#Wanted to mess around with markers. Though I messed around a bit too much and fucked up Bandana Dee's spear

[cosmoknightchaos]

Kirby AU go brr. Ramble under the cut

(In case it's hard to read, text says Bandana Waddle Dee: Defender of Dreamland)

So nearly a year after I drafted the original story, I've finally fixed up my silly little Kirby AU enough to start posting about it!

It has no official name, though I have been and will continue calling it the Sodium AU (might've mentioned it on here once or twice?). It can be broken into two parts. There's Bandana Waddle Dee: Defender of Dreamland!, which plays kinda like a subgame centered around the titular Dee, and there's Kirby: Heros of the Stars, which plays out more like the main story mode. Though I hesitate to call them the main mode and subgame bc it's more of a Splatoon 3 fake-out situation.

The whole concept of BWD:DoD is that while Kirby was out training* with Meta Knight, a mysterious wanderer by the name of Aeon crash-landed on Planet Popstar seeking help. Since Kirby wasn't there to offer it, Bandana Dee decided he'd step up! The two end up going on a small adventure to find four mysterious artifacts... Though only one is found before Aeon gets fucking murdered and everything goes to shit.

The concept of the Sodium AU in general is a bunch of What-ifs I wanted to mess around with. Mainly, what if we made every single Galactia Knight encounter canon, what if Meta Knight was corrupted by Dark Matter, what if Kirby lost the ability to protect his home and friends, and what if Bandana Dee finally got to be the main character of a subgame. And he doesn't just get a subgame. He gets the entire AU with him as the main character, which would be great if it wasn't completely post-apocolyptic and everyone he ever knew and loved was dead, possessed, or secretly trapped in a basement in a cage in a castle on a Dark Matter infested planet waiting for their inevitable death where Dark Matter will possess them therefore causing the destruction of the galaxy as we know it (cough cough Kirby). There's a lot more to it than just this, as I also go more in depth on the Heros of Yore, Morpho Knight, and a bit of Magolor and Bandana Dee's relationship during BWD:DoD (slaps roof THEY CAN FIT SO MUCH TRAUMA). Arguably there is also a prequel that involves Magolor and Zan Partizanne, but I'm still working on it and it may get scrapped or turned into a separate thing. It (somewhat) follows the plotline of Star Allies' Guest Star mode, and involves a lot of arguing, angst, and poor coping mechanisms.

*It's not actually training. It's Kirby getting fucking wombo comboed by Dark Matter

[yanderenightmare]

L "Lawliet"

rewatched Death Note and just couldn't resist...

TW: strict schooling ig, orphan reader, creepy behavior

gn reader

You were placed in Wammy’s House at an age you don’t remember. To you and most of the orphans here, it’s been your entire lives. Birthdays aren’t celebrated. The days are cold, the residents even colder. There was a time when you’d consider them brothers and sisters, but that’s also long ago now. No one is close to each other in this house.

It’s a rather stale existence with boring conditions unfit for normal children – the solitude, the competition, the games, always a ploy to make each other feel worthless. And for what… more riddles to solve?

You’d long lost interest in proving yourself among the prodigies. When you were given puzzles, you always played with them differently than the rest. They’d tell you to fill out the sheets, and you ended up making origami swans instead.

Looking around at the others, you knew you would never understand them – all blank faces staring into space. They all make you uneasy. You don’t know if it’s you or them that’s missing something, but you recognize it’s a rather pointless question to be begged. 

So you leave your paper flock on the floor and walk away.

You’d started putting the chisel of a black marker to the library books in your spare time – trying to make something else out of the boring pages. Something more palatable than the droning of law and policy you’d already read ten times over.

You had blacked out the word doppelganger when there came a disturbance.

“You had 84% of them right.”

You peeked up from the book, lowering your knees from where you had them tucked close for privacy – sitting on the floor between two bookshelves – a little nook you’d discovered to hide yourself from the rest of the busy readers in the usually crowded library.

It was empty now. Everyone was otherwise busy with the test still.

And yet, a mess of black hair was crouched down in front of you, shadowing his equally dark eyes. He held your swans unfolded in his hands. It was a disturbing sight for some reason – as though he’d dissected their guts. 

“You left 16% unanswered. Most people would test their luck and guess.”

L must have been the least creative alias born in the dull walls of Wammy’s House, and yet, he’s supposed to be the brightest of all those living there. He always finishes your tests early and leaves in favor of his own devices. Much like you, you suppose. You don’t think you’ve ever heard him speak before.

Suppose it’s only courtesy you pay him the same effort even when what you really want is to tell him to leave you alone…

You narrowed your eyes a bit, looking at him.

You sensed foul play in a game you had no wish to partake in but moved across the board like a sacrificial pawn anyway. That’s how you play these things, after all – never show your cards.

“There’s nothing to guess.” You sigh – despite knowing he already knows all this. “The blanks are trick questions.”

“So you noticed, too?” His eyes are like inkblots – much like those spills you’ve made in your book when you let the marker rest too long. He dropped your papers between you in favor of gripping his knees, leaning forward. “We’re the only ones.”

You purse your lips at his eagerness. You should have played dumb from the start – should have said you swiped the answer sheet from the headmaster’s office. He’d only spoken all but four sentences, and you were already exhausted. Any conversation with any one of your peers was like an interrogation.

“You started folding paper cranes when I was 94% done. Easy logistics would put you 6% ahead of me. But, unlike me, it didn’t seem you were filling out the answer sheets in any hurry. In fact… you seemed bored. And in that case, I’d put you around 16%, no... 18% ahead of me.”

You allowed the following silence to inform him that his ramblings were boring you. But it didn't seem he took the hint – showing no signs he planned on leaving.

Your eyes grew more jaded.

“Paper swans.” You corrected blandly. “You know my alias is Swan.”

You clapped your book together and sighed again.

“And we both know you were finished long before I started folding them.” 

He had a small smile on his face. It looked as if you’d drawn it on with your marker.

“You can state all the percentages in the world to try and confuse me, but your mind games won’t get under my skin for one single simple reason, L…” You got up and brushed off the dust, then walked away while saying, “I’m not interested in playing – not with you or anyone else in this miserable place. So do me a favor and leave me alone.”

L watches you leave and taps his lips with his pointer.

Puzzles and answer sheets have bored him for a while. Maybe he ought to play with you instead…

[afterglowkatie]

pair of pests: tattoo ˏˋ°•*⁀ kyra x catley!reader, short fic/blurb

kyra cooney-cross x reader | 1.2k | based off of this ask

‘Kyra, Kyra!’ A fan in the stands shouted out to try and get Kyra’s attention since she was walking by quite close. Kyra looked towards where she heard her name being called out, lifting her hand up to wave while smiling at the fans. Until one of them, the one that had tried to get Kyra’s attention, looked quite familiar to her.

Kyra made her way over to the girl, though she couldn’t exactly pinpoint why she felt so familiar to Kyra. She didn’t try that hard to figure it out, putting it down to probably having seen the supporter at multiple matches, ‘Hi,’ Kyra smiled at the girl, greeting her and leaning slightly on the barrier.

‘Kyra, could you get Tiny please. I want to show her this,’ The girl lifted her arm and that's when it all clicked for her. 

You and Kyra were going around to all the Arsenal fans after one of your matches at home. Laughing, messing around and taking what time you had to spend it with all of the fans that came to support you. You were signing jerseys and taking photos until you had come across this one girl who’d asked you to sign her arm instead of her jersey.

‘Are you sure that’s what you want?’ You laughed, not used to being asked to sign a part of someone’s body. It was the first time you could recall where someone wanted your signature on their body, ‘I’ll sign your jersey too if you want,’ 

‘I’m going to get your signature tattooed,’ The girl told you right before you went to sign her arm. Your face dropped in shock before a little smile formed. You didn’t know what to say. You were flattered that you could mean that much to someone you didn’t know personally enough that they wanted a tattoo dedicated to you, ‘Wow,’ was all you could speak, almost freezing in place for a minute, ‘Are you sure?’ Your voice wasn’t your usual confident self that you normally had while you were with fans.

‘Definitely, you’re my favourite player. I love watching you play, you’re amazing and one of my biggest inspirations,’ Your smile kept getting bigger, listening to how one of your supporters was talking to you. 

‘Keep talking like that and she’s gonna get a big head,’ Kyra laughed next to you, shaking your head slightly before placing a little kiss to your temple when she noticed the small pout directed at her, ‘No pressure babe,’

‘Yeah,’ You breathed out before grabbing the marker from the girl and steadying yourself before signing her arm, making sure you did your best version of your signature, writing your jersey number underneath. You gave the marker back and leant forward bringing the girl into a hug, ‘Thank you so much, you’re the first person who’s asked me for something like this. If you post it make sure to tag me, I want to see it when it’s done,’ You pulled back, looking at where you just signed. You were still in awe at the entire situation.

‘Yeah I’ll go get her for you,’ Kyra stared at the tattoo, she felt a sense of pride wash over her. Kyra would forever be proud of you, a little bit more when things like this happened. It’s just a reminder of how far you’ve come in your life and career. The way you can connect with others through the sport you chose to pursue when you were just a kid. 

Kyra loves your interactions with fans, the way she knows that you help people so much. She made her way over to where you were, you were never too far away from each other so it was quite easy to spot you. You were on your way back to the tunnel when you’d stopped for a group of fans that had gotten your attention and you being who you are, just couldn’t not stop for people.

‘I’m sorry but I’m gonna have to steal her away,’ Kyra made sure to wait for a break in you signing jersey’s and taking photos before she slid her arms around your waist pulling you into her a little. You turned your head and smiled towards Kyra, leaning into her touch. Fans loved seeing the two of you interact, being quite carefree whenever you were in places where you were the most comfortable.

‘What’s up Ky?’ You gave the supporters you were talking to one last smile and a little wave before following where Kyra was leading you towards.

‘Tattoo girl is here,’ Kyra beamed at you. Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, you knew exactly who she was talking about.

‘Ky, baby, look,’ You and Kyra were just laying on the couch, cuddled up watching a movie and scrolling through your phones. Your head laying on Kyra’s chest, her fingers playing with your hair. Kyra gave you all her attention when you’d looked up at her while holding your phone up so she could see, ‘That girl from the match that day, she actually got it tattooed,’ You couldn’t stop looking at the photo. 

You thought it was crazy that someone had actually gone through with something like that. Still in disbelief that it even happened, it’d all felt like a dream. Some days you still felt like that same little kid that used to just kick the ball in the backyard with her older sister, not feeling like you were grown up enough or good enough for something like that to happen. 

You were just a girl who liked to play football, who was good enough to make a career out of it. But you had to remember, and things like this reminded you, that you were a girl who was inspiring others, someone who was good enough for people to look up to and to be someone’s favourite. You don’t think you could ever get used to it.

‘Wow, that’s so cool,’ Kyra took your phone to have a closer look at it. She looked down at you, smiling softly, her eyes holding so much love for you, ‘I’m so proud of you,’ Kyra kissed your lips gently first, then placed little kisses all over your face, making you laugh a little.

‘Stop, I didn’t do anything,’ You felt your cheeks heat up, hiding your face in Kyra’s neck.

‘You do so much more than you’ll ever realise,’ 

‘I still can’t believe this,’ You smiled so wide when you’d gently reached out holding the girl's arm while you looked closely at the tattoo, ‘I love that I get to see it in person,’ You gently ran your finger over the lines of your signature on the girl's arm. The more you looked at it, the more it was beginning to feel real and sink in, ‘Thank you,’

‘No, thank you for everything you do. On and off the pitch you’re incredible,’ You were never one to accept compliments all that well, so you stumbled over a response. The only thing you thought that could ever say ‘thank you for choosing me to be your favourite’ enough was giving your jersey.

So you quickly pulled back and slipped off your jersey, borrowing a marker so you could sign it before giving it to the fan and one last hug before having to go. When Kyra could tell when the thought of giving away your jersey ran through your head, she had already slipped off her jacket and held it up ready to wrap you up in it before you’d even taken your jersey off.

You had no idea that this would lead into others asking for similar things from you, opening the realm of possibilities and to many more tattoos in your honour being done.

[werecreature-addicted]

Do you mind doing an NSFW alphabet for jock werewolf? :^

Aftercare(what they’re like after sex)

He's bad, if he bit you or hit you too hard he'll clean up any bad injuries but if you're not bleeding, or bruised, he's leaving basically as soon as his knot goes down. if he's had a long game he'll lie down with you for a little while and cuddle for a little bit. he's sweeter when he's tired.

Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and their partners)

he loves your eyes, he likes how wide they get when you're surprised or how pretty you look when you cry. on him he likes his arms and hands, they're big and veiny, he knows you like how they look and he's more than happy to flex for you, or wrap those big arms around your neck.

Cum (anything to do with cum…basically, I’m a disgusting person)

He either cums inside of you, knotting you and blowing his load deep in you, or he's cumming on your face and hair, the bigger mess he makes the better, he likes humiliating you.

Dirty secret  (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Panty Fetish. He steals your dirty underwear to smell as he jerks off, or cum in your underwear and makes you wear them all day with his wet cum pressing against you all day long, sticky and uncomfortable. Once he stuffed your underwear in your mouth as a makeshift gag and he whispers in your ear asking you if you like tasting yourself while he fucks you.

Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He's hot! He's popular! he's got a big dick! he gets around. He's got plenty of experience.

Favorite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Doggy or collapsed doggy. he likes being in control and shoving your head down as he fucks you from behind and spanks you. Sometimes he gets lazy and makes you ride him but he gets impatient pretty quick and rolls you over so he can fuck you at a faster pace. He also likes fucking you against a wall, holding you up with your legs over his arms while he drops you down on his cock over and over again.

Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

He loves to tease you and will laugh if you do anything silly. A little humor doesn't kill the mood for him.

Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc)

Look me in the eye. He's a werewolf. every inch of him is covered in thick dark hair. his "bush" is a full jungle, he's not going to shave and no one on earth can make him. He showers a lot though, so at least all that hair is clean.

Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

 Again, I think we all know my thoughts on how romantic he is. He might make you say "I love you" but that's only to make fun of you. He loves to kiss with tongue so that's kind of romantic, I guess. If you're looking for flowers and candles, he is not your man.

Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He jacks off pretty often. He's got a high sex drive and sometimes it's just easier to take care of it himself. He almost always takes a video of him stroking himself to send to you, You can always tell when he's horny and jerking himself off because your phone is blowing up. Not just videos and pictures but texts detailing what he wants to do with your pretty body and begging for pictures or at least a few dirty texts he can use to get off.

Kink (One or more of their kinks)

He's a huge Sadist, who loves to degrade, humiliate, and hurt. He doesn't like floggers or whips, he usually only hits you with the palm of his hand.

Marking, obviously, he likes to bite you and leave hickeys. but writing too, he'll write "whore" or "bitch" across your face or chest with makeup or markers. Just to claim you as his a little more

Breeding/ creampies, again werewolf, what do you want from me

Dacraphilia, like I said earlier, he loves to make you cry whether it be from pain or pleasure.

Slight corruption/innocence kink. for him it's not so much about taking your innocence as it is, other people think you're demure and pure while you slut yourself out for him and show him how dirty you really are.

Exobisinism and public sex, tied back to the innocence thing, he likes stopping away your public image as a shy little nerd and revealing how depraved you're willing to be for him. and he knows he's hot, he likes showing off his big cock and how well he can make you cum.

Location (Favourite places to do the do)

The school locker room or the back of his car

Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Whenever he's had a good game or a solid workout when the adrenaline is running high. it also gets him hot seeing you sweating, even if it's just a hot day out. Also, well, he's a werewolf, he does go into Ruts, when he's in heat like that breathing in the wrong way will get him hard.

NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

He's pretty open to experiment, but he doesn't like toys. He like deep, raw, primal sex. Not cheap vibrators or fuzzy pink handcuffs. God help you if he catches you with a dildo, what? his cock isn't good enough for you? You need some silicone bullshit? he's going to murder you in the bedroom tonight.

Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Receiving. almost exclusively receiving. He loves the way you suck his cock. He will eat you out if you aren't wet enough for his liking, or if he really fucked up and needs to make it up you. Or really, if you're too tempting for him to resist getting a taste of you. So... really it's like 50/50

Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Rough and hard. he's fast, chasing his orgasm eagerly and openly from the second he sinks into you. the only time he really slows down is if he's teasing you and edging you.

Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Loves a quickie. He'll pull you into a semi-private space to fuck you in between classes or when you have a free moment. something fast and rough, just how he likes it.

Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He's mostly willing to try anything you're into and he's typically the kind of guy who would try anything once. However, asking is the hardest part. He will never give in right away, instead teasing you and mocking you for wanting to try out something so gross and kinky, even if you're just telling him you have a praise kink. Eventually, though he gives in and starts experimenting with whatever it is you wanted to try. If he's not into it, he'll just tell you it's not his thing, and you're a freak for wanting to try it out. If he likes it, all mockery stops and he just acts like nothing happened as he integrates this new kink into playtime.

Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

 His stamina isn't bad but it's nothing superhuman or anything. With his knot, you sort of have a forced break in between rounds but he can usually go two or three rounds before he gets tired. and he lasts a good while, at least long enough to make you cum. if you want to try out "stamina practice" he'd be down.

Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

like I said toys are not for him. he doesn't like to use them on you or himself really. if you convince him to try bondage he might get some ropes or restraints but that's the closest he gets.

Unfair (How much they like to tease)

:) if you are interested in how much the werewolf jock bully likes to tease please check out other entries in this series. No, but seriously, he lives to mock and deride you. He loves to deny you orgasms and make you beg like a bitch in heat for his fingers or his dick.

Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He's not loud but he's mouthy. Always muttering something dirty in your ear while he fucks you. He snarls and growls too especially when he's close to cumming.

Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

He claims to sleep around a lot and have a bunch of people on his roster but usually, if he finds a good fuck who can tolerate his annoying personality and high sex drive he stays with them for a long time and only sleeps with them. So he might tell you that you're lucky he called you up this time, or that he's busy fucking some other chick. he's lying, he's only sleeping with you right now.

X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants)

Red and veiny with a pointed tip he presses right against your cervix. He's around 10-11.5 inches when he's hard his knot takes up the lower 1/4th of his cock, huge hairy balls that are always full of hot werewolf cum for you to take,

Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

very high. he likes to have sex at least once a day but prefers more than that. if he has it his way he'll be fucking you 4 or 5 times a day but you have "responsibilities" or whatever. when he's in heat if he's not dead asleep he's thinking about sex and craving it, even then he might have a wet dream and wake up needy and desperate.

ZZZ (How quickly they fall asleep afterward)

a good orgasm makes him sleepy, especially if he's already tired from something else, but usually he doesn't fall asleep right after sex, especially because he usually likes to fuck in locker rooms and secluded parts of the woods. not ideal napping spots.

