#snapshots and character studies

[red-and-eclipses-aphmau-rewrite]

Deus Supra

Deus Supra

The first time Aphira sees the Lady, she is young. Her dad has taken her and her mom to the cathedral of the Divine in O'Khasis, and Aph doesn't really know what's going on. It's loud in the cathedral, and there's a group outside yelling about... something. Something about portraits changing. Aph doesn't know what that's about. If she's being honest, she likes the new portraits. They seem... comforting. Familiar. In a distant way, at least.

"Aphi, look at the pictures!" her dad says, laughing as he lifts her up, "They look like you!"

Aph doesn't say anything. She doesn't talk much, but she knows what he means. They do.

---------------------

When Aph is five, her father takes her and her mom to a lodge on a mountain. It's nice, and she gets to spend time with her friends all the time! They're always there, and there's new people to meet, too! Travis and Katelyn are almost as great as Zinnia and Garroth. There's other kids, but their father won't let her meet them. She doesn't like it, because she wants to meet them too.

One day, she's left to explore. It's warm, and there's no snow on the ground, and she can see a strange cave in the woods. She wants to know what's in there.

Eventually, she stumbles upon a cave filled with glowing green rocks. It's beautiful, and she's nearly transfixed staring at them.

"I don't think you're supposed to be here, little one." says a voice.

Aph whirls around and sees a vaguely familiar woman. The woman looks like her.

"It's not a safe place to be." she says, calmly. "Those who frequent this place have no intentions of keeping you safe."

Aph doesn't know what to say, once again. Still she tries to ask one thing, "Who... are you?"

"That is a complicated question to answer. I do not quite know myself. Still. Please follow me. I'll take you back to where you're staying."

The woman holds out her hand, and Aph takes it.

She leads Aph back to the lodge, yet... vanishes before they cross the treeline.

Her dad is in the main room, pacing and nervous, when Aph opens the door, and Aph rambles excitedly to him about her explorations and the woman.

She doesn't see her dad's friend look at her with interest as she talks about it.

---------------------

Aphira doesn't remember when she saw the Lady anymore. Sure, Zianna has taken her, Garroth, and Zane to the cathedral in O'Khasis, generally in conjunction with a larger trip to O'Khasis. Aph loves when Zianna and Garte take the three of them to O'Khasis, honestly, but understands why it doesn't happen often.

The Ro'Meaves have an... unpleasant history with O'Khasis, after all.

Aph has been drawing, lately. Drawing is nice and calming. She likes it, and it's something she has that's uniquely hers.

However, the drawings often take familiar shapes. The faces of people she sees in her nightmares. The faces of people who she watches fall in her nightmares.

She can never save them, no. Just watch as they fall, again and again, feeling guilt for broken bodies with faces she doesn't recognize.

It never ends.

---------------------

After the Lodge, Aph sees the Lady wherever she goes. She stands in shop aisles and sidewalks, invisible to everyone else. Sometimes, Aph cannot see her face and her gleaming golden eyes every time, but she can always see the markings.

She tries to stay inside, but the Lady is standing in the kitchen when she wakes up, smiling at her, kindly. She hides in her room, instead.

It's not enough.

Aph wants her to go away. She doesn't deserve the kindness the Lady offers, not after what she's done. She should've done more, should've fought, should've been better.

And yet, when she opens her eyes, the Lady is sitting on her bed, giving her a hug. Whispering that it's okay, that she's not a failure, that... that Aaron still loves her.

Perhaps, this can be enough. At least for now.

[clandestinian]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Merlin (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin) Characters: Merlin (Merlin), Arthur Pendragon (Merlin) Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Slash, technically, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Vulnerability, Character Study, Arthur Pendragon Character Study, Kinda, Introspection, Friendship/Love, Crying, Canon Divergence - Episode: s05e13 The Diamond of the Day (Merlin), ARTHUR DESERVED TO FEEL ANGRY Summary:

"All that power," Arthur taunts, "and you still can't save me."

--------------

Arthur feels everything. He feels it all.

_________________________________________________________

Hi everyone, this is my first-ever fanfiction! If you’d be willing to read it and tell me what you think, I’d be forever indebted to you. Seriously. Lets make out. 

Love, adelaide <3

[mad-hunts]

' i thought about you all the time, even though i've lived longer now without you than with you. even though i can't remember your laugh or the way you held my hand. these days, you're no longer a face to me. just a blurry picture that i carry in the pocket of my heart. i remember everything and nothing at all. i don't remember your voice. i don't remember the last time we spoke or what your favorite song was. i don't even know if you knew mine. but, i remember what you taught me very well. that there is never enough time, and i will always wish i spent more of mine with you. that every year i grow older... more people become memories, even the ones that still speak. i forget their voice, too. and i remember you taught me very well that no one can live without grief they carry in the pocket of their heart. you taught me that grief lives in the heart because it is just the price of having one. and now? i have to miss you until i am a memory in someone else's. '

[spaciebabie]

Hi hello I’m the one who sent that angsty Springtrap ask a while ago and I would like to know your favorite tropes because I may or may not have,,, made an ao3 acc.

MY favorite tropes??? 😳 honestly in regards 2 springtrap if hes in any amount of pain i enjoy it. a bit sadistic of me yes, but i hate him.

but on a more serious note, i enjoy most tropes when it comes ta him truly!! monster who only has a soft spot for the person of his affections? good. oooh the a fell first b fell harder trope is something i think would fit him too (where he falls harder). i dunno! theres a lot 2 think abt X3

uhhh i dont really think abt characters in tropes so im sorry if this wasnt helpful hgfhgfhgvkhkh

[megumishotgf]

more jjk fic recs (pt. iv) ⭑

finally got around to making a new post omg… sorry this took so long to upload. credits go to all these wonderful writers!!

featuring: mainly megumi, satoru, suguru, toji, nanami, other mentioned characters in the ‘multiple’ section . both ao3 + tumblr links!

masterlist fic recs (pt.i, pt. ii, pt. iii)

: ̗̀➛ megumi fushiguro x reader - ao3

this deleted one day on tumblr but baby i found it on ao3!! yakuza a.u. w/ childhood best friend! y/n

yuuji watches + films you guys… nsfw

nasty study session w/ megumi oh my

lingerie + megumi comes home. that’s it

: ̗̀➛ megumi fushiguro x reader - tumblr

‘are lemons fruits or vegetables?’ adorable drabble!

celebrating your nsfw birthday!!

megumi takes care of you after a long day yes in that way

megumi + his so who loves makeup ⋆˚✿˖°

alt! megumi + alt! y/n smut!! hell yeah!!

megumi + casual by chappell roan… that is all

masterlist of a wonderful + creative smau!!

and another one!! these are perfect!!

‘can i date your brother’ - you to tsumiki

megumi’s instagram!!

soft! megumi dating headcanons (these are perfect)

some more dating headcanons! i love him omg

and finally reverse comfort! megumi we need more of this omg he’s such a pretty boy

: ̗̀➛ satoru gojo x reader

satoru proposes!!

and here’s some smut for you afterwards

: ̗̀➛ suguru geto x reader

‘a series of snapshots of your life with suguru + satoru’ truly a masterpiece

smut w/ bassist player! suguru oh great heavens

brother’s best friend! suguru this is beautiful

and part. two we have truly been blessed!

sending tiktoks to college student! bf! suguru

: ̗̀➛ toji fushiguro x reader

masterlist from one of the best toji writers on this app!

being toji’s barbie doll gf⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

maid! reader x toji damn!!

: ̗̀➛ nanami kento x reader - ao3

you need a date to your sister’s wedding. major gentleman! nanami

: ̗̀➛ multiple characters

dick sizes… (megumi, yuuji, toge)

jealous texts w/ bae (gojo, nanami, toji, yuuji, megumi, yuuta, toge, sukuna)

shy! megumi, satoru + yuuji x popular! y/n (aka. my favourite trope because i am a leo)

gym texts (everyone included author was working hard af on this one!!)

big-tittied gf texts! (i love this god. gojo, nanami, toji, yuuji, megumi, yuuta, toge, sukuna)

sensitive! gf headcanons (megumi, yuuji, satoru, suguru)

finding out you were mistreated before (satoru, kento, choso, sukuna, toji, megumi, yuuji + suguru)

some wonderful dating headcanons! (yuuji, megumi, satoru + toge)

grocery shopping w/ suguru + satoru (poly? platonic? you can decide!!)

also a bonus for levi fans… i introduce you to my favourite fic of all time (ao3 link!)

three of these refuse to link, i will try fix it later omg. again so sorry this took so long!! ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

[vechter]

here are some fics that i've read in the last few months that broke my brain a little:

usher down the sky by mintchocochips dick and cass centric, set in the batman reborn era. stellar writing that captures their core truths so, so well: their shared ghosts of bruce and blüdhaven are always present and always aching

bleeding-heart doves by wraithwings cass and rose centric, set at a canon-divergent point in batgirl '08. fantastically evocative writing, amazing voices for both of them with some really visceral imagery. cass will actually break your heart unless rose does it first

objects in a mirror by clytemnestras short but gutting character study for babs, cass, helena and steph. each vignette is beautifully written and is so authentic to canon

door, opening by cowboysorceror multi-chapter case fic from jason's pov with a wonderful emphasis on his brotherhood with dick. amazing world-building and research seem to have gone into this fic and it's just so deliciously full of hauntings (still a wip but it's closing in on the conclusion)

abide the son by tnevmucric cass and dick centric vignette. the writing is so gorgeous and it's a very wonderful depiction of a less fraught dynamic between them

north star by starlingsinwinter desert baby arc from grayson '14 my absolute beloved. wonderfully poignant examination of the dick & bruce dynamic and a gorgeous insight into some core dick grayson-isms

incomplete/thoughts of total defeat by karples roy centric with a focus on donna and dick. absolutely adore the author's voice for roy and a gutting snapshot of the kind of demons that plagued roy in this era

