summer barbecues

Overwatch Heroes at the Family Barbecue

Genji: Just kind of chilling beneath a shady tree with Zenyatta. Ocassionally glances at Hanzo, who refuses to make eye contact with him. Is wearing swim-trunks. No one knows why.

McCree: Reeks of beer and smoke. Being overly-friendly and very loud. No one really minds. Keeps trying to give the younger heroes “life advice”. At least he hasn’t thrown up yet. No one knows how he managed to get so smashed off of, like, 4 beers. Truth is, he was drunk when he got there. Snuck a sip of his beer when Mercy and 76 weren’t looking. She hated it. He laughed.

Pharah: Wearing jeans and a long sleeved shirt, even though it’s, like, 90 degrees Fahrenheit(32 C). Doesn’t get why everyone else is complaining about the heat. Chatting with 76 and Mercy near the grill. Enjoying herself more than she’s letting on.

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anonymous asked:

you said top 5/10 anything, so... top 5 nb!alex headcanons?

this is a perfect place to also mention that any of my posts that mention or involve nb!alex danvers will be tagged under nb!alex. i’m in the process of going through all my posted prompts and checking they’re all tagged appropriately. enjoy! 

tw: misuse of pronouns 


the night they come out to maggie, alex gets off early from the deo and spends the entire afternoon doing two things: wanting a drink, and sitting pressed against the bathroom cabinet because they feel like if they stand they’re going to be ill.

by the time maggie gets home alex barely has time to scramble to their feet and  walk out of the bathroom. it doesn’t matter that alex throws on a smile, and tries to pull maggie into a kiss, anything to distract from the way their hands are almost but not quite shaking. it doesn’t matter because maggie knows them, and maggie reads the fear in alex’s eyes and maggie kisses alex, gently, gently before stepping back. 

before taking their shaking hands in their own and asking “what going on?” 

because alex may not have realized it, but j’onn noticed how they practically fled the deo that afternoon. and alex may not have realized it but there are two missed texts from maggie on their phone. and it’s not like alex to ignore messages, not from maggie.

so alex may not realize it, but maggie knows somethings different, something’s up.

maggie reads it in the way alex froze at her question, the way alex’s body tenses like a rabbits, ready for flight. so maggie, maggie moves slowly, she curls her hands around alex’s wrists but keeps her fingers loose, relaxed, grounding but not trapping “you can tell me anything.” she says, seeking eye contact from alex, but not getting it. 

not getting it because alex is scared. they’re scared that anything doesn’t include being not quite a girl and not quite a boy. they’re scared that maggie, so confident in liking women, won’t want to be with them any more. them who isn’t quite either. 

alex is scared. and alex doesn’t want to lose maggie, so maybe they can pretend. maybe they can push this down. maybe they can be ‘her’ and maybe they can be ‘alexandra’ and maybe, maybe, maybe if it means getting to keep maggie, 

maybe they can be ‘she.’ 

for maggie, all the while alex is talking themself out of the words that are threatening to spill over, all the while maggie is reading the pure fear on alex’s face. maggie feels the tension and the panic radiating from their body. and it makes maggie ache. it makes her ache because no one, no one and especially not alex, deserves to be this afraid, this scared. 

so maggie takes a different route. she takes a breath and she thinks of the laptop that alex left open one sunday afternoon. with tabs about sexuality and gender. and places that do gender neutral haircuts in national city. maggie says slowly, as softly as she can “you know i love you, alex.” she starts “you know i’m in love with who you are. and nothing can change that, not what pronouns you want to use.” and alex’s eyes widen, their breathing stops, but maggie keeps going 

“and if you want different pronouns, i’ll use different pronouns.” maggie says, asking slowly “is that something you might want?” 

but instead of an answer, alex chokes out “how?” 

how do you know? 

how are you okay with it? 

how do you still love me? 

it doesn’t matter the question, maggie has the answers to all of them. but that’s for later. 

the now is for pulling alex into her arms and kissing their temple and smoothing their hair, and the now is for alex to cling to maggie like maggie could change her mind in a moment. the now is for alex to say, hiccuping and trembling “there’s a thing, it’s - i’m not a man, but, i don’t always feel like a woman? it’s - i think i’m non-binary. i just,” and that’s almost all alex can get out, “can we not use her?”