[embrosegraves]

ℙ𝕖𝕣𝕗𝕖𝕔𝕥 𝔽𝕠𝕣 𝕄𝕪 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖

(request) Carlos Sainz Jr x Reader  A sweet moment between two lovers   Carlos has a tough day, so you make him feel better.

Warnings: None! Just straight up fluffiness

Media Day in the Paddock. A day both loved by the fans and hated by the drivers. It was a day that could be summed up as being ‘two sides of the same coin’. It was a day that neither excited nor enthused Carlos, but sometimes Media Day had its moments that made it worth the while. 

Carlos had been doing interviews for the better part of the day and it was finally time for he and Charles to film a video that would be cut up into bits for the Scuderia Ferrari Instagram. Entering the Ferrari hospitality, Carlos walked to the area that was set up for filming. 

Charles had been there for only a few minutes so when Carlos got there he plopped down on the couch beside him. Charles looked at him with a small smile. 

“Tough day?” he asked. 

Carlos groaned a little, “You have no idea.” 

“Unless Caco has anything else for you to do, this should be the last thing for today.” 

“I can only hope.” Carlos let a little chuckle out before repositioning so that he was properly sat up. 

The media personnel quickly explained that all they were doing for this video was answering some fan tweets and mock interviewing each other. Carlos was thankful that it wouldn’t be too strenuous a task for the last commitment of the day. 

While the media were setting up the last little bits for the video, you walked through the door of the hospitality, having a chat with Charles' girlfriend. They hadn’t been dating for very long, and you wanted the girl to feel more comfortable around the paddock so you had offered to be her friend so that she would have someone to talk to through the days you both accompanied your boys. Upon entering you were grateful that the team had set up an area for you both to sit while the drivers did their thing. 

You had sat down before noticing that Carlos seemed more tired than he usually was at this point of the day. Thankfully there was a little lull in your conversation, so you quickly apologised to the sweet girl beside you as you searched through your mini bag for the marker you always kept on hand for occasions like this. Finding it, you got up from your seat and walked over to Carlos, a gentle smile on your face. 

As soon as he clocked that you were walking over, Carlos’ eyes snapped to yours and gave you a smile. He knew as soon as he saw your marker that the rest of the day would be alright. Without prompt he held his hand toward you, you had done this so often that it was second nature for you both.

Standing in front of him, you gently grabbed his hand, flipped it so you could draw on his inner wrist and uncapped the marker. You concentrated hard on not messing up any of the lines you were drawing, as you were drawing upside down so that he could see it. The smile on both of your faces never left, though his did soften as he watched you draw. 

Finishing up your artwork with a beaming smile, you capped the marker. 

“There, all done!” 

Carlos grabbed both of your hands after you were finished and placed them both to his mouth. He gave them a few deep but gentle kisses and then put them on either side of his face. When his hands were free they fell into place around your hips and he carefully dragged you a little bit closer so he could hug you. 

“Gracias, Mi Amor.” 

It never failed to make you smile when he spoke to you in his mother tongue, no matter how simple the sentence. One of your hands moved to the side of his neck while the other gently brushed the hair away from his face. 

“You’re very welcome, Corazón.” 

Carlos could be seen throughout the video gently grazing his fingers over his inner wrist, trying his hardest not to smudge the image of both your initials surrounded by a heart. His day had been made.

Sometimes I wish I had a relationship like the ones I write about...

Anywho, thank you so much to the Anon that requested the prompts for this fic <3 I love you so much

likes, replies and reblogs are always appreciated <3

[qedart]

Time Warp AU - #14 Well this update just didn't want to come together. But finally it's done (all 8K+ of it 😬) and I'm actually rather happy with how it turned out. So I hope you all enjoy this offering of Pete emotional H/C with a side of parental Icemav.

Honestly, Pete had never really got the big deal about birthdays. Sure, when he was little they seemed important. They’re supposed to, when you’re young. But he wasn’t a child anymore. 

He’d learned a long time ago that simply managing to make it through the year wasn’t exactly cause for celebration. A few rounds of people forgetting, ignoring, or scoffing at him for waiting for some kind of acknowledgment of the date had made it all very clear to him - nobody gives a damn about stuff like that, and you look pathetic if anybody catches on that you might. 

So he didn’t. Doesn’t. 

For the longest time now, the only real significance that that day held for him was as a marker of his being one year closer to independence. Living with Mav and Ice, even that didn’t provide the same spiteful satisfaction that it once had. 

These days, he didn’t count down the months until he was free of the people he found himself in the midst of. Quite the opposite really. Ice, Maverick, Tom, the Daggers, the uncles… they were good people. Good, kind, safe people - and they actually seemed to like Pete being around. 

Nothing lasts forever though, of course. He knew that. He was well aware that he was one big screw up away from blemishing whatever image they all had of him, one proper misstep from sending the whole house of cards he’d built around himself from falling to the ground in one way or another. And he was well overdue for one of those mistakes. Unfortunately, it was an inevitability. The sky is blue. Water is wet. Pete Mitchell messes up nice things. 

He tried not to let it bother him too much. 

It was better to just live in the moment, and at this particular moment he had far bigger concerns than inevitabilities or the fact that he was turning 17 in a week. The chief among them - Maverick was turning 60. 

Unlike Pete’s birthday, that was something significant. That was important. That was worthy of celebration. 

Up until this whole time-warp fiasco went down, Pete would have put money on him (any version of him) not making it past 30. 60 was double that! It demanded celebration, even if Mav himself had developed a habit of referring to the subject of his age merely as ‘the situation’.

So when Ice suggested a little lunchtime get-together by the Hard Deck the coming Saturday ‘for the birthday we’ve got coming up’, he agreed that it was a fantastic idea. 

“Penny’s got a barbecue there that we could use I’m pretty sure,” Tom chipped in over his cereal. 

“Nice. I’ll be there if there’s food,” Pete grinned as he made a bowl for himself. 

Tom rolled his eyes. 

“You were going to be there anyway, numb-skull.”

“Boys, please,” Ice sighed, before Pete could return fire. “I’ve not had my coffee yet, let’s just hold off on the bickering for a little while longer.”

Pete sniffed when Tom promptly shot him an exceedingly smug smirk. 

“I’d get drinking if I were you.”

“Pete.”

“Fine,” Pete huffed, before turning back to Ice. “The beach sounds great though. Want us to bring anything?”

“Just yourselves,” Ice replied, shaking his head. “Mav and I will sort out the logistics.”

And that was that. Party at the beach to celebrate Mav’s 60th, be there at 12. Sorted. 

The rest of the week went by like normal, for the most part. He was asked if he was excited about the party a bit more often than he expected he would be, but he figured it was just people making conversation. He and Tom spent most of Thursday trying to find the old man a fitting birthday present. 

“You’ve seen the hanger! How are we supposed to top that?!”

“I think we should probably start by setting our sights a little lower.”

In the end they decided to both go in on a new camera, figuring it was the most affordable of Mav’s hobbies to tap into. 

When the day itself eventually did roll around, Pete was up and out of bed by dawn. Not due to excitement, and not due to any additional birthday gestures like he’d been contemplating (a fry up was always a good start to the day, after all), no - due to Tom. 

“We’re going for a ride and you’re going to enjoy it,” he announced the second Pete woke (with a start, thanks to the other boy dropping his riding jacket and boots on top of him). “Up and at ‘em.” 

“But what about Mav’s-?”

“We’ll see him at the party, I’ve left a note,” Tom announced, grabbing the end of Pete’s quilt and dragging it out of the room with him. “Mush.”

“I hate you!”

“Hate me on the move. There is breakfast with our name on it somewhere.” 

“Ugh!” 

The ride, annoyingly, was fantastic. The roads were mostly clear, and riding with Tom was always a blast. Tom even bought him breakfast and a couple of pastries for after (“It’s your birthday, idiot. Of course I’m shouting”). It was… well, nice. Pete didn’t care about birthdays, he really didn’t, but even still… it was just nice. Sitting at the look out, munching on the food his best friend had bought for him, he found himself feeling genuinely content with life and how it was turning out. A year ago, he wouldn’t have been able to bring himself to even imagine that. It was a moment he resolved to savour. 

“You feel any different?” Tom asked, smirking as he dusted the icing sugar from his Pączki off his fingers. 

Pete scoffed at the question, rolling his eyes. 

“Oh yeah,” he replied, nodding seriously. “I feel like I’ve levelled up, you know? Way more mature now. I feel like I’ve really grown as a person.”

“And yet not an inch vertically? Life’s not fair, is it-?”

“Fuck you!”

Tom snickered, ducking out of the way of the hand Pete swung at the back of his head, before holding his own up in surrender. 

“Seriously though, happy birthday,” he said, shooting Pete a warm smile that made his stomach do that fluttering thing he’d noticed it doing more and more often lately. 

Smiling himself and ducking his head, Pete shrugged. 

“Thanks,” he said. “It’s not really a big deal.”

“Well as somebody with a vested interest in your being born, I reckon it is,” Tom retorted, rolling his eyes. 

Pete scoffed, a teasing grin tugging at his lips as he folded his arms over his knees. 

“A vested interest, huh?”

“Don’t let it get to your head.”

“Nawww, you do like me,” Pete snickered. 

“You’re letting it get to your head.” 

“Is that why you brought me out here, to confess your undying love?” 

“In. your. dreams,” Tom scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Bringing you out here was my present to both you and Mav.” 

“How is me going to go for a ride and being bought breakfast a present for Maverick? 

“You going for a ride and being bought breakfast means both you and I are here, not at home. Which means Mav and Ice have the whole place to themselves, all morning. And there’s no chance of either of us overhearing anything and being scarred for life.” 

Pete blinked at that, before pulling a face at the thought of Mav’s birthday ride and announcing, utterly serious, “You’re the best friend a guy could ever ask for.”

“I know,” Tom drawled, before shrugging as he tucked the rubbish from his breakfast into his backpack. “And maybe I wanted to get in first with the birthday wishes.” 

“Always a competition with you, isn’t it?” Pete scoffed, ignoring the other boy’s derisive snort as he jumped back to his feet. “Race you back to the Hard Deck!” 

“Absolutely not!” Tom snapped, hurrying to his feet all the same as Pete bounded over to the bikes. “That flies entirely in the face of the contract!” 

“I laugh in the face of the contract!”

“Yes! That’s why it took so long to draft! Pete!” 

They didn’t end up racing back, much to Tom’s relief. As a result, by the time they pulled up, pretty much everybody had arrived at the beach. Bradely, Hangman, and Phoenix were still by the Bronco though, pulling the last of their stuff out the back.

“Ah, the birthday boy has arrived,” Hangman cried as they wandered over.

“Ha ha,” Pete scoffed, rolling his eyes before turning to Rooster. “Hey, can we dump our helmets and stuff in your car?”

“Sure, the back seat should be free,” he replied as he hefted the cooler from the trunk. “But really, happy birthday, Pete.”

“Ah, thanks?” Pete replied, a confused smile tugging at his lips as he stepped out of the way for Tom to stow his stuff away as well. That’s two times today. Weird. 

“What’s with the face?” Phoenix asked, laughing. “17 is a big deal.”

Pete laughed. 

“Yeah right,” he replied, stooping to grab one of the bags from their pile. “16’s supposed to be a big deal, and 18 definitely is. 17’s just there.”

“Agree to disagree. But, that raises a good question,” replied Jake, a mischievous grin spread across his face. “What sort of Sweet 16 fiasco are we competing with today?” 

Pete arched a brow at the question, but figured it made sense. Out of all the milestone birthdays, 16 was the only relevant one he and Mav had an overlap on. Though he wasn’t sure how much “I spent most of it in the ER with a broken arm’ would help with gauging the temperature for how this one was going.

Instead he just shrugged. 

“Nothing really special. I’m sure this’ll be way better.”

“That’s what we’re aiming for,” Jake replied with a grin, ruffling Pete’s hair (and then, far more amusingly, Tom’s), before leading the way over to the sand. 

Pete blinked as they drew closer. A lot of people had turned up. All of the daggers were here, pitching up chairs and umbrellas or tossing a football (actually, two footballs) around while almost all the uncles and even Viper milled about among them. Mav, Ice, Slider, and Penny were getting the barbecue started, chatting with Warlock and Cyclone (which was weird, but probably Ice’s doing). He even spotted Amelia and Theo slip out of the Hard Deck, deep in conversation with Hondo (about something nerdy and interesting no doubt) to join the group. 

“Damn, Mav sure invited a lot of people for someone who pulls faces whenever anybody utters the number 60 around him,” he laughed as he hefted the bag further up his shoulder. “Or are you all gatecrashing just to torment him?”

Jake snorted at that, rolling his eyes. 

“Nah. Though he is being a baby about it, so if we did it would be his own fault,” he replied. 

“He actually ordered us not to mention ‘the situation’ the other day,” Bradley scoffed, shaking his head.

“In fairness, Roo - you and Bagman were having a lot of fun at his expense,” said Phoenix as they all dropped their bags on the sand and set about making camp. She grinned at Pete and Tom. “There have been lots of fossil jokes. These two even smuggled a walker on base and swapped it with his lectern before debrief. He had to walk it to the side of the classroom.”

“Cruel,” Tom snickered from beside him. “Funny, but cruel.”

“You know it,” Jake cackled, dropping his bags down on the sand before stretching his arms over his head. “But nah, he’s opted out of a group celebration. Don’t know why. But I’m afraid that means you’re flying solo today, baby bro.”

Pete blinked again. 

“...I’m what?”

“You’ve got the spotlight pretty much to yourself today,” Bradley replied, shrugging like it was the simplest thing. “Apparently he’s got some day-trip planned with Ice tomorrow, so he’s sorted. That just leaves you with all of the attention. Reckon you can handle that?”

…Shit. 

Shit, shit shit - he had not prepared for this. He’d not expected this. What the hell even was this?! He’s turning 17. Who gives a shit?! Why the hell would all of these people come out here, some of them a hell of a long way, just for him?! They wouldn’t. Had they not been told it was just for him? Did Mav wriggle out of this at the last second and now he had 20+ people who’d pretty much written off half their weekend for no reason on his hands? 

“Pete, you alright?” Tom asked, shaking his shoulder, a worried expression on his face. 

Pete grimaced, before glancing around at the others and finding them all looking at him with concern. 

He pulled on a wide grin and laughed. 

“Me? Yeah, of course!” he replied cheerily, mind racing all the while. He needed a minute to himself. To come up with a plan. To fix this. 

Quickly turning back to the others, slapping his forehead as he did, he said, “You know what? I think I left my phone on my bike. Just gonna go grab that, can’t lose another one. Are you guys good here for a sec?”

“I mean, yeah,” Tom said slowly, frowning. 

“Great!” Pete cheered (perhaps a bit too overzealously, but whatever) before spinning around and, with a quick “Back in a moment!” taking off back up the beach. 

Right, step one, calm the hell down. He had to get a hold of himself and he had to do it now. 

Alright, it was a surprise. Alright, there were probably going to be some irritated people down there. So what? He could deal with irritated people. He could deal with people that actively wanted to kick his ass, irritated is nothing. Why the hell was he freaking out so much? Less than a year of being treated nicely and he’d gone completely soft, seriously?

He shook his head roughly. 

He was fine. This was fine. He’d make it work somehow. He just needed to stop acting like a baby and come up with a plan of action. 

He could direct attention back to Maverick. The old man can try and wriggle out of it all he likes but two can play this game. He’ll stick around for an hour, direct as much attention to Mav as possible, whip Jake and Bradely up into enough of a frenzy to keep the momentum going and then make a classy exit. Nobody will even remember he was here and they’ll forget all about this misunderstanding. That’s good. That’ll work. 

…Unless Mav launches a counter-attack. Which he would. 

Shit!

“Pete?” 

Pete whirled around and found Mav and Ice approaching, both looking concerned and not all that surprised to see him up here. Goddamnit, Tom, the snitch!!

“What’s going on, kiddo?” Mav asked, cocking his head to the side. 

“I mean, that’s a pretty good question man,” Pete replied, running a hand through his hair anxiously as he glanced down at the beach once more before turning his attention (and frustration) back to the older man. “I get that you’ve got some sort of three quarter life crisis going on about turning 60, but seriously, throwing me under the bus so you can avoid that is a dick move.” 

Mav, the bastard, looked more confused than chastened at the rebuke, exchanging a bemused glance with Ice. 

“You’re going to have to spell this one out for us, buddy.”

Pete groaned, folding his hands on top of his head. 

“First, explain it to me, guys,” he replied. “What was the plan? Trick everyone here by saying it’s a party for Mav and then hope people aren’t too put out when it turns out it was for the other Mitchell? Jeez guys, I mean, what the hell? Why the hell?! Nobody gives a damn it’s my birthday. I don’t give a damn it’s my birthday. Now it looks like I do, and now I get to look like the stupid little moron who needed people tricked here to pad things out!”

“Pete,” Ice said slowly, holding his hands out like he was trying to calm down some wounded animal. Like Pete was being irrational about this. “You do know this party is for you, right?”

“Yes,” Pete replied with every ounce of patience he possessed. “I’m aware of that. That’s exactly my point”

“No. He means it was always intended to be just for you,” Mav weighed in. 

Pete sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried his very best to channel Ice and remain as diplomatic as he possibly could (it did not help, mind you, that Ice was joining in on this nonsense. But he tried nevertheless). 

“Look,” he said with forced calm, “I see what you’re trying to do, and it’s a nice thought. I appreciate that you guys care and want to make a fuss, I do. But you can’t just expect to trick people into writing off half their weekend for one thing, and then bait and switch with a discount offer at the last second. Wood and Wolf flew in from Texas for this, guys. Please. I’ll see if I can get the Daggers to lay off the fossil jokes, but- …what’s this?”

“Read it,” Ice replied, holding his phone out to Pete until he took it and did as he was told. 

