playful, “what do you think about an acoustic version of one of le sserafim’s album tracks? wouldn’t that be cool?”

you couldn’t help but laugh. “are you serious? an acoustic version of your group’s songs? just imagine! it would be like trying to recreate the mona lisa with crayons.”

"babe, you've been more cheesy and romantic than usual since i gave you that guitar for our anniversary," your laughter bubbled up, unexpectedly loud, and even yunjin paused to give you a sideways grin, atypical of her usual playful self.

yunjin tilted her head slightly, the way she always did when she was curious or playful. “what? you don’t think it would be good?” she asked, strumming a soft melody over the chords. the sound danced through the air, playful yet reminiscent, as the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting a warm golden glow in the room.

“don’t get me wrong, i think an acoustic version of your group’s songs would sound amazing,” you replied, trying to stifle another laugh. “it’s just… i can’t imagine the crowd at a le sserafim concert suddenly breaking into a campfire sing-along.”

yunjin giggled, a sweet sound that melted through the air like honey. “well, maybe we can start a new trend. what do you think? everyone in the pit with their little guitars, singing along with me? come on, you know that would be so cute!" she insists, shaking her head playfully. "and imagine it—just me and my guitar, stripped down to the soul of the song. it could be magical!"

you shook your head, the image making you laugh harder. “oh, i can picture it. that sounds charming, but i think the fans would be a little confused.”

she rested her guitar against the bed and leaned back, her hair spilling around her like a soft halo, and pouted playfully. “you have no faith in me,” she teased, though you could see the warmth in her eyes.

“but wouldn’t the other members of your group have something to say about it? i mean, you guys are known for your stunning harmonies and choreography. an acoustic version? it feels like removing the icing from a cake."

yunjin sits up a bit straighter, that spark of inspiration in her eyes. "but sometimes, we need to be reminded of the rawness in our art. music is more than just the performance, you know? it’s about emotion, connection… maybe it needs a little vulnerability."

you love that about her—her depth, her understanding of art. it’s one of the many reasons you fell for her in the first place. "i’d love to hear your interpretation—just you and the guitar," you say, genuinely intrigued.

you settled onto the edge of the bed, watching her agile fingers dance on the fretboard as she attempted to weave together something more profound from the fragments in her head. “so, what’s your song about?” you inquired.

yunjin paused, a thoughtful expression taking over her face. “well… i’m still working on the lyrics. i’m trying to capture a feeling—a moment, you know? something about being lost but finding warmth in another person,” she said, her voice suddenly earnest. the words hung in the air like a sweet promise, and you found the atmosphere in the room shifting.

“lost but found… that sounds beautiful,” you responded softly, feeling the significance of her words. “does it have a special inspiration?”

“maybe,” she replied, her gaze meeting yours with a playful sparkle. “but i think it might be a mix of all the people i love, and, of course, the moments we’ve shared. the warmth of home…” she patted beside her, inviting you to sit more closer.

you obliged, shifting to sit cross-legged beside her. “well, as long as i’m in there somewhere,” you teased again, nudging her shoulder playfully. “i wouldn’t want to be the reason you’re expressing something sad!”

she turned her head toward you then, her expression softening. “you’re definitely in there. you’re my ‘warmth in the cold.’”

your heart fluttered at her words as you both shared a moment of comfortable silence, each lost in thought. then, yunjin took a deep breath, her fingers hovering above the strings.

she grins, flipping her hair back over her shoulder dramatically. "okay, then! i’ll give you a sneak peek. but you have to promise not to laugh!"

you place a hand over your heart in mock offense. "how could i laugh at my beloved artist? i’m your number one fan!"

yunjin chuckles, adjusting her glasses before strumming a few chords and letting them fill the room. she closes her eyes as if drawing the moment closer into herself. after a few moments of experimentation, she begins to sing softly, the lyrics flowing effortlessly from her lips. her voice wavers between sweet and melancholic, capturing something deep and haunting.

you watch, entranced, as she pours her heart into those notes, using music to express what words alone cannot. with every strum, the world outside ceases to exist; it’s just her and the song—her sanctuary. you can see her working through an emotion, a thought, finding deeper meaning as she sings.

as the last chord fades, she opens her eyes to find you staring at her, amazed. "what do you think?" she asks, cheeks slightly flushed from the vulnerability of performing for you.

"it was beautiful," you say genuinely, stepping closer to her as you sit on the edge of the bed. "you really captured something there. the lyrics… it felt personal and raw. it’s like you took us on a little journey."

her eyes twinkle, and her lips curl into a smile. "you're the best, you know that? i want to write music that speaks to people, that makes them feel something—and if i can make you feel it, then i’m on the right track."

you grin back, searching for the right words. "you’ve definitely got it. just… remember to take breaks. you’ll burn out if you keep pushing yourself too hard."

yunjin nods, understanding. "i will, i promise. but it’s hard when inspiration hits. sometimes i feel like i need to capture it before it slips away.”

“by the way, you should have a concert with that song when it’s ready. i want the world to hear it.”

“you really think so?” she looks back at you, surprise lighting up her face.

“i know so. you have this incredible way of making feelings come alive with your music,” you gush. “these moments, like this one right now? they deserve to be immortalized in song.”

yunjin’s cheeks flush a tint of pink, and she bites her lower lip, clearly flattered yet humble. “you always know how to make me feel special.”

you step forward, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. “that’s because you are special, yunjin. you’re an amazing artist and an even more amazing person.”

her face breaks into a genuine smile, and she wraps her arms around your waist, pulling you down beside her on the bed. “okay, so maybe i’ll write a song about you after all,” she says, cheekily.

“good! because it would definitely be a chart-topper,” you declare, teasingly nudging her.

together, you joke and share stories as the last rays of sunlight fade from the sky, replaced by the soft glow of the lamp. you find comfort in each other’s presence, and for the first time in a while, the world outside fades away. in this little cocoon of warmth, laughter, and music, you feel truly at home.

“… although an acoustic version of sour grapes would be great, wouldn't it?”

“it would be, yunjin.”

[lostinlovingrevery]

a friend and i have been going FERAL over cowboy!logan lately… literally every version of him has me losing my goddamn mind

The WAY i have a cowboy logan series buried in my wip rn. 😫😫😫

honestly youre so real for it. Cowboy Logan, Pirate Logan (aka Mares and Mirandas series!), Patch, Apocalypse Logan, Weapon X, 97', ANY LOGAN. ANY UNIVERSE.

IM. ON. MY. KNEES.

I LOVE cowboy Logan deadass. I have trouble deciding the kind of cowboy hed be but honestly i think he could be a very arthur morgan-ish cowboy (red dead. No i havent played it lol 😅) He causes trouble, gets into trouble, but really does have a good heart. Hes just a cowboy.

Heres a few general ideas I thought of cowboy logan:

rough and gruff hardcore yet quiet. Don't fuck with him, he wont fuck with you

likes his whiskey. A lot.

a big ole loner. Maybe in his younger years had friends. Now though he travels alone.

Very intimidating. Very handsome.

He actually can be a huge gentleman but hes known through towns as being a troublemaker and DANGEROUS. So people avoid him for the most part. He prefers it that way

younger him likes the trouble. Older him just wants to relax

his horse is named Cinnamon, but only uses it in private. Calls her Heifer around others. (Hes Americas most dangerous outlaw he cant have people knowing he calls his horse cinnamon)

He knows he's intimidating and will take advantage of it

low patience

probably got some depression kicking around in there. my baby

As for some smut stuff???

The other day i had this image of him lassoing me while i run away and pulling me back to him. Take a wild guess my friend at what happens next 😘

the bathtub scene with Clint Eastwood and Sister Sarahs mules (i don't actually remember the movie name lol).

undoing his holsters and belts while he sits there drinking his whiskey and watches you over the glass

seriously obsessed with getting lassoed by him. Might write about it

this isn't smutty actually but the idea of him pulling me up onto his horse/lap with ease is soooooo...oof

I really want him to just bend me over and hike up my dress and take me right there

OUTDOOR SEX

Remember the intimidating thing? he'll def take advantage of that and be a TOTAL DOM

The cowboy thing where he puts his hat on you. You have no idea what it means. (he wants to fuck you!! yay! yippee!!)

The series i had was him being kind a hired merc and bounty hunter type of cowboy. He goes to claim a bounty on reader. Early 1900s type era (think red dead once again lol), and reader is female and a doctor! I like to think of it a lil romcom ish where reader is an absolute piss-ant with him (he kidnapped her so yknow) and he's the tired bounty hunter who literally just wants to get the job done....

I have these wips i wrote out about Cowboy Logan from the series!!

And this was a scene I typed out when I first thought of the series!

Huge difference in the mood in these scenes lmao

And yknow you got Drover from Australia (I still haven't watched it) so there's some serious cowboy Logan there... God.

I'M STILL SO THIRSTY FOR THIS GIF LIKE YALL DON'T KNOW

The lil shrug and wiggles. Oh god

[anoant-haikyuu-dump]

The hyperfixation demons are screeching at me to write a comprehensive list of all the reasons I like Fukutora, so today I present to you "Ant ignores their responsibilites and spends several paragraphs explaining why Fukutora is peak despite them having roughly 10 seconds of shared screen time"

1. Contrasting Personalities In general their personalities fit together really well— Fukunaga barely speaks while Tora exclusively shouts at max volume and can't stfu to save his life, Tora's overly-intense and takes everything way too seriously while Fukunaga's cracking jokes in the middle of important games, they're even literal opposites on the court as the two wing spikers. Their differences compliment each other perfectly and because of that I think they'd grow a lot being together, Fukunaga would learn to open up and Tora would mellow out. Another good contrast is how Tora's all about looking cool and standing out while Fukunaga tends to blend into the background, which leads into my next point...

2. MY ROMAN EMPIRE (aka chapter 309) I know it's only two pages out of a 33 chapter match but i dont care, this scene makes me feral. I read the manga after watching Dumpster Battle, so imagine my suprise when my two favorite losers had a moment THAT GOT CUT FROM THE FUCJIGN MOVIE (I'm still salty, it should've been a full season).