Birdcage by nighhtwing (divineauthor) dick centric one-shot examining some of the spyral aftermath wrt bruce. this one will actually leave you physically sick because... he's really never going to recover from that kind of devotion, is he?

last light in a darkened room by bigdamnher0 tim and dick centric. case fic. the way tim and dick watch and see each other. tim's near palpable hunger for brotherhood versus dick's staticky performance buckling under the weight of tim drake's little brotherism. absolutely wonderful (warning for csa)

Some nights. by run_and_coke cass centric one-shot set in the current batgirl run, focusing on the civilian cast. absolutely wonderful voice for cass with a very authentic and snappy internal narration. gorgeous understanding of her character motivations

[marichild]

bsd fanfic recs

some of my absolute favorite fics I’ve read in the few months I’ve been insane about bsd. what are you guys doing if you haven’t read these.

tell me we do not live in vain by @valleykey・fyozai・57.1k, T, completed・relationship study・character study・travel fic

Fyodor’s weak heart thuds violently within its cage of flesh and bone, ba-thump. Dazai’s knife kisses cold on the skin of their throat. They swallow, and the bob of their Adam’s apple against it draws blood. “Alright,” Fyodor decides, “let’s find a way to die.”

// In the Decay’s aftermath, Fyodor and Dazai quietly slip through the cracks, and set on a journey.

through the pages by @valleykey・oda & dazai・5.3k, gen, completed・alternate universes

Near-infinity is finite. It’s not even close to real infinity. An infinity of coin flips will yield endless heads and endless tails, but it’s possible to flip a coin ten million times and land tails each one. “There’s a lot of bad that could be written in a book.” Oda doesn’t falter. “There’s a lot of good, too.”

///OR: snapshots of Dazai and Oda, across universes.

apocynum by @minusboy・skk・27.8k・M・completed・hanahaki au (with a twist!)

“Don’t bleed on the carpet,” Dazai says, as if it’s even his carpet he’d be bleeding on. “I’ll make you bleed,” he says, although it comes out half-hearted as well as weird and distorted with the tissue blocking his nose. Dazai just smiles at him beatifically. “Promise?”

on fresh wounds and picking on scabs

eternal game of tug & war by @blackwaves・2.9k, explicit, completed・sex dreams・character study

There’s something open, vulnerable, and overwhelmed on her face, and she gasps out the same high, breathy sound she lets out when she’s been running after a suspect, chokes out a string of please, please, please. Ayatsuji watches her do it and says: “This isn’t even maintaining plausibility anymore.” She straightens up. More familiar, there’s indignance on her face— “You can’t be criticizing me for your own sex dream. For one thing.” “It’s a valid critique.”

Or: the sex dream montage fic wherein Ayatsuji is psychosexually weird about all involved.

that fucked up girl by @strawberry-skies-xx・dazai & yosano・3.1k, gen, completed・gender study

The first time Dazai meets Yosano, he’s struck with such a strong wave of want that it catches in his throat, clogs it until he can’t speak. It doesn’t happen often. Dazai’s masks are carefully crafted, but Yosano is all sharp femininity, sleek and elegant, graceful in her beauty, and it hits Dazai like a brick. He stares.

i had a dream about you by @neurosasuke・gin & kyouka・5.5k, gen, completed・character study・relationship study

Her fingers clenched around the cone carton in her hand, crushing her precious breakfast into mush. “Senpai,” Kyouka said, her tone flattened by an iron. This couldn’t be happening. Akutagawa Gin met her eyes with an implacable stare. In one hand she held three fabric bags full of fresh produce from the vendors around them, and in the other was a cup of unsweetened milk tea. The pearls rattled as Gin took a long sip from her drink. The duo held eye contact until Gin concluded her task with a noisy smack of her lips. “Izumi,” Gin greeted sweetly, her voice barely able to be heard over the sounds of the early crowd. “Since when did you start shopping here?”

love that doesn’t have a place to rest by @blackwaves・gin-centric・1.9k, gen, completed・beast au gin

There are no good ways to say, I love my brother, and I think he is evil, and no good rooms to say it in.

Or: Gin, after it’s done.

oh, the echoes in my mind— by @nyrlthtp・sigma-centric・2k, gen, completed・sigma character study

It’s a name they’ve taken for themself, but it’s true to who they are now. They don’t remember ever having another name, and they doubt they ever will remember. They dance around questions about their past with an elegant skill that would be impressive to anyone who knew what to look for. Their words don’t falter, and neither do their hands as they deal out cards at tables themself, glossing over their own deep sorrow that’s salved by the casino and the casino alone. One would think they’d been at this casino for their entire life.

bleeding heart dove by @minusboy・skk・4.2k, M, completed・character study・telepathy

He thinks about Chuuya, or rather, he thinks about the god residing under his skin, the manic glint in his eye, head thrown back in laughter, exposing the delicate line of his throat, thinks about gravity twisting his bones into inhuman angles, the blood pouring out of every orifice on his body. He thinks about Chuuya, beautiful, frightening, human.

learning how to let go and how to drive, not necessarily in that order

hold the hand of the god-child, as he falls from the sky by @strawberry-skies-xx・dazai & mori・7k, gen, completed・relationship study

Mori stands up, walking over to see the empty cup of matcha resting on the armrest, curled loosely in one hand, and Dazai sound asleep. He’s so small like this, lost in the big clothing, the couch he’s on. Not for the first time, Mori wonders what he’d do if he wasn’t head of the mafia. If he’d still find Dazai. If he could help him with more than stitches and hot tea.

till death, I’ll give you my breath by @booksandpaperss・skk・24.6k, M, ongoing・time/death loop・relationship study

“Here’s what’s gonna happen,” Chuuya starts, conviction (and probably some desperation) firm in his voice. “Neither of us are gonna leave this damn room. Call in sick, or whatever the fuck I don’t care, but you’re not going into work, or anywhere today. I’ll fucking hold you down just like this if I have to. Got it?” Dazai cocks his head, and Chuuya can tell he’s really trying hard to maintain the bored look on his face. Chuuya’s known Dazai long enough to recognize when he’s curious. “Am I being held hostage by the mafia right now? Is that what’s happening?”

In which Dazai succeeds in the death he’s always longed for, and Chuuya and Atsushi will do whatever it takes to save the man who saved them before they even realized they were being saved. However many times it takes.

A study in loving someone who refuses to be loved.

Last Train Home by @valleykey・sigma-centric・27.1k, gen, completed・character study・post canon

In the Decay’s aftermath, the Port Mafia’s Nakahara Chuuya finds Sigma among the sunlit silvers of Suribachi city. He grins viciously. “In that case, let’s get you your Casino back.”

/// Sigma picks up their pieces.

in the mirror, i bloom by ephemeralis・skk・12k, T, completed・hanahaki au

It twists him, turns him, curls in his chest like something alive, something he knows but can’t dare to name. Chuuya curses the red-black petals that fall from his lips, these nearly rotten things that tear him apart from the inside out. Part of him wants to rip his own traitorous heart out, through a ribcage shattered by feelings he can’t contain. Anger is easy, a thing he’s learned to control. This— whatever the hell this is— is not. Or at least it’s easier to feel as though this is beyond his own control, because Chuuya is not in love. (It feels like a lie even to himself.)

After he’s hit by a strange ability, Chuuya is forced to consider truths he’d much rather keep hidden- but not everything is as simple it seems.

brutal out here! by @valleykey・fyozailai・4.8k, T, completed・suicide practice fic minus actual suicide

“Oh my God,” Nikolai gasps into the phone, because he can’t let there be a pause, because—”you’re killing yourselves and you didn’t even invite me!?” “Not really,” Fyodor says, almost diplomatic, “it’s more like practice.” “Roleplay, if you will,” Dazai adds enthusiastically, from what must be the bathtub, “but like, irl. And with the potential to get rushed to the hospital.”

5D Chess With Multiverse Time Travel by @valleykey・fyozai・7.2k, T, completed・teen fyozai meet for the first time

Chuuya’s self restraint breaks. “What are you even doing?” Dazai doesn’t even spare him a glance. “Playing 5D chess with multiverse time travel against the enemy.” Chuuya squints. He has to be fucking with him. “What?” “And I’m losing, Chuuya,” and now he finally looks at him, manic grin snaking across his cheeks, voice plunging from blank to downright giddy. Giddy. What the fuck. “He’s a demon.”

/// OR: Chuuya finds himself in the unfortunate position of witnessing Dazai meet Fyodor.

abominable by @valleykey・fyodor-centric・5.3k, M, completed・character study

You’re seven when your ability awakens. You calculate how long it’ll be until anyone finds the bodies. You take a shower before the blood dries, change clothes, and don’t sleep the entire night. When the sun rises, you go to church.