Jake has named the group chat: Big Effing Deal Jake: First of all, how. dare. you? Nat: Seconded! Both for leaving us out and forcing me to agree with Bagman. Jake: Look what you’ve brought us too!!!  Nat: I feel physically sick.  Jake: Ditto. Bradley: Wow, you guys really are in sync today.  Nat: You take that back!!! Ice: Could somebody please explain what we’re being accused of here.  Jake: Betrayal!!!  Coyote: Dude - you’ve been hitting the expresso machine again, haven’t you? Mav: Guys. BOB: Rooster mentioned you are having a get together for Pete’s birthday on Saturday and we’re all handling the rejection differently. Fanboy: How could you, Mav? Mav: Well first, there’s no rejection for anybody to handle. We floated the idea of a beach party this morning and he seemed alright with it. So if you guys are free and want to come along, you’re more than welcome to.  Jake: Was that so hard?!!!! Mav: If you’d waited a few more hours I’d have invited you in person at work tomorrow. Jake: But Roo gets his invite right away??? :(  Ice: Rooster was over during the day, so yes, he heard first. Rooster: Remember how you were supposed to help me fix their gate today?  Jake: Nope. Poorly communicated on your part.  Jake: Moving swiftly on - we need times. And gift ideas. Nat: What a crappy brother. I got my present for him weeks ago.  Payback: Burn.  Payback: Also, same. Jake: You’re a pair of goody-goodies, I’m not surprised in the slightest.  Jake: Besides it doesn’t matter how early you got it. It’s how good it is. Nat: Got you beat there too Bagman.  Jake: Bullshit. Pete and I have a connection.  Payback: Is that what we’re calling you being a terrible influence now? Coyote: Just before these three properly kick off - is this a joint birthday bash? Or Pete-specific? Mav: Pete specific.  Mav: I’ve already got plans for mine.  Ice: And by that he means I have already made plans for him.  Ice: They’re on Sunday though, so we’ll be there regardless.  Mav: And people think I’m the competitive one. My point is, I’m covered, so don’t go worrying about that. Coyote: Roger that!  Fanboy: This is going to be great!! I can bake a cake if you like!!! Lil bro likes chocolate, right? Payback: Guys - take him up on the offer!  Phoenix: This! ^^^^^ Ice: That would be lovely, Fanboy, thank you. And yes, chocolate would be well received I expect.  Fanboy: Yeeeeeesssss!!  Mav: Right, we’re just going to leave you guys to this.  Rooster: Oh, actually, just before you go… Bradley’s added Sly-Guy, Chip_P, E!News, Full_M00ning…  Mav: Oh you little shit stirrer.  Sli-Guy: First of all, how dare you?! 

Pete blinked, utterly mystified, as he scrolled through the group chat (which seemed to go on for quite a bit) before eventually turning back to Ice and Mav. 

“I… I don’t understand,” he uttered. 

“Join the club, kiddo,” Mav replied, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“You helped plan this,” Ice pointed out, a baffled expression on his ordinarily nonplussed face. “I specifically asked you if you would like a party at the Hard Deck?” 

“I thought you were asking for my input for Mav’s party,” Pete muttered, his cheeks blazing with embarrassment as he realised just how stupid he apparently was. 

“The daggers have been talking to you about it all week?” Mav pointed out, equally confused. “Bob asked you what snacks you’d like him to bring.” 

“I thought they were coming to me because they couldn’t get anything out of you!” Pete snapped back hotly. 

Ice held up a hand, cutting that line of conversation off before it could get too heated. Taking a deep, exceedingly put upon breath, he sighed “Once again, it appears that this family’s outstanding communication skills have come back to bite us all in the ass.”

He turned back to Pete.  

“If it’s any consolation, it wasn’t meant to be a surprise party,” he said.

Pete scoffed softly, in spite of himself, but soon enough the begrudging amusement gave way to confusion once more. 

“I still don’t understand,” he said. “Why would all of them come out if they knew it was just for me?” 

“How’s it any different from them coming out for me?” Maverick asked with a frown.

Pete shrugged. 

“They’re your family,” he replied simply. “They’re supposed to show up for you.” 

“They’re your family too,” Maverick argued, his frown deepening. 

“You do know that, don’t you?” Ice said slowly, eyes narrowed suspiciously. 

“Yeah. Course,” Pete muttered, cutting a quick glance to the group in question. Nobody seemed to have noticed they were gone yet, thank goodness. Somehow Pete felt like he’d find himself even more outnumbered if they did. He had to bury this quick though, if he wanted to avoid that fate. 

Unfortunately, when he turned back to the oldtimers, Ice had his signature ‘so you’re just going to lie to my face now?’ expression in place. Never a good sign. Also almost never directed at Pete he realised with a dull pain. 

“You know, you pull that face every time this topic of conversation comes up.”

“What face?” 

“The ‘well if it makes them happy’ face,” Ice replied, folding his arms over his chest. “Be honest with us, Pete. What’s going on here?”

Pete shrunk back a little at that, feeling very much under a spotlight all of a sudden and not entirely sure why. 

“N-nothing. Nothing’s going on.”

“Well clearly something is. And just to be clear, do you honestly believe that we’d have all been fine throwing a party for Maverick and doing absolutely nothing for you?” the older man asked, arching a brow pointedly. 

“I… I mean… I… I’d get it,” Pete stuttered, heart pounding in his chest. What the hell was going on? What did he even do? He took a step back, giving into the instinct to at least be out of arm's length, only to knock into the back of Ice’s Jeep when he tried. Crap. He was trapped. And he was in trouble. And he didn’t know why. 

His alarm must have shown on his face too, because soon enough Ice was taking a step back himself, hands held up disarmingly. 

“Pete, I’m not angry with you,” he said, calmly and far gentler than before. “I’m sorry.”

Pete swallowed thickly, but nodded all the same as he tried to rein himself in, to calm down for goodness sake. He was being so damn stupid!!

“I just don’t understand,” Ice continued. “You know everybody here loves you, don’t you? We haven’t dropped the ball that much I hope.” 

Embarrassment and shame twisted sickeningly in the pit of Pete’s belly. Because he did know that. He knew how hard everybody had tried to make him and Tom feel welcome. And not just as novelty extensions of Mav and Ice either, but as their own, separate people. They’d all tried so hard to bring them into the family and make them feel like they belonged in it, Pete knew it. He saw it each day. For the most time, he felt it too, but there was just this part of him that wouldn’t allow him to accept it fully. Wouldn’t allow him to trust it. To trust them. 

“I’m sorry,” he uttered weakly, staring down at the tips of his boots. “I… I know it doesn’t make sense. It’s not anything you guys have done, or haven’t done. I know how much you’ve all tried to be welcoming. And you have, truly. I love it here… so much. But… but every time I try to… it’s just in the back of my mind I’m always… I…” 

He flinched sharply when something touched his arm, but it was just Ice reaching out to him. All of a sudden, that contact, that offer of reassurance was all he wanted. Sighing heavily he stepped forward and leaned against the old man’s chest, dragging in a deep, calming breath as Ice’s arms wrapped around him, squeezed him in a tight. 

“I love it here,” he uttered. “And everybody here… and I know they- you all care - about me and Tom. But I just know…” 

He sighed deeply. 

“It’s just… self-preservation, I guess. I know it’s going to really hurt, so much, when I mess up.  I didn’t care, when it was just some other home I was stuck in longer than usual, but now… now it’s probably too late already. When I mess up and have to go-”

“Hey, who said anything about you going anywhere,” Ice said with a frown, holding him closer. “We told you, you have a place in this family for life. Nothing will change that.”

Pete sighed sadly, shaking his head where it was pressed to Ice’s sternum. They didn’t get it. They felt that way now, but it wouldn’t last. 

“No matter how hard you try, you’re going to end up alone.” 

Both Pete and Ice froze at that, before turning to face Maverick, who looked all the world like he’d just commented on the weather rather than putting one of Pete’s deepest, most painful fears to words. And he wasn’t done. 

“We’re going realise just how messed up you really are. How much damage has been done. How much of it can’t be undone. And, most importantly, how much of it you probably deserved. And sooner or later we’ll change our mind about you. It’s all well and good to say we’ll always want you in the family if we haven’t seen the full picture yet, because let’s face it, you’re on the good behaviour streak of a lifetime right now. But sooner or later, you’re going to mess up, because that’s what you do. And then we’ll see the real you. The screw up. The waste of space. The guy everybody else can see clearly. Eventually the rose-coloured glasses will come off and  we’ll really see you for what you are. We’ll get tired of trying to bring somebody into a family who doesn’t deserve to be in it and clearly is meant to be on their own. It’ll be better for everyone to just stop trying. We probably won’t kick you out, to be fair - but when you head off to college or the academy… the calls and emails will peter out. Tom will probably find his own people too, when he’s got other options. He’ll stop spending time with you too. It’ll probably be pretty amicable really. But everybody will just go on with their life and there will be no room for you in them. That will be that. Better to just accept it now, try not to get too attached to how things are, so when it happens, at least you won’t look like you were blindsided by it all. It’s a bit less pathetic if you at least saw it coming.” 

Pete’s stomach sunk so fast through the blacktop it felt like he was pulling negative G’s. Mav knew. Mav saw how this was going to play out just as clearly as he did. The first card in his little house was beginning to wobble. 

To his horror he felt his face beginning to heat up and his eyes beginning to sting. He dragged in a deep, shuddering breath, squeezing them shut tight. He wasn’t a baby. This wasn’t a surprise. He wasn’t going to start crying in the middle of the car park where everybody could see him like some child. 

He jumped as an arm wrapped around his shoulders and looked up to find Ice, holding him close again, and leading them to the space between his jeep and Bradley’s Bronco - more or less out of sight from the rest of the group.

“Sit down and take a few deep breaths for me, kiddo,” he murmured, manoeuvring Pete until he was sitting down on the gravel, back pressed against the rubber of the Bronco’s tyre. Biting his lip, he folded his arms tight over his chest, knees drawing up as Ice kneeled down beside him and wrapped an arm back around his shoulders, rubbing up and down his arm soothingly all the while.. “In and out. Just like that. What the hell, Mav?” 

“Just trying to work out what we’re dealing with here,” Maverick replied, sounding tired and sad now. “Pete, can you look at me?”

Pete really didn’t want to. This was all humiliating and painful enough without risking bursting into tears the second he made eye contact with the old man as well. But, at the same time, this was the reality of the situation, and closing his eyes and hiding from it wasn’t going to change anything either, except to make him look even more childish. So whether he wanted to or not, he didn’t have much of a choice. 

Clenching his jaw tight and breathing in deeply through his nose, he (as resolutely as he could manage) lifted his head and met Mav’s eye. He wasn’t expecting to be met with a sympathetic expression. How could Mav see him so clearly, and still look at him like that. 

“Does that about sum it up?” the old man asked, cocking his head to the side. “What’s going on in that head of yours.”

Scrubbing roughly at his face, Pete nodded his head. 

“M-more or less.” 

Mav hummed thoughtfully, pausing a moment, before smiling and sitting down properly across from them. 

“You know,” he said, leaning back on his hands. “The first time I met Carole, she scared that absolute crap out of me.” 

Pete blinked, confused at the strange turn their conversation had taken, but interested all the same. Mav wasn’t shy with talking about Goose or Carole, but he’d never heard that. 

A fond smile tugged at the edges of the old man’s mouth as he looked up wistfully at the sky. 

“People underestimated her. She was so loud and joyous all the time, most people figured she was probably a bit dim. But they had no idea. Sure she was smart enough, but her real strength was with people. She had this way of looking at a person, just looking at them, and seeing past all the bullshit.”

He shook his head. 

“The first shore leave after Goose and I became a team, Goose insisted that I come home with him. He hadn’t realised until we were literally docking that I didn’t have anywhere to go, so the second he put the pieces together it was, ‘Come on, you have to, Mav! It’ll be great. You can meet Carole. You guys will get on like a house on fire, I know it’. And I, for the life of me, couldn’t come up with a good enough excuse to convince him otherwise. I think I was a bit blindsided that he was offering to spend more time together at all.” 

He scoffed. 

“Either way, the pressure was dialled up to 11,” he drawled. “Not only would I have to stay on my best behaviour for even longer, to keep Goose on side - and I’d been on a 6 month streak at that point and felt the end looming. But I also had to become best friends with his wife, immediately. Otherwise he’d wonder how he got that one so wrong. Then he’d look closer, and he’d see everything he’d somehow missed about me before. See exactly where I was lacking. Me getting to keep the one person in the navy, hell, the one person in the world that gave a damn about me - depended on this month going well.”

Rubbing at his scratchy eyes, Pete leaned a little more into Ice’s side, before asking. “You managed to pull that off?”

“Hell no, I lasted less than a week,” Mav scoffed, shaking his head. “And it only lasted that long because Goose and Carole had the patience of saints.”

Pete frowned. That didn’t make sense. He might not know this story but he knew a hell of a lot of the others that came later. He knew Mav stayed friends with Goose, and Carole as well, for years after when this would have happened. How could it not have worked? How did he screw up that badly and still manage to keep them around? 

He shot Ice a confused glance, receiving a ‘just roll with it’ shrug in response. 

“Carole was living in this tiny town in the middle of nowhere Texas at the time. Her aunt needed help moving or something. Unfortunately that meant I had had about six hours of travelling to work myself up and come up with a game plan for how I was going to make it all work. Going in with a charm offensive wouldn’t have done it, Goose would feel like making moves on his wife, Carole would feel like I was a creep, and I’d be stuck with both of them feeling like that for a month. I couldn’t risk being myself, for reasons already discussed. So I decided on the red carpet treatment. From the second I got out of Goose’s truck to the second we got back in it to head back to the airport, Carole Bradshaw would be shown a level of respect and deference that no admiral had or has ever received from me. The queen of England could have come around and found it excessive. But it was the best I had.

“I addressed her as ma’am, I stood when she walked into the room or got up from the table, I tried to help out around the house as much as I possibly could. A big part of the plan was also trying to give her and Goose as much space and time to themselves as possible. I wasn’t supposed to be there, and the absolute last thing I wanted is for them to miss out on time together because Goose felt obliged to bring me along with him. On paper, I thought it worked. Be respectful and stay out of the way. Unfortunately, in practice it went more along the lines of me actively avoiding everybody like it was my job and, whenever I couldn’t, making the situation so awkward it was uncomfortable for everybody. And it was uncomfortable. My god. Goose and Carole, they tried so hard to get me to relax, come out of my shell, do the exact opposite of what I was trying to do essentially. It was not going well,” Mav laughed, rubbing the back of his neck and shaking his head at the memory. 

“Goose knew I was acting off, which was putting me even more on edge. And I knew I was quickly moving past that ‘meeting new people is awkward sometimes’ grace period straight into ‘this little twerp I’ve known for a few months has got a problem with the love of my life’ territory. So not ideal. And Carol… Carol knew from the beginning that I was putting up a front, which made settling around her pretty much impossible.”

Pete grimaced sympathetically at the thought of it all. 

“At least you stuck it out,” he muttered. “I would have just left at that point.”

“Oh, I did,” Mav replied without missing a beat. “About five days in everything finally bubbled over. Goose tried to coax me into telling him what was wrong for about the millionth time and… well, after days of constantly being on red alert, barely sleeping from the stress, just second guessing every single move or sound I made while knowing, in spite of trying my best, it was all going to hell - I sort of lost it on him. Told him he could take whatever friendship he thought we had and shove it where the sun don’t shine because I sure as hell didn’t need it or him. That I'd been on my own for over half my life and I didn’t need anybody, thank you very much, least of all some hapless, sheltered country-boy who clearly didn’t know what was good for him if it smacked him in the face. Then I grabbed my bag and went straight to the train station.”

Pete blinked owlishly at that, confused to say the least. 

“But I thought Goose was your best friend,” he said. 

“He was,” Mav replied. 

“Even after that?!” 

“I know, I was surprised too.” 

Pete frowned, puzzling it over as Mav laughed softly and shook his head.. 

“This being the tiny town it was, the train didn’t run very often, and I’d missed the one for that day - which was just the cherry on the top really. I figured I’d just spend the night on the platform. Didn’t want to risk missing the next one, and I was feeling pretty sorry for myself at the time so it seemed fitting. Which was exactly where Carole found me three hours later.”

Ice scoffed softly beside Pete, shaking his head with a fond smile of his own. 

“Mother Goose sent in the big guns then,” he drawled. 

“I honestly have no idea if Goose even knew,” Mav replied, smiling reminiscently himself. “I think she just figured she’d given us both enough time to sulk and decided enough was enough.” 

He chuckled, tilting his head back as he recalled the encounter. 

“She came over and sat down on the ground beside me,” he said, looking around them, the corner of his lips twitching a fraction higher. “Sorta like we are right now.”

Pete smiled weakly at that. 

“She sat with me for the longest time, didn’t say a word, just waited me out, until she could tell I was ready to actually listen to her. Then she took my hand and said, “You know what, honey? If you were half as rotten as you’re afraid you are, you wouldn’t care nearly as much as you do”.”

Pete ducked his head as, all at once, tears started welling up once again. God he wanted that to be true. With every fibre of his being he did. He bit his lip as he felt Ice pull him a little tighter against his side, and heard Mav scoot closer himself, reaching out and rubbing his arm himself. 

“Do you think she was right about that,” he uttered, voice crackling with the strain of keeping himself together. 

Mav smiled, squeezing Pete’s arm gently as he inclined his head. 

“Honestly, I always had my doubts,” he confessed. “But these days… I think she probably was.” 

Before he could stop them, a couple of the tears Pete had been battling against broke free and rolled down his cheeks. 

“Oh, buddy,” Mav sighed, reaching up to rub the moisture away. “I’m so sorry. Sometimes I forget how much all of that stuff hurt.” 

Pete leaned into the contact, the corner of his mouth twitching a little as he did so.

“Actually pretty good to hear that from my perspective,” he murmured, drawing soft scoffs from the oldtimers. 

Shaking his head fondly, Mav patted Pete’s arm one last time before folding them over his crossed legs. 

“I’m telling you this for two reasons,” he said, ducking his head to meet Pete’s eye once again. “First, and I really am sorry for this but, unfortunately, this is just one of those cards that you and I got dealt. This is something that you were always going to have to work through. Being on your own for so long, and getting told so many times and in so many ways that nobody wants you, and nobody will ever want you - it leaves a mark. That doesn’t mean you’re broken. It's just a hurdle that we get that some people don’t. Everyone’s got their own set. For us - it’s being very, very aware of just how much other people can hurt you, while at the same time knowing how much the alternative hurts too.”

Pete sighed softly, but nodded all the same. That point wasn’t exactly news to him, but it still sucked hearing it all the same. 

“And second,” Mav said, reaching out and brushing Pete’s hair back from his face with a small, reassuring smile. “Even though it doesn’t always feel like it, and that feeling will flare up from time to time unfortunately, some people really do stay.”

Pete lifted his head to look at the old man properly, something like hope fluttering weakly in the pit of his belly. 

“They stick by you as long as they possibly can, through more crap than you could possibly imagine. I know it’s hard to really let yourself believe that right now. I know it feels like the second you do it’ll all fall apart around you, like a house of cards. But that will fade with time and with evidence. You’re just going to have to trust me until then. You’re not meant to be alone. There’s nothing fundamentally wrong or bad about you. The people who are worth a damn, they stay - you just have to let them in in the first place.”

The older man leaned closer, whispering conspiratorially, “Just be careful, because once you do, it’s all bets off. I had one moment of weakness around Slider 36 years ago and now I’m stuck with him.” 

Pete laughed wetly at that, smiling back as Mav practically beamed at him. 

“I hope you’re right,” he uttered, rubbing again at his face. 

“I am,” Mav replied, nodding firmly. “And look, I’m not going to lie to you and promise forever. Nobody knows what’s around the corner. Hell, a tsunami could take us all out right now.” 

Pete scoffed softly, rolling his eyes as Maverick ruffled his hair teasingly. 

“But the stuff you’re worried about, the mistakes you’re worried about making, I’m sorry but they’re just not gonna cut it.” 

Ice nodded at that. 