and the now is for maggie to say “of course,” and “what do you want instead?” 

and it’s they. it’s them. 

and alex cries and maggie soothes and pulls them to bed. maggie lets alex cry and lets them grip at her, and maggie promises she’s not going anywhere. not now. not ever. 

two: it’s date night, they’re with maggie at the baseball game. not a sport alex is wholly into, but they are into sitting in the bleachers and drinking shitty beer with their arm around maggie’s shoulders eating peanuts and watching maggie watch the game. alex is totally into maggie, and maggie’s into baseball, ergo, alex is, kind of, into baseball. 

and the game is great, but kissing maggie against the stadium wall for a moment is better. right up until 

“alex danvers have to say this is a surprise.” 

and it may be alex who connects the voice to maxwell lord, but it’s maggie who reacts first. it’s maggie who reacts first because it’s alex who stiffens against maggie and suddenly they can’t speak. they can’t speak because maxwell lord likes to flirt and maxwell lord thinks he has game, and he, he reminds them of the femininity that they’re not comfortable with anymore. not entirely. 

“do i know you?” maggie asks, talking a half step between alex and maxwell lord, arms folded across her chest. 

“no,” lord replies “but maybe you’d like to.” 

“somehow i doubt that.” maggie replies, but lord is looking past her, to alex. 

“so you’re a lesbian.” he’s saying, and he’s a little drunk, but ever the ass “you like women. and you’re a woman.” 

maggie feels alex flinch. 

lords’ gaze slides back to maggie “you know we practically dated, your girlfriend and i, did she tell you that?”

another flinch. 

“she’s very good with her hands.” lord says, but before he can even finish wherever that statement was going, 

maggie punches him.

“mags.” alex squeaks “you-” 

maxwell lord is stumbling back, nose pouring with blood and maggie is stepping forward “come near them again,” she’s saying “come near alex again, and it’ll be worse than just a black eye.” she says. 

“did you threaten me?” lord asks, spluttering and spitting blood. 

“damn right i did.” maggie says, wrapping an arm around alex’s waist and guiding them away. 

waiting until they’re home before asking “are you okay?” and they answer by kissing maggie, hands cupping maggie’s jaw. 

“i’m perfect.” alex says “you’re - i love you.” 

three: maggie and alex have a conversation about names. it’s a few weeks after the initial conversation in the kitchen, in bed. it’s something maggie brings up because she wants to know, and the best way to make sure she doesn’t hurt alex, is by asking them what’s okay. 

so they’re sittng, maggie with the sports section, alex with the sunday comics and they both have a mug of coffee on hand, and it’s perfect. it’s calm and maggie almost hates to break it, but she needs to, so she stands, so she kisses the top of alex’s head and scratches lightly at the freshly fade they’re trying out and asks “more coffee?” 

alex hums and nods and pushes her mug towards maggie’s hand “please babe.” they say so maggie is at the french press when she asks 

“hey alex,” 


“are you okay if i call you babe?” 

there’s the careful folding of a newspaper and maggie looks up to see alex considering and then saying “yes?” but it comes out unsure and it comes out a question. 

“is there something you’d rather i call you instead?” 

alex swallows, playing with the edge of the newspaper “i-” they start “i don’t think so?” 

maggie brings the mugs back, setting them down and reaching for alex’s hand “i just don’t ever want to make you feel uncomfortable.” she says “that’s why i ask.” 

“i think,” alex says, taking a deep breath “babe is okay. just not, babygirl? i’m-” they start to apologize, but maggie squeezes their hand. 

“you don’t have to apologize for what you want to be called, okay?” 

alex nods. 