Anyways these pages rooted their way into my brain because they show that even though Fukunaga goes unnoticed by most people (both in-universe and by readers) Tora realizes how great he is, and not only respects his play style but views him as a rival on the same level as himself. One thing I appreciate about Tora is that despite him being the stereotypical "strong manly athlete" type he doesn't think his methods are the best or only way of doing things; Fukunaga scoring points without "big fanfare" is just as cool as the shit he and Tanaka pull off. The phrasing "that I hafta surpass" could even imply that Tora sees Fukunaga as more than an equal, as someone who's ahead of him since he doesn't need to be flashy or loud to do amazing stuff.

Look at his smile on page two, bro's just excited to have someone who motivates him to keep pushing himself. And as we've learned from Kagehina: what's gayer than a rivalry?? All in all I think it's sweet that Tora notcies his efforts and admires him when few others do. Side Note, I've seen a translation of these that call them "Nekoma's Wings" and I think that's a sick nickname.

3. Bi Tora and Internalized Homophobia I love a good internalized homophobia arc, and characters like Tora that center so much around girls and manliness are some of the most fun to explore them with imo. You could say he's one of the least likely characters in hq to be queer since he's THE woman-lover next to Tanaka and Noya (and Yachi) but that's what makes it interesting—his gay awakening would hit like a tsunami and send him into life-ruining bi panic for months, especially since he's already such a mess when it comes to romance. He gives me the vibes of someone who has no problem with other people being gay but struggles when it comes to himself since it clashes with his conception of what it means to "be a man" or whatever. My point is he'd have the most intense no homo phase to grace this earth and I think that's both super funny and compelling for his character.

Also as a bi person myself it's kind of frustrating how bisexuality is treated online sometimes. It's annoying when a person's queerness is negated the moment they show attraction for the opposite gender, so headcanoning a character like Tora as a bi while still being openly into women makes me happy.

4. The Stage Play They're so silly in the stageplay. Why is he dragging him around by the feet? Why are they screaming at Kenma? Why is he constantly bopping him on the head in the background? WHY IS HE SERVING FACE IN THE PROMO PICTURES? So silly.

(Ignore how blurry these are lol) 5. Ant's Little Sister Bias This is a me thing, I like ships where one party has an annoying little sister who bothers them, sue me. Its cute. Akane and Fukunaga could have the most adorable friendship if you believe.

6. They Match Each Others Energy My first post about them was me rambling about this so just read that, TDLR they're both energetic menaces who match each other's freak.

7. Kenma's Forced Third-Wheel Purgatory Putting Kenma in a situation where Kuroo's graduated and his closest remaining friends are dating and constantly forcing him to third-wheel is just about the evilest thing you could do to the guy. He may be one of my favorites but this is well-deserved punishment for his crimes.

8. Baffled x Baffling Another ship dynamic I like a lot is when one person is unabashedly weird and the other thinks they're a total freak... but likes them anyways. They don't know why they like them. They can't explain it to anyone. Whenever the person does more weird shit they're like "why tf do I like you." But even so they're whipped as hell. Anyways Tora barely understands a single thing Fukunaga does and I think that makes for a funny crush to have.

9. Fukunaga's "Current Concern" Don't have much to add here, it's just proof to me that they hang out idc. Like why are you concerned about what he wants?? Kinda gay dude. Big fan of Fukunaga whispering to him and Tora answering at full volume so other people hear a one-sided conversation.

10. These Fics Before I knew this ship was even a thing I stumbled on these fics while browsing the Fukunaga tag, that's what got the gears turning:

• My favorite one, third-year shenanigans • Peak, need to be signed in tho • College AU • This one is mostly gen Fukunaga but the few moments they have are perfect (also really fun Nekoma interactions overall)

11. Other Miscellaneous Thoughts • Both of them being public figures/lowkey famous in timeskip is cute, like imagine them being each others' biggest fan before they make it big.

• Chef x guy who eats a lot is peak fiction. In this case they both eat a lot. Their grocery bill is a horror story.

• I know it's because characters are usually grouped by year and Kenma ditches them to sit with Kuroo but they're always together in the stands, pretty gay if you ask me

• I hc Fukunaga as genderfluid so Tora still gets his chance to be a wife guy. Him and Tanaka ranting to each other while Kiyoko and Fukunaga drink tea in peaceful silence.

• I think Fukunaga's the type to enjoy people watching and Tora's always doing something dumb. Observing him like a little bug under a microscope

• They're both so silly looking, cartoony ahh designs. I just think they'd make a funny couple visually, they're so square and stick to me if that makes any sense lmaoo

If you got through this whole post you're a real one, thanks for reading to my brain dump. I think about them every day and need more people to understand the vision

[jerseyshoresy]

Closing In On Summer Love

Fluff

Shoresy x gn!reader

Warnings: cussing, some suggestive dialogue

A/N: just watched the newest season of Shoresy (which inspired this fic... I'm jealous of Laura Mohr lol) and it was too good!!😁 I hope you guys enjoy and I'll be working on the asks in my inbox here soon!!

Shoresy would've never expected his crush on you, a longtime friend, would rear its head as quickly as it did; he had fallen for you as fast as that Sudbury summer day was hot, and considering you two were beating the heat with a long day of tubing, that was pretty damn fast.

As the sun went down and you walked home, Shoresy followed as always, making sure you got to your destination safely. This time, though, the air between you felt charged with emotion as the hockey player confessed his feelings.

"Are you seriously telling me that you're sweet on me, Shoresy?" you asked when he was finished speaking, a playful lilt to your voice.

His smile shone brighter than the moon hanging high in the sky. "Oh, I'm so fuckin' sweet on ya I could open a candy shop right here. I could make Mackintosh Toffee go out of business, I'm so sweet on ya. Hershey's is quaking in their boots right about now."

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head slightly. "I'm inclined to believe you, but I've also known you for long enough to know that you blow through partners like people drive through yellow stop lights."

Shoresy tried to defend himself but you cut him off. "However... if you're able to prove to me that you're serious about this, I'll consider dating you."

"Woo!" he yelled out, raising his fist in triumph. "Just you wait and see! You'll be so impressed by me I'll be begging you to keep your clothes on until we reach the bedroom."

"Yeah?" you asked with a chuckle, watching him from your doorstep.

"Yeah," he replied, stepping back with a confident swagger.

You knew now to never doubt Shore's commitment to anything.

Over the next week, you were treated to 5 star service from the man set on winning your heart. One day you had come home to your yard being completely cleaned out--mowed, trimmed, swept. You would've been utterly confused if you hadn't spied the smallest glimpse of Shoresy turning the corner on his bike, racing to escape the scene. Another time, while you were out grocery shopping, you arrived back home to find your broken pantry shelves fixed.

"Do you always break and enter into your crush's home?" you questioned when Shoresy knocked on your door that night to speak with you.

"It's not my fault your spare key's been in the same place all these years," he retorted with a smirk. "Besides, you needed those shelves to be replaced and who better to do it than your favorite handy man?"

"Who said you're my favorite?"

That made Shoresy chuckle. "I will be. Soon enough you'll be treating your house like a fuckin' rage room for the chance to see me in a short sleeve, holding a screwdriver."

"Oh really?" you grinned.

"Really," he replied, folding his arms in a way that highlighted his muscles, leading you to ruminate on the fact that watching him fix things around the house in a short sleeve shirt sounds like a lovely way to spend your time.

The next day had brought you your favorite panini and dessert waiting for you at your work desk, courtesy of a special someone who your coworker deemed "loud but hot." As you unwrapped the sandwich, a note fluttered out onto your desk.

I would clean your toilet with my toothbrush just to bring you lunch like this every day. Y/n, I like you so much that you have me writing love notes like a teenage girl.

Though you didn't find that imagery to be particularly appetizing, you still appreciated the sentiment. Eating your food, you recalled everything Shoresy had done for you in the past few days. It seemed like he was being genuine in his efforts to win you over, leading you to make up your mind on the relationship you wanted to have with him.

That evening, you were delighted to hear the expected knock at your door. Opening it up, you were greeted to the sight you were always looking forward to. There he stood, hands in his pockets and grin never wavering.

"The lunch was delicious. Your prose could use some work though," you quipped.

"If I knew what prose was, I'd be offended, but I don't so I'm not," Shoresy declared.

You leaned against your doorframe, a wave of seriousness washing over you. "Are you tired of me giving you the run-around yet?"

"Me? Never," said Shoresy. "I told ya, I'd do anything to show you how serious I am about ya. I'd, fucking, walk 500 miles and 500 more if it meant I could take out your trash."

Without warning you stepped forward, closing the gap between you and Shoresy, gently kissing him. You could tell he was momentarily taken aback before he reciprocated, his hands finding their way to your waist. His touch made your skin break out in goosebumps, your heart pounding in your chest from exhilaration. When you eventually pulled away from each other, both of you were beaming.

"This is the summer I'm closing on you, Shoresy."

[eveningspirit]

Yesterday, my sleep deprived brain figured it out: this show is trying to gaslight me. Either that, or I'm gaslighting myself. Well, the latter is, actually, far more probable.

Anyway. Here's me fighting the show and y'all. Not really. I'm not fighting anyone, or saying my take is the only correct one, or attempting to prove something. I'm just trying to wrap my head around my very specific interpretation, that I found breadcrumbs of from the very first episode. Idek. Acting choices? Director choices? Me overinterpreting things that have no meaning at all? IDEK!

Bear with me. Or not. I'm not forcing anyone to read this post. But here it goes.

Does Frank Langdon Suffer Chronic Pain? [as evidenced by screencaps]

Part One -- episode 1x01 and 1x02

To start, I'll quote Patrick Ball (who may or may not know what he's talking about and may also be a lying liar who lies, because tptb told him to) from this interview, at around 10:00 minutes mark:

"[...] emergency workers, for whatever reason, [...] fall into a trap of self medicating [...]" "You never know what the person across from you is going through." "It was really cool for me to track these moments of... of... umm... breakdown, or moments of high stress, or moments of high need and then put those away and move on."