“Unfortunately, to shake us at this point you’d have to do things that you’re simply not capable of. And they certainly wouldn’t be accidental.” 

Pete frowned slightly, glancing between the two of them. 

“...Could you give me a clue?” he asked. “You know, to be safe.”

Ice scoffed softly, before cocking his head to the side thoughtfully.

“Alright. We’re talking about doing things that would deliberately traumatise others. Not accidents, like a car crash or getting in a really bad fight, though we’d all rather you avoided that too. Stuff that’s just evil. Things specifically done to make somebody else feel afraid or humiliated or less than” Ice replied calmly, brow rising pointedly. “Do you feel that avoiding that sort of behaviour would be a struggle for you?”

“Fuck, no,” Pete replied, nose wrinkling at the thought of doing anything along those lines.

Ice  nodded. 

“There you go. There’s the bar,” he replied simply. “Anything above that? Worst case scenario, you’re the pain in the ass of the week. And that’s a title we’ve all held at one point or another.”

“Even you?”

“Unjustly,” he sniffed. 

“Ask Uncle Sli about it some time,” Mav replied without missing a beat, before turning back to Pete before Ice could retort. “Honestly kiddo, do you really think Bradely was an angel growing up?” 

“Well… yeah?”

“Think again,” Ice drawled. 

Mav hummed, nodding seriously. 

“Off the top of my head, there was that time he threw a party with his baseball team while we were out of town and trashed the house.”

“The bike he borrowed without asking, rode unlicensed, and totalled - on a dare.” 

“The kitchen he nearly burned down because ‘guys - you can’t pause online games, how many times do I have to tell you?’ and ‘I want bacon’ turned out to be a bad mix.”

“The spy-phase that ended with him trying to sneak onto a military base, ours that is, and then refusing to answer any questions or co-operate after getting caught.” 

“I maintain that that was mostly Hollywood’s fault for taking him to watch True Lies.” 

Pete blinked, stunned by the antics of, by far, one of the more mature ‘big brothers’ he had. 

Ice scoffed, rolling his eyes with a fond smile. 

“And we still love the kid. Did back then when it happened and through much less amusing run-ins too,” he said, before squeezing Pete a little tighter to his side. “So try not to worry so much. You’re a kid, you’re supposed to do stupid things. Mav does stupid things every other day and we still keep him around. And that’s these days. He was an absolute menace when I first met him. And six years older than you are now. You’re a dream in comparison.”

Mav huffed. 

“You are a delight,” he said, patting Pete on the shoulder, before shooting his husband a pointed look. “But I think some people are forgetting which one of us introduced himself by immediately talking shit.”

“We were competing and the fact that you still bring it up almost 40 years later just further emphasises what a sound psychological victory that introduction was for me.”

“I mean I wanted to kick your ass all the more afterwards, so I’m not sure how much of a victory it was.”

“Well you never did, so a big one I would say.”

“Bullshit I never did-!”

“Go-ddddddd,” Pete groaned, though he couldn’t help but grin at the bickering, which, in the span of 10 months, had somehow become the comforting soundtrack of home for him (which probably said a lot about Ice and Maverick, but who cares). “Wher’es Tom when you need him?”

“Our point,” Ice said pointedly, shooting Mav a look that said quite clearly ‘we’re supposed to be a united front, genius (also, you know I’m right), “Is that you’re going to make mistakes. Everybody does. You’re going to do stupid things, things that we don’t approve of. And, because we’re here to help you become the best person you can be, we’ll call you out on it. At one point or another, we’ll disagree, we’ll argue, feelings will probably get hurt, egos will get bruised. And then, we’re going to be here anyway. Because you’re a member of this family and that’s not going to change.” 

“And we’ll remind you of that however many times you need,” Mav replied, smiling warmly at him, before slapping his own knees and leaning back. “Now, how would you like to proceed from here? Are you alright breaking the Birthday Drought today or would you like to go home and we can just have a nice family dinner tonight. Which would you rather?”

Pete bit his lip, fiddling with a loose thread on the hem of his t-shirt. 

“I guess I… I wouldn’t mind staying,” he replied, his heart and stomach fluttering again at the thought of all these people, his family, turning up just for him. But this time, he found his emotions leaning more on the side of nervous excitement rather than all-consuming dread. “I mean, It’s been a minute.” 

“You’re sure?” Ice asked seriously, rubbing Pete’s back reassuringly. “Don’t feel like you have to if you don’t want to.” 

Pete ducked his head, a small smile spreading across his face as, for the first time since this whole miscommunication came to light, and before that really, something seemed to settle inside of him. Some knot of tension that had been there for so long that he’d just learned to live with it, seemed to ease just the littlest bit. He did not doubt, for a second, that if he decided to leave now, Ice and Mav (and Tom) would cover for him, would back him up and stand in his corner. Whether they needed to or not, and Pete suspected things would probably topple in the direction of ‘not’ because the others would understand.

Drawing in a deep, calming breath (like Ice had been teaching him) he lifted his head a smiled a little wide. 

“I want to,” he said. “Seriously, if I ever say no to chocolate cake I want you to assume that somebody’s stolen my face and is impersonating me.” 

“Mark that down for both of us,” Mav replied, nodding empathetically. 

“Noted,” Ice scoffed, smiling as the three of them got back to their feet. “In that case, we should probably get back. Tom said he’d try to keep them all in one place to give us a moment alone but the fact that he seems to have managed it is making me nervous.” 

Pete snickered as Mav shot him an amused grin, before they both followed Ice back to the beach. It turned out the old man may have been right to worry. 

“In my defence,” Tom drawled as he jogged over to meet them. “I didn’t expect them all to lose their minds.” 

Pete felt like that was a pretty accurate description for the mayhem they’d just walked into. Almost all the daggers and a few of the flyboys were shouting, waving their arms about, jabbing fingers in faces or, in Fanboy’s case, cackling rather manically. And those that weren’t seemed content to either enjoy the show or stoke the fires all the more. It was pandemonium. 

“What did you do?” Ice sighed as they drew closer. 

Tom shrugged. 

“I casually mentioned that Pete and I watched Die Hard for the first time, and asked what other Christmas movies we should watch. And, well...” 

“IT’S SET ON CHRISTMAS EVE, BAGMAN!!! HOW MUCH MORE OBVIOUS DO YOU NEED IT?!” 

“THAT’S ALL YOU’VE GOT! IT’S AN ACTION MOVIE-”

“ON CHRISTMAS EVE!” 

“OH MY GOD! SO WHAT?! SO WHAT?!!” 

“Well, it did distract them,” Ice replied, arching a brow as he took it all in. “They’re going to go full Lord of the Flies any moment now, but it worked.” 

Tom grinned, before slinging an arm around Pete’s shoulders and drawling, “Wanna make it worse?”

“You’ve been a terrible influence on him,” Ice sighed, shooting Mav a despairing glance as Pete laughed softly and shrugged. 

“Sure.”

Tom winked before calling over the noise, “Alright, maybe Die Hard can go one way or the other-”

“NO IT CAN’T,” Jake and Nat hollered in unison, before immediately shooting each other disgusted glares. 

“But surely we can all agree that Nightmare before Christmas-” 

And they were off again, with renewed vigour and with previous alliances suddenly shattered. 

Pete laughed as he took it all in. Tom’s arm around his shoulders; Mav and Ice squeezing his arm and ruffling his hair respectively as they walked by to try and reign in the chaos; Rooster and Hangman each elbowing their way through the crowd, hollering for him to back them up. 

The fears were still there, bubbling away beneath the surface. Pete felt that they probably always would. Allowing himself to stay this attached, to actually believe that maybe this time, just this once, things truly would turn out different… it was risky. Frankly it was downright dangerous. 

“Right, enough of this!!” Rooster hollered over the noise. “Let’s settle this properly.” 

“Agreed,” Jake replied, nodding firmly. “Dogfight football. I bags the babies.” 

“What?!” 

“You can’t take both of them!”

“Can. Did. Pete, Tom, come on.” 

Sometimes, the risks were worth taking. And, well, he’d always liked to think he was a little dangerous.

[moodymisty]

Now I’m picturing a scenario where the Emperor is more apathetic towards the reader’s daughter and lets her go with you to Lorgar. And since (and I could be wrong) the time spent between the razing of monarchia and Lorgar getting “back on track” with planetary compliances was only about a year or so, that would mean that your daughter would be less than a year old when she gets returned to her actual dad.

(And if I’m wrong and it actually took longer than that just. Ignore it. Imagine Lorgar holding a baby. Imagine it right now)

And of course there’s always Lorgar’s slow dawning horror that something truly awful happened to you back in the palace, but theres also the joy of him meeting his daughter!!! — and probably finding out that he had a daughter in the first place. unless you want to go with the tragedy of him believing he could lose both his wife and his future child during monarchia. Either way the options are fun. — of course there’s going to be a bunch of celebrations planned (once you finish taking any 24 hour “holy shit I’ve been through so much” naps that you might need). He wants the whole universe to know that you and him had a child together, that this wonderful new person has been brought into the world. Expect lots of artwork drawn by the populace of you or him (or you and him) holding her Mary and baby Jesus style.

And there’s obviously the more private side of things. Her older brothers think she’s the awesomest baby ever and they will pray for her and die for her and protect her with their lives, sometimes they get a bit too intense about it but they’re Astartes so it’s not that surprising. Lorgar is trying his hardest to console you about what you’ve experienced and is also trying to figure out how this whole “taking care of a baby” thing works, he’s around you both 24/7 because he loves both of you so so so much and is also terribly afraid of losing you again. Kor Phaeron has reached new levels of seething that were previously thought to have been impossible to achieve. And Erebus is stockpiling on permanent markers for the day when his little sister gains hand eye coordination and can be directed at the nearest wall.

Now the baby is having a lot of new experiences too. Mom is still here so she’s not stressed out, but she is confused on why the Large Gold Parental Figure looks different now, why is his hair shorter? What are those gold marks on him?? And she’s got tiny baby eyes that can’t see very well so for the first couple of days she was always suspiciously squinting at Lorgar, that goes away after a while though and quickly gets replaced by her constantly staring at his tattoos (may try to chew on them too. Babies love sparkly things). She’s also confused because mom and dad(?) are calling her by a different name, she’s not called “child” or “baby” anymore. But something else entirely and her mom seems very happy about it (she’s the one who chose it!)

Basically. Imagine things being not as grimdark as they once were. Yes, obviously the galaxy will burn, a civil war will happen, the Imperium will suffer massive losses (you’ll make sure all of it happens). But right now you’re with the love of your life who’s reclining on a couch and reading some old scripture to your daughter, even though she seems to be more interested with the illustrations on the edges of the paper. Life is finally good.

this is so good!! I love this so much anon I love the happier take on this instead of the fucking grimdark greek pantheon mess we've been going with. Which of course I love, but I like seeing different angles <3

[bunni-v1]

(Twenty) Nine Lives for Love

Chapter 3: Meet the Team Prev Chapter\\Next Chapter m.list

Tw: Yamamoto (/j)

Info: Kenma x Reader ; Kuroo and Reader; Kuroo is a wingman; Your cat is so fucking fat (this is so important); Nekoma team introduction (yay!!!)

Word Count: 7.5k 🍓I know I said I was gonna get Curee out, but... I wanted to write this one so sorry lol. Anyway, I am again asking you to pretend Animal Crossing came out earlier in 2012. We get to meet the team, and I know I didn't highlight all the characters, but I just wanted to highlight the ones that are generally the most important in the Nekoma game. Anyway, enjoy lovelies!

Tag List: @angel-academia @bi-bi-papillon

You stretched your arms up above your head, groaning at the satisfying pops of your spine. The sun wasn’t even up yet, though you could see it just barely peaking over the horizon through your curtains. Maki let out a disgruntled sound as you shifted to grab your phone. 6:00 AM, 20 degrees Celsius, partly cloudy. 4 messages from ‘shithead’ (Noya) and 3 from ‘baldy’ (Tanaka). You shut the screen off, setting it back down, you’ll deal with the boneheads later. (Why Tanaka was up this early was beyond you). It was way too early to see your Dad off to work. He was never up before 6:30, and he left at 7:30 on the dot every day.

Lazily, you slumped out of bed, ignoring your cat growling at the loss of your warmth. You drag your feet over to your closet, pulling out your uniform and tossing it on haphazardly. You would fix it later once you were more awake. You took care of your hair just as fast and checked your phone again. 6:10 AM, great. You sigh, quickly responding to Noya and Tanaka’s messages (something about ‘annoying teachers’ from Noya and ‘rowdy freshmen’ from Tanaka). While you were at it, you decided to double-check the group chat Kuroo made last night for meeting times.

‘Meet up around 8:30’ and make your way to school with ‘enough time to grab snacks before class.’ You smile a little at the messages, Kenma complaining that was too early and Kuroo scolding him as usual. He also insisted on Kenma introducing you to Yamamoto and a Fukunaga, which you were 100% certain would not be happening if Kenma had the choice. You turn the screen off and sigh. With nothing to do for at least an hour (or until your old man decided to bother you), you decided to pass the time the only way you knew how: playing video games. 

With the stealth of a practiced ninja, you crept down the stairs and set up your N64. It was your Dad’s, which he bought so he could play with you when you were old enough. It had seen a lot of love since then, covered in stickers and markers from when you and Noya were too young to know better. You slid open the small drawer holding all your games, mulling over what you should play. Finally, you settled on the classic Super Mario 64. You’d beaten and 100% the game a million times by now, but you never got tired of it – besides it was only to pass the time for a bit. You would probably only play the slide level, or throw that little penguin off the side of Cool Cool Mountain. 

You blew into the cartridge, just in case, and pressed it into the slot. Not too long after, Mario’s impressive (for its time), but horrific 3D face greeted you with ‘It’s-a me, Mario’. You took a few minutes to stretch it around, deforming him until you were satisfied, then finally loaded up the game to mess around a bit. You decidedly chose not to play either aforementioned level, and hopped into Bob-om Battlefield instead, mostly because you liked the theme so much. After a long while (or exactly 45 minutes according to your phone), you heard the soft steps of slipper-clad feet make their way down the stairs, and pause right outside the entryway to the living room.

“You’re up early,” called the soft voice of your father.

“Couldn’t get back to sleep,” you answer.

He walks further in, leaning over the back of the couch to get a better look at what you’re up to. He laughs a little when he gets a full view of you running around aimlessly, setting the little bombs off on purpose. His hands come down to ask for the controller, which you hand him, and he proceeds to do the same thing you were doing. When he is satisfied, he hands the controller back to you and presses a kiss to your temple.

“Wanna eat breakfast together, since you’re up?.” He offers.

On cue, your stomach grumbles. Both of you share a look, then laugh before heading for the kitchen. Your dad makes two eggs, sunny side up, and toast. Simple, but more than enough to fill both of you up for the day. You pour yourself some apple juice, never having been a fan of bitter orange juice with your savory breakfast. When all is settled on the table, and you’ve already begun to eat your breakfast, your Dad decides he wants to catch up.

“How was your first day at school? I meant to ask last night, but that movie had us both snoring before we could talk.”

You laugh and nod, “Yeah, what a snoozefest. I thought it was ‘the scariest movie of all time.’ What a joke.”

“Scary movies aren’t scary anymore.” Your Dad scoffs, and you adamantly nod along with him.

“Seriously! But, anyway, school was good!” You exclaim.

“Oh yeah? Anything interesting happen, sweetpea?” he wonders.

You think it over, not quite sure where to start, “I was lost, but one of my upperclassmen – his name is Kuroo – helped me out. It turns out his best friend – Kenma – was in my class, and I was able to sit next to him, so I wasn’t lonely like I thought I’d be.”

He takes a big bite of his toast, and grins at you as he swallows, “That’s good! I’m glad you’re making friends. I told you it wouldn’t be that bad.”

You nod, “Oh, yeah, they actually live just down the street from us. We’re walking together this morning.”

“That’s… really convenient! You won’t have such a lonely walk now either.”

Again, you nod, “Oh, and get this, they asked me if I wanted to help manage the volleyball team. I’m going to their practice today, so I’ll get back around the same time as you today.”

He pauses, swallowing up the rest of his eggs – while you have only eaten half of what was on your plate – and gives you a nervous look. “That’s… a lot of conveniences. Anyway, isn’t it a bit odd that he’s asking someone he hardly knows to manage his volleyball team?”

You eye him suspiciously, “...That’s what I said, but… I dunno I guess he’s desperate. The volleyball team isn’t all that popular or good from what I’ve seen, so they haven’t had a manager since he was a freshman at least. Besides, if I feel uncomfortable or anything I just won’t say yes.”

He seems to accept the answer, “Alright, just be safe. Text me if you need me to come pick you up, okay, pumpkin?”

“I will, don’t worry too much,” you assure, and he reaches over to ruffle your hair.

“Finish your eggs up, then come see me off for work.” He states, getting up to clean off his plate and heading back upstairs to finish getting ready.

Obediently, you eat your food until the plate is clean and down the last of your drink. You rinse the plate off in the sink, set it in the dishwasher, and then move to straighten out your uniform in the first-floor bathroom. At some point, Maki lazes her way downstairs to find you, settling herself on the edge of the sink to stare at you complacently in the mirror. You give her a good scratch behind her ear, then leave to meet your old man at the entrance. He holds your school bag out in one hand, his briefcase in the other, and a big smile on his face.

You sling the strap over your head, adjusting it across your body, and then all three members of your household make your way outside. Maki, however, is not allowed outside of the gate, despite her wailing to say goodbye as well. You hush her as your father climbs into the old family van.

“She’s only so co-dependent cause you baby her all the time,” your Dad teases.

“She is my baby,” you insist, “I practically birthed that cat.”

He snorts, shaking his head at you, “Alright, alright. Be safe, love you pumpkin.”

You lean into the window, pressing a kiss to his cheek, “I will. Love you too, Dad. Have a good day at work.”

You wave him off – behind the gate, to appease Maki so she doesn’t disturb the neighbors. When he is out of your line of sight, you sigh, bending down to poke at Maki as punishment for her dramatics. She falls onto her side, thinking it’s playtime, and begins to bat at your hands. You huff out your nose, shaking your head. 

“Maybe I do baby you too much, you fatass.” 

She meows curiously up at you, and you can’t help but laugh at the display, rubbing at her stomach more affectionately this time. You spend a long time playing with Maki on the pavement of your entryway, enjoying the way she reacts to your poking and prodding fingers dancing across her little tummy. You only stop when you hear feet shuffling up to your gate, looking up to find Kenma. You blink in surprise, checking your phone, 8:00 AM – he was very early, and he was alone. You look around, maybe Kuroo is hiding, but there is no sign of him.

“Morning Kenma,” You finally say, standing to your feet.

“Morning,” he replies, but you can tell his focus is elsewhere. Specifically, on Maki.

Without another word, you bend down and scoop her up, then open the gate to let him in. He hesitates, looking at you nervously, but steps in when you widen your smile. Only after you close the gate do you set Maki down – knowing she would bolt if given the chance to. Kenma immediately squats down to pet her but pauses and looks at you.