///OR: Fyodor, through the years.

some say we’re born into the grave by @obsidianstrawberrymilk・kouyou & kyouka・5.2k, T, completed・idol au・relationship study

“Now, Kyouka? Really? You’re about to be on stage in one of the biggest festivals in the nation and you’re crying about something?” Kyouka debates telling her it had been unintentional, and barely ‘crying’ at all, but decides against it; if anything, talking back makes it worse. Kouyou’s nails dig further into her skin; not enough to bleed and unlikely to bruise, Kyouka knows. Not her face - too valuable. Kyouka can’t say there’s any bitterness there; it’s a fact. Music is what she’s good at, and Kouyou directs where she goes with it. Failure is not an option. Not in this world she’s found herself in.

Or: Kouyou Ozaki is idol Kyouka Izumi’s manager. How Kyouka feels about it isn’t anyone’s concern.

scream into the empty (can anybody hear me?) by @obsidianstrawberrymilk・gin & ryuunosuke・4k, T, completed・selective mutism・character study

Gin never realizes that there’s something wrong with them until age twelve, when their brother joins the Port Mafia, and them alongside him. Suddenly, their silence is not just offhand on the side of useful; it’s noticeable. It’s abnormal. It’s something that makes them a target.

Or: Gin Akutagawa, growing up, and selective mutism.

[bamboozledbird]

HOWLING: TST Rewrite // Chapter 1 / next.

Characters: Thomas, fem!reader, Newt Pairing(s): Thomas x Reader (the slowest of burns) Word Count: 3.2k Tags: Mix of book and movie canon, newt!sister!reader Warnings: Canon typical violence and gore, sad times are ahead my friends

A/N: I honestly do not know where this came from. Mostly from my middle school love of Newt probably. Purely maternal. I thought that boy was gay way before Dashner. So here is newt!sibling!reader, and of course, the angst of being in love with your brother's 'killer' :( I think this will be more like snapshots of instead of a full story, mostly due to my schedule, but I do have a lot of moments in mind.

This place is full of bad omens. Broken mirrors, red skies, night terrors that bleed into daylight. They say you’re safe here, but you felt more at ease inside the Spring’s looming walls than you do in this quiet bunker. The concrete is cold, and the steel surfaces gleam menacingly, even in the dark. You always tuck your fork from lunch into the waistband of your sweats, just in case something jumps out from the other side of the funhouse mirror. 

You count 13 new immunes today. You should’ve known then that there was something wicked brewing in the wind. 

None of them stand out to you at first; they look just as dirty and shell-shocked as all the others did when they first arrived. You’re sure you looked the same on your first day at the compound. 

You poke at your apple with your fork, chin drooping onto your knuckles as your eyes lazily trail over a boy with spiky hair. A few tufts are clumped together with sweat, and he somehow looks unimpressed and exhausted at the same time. Your gaze shifts to a tall girl with messy black curls. Her face is delicate, pretty, even through the dirt and scrapes on her cheeks. She appears to be the only girl in the group—poor thing.

Sighing, you roll the ache out of your neck until it pops, and your eyelids start to wilt with your alertness. New arrivals stopped being exciting after you realized they were all going to disappear, one right after the other. It was just a matter of time. 

Your eyes are almost entirely closed when they land on a boy in the center of the pack. His Henley is torn, soiled like everything else, and his eyes are wide—calculating in the way he studies his surroundings. You don’t know him, and yet you’ve never wanted to strangle someone more. 

It’s striking, the anger, and it suddenly occurs to you that you’ve been angry for so long there might be nothing left in you but this rage. How odd, you think distantly. How odd how something can build in an instant; how you can remember a feeling from a void of nothing. 

You don’t know the why, but you stare at the boy and you know he’s the who. 

You’re on your feet before your brain can catch up to your legs. The boy turns to you, and his mouth parts—most likely to ask why the hell your gaze is so murderous—but you hit him before he can utter a single word. A solid jab to his eye socket that sends a jolt of pain through your thumb to your wrist. The grinding of your snapped bone makes your empty stomach churn, and you feel a little woozy with adrenaline and low blood sugar. 

It’s a good punch, but you’re the one who ends up on the ground. The guard escorting the new group drops you with ease and pins your arms behind your back. A few kids come to the boy’s aid, gripping his shoulder like they’re afraid he’ll jump on you, but he doesn’t look angry. He holds a hand over his eye and stares at you, dumbfounded and confused, but not angry. Somehow, that just makes your scowl even more bitter. 

You’re dragged away from the cluster of new immunes and directly deposited in a sterile examination room before anyone has the chance to say anything. It’s hauntingly silent in the room, and your thin tank top does little against the chill in the room. 

You should be more worried about what your punishment will be—if they’ll send you away to where all the missing children go—but you aren’t. It’s just so…loud inside your mind, a million ravenous locusts buzzing, feasting on your ear canal. You can’t make out what they’re saying, what they’re trying to tell you—what you’re supposed to remember about the boy with the bambi eyes and a dark cloud casting a shadow over his face. 

It’s been a long time since you’ve felt this much. For as long as you can remember, literally, dread consumed every one of your thoughts—no room for things like anger, hate, betrayal. You’re spilling over the missing pieces of yourself WCKD chipped away with their mindwipe. It would be fascinating if it wasn’t so awful.

Anger is a nasty feeling and so is weakness. They're bitter, poisonous, and you're afraid you might leak onto the rest of the kids in the compound. This feeling, this bright burning you’re trying to swallow, it's an epidemic of its own. 

A pair of guards with ridiculously large guns flank a mouse of a woman in a stark white lab coat. They’re there to protect her from you, you realize, and you feel like laughing. Two hulking men equipped with high-powered grenade launchers just in case you try to backhand someone else. They must be bored; there really isn’t much guarding for them to do in the middle of nowhere. 

You watch the doctor examine your thumb with mild interest. You’ve gotten used to the pain, mostly. You curse under your breath when she moves it, and the woman flinches like she’s been struck. You grin a little. You probably shouldn’t be so amused, but it feels kind of nice being on the other end of scary, even if it means being stared at like you’re a wild animal. 

The doctor mumbles something to someone in her earpiece, and they all move to leave. “What—that’s it?” you sit up on the examination chair and hold your injured hand to your chest. No one responds. They leave the room without looking back, and the groan that’s ripped from your throat sounds a lot like a growl. “So, I’m good? Nothing’s broken?” The steel door doesn’t answer your question, but the awkward angle of your thumb certainly does. Evidently, they just need you in one place, not one piece. 

The doctor could be coming back, but you’re impatient by nature; sitting around doing nothing after years of running for your life does that to a person. Besides, you’ve done this before. There were no white coats and examination rooms in the Spring; there were only your hands and a stick to bite on. A broken thumb couldn’t be that different from a dislocated shoulder and a sprained ankle, right? 

There aren’t any sticks in the room, so your shirt will have to do. You bunch the hem into a thick wad and shove it between your molars so that you don’t chip a tooth—and then you pull on your thumb until a sickening pop fills the silence like a gunshot. Your eyes water, and the fabric of your tank top is soaked through by the time you’re certain that you won’t make any noise. You release the material from your mouth and examine your work; the digit is certainly straighter, but the color and swelling are decidedly nasty. 

The whoosh of a door sliding open distracts you from bluing skin, and, for the second time today, you see a stranger and feel an overwhelming wave of familiarity. This time, however, it’s warm. You stare at him and feel the strangest urge to ruffle his floppy hair and crush him into your arms so that he can’t slip away from you. Again. The foreign thought strikes you in the heart, and it hurts. 

He sits down next to you, limbs loose and lax, and his head crooks down like a swan to examine your bloated thumb, “That doesn’t look too good.” 

“I haven’t ever punched someone before,” you mumble and lift a shoulder, “guess my form isn’t the best.”

Humming, he cradles your injured hand in his palm like a baby bird and looks around the room, “All this tech, and they don’t have a single bandage.” 

Your teeth catch against your bottom lip, and the constant gnawing starts to hurt almost as badly as your thumb, “Or the good drugs.”

He smiles at you, lopsided and familiar, and you feel like you’re home. “Surely they have some ice somewhere.”

It finally registers that he sounds different than the rest. You suppose that’s probably the first thing most people notice about him, but it’s a distant thought for you. You sound different too, after all. Your cadence isn’t quite as thick as his. You probably sounded more like him before your strong-voweled, mush-mouthed friends infected your inflection. You wish, strangely, that they hadn’t now.  

The corner of your mouth ticks up, “And to think, I never wanted to see another speck of ice again.”

He looks equally confused and amused. 

“Our maze,” you wave your good hand in the air, pulling a face as the phantom frost creeps up your spine, “it snowed all the damn time. Hated it.”

He lets out a low whistle, “I suppose sweating is better than freezing in hindsight.”

You give him the same look, and his face twists in a grimace that rivals your own, “The Glade was sweltering. Dreadful really, almost worse than the Grievers.”

“I imagine.” You nod sagely, face solemn, “All those boys and such a limited supply of soap.”

The boy’s head cocks back with his laugh, and it’s so heart-wrenchingly familiar you could cry. You really could. At least, you can blame any bizarre behavior on your broken thumb. 

“So,” he tilts his head, “Tommy.”

Your face wrinkles in confusion, and he nods towards your injured hand. Ah. So, the black eye had a name. 