“and if any of that changes,” maggie says “you can always tell me.” 

alex nods again, squeezing maggie’s hand and reaching for their mug with the other “i know.” they say, after a sip “i know.” 

four: kara is the first one to call alex handsome. they’re going to some catco event thing and kara is bringing alex because maggie is out of town and they’re moping. plus james is away on, and she quotes 

“dude stuff with clark” 

which as far as she’s concnered probably means clark is posing for more pulitzer photos or something. it also means that she’s dateless to the gala so alex gets to come. and it means that alex gets to wear a suit, and they’re in the bathroom trying to figure out how much make up they want to put on when kara walks in, sees them, squeals and says 

“alex you look, like ridiculously handsome, get out here i’m taking a photo of us for maggie.” 

alex is so caught on handsome that they seems a little distracted in the photo, and for a full five minteus after that. to the point where kara has to come into the bathroom and ask nervously “was handsome not okay? i figured, because gorgeous makes you uncomfortable that beautiful would too, and just, you look really good and I wanted a word to say that that wasn’t just, ‘good’ becasue good is lame.” 

“handsome is,” alex starts, smiling “it’s perfect. i wasn’t sure how i would feel about it, but it fits.” 

“good.” kara smiles, standing and kissing them lightly on the cheek “but you’re going to be handsome and late if you don’t get a move on.” 


you’ve got very lovely daughters eliza.” a neighbor says at a summer barbecue. 

“i’ve got two very lovely children.” eliza agrees. 

and alex is by the grill, but she’s close enough to hear and close enoguh to pretend that it’s just the smoke in her eyes that’s making them water. but it’s her mother saying “you know alex, they’re doing great work for the fbi these days. i’m so proud of them.” 

because it’s them. 

it’s who they are. 

and they’re loved. 

James van Riemsdyk #1

So this one goes out to @carey-pricemas cause JVR is the love of her life, but I hope everyone likes it as much as I liked writing it! Feel free to request more JVR or anything :)

Word Count: 1,321

Originally posted by dallas41chicago88

Another summer day, another barbecue with your family. This time you were happy to bring along James. Luckily for the both of you, he didn’t have any sort of camp or anything this hot August day. Unluckily for him, your little nephews had brought their hockey equipment and put James in net. 

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The houses what they feel what they fear

Cold ice cream on a hot summer day, cocktail party, barbecue, dancing till morning, the buzz of too much alcohol, stupid dares, skating with your mates, arm wrestling, loud laughs till the stomach hurts, shouting when your favourite band comes on, howling the lyrics in the crowd, running till you’re out of breath, tickle attacks, the get together after two years, calling your friend at 3am, spitting contests, the cheers on new year’s eve.

The panic in the crowd, the fear of being too loud, to be hated by your loved ones, the boogyman that steals your dreams,

The sun on your face, the light tan on your skin, the easy smiles given to strangers, lying in the garden, the first blossoms of spring, waking up to a sunny day, walking in a new outfit, enthusiastic cheers, first sip of champagne, giggles, braiding hair, shining eyes, paint smeared on your sleeves, the air after the rain, whistling your favourite song, barefoot running in the street, the perfect birthday song.

To be the fifth wheel, the over the top, treason within the closest group of friends, waiting for the crash and burn, the beast in the deep waters,
Post traumatic stress disorder.

The crunching of leaves beneath your boots, the smell of old books, red wine, scented candles, sweater weather, laughing loudly when nobody’s listening, solitude and quiet, the pet’s favorite, hot baths, reading till the morning, eyes for details, sand under your feet, daydreaming, inhaling fresh air, autumn style, long scarfs, self carved pumpkin on Halloween.

Too many thoughts, voices that aren’t there, the looming figure in the dark, the cold grip of fear, glassy eyes,

The winter wind in your face, black coffee, stargazing, walking through the untouched snow, the glow of a single candle, the smell of the night, the sea in the morning, the eye of the storm, running late and not caring, dark lipstick, darker nails, smirks and winks, ink on paper and skin, swimming in cold water, drawing a perfect portrait, the wind in the trees, sweet revenge, dancing on ice, the glow of the Christmas tree.

The silent cries, suffering in silence, the loneliness, the parent that pushes you down, too many bruisies and scars and lies, losing control, giving in,

Auston Matthews

“What if your family doesn’t like me?” Auston whispers to you.

You and Auston were in the car, driving to your hometown. Your family was hosting your annual family summer barbecue, and practically begged you to bring Auston.

You reached over and grabbed Auston’s hand, “No need to worry, your perfect. My family will love you.”

He looks over at you and smiles. He lifts his hand up, bringing your hand with it, and kisses your hand.