“Is she friendly?” he asks.

“Yes, but she won’t be for much longer if you keep depriving her of pets,” you joke playfully.

Kenma smiles, then finally gives Maki her well-deserved butt scratches. You bend down to sit next to him, watching him in amusement. He got this glazed over, delighted look in his eyes, like he was in heaven. It was kind of cute to see. His eyes slipped over to you, and you continued to smile softly at him. There was a careful kind of consideration that crossed his face. Something… gentle and familiar about the look that you could not quite place. Then, he spoke.

“You didn’t mention you had a cat,” he mumbled, turning his gaze back to Maki.

You do the same, “It just didn’t come up, but she’s my pride and joy.”

His fingers find their way up to her collar, thumb rubbing the imprinted hiragana, “Maki. Why’d you name her that.”

You smile fondly at the memory, “I found her on the street when I was like eight or something. She was next to one of those souvenir shops that sell stuff to tourists. The shop had a big Maneki Neko sign, so I named her after that.”

He hums, scratching behind her ears, “So you rescued her?”

“Yeah, she was nothing but skin and bones when I found her. I fattened her up real good though, don’t you think?” As you say that, you give her stomach a playful smack.

“She sure is fat,” he laughs, then he thinks over his next words carefully before speaking, “Do you like rescuing animals?”

You nod excitedly, “Oh yeah. I scored a part-time job at the animal rescue downtown. I work the weekends, and I love it.”

“Paws and claws?”

“That’s the one! You know it?”

He hums his confirmation, “Yep. I’ve thought about trying to volunteer there, but I figured I wouldn’t get the approval.”

You frown at him, adamantly shaking your head, “We could use the help, and I can put in good word for you now. Besides, it would be a good way to get to know each other better.”

He seems to mull over your words carefully, jaw shifting as he thinks. You find him handsome like this, and you have to squash the squealing of the teenage girl in your head, reminding yourself you had met him yesterday. 

“I’ll… think about it,” he answers finally, “if I have the time.”

You huff a laugh out of your nose, “Oh! Uhm, I visited your village last night, it’s so cool. I love that all your villagers are cats, and you’ve got a cute, like, yarn theme going. It’s really, what's the word? Charming?”

He smiles, wide this time, “Thanks. I think I spent over a hundred hours making it perfect… I liked yours too. The way you set it all up was nice and cohesive, it felt like I was walking through a real city.”

“I based it off of my neighborhood back in Miyagi,” you admit, “I wanted it to feel as… homely as possible.”

“Well, you did a good job at that,” he compliments, “My favorite part was how you put your house right next to Bob’s.”

“He’s my favorite villager!” You defend, “He was one of my starters, and I kinda just fell in love with his personality. Y’know, he’s kinda like you!”

“He and Tangy are my favorites,” Kenma replies, still petting Maki, “…Tangy reminds me of you. A little.”

You try to shove down how happy that makes you, though your cheeks still heat up at the thought of it. The universe was out to get you, giving you this new boy who you just couldn’t seem to feel normal about. If Yuu or Tanaka were here they’d never let you hear the end of it. In your attempt to keep composure, a nice silence falls between the two of you. Kenma is still, somehow, dutifully petting your spoiled cat and you scrolling through your phone out of boredom. A few of your friends from Karasuno had posted about their first day back, and you tried not to feel too sour about it. It wasn’t your fault you weren’t there, and it wasn’t theirs for enjoying their time without you. Still, it stung just a little. Only a little, though.

“Have you thought about practice?” Kenma asks, so quiet you almost didn’t catch it.

“Huh? Oh! Yeah,” you respond awkwardly, “Yeah I have. I said I was gonna give it a try, so I won’t go back on my word. When does it go ‘till, though? I have to let my dad know what I’m up to or else he gets nervous.”

“Mine is the same way. My mom couldn’t care less, but he worries too much,” he responds coolly, “practice goes until 5, then we usually grab something to eat from the konbini down the street. So.. 5:30, I guess. We probably won’t today, though.”

“Okay, thanks,” you nod, quickly texting the information to your father. Kenma peers over your shoulder, cat-like eyes watching your fingers dash across the keyboard rapidly. He doesn’t have a touchscreen like you do – most kids your age don’t because they’re so new and expensive – so you don’t pay his prying eyes any mind, assuming it was only curiosity at the phone.

“Who’s shithead?” He asks suddenly.

You’re a bit confused until you look at your screen again and remember you never responded to Noya’s text. ‘Shithead: Remember not to be too intense or you’ll scare him off’ shows on your recent messages. Your face heats up, hoping Kenma didn’t read the message, “Oh! He’s just a friend from back home– Not just friend, sorry. He’d kill me if I said we were just normal friends. He’s my–”

“Your boyfriend?” a much deeper voice from behind asks.

You turn to Kuroo, face hot and flustered as can be. You try to ignore how Kenma’s face falls a little at what Kuroo said, not wanting to unpack that right now. Not this early in the morning, at least, maybe alone in your room tonight.

“Definitely not! Ew!” you exclaim, shaking your head, “I think I’d rather die. He’s my best friend. We’re practically family.”

Again, you try not to acknowledge that Kenma relaxes when you say that. Kuroo shrugs, pointing an accusatory finger at Kenma. 

“You coulda told me you were meeting her here early,” he scolds, “I stood outside your house like an idiot. Mrs. Shimada had to shoo me away, do you know how dumb I looked.”

Kenma rolls his eyes, “I wish I was there to see it.”

“You never leave the house early – actually, you’re almost always still sleeping when I come to get you! Who are you?” Kuroo argues.

An eye roll, “I just felt like it okay? It’s not a big deal or anything.”

A couple of expletives leave Kuroos mouth, and you snicker at him. They were just as amusing in the morning, that's good, yesterday wasn’t a fluke. Hoping to be the keeper of peace, you scoop Maki up from the ground and walk up to Kuroo.

“No arguing, okay, just pet my cat,” you smile, offering her up to him

He sighs, looks at her for a long moment, then begins scratching the top of her head. She purrs in your arms, little paws reaching out to grab at Kuroos arm. That seems to lighten him up, a wonderstruck smile growing across his cheeks as he goes in for more scratches.

“You didn’t mention you had such a cute kitty,” he coos.

“It didn’t come up,” Kenma says, now standing next to you, very close. He reaches up to pet Maki too, and you rationalize that he has to stand close to reach her. (He does not, you know he does not, but you were not going to complain).

“We should probably head out soon if we wanna make it in time,” Kuroo says, though he doesn’t stop his affections for a second.

You let him and Kenma give Maki all the love in the world for about five more seconds, then you pull her away. All three of them are disappointed. Spoiled rotten kitties. You open your front door and shoo Maki inside, laughing at the indignant face she gives you as you close the door. 

“She’s not an outdoor cat?” Kuroo says, a bit disappointed.

“You saw how fat she was!” you laugh, “but seriously, if I leave her outdoors she’ll follow me to class, and I don’t want her getting hit by a car or something.”

The two of them hum and nod in understanding, and then you’re off on your usual route to school. Again you talk about nothing and everything, and time passes incredibly quickly. These two were simple and easy to talk to, for whatever reason. It was a little annoying that you couldn’t place why, but you would count your blessings lest you lose them.

“Hey, are you still planning on coming to practice this afternoon?” Kuroo asks you as you arrive at the vending machines just outside the gym.

You nod enthusiastically, “Yeah! I’m really looking forward to it! You talked a pretty big game, I gotta see if it’s true, right?”

Kuroo laughs while Kenma slides some money in the slot, selecting some kind of juice, “We’re pretty average, but I think we’re fun to watch, maybe.” He comments, sliding another bill into the slot, “What do you want?”

“Oh– I can pay for myself,” you worry.

“I already put the money in, just pay me back later,” He says flatly.

“Aren’t you sweet,” Kuroo teases, much to Kenmas chagrin.

“Just milk, please,” you say finally, and he presses the button.

“I told the coach about you last night, he’s excited to have you,” Kuroo comments as he gets himself something too.

“I hope I live up to the standards then,” you joke.

“We don’t have any standards…” Kenma mumbles.

Your eyes glance over Kuroos hair, and you hum in understanding. He looks offended, and you sip on your milk so you don’t burst out laughing. For what it's worth, though, it gets a smile out of Kenma – which is all you wanted in the first place. Kuroo chooses something peachy, which does not seem to fit his whole persona, and then you are off to your homeroom together. You expect it to be like yesterday, light, playful conversation and quick, but it is not. 

As you are rounding the first of your right turns, a loud, somewhat familiar voice shouts behind you. Kenma flinches and Kuroo rolls his eyes. You have a total of about three seconds to react before there is a blonde boy tackling Kenma forward.

Ah. You think. It’s Yamamoto.

“How rude are you, you didn’t come by to see me yesterday – I gave you my classroom number and everything!” He says, scolding like a parent.

You think, just for a moment, that the sight is very funny. In the kindest way possible, this guy looks like a punk, and he’s scolding Kenma. You cover your giggles with another sip of your nearly empty milk carton. Kuroo sighs, which seems to be a habit of his, and marches forward to separate the two. You smile a little at Kenma, who shies away from your gaze, but still returns to your side like a lost kitten. (You let the teenage girl in you kick her feet over this one because it is cute.)

“Don’t make a scene, Yamamoto,” Kuroo scolds, and all balances itself out.

“‘M not making a scene, dude! I just–” He pauses when he sees you, doing a double take. The best way to describe his face would be: stupid. Like how Tanaka looks when he sees Kiyoko. You sure hope this guy doesn’t think you’re his soulmate – no offense to him. He points at you, “Who’s that?”

You introduce yourself and decide not to mention that you literally introduced yourself to the whole of his class yesterday. Kuroo decides to add, though you wish he hadn’t, “She’s trying out the manager position, so be nice and presentable, alright?”

Instead of being nice or presentable, Yamamoto falls to his knees and begins… praying? You think you see tears come to his eyes, and you realize the world has sent you a new Tanaka to replace the old one. 

“God, Buddha, whoever's out there, thank you for answering my prayers,” you hear him mutter.

Kuroo gives him a kick to his side, and you decide to leave him to deal with that, turning to Kenma. He looks nothing less than exhausted, and you feel a little bad. He was not much of a social creature. Still, he looks at you and sighs.

“I told you to avoid him.”

“Is he always like this?” You ask.

“He’s always whining about how we don’t have a female manager – it’s not fair because Fukurodani has two, we deserve one too.” He recalls, like having flashbacks.

“Kinda creepy…” you mumble, “but, one of my friends from home was kinda like that. Only, he’s convinced that he’s soulmates with his manager.”

Kenma huffs a laugh from his nose, “He still believes in that soulmate stuff?”

You feel a prick of… annoyance in your chest. Not only at the insult to Tanaka but because you believed in ‘that soulmate stuff.’ It also… kinda hurts, for some reason, that he doesn’t believe. Embarrassment and disappointment burn in your stomach at the thought, and you know you shouldn’t feel as bad as you do, but you do. Kenma seems to notice this because his face falls and he bites at his index fingernail. 

“I’m sorry–” he begins, but you cut him off.

“No, no, it’s fine.” The kind, non-confrontational part of yourself wins your mental battle, you didn’t want to debate soulmates with someone you didn’t know well,  “I know most people think it's silly.”

“It’s not–” He tries again.

“You don’t have to defend yourself. I get it.” You assure, smiling warmly at him.

He has this look like he wants to say more. Wide-eyed, eyebrows raised, and lip between his teeth. You hope he doesn’t, because you’re already embarrassed and hurting, and you don’t want to hear him justify why soulmates don’t exist. Why they can’t. You hear it enough from your dad.

The ten-minute bell is your saving grace, alleviating the tension in your shoulders and drawing Kuroo and Yamamoto back to the group. Kuroo splits off early because the nearest flight of stairs is closer back than it is forward, and you are left alone with Kenma – who does not seem to want to talk – and Yamamoto who is already mentally building a statue in your honor in his head. Thanks, Kuroo.

“Are you seriously considering managing for us?” Yamamoto asks, too excitedly, too close.

For some reason, Kenma finds it in himself to squeeze between the two of you, giving you the breathing room you need. Yamamoto grumbles about it, and you briefly see gears turning in his head as he considers the action, but you don’t give him too much time to think.

“I am, yeah,” you respond, “I wanna meet your coach and your team first before it’s set in stone, but… I like volleyball and there’s not much else for me club-wise here, so I’m pretty sure I’ll take the position if I’m wanted.”

“You will be!” He says too quickly, “I-I mean. I think everyone would be more than happy to have a cute girl helping us out every day too.”

You feel your face heat up at the compliment. The straightforwardness was refreshing, just like Noya, but if he flirted with you. Ew.

“We’d be happy with the help anyway,” Kenma jumps in, “we have to do it all ourselves, and it’s tiring after practicing for hours.”

“But it’s extra nice from a pretty girl~” Yamamoto purrs.

“Her gender doesn’t matter, so long as she’s helpful,” Kenma groans.

“Are you even into girls man?”

“Oh look!” You interrupt before things escalate, “This is our stop! It was nice to meet you, Yamamoto. I’ll see you in fifth period!”

You leave him in his bewilderment, ushering Kenma and yourself into the classroom and to your desks. He practically deflates as he sits down, all the tension gone as soon as his butt hits the seat. You chuckle at the look on his face, and he smiles a little, though you’re not quite sure why.

“Thank you,” he says finally.

“I’m used to his kind,” you joke, “If you ever need help, call on me and I’ll be your hero.”

He snorts as you flex your arms playfully in the air. You’re delighted that everything seems to be back to normal, though there is still a nagging thought in the back of your head. The disappointment that he does not believe in soulmates. You don’t know why it’s so disappointing – or, at least, you don’t want to acknowledge why it is.

.·:*˚¨¨ ≈★≈ ¨¨˚*:·.

The bell signaling your last class rings, and you are suddenly hit with nerves unlike any other you’ve experienced. Maybe it’s because you know you’re about to meet a lot of new people all at once, or maybe it’s because you feel the need to be more than you are to impress them, but your stomach is in knots by the time you and Kenma descend the second flight of stairs. You fiddle with your fingers, not sure what else to do with all this nervous energy. God, maybe this wasn’t a good idea. You felt like throwing up. Was it hot, or are you sweating a lot? Ugh, ew, why were you sweating?

“Are you nervous?” Kenma asks, startling you out of your head.

“Oh, uhm, hah… yeah. I guess I am,” you laugh at yourself, “I didn’t think it would be so bad, but now that we’re going…”

He considers you for a moment, before awkwardly patting you on the head. If you weren’t nervous your stomach would be doing backflips for a whole other reason now. “You’ll be fine. I promise everyone else is better than Yamamoto.”

You think – no you know that you look stupid, with your mouth in an open smile and eyes wide. If you think too hard about it, though, you might actually throw up, so you just nod. It’s enough to appease Kenma, and he gestures for you to follow him. Luckily, you do not bump into Yamamoto on the way, so he can’t pester you anymore in his excitement. (He did that plenty once he realized you were in his class. Though, you found it more endearing than annoying. You just couldn’t handle more than what you had right now).

He leads you to the entrance of the field house, where Kuroo and two other guys stand. One is short – like really short – with sandy hair. The other is more average height with tanned skin, and buzzed black hair. They’re both incredibly cool-looking, and you feel your nerves return in full when Kuroo points at you from a distance. It takes everything in you not to stop and turn around, but you manage to approach the three of them.

“Oh? Is this our little manager?” The short one coos, a wide smile on his face, “She’s a cutie!~”

“Don’t be a creep.” Kuroo scowls.

“I’m not being creepy, I’m pointing out a fact.” He snaps back.

“Yeah, like a creepy old man!” Kuroo presses further, and the two of them start bickering.

The normal-looking one sighs, smiles at you, and offers his hand over the bickering of his fellow seniors (you think the short one is a senior, because you can’t imagine a junior being so comfortable arguing with their senpai like that.) “I’m Nobuyuki Kai, don’t pay them any mind.”

You smile weakly, “Hi…” Your voice is small and squeaky, but you manage to introduce yourself. You think Nobuyuki must have the patience of a saint, to put up with his friends and your floundering all at once.

“The short guy is Morisuke Yaku, but don’t call him the short guy, okay?” he winks, and you feel a little better, “Everyone else is already getting changed or warming up. You can talk to the coach inside once you feel up for it.”

Your nerves return in a wave, “Are we late?”

“Kenma’s just slow,” Kuroo finally returns to the conversation, “he’s always the last one here. Normally I’m with him but… I figured I could leave him in your care.”

A knowing smirk grows on Kuroo’s face, and you see Kenma glare at him. Odd… but, whatever. You were just glad that you weren’t late or anything, especially not on the first day.

Morisuke holds his hand out to you, “Morisuke Yaku! Excited to work with you!”

“I already introduced you,” Nobuyuki corrects, causing Morisuke’s smile to drop.

Quickly, you take his hand and introduce yourself, and you swear you see stars in his eyes as the smile returns to his face, “You’re gonna fit in great.” He says enthusiastically. You realize then that your nerves are eased a lot. Is this the power of reliable senpai? 

Kenma tugs at your skirt a little, and you look at him, “I’ll take you to the coach so you can talk to him.”

“Oh,” you almost forgot all about that, “yeah, thanks Kenma.”

The five of you walk in, and then split off from each other. Yamamoto and two excited boys wave at you as you pass. You wonder why you were so worried in the first place. Kenma points out the coach, who is standing off to the side of the court discussing with the Assistant Coach about something. When he spots you (at least, you think he does, since his eyes remain closed) he waves you over with a welcoming smile. You bid Kenma farewell, and quickly close the distance between yourself and the coach.

“You’re the new manager girl?” He asks before you can say anything, and you nod, pulling a hearty chuckle from him, “Welcome to the team!”

The other man clears his throat, “Sir, she’s just trialing today.”

“Don’t be so negative about it Naoi, you’ll scare her off!” The old man scolds. They seem to do a lot of scolding on this team.

“I-It’s no big deal Sir– I’m pretty sure I’ll accept the position, I just wanted to be sure I clicked.” You try and smooth things over, and the old man chuckles at you again.

“Coach Nekomata,” He introduces, “and this is Assistant Coach Naoi. We’re happy to have you.”

You grin, “Thank you! I really hope I stick, so to speak.”

He gestures for you to follow him, so you do, and he leads you over to a set of seats. Coach Naoi does not follow you, instead going over to check up on the boys. He pats the empty one next to him, and you take a seat.

“Tell me about yourself, where you’re from, and your interests.” He says, leaning in intently.

You’re taken aback but recover quickly. Describing your love for animal care, where you came from, and how you got into volleyball. He perks up when you mention coming from Karasuno, and asks a couple of questions about the team. You do your best to reiterate what Tanaka had told you, but you’re not much help since you’re so removed from it now. You do feel a little sad at the loss, but try to remind yourself that your friends haven’t suddenly forgotten about you due to distance. Sugawara’s constant texts asking about Tokyo and Diachi’s reminders to take care of yourself are proof enough of that.