So yeah. Here's me trying to pin-point those moments:

A little blink-and-you-miss-it moment. Judging by any of pain scales though, if a person next to you experiences pain up to level 6, you are not likely to notice, if you don't know.

The rest is under the cut, because this post is looong.

The two above are from 1x01. The rest are from 1x02.

This moment is hard to exhibit through a screen-cap, but there's an audible "Ouch!" that I scratched my head about for a while. I came to a conclusion it's because he had to lift his shoulder. It's consistent with some movement limitations I noticed in later episodes.

Then, there's this from the next scene, a few minutes later:

The next one, again, is hard to explain via a screencap:

So, a little note. Here, Langdon is shifting the whole time. Stepping from one foot to the other, leaning his body forward and back. It may be indicative of ADHD, as I've seen interpreted at the time. It may be anxiety. But it may also be because of physical discomfort/pain.

From the same scene, a little later:

Losing patience a little? Hm, wonder why would that be.. (because the mom of the pot gummy-bear kid was kind of annoying, I kno..)

And a last thing for this part, which will be repeated over the next parts--Langdon is almost always sitting at a patient's bed-side (and not because Robby told him that's better for the patient satisfaction score), or leaning against things. IMO, to take some of his body-weight off his legs.

The last one is blurry, I know, but it illustrates the point.

That's it for now. I'm back to writing my headcanon disabled Frank Langdon fanfics. Next parts of this dissertation may or may not appear in the coming days. It appeared. (don't take it too seriously, please. i honestly mostly made it for myself. ;) )

[fairyhaos]

How To Fucking Write: a guide by fairyhaos

[masterlist]

this post details:

STARTING A STORY

PACING A STORY

hi gays and gals and welcome to "how to fucking write", a post (series) where i talk about how i brainstorm for writing, plan for writing, write the writing, and everything in between. nothing too serious here lmao, but i'm definitely planning on making at least a couple posts on this bc a) it's fun and b) i wanna help! so if you find this useful then pls lmk by reblogging + drop an ask if there are any specific things u want me to give my two cents on ^^

okok and now without further ado,,, let's look at the topics i'll talk about in today's post!

#1 - HOW TO START A STORY.

.. bullet point one : have an idea

the first big thing is that you need an idea. doesn't matter if you're a pantser and don't plan out your writing before you start. that's totally fine! but before you begin, you need at least an idea: maybe it's a vibe, a character personality, a specific journey you want the characters to go on. maybe it's a piece of dialogue. maybe it's the ending- the point you want to end up at after however many thousand words.

whatever it is, it's best to have some inspiration, some idea of what you wanna do. no point in writing if you don't know what you're writing, you know?

(of course, that brings up the issue of Having An Idea in the first place, but finding inspiration to write is a whole other can of worms we can open in another post.)

.. bullet point two : practice

okay, so now you have an idea. how do you put that idea to paper? how should you actually start your story?

it’s all to do with practice.

it’s the most annoying piece of advice in the world, but it helps so much. you just have to write lots and lots and lots, to find the way that works for you. whether you wanna start your stories with pretty scene descriptions, with dialogue, with dramatic one-liners. finding your voice, your style, what’s most comfortable for you, is really really important. and takes practice.

an example, though: for me, i prefer either a line of dialogue, or one-liners that a) help immediately establish a character’s personality or can b) introduce an interesting setting.

[chan + swingset] — one-liner example

[hoshi + silly] — dialogue example 

but of course, everyone’s style is different. so i’d recommend playing around! find a list of one-word prompts and just write a few that inspire you, writing the beginnings. it’s important, also, that you’re having fun, because if you’re already struggling with starting to write, it’ll be even harder if you’re doing it while feeling stressed.

.. bullet point three (mostly just for longer fics)

maybe you don’t find a style, in the end. maybe you’re comfortable with all of them, which is totally fine! but then you look at your writing, and you think, “oh… this isn’t as good as i thought.” 

and it makes you want to give up. what do you do, then? how do you carry on with your start?

just put words to paper. it doesn’t matter if the words are terrible, if you’re making up shit and using placeholders for description words or whatever. just carry on, get to a place you’re happy with, like the end of a scene, or maybe a dialogue exchange you really like.

because now, guess what? you’ve successfully created a first draft.

making first drafts is actually so important. seriously. first drafts allow you to fuck up, allow you to write terribly. they help you fumble and trip your way to the finish line (or at least a rest point) so that you can go back and do better.

even if your first draft is terrible, it’s helped you make your way to a point you’re happy with. now you have a vague idea of what you want, even if the description or characterisation or something is way off. because now, you can edit it, or even scrap it and use only a few words from that draft in your next one. or maybe, if you look back at it, maybe it’s even decent enough for you to use. 

whatever it is, when you first start writing that story, think of it as ‘The Worst Draft’. because it probably won’t be as good as you want it, and it’s okay. just write, with no fears of it being bad, because that’s literally fine. it’s not set in stone. the backspace button exists. after your first draft is made, make another. and another, and another, because i promise, after that first draft, it only gets better from there.

#2 - PACING A STORY.

.. bullet point one : adding things

pacing is always really tricky. however, i do think that slowing a story down is easier than speeding it up, so here we go,,,,

finding out the exact way to slow down a story really depends on what type of story you're writing, but there are a few all-round things you can do which can help pretty much any setting.

if it's a scene with loads of dialogue, and things feel like they're jumping to the end topic too quickly, add descriptions. your readers are blind, writers, and they depend on you to be able to see what's going on. are your characters having a conversation on the street? take a break to describe what they see. are they in a coffee shop? maybe someone comes in with a huge noise, or their coffee arrives at their table. are they hanging in midair with nothing around them? well, describe the actions of the character they're talking to, then.

example: (from my seoksoo fic bc it's the only long fic i'm working on rn)

by adding character descriptions, movement, thoughts, instantly everything seems to have slowed down. it thickens time, allowing you to move at a more leisurely pace.

if it's a scene full of action, you can do the exact same thing. maybe there's a high-tension moment and something significant happens. slow down time there, describe something small in great detail. talk about the thoughts they're having.

and even if it's just an ordinary scene, describing is important. the setting, the characters' actions, their thoughts. it's okay to write too much. then you can delete things which make things feel like they're moving too slowly.

.. bullet point two : delete

not gonna lie, finding out how to speed up the pacing of the story can often be really specifically tailored to the setting of the story.

with stories that have loads of action (spy, apocalypse, etc) i'd recommend adjusting sentence length. you'll want short, punchy sentences, without loads of commas and clauses, but you'll also want to experiment with having those short sentences gradually get longer. it helps with tension and suspense.

it has to be short. running fast. something to elevate fear. quick, but also desperate, before they then spill over each other, picking up pace, all of the thoughts blurring together and going faster, and faster, and faster, and then-

then the penny drops.

people use the metaphor of music a lot, and it really does work that way. it needs to ascend to its climax: gently, cautiously, before sprinting upwards and only describing things like the barest emotions (the fear they feel, the panic, anger, anything) before everything reaches its peak and comes crashing down in a flurry of action descriptions.

but of course, the easiest way to speed up something is to delete. delete swathes of setting description. delete unnecessary dialogue. delete an entire scene and rewrite with only the things you remember (which can help make sure you only have the essentials in your scene, btw. very helpful).

it might take a bit of adjusting, rewriting, moving things around, but ultimately, quickening the pace of the story depends on the way in which you write things. be concise, be dramatic, and don't dawdle.

... and that's it ! if anyone has anything else they want advice on (how to structure, how to write dialogue, how to plan etc) then just shoot me an ask, because i'd love to help however i can :)

tagging: @selenicives who asked for this in the first place hehe ^^

[roseglass-writings]

The Role of a Big Brother

I am currently obsessed with final destination bloodlines and desperately wanted to focus on the family bonds among the characters - but especially in this one scene with Erik and Julia. This took longer than intended to write as I kept on rewatching this scene to get the dialogue and details for the characters accurate lol. Hope you enjoy - I have some ideas for other scenes as well to expand on if this one goes well!

(If you saw this uploaded briefly before it was finished, no you didn't lol tumblr decided to glitch and post half way through when I went to save it to my drafts ffs lol)

there are no exact ages for any of the characters so I went with this:

Erik: 25, Julia and Stefani: 20, Bobby: 19, Charlie: 18

TW: violence, death, grief, blood, angst

Word count: 4319

---- 2005 ----

The sound of Erik's trainers against the gleaming white hospital floor's echoes along the corridor as he jumps about excitedly next to his Uncle Marty.

"Erik, I know you are excited, but you need to wait a moment - can you come and stand here, please?" His uncle asks, unable to stop his smile as he watches his small nephew.

"But it's taking ages!" Erik grumbles, before slumping against the fall next to his uncle and begins to chew against his already destroyed sleeve - the dark blue fabric already tearing.

"It won't be long now, your Dad is on his way, and then you will get to meet your new baby sibling."

"Will they be as noisy as Steffie?" Erik asks, looking up at his uncle, having stayed over the past couple of nights and having been around his cousin who was born a few weeks ago.

Marty chuckles, finding it adorable how quickly Erik gave her a nickname, "most likely, I'm afraid. It is just what babies do when they need attention as they can't speak. But soon enough they will be as big as you are now, and you will be able to play together."

At that moment, Howard pushes open the doors further down the corridor - his smile growing even larger at the sight of his son.

"Dad!" Erik cries at the sight of his Dad, rushes towards him and throwing himself into his arms, glad to be with his Dad after not seeing him for the past few days.

"Erik! How is my little man doing, hey?" Howard asks, easily picking him up tightly.

"Good, I missed you and mum though. Is she okay?" Erik asks.

"She is alright, just very tired. Have you been behaving for your aunt and uncle?" Howard asks, looking at Marty as he walks closer.

"Yeah! I even helped Auntie Dee with Steffie!" he responded, causing both men to chuckle.

"He has been as good as gold, Brenda and the baby okay?" Marty asks.

"Yeah, labour went on longer than expected, but everyone was okay luckily."

"Good," Marty responds, "anyway, I best be off now, Dee is still recovering, and I don't like leaving her alone for long. Let me know if there is anything else I can do for you."