“Tommy,” you repeat, far more glumly.

He smiles a little crooked thing, “I know he can be a pesky little shank, but thirty seconds hardly seems like a fair shot.”

“I don’t know what happened,” you say quietly, keeping your eyes on your lap and the ballooned, bruised proof of your guilt. “I saw him, and then everything went red.”

He hums softly in his throat, “Think you knew each other?”

“I don’t know.” Your cheek takes the brunt of your teeth’s abuse this time, “I don’t think I want to.” 

“Whoever he was before, whatever he did…he’s not the same,” he catches your eye, and the flash of hickory feels like an echo, “none of us are.”

You swallow and nod stiffly. He’s right. You know he’s right, but there’s still a little irrational twinge of anger when burnt umber clouds the back of your lids. “Why are you here,” you finally say. Your voice is small, like a lost little girl, and his arm wraps around your shoulders in an easy, fluid motion. You sink into it, still feeling small, but it’s not so terrible now. He’s a comforting weight, a shield you turn into reflexively. “I socked your friend in the eye,” you mumble towards your lap, “think that entitles you to a little hostility.” 

He laughs again, and his chest rumbles with it, “I can’t quite blame you. I’ve wanted to do it a time or two before.”

“Hmm.” You’re unconvinced, and he tugs on your hair a little. 

“Come on, let’s get you that ice.”

You follow him, your hand in his, and feel a little dizzy. There’s a hazy scene layered over the present. A much smaller boy flickers over his long frame; they have the same sandy hair, the same sweet smile. The little boy tugs at your arm, pulling you down the dark hall of a different facility, just as cold. Just as scary. The concrete walls don't loom so largely in your peripherals when he clutches your hand. 

It feels like a fever dream, that place between consciousness and sleep, the lingering brightness when you squeeze your eyes shut—so real for something cloaked in so many shadows. 

There are two faces looking back at you when he turns over his shoulder, the soft cheeks of a child overlapping with the hard lines of a young man. “Newt.”

It’s an odd thing to say, seemingly unrelated to anything around you, but somehow you know that’s his name. You give your own without a moment of hesitation.

Newt looks at you, still and sure, “Had a feeling.”

**************

One bag of ice and lengthy lecture later, you figure you should find Thomas and apologize—for Newt’s sake, not his and certainly not WCKD’S. You eventually find him sitting on a bunk. His face is clean, and his hair is wet, curling at the nape of his neck and over his forehead. Without all the dirt and blood, the purple under his eyes is stark against his pale skin. He looks like he hasn’t slept since he was dropped in his maze, maybe even longer.

You feel a little guilty when you see his black eye.

His head tips up from his hands when you step into the room, and his shoulders immediately tense. You hold up your hands and lean against the opposite wall, as far away from him as you possibly can be in the same room. “I’m not gonna hit you. Promise.”

His shoulders don’t relax, but his fingers uncurl and fall flat against his thighs. His jaw is tight, and you can’t help but notice how it sharpens all the lines of his face. He looks like he’s made of granite, a sculpture from a different time, a time before all this ugliness. There isn’t a lot of room for art in this place, this world; beautiful things don’t last long in the Maze, the Scorch, a society rotten with the Flare—but he has. You hate to admit it, but Thomas is striking. The bruising just makes him look more like a Greek antiquity, a tragic hero with a pretty face.

Thomas looks restless, looking at a spot on the wall just left of your head, and you realize that you’ve been staring for too long. Gritting your teeth, you glance at him and then look down at your shoes, “I’m…I probably shouldn’t have hit you.”

Thomas blinks at you, eyes big and brown…and bruised. You wince a little and fold your arms over your chest, shrinking into the wall, “I definitely shouldn’t have. Sorry.” There’s a part of you, one you don’t understand, that thinks this is more than he deserves. Another part wonders how the hell that’s possible.

He lifts a shoulder and looks to your right now. You aren’t sure if that means he’s forgiven you. You aren’t even sure if he heard you. He looks like he’s in another dimension, a glaze of isolation. You wonder where he’s gone; if it’s nicer there than it is here, or if it’s a bad place. A night terror leaking through the cracks.

Thomas licks his lip and finally looks at you. His face is grim, somber, like you’re visiting your own wake. “I saw you,” his voice is scratchy when he speaks. You’re curious if it’s from disuse or too much use. You’re curious about a lot of things; what exactly is this boy like? This boy who introduced you to the sin of wrath. 

You lick over your teeth and push yourself off the wall, “I figured.” He watches you cautiously until you sit down on the bunk across from him. “Question is, can you still see me?” You hold up three fingers to his swollen eye and hum, “How many?” 

His face remains solemn, not even a hint of a smile, and you sigh, “So you saw me?”

He nods and digs his elbows into his thighs, “In a memory.”

That gets your attention. “You remember things?”

Thomas gestures to his purpling eye, “Don’t you?”

“Feelings,” you pull your knees to your chest tightly, nosing into your kneecap, “just feelings. Not all the time, but sometimes I get that annoying itch you get when you can’t think of the name of a book, but you know you know it.”

He nods, “I get those too; this was different.” He pauses, and presses his tongue to the roof of his mouth like he’s waiting for the right words to roll onto the tip. He doesn’t look entirely content when he speaks again, but his struggle is valiant, “Griever venom...it made me see things—memories, like…a movie I’ve seen before, but I forgot the ending."

Your brow pinches, “Griever?”

Thomas hums a little, “WCKD’s cyborg guardspiders.”

Ah. You pick at some lint on your sweats, and a kittenish whine vibrates through your throat, “Lucky.” He tilts his head and studies you so seriously that a small grin slips through your stoic exterior, “Ours had wings.”

There’s a ghost of a smile on Thomas’s face, and it’s nice enough you’re curious what a real one would look like. It fades once he starts talking again, “I know why you hit me. The mazes…they were mine—that’s what I saw. I watched so many of them…” His eyes fade, and you know he’s in the bad place. The place you go when you think about that day. The day half your friends were ripped apart by WCKD’s pets. 

Clearing your throat, you pull him back to the present with a quiet voice, "And then you saw me.”

He nods, and his throat bobs as he swallows, “And then I saw you.” 

The corner of your mouth tugs into a sad little smile, and his responds in kind. “I think I knew you.” Thomas chews on his lip and picks at his nails, doing his best to tear himself apart, “Not well…you were in a different group, but I knew you…because of Newt.”

Your eyes widen, “Newt?”

“I think…he was your brother—is, is your brother. You were close. Like twins.”

The fever dream is back. There’s sun-drenched flashes of a boy reading to you, pelting you with snowballs and laughing, eyes bright, nose pink. They’re too bright to see everything clearly, but it’s enough to wind you. 

Your eyes flutter open, and you see that Thomas is watching you carefully. Concerned. Odd, considering you broke your thumb against his face a few hours ago. “It could be a plant. Who knows what they put in our heads when they took everything away.”

Thomas tilts his head and then shakes it, “This is a good thing. WCKD doesn’t give us good things.”

Your eyes burn, and you aren’t quite sure why. “Is it?”

Thomas looks confused. It’s a common expression on the munies, confusion. Tends to happen when you don’t know who you are or where you came from. For some reason, it makes you sadder than it usually does.

“Come on,” you curl in on yourself, squeeze your shins tightly and peek at him over your knees, “why’d you tell me before you told your best friend?” 

Thomas looks down at his hands. Caught.  

You answer for him, “You and I both know the last thing that kid needs is one more person he’d die for.”

The solemn look is back on Thomas’s face, and you sigh, “You want me to trust you?”

He nods sharply.

“Don’t tell him. Don’t tell anyone.”

[twasmayfield]

still.

description: years later after a summer trip with her father that became fading memories, fernando alonso's daughter stumbles across a camcorder and reflects on the rare time spent with her father as she tries to reconcile the father she knew with the man she didn't.

warnings: major character death (off screen, not mentioned), loosely based off of ‘aftersun (2022)’, mostly me forgetting how eleven year olds work, afab and daughter!reader, fernando might be a little ooc, title's from a noah kahan song, lmk if i forgot anything else.

a/n: idk man, this au was stuck in my head sigh

She found the old shoebox back in March when she dug through her closet, trying to find a presentable dress to wear to an event. The box was shoved all the way in the back of the closet on the floor, looking worn and almost cold to the touch. Of course, it was long forgotten after a long night of drinking expensive champagne and schmoozing with her friends. And she didn’t stumble upon it again until late September when she was stuffing her old clothes into boxes to donate.

She pulled the box out, letting out a small huff of amusement as she dug through it. The box was full of old photographs from when she was younger. A couple snapshots featuring her parents being in love, her mother looking pretty in the sunlight, and one or two pictures of her and her father at his races. She paused, staring down at the pictures; a bittersweet feeling clawing at her chest. She grabbed the old camcorder, riffling through the box for the charger before she plugged it into an outlet, waiting for it to be charged.

Her memories of him were few and far—snippets of his smile and face long forgotten, slipping and fading away into the back of her mind—only actually being encapsulated in news articles and old race clips spread out across the internet. She thought it wasn’t fair how she couldn’t seem to remember what he used to have for breakfast, yet the strangers online knew about him more than she ever did and will.