“Our boys are rowdy, but they’re good-hearted. I think you’ll come to love working with them if you give it the time, I know I have.” He says with an air of finality, “Coach Naoi will show you the ropes today, I do hope you decide to stay.”

You give him a shy smile, “Thank you, Sir. I think I’d like to give it a try.”

Another hearty laugh pushes its way out of him, and then he claps his hands together and stands from his seat. Only then do you realize the whole team is changed and ready to begin practice. He waves you over to his side, and you follow him over to Coach Naoi’s side, the boys standing in a half circle around the three of you. Coach Nekomata begins some kind of speech to welcome back the team and get them excited for the coming year, and you take the time to observe the new faces that you’ve yet to see.

First, and most obviously, was a ginormous foreign-looking guy. He had to be at least three heads taller than the other members of the team, and his silver-grey hair and green eyes made him stick out like a sore thumb. Next to him was a kind of cute guy with spiky brown hair and a big smile passively resting on his face. He was one of the boys who waved at you when you passed Yamamoto, which led you to the other kid. He had a black bowl cut and was also awfully smiley, though you’d describe him as more thoughtful-looking than the brown-haired boy. And finally was a boy you recognize passing in the hall once or twice. You’d seen Yamamoto talking with him between classes yesterday, a permanent cat-like look on his face like he was up to no good. There were a couple of others, but they didn’t strike you as interesting – not to be mean. The four of them mixed in with the others you’d met piqued your interest. What kind of players were they? How did they play as a team? Would you be able to fit in with them?

“This young lady here is thinking about being our manager,” Coach Naoi’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts as all eyes fall on you, “do your best to impress her today, and she might just stay.”

Your face heats up, and to hide your embarrassment, you bow and introduce yourself just a little too loud. Luckily, no one comments on it, and they all excitedly bow and welcome you with an eagerness that only teenage boys can have. It reminds you a lot of Karasuno, and your chest warms up at the kindness these boys have afforded you already. You've never managed a team before, and you doubt you’d be any good to start, but you feel the need more than ever to give it your all – if only to make sure their kindness doesn’t go to waste.

Coach Nekomata barks out a few commands for warm-up, and Coach Naoi pulls you to the side to give you a rundown on your responsibilities. Fill water bottles, hand out towels, take notes on the athletes, clean up the balls, and help come up with strategies. Simple things you’d already sort of done before just by proximity to Nishinoya and his love for the sport. Coach Naoi shows you where things are, how best to fill up and transfer multiple water bottles at once, and of course, gives you some reminders of the basics of the game. By the time practice is wrapping up, you can hardly remember why you were so nervous to start. Everything comes so naturally to you, and you mentally make a note to text Kiyoko your thanks for conditioning you later tonight.

You’re so busy learning from Coach Naoi, that you don’t get the chance to talk to any of the team members outside of handing them their towels and water. Kuroo does take the chance to shoot you a thumbs up every chance he gets, which is reassuring. Kenma even smiles at you when you pass him. Every time you pass him actually, without fail. You do your best not to overthink it.

It’s not until you’re picking up balls that you get a chance to talk to some of the other members of the team. Fukunaga – the cat-faced guy – and Inuoka – the spiky-haired cutie – offer their help to you while everyone else cleans up in other places. Inuoka is a first year, and is just as friendly and excitable as you expected, asking all about your interests and happily sharing his when you ask. He’s kind of like a dog amongst cats, which makes him all the more likable in your opinion. Fukunaga the second year on the other hand is more of the quiet observant type, you expect him to be a stone wall, but he is not. He’s actually – pardon your language – fucking hilarious. He has you bursting out laughing with nearly every quip that leaves his mouth. Unfortunately, you don’t get a chance to talk to the others you don’t know, but you learn that the super tall guy is Lev Haiba, who is Russian, though he’s ‘Not cool enough to know the language’ according to Fukunaga. He also was totally brand new to the sport which made sense since he seemed to be way out of his depth. The other was Yuki Shibayama, who Inuoka described as just ‘Nice’ from their interactions at the camp before the semester starting. ‘Nice,’ might’ve been the most vague descriptor possible, but you weren’t gonna give him too hard of a time about it. (Fukunaga did that for you with another jab that had you snickering behind your hand.)

Kenma approached the three of you just as you finished tossing the last of the balls in the basket. You gave him a smile, positioning yourself to face him better.

“Hey Kozume-Senpai,” Inuoka says cheerfully, which makes you feel bad when Kenma’s face doesn’t even shift a little. Jeeze, he was heartless.

“Kuroo wanted me to grab you, you’re on sweeping duty tonight,” he states flatly.

Inuoka groans but obediently jogs over to the broom closet. Only when he’s out of earshot does Fukunaga’s lips twitch up into an almost smile, leaning in to whisper to you, “We don’t assign broom duty.” Then, before you can respond, he walks off casually leaving you and Kenma alone.

“He’s strange,” you comment, still watching him wander away, “but, nice!”

“You don’t have to be so positive about everything,” Kenma responds.

“But I mean it,” you retort, “everyone is so nice. I feel welcomed.”

You begin to put the cart toward the storeroom, and Kenma follows side by side with you. “Everyone is so… cheery. It’s exhausting sometimes.”

“I’m cheery,” you pout, “do I exhaust you?”

The question takes him off guard, his eyebrows lifting in surprise, and then he looks to the floor like he’s considering the question. Again, you do think he’s cute while he’s thinking. His face doesn’t change too much, but there's a subtle furrow in his eyebrows and scrunch of the lips. It’s… charming.

“You’re cheery,” he finally manages, “but… you know when it’s too much. It’s a good thing from you.”

You ignore the nagging part of your brain that wants to ask what that means, and simply smile, “Thanks. And, for the record, your pessimism is kind of a nice thing to have around too.”

His lips quirk at the corners and your heart thrums with pride at the sight. It is quickly interrupted by a throat clearing, and Kuroo is standing behind you already back in his school uniform. He looks more disheveled than usual, and you actually laugh at him this time. He prickles like a pissed-off cat, and you swear you see his hair stand up.

“If you two are done flirting in here, Kenma needs to get changed so we can head out,” He says, annoyed, but somehow still playful about it.

It’s then that you realize you haven’t texted your Dad since practice started. You curse and pull your phone out, pulling up the messages with a frown.

Dad: Let me know when practice is out.

That's all he said, which is significantly worse than a long paragraph about how upset he was. He was angry, but he was also hurt. You groan. The lecture you would get upon returning home was bound to be legendary.

“That looks bad,” Kenma states factually.

You nod, “He’s going to make me feel like shit when I get back.”

“Then let's not waste any more time,” Kuroo announces with two claps, “Go get changed so we can get her home.”

Kenma rolls his eyes but doesn’t do anything else to protest as he moves out of the store room. When he’s gone, Kuroo gives you a weary look, “You all good?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you sigh, “just… frustrating. I’ll be good though.”

He hums, “Did you at least enjoy practice?”

You think back over everything, and you realize… you never ever miss out on texting your dad. The only time you do is when you’re having too much fun with Noya. The comprehension of this draws a little chortle out of you, “Yeah. I had a lot of fun. Who knew menial work like this could be enjoyable?”

“See! I knew you’d be a perfect fit!” He proclaims, “You were all nervous for no reason.”

You scoff, following him as he leads you outside the field house, “You couldn’t have known that I would’ve worked out. I’m practically a stranger.”

Despite your words being a little harsh, he shrugs them off like nothing, “It just… felt right? Like, you know how sometimes you meet someone and you just know you’re gonna be friends. That’s what it felt like with you, especially after seeing how well Kenma took to you.”

You try not to think about Kenma liking you, and consider his words. They echo how you’ve been feeling this whole time, and it feels good to have that reciprocated. “I’ve been thinking the same thing, y’know. I normally don’t… connect well with other people on my own, but for some reason, everything felt natural. Like it was fate.”

“Exactly!” He confirms, “Weird isn’t it?”

“Suuuper weird,” you laugh, “but, it’s nice!”

“You two sound like crazy people,” Kenma says, stepping out of the gym.

“Don’t be rude!” Kuroo defends.

“It is true though, right? Don’t tell me you don’t feel it too,” you insist as the three of you start your walk home.

Kenma gnaws on the thought for a second before responding, “I dunno if I can believe it’s fate or anything like that… but I do like that you were able to fall into place as you have.”

You cannot stop your heart from singing songs at the shy smile on his face. You also cannot decide if this is the universe being cruel or kind to you, but you think you could get used to the giddy feeling in your stomach.

[changbinsboiledegg]

pls do catch-ups for sunoo and jw 🙏

Okay lovely, I’m gonna use your ask for this lol 🫶 thank you for your request :) A bit late but I hope you enjoy!

MDNI!!!!!!!!!

Warnings: thigh riding kink, praise kink, hickeys, making out, smut or suggestive, not sure which to label this as???

Note: obviously if you’re uncomfy with these kinds of topics, don’t read! Anyways, if no one has told you today, ily! 🫶

Linking the Hyung line versions for those of you who haven’t seen them.

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

Thigh riding kink (Hyung line post)

Sunoo

“Almost done already?” Sunoo’s whisper in your ear sent shivers down your spine as you moved your hips faster against his thigh, creating a damp spot on the fabric of his jeans.

“Mmhmm…” you were a mess and he knew this. Sunoo’s hands caressed your hips, waist, and back as he allowed you to ride his thigh, coming undone with each moan that slipped through your lips.

“Next time, we can do more.” Sunoo smiled, watching your facial expressions. You knew you needed to hurry so he wouldn't be late to his dance practice before their concert, but you didn't care at the moment, feeling way too good to even want it to end.

Jungwon

You were pinned against the wall with Jungwon’s thigh between your legs after you had spent the evening full of tension with him.

He waited until you two were going to be 100% alone, pressing you against the wall and crashing his lips to yours.

He was unaware of your thigh riding kink until his thigh was between your legs and the soft whimper you let out upon contact.

“Is there a reason you're so needy tonight?” Jungwon asked, pecking your jaw next to your ear.

“No…” You were at a loss for words, slightly rubbing yourself against his thigh. He chuckled as his hands slid down to your hips, moving you against his thigh.

“No? Because I think I know the reason now.”

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

Praise kink (Hyung Line post)

Sunoo

“You’re so perfect. Always so amazing to me.” Sunoo praised, tracing the skin on your arm, giving you a fond look.

“Hey, you are perfect too. You always sound so pretty with the sounds you make.” You praised him back, knowing he loved it too.

Sunoo felt his cheeks heat up, and the desire that was there moment prior, had risen back up.

“Wow…” He breathed out, a smile painting his face prettily. You found yourself smiling with him, your thumb gently rubbing against his cheek.

“Always such a good boy, huh?” you knew what you were doing, but so did he.

Jungwon

He’s always praising you, not knowing how much it turns you on hearing him simply appreciate you.

That didn’t stop him when he did find out though.

“My angel, you make me so proud.” Jungwon came up behind you, whispering in your ear while out at a party together.

He knew what saying that would get you going, and he was correct, watching you slightly squirm, trying to keep yourself together.

“You’re so good at pretending you don’t want me.” He winked, still whispering so no one near could hear him.

You fought hard, trying not to melt at his words.

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

Hickeys (Reader giving) (Hyung Line post)

Sunoo

The moment you mentioned wanting to give him a hickey, he’d be on board, wanting you to mark him up.

Little did you know, he already had an excuse planned for if, and when, someone noticed the marks and asked about them.

“How many should I give you?” You asked after the first hickey was left on his neck. Sunoo thought for a few seconds, a slight smirk on his face.

“Keep going until you feel like it’s enough. I'm all yours.” Sunoo’s smirk grew, giving you full reign of his skin.

The next day, with a ton of hickeys on his body, he had used markers and different colors of eyeshadow and eyeliner to draw around them, making them look like a form of art— even if it was strange for him to suddenly draw on his body.

No one suspected a thing when the makeup artists and Sunoo himself tried to wash and wipe off the marker and makeup, thinking the hickeys were caused by smears and how rough they needed to wiped the makeup off.

Jungwon

“Anything for you.” Jungwon always said when you asked for something, no matter what it was.

Even giving him a hickey, he let you. But just one, which was fine by you because you didn't feel the need to mark him multiple times for your first time with him.

Just one, and it was on the crook of his neck, not too big, but definitely not small. Even his hoodie couldn't hide it completely.

“Wow.” Jungwon looked at it in the mirror later. It was right before the guys were going to meet up with him and right after you left. His heart started to race, a mixture of the memories from when he was receiving the hickey and the slight panic from knowing the guys would see it if they looked at him too long.

“This is going to be fun.” Jungwon nervously thought to himself, hearing the doorbell ring.

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

Hickeys (Idol! Reader receiving) (Hyung Line post)

Sunoo

The hickey he gave you was an accident. He intended to kiss your neck. He intended to suck on your neck after each kiss.

But he didn't mean to suck hard enough to leave a sizeable hickey in it’s wake.

“Sunoo…” you were staring at it through your phone camera, shocked that he did this in the first place. “I don’t have makeup with me right now!”

Sunoo was confused at first on why you were worried about makeup, but as he got closer to you, he saw his mark.

“Do you need makeup?” He asked, wondering where and why you would need it right away. You put your phone down, looking at him.

“I have a photo shoot in ten minutes!” You crossed your arms. Sunoo laughed a little to relieve any tension, “then why didn't you tell me?”

Jungwon

“I am so so sorry!” Jungwon wasn't sorry about giving you the hickey.

He was sorry that it got you in trouble with your manager. If he could, he'd give you more and he wouldn't care he saw.

But this was your career and he didn't want you to get in trouble, whether it risked your career or not. He certainly didn't want your manager to force you to breakup with him.

“Don’t worry, he’ll get over it.” You reassured Jungwon, who seemed more panicked than you about getting you in trouble. The hickey was covered in makeup so skillfully that it was almost as if it was never there.

“But you were talking to him for a while, are you sure?” Jungwon asked, the worry was evident in his tone.

You cupped his cheeks and kissed him, easing his worries, “I'm sure. My manager isn't strict like that. He just doesn't want me getting caught in a scandal.”

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

Favorite body parts on their partner (Hyung Line post)

Sunoo

SFW: okay, as weird as this sounds, I think his favorite would be your nose. Like Jay, I think he’s a nose booper too, except more intense. Bops your nose (softly & with care) with his lips, finger, stuffed animals, even got to the point where he has to catch you off guard because you’ve started to block his attempts to touch your nose in any way. He just loves the shape and thinks it’s very cute regardless of your feelings about your nose.

NSFW: fingers. Hands down. (No pun intended?) if we’re head canoning rn, he strikes me as a finger sucker. I'm sorry, I see him as a sub, like y’all would have to provide hard evidence otherwise. Back to your fingers, catch them in his mouth while he’s looking up at you, waiting for the next move. Alternatively, he loves the feel of your fingers on him and how pretty they look needily touching him.

Jungwon

SFW: Arms. Arms. Arms. He loves your arms around him, holding him, hugging him, he just loves your arms. He feels his safe place is in your arms and always looks forward to feeling them around him. Every time he thinks of you, his thoughts always center around the feeling of how you held him and the words you two spoke while he was in your arms. (Take a shot for how many times I’ve said ‘arms’ lmao)

NSFW: Alright, my immediate thought when thinking of what his favorite body part of yours is was hips. Out in public? His arms are around/ resting on your hips. In private? Hands. On your hips. :). Y’all know the drill, he’d be pretty handsy when it comes to your hips. It’s his favorite part to grip because it keeps you in place while you’re squirming too much :))))) BYE.

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

Note 2: I’m sorry, if we‘re still head canoning rn, I would like to say I believe Sunoo has/would have a praise kink too. Like y’all can’t convince me otherwise unless you provide solid evidence.

Tagging: @peonywon

[theowlgoesmoo]

Oh no.

Oh no, oh no, oh NO.

How could she be so STUPID?

Dot stared through the gap in the fence in despair, watching the vest fall into the pen.

Right outside the cavern dug into the back.

The cavern dug out by that… thing.

Thumper.

The pen was built at the back of the sombrero, and was massive. It consisted of a half-circle of dried, wooden boards lashed together, used more to serve as a marker to stay back than to keep the beast contained.

That's what the cave was for.

It hadn't been there when the pen was first built, Molt had told her. Thumper had made it himself, seemingly out of frustration.

“It was like he wanted to hurt the ground, kid. Ya shoulda seen that dirt fly.”

All around the mouth of the cave were remains of Thumper's unfortunate meals: Scraps of cloth. Bits of carapace. A half-chewed antenna…

It was something out of a nightmare.

“We ain't meat-eaters, kid. I know we're all big and scary and stuff, but we don't eat other bugs. Not Thumpa though. Somethin’ broke in his head. Now that's all he eats. Course he can't digest it too well, so he always looks all sick and thin. I think Hop likes him that way.”

No sane bug would ever go in there. Not willingly. Not if they at all valued their carapaces.

Dot did value hers however, and the only way to preserve it… was to go inside the pen.

It was a cruel irony, but one she had brought on herself in a moment of frustration. Not unjustified frustration, but she had lost her temper, and was now paying for it.

“He wasn't always like that, kid. Can you believe that? Used to be as sane as you and me. ‘Course he was still mean as a nest of starvin’ hornets, and as vicious. Hop used to use him as his enforcer. He didn't eat people back then, but he might as well have. Was about as clean.”

Dot could think of a million places safer than being on the other side of that fence, including a nest full of starving hornets. But she knew if she didn't act, it wouldn't be her own head on the line.

Hopper knew about her friendship with Molt, and brother or not, promise to his mother or not, Dot had no doubt in her mind that Hopper would punish her friend if she messed up.

She couldn't betray Molt like that, not after all he'd done for her. Not after he proved to be the one decent bug for miles around. She wouldn't let Hopper hurt him because of her.

But the only way to stop that was by crossing the fence.

She pricked her antennae up, listening for the faintest hint of the monster. The quietest snarl, the soft crunch of sand under a stalking foot, the hungry panting of an excited predator…

But nothing. Not a trace of him.

“I know you ain't stupid enough to do this, but don't go anywhere near that pen, alright? Don't let him see you, heck don't let him SMELL you! Don't even stand upwind of him if ya can. Hop wasn't bluffing, he LOVES the taste of ant, and I like ya too much to let him have ya, princess.”

Not a trace of him that she could see or hear, that was. She could smell him plenty alright.

It almost made her gag.

Dot did not care for the smell of grasshoppers. At all. Not these ones anyway.. but it was one thing to have to smell a pair of long johns that had been worn for three days while their owner refused to leave the cantina, and it was now your job to clean.

It was quite another thing to breathe in the air around Hopper's pet cannibal.