"Thanks' for everything Marty, seriously." Howard responds, taking Erik's spiderman backpack off his hands.

"I'll see you soon, okay Erik? Thank you for helping us with Stefani, it has been lovely having you over."

Erik unlatches himself from his Dad to quickly wrap himself around his uncle's legs, before watching him leave.

"Come on bud, you've got someone very important to meet," Howard states, taking Erik's small hand into his own.

They walk through the halls, reaching a wooden door. Howard crouches down next to Erik, laying his hands gently onto his son's face, "when we get in there you are gonna have to be really good for me and make sure you aren't too loud okay? Your mum is very tired and hurt, and your baby sibling, much like your new cousin, can get scared easily by new things."

Erik nods his head rapidly in excitement, "I'll be good dad - promise! Aunty Dee and Uncle Marty can tell you how good I was with Steffie, even when she was crying!"

Howard chuckles, before running his hands through Erik's black hair and knocking on the door and walking inside.

"Mum!" Erik calls, walking quickly towards his mum who was laying in the hospital bed, her blonde hair shining in the sunlight from the window as her head snaps towards him.

"Erik! Oh how are you sweetie, come up here and give me a cuddle." Brenda responds, unable to stop her smile at the sight of her eldest child. Within an instant he climbs on the bed, gently wrapping his arms around her. Brenda wraps her arms around him in return, watching as Howard goes over to their newborn.

"How would you like to meet your baby sister?" Brenda asks softly.

"I have a sister?" Erik asks, shooting up and turning his attention towards Howard, who returned to their side and sat down carefully beside Erik on the bed. Within his arms, there lied the small baby - with small strands of golden hair sitting upon the crown of her head.

"She is so tiny," Erik whispers, his eyes unable to leave her form, "can I hold her?"

Howard chuckles lightly, "of course, you remember how your aunt and uncle showed you how to hold Stefani?"

"I do!" Erik responds, his legs kicking back and forth in excitement as he holds his arms out, watching carefully as Howard places his little sister on his lap.

"This, Erik, is your little sister Julia." Brenda states, her eyes filling up with tears at the sight of her children as she shares an emotional smile with Howard, who carefully rests his arm around Erik and holds her hand.

"Hi Julia," Erik whispers, staying perfectly still as she shuffles slightly, her eyes opening and staring up at him.

"As her big brother, it is your job to look after her," Howard states.

"Like I do with Steffie?" Erik asks, glancing up at his Dad before looking back down and letting Julia wrap her hand around his finger.

"Exactly," Howard chuckles, "while it is our job as your parents to look after both of you - we can't always be there. It is your job as her big brother, and in Steffie's case, her eldest cousin, to make sure they are okay when we are not there."

Erik nods in agreement, "I can do that - I promise! I will be an amazing big brother!"

Brenda and Howard share a laugh, "I know you will baby," Brenda replies, soaking in the sight of her family.

---2025----

Exhausted, Erik heads down the street - his body aching from the chaotic fire that erupted at the tattoo parlour the previous night. While the medics gave him the all clear, with his leather jacket paying the price rather than his flesh, it did not mean nearly having his septum piercing ripped out due to his boss' shitty interior and falling into fire didn't hurt like hell. Erik, while furious with his boss - especially as he didn't even bother coming back to the shop once the police were able to get a hold of him, is too exhausted to truly fight about it. He only went as a favour and to try to take his mind off of what happened to his dad - the sight of his dad's face being shredded by the lawn mower being forever burnt into his mind, with chunks of flesh sprayed around beside his skull and his eyes turned into mush.

Desperate to push the memory out of his mind, Erik focuses on the orange juice in his hand - his only energy booster until he can collapse onto his bed after explaining everything to his mum, albeit with a lot of the danger cut out to reassure her that he was okay. She hasn't been able to do anything but cry these past few days, with barely having the energy to get out of bed - especially after Stef dragged them all downstairs the day after his dad's funeral to tell them how they will all die. Erik scoffs, still feeling annoyed at his cousin's behaviour. From barely speaking to them since going off to college, to coming back saying that death is coming for them and that he is going to die - right after choosing to use his dad's death for attention? He doesn't even know what part of Stefani's actions has pissed him off more.

SREECH

Suddenly, his mind is snapped out of his wandering thoughts as a car slams into his legs - forcing him onto the hood.

"Ow!" He exclaims, looking up through the window, only to come face to face with the terrified faces of his cousins. "Are you trying to kill me?"

"Erik?" Stef's muffled exclaim of surprise immediately causes him to be reminded of his annoyance towards her once more.

"Oh, yeah no, of course it's you," Erik groans, slapping the roof of the car and turns back towards the pavement as he tries to ignore how the pain in his legs has increased. As he takes a sip of his orange juice, he hears the car doors slam shut behind him.

"Dude," Charlie exclaims, causing Erik to roll his eyes in frustration, "we heard about the fire, we thought you were dead."

"I'm fine," Erik responds, turning back around to face them.

"Oh my god, are you okay? I was so worried about you," Stef rushes out, immediately grabbing onto his shoulders.

"Yeah, the firefighters said I was lucky as fuck that I was wearing that leather jacket, I barely got burned." He explains with a slight smile, wanting to reassure them if they already got the news that the whole place burnt down. That, and they would be easier to reassure than his mum. "Ruined my favourite jacket though."

Stef picks up his arm, quickly noticing the wrapping around his forearm, "what's this?"

"Oh!" He exclaims, "yeah, check it out."

Erik quickly pulls back the gauze to reveal his new tattoo and the - very painful - heart shape that is now burnt into his skin. "I got branded! Sick, right?" He states, raising his eyebrows, trying to lighten the mood as he glances over to his youngest cousin, "You like it?"

Stef's concern and worry quickly turns to anger, "you said you were asleep."

"Well you were blowing up my phone like a goddamn stalker, what do you want me to do?" He retorts, his annoyance growing.

"No, I don't get it," Stef argues, "you should be dead." She turns to Charlie in confusion.

"Right, right, yeah," Erik responds, tilting his head up towards the sky to hide his growing anger at Stef, trying to push it aside to focus on getting back home to sleep off the terrible night. "Or, you know, maybe," he begins as he wanders into the road to try and get away from them as he tries to play it off with a smile, "maybe death's not actually coming for our family. Because that would be fucking crazy."

A van screeches past right behind him, so close the wing mirror brushes against his hair, unrelenting in its pursuit down the road, with it's only acknowledgement of the near accident being the blaring horn.

"Jesus, shit!" He yells, his heart races out of his chest at the close-call, just wishing this day was over with. He looks back to his cousins, seeing the terror and panic etched clearly on both of their faces.

"Or maybe I'm invincible?" He jokes, hating to see such fearful looks on their faces. He chuckles, backing up and getting back onto the pavement - knowing with his luck they will follow him and continue Steffie's pursuit - but at least they will be off the road and away from any more reckless drivers.

"Erik!" Stef cries, her footsteps quickly racing after him with Charlie's following, "Erik!"

"Yeah," he responds, focusing on his house down the street and trying to ignore Stef's rambles about death until he has had some sleep.

"Erik wait, stop! Just wait, okay?"

"Hm." he hums in response, trying to brush off Stef's fixation on his death.

"Just because death didn't kill you last night doesn't mean that you're safe." Stef glances up at the tree, noticing the tree trimmer leaning against the branches. "Stay away from that tree trimmer!" She cries, grasping hold of Charlie's arm and pull him to the other side of her and away from the trimmer.

Erik looks over towards in and purposefully slows down, "ooh," he mocks as he scuttles past - focusing purposefully on the tree trimmer while doing so, "oooh, gonna move on it's own Stef is that what it's gonna do?"

"I-it could fall," she stutters, trying to rationalise her thought process and worries. "And stay away from those kids."

Erik glances over at the kid's lightly kicking the soccer together, the ball barely leaving the concrete, "I'll take my chances."

"Stef," Charlie begins, his concern for his sister's wellbeing growing, knowing that she hasn't been okay since returning home from college. "How's a couple of kids with a soccer ball gonna kill him."

Erik mindlessly listens to their conversation, finishing off his orange juice and chucking the carton into the open bin - understanding why Charlie is encouraging Stef's beliefs about death coming for them. He knows how much he missed his older sister, with Charlie often coming to visit them, asking if they had heard from her, or if he could hang out with them. With her suddenly being back for a while, it makes sense to Erik for Charlie to join her in this disturbing crusade as it means he gets to spend time with her once more, especially with how close they were before Stef went to college.

"I-I mean, I don't know, the trimmer could fall and hit the leaf-blower guy which causes him to... blow stuff into the kid's eyes and then kick the ball into his face." Stef blurts out, her mind racing as she tries to piece it all together.

"Woah, woah, woah," Erik sarcastically beings, turning around, mockingly serious as he faces his cousins, "a soccer ball to my face? That does sound deadly." He glances down to the concrete, trying to maintain a straight face. "I should be more careful."

Finally reaching the driveway, Erik notices Julia leaving the house about to start her usual morning jog.

"Hey," Julia calls, looking up from her phone.

"What's up." Erik responds, his exhaustion evident in his tone, knowing he is so close to being able to finally go to bed.

"What happened to you?" Julia asks, the news about the tattoo parlour having not reached her yet - much to Erik's relief.

"Charbroiled by death apparently," he jokes, showing her his new tattoo and burn mark.

"Kiki," Julia softly says, the familiar nickname causing Erik to feel slight guilt settling in his stomach at causing her to worry. "That look's really bad."

"Yeah, it's fine." Erik quickly reassures her - letting her grab hold of his arm to look over the burn, knowing she would be even more worried if he told her about the jacket and how close it was to being much worse.

"No, wait - let me see that." Julia responds, refusing to let Erik brush aside his burn mark - knowing that it is probably as bad as it looks and his nonchalance is bullshit.

"No, stop, stop" Erik teases Julia, slapping her hands away as soon as her finger goes near the burn, ignoring Stef beginning to press her hand against his back.

"Erik just stay away from the truck," Stef says, her eyes glued to the rubbish truck, backed up closely against Erik as though she was his shield.