You and Auston arrive at your home, and can hear all the fun in the backyard. You grab Auston’s hand and lead him into the backyard. You open the gate and see your entire family having fun.

You see all your nieces and nephews swimming in the pool, your older brother and your dad keeping an eye on the grill, your mom and her friends lounging by the pool, keeping an eye on the kids, and all of your siblings and friends scattered throughout the yard chatting.

“Aunt Y/N!!!!” Yells your 5 year old niece, Bella. She runs up to you and gives you a huge hug.

“Hey, Bella, I missed you.” You say and hug her back. She takes a step back and eyes Auston up and down. He smiles at her and bends down to her height.

“Are you the Bella that Y/N has been telling me about?” She nods her head and smiles. “I’m Y/N’s boyfriend. My name is Auston,” he says and sticks his hand out. Bella laughs and shakes his hand.

The rest of your family comes over and greets you and Auston. Your older brother immediately steals Auston from you. You see the two of them talking and laughing so you join your older sisters.

Later in the afternoon, you were catching up with a family friend when you felt a tap on your shoulder. You turn around and it was your mother that tapped on your shoulder. She smiles and points towards the opposite side of the backyard. You see Auston being chased around by all of the kids. All of the kids, Auston being included, had huge smiles on their faces. You couldn’t help but crack a smile.

“Looks like someone is going to be a good father.” Your mother whispers and then winks at you. You let out a slight giggle and run over to Auston and the kids, joining in on the fun.

After the barbecue was over, you help clean up the backyard. Auston and your older brother retreat inside to watch baseball. When you go inside to get ready to leave, you find Auston fast asleep on the couch.

You laugh and walk over to the couch. You sit on the edge and rub Auston’s back. “We gotta go home, Aust.”

“I love kids. Can we have kids one day, Y/N?” Auston responds and then smiles at you.

There is a room in which I am always small. My hands little
and pointed knees and pockets too shallow
to hold more than a nickel or a few clods of dirt.

The world outside smells sharp as summer
barbecue, raw and sweet and warm
and far away. Some things are only for the movies.
I am soft and immovable. Stars glow

green against the ceiling like a terrible smoke.
We all knew how to prevent
the fires, which was enough until it wasn’t.
God help me I wanted to start them.

These are things you only learn out of necessity
or desperation. An enormous hole
in the wall, coated in glass.

We peel off the screen and take turns
holding our faces out to the air.
Then my shoulders. My chest. There is nothing
out there worth sticking around for.

In the room, I play soldier.
Stand tall. Quiet. Take orders and
give them. And Anger comes to me

in my sleep when I can hold
it licks my hands and my hair and curls it’s warm
breath against my face.

In the room there are only shadows.
I am one of them. I think maybe I am already dead.
But I am not supposed to say it like that. Like it happened.
I am cheap as the green around
my finger. I love

and forget. There is a lock and then
there is a key and no one uses either.

Tell me how to do it. Please. Tell me how we
keep from loving what holds us
captivated. How we escape the light

when it comes and sends
the shadows home for a few moments
at a time.

Hetalia Families at Christmas
  • FACE: They just want to have a nice family Christmas dinner, but somehow it always gets ruined. America brought KFC as his contribution to dinner, France got drunk, England burned the house down...
  • Romanics: All about the food. Everyone pitches in to make a huge feast and have a good night. The wine is flowing but no one is going crazy with it or anything. Everyone scolds Romano for his language and someone probably makes Italy cry, but what else is new.
  • Germanics: Now this is a party. Austria has the big mansion, so it's always there, and literally everyone gets roaring drunk. Austria always makes enough desserts for an entire army, then spends the rest of the night playing Christmas carols. Prussia is reliably the first one to pass out.
  • Nordics: An actual cute, relatively peaceful and family friendly Christmas dinner, well, maybe except Denmark, filling the role of the drunken uncle. They have to celebrate on Christmas day rather than Christmas Eve because mama Finland is busy being Santa.
  • Soviets/Kievan Rus: Another drunken party, but it's less fun and more scary. A fight will break out, Belarus might pull a knife, the Baltics are cowering in the corner...
  • Asians: New to this whole Christmas thing. They could really care less about the actual holiday, but giving gifts is nice and they suppose it's family bonding time and stuff, even with no one really socializing most of the time.
  • Oceania: Beach party, bon fire, barbecue. It's summer down there so they spend it in flip flops and bathing suits. This all makes Christmas a lot more relaxed than it is for most of the other families.
A thread to hold

Summary: Phil wanted a sensible life, a fireplace and a picket fence, and Dan was a wrecking ball he could simply no longer afford to keep around. But once you care for someone, it never really goes away, a constant thread between the two of them. Divorced!Phan with custody over a child. Angst and Fluff.