“Oh yeah, he's a cannibal alright, kid. Hop likes to get rid of guys who let him down by puttin’ em on ‘feeding duty.’ Yeah. They're the food. Same one he keeps threatenin’ you with.”

“Aww, kid, hey, sorry. Come here. I ain't gonna let him do that to ya. You can trust your ol’ pal Molt.”

“That better? Yeah, you're a tough little tyke, ain't ya? But hey, listen. There's somethin’ you REALLY gotta know about Thumpa…”

Rotting meat was a very rare smell in Amberhive. Meat in general was a rare sight in the colony, usually limited to roast aphids and treehoppers, and even then, usually only during the winter and holidays. The ants viewed them as delicacies, and would never dream of wasting them.

But accidents do happen, and Dot had the misfortune of smelling rotten meat before when a treehopper leg had rolled under a decorative cabinet behind the royal family’s table and not been noticed by the cleaners.

It wasn't a smell she would soon forget.

And that was nothing compared to the reeking miasma surrounding Thumper's pen. The sick, sweet stink of decay was everywhere. She tried to pull the collar of her undershirt up to use as a makeshift face mask, but it wouldn't stretch up enough. She'd just have to try not to breathe in more than she had to.

She reached up, grabbing the highest rail she could and pulling herself up, climbing the fence like a rickety ladder

“He may look it, but Thump's not a brainless monsta. He's got that, oh, what do ya call it, ‘animal cunning’. He's tricky, kid.”

She lifted her leg, climbing up another railing. Despite the broiling desert heat, she shivered. Her hand slipped, and she yelped, almost falling off the fence. She caught herself just at the last minute, clinging to the dried twig like her life depended on it.

She supposed it did, in a way.

Just stay on the other side, it’ll be fine. Some tiny voice in the back of her mind insisted. Pleaded, really. Hopper won’t mind too much! He won’t REALLY hurt you. Or Molt. He’ll probably just yell and stomp his foot and make a show of it.

She scoffed, huffing.

“Yeah, and maybe Aphie will learn to talk and blow bubbles from his-”

Any further snark was drowned out by a booming thrumming filling the air. Dot squealed, this time falling off the fence and landing in the sand. She looked up, seeing a cloud of grasshoppers flying far above her.

Hopper was leaving again, and this time he seemed to be taking most of the gang.

Dot craned her head back, watching the swarm fly off far into the distance, a plague ready to descend on some unfortunate farmstead or town, she was sure. She guessed the meeting had ended.

She stood up, brushing herself off, a little cloud of dust coming off her dress. Alright, take two. She hoisted herself back up on the fence, climbing up it.

Wait… wait a minute…

If Hopper was leaving, and taking most - maybe even ALL - of his gang with him… Wouldn’t he take Thumper?

Maybe he had already retrieved his “pet.” She didn’t know how long he’d been in the hideout. She and Molt had been out for a while doing the laundry, and Hopper wasn’t exactly the sort to stop by and say hello to his little brother. Or her.

She smiled, feeling a huge weight off her chest.

Thumper wasn’t here! Of course he wasn’t! If Hopper was taking that many grasshoppers, he’d NEVER leave his attack dog behind!

Feeling light as a dandelion puff, Dot climbed up the fence posts. She practically leapt from rail to rail, climbing it as easily as a clover stalk.

She felt silly. All this time she’d been afraid of nothing! Of course she would have heard Thumper snarling and screaming if he was here, ESPECIALLY if he could smell her. He’d be going crazy if he knew she was around.

But she hadn’t heard a peep from him. Not even the faintest hiss from the mad cannibal.

She hopped down from the fence, landing with a little ‘oof’. No, she was alone in here. Well, alone with the remains of the “meals” Hopper had thrown to his pet.

She tried not to look too closely at them, trying to pretend they were just weirdly-shaped rocks. It wasn’t hard, given how Thumper had torn them up. They weren’t immediately recognizable. No… not Immediately.

And there it was. Hopper’s vest. The one she had so foolishly almost lost, waiting for her right by the mouth of Thumper’s cavern.

She knew he wasn’t there, but still, a tingle ran up her spine. This place… this place was evil. She could feel it in her very soul. Horrible, horrible things had happened where she stood.

“Just grab the vest and get out, Dot.” She muttered, hugging herself. Thirty seconds, that’s all it would take.

She’d grab the vest. She’d take it to the lake, get it cleaned up. Maybe Molt would come back down. Hopper probably didn’t take him along, she would bet. They’d hang out more, put this whole thing behind them. Then they’d go to the cantina, be able to share a meal, not have the gang around to make things more miserable than they already were.

She’d take the rest of the day off. Maybe nap in the shade, snag a few more grains to snack on throughout the afternoon, try and put all her fears and worries behind her.

Yes. Yes, that’s what she’d do. She’d make the most of it, try and enjoy the rest of her day, especially with the gang gone.

“Yeah, tricky. I know, crazy right? The guy’s nuts, all that snappin’ and bitin’ and ‘graaawr, grr!’ and stuff, right? But don’t let that fool ya, kid. He’s nuts, and he’s scary as all heck, but he’s smart.”

She steeled herself, getting closer and closer to the vest. The sand crunched beneath her feet, each footfall sending a jolt up her spine.

He… He wasn’t here. She had to keep telling herself that. She knew that. She KNEW that. Hopper had taken him. Just grab the vest and go, Dot. Don’t be such a baby.

Just…

A little…

Closer…

“Don’t let him make ya think ya safe. That’s when he’s most dangerous. I’d tell ya stories, but I don’t think ya wanna hear ‘em.”

She bent down, holding her breath, and not just from the rancid, sweet stink all around her.

Her fingers clutched the silvery silk fabric of the vest, grabbing it by the broad shoulder.

“Promise me, alright kiddo? Promise me ya ain’t gonna go near that pen. I don’t care why, I don’t care what my brudda says to ya.”

“Don’t. Go. In.”

Something moved. Something moved in the cave. Dot froze, eyes wide in sheer, mortal terror.

He hadn’t taken him.

Hopper had left him here.

No… No, no no no!

A thin, long arm, covered with spines reached out from the darkness. The hand at the end had three slender, crooked fingers, each tipped with a curved claw.

Then another arm.

Then another.

And finally, a face. A face Dot had seen time and time again in her nightmares since she had been brought here.

It was thin. Skull-like, even, with big bulging sickly eyes. It barely had a chin, and its lips seemed permanently curled back, as if they weren’t there at all.

And it was staring right at her, grinning maliciously, its mouth full of knife-like fangs. She whispered soundlessly as she stared into those manic, predatory eyes.

He was here. He was here and he was staring right at her.

“Thumper...”

[darkness-and-books]

Saving Spock’s Eyebrows

Y/N is in there for a bit, but Spirk is kinda the star of the show here.

Inspired by this pin

⚠️: none

word count: 2,121

The words “OH MY GOD!!! I AM SO SORRY, SPOCK!!!!” ringing through the engineering deck, were simultaneously terrifying and sort of hilarious. Despite their previous engagements, every engineer came running, mostly because the words were preceded several seconds by a loud clang and what sounded like an engine blowing up. Sure they all cared about Spock too, but the reason the Enterprise still flies is because there's a whole crew of people who consider this ship their wife/baby. In mere moments Y/N and Spock were surrounded by a sea of redshirts and a chorus of, “What the hell happened?!?!” and , “What did you do to the ship?!?!” but it all stopped when Spock and Y/N turned to face them all. “Mhm,” Y/N cleared their throat and blushed, “Mr. Spock was just supervising my rerouting of the iron gluon centrifuges, when I hit my head trying to answer one of his questions,” Y/N explained shamefully, but still loud enough for everyone to hear. The surrounding crew burst into fits of stitch ripping laughter, “What, may I ask is so funny?” Spock inquired. Scotty spoke up over the crew men’s raucous laughter, “Ye laddies, ‘ave no eyebrows!” He shouted the information from somewhere within the crowd, Y/N instantly went to feel their face. Much to their own horror, Y/N found that Scotty wasn’t lying, the look of terror subsided for a moment when they realised that Scotty said neither of them had eyebrows. Y/N slowly looked over to spock, who was clearly raising his now nonexistent eyebrows. They did their damnedest not to laugh at him as they said, “He’s right!” Spock's lip curled slightly upward in a slight smile, “It would seem so,” He stated in an amused voice that very few would actually recognise as amused. They were both ordered to go down to medbay by Scotty, who insisted it was “Because you may have been affected by the combustion in some way we can’t see,” but Y/N was fairly certain that Scotty just wanted to give everyone between here and the medbay a good laugh. “What the hell happened to you!” McCoy shot through fits of laughter as they both walked into the room. “Engineering accident,” Y/N stated without hesitation or humour. They didn’t even bother staying and instead went down to the bridge to get it over with. Upon stepping off of the turbo lift and entering the bridge, Kirk turned around and was about to say something, but it dissipated into hearty laughter. Once his laughter stopped, Jim looked genuinely concerned, getting up to wrap his arms around Spock, “Are you okay, Sweetheart?” He asked Spock, still trying not to laugh as he placed a kiss where Spock’s eyebrow had been. “I’m quite fine, I assure you,” Spock informed with a light green blush painted over his face. Jim’s face lit up with unmistakable mischief, “I could help, you know!” He exclaimed in complete and earnest glee. “Help with what, might I ask?” Spock asked with an attempted brow raise. “Put your eyebrows back,” Kirk replied as though his meaning were a given, “I don’t believe that will be necessary,” Spock nodded curtly. “No, no, please!” Jim pleaded desperately, “I promise, I can’t make it worse!” Jim reasoned. “He’s got you there,” Y/N pointed out with a chuckle, “You already have no eyebrows, what’s the worst that could happen?” Y/N asked innocently.

-Famous last words-

The next morning Spock came down to the officers’ mess with orange eyebrows, one of which must have been placed a solid quarter of an inch higher than the other, giving him a permanent look of concern. “Oh god!” Y/N howled from beside Scotty, “How did this happen?!?” Y/N asked as Scotty laughed loud enough to almost cover the question. “I believe the captain called them Crayola markers,” Spock said and raised an eyebrow, making it now level with the other one. “Don't be so surprised!” Scotty bellowed as Spock sat down across from the two of you. Spock was shortly followed by Jim, “Ah, and I assume that this is our own aspiring Picasso,” Y/N jeered as he took his seat next to spock. “At least his masterpiece is washable,” Scotty commented as he took in a drink of water.

-Mission Save The Vulcan Brows (so deemed by the captain himself) Day 2-

“Uhura, can I borrow your makeup?” Kirk asked her, “Still trying to fix his brows?” Uhura asked as casually as she could possibly manage, but some of her intense curiosity peaked through the facade. “Yeah,” He admitted sheepishly, “At least you’re using stuff meant for his face this time,” She sighed and handed him her makeup bag. “Thanks Uhura, you’re a lifesaver!” Kirk exclaimed as he ran off, “No, just a protector of brows everywhere!” She called after him. “Spock!” Jim called him from the nearest comm he could find, “Yes, captain?” The question came in slightly fuzzy, “I have the next solution! Meet me in my quarters,” Jim playfully ordered. “Alright, Jim, I believe I’m ready to know what your plan is,” Spock said, trying not to smile too much. “This!” Jim explained, without really explaining anything as he dumped Uhura’s makeup bag out onto his bed. “Do you know what any of these things are for?” Spock inquired, concern seeping into his tone as he scanned the alarming number of products scattered around the bed. “Not exactly, but we’ll learn together!” Jim exclaimed in such a way that Spock really couldn’t say no to this. “Let’s try this!” Jim said, holding up a flat and angled makeup brush that he thought looked perfect for recreating the generally very sharp shape of Spock’s brows. He dug around the products a little longer before coming to a colour palette that had a shade of black that Jim thought to be at least somewhat similar to his hair colour. “Okay, this looks like it’ll work,” Jim said more to himself than his boyfriend as he climbed into Spock’s lap to begin doing his makeup. “Hold still,” Kirk told Spock in a hushed tone as he dipped the brush generously into the black pigment. He started with drawing the inner end of the left brow, and tried pulling the colour out to create the bottom of the brow, which he tried to do evenly three times before he gave up because the brow had already become substantially thicker than he meant it to be. Moving to do the right brow, he took a different approach, pinching Spock’s face a little bit to feel where his brow usually sat and just filling in that space instead. While Jim’s theory for the right brow seemed like a good idea, the result was an alright looking human eyebrow, which did not at all match the incredibly dense looking Vulcan brow he had drawn on the left side of Spock’s forehead. Jim’s face fell as he scrutinised his work, “What is it, Jim?” Spock asked, raising an eyebrow (The one that at least looked kinda Vulcan), “I think I’ve done it wrong,” Kirk in a downtrodden tone. “I’m sure you did fine,” Spock assured, giving Jim’s hand a gentle kiss. Jim nervously handed Spock the compact mirror from Uhura’s things, Spock opened it and looked at himself in the small mirror. He laughed, “It’s fine,” Spock told Jim with a kiss on the lips, “Are you sure, I could try it again,” Jim offered, “No, it’s fine, I have duties to attend to at the moment,” Spock assured and informed. “Okay,” Jim conceded and slipped out of Spock’s lap to let him go. Spock walked out of Kirk’s quarters and the first person who saw him was Bones, “Oh my, thank god!” Bones smiled as he looked up as if actually blessed by god himself. “Your human half is showing!” Bones said with glee as he wiggled his eyebrows.

-Mission Save The Vulcan Brows, Day 3 (alternately titled: Trimming Tribbles)

To Jim there was exactly one good thing that came from being infested with Tribbles- their hair. Nobody has any clue how, but Jim managed to get one to stop reproducing and hold still long enough to trim it. Turns out those little things have so much fur for a reason, they’re real disturbing buggers underneath all that hair. Running to Spock’s quarters, Jim was now holding a plastic bag full of Tribble fur, with a new idea in mind. He punched the code into the keypad on Spock’s quarters, barging into the room, Spock looked up from his book. It was still so strange for Jim to see him without any eyebrows, he didn’t think it would make that much of a difference, but it did. “Another plan, Captain?” Spock asked teasingly, “In fact, I have!” Kirk replied, rather pleased with himself as he held up the tribble hair. At this point Spock just let the pieces fall where they may because Jim seemed to be having a good time with the whole thing. “Alright,” Spock agreed and stood from his chair to move to his bed. Much like before, Jim climbed into Spock’s lap, but this time he pulled a small bottle of glue out of the bag. Spock tried not to show it, but with the addition of glue the stakes seemed rather high and he was growing concerned at the prospect of whatever might happen. Jim unscrewed the top of the glue and used applicator inside to paint far too much glue on the spaces where Spock's eyebrows usually resided. Jim put the lid back on the glue and began to carefully press the fur to Spock's face, this process didn't take him nearly as long as trying to draw them on. When Jim was done he pulled back just a few inches to see the entirety of his work. His eyebrows furrowed together and the colour drained from his face as he saw his work in full. His eyes widened as he realised something more, "I uh, don't actually know how to remove this," Jim choked on his words as tears began to prick the corners of his eyes. "Oh, no, no, no, T'hy'la," Spock cooed, "I'm sure it's alright, I really don't care what it looks like. Did you have fun?" Spock prompted, Jim chuckled quietly as Spock swept the tears away from his face. "Alright," Spock sighed, in a joking manner, "Show me the damage," He requested and Jim walked him to the bathroom mirror. Spock took one look in the mirror and started to laugh, and not just a little bit either, but full body shaking as he doubled over and white knuckled the edge of the sink. "It's not that bad, is it?" Jim asked, "No, just a bit surprising," Spock informed as he straightened up to look at himself in the mirror again, his newly installed eyebrows were altogether the wrong colour, and the hairs were far too long. "Perhaps," Spock began, making eye contact with Jim through the mirror, "This ought to be the end of your mission, captain," Spock suggested, "I guess," Jim agreed. It took Spock many, many more showers to finish washing all the Tribble fur off of his face.

-Project Shine-

"Y/N!" Jim quietly pestered them during lunch. "Yes, Jim?" They acknowledged through a bite of their sandwich. "Have you got any rhinestones?!?" Jim asked with a glimmer in his eyes. "Yes, why?" Y/N asked, not particularly inclined to hand them over to the suspicious captain. Jim just wiggled his eyebrows and winked, Y/N got the message, "ah, they're all yours," they responded. After lunch Y/N delivered blue Rhine stones and makeup glue directly to Jim's quarter and found, unsurprisingly, that Spock was there too. "Special delivery," Y/N announced when Jim answered the door. "Come in, come in!" He ushered them through the door. "Spock" Jim sing songed, "Yes, Jim?" Spock asked from where he sat on the couch. "Just one more?" Jim pleaded, "Fine, but please only one more," Spock bargained, "Just one more!" Jim instantly agreed at the hint of getting his way. Spock moved to sit at the table with Jim and Y/N. "Here," Jim started, "You get the left brow while I get the right one," Jim directed Y/N.

Not five minutes later they had finished the job, and were quite proud of themselves too. This had been Spock's best set of replacement eyebrows yet. "Best to end the mission on a high note," Y/N commented as they looked over Spock's new and shiny brows.

Bonus scene: Spock was walking down the hall when, "I knew you had a little sugar in the tank, but I think this is a bit much for you," Bones commented.

Here, have some doodles I did while writing this.

[tonberry-yoda]

Brrrrr

HELI ANON REPORTING TO- duty-?

H i i ii i

I may or may not be addicted to your writing and its on yu 😤

Down to business 👹

Crocman's wife walking into the living room to see what the father son duo is up to bc it was too quiet

She walked in to see a crocodile who fell asleep holding their son who was fully awake while also holding a storybook

W e l l his son was doodling on his father's face like an artist 😌

I like it picasso 💪

And then much later when reader returned with a camera,

Their son was asleep holding uncapped marker pen with some smudges on his face

After reader left them be, when she passed by again

She saw crocodile awake and obliviously drawing on their sons face unaware of the doodles on his own face

So precious 🥺

you can add much more or yes like usual

Enjoy your day officer 💪💪💪💪

hello my dear helicopter anon! you dont understand how excited i get when you request, literally my favorite writings to do ngl. AND BRO THIS IDEA IS SO GOOD! literally my sister and i were just adoring this idea the moment you sent it! thank you so much for making this series my thing on this account and bro, if you have any baby names for croc's son, let me know because i cant think lol. thanks so much!!! <3333

Croc as a father part 5!!!

Pairing - Crocodile x reader

Warnings - none!

Word Count - 649

Notes - (image below not mine) thank you so much again! i seriously love all of your ideas, you are so creative and amazing! i hope you have a super day and enjoy this as much as i do!!! stay hydrated helicopter anon!! <3

And don’t forget REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!! So, if you want to request any writing, don’t hesitate to ask. Please read my pinned post before requesting though. Have a good day/night and please stay hydrated!! <333

“Darling,” you began flipping through some mail, finding quite a few letters addressed to your husband. “You have a couple letters in the mail. Did you want me to put them on your-”

You paused as you stepped into the living room to find your husband fast asleep and your son wide awake on his lap. Usually, you would think nothing of this but a wholesome moment. What really made you pause were the drawings on Crocodile’s face that were made by your son. There was a drawing of Mihawk and Buggy, a drawing of you, and a drawing of one of the banana gators. You couldn't help but chuckle a bit. You knew you should be getting onto your son, but you just couldn't help it.