Erik turns around, seeing the typical yellow truck slowly begin the process of emptying their bin. "Oh, what this truck?"

"Stop, stop," Stef panics, trying to stop Erik from walking backwards towards the truck, his carelessness causes her heart to race as she stands frozen, watching him get closer to it.

"Oh my god," Julia mutters, glancing at Charlie in annoyance that Stef is continuing the belief that death is after them after seeing how much it upset them so soon after just losing their Dad.

"This truck right here? But it's such a beautiful truck!" Erik states, ignoring Stef's pleas as she continues to try to get him away from it.

"Please, please just listen to me for once," Stef calls out - her worry evident as she glances between Erik, who turns around and begins to mockingly kiss the truck, "please, stop, stop," she stares intently at the metal arm grabbing the bin, glancing over at Erik, as though it may break and hurt him, "don't touch... Erik get away, stop."

Erik continues to ignore her, becoming more dramatic to wind her up, "you like that?"

He glances over his shoulder, seeing the slightly-disturbed and deadpan expressions on his cousins and sisters faces, before looking down at the tyre, "oh my god," he smacks the tyre, "uh oh!" looking back over to see Stef finally stop worrying for a second, with both her and Charlie looking mildly uncomfortable instead while Julia is busy on her phone.

"Oh Erik is tempting death again," he calls out, purposefully staring at Stef as he jokingly rubs his hips into the tyre, "what's gonna happen?"

"Stop doing that!" Stef snaps, more disturbed and angry at his mocking than worried.

"What's gonna happen?" Erik mocks with a grin, dancing towards Stef and pointing directly to the truck, just as it begins to drive off, "nothing at all."

"Wait, just please," Stef tries to explain.

"How about that." Erik states, just wanting to go to bed, his frustration at Stef growing by the minute as he walks towards her, wanting to get in the house.

"I am just trying to help you-" Stef is cut off, accidentally backing up into Julia, who was focusing on her phone.

"Okay," Julia startles, tucking her phone into her pocket,

"I swear to god," Erik mutters, "try less."

"Yeah, honestly, we are so done with your garbage," Julia states, tucking her earbuds into her ears as she begins off down the road.

Hearing Julia's response, Erik feels proud, knowing how much it hurt Julia when Stef went off to college and continuously blew her off and ignored her messages after being as close as twins with their birthdays only weeks apart. He had seen her cry on multiple occasions from Stef's actions once going to college last year, hearing her question his parents, Uncle Marty and Charlie whether she did something or if she found others she preferred spending time with there.

Trying once again to head towards the house, Stef turns towards him and quickly stops him once again, "can you please-"

"For the fifteen hundredth time," Erik snaps, his anger at Stefani finally blowing up, "no one gives a shit about your silly little death curse okay. So take a hint and leave us alone, because death's not coming for our family."

Julia's shrill shriek of surprise echoes around them, cause Erik to snap his attention towards his sister, only to see her body falling straight into the rubbish bin and emptied into the truck.

He freezes in shock, only for Stef pushing past to snap him out of it. He races towards the moving vehicle, ignoring the pain in his body from the fire and focuses on trying to get to his sister.

"Julia!" He cries, noticing Stef race towards the ladder while Charlie follows after him. He slams against the truck while Charlie tries to yell for the drivers attention - desperate to try and get the driver to notice them.

The truck's compacter begins to whirl into action, his heart pounding in his eardrums, his heart dropping into his stomach at the sound as he pushes himself to move quicker - the terrified and desperate screams from his little sister filling the air.

He reaches the passenger side of the truck, unable to open the door due to the lock. He slams on the window, yelling at the driver as he tries to get his attention, only to realise it isn't working and using the adrenaline coursing through his veins to push himself towards the front of the truck.

"Woah, woah! Hey, stop!" He yells throwing himself in front of the truck, uncaring about his safety as he desperately tries to save Julia, "stop!"

The truck comes to a screeching halt, however the sound of the compressor continues - alongside Julia's terrified screams.

"My sister's in the back!" He bellows, barely able to hear anything more than the the whirring compressor and Julia's scream turn into screams of agony, the blood curling cries filling the air just as he races around the other side of the truck - only to suddenly go silent.

Erik feels his body go numb as the adrenaline is replaced with dread, his heart pounding uncontrollably as his little cousin's screams of horror fill the air, still clutching tightly onto the ladder and Julia's arm.

The engine for the truck turns off, though Erik knows it is too late - his baby sister is dead.

He was too late.

"Charlie, go back to the house," he utters, desperately wanting to shield his youngest cousin from this, "now Charlie!" he pushes, not wanting him to linger around here anymore.

"Oh- oh god, what have I done. I didn't... I didn't know she was there..." the driver stutter's out, collapsing to the floor as he gets out of the truck and realises what happened.

"Call 911!" Erik yells towards the driver before forcing himself to climb up the ladder, his legs shaking from adrenaline as he focuses on getting his cousin down.

"Steffie," he murmurs once close to her, trying desperately not to look into the truck. Her sobs racks through her whole body, her hand still tightly holding onto Julia's.

He gently wraps his arm around her, with taking hold of Julia's still warm wrist, purposefully ignoring her blood now on his hand and on Stef. "You need to let go, okay? We need to get off the truck."

Stef shakes her head, words unable to leave her mouth as sobs uncontrollably rip their way through his body. "You must Steffie, we need to get down." Slowly, he is able to coax Julia's dismembered arm out of Stef's grasp, laying it down on top of the compressor as though it was made of glass.

Slowly, he is able to begin to get them both to climb down the ladder, but not before he catches a glimpse of what remains of his little sister. All that is visible is half of her skull, with her jaw having being crushing in half. Her eyes, frozen in fear and bulging out of their sockets - the once green eyes now bloodshot, with blood oozing from them. Blood splattered around her, and running from her nose onto the few teeth that were not destroyed. The rest of her body would be lying in the back of the truck - mixed with the typical waste from the street, reduced to nothing more than a bloody mess, as though she was just as insignificant as the orange juice carton he threw out moments ago in the same bin she fell in.

Clenching his eyes shut, ignoring the burning in his eyes as tears uncontrollably began to form as he focuses on getting Stef to the ground. As soon as they reach the ground she collapses to the floor, her anguished sobs racking though her body and she curls up against Erik, his arms wrapped around her tightly as he tries to comfort her.

Distantly he can hear the driver behind him breaking down while on the phone, stumbling over his words as he desperately tries to explain the situation, his guilt overwhelming him as he realises what he done.

Erik clings tighter onto his cousin, tears running down his face without his control. His heart clenches painfully as his gaze focuses unseeing on the ground, his mind struggling to wrap around the knowledge that his baby sister is gone. He can still hear her screams echoing through his mind, the pain and terror of her last moments forever imprinted in his soul - knowing that he was not quick enough to save her from her horrific fate.

His little sister was gone.

His little sister who used to follow him around with Stef, begging him to play with them.

His little sister who wanted to be just like him, to the point of cutting off her hair to match him when she was four.

His little sister who used to love bragging about her tricks on the trampoline and her skills at just dance, always roping him into contests.

His little sister who loved painted his nails and testing new styles and designs on him first.

His little sister whose first word was "Kiki", and always looked up to him and relied on him.

He was meant to look after her. That was his job, he was her big brother. And yet, even though he was inches away from her, Erik was too late and wasn't able to do anything. He failed her.

Suddenly, Erik hears footsteps racing towards them, Stef still inconsolable in his arms, as he looks up to see his Mum and little brother, both wearing matching expressions of distraught and disbelief.

"No..." Brenda manages to croak out, realising the truth when seeing Erik and Stef's crumbled forms on the road, "not my little girl, not my Baby."

Darlene quickly catches up and wraps her arm around Brenda just as she lets out a blood-curling scream, her agony at losing her daughter causing her to collapse to the floor. Darlene looks over at Erik and Stef, disbelief and horror in her eyes as she quickly realises the truth behind her own mother's beliefs about death being true.

Erik continues to watch the remains of his family as they fall apart, Bobby still staring at the truck, terror and distraught apparent on his face as he gently tries to comfort his mum, leaning against her with his hand pressed against her back. Charlie stays standing beside Darlene's, tears streaming down his face as his arms wrap around themselves, trying helplessly to figure out what to do.

"My little Julie, she can't be gone, tell me it's not true, please, Erik, tell me it's not true." Erik hears his mum pleads, guilt building in his lungs, powerless and unable to try to help or comfort her in anyway.

He failed his little sister, and she is never coming back.

[autumnmobile12]

Ambush Sim:  Touya and Hawks’ Relationship

I don’t want to call it complicated; how I write them is they’re both relatively straightforward with each other, but there is a distinct divide in how Hawks views Endeavor the hero vs how Touya views Enji his father.  That's not a part of their dynamic they can ignore, so this is the only way I can write this ship with any sense that it's a healthy one:

Hawks doesn’t know the full story and is also aware he can’t just pry it out of Touya, but he can tell with the father-son interactions that something is wrong and he has the understanding that whatever is causing Touya’s animosity is probably warranted. (He has heard the rumors other Pros share about Endeavor, has uneasily discounted them for lack of evidence and the fact none of the family members ever came forward, and has since come to the conclusion this stance may be naïvely optimistic.)  The same is true of Touya knowing Hawks has a reason to admire the hero but not knowing exactly what that reason is.  He has three main reasons for keeping silent about what his father did:

It is rooted in the years he’s already spent keeping silent in order to avoid the fallout should their family’s story go public.

It is also a matter of compassion.  He is not vindictive enough in this AU to completely ruin Hawks’ perception of his childhood hero, and this also a stance he took with his piano students.  True, there is the debate on whether or not it is honorable or even healthy to withhold that kind of information, especially when the likely response to finding that out is, ‘Wow, I wish you’d told me sooner.’  But this is the razor line everyone in this family walks in regards to their patriarch.

He's made this compromise with his sister; he figures he can do it with his partner.

So the result is Touya and Hawks have an unspoken and very temporary compromise of shelving the Endeavor issue.

They both know this is eventually going to be a discussion that can’t be avoided.

...