Word Count: 8.4k

Trigger Warnings: depression, panic attacks, alcohol, divorce

Author’s Note: Honestly this fic has been in the works for a very long time, it’s my child, and I wrote it during many different periods of my life which is why it flits between happy and sad, I’m sorry but I hope you enjoy it!

Excerpt: Phil opened the door, his hair stuck up just a little at the back, and one of his sleeves pushed up, the other falling over his hand. Fuck. The same sinking feeling in his stomach. Always the same. Because Phil was still breath-taking to him, despite the projected feelings and the ink stained tears that hid in the crevices of his face. He was still breath-taking. And not just because of his looks, of his gentle tilt of the head and his bright blue eyes which seemed to reach inside of him (you could go swimming in those eyes). But because it was him, because he was gentle and kind and warm and he was Phil.

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Complicated (Part 1)

Hey! Its been a while since my last imagine, it’s a long one and will be at least two parts. Anyway, here it is

Word Count: 1,350

Pairing: Tony x Reader

It’s been two months since it happened. Since everything shifted in your friendship. In truth those feelings appeared long before but in your mind at the moment - that was neither here nor there.. Two months of stolen glances, gentle, not so accidental finger brushes and some very, very tense silences in the elevator. You knew it should never have happened both of you did but both of you were drunk after the office party, both willing and able to make up your own minds about how the evening was going to end when you both stumbled into the cab that night. If only you’d been a bit more sober. If only you’d been more careful. It was too late now. It had been about two hours, two hours for you to try to come to terms with your life changing forever.

You thought it might have made it better, coming up to the roof of the NCIS building to clear your head but the quiet surroundings only filled your mind with even more noise. You were sat on one of the old vents that had previously been filled in with concrete. The few hair strands that had slipped from around your ear were softly blowing in the breeze. Taking another deep breath you looked down at your phone, smiling at the picture of yourself, McGee and Tony at the summer barbecue at Gibbs’s last year. A notification appeared on screen as your phone vibrated, a message from McGee, asking you where you were - though tempted to reply you simply swiped the screen, making it disappear. There was only one person that knew you often came up here, mainly after a trying case - that was Gibbs.

Uncle Gibbs. Adopted-by-choice uncle to be specific. He was best friends with your father; served and worked together, came around the house for football nights, drove your mother insane when he and your father would come home drunk after a night down the pub…family dinners. You once were best friends with Gibbs’s daughter. Christ, what would Gibbs say? You groan quietly and rub your forehead and closed your eyes, willing the headache to go, you couldn’t remember the last time you ate or felt this sick.

The heavy metal door opened behind you, closing with a thud.

“Hey Kiddo.” He said once he’d reached you. You didn’t turn your head, you didn’t speak, “You’ve been up here a while.” Gibbs paused, looking out over the roof, “McGee was getting worried.” He added, the smirk evident in his voice, making a small smile come to your lips.

“McGee always worries.” You say with a smile and then it fell. “I’m fine.” You say though even you could hear the lie in your voice, “Just needed air.”


“No.” You reply without missing a beat, making him chuckle, “I uh…I needed to clear my head. It didn’t work.”

“Why would you need to clear it?” He asked, nudging your shoulder for you to scoot over, perching beside you, “Everythin’ alright?”

“No…” You stop short, looking down at your hands that held your phone, do you just blurt it out? Do you try to lie? Make something up? “Not really. I don’t…it’s nothing to do with work- well I don’t…know it might be.”

“Okay.” Gibbs nodded, his eyes forward, “You wanna tell me what’s going on [Y/N]?”