The video is grainy now—not like the clear footage she remembered so vividly when she was younger. Now she’s the same age as he was in the video; maybe even older by a few years. She stared at the screen, her eyes studying the way his face looked in the video; the way the corners of his eyes crinkled when he laughed—the sound of his laughter quiet and faint in her ears without her ever needing to play it.

The Mediterranean sun was blinding, casting golden light over the quiet resort town.

On the balcony of a small, seaside hotel, Fernando Alonso stood by the railing, sunglasses perched on his nose, and a cigarette lazily held between his two fingers. He watched the world in easy silence, the waves lapping at the shore, the distant hum of laughter and clinking glasses from the bar below.

Inside, his daughter unboxed a new camcorder he had bought for her. She read through the instructions before turning it on, adjusting it on a stack of books. The red recording light flickered on, causing her to let out a squeal of excitement that caught her father’s attention.

“Ladies and gentleman, my father, the amazing, wondrous, one armed Fernando Alonso Díaz.” She giggled as she held the camcorder in her hands, zooming into his face; his features on display in the little screen. “Papá, say something.”

Fernando glanced at her, a smirk tugging at his lips. “What do you want me to say?”

She rolled her eyes. “I don’t know, something wise.”

He exhaled slowly, flicking ash over the railing. “Life is like a race. Everyone tells you to go faster, but sometimes… you should just enjoy the track.”

She snorted. “That was awful.”

But she’s smiling.

And for now, that’s enough.

The air was hot and humid—the clothes on her back sticking to her skin as she kicked the water in the pool, fidgeting with the camcorder she held in her hands. A few minutes ago, the eleven year old girl sat on one of the plastic lounge chairs the hotel provided, and watched as her father applied sunscreen to her arms. “I can do it myself!” She told him with a determined nod, but held her arm out anyway as her papá smiled and managed with one arm—the other in a cast due to a crash during a recent race.

The trip to the seaside was a well needed vacation after the grueling season he had so far, and she was just happy to spend time with him. He looked tired and worn down, but she chalked it up to the season taking a toll on him—that’s why they were on vacation, he needed a break. The hotel wasn’t fancy, the town was quiet, and Fernando seemed happy enough, but there’s something off. A feeling she couldn’t quite place at the time.

He’s quiet—distant even—a faraway look evident in his eyes as he watched her kick and splash water; her small hands steady and careful as she toyed with the camcorder. “Papá!” The girl called out to him, craning her body back to film him. She watched him wave through the tiny screen, his movements slowed by a millisecond. Fernando laughed as he waved, leaning back in his chair, sunglasses on, always watching. “Be careful, cariño, it was expensive.” 

“Okay!”

The father and daughter walked down a street market full of bustling vendors and wandering tourists. She walked closely beside him as she peered at each stall, noticing one that laid out an assortment of jewelry. Fernando noticed her gaze and mussed her hair as she protested and tried to fix it, causing him to laugh. “I’ll get it for you, chiquita,” he said, and watched her smile, baring her teeth as she did. She giggled as he tied the bracelet on her wrist, helping him when he couldn’t pull the strings with one hand.

She fidgeted with the bracelet, the payphone’s receiver pressed between her shoulder and ear as she listened to her mother’s voice on the other side. “The hotel’s alright. Well, we’re not actually at our hotel. It doesn’t have a phone. But yeah.” She paused, looking out the booth’s window, and seeing her father talking to a stranger, a half hearted smile plastered on his face as he listened to whatever the man was saying. “Papá? Yeah, he’s fine—just talking to someone,” she pushed the door open with her foot, hand covering the receiver as she called to him. “Mamá wants to talk to you.”

Fernando bid his goodbye to the man, giving her an easy smile as he took the receiver from her hands and held it up to his ear. She skipped out of the booth, looking around her surroundings to pass the time, knowing that her parents were going to be on call longer. She waited, almost close to pressing her cheek to the booth window to get his attention. And the call ended. She heard them exchange ‘I love you’s,’ and a smile found itself on her face before he hung up, setting the receiver back on the hook.

She sat on a chair, her legs swinging off it as she watched her father shoot pool. Hunched down on the pool table, he carefully studied the sequence, trying to find the perfect moment to strike. “Can you teach me?” She asked, curious. He looked back up, straightening his back as he held the cue stick, looking at her with an amused smile on his face. “Sure,” he waved her over and she jumped off the chair in excitement.

“Mi vida,” he called her and pulled her into his side, her cheek getting squished. He handed her the cue stick, telling her to point it carefully.

The evening sun settled, streaks of orange and pink meshed together with the incoming night sky. Her small hand reached for his, settling in it as they walked along the shore together. The sand no longer felt hot underneath her, it was bearable. She talked his ear off about how she was excited to go back to school, how she was going to make lots of friends, and how she hoped her mother would let her attend his races. Fernando simply listened, squeezing her hand with a small smile. She grinned up at him at that.

The waves crashed against the shore as birds flew overhead. This was perfect. She watched as a few people passed by them. “Will we come back next summer?” She asked quietly, her small body wrapped in a beach towel, her hair wet. She glanced up at the sunny sky, imagining different animals in the clouds, and Fernando paused just a little too long before saying, “Of course.”

On the last night of their trip, they danced at a small, open-air club. She watched in embarrassment and amusement as he started dancing, his arm out and beckoned her to join him on the floor with the others. She isn’t much of a dancer, but she tried anyway. She laughed, he smiled. Someone took a picture of them together, their happiness frozen on a piece of film. It was perfect.

The night was always quiet. The distant humming of motorcycles and cars faded as the sky darkened and the stars lit up. She woke up in the middle of the night, her father not in the room. Her eyes adjusted to the dimness of the room. The balcony let the light of the moon in, illuminating shadows on the room’s floor. She could barely see out due to the doors, but she knew he was there. Knew he was standing outside with his elbows pressed to the metal railing as a lit cigarette found itself between his lips. He was quiet, just thinking. She didn’t know what thoughts swirled around in his mind. She wanted to ask if he’s okay. She doesn’t. And she wished she did.

In the morning, they found themselves back at the airport—their trip ending right before her eyes. She didn’t want it to end, wanting to spend time with him longer. One week wasn’t enough, but she swallowed her protests down.

"I love you, you know?" She nodded. She wished she had said it back. Fernando hugged her, tighter than they both expected. She gave him a smile when he released her from his grip, pulling at the strap of her backpack. He ran a hand through her hair and pressed a kiss to her forehead before patting her shoulder and gave it a small squeeze. She waved him goodbye as the flight attendant softly ushered her from him with a smile. She looked back and he’s there, a distant look in his face as if he was memorizing and committing this moment in his mind.

She is eleven again. He is still standing at the airport gate, watching her go.

[mad-hunts]

[ TRANSCRIPTION: I don't understand I don't understand I don't understand Why did you leave me, Marcy? We were supposed to be together forever. Is it true that you're an angel now? ]

[slenderfire-blog]

New fic: Under his carpet

Under his carpet: Linda Eastman McCartney reflects on the ups and downs her marriage to Paul in a series of snapshots between 1968 and 1990. Chapter 1 of 5 posted.

Plinda fans/Paul superfans dni (JOKING! No sugarcoating, but not a hatchet job on either. Most of it is based on fact, but plenty is invented - speculative fiction an' all that.)

While not shying away from the darker sides of the marriage, this story is primarily intended as a character study about flawed individuals, none of whom are villains. It also explores the tension between visually appearing liberated, as many Boomer women did, and the reality of their domestic lives. A tension which is still relevant today.

[sl-vega]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ I DON'T KNOW MUCH, BUT I KNOW I WANT YOU

pairing: Hiori Yo x [FEM!] Reader

genre: fluff, first crush, oneshot/drabble, hiori character study if you squint, classmates to lovers, pre-bluelock au, canon compliant

synopsis: hiori knows something is wrong with him when he can't focus during practice, or during games, or during anything really. he initially pins the blame on you, you're the only thing occupying his mind whenever he tries to do anything. karasu says hiori's got it bad (aka he's in love) but there's no way, ...right? (or in which our cyan haired prodigy tries to figure out his very obvious feelings for you, and karasu teases him like the amazing friend he is)

CW: mild language, potentially ooc hiori and karasu, mentions of toxic/controlling parents (I mean it's hiori what do you expect?) 

part one // part two // part three

The whistle sounded, and the match came to an end, and Bambi Osaka Youth had...

Lost actually.

Normally Hiori would've been worried about his parents' reaction. How they would make sure he got even more practice than usual, and how his mother would put him on another excessive and controlling diet.

Normally Hiori would be dreading the walk back home, already feeling the disappointment radiating off of his father, even if they weren't present at the match itself. The fear that maybe today would be that day that his parents would stop loving him, the day where his facade would finally shatter. The day that he would finally fall off the thin tight rope that he had been clinging to his whole life.

But today, his thoughts were anything but normal.

The only thing plaguing his mind was you, some pretty girl that became his seatmate in school a few weeks ago.

He spotted you before heading to the change rooms with the rest of his teammates today, and his mind reverted to the dumb fantasies he always got whenever your were around.

They usually consisted of him holding your hand, giving you your favorite flowers, or sometimes they were just snapshots of you.

Your smile, your voice, anything and everything about you drove him crazy.

Not that he would ever admit it.