One thing I've noticed while writing, though, is their relationship very closely resembles these two:

And I'm pretty sure that's subconscious, but it's the personalities that match up for me.

Shinra is a more comedic character, but he's the character type you don't know to take seriously until they do something extreme and worth your undivided attention. Shinra will be joking and laughing with Celty in one scene, the next he'll be threatening a guy with a scalpel.

In the same manner, Hawks is similar. Trickster/goofball one moment, legitimately threatening the next.

Celty is also a bit of a silly character when you get down to it. In spite of being a serious and levelheaded fairy creature who's calling is to retrieve the souls of the dead and dying...she's clumsy, she misplaces things, she gets flustered, she's afraid of aliens to the point cheesy 80s sci-fi horror films scare her, and she's a terrible liar. What makes her comparable to Touya, however, is the theme of chasing something seemingly unattainable. Celty is a headless horsewoman whose head was stolen from her and she lost centuries of memories with it.

She could survive without her head, but she couldn't live without it.

And then there's Touya chasing after his father's recognition, surviving without it, and slowly learning to live without it in the Ambush Sim AU.

So in spite of the toxic elements of their relationship (and there are a few,) the way Shinra and Celty come together and balance out the bad with the good where it otherwise shouldn't happen...is adorable in all the wrong and right ways.

These two in the Ambush Sim AU are very slow-burn.

Hawks makes the slow-burn a writing requirement because of the demisexual headcanon I gave him. Putting it in the simplest terms, demisexuality is primarily needing an emotional connection first and foremost, and then there’s Touya who’s determined to keep everything emotional locked down due to past trauma. So the thought process is, 'That's a major incompatibility hurdle. Is that even gonna work?'

It's definitely one of the more challenging ship dynamics I've worked with, but after playing with the Trepha ship in the Castlevania fandom for the past couple years, I think I've got a good grasp of how to do it without it coming off as unnatural or toxic. In any case, it is an interesting ship to explore and I hope to do more with it in this AU because Touya and Hawks are very much black cat and golden retriever energy and I love that.

...

“So did you want me to cook or are you good with airport food?”

“Are you kidding me,”  Hawks laughed as he followed him.  “With how I was eating in America, I feel like I should fast for a week.  So many carbs.”

“I hear they have a good cultural variety.”

“Oh yeah, my first day there, I had barbeque pirozhki for lunch.  I don’t quite know what that is, but it was delicious.”

“I’ll find you a recipe then.”

“Really?”  He beamed at his turned back.  “You’re the best, you know that?”

“Yeah, yeah.”  Touya pulled out his phone.  “How do you spell that?

[airplanned]

If there was a Me for You extra bonus scene!

Does it fit into any of the one-shots? No! Did I write it even though I'd said I wasn't writing fic this week? Yes!

Someone commented that they were bummed they didn't get to see the crew's reaction to finding out the big secret. So here you go! Post-Whole Cake.

--

No one is giving Sanji much space, and he is entirely okay with that.  Luffy has snuggled up next to him on the bench, close enough that he would probably be in Sanji's lap had Chopper not gotten there first, and Luffy looks like he's seriously considering slowly shoving the reindeer out of the way, despite how Chopper is currently rubbing antiseptic on a cut on Sanji's forehead.  Brook sits next to him at the table, yet still manages to hover, and Nami is pacing, but never gets more than five feet away.  She's bristling, and it makes him feel both chastised and loved. 

"Take this off.  I need to see your wrist," Chopper says, and somehow it takes four of them to pull Sanji's ridiculous white jacket off his shoulders.  In just his shirt, he feels like he's better able to breathe, and he rolls up his right sleeve to the elbow to show Chopper, who hisses a the bruising and the skin rubbed raw around his soulmark. 

That cuff sucked.

"This ointment needs to be spread on it.  Can I do it, or would you like to do it yourself?"

"I'll do it!" Luffy announces, and grabs the tube from the table.  He grins up at Sanji and says, "I've never seen yours before."

And who can argue with that?  There's something deeply intimate letting Luffy touch his wrist.  Hell, even letting Luffy see his wrist is a big deal for him.  It's embarrassing and wonderful, and his crew loves him so much.  With a red face, he clears his throat and looks away.

The ointment is cold and goopy, and Luffy's treatment isn't what you would call gentle.  Is stings as it goes on and then numbs, his entire arm relaxing for the first time in weeks.

"Where's your watch?" Nami asks.

Sanji cringes.  "They broke it.  When they put on the--"  He gestures meaninglessly with his finger, but can't say the words.  It doesn't matter.  They all seem to understand. 

Her face crumples before she pulls herself back together.  "I'm sorry.  Do you...will you want something else to cover it?  I know they're not your style, but I'm not really using my old bracelets."  She waves her bare wrist, where the black swirls stand out against her pale skin.  "If you want them."

It's one of the kindest things anyone has ever offered him.  He has to blink a few times and swallow hard before offering up a crooked smile that's not supposed to be crooked.  "I think I'd like to let it breathe a bit."

Her eyebrows lift.  His smile evens out a bit, even as heat rises in his face.

"You do need to let it breathe," Chopper admonishes.

"Why are there diamonds?" Luffy asks.  His face is way too close to Sanji's wrist.  Close enough that he's probably breathing in the fumes from the ointment.

"Oh, uh.  It's--"

"It's none of your business, Luffy," Nami says.

"No, it's alright.  It's, um, negative space."  He traces the pattern with a finger, hovering just over his skin so as not to disturb the goop and not call Zoro.  "It's not black diamonds.  It's white Xs."

"Oh!  Like those pictures. Where sometimes its a candlestick and sometimes it's two faces."

"Optical illusions," Brook supplies.

"I suppose," Sanji says.

"Cool," Luffy says.  Then, "Oh I get it!  It's Wado."

"Luffy!" Nami shouts.

"What?"  The captain looks up at Sanji, who's holding very still, then back to Nami.  "What?"

"You're--How did you know that?"

Luffy looks genuinely confused, then lifts Sanji's arm to show her.  "You know the criss-cross-y part on the hilt of Zoro's sword?  It looks like that.  I mean...his is white, and Sanji's kinda pink, but--"

"Zoro's sword?" Chopper asks, suddenly sitting up straight and leaning forward to get a better look too.

Nami gives Luffy a sharp, tight-lipped look.  "That's a secret, Luffy."

"No, it's not.  They had first sight on Alabasta.  We all saw it."

Sanji points at him.  "See!  We told you all.  It's not a secret."

Luffy nods guilelessly.

Chopper's little mouth falls open as he gapes up at Sanji.  (And, yeah, those big eyes make him feel a touch guilty.)

"You did not tell everyone!" Nami argues.  "We all knew that first sight was Vivi."

"Yeah!" Chopper squeaks.

"Oh, yeah, that makes sense," Luffy says, squinting up at the ceiling deep in thought.  For a moment, Sanji wonders if Luffy is dumb enough that he somehow thought Sanji and Zoro had held off on first sight for a whole month of being crewmates.  But then he shrugs.  "Well, it makes sense they would want to have Vivi let them try again.  Their real one must not have been very good.  With Zoro dying and everything."

Sanji clears his throat.

"They didn't have first sight when Zoro was dying!  They had first sight at the table at the restaurant!"

Luffy frowns and blinks at her.

Sanji bites his lips and winces when her sharp look tuns on him.  "That's...when Zoro had first sight.  Yes."

She stares at him for a long moment.  Then her face falls in aggrieved disgust when it clicks together.  "You two are so stupid!  Honestly, you deserve each other."

It's insane that that makes him kinda happy.

"Wait!  Sanji and Zoro are soulmates?!  Like really?" Chopper shrieks.

He looks so upset that Sanji's knee-jerk response is, "Maybe?"

"You kept it from me!"  The little reindeer is now standing in his lap, shoving his chest with his front hoves, and he should probably be grateful he hasn't switched to heavy point and thrown him in the water.

"I thought you knew!  You're the only one who's seen my soulmark!"

"Your soulmark is a row of diamonds!"  Then Chopper gasps, and claps his hooves over his mouth.  "Zoro's soulmark is fish."  His butt starts to wiggle in excitement, tears building in his eyes.  Sanji hugs him closer.

And if there's a hug involved, Luffy needs to get in on it.  Next thing Sanji knows, his captain's head is on his shoulder and one of his legs is slung over Sanji's lap.

"What about you," Nami demands, jerking her chin at Brook.

"Oh, I assumed they were soulmates before I joined the crew.  But then everyone told me they weren't, and I didn't know what to think.  It was all very confusing.  It still is."  He takes a sip of tea.

Chopper is crying.  Sanji moves to pet him, but remembers at the last second that he has to do it with his left hand rather than his right.  He doesn't want the goop to get on his fur.

[deoidesign]

Happy webcomics day!!!

I'm not home (on a trip right now with family), but I still want to talk a little bit about my process, so I did what I could to find some wip shots 🧡

Plus, I'd also like to update my extremely patient readers with a little taste of what's to come!!!

Step one, of course, is writing.

When I'm writing I have four documents open. A "dump" document, a "yes this!" Document, an outline document, and a drawing canvas!

In the dump document, I put ANYTHING. complete stream of consciousness. The 'yes this' document is where I put anything useful from the dump document, and the outline is, of course, the outline. The drawing canvas is for me to sketch out problems and ideas and get sort of a different angle on things, since I can't really visualize.

Once I have a book completely written, I start thumbnailing!

My thumbnails pretty much look like this. Text, sketchy poses, indications of expression and maybe environment...

I thumbnail the entire book at once. I don't let myself do any edits on it until it's done, but I take note of edits I'd like to make! Then, once the first draft is out, I edit.

I'll move entire scenes, delete whole episodes, bring in bits from the end to have proper foreshadowing... Etc! It's a long process that makes my arcs feel much more complete and something I can be really proud of.

I can only do this when I'm really ahead, though, so that's why I've been on a long hiatus!!! I was forced to work without my process for a few arcs, and the difference is so huge to me that I refuse to let myself do it again. It makes a loner hiatus, but work way more worth waiting for!

Next step is lineart!

Yes, I skip sketches! I go right into lines.