You knew that tone. It wasn’t a ‘boss’ tone, like he used for Ziva, or McGee, or DiNozzo - especially DiNozzo, it was that same tone he’d used when you were fifteen and you didn’t know that Gibbs knew you’d climbed out the window the night before to see you boyfriend. It was the tone he adopted when your father died.

“God this is bad.” You say in a mumble, leaving your phone by your leg you put your head in your hands. You didn’t even know you were crying until you felt wetness on your hands. No sobs came out, just a sniffle as you look up and wipe your eyes, “I broke a rule. Your rule. And mine. One of mine. One of yours.” You wait a beat and look at your uncle, the man who guided you as a teen, who stuck by you when you said you wanted to be an NCIS Agent, the man who had such a worried expression for a closed book, putting Gibbs out of his misery you tell him, “I’m pregnant.”

Pregnant…The word seemed to resonate out into the landscape of Washington. Pregnant. It was the first time you’d said it out loud and the first time you actually believed it yourself.

“Say something…” You say after a minute or so of silence, a grimace coming to your face when Gibbs stayed silent and looked away. Your shoulders sag and you turned your head. He was disappointed, you could tell, it reeled of him in an instant. Grabbing your phone you go to stand but he stops you.

“Have you told him?”

That made you freeze, “Who?”

“The father.” He said in a deadpan tone.

You shake your head, “No…No, I only found out myself a few hours ago.”

“Well don’t you think you should?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

You sit back down on the vent with a plop and sigh deeply, “It’s complicated.” You mumbled, pinching the bridge of your nose, “I can’t just waltz up to him and tell him I’m having his baby,” you say, throwing your hands up in the air, “I haven’t even thought of how to tell him or where or what I’m going to do -I mean I live on my own, I’m here more hours in a day than at my apartment and that’s not exactly large, I’d have to move, find a house or–”

“[Y/N],” Gibbs snapped you out of your nervous ramblings, “I’m sure it’s not that complicated.”

You bit your lip and shook your head, your eyes on the sky in the distance, “It’s Tony.” You spoke so quietly, turning your head towards Gibbs, “The baby. He’s the father.”



“DiNozzo, Tony?”

“That would be the Tony.” You nod your head, you would have laughed at the look on Gibbs’s face if you weren’t in such a predicament.

Gibbs however, did laugh, a wry chuckle and shook his head, “I have to say. I’m not surprised.” He said and looked at you before rolling his eyes, “From the first moment you joined the team [Y/N], Vance and I had a pool goin’, of course we never thought it would happen - my rules after all and the fact that you’re like my daughter so DiNozzo–”

“Wait-wait-wait- what? You’ve been betting? How long it would take until Tony and I…” You huffed when he nodded, his trademark grin making you more frustrated, “Gibbs this isn’t helping!” You tutt and stood, walking over to roof side, leaning on the small wall.

He held up his hands, “Alright, alright.”

Silence descended over both of you again. Not that you minded, “I need to tell him, don’t I?” You ask after a while, looking down at the much smaller people on the ground.

“I’m afraid so Kiddo.” He sighed, wrapping an arm around you, “You won’t be alone in this, alright? No matter what you decide to do but DiNozzo has a right to know.”

You knew Gibbs was right. You knew you had to tell Tony. Hell you had to tell Vance too. It would be around the Yard before you were home tonight, you were sure of it. With a deep breath, you push yourself off the wall and look at Gibbs, “Would you give me a while?”

Gibbs nodded, a hand on your shoulder, “Of course.” He kissed your forehead, “Congratulations.” He murmured lowly and you shared a smile.

Things German people don’t say

Why is there raw meat on my bread roll? That’s disgusting.

Deutsche Bahn - everything’s just right with that.

Water, hop, malt, pink grapefruit - that’s all a good beer needs.

Elmex in the morning, Aronal in the evening.

I don’t have an opinion about Dschungelcamp.

Beer all kinda tastes the same anyway.

You can’t use that to open a bottle. I’m not even gonna try.

Be quiet, the Seitenbacher advertisement I love so much is on TV!

Absorbing refugees in Germany? Of course! How about right next door?

Oh! An accident! I’m just gonna keep going.