Hiori's developed a sixth sense to your presence, even during the short time that's he's known you. He doesn't know why, nor does he know the name of the feeling that makes his heart jump to his throat whenever he hears your laugh, but he's always certain whenever you're nearby.

He decided to risk a glance, and lo and behold, there you were, chatting with a friend about something. Your face lit up at something that she said, and you playfully swatted her arm in retaliation to something.

"It's rude ta' stare ya' know."

With a mere brush of shoulders, Hiori's attention was drawn away from you, and to his raven haired teammate instead. Karasu leans forward to get a better look at you, quickly analyzing your behaviour and mannerisms before turning back to his teammate.

"So that why you've been so distracted lately."

Karasu looked at Hiori with that shit-eating grin of his. That same face he always makes whenever he sees right through him. It was almost concerning how well his upperclassman seemed to know him.

"If ya' like her so much, you should just talk to her."

"I- I don't like her."

"Those starry eyes of yers' say otherwise."

Hiori looked away and tried his best to hide the red hue that spreads across his face. Of course there was no point in doing so since he was dealing with the ever-so-lovely Karasu Tabito, but he didn't need his teammates calling him out.

Not yet at least, he didn't even know what was going on in his own head, or heart for that matter.

Their coach called them over, everyone was about to be granted leave, the two of them walked over and positioned themselves next to the rest of the team, and coach went on about how they shouldn't slack off during practice or somethin'

Not that Hiori could care, seeing as how you were only a few meters away from him, some cheaply painted fence being the only thing standing in between the two of you.

Coach kept lecturing and scolding them, but Hiori's gaze kept wandering back to you.

Why were you here? Were you watching the game? Were you watching him? Did you like soccer? Had you watched his other games before? If you did, how has he not noticed yet? Maybe one of his teammates knew you personally. Wait- what if you were dating someone on the team?-

Hiori doesn't know why, but the thought of you being taken gives him a sinking feeling.

Suddenly he felt a blunt kick against his ankle. It's Karasu, of course.

"What the fu-"

"Not my fault yer' too busy ogling at her to concentrate, consider this a favour."

The older boy quickly cut him off before any crass language could fall from his lips, and Hiori's focus returned to whatever their coach was saying, but his superior's words simply entered one ear and exited the other.

His mind was still filled with thoughts of you, and only you, and when he saw you leave with your friend from the corner of his eye, he felt that same sinking feeling again.

When their coach finally dismissed them, Hiori was tempted to try and catch up with you, but he doesn't dare, Bambi Osaka lost, which was already enough to get a scolding from his parents, but coming home late? 'Cuz of a girl no less?

Yeah, he wasn't that reckless, even when it came to you

Though that same sinking feeling returns when he saw your figure slowly leave his vision, already missing your presence.

Apparently his gloom was evident, because the second he returned his focus back to his teammates once more, he was met with Karasu and that God forsaken look of his.

It was still incredibly concerning of how easy it was for his senior to pick him apart with a simple glance.

"She's gonna think yer' some creep if ya' keep staring at 'er like that."

"Shut up ya' stupid crow."

Karasu took a few steps forward, but slowed down his pace because he was waiting for Hiori to follow him. He had actually gotten the approval of his parents to take the train back home with Karasu. Hiori didn't know how, but he wasn't complaining.

The younger boy followed him, as they walked off the field with the rest of their team.

Everyone exchanged farewells before dispersing into their own groups, some walking home and others heading to a local convenience store or cafe to wind down.

And that left Hiori and Karasu to walk to the station, Karasu leading the way, and Hiori following him like a puppy.

The walk was silent for quite some time, the only prominent view being Karasu's back facing towards him.

Of course, Karasu couldn't keep that big mouth of his shut, and it seemed like today was no different.

"So what's she like?"

"What do ya mean?"

Karasu rolled his eyes and gave him an unimpressed look.

"That girl."

Hiori paused for a second, he actually didn't know that much about you, he thought you were really nice, and pretty, and you always lent him your stationary, even though you forgot it on some days. You even let him keep a turquoise glitter gel pen of yours since he seemed to like writing with them so much.

"It matches your eyes."

He distinctly remembers your words from a couple weeks ago, when your hands brushed as you gave him the pen, and the way you smiled when you pulled it out of your pencil case. The pen's ink was halfway finished but there was still a substantial amount left.

"Lemme know if you need another!"

He wouldn't admit it but he exclusively used that pen for all his assignments from that day forward.

Suddenly he heard Karasu clear his throat, snapping him out of his daydreams and back to reality.

"Uh, she's..."

Hiori paused once more, trying to think of a word that could actually do you justice.

"....nice?"

"So ya don't know anything about 'er other than the fact that yer' whipped for 'er?"

He was taken aback by the blunt statement, but it was true, other than the fact that he knew that you were nice, he didn't know much else about you.

"Must be one hell of a gal if she can get the attention of our local prodigy without tryin'"

Hiori playfully swatted his shoulder.

"I told ya not to call me that! But yeah, she is."

Maybe Hiori didn't know much about romance, or about you, but there was one thing he knew for sure.

If it came to you, he was willing to change that.

[critterbitter]

Do you think you'll draw the nimbasa trio catching their first Pokemon that's not their starter on their journey?

Definitely! It’s just a matter of getting there, haha. I am but one vaguely man shaped blob with a hyperfixation. Mortal needs like sleep and hand pains stop me from vomiting every brain idea I have.

I actually got this question multiple times, so to answer! I am not going to be drawing the nimbasa trio getting another pokemon until their late teens unless a brainworm strikes. (So no new pokemon during the current snapshot series haha.)

Why?

From a canon perspective, well:

Most npc trainers you meet on route have 2-4 pokemon, so I’m gonna try to keep within that amount until the trio settles in Nimbasa and have the revenue/space to upkeep a full pokemon team.

From a meta perspective, wellllll:

Another caught pokemon means character development, and I, ah... right now, I just wanna draw a candle, a zebra, and an eel. I love painting. But fitting seven or more characters on a canvas is, er… Make me draw more guys and I’ll melt like a vanniluxe on a summer day.

If people are curious for some pokemon headcannons though (note that this is not canon— pokemon gave me a puddle of information, so I’m taking the shovel to dig an ocean.)

- ingo saw a colony of dwebble collecting rocks while in the desert, and he’s been enamored ever since. He’s been trying to convince a dwebble to join his team for a while. Unfortunately, Ingo’s very excited and dwebble are naturally shy. (It doesn’t help that litwick can get mean when jealous.)

- emmet loves double battles and teams up with a lot of wild pokemon— but he doesn’t click with anybody until much further in the future. Me thinks his expectations are a tad too high from having such a good start with tynamo. He’s worked with multiple growlithes and thinks Helping Hand is the coolest shit ever.

- emmet’s first “caught” pokemon would be archen. More like “lab grown” and “lovingly hatched”, but it’s the thought that counts. Thinking once again about squab archen…

- elesa found her two emolga in the trash. She was going to release them after fostering, but got attached.

For future plans:

(The pokemon the twins live with and are officially part of the team (named at what stage the twins meet them! Note that everybody becomes fully evolved at somepoint.)

Ingo— litwick, dwebble, drillbur, and axew.

Emmet— tynamo, archen(lint roller), joltik, and durant.

They also have pokemon coworkers that don’t live with them, but agree to help in battles for exp and wages— kliklank twins, garbadore, shelmet and karablast, boldore (atlas), and gurdur)

And for our favorite electric gym leader:

Elesa— blitzle, the emolga twins (em and molga), stunfisk, mareep

(She has pokemon coworkers Eelektross (eela), zebrastrika (motorbreak), and Galvulanta (Lanta) who have a similar set up to the twins— the pokemon agree to work with Elesa for exp and wages, but otherwise have their own lives.)

(Fun headcanon: pokemon who are raised by humans tend to keep human nicknames. It’s not always the case, but it’s a common enough trend for research studies.)

[bakibakideemon]

I’m back to into Haikyuu!! And before I say anything - I absolutely adore Kageyama. It’s been a minute that have thought about his character/ discussed him. But recently came across some really great character studies of him.

Here is a list of Fics I read recently which I fell do his character justice (and just because I like them). (These are amazing fics by some great authors)

1) The best thing you (n)ever had by eleasofia

Summary: When Oikawa is asked out by Kageyama for the first time, he turns him down, saying he wouldn't date someone who is so clearly inferior to him. Three years later, after Seijou's loss to Karasuno, Kageyama asks again, and despite not really (read as: absolutely not) wanting to, Oikawa somehow ends up agreeing nevertheless. It might really be time to forget about old grudges and move on. Turns out, it's even harder than he thought it would be.

Published: 2017-12-05 Words: 6,425 Chapters: 1/1

2) Normal by AuthorInDistress

Published: 2018-10-15 Words: 5,031 Chapters: 1/1

Summary: A special guest is here in Kageyama's town and he couldn't care less.

3) I don’t know where we’re going, but I’d like to be by your side by voices_in_my_head

Published: 2020-08-03 Words: 8,548 Chapters: 1/1

Summary: "Atsumu doesn’t approach Kageyama Tobio the first day of the youth training camp, but he does keep an eye on him. He’s not the only one; everyone is curious about the main setter of the team that finally uncrowned Shiratorizawa."

Or: once Atsumu got to meet the real Kageyama, he never stood a chance. Honestly, he's not that bothered about it.