I save every head I've ever drawn, and that lets me copy paste in a basic head angle. Then I redo the face, fix up the hair, etc. so it fits my panel, and then I draw the rest of the body!

This seriously saves me so much time, but less so for the drawing (i still draw a ton of heads and I'm very fast) and more just for helping me skip sketching entirely!

Then I do character flats, which since all my lines are closed that goes pretty quickly (slowest part is Steve's hair, I refuse to use a brush cause every one I've made looks terrible!!!)

And then I draw the backgrounds!

Which, I keep layered, clean, and HUGE so I can use them throughout the arc.

I used to feel bad doing this, but then I realized... It's not like backgrounds "change" irl. So why make them change in my comics...? It saves me so much time, but it ALSO lets me put in more detail per background! I draw probably 3 very large backgrounds per episode like this, and then I draw maybe 5-10 unique backgrounds for single panels per episode as well. I save these too, but they're rarely re-used.

And then my panels are done!!!

So there's a bit of my process for you all!!!

Happy webcomics day 🧡🧡🧡

And here's my comic, if you haven't read it and want to see the end result of this process, or if you have read it and would enjoy a re-read with the extra knowledge:

Or, if you would prefer books I have those too!

Happy to elaborate on any step, as well!

I make comics extremely quickly and as my full time job, and my process allows me to easily manipulate my format as well. I'm happy to share any of my knowledge if you have questions!!!

[vonbabbitt]

Throwing this in, though I know you have a post saying you're taking a break: I quite like Tetro. The story is exciting, and incredible. You've done an amazing job piecing everything together, and it has lead to me pretty seriously looking into following the footsteps of this project with a story also told in this audio format, since you demonstrated so clearly not only how this was possible, but how this could be done so well for a Killing Game specifically. The latest events, the latest death, as made me incredibly sad, and I feel a lot of emotional turmoil over losing both victims. But despite that, I have enjoyed the loving, losing, and worrying for the future. That's amazing. All of it is amazing. I have my theories and conclusions about who may be guilty and who isn't, but based on the posts I read, I mainly wanted to express an amount of thankfulness that the series exists at all. It's even lead to me writing fanpieces for some character interactions, and I imagine I have a few more in me from all that's gone on. Not only that, but the hard topics of this series have meant a lot to me. Yanagi and Tsuno have especially felt really close to home. The stories they talk about and the things they deal with matter in my own life. And the series as a whole has made me cry over stuff that mattered to me much more than any other media has done in the last year or so, maybe longer, in even broader strokes. All the characters don't just feel like people one could meet, but people I have met. People I have known. And some of those conversations feel just like ones I've had in my own life. You've done something incredible, and the writing has connected to me deeply. And though I can only speak for me, I doubt I'm alone in this. Thank you for this project, and thank you for sharing it so broadly, freely, and completely. Thanks for writing it, and writing daringly, maturely, and earnestly. At least, such are the ways I would describe it.

I hope I can cross paths with you sometime in the future over a creative endeavor. But in the meanwhile, I'll be tuned in to whatever you do for this, and for whatever comes next. As these things are called asks, if you do decide to respond: Who on Tetro is your favorite? Is it the same from when you were initially writing it? And what lead you to choose an audio drama as the medium in question? Thanks, and see ya at the trial.

thank you very very much, im extremely glad that youve been able to connect with my writing on that level and i hope that others have as well! i really enjoyed the writing process for tetro so its always really cool for me when others can enjoy my story as well

also, my favourite is hama! that changed a lot during production, but ive settled on hama as my goat forever i think. sorry to all the other favs i abandoned along the way

i chose the audio drama format because ive always really liked being able to picture things. when i was a kid, i used to fall asleep to audio books every night, and i really liked being able to picture the characters and stories as they were happening. i would always be so disappointed when id go to watch a movie adaptation of a book i liked only to see that everything looked different from in my head lmao.

i also think audio is a really fun format for this type of story! it was a fun challenge to get my points across without having visuals to back my writing. i didnt have very much faith in my ability to do this at first. tetro was originally planned to have a narrator because i didnt think id be able to tell a story without one. when i realized my writing could stand on its own, i took out the narrator and just let myself carry it as best i could. i think it made for some really fun opportunities where the impact of a scene just wouldnt have been nearly as strong if there had been visuals or narration.

i think [Ice Fairy] is a highlight of tetro in terms of audio storytelling - same with [Good Child]. having only audio forces you as the viewer to take a moment to figure out what's happening, which in turn gives you an "oh shit" realization moment that really helps the impact of a scene like [Ice Fairy] or [Good Child]. there are still some more really cool examples of tetro utilizing its format left to come - i hope you enjoy them when they do!

[awkward-imaginations]

| Reunions and Rivalries |

tetsuro kuroo x f!reader

The first time Kuroo saw you was when he noticed you sitting with Kenma, happily playing video games together. He would have been lying if he said he wasn’t surprised when Kenma mentioned he had made a friend on the first day of the new school year. He didn’t share much about you, but Kuroo knew you had just transferred to Nekoma High and somehow you had piqued his interest.

warnings/notes: highschool romance, fluff, slight angst, I do NOT write fanfictions or storys normally, this is a first, so I am generally sorry for everything. CRINGE. def will be cringe in some parts. I'm a big sucker for Kuroo, him and Kenma may be ooc but I don't care this is my silly story and I just need to get it out of my head so I can finally write my Master's Thesis in peace. Also, english is not my first language. This has been "proofread" by my friends (who are also non-native speakers, enjoy).

word count: 2659

former chapter | masterlist | next chapter

The familiar sound of Karasuno players shouting to each other filled the air as the Tokyo team approached. You walked next to Yaku, chatting casually, when suddenly two familiar figures came sprinting toward you.

“Y/N!” Nishinoya shouted at the top of his lungs, while Sugawara waved enthusiastically from behind him. Before you could even react, Noya wrapped you in a tight hug, nearly knocking poor Yaku off his feet in the process.

“Noya! Suga-Chaaaan~!” you grinned, pulling Sugawara into the hug as well. Noya, now gripping your arm dramatically, suddenly shifted his expression to one of exaggerated misery.

“Y/N!” he whined, pushing you away just enough to meet your eyes, still holding onto your arm. “You have no idea how terrible school is without you. It’s been torture!”

You laughed, playfully pushing at Noya’s shoulder. "Oh, come on, Noya. It can't be that bad."

"It is that bad!" he insisted, throwing his head back in exaggerated despair. "Ever since you transferred, it's like the life has been sucked out of our classroom. I can't even focus on anything anymore!"

Sugawara chuckled, shaking his head at Noya's antics. "I think you just miss having someone to cheat off of during tests."

Noya pouted, clutching his heart as if he’d been gravely wounded. "How could you say that?! I would never cheat! I just… I mean, maybe I miss having Y/N to help me out once in a while, but that's totally different!"

You smirked, crossing your arms. "Uh-huh, totally."

Nishinoya groaned, burying his face in his hands. "You don’t understand! It’s like no one else gets me. The energy in class is so dull now, Y/N! I'm completely doomed."

You rolled your eyes affectionately, patting Noya on the head. "You’re being a bit dramatic, don’t you think?"

"Not dramatic enough!" Noya cried, throwing his arms wide for emphasis. "It's been painful without you. Seriously, how do you survive at that new school? Do they at least let you sleep through class?"

You chuckled. "It’s not so bad, actually. I’ve made some new friends, and I still get plenty of sleep."

Noya looked betrayed, his eyes wide. "New friends? What, and you didn’t miss us at all?"

"Of course I missed you guys!" You reassured, smiling. "But you know, life moves on. Besides, we still get to play Guild Wars together."

„Yeah, nice raid yesterday,” Nishinoya exclaimed, fist bumping you.

Kuroo, watching the scene from a few steps away, furrowed his brow slightly. “So, she's close with the volleyball team at her old school too?” he asked casually, glancing over at Kenma.

“Hm?” Kenma blinked, only half-listening. “Obviously,” he said with a shrug. “Why? You jealous or something?”

Kuroo scoffed, his expression tightening for a moment. “What? No,” he replied, though his gaze drifted back to you, now laughing a bit too hard—at least from his perspective—at something Sugawara said. His jaw clenched involuntarily.

“You sure?” Kenma muttered, still not looking up. “Because it kind of seems like you are.”

“I’m not,” Kuroo grumbled, crossing his arms defensively. “Why would I be—”

His words trailed off as Daichi approached you, a calm but warm smile on his face. He greeted you with a firm hug, his arms wrapping around you in a way that spoke of years of friendship. “It’s been too long, Y/N,” Daichi said, his voice soft. “It’s a nice surprise you’re here.”

You smiled, your face lighting up. “It feels like ages.”

Kuroo watched the exchange, feeling his heart sink just a bit. Daichi’s hug wasn’t overly affectionate, but there was a sense of familiarity between you two that stirred envy in him. He tried to brush it off, forcing a smile, though it felt stiff on his face.

“The third years used to be in the same class as her brother since Kindergarten,” Kenma said quietly, as if reading Kuroo’s thoughts. “They’ve known each other for a long time.”

Kuroo exhaled, rolling his eyes, though the slight tension in his shoulders didn’t ease. “Great. Old friends,” he muttered, his smile feeling more and more strained.

Kenma smirked. “You’re terrible at hiding your feelings.”

"Wait… she has a brother?" Kuroo asked, his tone sharper than he intended.

Kenma gave him a surprised look. "You didn’t know? Yeah, L/N Ryouta—he goes to Nekoma too."

Kuroo’s mind raced. "L/N Ryouta? I don’t think I’ve met him."

Kenma shook his head. "Probably not. You’re in the university prep class, and he’s in regular courses. Still, kind of strange she didn’t mention him during one of your study dates."

Kuroo’s lips tugged into a slight frown. "We’re studying, not chatting." The fact that you had a brother he didn’t know about made him feel a little out of the loop. He didn’t like it.

Kenma shrugged. "It makes sense she'd be close with them. They’ve been hanging out since she was little."

Kuroo watched you laugh with Daichi and Sugawara, Noya had left you to help Tanaka “protect” Shimizu. You clearly had a lot of history with these guys. The way they greeted you, how easily you fit into their circle—it was obvious you were used to attention from boys. It bothered him more than he cared to admit.