Veggie Day? I’m in!

Barbecues in summer are overrated.

The GEMA is doing everything right.

One kind of dark bread and one kind of light bread. That’s all anyone could ever need.

No, no, you take that parking space. I’ll go find a new one!

I have to go to the hardware store. There’s a 20% sale on pet food.

anonymous asked:

Stai ancora facendo le top5? (Uh I suppose you're Italian... I saw the food top5...) OK so Daisuga or B(r)okuroo top5 moments?

Certo che sì! (you supposed right, I am, in fact, Italian :D). This is the second time I’m dodging the Daisuga top 5, next time someone asks I’m gonna do them, I promise! But for today…B®okuroo it is!

1. The summer training camp barbecue, aka their relationship in a nutshell. I feel like I could watch this gif on repeat…forever.

2. Every single one of Kuroo’s salty side comments about Bokuto. Here’s some iconic examples:

3. “Would you come block for us a little bit?” I would come and die for you, honestly. So yes

4. I don’t even remember what this was about but still

5. #roasted (Kuroo’s face here is PRICELESS)


Thank you for your message!

Ask me my top 5 things!


When Lauren Scott was asked to coach the women’s gymnastics team, she never realized how much it would actually change her life.

But when she walked in the first day and was introduced to her assistant coach, she knew things would never be the same.

Because that assistant coach was her childhood sweetheart. Lance Fucking Tucker.

Lance Tucker wasn’t always, well, Lance Tucker

He grew up in the California suburbs. In a nice neighborhood. With a nice family. And across the street from what Lance considered to be the most beautiful girl in the world.

Her name was Lauren Scott and she was a gymnastic prodigy from the time she could walk. And Lance loved her. 

The families would gather for summer barbecues. Even sharing holidays together. Their mothers secretly planned their wedding from childhood. Their fathers on the other hand, not so much. At least Lauren’s father.

James Scott was a world wide known gymnastics coach. Five gold medal winning Olympic teams to his name. And he was determined that Lauren breathed, ate and slept gymnastics.

Lance joined as soon as he could. Simply to be close to her. And he proved to be quite the prodigy in his own right, winning nearly every competition that he entered. He knew if he could get good enough, he could win what he hoped to be his future father-in-law’s approval.

He didn’t.

Coach Scott kept Lauren on a tight schedule and a tight leash, disapproving and putting Lance down in front of her as often as he could. But it didn’t sway or discourage her. They would sneak around, kissing in the back room of the training facility or sneaking into each other’s bedrooms at night.

They were determined to make it last, to make it work, despite her father’s constant disapproval. And they did. Until Lauren turned eighteen. 

“You’re moving?,” Lance asked, disappointment and confusion across his face, unable and unwilling to understand. She sat on the edge of her bed, still unable to stop the sobs from coming. She didn’t want to, and she certainly didn’t want to leave Lance. “He got a job offer in New York,” she began, looking up at him, and he shook his head.

“He’s my coach and my manager, Lance,” she cried and he couldn’t help but look away. He was unsure if he was angry with Coach Scott or Lauren. Or both. “I can’t just leave,” she told him and he looked up. “Who are you trying to convince, me or yourself?,” he spat and she drew back. “Lance,” she begged, “I’m so close to being ready to compete,” she said, eyes pleading with him to understand.

He shook his head. “Let’s just go, Ren,” and it was his turn to beg. “Let’s leave, we’re eighteen. We’ll go away, get married. He doesn’t have to run your life anymore.”

She looked up at him again, tears spilling from her eyes. “I have to, Lance,” she said finally. He crossed his arms and gave her once last look before he walked out the door and out of her life.

Underrated friendship #3: Bokuto Koutaro and Yukie Shirofuku

If you don’t remember who Yukie Shirofuku is, it’s okay, I forgive you. She’s the third year manager for the Fukurodani team also known as the “holy shit did she just eat four rice balls in one?!” -girl from the summer camp barbecue episode. Apparently based off the Haikyuu wiki Yukie and Bokuto get along well and bond over their love of food. Also Yukie is described as low-key and letting Bokuto use her notes/ borrow money not expecting to get any of it back. And idk man I need 1000% more of this.