4) With all my love (And almost all of my mind) by rumxrs

Kei heaves a sigh, raking a hand through his short blonde curls. Tobio repeats the action unknowingly, and shivers shortly afterwards. A nervous shiver, like death was sending spearmint puffs of air down his neck.

Their story; told in snapshots, phone conversations, and dreams.

Published: 2016-03-29 Words: 2,175 Chapters: 1/1

5) Make It True, Takeru by luvtooru

Summary: After overhearing his uncle Oikawa mention he had a crush on someone with 'black hair and blue eyes,' Takeru assumes he’s talking about Kageyama, the grumpy setter from Karasuno. Unaware that Oikawa actually meant Shimizu-san, Takeru dives headfirst into a chaotic mission to play matchmaker—for the wrong person

Published: 2024-11-10 Words: 7,969 Chapters: 1/1

6) can this be a real thing (can it?) by akaashism (acciomerlin)

Summary: Tobio has an unexpectedly steamy dream about Oikawa one night. He tries his best to grapple with the resulting cocktail of feelings it invokes, but maybe an accidental revelation has its own set of rewards in store.

Published: 2023-06-20 Words: 10,712 Chapters: 2/2

7) What do you see when you look at me? By Aync1lgw

Summary: Three people - A woman who has been pining after Oikawa for years and finally wants to confess her feelings, a taxi driver who just happened to pick Oikawa and Kageyama up from the bar and then Oikawa's old roommate from medical school with whom Oikawa was sharing a rental apartment for the week. What is it that these people see when they look at Oikawa Tooru and Kageyama Tobio together?

Published: 2021-11-24 Words: 5,739 Chapters: 1/1

8) infernal devices by lettucehope

Summary: In a quest for revenge, Tobio learns that store-bought flames work just fine when you're summoning the powers of Hell.

Published: 2022-07-02 Words: 26,886 Chapters: 8/8

9) Cute bastard by mitoe

Summary: Oikawa calls Kageyama cute bastard every time he sees him and Kageyama hates it

Published: 2022-05-03 Words: 4,254 Chapters: 1/1

11)

10)

[a-collection-of-cool-ideas]

Thank you wonderful fanfiction authors! You do a great part to make life wonderful. Recs below the cut (I CANNOT believe I haven't rec'ed some of these before!) Previous recs: 2018, 2020, 2022. Looks like I only do these every two years lol.

Gravity Falls

Feels Like We Only Go Backwards, by @dubsdeedubs / WDW; complete multichapter. A heartbreaking concept with a happy ending. Sad but wonderful and a really fun idea. Working out just what is happening is a great challenge, and watching the pieces fall into place with mounting consternation is awesome.

In Search of Antidotes, by @astriiformes / azhdarchidaen; complete multichapter. An awesome Historical AU, and neither Ford nor Stan go through the portal (there’s still suffering though). Bit of freakiness, bit of funniness, bit of stubbornness, bit of coolness. A very cool read! A much more classic demon-possession story than canon with its modern sci-fi overtones. The gothic sci-fi horror takes the floor here. Jekyll and Hyde, Frankenstein, Dracula, it takes inspiration from all the best roots!

Just a Game, by @nikxation / nikxation; one-shot. Intense! High stakes! Well-written! Doesn’t mess around getting to the point, and hammers its beats into you! LOVE it! Bill holds a gun on Ford, while in Ford's own body. The tension in this is unbelievable!

An Outreached Hand, by @dubsdeedubs / WDW; incomplete multichapter. Something freakishly supernatural happened to Stan during his homeless days. It’s called Ghost Trick AU, and it’s super interesting and utterly engaging! It’ll have you tearing through it wanting to know what the heck is going on! The characters are all so intense in their own ways, and the plot is drip fed to you piece by delicious piece.

Snapshots from an Alternate Reality, by Rethira; one-shot. PORTAL STAN!! Just a short little one-shot about this alternate version of events, but incredibly cool to read. Love the writing style: it takes you through the scenes like a skipping stone, its wake mesmerising.

All Things Go, by @cantica10 / Cantica10; incomplete multichapter. A weird (in the best way) idea of a crossover between Timestuck AU (where Mabel is trapped in the past) and a Wings AU (where, you guessed it, everyone has wings). Adorable Stan and Mabel bonding, but is SO not afraid to get really dark. That being said, it’s also so sweet and fluffy, and explores the effortless love that Mabel feels for Stan, and that (broken, scared, young, sad) Stan feels for her. This is one of those fics I am compelled to keep coming back to. It’s such a full experience to read.

Snow and Pine, by @ancientstone / TheArchaeologist; incomplete series. A great concept!! Loved the idea of these two brothers being forced together by circumstances instead of intention. Some great selective description here, and the plot itself is a very fun ride. WERE. WOLF. STAN. Need I say more?

Lighthouse Keeper, by @impishnature / impish_nature; incomplete series. There’s a lot to this story; the main work is mostly a series of one-shots, with other works sprinkled between. The idea is so eerie and haunting, and the vibes are pretty different to most other things I’ve read. The instigating artwork by @sightkeeper is magnificent and Imp has managed to capture the images very well!

Triptych, by @scribefindegil / scribefindegil; one-shot. A very cool character study on Stan. Great for informing his central motivations. It's kept short and sweet, but the analysis is no less thorough for it. I loved the insight into my favourite character's life and mind. Scribe writes him so well.

Blind Faith, by pinesinthewoods; complete multichapter. Come on, how could I NOT mention this one? It's one of the many here I'm astonished not to have rec'ed earlier. Super dark, super scary, an AU where both Stan and Ford fall into the portal. Ouch, but cool. Really good, but be prepared to yell out loud in horror. This is a doozy, don’t expect a lot of happy feels going into it. That being said, it is INCREDIBLE. The structure of the story is fantastic, perfectly encapsulating the reliance each of the brothers’ needs to have on the other and how one has to step up when the other can’t. Stan and Ford are forcibly tied together in this, and they find they each mean more to the other than expected after ten years of bitterness and radio silence. A STAPLE of Gravity Falls fics.

Like They Were a Perfect Fit, by @sensitiveowl / hapful; one-shot. Aw, ow, cries. Love! Lots of tangled-up emotions and scenes that will tug at your heartstrings thinking about Ford’s life journey. Speculations on the importance of the photo that Ford is implied to have carried around with him for 30 damn years.

30 Seconds Later, by @invisibletinkerer / shayera; incomplete multichapter. Loved this to death! A really great concept executed fantastically. An AU where while it took Stan thirty years to rebuild the portal, Ford was only gone for thirty seconds. The characterisation of paranoid Ford and his interactions with the rest of his family are perfect, as is his reaction to finding himself in the future and his relationship to Stan. And Stan is wonderful in this too! A very good examination of age, aging, and the associated changes in perspective.

1 Step Forward, 20 Years Back, by @infriga / Ppleater; complete multichapter. An AU where Stan is turned into a kid in the midst of Ford’s pre-portal paranoia over Bill. It adopts the wonder and innocence that comes with youth, but still retains the darkness of Stan’s adulthood - wait, actually, his entire life has been kinda dark in this fic. This is one of those fics you can tell the author had a lot of fun with. It’s palpable in the chapter titles and the art :) The illustrations are beautiful, the story is heartfelt, and it is not at all afraid to go into some dark places. A very enjoyable, loveable, read!

The Road in Front of You, by @nicnacsnonsense / Nicnac; complete multichapter. Ford falls through a portal potty and gets dumped in Stan's path. MAN!!! This fic has a really great concept, and Nicnac’s writing is impeccable as always. A great look at Ford and Stan’s relationship post-high school, how their personalities have developed and changed, and most importantly how they reconcile the changes in each other.

Nothing a Little Sleep Can’t Fix, by AkitaFallow; one-shot. Oh MAN. WOW. Okay. A heavier look on the mark Sock Opera leaves on Dipper, featuring repercussions throughout the rest of Dipper’s summer. Absolutely, heartbreakingly, entrancing. The slow build up of the plot perfectly mimics the rising emotions that poor Dipper is struggling to keep a lid on until they inevitably explode, and watching the people who love him pick up his pieces afterwards is just golden.

Ad Infinitum, by @nicnacsnonsense / Nicnac; one-shot. My first read of the Same Coin Theory and it was awesooooooooome!!! There are so many repetitions of phrases that spark in my mind because of how great they were, and the aspects of Stan contrasted with Bill that thread through it are incredible. Kind of an unsettling concept. I couldn’t get enough. For a fic that’s all about cycling around, you'd think it'd get repetitive, but every paragraph is rich with novelty. A FEAST.

Some Sunny Day, by @anistarrose / anistarrose; complete multichapter. Another Same Coin Theory fic. The beats of the plot in this are stunning, with some truly awesome lines that left me reeling and thinking Oh SHIT that did NOT just happen!!! In the best way possible. A highly interesting story and some excellent takes on the Pines family and the world of Gravity Falls.

Towards the Sun, by @notthistimespock and pinesinthewoods; complete multichapter. EXTREME BROTHERLY FEELS. Incredible! Love the in-depth examination and speculation on Ford and Stan prefinale. A different ending for Weirdmageddon, following Ford’s journey through Stan’s mind. It gets sad, it gets scary, it gets freaky, you shed tears. Another one of those staple fics for the fandom. The story is a wild and heartrending adventure, full of imagery that stuck in my brain for years after the first time I read it.