Just as he was about to look away, you caught his eye and waved, your smile brightening. For a split second, you seemed to hesitate, a faint blush coloring your cheeks as if you hadn’t expected him to be watching. Kuroo smirked, feeling a little more at ease now.

Daichi, noticing your reaction, raised an eyebrow. "Who's that?" he asked, his tone casual but curious.

You turned back to Daichi, still smiling. "Oh, that’s Kuroo, Nekoma’s captain. You should probably go introduce yourself."

Daichi nodded, though his expression became a little more guarded. "Right. I’ll go say hi."

As Daichi walked over, Kuroo straightened up, masking his emotions behind his usual confident grin. Daichi extended his hand, his smile polite but strained. "Daichi Sawamura, captain of Karasuno."

Kuroo grasped Daichi’s hand, matching his too-firm grip with one of his own. "Tetsurou Kuroo. Captain of Nekoma."

Both captains forced smiles, but in the back of their minds, they had the same thought: I don’t like this guy.

“So… you’re not their manager?” Sugawara asked, giving you a playful nudge as he leaned against the wall next to you in the gym, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“Nope,” you chuckled. "I’m just here for moral support.”

Sugawara laughed. “Then I can support you supporting. We've got a cracking new setter, so I'll probably be on the bench the whole time.”

There was an ease between you and Sugawara that came with familiarity. You caught up on everything—school, mutual friends, and volleyball, of course. Time slipped away as the two of you talked, oblivious to anything else happening on the court.

Except someone was paying attention.

From across the gym, Kuroo’s gaze flickered toward you more than once. He tried to brush it off, but the more you laughed with Sugawara, the harder it was to ignore the twist in his chest.

“Oi, Kuro,” Kenma muttered, not even looking at him as he noticed the subtle tension radiating off his captain. “What’s up with you?”

Kuroo blinked, dragging his gaze back to the court just in time to see one of Karasuno's players miss a spike. “What do you mean? Nothing's up.”

Kenma sighed. “You’ve been staring over there for the last ten minutes. You’re distracted.”

“Distracted?” Kuroo scoffed, though his eyes flicked once again in your direction—watching as Sugawara leaned in to say something that made you laugh. Why does he get to make you laugh like that? Kuroo felt his jaw tighten. “I’m not distracted. Just… keeping an eye on the competition. You know, strategy.”

Kenma raised an eyebrow. “Sugawara isn’t even playing.”

Kuroo rolled his eyes, “You mean Suga-Chaaan~,” he mocked your greeting only to feign indifference afterwards. “I’m not watching him. Why would I care about some third year who isn’t even in starting lineup?”

Kenma looked at him blankly for a moment before shrugging. “I don’t know. Why would you care?”

“I don’t,” Kuroo huffed. “As I already said, it’s not like I’m jealous or anything.”

Kenma eyes flicked toward Sugawara, then back to Kuroo. “I didn’t say you were.”

“I’m not,” Kuroo added, a little too quickly. “I mean—”

“Kuro,” Kenma interrupted, his deadpan expression growing sharper.

“I—" Kuroo hesitated, suddenly aware of how ridiculous he sounded. “I’m just looking out for her.”

Kenma’s lips twitched into the slightest hint of a smirk. “Sure.”

Across the court, Sugawara was finishing a story, his eyes twinkling as he spoke. You laughed, leaning in a little closer. Kuroo’s eye twitched.

“It’s not like they’re flirting,” Kuroo mumbled under his breath, though his voice lacked conviction.

“What was that?” Kenma asked, not bothering to look away from the ball on their side.

“Nothing!” Kuroo snapped, a little too loud, drawing some curious glances from nearby players.

You and Sugawara, still chatting, were blissfully unaware of Kuroo’s growing frustration. Every time Sugawara made you laugh, it felt like a small jab, not because he disliked Sugawara, but because… well, he wasn’t entirely sure why. Or at least, he wasn’t willing to admit it yet.

The match was in full swing, as Shimizu joined you and Sugawara at the side, observing as the teams went back and forth on the court. You’d fallen into an easy rhythm with Sugawara, catching up and making jokes, but now that Shimizu had joined you, the conversation was a bit more reserved.

After a moment of comfortable silence, Shimizu turned toward you. “You’re not their manager, yet you’re wearing their jersey,” she remarked softly, her eyes following the ball.

“Yeah, it actually belongs to Kenma, we're about the same size, thought it would boost the team spirit” you replied, smiling fondly.

Shimizu nodded thoughtfully, glancing between you and Kenma on the court. “He seems to enjoy your company.”

You blinked, catching the subtle implication in her tone. “Wait, do you mean…?” You hesitated, feeling a slight blush creep up your neck. “You think I like Kenma?”

Sugawara, who had been listening in with a bemused expression, chuckled under his breath. “Oh no, Shimizu,” he said, shaking his head, “you’re way off.”

Shimizu tilted her head slightly, giving Sugawara a questioning look. “Really? I thought—”

Sugawara waved her off with a smile, clearly amused. “Trust me, I’ve known Y/N for a long time. She doesn’t go for the quiet, brooding type.”

You narrowed your eyes at Sugawara, half-embarrassed. “Hey, I can like quiet guys,” you defended, though it came out more as a weak protest than anything else.

Sugawara gave you a teasing smirk. “Maybe, but not that quiet.” He leaned in a little closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “Kenma’s great and all, but your type’s always been more… I don’t know, bad boy. The kind of guy who’s a little rough around the edges, gets under your skin.”

Shimizu blinked, her curiosity piqued. “Bad boy…?” she repeated thoughtfully, then her gaze drifted toward the court where Coach Ukai stood, arms crossed, observing the match with his intense focus. She nodded in his direction. “Ah. You mean someone like Ukai?”

You nearly choked, waving your hands in protest. “What? No way! He’s… hot, sure, but he’s way too old!”

Sugawara burst out laughing, and even Shimizu’s usually calm expression cracked into a smile.

“Nah, I wasn’t talking about Ukai,” Sugawara chuckled, nudging you playfully. “I had someone more… age-appropriate in mind.” He pointed subtly across the court to where Kuroo was setting up for a block, his sharp gaze focused on the game, his usual smug grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “I was thinking more along the lines of that bad boy.”

You froze, suddenly feeling like all the air had been knocked out of your lungs. “Kuroo?” You hadn’t even realized it, but the moment Sugawara mentioned it, something clicked inside you—like a light had been switched on.

Sugawara’s grin widened as he saw the realization dawning on your face. “There it is,” he said, his voice smug but not unkind. “Ryouta told me you just can’t shut up about him.”

You could feel the blush deepening, the heat spreading up to your cheeks. “I… I don’t…” you stammered, not quite sure how to deny it now that it was out in the open.

Shimizu watched you carefully, her quiet gaze perceptive. “So, it is Kuroo?” she asked softly, her voice neutral as ever, though there was a trace of curiosity.

You glanced at her, feeling a little trapped but knowing you couldn’t lie, especially not with Sugawara there, reading you like an open book. You sighed, defeated, and ran a hand through your hair. “Okay, fine,” you muttered, embarrassed but kind of relieved to admit it. “Yeah… I think I like Kuroo.”

Sugawara looked like he’d just won a game. “I knew it,” he said triumphantly. “I could tell from the beginning.”

Shimizu gave a small nod, her expression thoughtful. “He does seem like someone you’d get along with,” she said quietly.

“Well…” you began slowly, a shy smile creeping onto your face, “he is pretty great. He’s been really nice to me, even when he’s annoying.”

Shimizu gave you a small, knowing smile.

Sugawara’s grin softened a bit, turning more genuine. “Sounds like you’re smitten.”

You shot him a playful glare. “Don’t make it sound so cheesy.”

He chuckled. “Hey, no judgment here. I’m just glad you finally realized it.”

You groaned, half embarrassed but secretly hopeful. “Great, now I’m going to be overanalyzing everything he says to me.”

Sugawara laughed, clapping you on the shoulder. “That’s part of the fun. Just keep me updated.”

Later that night, the team piled into the bus, the soft hum of the engine filling the silence as the Nekoma players settled into their seats. You slid into a spot next to Kenma, Kuroo sitting in the row just ahead, his head tilted back against the seat.

As the bus started to roll down the road, you pulled out some flyers Sugawara had given you earlier and turned to Kenma and Kuroo. "Hey, by the way, Sugawara invited me to a festival nearby. His and my brother’s band, Secondhand Youth, is opening." You held out the flyer so they could see. "You guys listen to pop-punk, right?"

Kenma glanced up from his DS, raising an eyebrow, but before he could say anything, Kuroo replied a little too quickly, "Sure!" His voice was overly enthusiastic, and his eyes darted to you for a reaction.

Kenma blinked, clearly unimpressed. He gave Kuroo a sideways look, stifling a smirk as he mimicked, "Sure." His tone was flat, dripping with sarcasm.

You snorted, trying to hide a laugh, but Kuroo shot Kenma a mock glare. “What? It’s not like I don’t listen to it.”

Kenma couldn’t resist. “Name one band.” He leaned his chin on his hand, watching Kuroo with a blank stare, knowing full well his friend didn’t have a clue.

Kuroo paused, clearly stumped, his mouth opening and closing as if searching for a band name. “Well, Secondhand Youth, obviously.” You couldn’t help but giggle, and Kuroo turned to you, his expression a mix of mild panic and frustration.

"Okay, fine, maybe I’m not a huge fan," Kuroo admitted, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, "but I’d still go. For the experience, you know?"

Kenma rolled his eyes but kept a small smile on his lips. “Yeah, the experience of pretending to like music you’ve never heard of.”

You nudged Kuroo’s seat playfully from behind, your smile softening. "You don’t have to, Kuroo. But… you’re welcome to come, if you want."

Kuroo’s eyes met yours, his expression softening as well. “Nah, I wanna go,” he said, his voice sincere this time. “Could be fun.”

Kenma returned to his game, though he couldn’t hide the amusement in his eyes as he watched you and Kuroo interact.