“Mamma!” Your child giggled and put his arms up for a hug.

You walked over trying not to giggle at the picture book open on your husband’s large chest, and hugged your son. “Shush baby,” you whispered, placing a kiss onto his forehead. “Daddy’s sleeping.”

Your son giggled and crawled back onto his father’s chest, handing you the picture book that he didn't need anymore.

“Are you gonna stay with daddy, bubba?” You put the book back in its proper cubby and he nodded, laying on his dad’s chest.

“Mhm. Daddy’s warm when he sleeps.” He sleepily lifted up the marker in his hand and drew a small smiley face on Crocodile’s face. You decided it would be best to leave them be for now so you could get some work done around the house.

It wasn't long before your chores led you to the living room where you found your son now fast asleep on his father. His face was pressed to Crocodile’s big chest while Crocodile softly snored, his son drooling on his bare chest.

---

You looked around the house, satisfied with your work.

Damn you were good.

The house was squeaky clean and there wasn't a child up and running about to mess it up. You definitely deserved a treat after that.

You grabbed yourself the nearest chocolate bar and realized that it had been a while since you checked up on the boys.

You went to step into the living room, but quickly stepped out, peeking back in to find Crocodile giggling to himself and drawing all over his son’s face with the washable marker that your son had used prior to draw on Crocodile’s face.

You giggled and stepped in the room, eating away at your chocolate bar. “Good morning, darling.” You pressed a kiss onto Crocodile’s lips and he chuckled, pointing at the smiley face he drew on his son’s face.

“Morning. I just saw this marker and it seems to be safe on skin, so I thought it would be funny.”

You laughed and sat on the floor next to the couch. “I would hope it's safe for skin. You should see your face, dear.”

Crocodile froze. “What?”

You giggled and ran out of the room to the bathroom where you found a handheld mirror. You ran back to the living room and showed your husband his face and he couldn't help but burst into laughter, startling your son awake in the process.

Your son just giggled and hit Crocodile’s big chest, making a soft boom sound. “Dada! You woke me up!”

“Sorry buddy.” Crocodile placed a small kiss on his son’s forehead. “Let's go wash this marker off, huh?”

“Yeah dada! You look funny.” Your son giggled and Crocodile stood up, helping you off of the floor as well.

“You look funny too, kiddo.”

You showed your son the mirror and he burst out laughing just like his dad. You slicked back his jet black hair. There was no mistaking that that was Crocodile’s son.

The two of them giggled all the way to the bathroom leaving you smiling and satisfied with your day.

[kinaesthetiqueer]

the thing about loving nora so damn much is that i legally have to Make Her Go Through It. sometimes though, it feels so so so mean. however. i have to make my headcanons make sense from top to bottom.

so. per my headcanons on how her semblance works... once she was struck by lightning and her semblance unlocked, her passive ability unlocked too. rather than dissapating the tiny bits of electricity that her body naturally produces, like everyone else does, her body stores them. it's up to nora as to how she can deal with it.

before she gets a handle on it, she's a walking static producer. ever walked around in socks on carpet in the winter? she's like that, all the time. discharging whenever she touches anything that can conduct electricity. some of the less helpful instructors at tocsin (the vale combat school that my ren and nora attended from ages 13-17) force nora to wear rubber gloves when she's in class.

this, of course, doesn't actually help. she's still storing it up. nora copes by energizing herself with the excess electricity and just. Being Hyper. she always has been excitable but now she just bounces off the walls, because she doesn't know how else to spend the energy outside of combat.

ren doesn't know how to help her either. his semblance is strictly defensive/supportive. he has always been under intense stress to make sure he keeps it under control. they aren't on the streets anymore but nora feels compelled to make sure, should they ever end up there again, that she can pull more weight when it comes to keeping them safe.

if nora is worked up or stressed, she starts sparking. arcs of electricity come off her skin and they can hurt whoever gets close. it's a easy way to help her discharge, if you can get a grounded lightning rod close enough.

other lesser signs that she's not quite keeping it under wraps are, in order of increased severity: increased fidgeting/stimming (hilarious as a marker, as she's audhd af), static field as observed by her hair strands lifting up as if rubbed by a balloon, indigestion & nausea (too much energy messing with peristalsis); uncontrollable hiccups (excess electricity causing her diaphragm to spasm), and finally, the sparking.

these first two markers goes pretty much unnoticed by nora herself, though the rest of jnpr is pretty good at noticing when her hair starts going flyaway. ren can tell the difference between normal nora fidgets and too much energy! nora fidgets at a glance. when nora gets so bad that these side effects show, she tends to skip indigestion and nausea and go straight to hiccuping. rarely, like if she's in an argument with someone who doesn't know her well enough to point out her hair, she might reach the indigestion stage (for example, cordovin). however, hiccups come on fast when she's having a breakdown. they are her major sign that she needs to find some way to calm down and rein in her semblance.

she has two choices for doing so: sequestering it for later (a choice she makes when she's likely to be in combat soon) or discharging.

sequestering (storing) it requires her to rein in the electricity and sink it into her muscles. typically this means her thigh and butt muscles, as they are the largest. she creates a circuit of circulating electricity deep in her muscles and they slowly store the energy for later. (don't ask me about the biology here unless you want to be here all night; that is a promise, not a threat). she can also then use it to jump and leap. this is also why she skips so much!

storing/sequestering is what nora refers to as "sinking". it's not a term she really explains to anyone. in fact, she loathes explaining her semblance to people. firstly, no one expects her to understand how her semblance works, because she's hyper and bubbly and girly. secondly, people tend to get weirded out and wary of her when she explains, at least they did at tocsin. ren loves that she knows how both hers and his works.

she gets a lot of confidence and joy from it as jnpr works in private to train for the vytal festival, because jaune and pyrrha think her semblance is super cool. by the time vytal comes around, she's just stoked to be able to show off for the first time, since jaune decided they should keep it a secret until then.

on the other hand, discharging it is exactly what it seems. it's what she does when she doesn't need the extra energy or wants to be sure she's safe to touch others. she can discharge into the air (which causes a thunderclap of varying decibels, depending on how much electricity she discharges) or into the ground or to any grounded source. she can also do this offensively by throwing a bolt or striking something with precision.

after spending most of her time at tocsin wearing gloves, she keeps them in her beacon outfit, though fingerless, because she likes to comfort and the compression, but also she likes to know she's capable of safely touching people.

the mean thing that i was thinking of, which prompted this post, was nora being threatened with, and perhaps once subjected to, tocsin's cruelest 'therapy' which is to forcibly break a student's aura so that their semblance won't hurt anyone until they get it under control. which. may or may not have happened to her when she took a shower while charged, knocking out tocsin's campus water plant and electrocuting anyone who was also taking a shower at the same time. 🙃

anyways. i want to write a series of oneshots and drabbles that contains all my headcanons for the main kids' semblances and how they work and how they've adapted to them over time. im just a big sucker for logistics and after blake's semblance driving me batshit for months, i think it's what i deserve.

[hotxcheeto]

━ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓 𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐒

𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜(𝙨) - Jinx x G/N!Reader

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 - Cursing? A lot of fluff

𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙛𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 ? - Yeah/Nope

𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧'𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚 - An idea I had like a month ago

☆ 𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 - Jinx was bored and you were working, so instead of bothering you like usual, she tries a new way of keeping herself busy. And it seems to work, almost too well.

Jinx wouldn't like when you worked for long periods of time, no it drove her crazy actually. Literally and figuratively.

So each time you did, she'd find a way to linger about, talking your ear off or coloring beside you. Claiming it was just as important as your papers for Silco and you were inclined to agree.

You kept each one in your tiny little office room as well, she'd hang them up herself and show you proudly.

But some days those things weren't enough. And she'd still be bored. Complaining and poking at you, but you never got mad.

"Trinket!" Came a sing-songy voice tearing you from your paperwork but you didn't turn around, scribbling something down as the sound of chunky boots waltzed up and behind you.

"Whatcha' doin'?" Her arms wrapped around your neck, nails tickling your bare upper arms and over the black ink decorating your flesh. "Working, Jinx." "Boring. We should go somewhere or cuddle or.." "I can't right now bug." You looked up at her, the girl huffing in disappointment, blowing a piece of her blue hair.

"Can't you just skip it?" "It's for Silco, Jinx. Unless you want me dead?" She scoffed at that, pushing herself onto your lap while you dodged messing up the paper while she got comfortable.

"I won't let him." "I like your attitude bug..." She leaned down kissing the corner of your mouth while you smiled. "..but I gotta finish these. I'm almost done." She groaned much louder this time, looking at you continuing to write the report.

She thought about snatching the pen away from you and throwing it.

Though Jinx laughed at that, out loud in fact, gathering your attention to her as you raised an eyebrow.

She muttered a few things, gaining yet another glance at her but she was off in her own world. It wasn't unusual that she was, but her eyes had cemented themselves on your tattooed arms, tracing the lines with her pink nail.

Until then an idea popped into her head and she hurriedly moved to leave your side, much to your disappointment.

But it wasn't long until she returned but you'd gotten so sucked into your work you didn't feel it until her cold breath blew against your flesh, and it felt wet.

"Jinx?" You turned your head, seeing her blowing on a blue patch on your skin. It looked nice against your skin tone, Jinx's markers more like paint pens giving it the pop it needed to show up.

"Do you like it?" She asked, not giving you a chance to respond with your answer before she continued on with another color. Now noticing the clutch she had on a group of them in her other hand.

"Yeah.." You muttered watching her continue to fill in the tattoo with bright ink and pull away to admire her work. "It's cold though." You chuckled as she blew on it getting it to dry faster.

"You're gonna look great!" "Are you saying I don't look great now?" She looked at you almost offended before lazily gazing at your face, tilting her head in just the slightest.

"No. You always look great." She said, a bit quiet. "Thank you, as do you." You didn't noticed when you looked away, but she didn't take her eyes off of you after, not for a moment.

Then you felt her continue and you swore with every stroke of the marker you relaxed further.

Up and down, up and down. Then she began to trace another outline, going around the black edges with her color, filling it in at the end.

"What do you want to do when I'm done?" You asked into the thick quiet air, only to be met with udder silence in response. "Bug?" You used her loved nickname, her favorite besides just one other.

"Jinx?"

You turned your head but she hadn't heard a word, tongue between her teeth and brows furrowed in concentration while focusing on the uphill of your shoulder where the tattoo ended.

You opened your mouth to speak again but decided against it, instead smiling, turning back to your papers.

"We'll figure something out."

[cj-the-random-artist]

sorry if you've answered this before, but how do you draw/proportion bodies? The way you draw poses is so nice and fluid and I'd love to see how you do it! Your art is always such an inspiration to me, thank you for posting it

Hello! So first of all, that's a huge compliment and I really really appreciate it! I don't have the words, just. Dang. I really appreciate that so so much.

As for how I draw / proportion bodies, I don't really have a fully set process or anything, because almost all of what I do has been a result of me messing around and finding out for several years. That said, I'll try to go over some of my general process here and if clarification is needed for any part of this my askbox is always open and I'm happy to try and answer.

So I generally try to start with a rough gesture-ish shape for the torso that kind of establishes where I want the torso to sit and at what angle I want the hips / shoulders to be at. It helps for a pose to look a little more natural if there's a little bit of asymmetry and if the hips and shoulders aren't exactly at the same angle. Once I have that initial shape set up, I like to add the legs on, so I can get a feel for the weight distribution.

Also notably, I have a little marker for the head on there so I know roughly where that will be placed.

Generally after this stage I'll go in and add arms, and when I do that I'll usually make clear note of the hands, then the shoulders, then connect them at the elbow. I'll also draw on the head at this point, and for that I like to mark where the collar bone would be. There's a muscle on both sides of the neck that starts at the collar bone and ends right below the ears so that's generally a good reference point. After that I'll draw on the jawline and start marking down the head shape and where the face will go.

After this point I'll start adding on stuff like face, clothes, etc. (This ended up being a Bdubs)

A few things to try and keep in mind for anatomy is rough skeletal and muscle structure. I find it helpful if I'm struggling with a pose to think about where the ribcage, pelvis, and joints would reasonably be, and usually that will help me deal with most issues I might have. Additionally, thinking about muscle structure and body fat helps better establish the external shapes of the character, so I try to think of those too while I'm drawing.

This isn't super detailed, but I also marked here where rough skeletal points are and what the angles of the hips and shoulders are.

That said, that's not the only way I think about posing when I do start on a drawing. When I'm drawing something at a more intense angle, I prefer to start with whatever part of the body is closest to the camera and work my way back. When doing a more action- oriented pose, I tend to focus more on the line of action first so that I can do more with the gesture.

If it's not completely evident from this page, though, not every pose I draw will work out. It's fairly common for me to end up with stiff poses or ones with weird, warped proportions, especially when I'm doing more action oriented or foreshortened poses. (But of course, I don't post all the stuff I make.)

I guess to give a few closing notes, I've found that taking in information about anatomy and posing from a lot of different sources has helped me improve at it. I took a life drawing class recently that taught a very traditional manner of drawing the human figure that had a lot of emphasis on accuracy, and I took an anatomy and physiology class a couple years ago, which helped me gain an understanding of the human figure on a more scientific level, which I found very helpful. That said, I've found that YouTubers like LavenderTowne have a lot of useful information on drawing stylized anatomy and fluid poses, and her Do This, Not That videos are very informative, so I recommend looking into those a little bit for more stuff.

And a few more closing notes, that I've found work well for me personally, I highly suggest sketching loosely and lightly, and being okay with not drawing perfect poses every time. I've found, for myself, that not committing to lines right away allows me more space to find that sweet spot, so to speak, where things just work. I've found myself erasing the same lines over and over again so many times. Heck I'll draw the same post multiple times to get it to look right. It might not always look right on the first try and that's absolutely fine. Quite honestly it doesn't have to look right on the first try. For every pose I draw that turns out nice I have probably an average of 15 that have been erased or scratched out. So, like... don't get too hung up on stuff being perfect. And another small bit! Exaggerate stuff! It's fun! But it also helps capture the feeling and energy in the pose more than anatomical accuracy does, and I'd argue that especially when it comes to stylized work, it's important to push stuff to be a little bit "more" than it "realistically" would be, because I've found that can also help with fluidity. Besides, if it's been pushed too much, it's a little easier to pull it back.

I hope that long winded spiel was at least a little bit helpful, and again if any of this needs clarification, lmk! And have a fantastic day :D

[acourtofthought]

Hot take but I don’t think SJM had any plans for an Azriel book/making him a love interest until she and the publishers noticed how popular he is. I do believe she’s excited to tell his story, as she said, but “3 brothers with 3 sisters” was never the plan - SJM said she was planning on making Lucien and Nesta mates before she realized they were ill suited and decided to make Cassian her mate (good choice, imo). Then proceeded to say Elain was the one she and Lucien never saw coming. Why would she give Lucien so much family drama, hidden powers and a direct link to Koschei with Vassa if he “wasn’t important enough to have a POV”? Why make him and Elain so well matched if they weren’t endgame? Charming, well-dressed duo who hates violence is much more appealing than yet another brooding, depressed hero with sunshine girl who hates violence.

It’s why I’m not all that excited about Gwynriel book. With the way Gwyn was set up in ACOSF, it’s gonna be all “I’m not worthy” from two POVs. It’s a bit weird. I get survivor’s guilt, but she was protecting the children, not cowering in a corner while her sister was killed. It’s too dramatic to think people will hate her for it and not see her as a hero.

Here here!

I also got the vibe that SJM hadn't really put a lot of thought into Azriel until ACOFAS, not anymore than she did, say....Amren or Helion. Those characters were important, just as all her other characters are and I do think she initially thought Mor would end up with Az but not in a, "they'll definitely get their own book" way.

And definitely not the same level of thought she put into Lucien's character.

It doesn't matter how little page time Lucien has had recently when you think about why that is.

Lucien is not part of the IC, he's never going to be a permanent part of the IC. So what exactly would people have him do on page when we're getting a Feyre / Rhys / Cassian / Nesta / Mor POV in ACOWAR, ACOFAS, and ACOSF and most of that occurs in the NC?

Even though he's not around much, SJM still decided to change who his father was after deciding he and Elain would be mates, she still decided to point out that just because he had to wear Illyrian leathers it did not mean he was going to be a part of the NC (and she also made sure to mention how Elain refused to wear those same leathers), she made sure to point out that Elain needs sunshine when Lucien's father is the High Lord of Day (the sun personified which SJM included in ACOWAR, the same book she mentioned Elain needing sunshine), she made sure to mention how he's still tied to Spring in a major way when the NC really needs an alliance with Spring and the court back to it's full strength, she made sure to mention how friendly he's become with Vassa and Jurian (a big deal when you consider how she's building a major conflict between the Fae and Human Queens), she made sure to tell us how he's developing the markers of a High Lord (commanding Cassian with a single word), she made sure to remind us that he still expresses longing for Elain, that even though he was in a war he still never wants to be involved in one again which Elain liked hearing considering she smiled at him, reminded us that he's never gotten revenge on anyone who probably deserved it as well as informing us that cruelty bothers Elain, made sure we knew that Feyre is now rooting for Elucien, Rhys is rooting for Elucien, Cassian feels sorrow for Lucien, Nesta is now warming up to Lucien and Elain and Lucien are still experiencing tension (mentioning how Lucien is not "always in the city to see my mate" which is exactly like Cassian mentioning "not everything is about your sister" in reference to Nesta) which is the hallmark for her endgame couples eventually getting together.

This has all been building for a long time and I do think they should have their story told before Az. Az isn't just a mess, he's a mess that really has no business falling in love with anyone else right now.

And I do understand what you're saying in your last paragraph.

I'd much rather read about the underdog story that would be Elucien than read about two characters who are brave and worthy, which can't be denied, yet for some reason they still don't see it. Literally no one but Gwyn and Az would call them anything but brave so a Gwynriel book would end up being a book where the entire point is for them to finally realize what others have seen all along. That seems less exciting to me. It's sort of like Thor in Endgame, he was more annoying to me then because he couldn't handle that he wasn't able to defeat Thanos. But none of them were able to. So the huge guilt trip he placed on himself wasn't as enjoyable of a storyline to me as the characters who (while still feeling some guilt) were able to keep moving forward. Because it seemed a completely unnecessary guilt trip.

But an Elucien book would be two characters proving to everyone how capable they are even though the others never thought it possible and I find that sort of thing to be extremely inspirational. Rocky, Seabiscuit, Secretariat, Cool Runnings (😂), the hobbits from The Lord of the Rings, and so on.