Fisherman’s Knot, by @scribefindegil / scribefindegil; complete multichapter. MORE EXTREME BROTHERLY FEELS. Deals with postcanon adventures on the Stan’O’War II, including some reeeaaaally bad mental states/situations. Have tissues handy. I think this is generally regarded as the be-all-and-end-all of Stan twin angst. It is long, it is HEAVY, but it is also heartwarming and hopeful, and full of adventure and magic, and the kind of love it's made with really comes through.

Mob Boss Stan Pines, by Capricious_Passions; complete multichapter. A fic that you HAVE to read over again to get the complete picture. Complex and well-thought out, incredible attention to detail, but the first read will baffle you! A lot of fun trying to figure out what’s happening, and even more fun on the re-read picking up all the details you missed the first time!

Scrapbook, by Shyeye; complete multichapter. The complicated weight of grief hangs heavy over everyone in the story, and the difficulties in dealing with it are at the forefront of everyone’s minds. The depth each of these characters are written with is very much appreciated, not-so-pretty parts and all. This was a wonderful, touching, read.

Rescind, Reset, by @endae / endae; one-shot. Canon divergence where Mabel temporarily lost her life during Weirdmageddon, and the aftereffects on her and the rest of the family. It is one of the most beautiful things I’ve read, very emotionally raw. I cry every time. This incredible story is wrought with a filter of broken hearts being pieced back together as the characters live through the aftermath of their happy ending. It’s a shining, nuanced take on Mabel and how someone with her personality deals with the plot premise. I love the complexity of the emotions in this, not only from Mabel but also from the rest of the Pines as they work through their own traumas.

Safe as Houses, by @beastenraged / Beastrage; complete multichapter. If I could whistle I would! An entrancing read about the Pines family’s adventures from the perspective of their home. Some great and not too far-fetched ideas about how the Shack may have come across to its inhabitants over the years.

Greyscale, by @impishnature / impish_nature; one-shot. OH MY LORD. Incredibly touching and heartbreaking, I can’t look at this directly for fear of being emotionally blinded. Loss, and gain, and loss. Striking, powerful, so, so beautiful and painful. The aftermath of Weirdmageddon: another canon divergence where Stan lost his life. Except... Reverse Portal AU Stan stumbles across this sad dimension soon after. I swear, no fic has made me cry so hard and left me so much in shock of what the heck just happened to me. I love the look at how loss has affected the characters, and I especially love the path to recovery that is laid out for them.

Buying Gold, by @dubsdeedubs / WDW; incomplete series. Veeeery intriguing. It’s not really Same Coin Theory, but it’s a great read about the similarities between Stan and Bill and some cool speculation on Stan post-defeating Bill.

Any Family You Choose, by @nicnacsnonsense / Nicnac; incomplete multichapter. So sweet! Portal Dipper finds a young Stan Pines and decides to help him out. This concept is so wonderful, and the characterisation is blindingly clear. Keeps you guessing at the backstory!

Across the Universe, by Queen_Mab; one-shot. SUCH a great set of adventures. The multiverse really tries to hammer in its lessons sometimes, whether they stand a chance of sticking or not. Extremely well-written and fun, I devoured every word ravenously. Some scenes of Ford's portal time, with some VERY interesting encounters.

Star Wars

Anything Brighter than Even the Sun, by @hamliet / Hamliet; complete multichapter. The Rogue One crew survives and continues rebelling, as does Galen! The main focus is on Jyn and Cassian's characters and relationship, and how they navigate growing into a family. I love Jyn's character especially in this, with all those hard edges guarding a deep, deep well of passion.

Chirality, by @niobiumao3 / Niobium; complete multichapter. A Tech was CX-2 fic! It's great to see this fan theory explored, and Niobium writes so well! The plot is entrancing and has you hooked on the edge of your seat waiting for all the pieces to fall into place for our poor brainwashed guy. The way CX-2 thinks and melds with the personality of who Tech once was is beautiful and his interactions with his family and Phee are a sight to behold.

Crash Landing by @returnofahsoka / delightwrites; complete multichapter. Another Tech is CX-2 fic, can you tell this idea has a hold of me. The characters' voices in this come through SO clearly, it's insane, and the writing style is perfection. Jumbled and pained and confused and grieving, all threaded through with that little bit of hope. Wonderful.

I'll Keep You Safe (You Keep Me Strong), by @miadeardn / sheikahs; oneshot. An AU where Crosshair's chip never activates and he is as embroiled in adjusting to being on the run with a new little sister as the rest of the Batch. Just a sweet little moment between the two. Both of them are written very in-character, and it's great seeing a side of Crosshair that never came to regard his brothers as his enemies.

Talking in Defence, by @buskuta / buskuta; oneshot. An awesome look at all of Hunter's complicated feelings regarding Omega and Crosshair's relationship post-Tantiss. He's not a paragon of perfection, he's human. I can't emphasise enough how much I love this and how well he's written here.

Unyielding, by Face_of_Poe; complete multichapter. The scene immediately post-reunion between Omega, Hunter, and Wrecker, with some speculation on Crosshair's internal strife at that moment. There's a chapter for each of the remaining Batch and Wrecker's is EXCEEDINGLY well-written in my opinion. We don't get nearly enough exploration in canon or fanon about the depth of his thoughts and feelings.

Plan 100, by Face_of_Poe; complete multichapter. An awesome canon-divergence speculating on Omega and Crosshair's escape from Tantiss. The action is great, the strategy and coded communication is so sharp, and the feeling of desperation as Omega and Crosshair fight to evade recapture is fantastically taut. I especially love the small moments in this showing just how close these two have grown, and, in Crosshair's case, how little he's realised it happening. It feels very true to their characters.

Through Darkness Unknown, by @stardustandash / StardustAndAsh; complete multichapter. Holy shit the stakes are so high in this. A Tech Lives canon divergence of Omega and Crosshair's stay in Tantiss, and you can really FEEL just how helpless they all are to Hemlock's control. I absolutely love how this fic does not pull its punches, really forcing Crosshair and Omega into relying heavily on each other. There's so many great scenes in this that are seared into my brain!!

Ask Yourself, by StoneSage; complete multichapter. Omega is captured by the Empire while Crosshair's still working for them. I freaking love the complicated messiness of Crosshair's response to this- he's constantly challenged to act on the callous persona he projects, and constantly comes up short realising what he's actually willing to do to his family when it comes down to it. Very true to his character, and the quandaries Rampart presents him with a subtly terrifying. A fantastic examination of character and a great plot to go with it.

The Space in Between, by Misvet; incomplete multichapter. A series of stories focusing on the complications and dangers involved with Omega joining the Bad Batch. The writing style is great, the plots are great, the characters are great! It's all great! Just read it!

Maybe Fate Has Different Plans, by hanged_albatross; complete series. God I love this so much. Some incredibly touching and well-written moments of the Bad Batch protecting each other in a dangerous galaxy, with Omega, of course, at the centre. She is characterised so well in this, and constantly written with the idea of despite being so young, she is also no less protective of her brothers than they are of her.

Modern Batch, by kaydear; incomplete series. DUUUUDES just read this. It's such a sweet collection of stories about an alternate universe of the Bad Batch in a contemporary setting. Life is tough and complicated and full of pain, but also there are others right beside you to lean on when you need it, and so life is also full of love. I have cried multiple times while reading and re-reading this.

Skulduggery Pleasant

I Will Lay Me Down, by mcginnis; oneshot. This is perfection. A rewrite of the aftermath of the Lord Vile reveal in Death Bringer. I wish this was canon. Valkyrie and Skulduggery are PERFECTLY characterised in this scene, and the nitty-gritty of how they're both feeling is thoroughly explored and explained, and the tone of the story never once diverges from canon's- it is complicated, dark, and interspersed with ridiculous levity.

Pride and Prejudice

A New Addition, by @ralkana / Ralkana; oneshot. A great fic about Elizabeth and Darcy and childbirth, various moments in this are imprinted in my mind permanently. High emotions all over the place, incredible tension and wonderful dynamics between the two main characters and the rest of the family.

Mr Bennet Travels Through Time, by AMarguerite; oneshot. A truly great fic with a wild concept that totally works. Mr Bennet is actually from the 1990s. Weird and funny, but also touching and sad, and goes leagues towards explaining a lot of this man's quirks and contradictions. I was fully invested in this all the way through reading, and it did not disappoint. Utterly satisfying.

Once Upon a Time

The Worst, by @alchemistc / alchemistique; oneshot. The real-life dynamics of these ridiculous fairytale people had me grinning ear to ear. The mortifying ordeal of your family of fictitious characters helping you move into your college dorm as told from Henry's perspective. Love it to death.

[emma-cowboylikeme]

bokuaka fic recs

a million times along the way by starsqwub - don't let the fact that this fic is unfinished stop you from reading. i'm so serious. this fic is an absolutely beautiful character study and one of my all-time favorite fics

until we run out of mornings by viverella - snapshots of bokuto and akashi's relationship. so lovely and domestic

No Lie by iliura - jealous bokuto (as a treat)

desire lines by crocodile - the beauty of taking the long way

The Space Between the Stars by leuralo_l - this fic captures both of them so well

we choose hello, again and again by pomme (manta) - post-timeskip, established relationship. they are so cute